The Depths of Moridin's Citadel

[Darth Voracitos]

Byss...​

Darth Moridin's Citadel...​

Voracitos remembered a time when the name Moridin meant something of importance, an equal of his own caliber but of a different disposition, a name of ambition and power. As his Throne floated him across the marshy worn roads leading to the only remnant of that once dreaded name, followers in tow, Voracitos recalled his memories of the early empire. It has been a long time since he referred to himself as the Pillar of Knowledge, but he felt in this moment that he most exemplified that title in approaching the decrepit stores of the former Pillar of Strength and former Sith Emperor. What sort of strength did he really possess, if his only memory is a decaying castle? He was more than that of course, rumors, tall tales, legends, and scary stories surrounded the name of Moridin, but for all of his conquests and atrocities, his strength was all for naught.

Of the pillars of the empire, so far as the Sith Lord could manage to tell, only the Pillar of Knowledge remained. Due to this, Voracitos felt a strange sort of duty, to chronical what is left behind from the withered strength and power of the other pillars, the dilapidated corpses of an Empire he once served, subverted, and ruled. At times, it seemed as if Voracitos had lived too long, perceiving what was only decades ago as some ancient civilization. It wasn't entirely his fault, his ventures into the Netherworld warped his perceptions of time irreparably. At times, it was all he could do simply to stay in the moment of the present.

"My Lord, there is something strange about the vegetation surrounding the Citadel... " The Lady Envy spoke, apprehensively, unsure of her senses.

"Your perception is admirable, that isn't any ordinary vegetation if it is vegetation at all," Voracitos spoke softly, sensing the same unfamiliar voids she had, only much earlier. "It would be best to avoid the abberations whenever possible, they are unimportant to me at best and annoying at worst." The masked Zabraki woman nodded in affirmation.

"Then you do not wish me to use the Relic against them once we approach the Keep?" The Hunter Avarice questioned his dark lord.

"It would do no good, they are voids in the force. Perhaps once we have gone deeper into the Citadel, we shall find beasts to attract with it, and for you to hunt." Voracitos smiled slightly, sensing the eagerness in his followers. Especially the lumbering Savant Wrath, who was not nearly as intrigued by the exploration of the Citadel, as he was by the prospect of fighting something dangerous. He did not voice his opinion though, he had little to say that wasn't already broadcasted in his emotions within the force.

Soon, Voracitos and his three most valuable Hungered Vassals approached the unfamiliar gates of the Keep...

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

 

[Collector]

In his years of travel, bound to know man nor organization, maintaining a guise of a far-from-simple-and-humble merchant, Zaz had seen his fair share of ruins. They weren't his favorite, his own tastes partial to luxury over desolation, yet the secrets locked away in such establishments were absolutely tantalizing. And he, the collector he so proudly proclaimed himself as, was hardly one to resist such temptation.

That was what brought the purple tent to Moridin, its vibrant shades of fabric a stark contrast to the otherwise dismal landscape. A weary traveler might see it as a beacon of mysticism, not quite hope. And while the aberrations that called this world home might strike out against the unfamiliarity, the tent stood almost untouched. As did its owner, an entity just as if not more vibrant in his appearance. The reds and blues of a heavily embroidered overcoat atop his already purple visage made for an outlandish sight, only further accented by the multitude of talismans and jewelry upon his person.

There were no weapons to be found, at least not of the traditional sense, yet he walked with the utmost confidence. One had to wonder if he'd been here before, giving the casual way of his gait, and the memories of such were lost to time, or perhaps just the being himself. Nevertheless, he was a one-man band, meandering beyond the safety of his tent, the citadel and its treasured vault the object of his curiosity. There was no effort to disguise his presence. If anything, the opposite, like he himself were a beacon, reaching out to any and all who may be attuned to such callings, beckoning for company on this quest.

[member="Darth [/FONT][FONT=georgia]Voracitos"]​

 

[Darth Voracitos]

"Hmm," Voracitos managed as his eyes picked out the fabulously colored tent, its particular shade of purple the favorite of the Sith Lord. Though he wasn't exactly a member of the fashion community, he did collect a great number of appealing looking things... and people. It was half the reason he was exploring the Citadel. Voracitos wondered briefly if the auction had included a welcoming party, and thought it was strange. Then he thought better of it, and quickly surmised the tent and its occupant were largely "coincidental" in their appearance her. Byss was not impossible to travel to, though quite difficult, and any number of treasure hunters might have made it to the ruins of Byss long before the Sith Lord arrived and won the rights to the Citadel of his former ruler. The auction in fact, may have been directly responsible in bring the purple tent to Byss, it was entirely possible.

With no malice intended yet, Voracitos and his small entourage approached the tent and it occupant curiously.

"Hello there," Voracitos rumbled, "I was not expecting a welcoming party for my arrival. Who might you be?"

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

 

[Collector]

His eyes were rubies, pupiless yet still perfectly emotive judging from the spark of curiosity that met the small entourage, eyeing each being in turn before resting on the speaker. The expression that followed bore perhaps a bit too much familiarity. Enough to make some wonder if they'd perhaps encountered this being before, at least until they recognized that the level of extravagance that made up Zaz's person would be near unforgettable. After realizing that, one might be resigned to accept he was simply a friendly person, or perhaps there was more at play they simply would not comprehend.

Arms opened wide to greet the small band, a small chorus of bells followed each little movement. "Greetings and well met to you as well, my friend." He called out, the remnants of a chuckle hanging on to his words. "I was not expecting a welcoming party myself, and yet here we are. The Fates do have their way around with things, no?" His hands retreated to the center of his person, a flick of a wrist bringing forth a deck of equally outlandish cards that shuffled between his fingers. "Who am I? Ah, well, that's a bit of a loaded question. For now, you may call me the Collector."

"But enough of me. Tell me more of yourself and this entourage you've brought along."

[member="Darth Voracitos"]​

 

[Darth Voracitos]

"Well, Collector," Voracitos said with a measure of dubiousness, "I am Darth Voracitos, the Lord of Gluttony, and former Shadow Emperor of the late Sith Empire... before my assassination, of course. My entourage here are my servants sworn to fealty, my Hungered Vassals for the power I provide to them, and they are dependent upon. They are members of my Coven of Gluttony, who scour the galaxy for interesting artifacts of the force for my own collection, of sorts." Voracitos trained his organic eye on the purple creature before him, while his robotic eye remained as unmoved as ever.

"My Hunter Avarice," Voracitos lazily listed a finger to his left from its grasp of his mobile throne to an Arkanian with visible scars, "Has done me the pleasure of acquiring this very Citadel through auction, so you may imagine my surprise to find another 'Collector' here, squatting on my property." Voracitos' tone turned terse, but he did not become visibly aggrieved. After a pause he continued to introduce his servants.

"The small horned one is the Lady Envy, a student of magic after my own heart who specializes in the conjuration of lethal and very personal manifestations of a victims nightmares... and for those few whose minds are not weak, I have the Savant Wrath to make their bodies weak under his own crushing strength, or by the end of his brutish lightsaber." The Savant Wrath grunted in affirmation, almost to indicate which one among them was the Savant Wrath, as if it wasn't patently obvious from his hulking and towering height and composure.

"So then, what exactly should I make of you Collector? Do you seek to collect from my Citadel?" Voracitos posed the question as if it were of no consequence to the one who answered it.

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

 

[Collector]

"Well then, oh Lord of Gluttony and whatever else you claim your dominion over, I would say our tastes are aligned, no?" His smile never wavered, paying no heed to any malice sent his way. He walked a couple steps forward, a lazy saunter more than anything, seemingly oblivious to whatever danger might be in the air. The bells clinging to his clothing rang once, twice, before silence, even as his feet carried on. The deck of cards flicked from one hand to the other with stunning precision, with a uniquely intricate mural of sorts printed on to each card, with the occasional card moving just slow enough for one to catch a glimpse of what the image entailed.

He nodded to each servant in term, perhaps too enthusiastic in comparison to those he was greeting. "Ah, yes, the legality of property and such does make things, eh, difficult. I assure you, the squatting, as you put it, was about as personal as it was with malicious intent. Besides, keeping track of who owns what these days is so tedious. One century, it's some overzealous lord, the next it's - well, you get my point."

A short chuckle followed, preceded by his arms opening wide once more, gesturing to himself. "You may make of me what you wish, though I would advise that in the more metaphorical over physical sense. As for this Citadel," he paused for a moment, a noncommittal shrug claiming his shoulders. "Anything and everything. Stories, artifacts, memories of a time long past, I'm not picky. After all, I've already collected a new set of acquaintances, have I not?"

[member="Darth Voracitos"]​

 

[Darth Voracitos]

"Perhaps," Voracitos mused, an eye trained upon the purple thing as it made its steps toward the citadel, "Perhaps not. It remains to be seen if we are fully acquainted. However, you have done me no ill except for existing, and have proven to be of a generally similar mind. It is possible we could be of service to each other here, in this regard..." Voracitos' voice seemed to trail off, as he and his group followed closely behind the wanderer.

The Hunter Avarice seemed to document his surroundings as they approached through more traditional means, observing with his natural eyes and sketching anomalies, such as the biological oddities that have overrun the decrepit structure. Meanwhile, the Lady Envy seemed to do much the same, though through the use of more mystic and arcane methods. The Savant Wrath did not seem to interact with the environment at all however, seeming to keep an unflinching set of eyes trained upon the Collector leading them through the entrance of Moridin's Citadel.

"I used to know the architect of this Citadel, a life time ago, before either of us had reached much galactic prominence. Do you know very much of Darth Moridin?" Voracitos said to the Collector.

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

 

[Collector]

"Perhaps we may, indeed. I'd be most interested to see what you may offer." He turned as he spoke, boots somehow navigating the uneven surfaces of Byss relatively well considering the backwards trek. "An acquaintanceship - if not partnership - would be for the best, I think. It'd be a shame for a fellow collector to perish - at least not before willing their collection to the other." Almost immediately following the last line, he let lose a hearty laugh. "But I kid, of course. What is any man without a little friendly competition, no?"

Unblinking eyes continued to cast their curious gaze upon each of his temporary companions, lingering especially on the Lady Envy and this Lord of Gluttony. The mention of magic caught had caught his attention, being a practitioner of the arcane himself. Nevertheless it'd be quite rude to focus his gaze only on one. A moment of accidental eye contact with the Savant Wrath had him meeting the brute's gaze with a smile perhaps just a bit too wide to fit his face.

"Hmm...On a personal level, perhaps not, it's so hard to keep track of these days. One of those who sought to cheat chaos, yes?" The smile lessened but a fraction, drawing fourth a moment of melancholy that just didn't quite match the rest of him. "A shame, truly. One way or another, chaos always wins."

[member="Darth Voracitos"]​

 

[Darth Voracitos]

The words of the Collector tried to wash over Voracitos, but his flesh was so repugnant it merely crossed over the oil of his blubbery skin and dripped to the abyssal landscape surrounding the Byssian Citadel. That is to safe, whether granted or not, Voracitos had absolutely zero regard for the Collectors attempt at humor in suggesting they were in any way peers of arcane collections. An appropriate name or not, Voracitos was the true collector among the pair, in his eyes.

Voracitos smiled at the apparent naivety of the Collector in his belief that Chaos had any agency over the success of the truly corrupted. Moridan had cheated Chaos, in a sense, consuming the souls of this very world and existing for hundreds of years in the galactic darkness. Though he too failed, though not for any of the reasons that the Collector thought. Voracitos, for example, in-spite of his own efforts, did not cheat Chaos. For all intents and purposes, upon his assassination he belonged to Chaos, slumbering in the Garden of Thorns while his contingencies continued his name (albeit unsatisfactorily) in the living world. In fact, it was the direct result of someone else cheating that allowed his return. Since he continued to persist, and in his collection of souls stolen from the Netherworld itself, it became clearer and clearer that Chaos was dead, and like a vulture Voracitos picked at his meal as the victor of death.

"In sense, yes, you could say that he 'cheated'. He consumed the billions of souls that lived here on Byss at some point when the 400 Year Darkness began, and used their essence to power his own for the 400 years thereafter. He, alongside myself and another, an enigmatic entity from time forgotten known only as 'Disciple', formed the Triumvirate of the Sith Empire some years after its initial founding by Darth Sidic. Wherever his body now rests is irrelevant, he contributed nothing but the sinew's by which Moridin and I stitched together the first Empire to rise from the ashes of galactic apocalypse. That time was a profitable one, and none matched his strength of leadership until... well, until apparently he bored of it, much to my chagrin. I never did discover exactly the circumstances of his death after stepping down from his position as Emperor, but all the same we all must make the pilgrimage one day." This was the point where Voracitos began to smile.

"Of course, I make that pilgrimage every month to add to my collection. Chaos always wins, yes that much is true, which is why every day I push further to embody it, heart and soul." Already that festering cancer of the darkside had been fed souls that had been tormented for thousands of years on the Field of Blades only to become the clothe clinging to a fat mans body, or a belligerent bankers currency, or simply a self-styled deity's lunch. It was only a matter of time before the squishy mortal flesh of Voracitos was rent open to allow the Chaos which overfilled him to manifest across his entire form.

The Savant Wrath stepped forward and passed them, as the group came across a decrepit colossal doorway. The power of the darkside swelled within the Devorian Brute, as the smell of sulfur wafted into the air, the choice of drug for the alien allowing truly impressive feats of strength. In a gesture that seems almost effortless, the devilish creature heaved the entire doorway upward, the sound of grinding rusted metal on metal ringing out across the landscape... echoing down the claustrophobic hallways ahead. Stale air seemed to gentle breeze past them, indicating a tomb not entirely sealed as it should be.

[member="Zazrael Lux"]