The Dark Arts 101

[Fasalin]

FRESIA, THE TEMPLE OF PAIN​

​

For the first time in his life, Assadar had been summoned to meet with a Sith Lord, and he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.

On one hand, this could be his golden opportunity. For the first time, a powerful Sith had taken a direct interest in him, and decided that he was significant enough to warrant a private, face-to-face meeting. That could mean that a world of exciting possibilities was about to open up to Assadar; here was his chance to take his place as this man's apprentice, learn the secrets of the dark side of the force, and finally become a full member of the Sith Order, worthy of respect and fear.

It was also just as likely that the Sith, whose went by the name of Darth Pikiran, was going to kill Assadar for sport.

Either way, there was no refusing such a summons. Assadar could not have known what Pikiran wanted with him, but either way he had no choice but to ascend the long, winding steps to the private chambers where the Sith was staying and meet his fate. Approaching the heavy metal doors to the Sith's chambers, he activated the intercom system and, with an equal measure of excitement and caution, addressed the Sith for the first time.

"Darth Pikiran, I have come as you requested. May I enter?"

[member=Darth Pikiran]

 

[Matreya]

Damien sat in a lush chair, eyes bound on a datacron, where he was compiling information. In it would be the entirety of his knowledge on Alchemy, metallurgy; basically it was a conduit for the past two decades worth of learning. With its completion, whoever owned such, would have the understanding of many of History's greatest Lords and Ladies, including Sidious' knowledge of creation and combination with cybernetics, the Knotter's of Entrails and they're techniques.

Many would covet such an item, seeking to use the information bound within, from which could come potentially another Emperor of the galaxy. To protect against this, Damien also included a gatekeeper similar to ones found in Holocrons. One of his allies' creations, AIM, with all of its artificial intelligence, would be put inside as well to safegaurd against any unwanted students. In the end, it was programmed with over a dozen passwords, each would need to be learned from Damien, for upon the first successful entrance to the information would be removal of said code. The student would then need another code from Damien to work with it. By the last code, the end game would come into play and the device would be erased by the program put inside.

The same end game would activate if a code couldn't be given, or upon unwarranted intrusion.

Why was Damien doing something he had never before done? Over the last few months, Damien had kept his eyes open, for in his opinion it was now time for an apprentice. He had been a teacher to over a dozen others, but never had he one to call his ally, and now he wanted one. In his search, he had located a youth that had more to him than one could see.

Hopefully, this lad would be the one take on Damien's knowledge. It was at this time a knock at the door could be heard. As the words were spoken, the speaker would sense an intense flare of power, as Damien used Dimension Shift to make his notes and the datacron shrink until it vanished into the microverse.

"Come in!" Would be the reply.

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

Just after the words left his mouth, Assadar could sense a sudden disturbance in the force coming from the other side of the door. He had no idea what the source of this disturbance was, but had no time to ponder it as the Sith's reply came through the intercom. With no small amount of trepidation, he entered the room and, upon laying eyes on the Sith, who sat facing away from him on the other side of the chamber, sank quickly to his knees and bowed his head.

"You wanted to see me, my lord?"

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien nodded, "I did indeed." He murmured as he eyed the youth. The Force whispered to Damien, things that made him quiver a bit in excitement as he contemplated the future. This youth would be quite the Lord when the time came; though Damien hardly affiliated himself with the One Sith, he knew in his heart of hearts that he was Sith, and would do anything to bring his could be apprentice to the peak of power.

"What would you say if I told you I summoned you here to claim you as my apprentice?" Damien asked with an arched brow.

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

For a moment, Assadar remained completely unresponsive, stunned into silence. Though he had considered that this was the reason he'd been summoned, in his heart he had never thought of it as a real possibility. He certainly hadn't expected such an invitation to be the first thing that came out of Pikiran's mouth.

Suddenly, the young Acolyte became acutely aware that he still hadn't spoken, and quickly raised his head to meet the cold, black eyes of the Sith Lord for the first time. How to respond to such an unexpected turn of events? He had to be sure not to seem too eager, and--

"My Lord, I would be truly honored to accept!"

Or not.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien offered a smile, which wasn't entirely warm as it conveyed a sense of dark planning, "Very well. Then from here on out, you will be known as Fasalin. You keep your own name, but hold it close at chest. Do not let others know it, unless you know them. Names are a powerful thing.

"Now, to begin, we will need to put you in the field. Firstly, I want you to learn the basics. The best way I can think to do this, is to enact a plan I have been delving into as of late: you will aid me in Alchemically altering my weapon, further than it already is." As he said this, Tantibus began to grow from a microscopic speck, to the long sword it always was. Drawing the sword from the scabbard, Damien held it up.

"As is, the blade requires enough energy to destroy that it is impractical. That feeling you are starting to receive? Is the masterwork of Force Fear imbued into the blade, this we will be changing to a higher degree, so that it releases even greater terror in the form of Force Horror and Insanity." He paused, being an acolyte, the youth likely had no idea what he was talking about, "These abilities all add up to the same thing: dread and terror in ones mind. But as is, though powerful, the ability is minor to those of a stronger ilk." At this point, to negate his apprentice suffering, he reached his Force power to encompass the other, so he would keep his sanity.

"So, we make our way to the Forge." Damien said, then left the room. Down the hall, he entered into a large room that let loose such a feeling of Darkside energies, that it could cause those not used to it to get sick - this too his apprentice was protected from as they neared the rear of the room.

Stopping at a basin, Damien drew a dagger from inside his cloak. Placing the blade against his wrist, he looked to the youth, and smiled as he did not flinch even a micrometer while drawing the blade across his flesh. Instantly an immense amount of blood began to pour forth from the wound. Watching a moment as it gathered an ample amount he cast his gaze back to his apprentice.

"Ever heard of Darkside Healing?"

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Matreya]

Double post. Ignore.

 

[Fasalin]

The young acolyte was having a hard time maintaining his normally impeccable composure. Less than a minute after entering the room, he had become an apprentice to a powerful Sith and now he even had a new name. The whole affair was almost overwhelming, but Assadar, or Fasalin, as he would now be known, managed to keep his wits about him.

Still, it was impossible not to catch his breath when a sword appeared out of thin air before his very eyes, though his sense of amazement was soon replaced by an inexplicable but powerful feeling of dread. Darkness seeped into his mind, evoking nameless horrors and forgotten nightmares. The acolyte tried to tear his gaze away from the blade that he knew to be the source of his suffering, but found himself transfixed, compelled to keep his eyes firmly locked on the weapon though every fiber of his being screamed at him to look away, to turn and run as fast and as far as he could.

Suddenly, the horror subsided as quickly as it had arisen, and the acolyte could feel the presence of the other Sith shielding his mind. Grateful for the unexpected reprieve, he rose to his feet and quickly followed his new master as he made his way to the forge.

The new apprentice watched, outwardly impassive, as his master sliced his own wrist as if it were a normal, everyday affair. Nevertheless, the image of the ancient Sith standing there, completely calm and collected as the blood poured from his self-inflicted wound, was one he would never forget.

"I am aware of the technique, master, but I have never personally witnessed its use." he said in response to Pikiran's casual inquiry.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien nodded, "I imagined as such. In my days, it was a technique known only by a few. Now though, it is common knowledg." He said, then stared down at the bloody basin, which had reached medium fill. Then, he turned his gaze once more to the youth, "Give me your arm." He said calmly. To emphasize the need for not fearing the potential cut, he waved a hand over his wounded wrist, and in seconds the cut had knitted itself back together. Each molecule was forced to split and create a new, until the seam was closed, as if it had never been.

"This is where you show your trust." He said to his apprentice, then smiled again, "Besides, I want your blood to make it so my weapon may be used by you if ever the need arises. And that the effects next imbued will never bother you."

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

Naturally, Fasalin's first reaction was apprehension. Would the Sith heal him as quickly and easily as he had healed himself, or would he simply allow his new 'apprentice' to give all his blood for the enhancement of his weapon? The sudden offer of apprenticeship had almost seemed too good to be true...

This was his test, and the young acolyte knew it. Either he could prove his loyalty and trust for Pikiran, surrender to his master's will and place his life into his hands, or he could turn away and lose it all. The new master, the new name, the new life.

In the end, there was only one choice for him. It was human nature to want to advance one's own standing and become more than what you are, but for a man in his position it was a necessity to do so. Whether by his own choice or not--he still wasn't sure--he had long ago started on the path to becoming Sith. To stay where he was meant stagnation and weakness; eventually, it meant death. No risk was too great.

After a moment's hesitation, he extended his arm over the basin, rolling up the sleeve of his robe to expose his bare skin to the Sith's dagger.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien smiled, a warmth that hadn't shown yet, though still tainted by some malignant evil plan, "Good. Worry not." Damien said, then gripped the arm held before him. First things first, he reached into the lads mind and dulled all pain sensors before placing the blade against flesh. The cut that came after was deep, but nowhere near as long.

He then held it out over the basin to let it fill a bit more. However, unlike with his own, he hardly added a pint. It was just enough that his essence would be added to the blade, but not be dominant. It would keep the blade working for his favor, though he wouldn't be able to control the abilities.

When it reached optimum levels, he withdrew the arm and healed the wound just as quickly. Next he returned feeling to the mans body, though it would feel no differently. Next he turned and began to hold his hand over the crimson liquid, "We must imbue our energies to the blood, so that the Blood Magic can take effect."

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

The young acolyte's surprise at the absence of pain in his arm was considerable; he felt the blade as it was drawn across his flesh, but the sensation seemed distant and far-off, as if he was watching it happen to somebody else. Had the Sith somehow kept him from feeling the pain, just as he had spared him the evil affects of the sword? If so, his new master was unusually considerate, but the cold smile on his face which never once reached his eyes made it plain that he was not a kind man by any measure. Still, the acolyte was grateful for the gesture, and relieved when Pikiran quickly healed the wound.

He watched in silence as Pikiran held his hand out over the blood-filled basin, trying to heed the disturbances in the force created by the dark ritual. The acolyte expected that he would be expected to emulate whatever it was that his master was doing to the blood, but with no real idea of how he was supposed to 'imbue' it with his energy, he simply watched and waited for further instructions. Painlessness, wound-healing, energy-imbuing...clearly, he had much to learn.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien chuckled softly, the first thing to not seem borne of an underlying darkness, "To imbue something so basic, just dig deep inside yourself, feel that small place inside of you that whispers to you, or aids in danger, whatever the symptom, and chanel it. Bring it forth with the ideal that you are going to make the blood stronger. It sounds difficult but once you get the hang of it, it really is not."

With that, Damien then tapped into the energy of the Spirits bound to him - something he wasn't aware if his apprentice was aware, as some had natural affinity to seeing spirits while others never did. When the power began to build, it was noticeable. The blood began to bubble and boil, and the room seemed even darker, despite many light fixtures.

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

The acolyte nodded--the process sounded simple enough, in theory. Searching his mind, he quickly found his way to the part of him that anchored him to the power of the force and, extending his hand, directed that power outward, channeling it towards the basin. Here, though, he paused. How exactly did one make blood stronger? What idea could he focus on to achieve this?

At this point, he sensed another disturbance in the force; that was nothing unusual, but this one felt particularly exotic and...dangerous. After a few moments, he became aware that something appeared to be sucking the light out of the room, reducing the plentiful illumination provided by the many brightly burning torches to a dull glow. What was happening? The source of the disturbance appeared at first to be Darth Pikiran, but then, there seemed to be others as well...As he arrived at this conclusion, several faint silhouettes began to appear around Pikiran, only barely noticeable out of the corner of his eye when the light of the flickering torches was at its lowest ebb. They faded in and out of existence, their presence so faint that he might not have noticed them if he couldn't feel them through the force.

In his surprise, the Acolyte quickly lost his focus on the blood, and his hand fell limply to his side. He couldn't help but stare at the apparitions before him, completely unaware of what he was seeing. He turned to face Pikiran and spoke, keeping his voice as level as he could manage despite the deeply unsettling nature of the situation.

"Master...what are those?"

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien paused, and glanced behind him at the 14 spirits gathered there, "Those are the Spirits of dead victims, I bound them to me so I may siphon energy from them like a battery. In essence, a singular apprentice, if able to bind enough Spirits, could overpower the average Master. But during such would likely tear themselves apart." He murmured, then noticing he to had dropped his arm to his side.

"Anyway, concentrate. Your energy and blood will be necessary for the binding process to take hold, and allow you to wield Tantibus without Fear."

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

Fasalin nodded slowly, though his sense of unease had only grown now he knew what the apparitions were--being in the presence of the dead took some getting used to, especially if the spirits in question were slain enemies who were almost certainly unhappy with having what little remained of them siphoned away by their killer. Still, it wouldn't do to dwell on the matter, so attempting to ignore the spirits as best he could he reached out through the force once more and set his mind to the task at hand.

Reaching out through the force, he focused on the idea of taking the power within him and drawing it into the basin. He'd never attempted to use the force in such an abstract way before; he found that the process was entirely different to something like telekinesis, where the outcome was far more tangible and therefore easy to focus on. Still, after a minute or so he could feel the force responding to his vague but determined command, infusing the blood with his energy. He maintained this connection, trying to get a feel for the technique, and after a while he could feel it growing stronger, though as of yet he had no idea if what he was doing was working or not.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien watched for a long moment, then the crimson liquid which now held the power of two Sitb, changed to a dark violet color, close to black. This was a sign, and he reached out to touch his apprentice on the arm to signal he could stop.

"Now, to explain what you did. Blood magic, like those of Sith or Dathomiri, is a way of manipulating the Force to cause a yearned for effect. The best way to get the Force to recognize what you wish for, is the enhancements of your own - or whoever the target is - blood. To enfuse it, as is with just your power, as this creates a bond between you and the magic. Then from there you may imbue it with whatever energies you feel fit to.

"Example? We have already imbued it with our energies to create the bond, now we simply need to add our effects we wish to have - if that was the plan. Instead of using the Blood Magic to do the entirety, we will project the end results into the metals itself." Damien finished then asked, "Do you understand? If not, say so."

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

The apprentice nodded slowly, though he was still trying to absorb the information. "So, am I to understand that by imbuing the blood with our energies, we can form a connection between ourselves and the metal? If so, does the blood need to bought into physical contact with the sword itself?"

[member="Darth Pikiran"]

 

[Matreya]

"Yes, it is one of the basic foundations of blood magic, the bond that is. For the second question, yes but to a further extent. It must soak up the blood, so that it may create a bond between the blood and the metal properly. Afterward comes the steps of conjuring the yearned effects, but for now we will focus on simply letting the blood soak." Damien said as be then gripped the massive sword and set it in the blood. Almost as if alive, the dark liquid splashed up and over it, as if to take it in its entirety.

[member="Assadar Ilrast"]

 

[Fasalin]

The young acolyte watched, fascinated, as the blood rose up to envelop the blade, writing and bubbling as if it were a living thing. Though he had long been aware of the existence of blood magic, the reality of its practice was entirely new to him, and he relished the opportunity to watch a master at work.

[member="Darth Pikiran"]