Your Right to Breath in My World

[Darth Prazutis]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umoFgKVqGtM[/media]​

​Khar Shian
​The Citadel of Naga Sadow, Domain of [member="Darth Vitium"]...

​"In the eyes of the Sith Order I call the Lords to Khar Shian to bear witness. I challenge you, Darth Vitium. I challenge you to a fight to the death, for everything you have and hold dear. But most of all, for the right to exist in my world."

​Present Day...

​Days passed after the foreboding challenge spread across the channels of all Lords of the Sith who would accept the holographic message from none other then Darth Prazutis, the Goliath of Panatha. In the eyes of the Sith Order he challenged Darth Vitium, and in days time regardless of who showed up or not the Destroyer was coming to Khar Shian. There was no deception or false truths in his challenge, no room for misinterpretation. There was only one word that rang through the air:

​Death.

​Two would fight on grounds sacred to Sith beliefs and only one would stand victorious, only one would stand the Conqueror. But a time prior Darth Vitium arrived on Panatha, daring to invoke the God-Kings ire by a duel, which she fought to a standstill with no clear victor. In the months since the Destroyer watched from the shadows as Silara Kuhn ran the Sith name through the mud associating with the likes of [member="Aria Vale"]. Silara constantly held herself as the Queen of the Pack, yet she was nothing more then the lowly dregs she detested.

​Today that would end.

​In the outskirts of the great ruined citadel of Naga Sadow bathed in the moons eternal darkness they would fight. A raised set of stable, flat cliffs would act as the viewing platform of the various Sith Lords who would assemble to watch the great fight of the death. They'd understand the scale of what was to come, none who assembled would interfere.

​High in space orbiting the moon a set of ships descended into the atmosphere, the massive hulls of dark battleships bathed in the light of the far moon. Their darkened hulls bore the symbol of the great cerulean phoenix. This only meant one thing:

​The Zambranos have come.

​[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Ferox"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | [member="Velok the Younger"] | [member="Darth Imperia"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Anaya Fen"] |

 

[Ellie Mors]

Voices


At long last it had come - the challenge for supremacy by someone captured beneath the shadow of her peers. She'd never been the greatest of the Sith during her time with the One Sith, never shoved herself into the spotlight even following her resurrection, but she'd been a brutal and efficient killer - perhaps even better at getting those who'd been considered her betters to fall in line when push came to shove. Every person she met had been given a different face - kind, loving, but paranoid to her former husband, cruel and calculating to the Jedi, and stoic yet determined to those she considered fellow Sith. Emotions were her tools, things to manipulate, to pretend to possess, in order to make others do what she wanted - to make herself feel the rush of adrenaline that would satisfy her thirst for the feelings others described as hatred, anger, and obsessed desire. Beneath this charade of personality lay the true Silara, a woman who was truly a product of her upbringing. Everyone was disposable, every action an option, and above all - she knew she could replace even herself when the time came.

The Zambrano name, as mystifying and terrible as it was for the majority of the galaxy, bore no meaning to the Sith Lord - the woman that feared more the passage of time without her plans coming to fruition than she feared death itself. [member="Darth Prazutis"] likely assumed she'd be at least a little put off by his challenge, that she might have felt a tinge of fear in her icy heart when he'd made his decision to face her on Khar Shian known to the entire Order - perhaps even thought she'd feared his nephew, his superior, [member="Darth Carnifex"], whom the galaxy had known as a butcher of worlds, and the Jedi had known as a terrifying duelist. Kaine Zambrano, however, had been fought as a means to an end - his enrollment with her unsteady alliance had been an attempt to bring together powerful and influential Sith and force them to cooperate as separate but equal individuals, not to satisfy some primal lust for a challenge or to prove that she was superior when she disarmed him rather than tore him limb from limb. It should have come to no surprise that she was waiting for the Sith at the foot of her keep, dressed in the same manner of clothing she'd faced Carnifex on Panatha and wielding only her two lightsabers.

She would silence this runt, or she would die a failure and force him to succeed her legacy and build upon it with his own - a Sith Order unified under one vision would come of this duel regardless, whether the insolent cur wanted it or not.

'Such a grand display of excess, a fleet to deliver one man to his fate as successor or as failure.' She thought, her expression unchanged as the Sith lowered his ship to the frozen, dark, tundra of Khar Shian for their duel.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

y u no include me in the tags bby ;(​

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​

Khar Shian​

​

The Demon's Fist was presently not in the best of moods. He had been en route to the Time Foundry in the Chiloon Rift when had had received the call to assemble on the godforsaken moon to watch two of his peers settle their minute differences by mortal combat. It really wasn't that much of an occurrence amongst the ranks of the Sith. The Sith had a nasty tenancy to pick fights wherever they went, usually with their own kin. It's not that Ajihad had a problem with it or anything. He was raised a Sith, he was used to their self-destructive culture. He was just upset that they had decided to duke it out on the coldest and most boring rock in the galaxy. Why not Korriban? That's where all the cool Sith did it. Instead, he had to watch the fight from a frozen outcropping a hundred feet or so in the air as icy wind threatened to snag him off the ledge if he wasn't careful. He wouldn't have gone to observe, except someone had to watch it to make sure the true results were passed on to the rest of the Order.​

​

So there he was, in his thankfully temperature-regulated armor waiting for the fight to begin.​

​

[member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darth Vitium"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex had not been idle since his duel with [member="Darth Vitium"] on Panatha, the Dark Lord moving from place to place as he shifted his pieces on the intergalactic chessboard into their proper places for the war that was to come. However; when word had reached him of [member="Darth Prazutis"]' challenge to Vitium on Khar Shian he put all of his schemes on hold and chartered a course for the Stygian Caldera as swiftly as he could via his personal warship, the Ruination. By the time he had reached Khar Shian, Prazutis' armada had already begun to encircle the world in a show of martial force. It was a tad foppish for Carnifex's tastes, all that mattered was the confrontation between Prazutis and Vitium on the planet below.

The Dark Lord commanded that his ship be anchored in orbit above the planet, but visibly separate from the rest of Prazutis' fleet as to not be immediately clumped in with this maneuver by the Arch-Prince. He was neither supportive nor counterproductive to either side, he was merely present as an observer.

Probes would be launched to document all conceivable angles of the spectacle while he watched with eager anticipation at what was to come.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Us2ylGAwBnk[/media]​

​

​​The Destroyer has come.

Through the night cloaked sky came a lone shuttle descending towards the ancient battle scarred ruins [member="Darth Vitium"] called home. Thousands of years in the past the ancient Sith Lord Naga Sadow once held dominion here, and even long after his death one could still see the scars of the past evident on the dark stone. A great battle had been waged here in a time long forgotten. How fitting that it would be the site of yet another legendary battle in the history of the Sith Order.

​It was not only the end, but a beginning.

​Darth Prazutis was aware of the politics within the loosely tethered Sith Order, and its various united groups. While he stood in one of his own alongside [member="Matsu Xiangu"] and his new growing beliefs of the dark side, and the serenity of utter silence so did he stand with [member="Darth Carnifex"], his nephew and mentor in another. But the Destroyer constantly weaved plots and moved pieces on the great galactic chessboard he so skillfully played, as did any efficient Dark Lord. Today was the great beginning of a new dawn, a new era in which he would forge an ironclad alliance among members of the Sith, today he would work to unite its loose tendrils into the iron fist that brought the galaxy to heel in the past, but just like any long road it had its obstacles.

​Darth Vitium.

​As the dark transport landed in the shadow of the great ruins its ramp extended to the earth, no sooner did the towering goliath stride down into view. Today he chose to wear a simple set of black robes that hung off his powerfully muscular frame. A large blade radiating with dark power was strapped firmly to his back, while his lightsaber was clipped inside his robes. While he carried two weapons there was only one that would be his instrument of death: Daesumnor, the Blade of Hunger. One of two legendary weapons crafted by one of the greatest alchemists in the modern era. It would be the instrument to rob Vitium of life. In any other duel to Sith Lords with such power death wasn't an obstacle, merely they'd bide their time to return. Not this time. When his blade pierced through her chest the only feeling she'd feel is her black soul being forcefully ripped from her chest, sucked within the dark vault with the other victims.

To all present the piercing glare from a pair of luminous sulfuric yellow eyes towards the Lady of Khar Shian was only an inkling of the storm within. The Sith Lords anger was like that of an furnace fit to explode, a boiler ready to rupture in a raging storm of fury. But once his feet hit the earth a devious grin formed on his face. "Darth Vitium. Before you die, I have decided to bring you a gift."​ The Destroyer bellowed across the open terrain. Shortly after a pair of black armored crownguard descended the ramp each carrying an arm of a person.

​Lisette Kuhn

​The woman had previously been arrested several months prior for acts of terrorism within the Pacanth Reach. However instead of letting her run through the system, an arrangement had been made with the girls mother. Initially she would have come to pick up her daughter, but times changed. Now Lisette remained almost motionless between the two guards who placed her down on her knees next to the Dark Lord. Where once a spirit of fire and stubborn determination held, nothing remained. In the detention centers she had been descended upon by special agents of the crown, like a pack of wolves they tore her to pieces until her rebellious attitude had drained away. Where once she might've thrashed about now she sat her head hung low. Prazutis knelt beside Lisette he stared at Vitium while he caressed the youths face, before pulling violently on the tangled and torn black mane of hair, forcing her to look up to Vitium.

​"Your daughter returned to you as promised." ​Prazutis said taking a few steps away from the surprised Lisette. Emotion swelled on the once empty faced youth to see her mother, was it hope for her mother to cut down the man who victimized her gleaming in the broken youths eyes? Perhaps terror at seeing a dark page of her past once closed, now reopened had yet to be seen. But what was seen was the struggle on her face. Lisette tried to speak and let words fall from her broken mouth, yet only partial words rang into the air while the sound of Prazutis drawing that dark runeblade with a metalling ring carried across the open plain.

​M-
Mo-
​"Mom."

​​A dark, demonic snarl fell from his lips as Darth Prazutis swung the blade down like the axefall of an executioner. The blade sliced through like a hot knife through butter with the wet snap of sheared bone rang into the air. A fountain of blood surged as the corpse crumbled down to the earth. The Dark Lord swept forth grabbing the long mane of hair, he'd hold it up to Vitium now pacing back and forth like a mad dog while Lisettes soul entered his blade..

​"COME SILARA! COME FACE DESTRUCTION!" ​Prazutis said, discarding the head.

@Darth Ferox | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | [member="Velok the Younger"] | [member="Darth Imperia"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Anaya Fen"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"]

 

[Korog Zordaal]

Oh what a brilliant time to draw breath, and though that breath did inhale as frigid shiver, the cold of this Moon was far removed from mind. Drama, excitement, it carried on the brisk exhale of gasp and the very current of air itself! A voltaic charge that both caressed and nourished the tall Alien, as he slid along noiselessly.

Whether the death of one of the Orders titan figures was on this bill or not, a cursory jaunt through the Citadel of Naga Sadow was not an opportunity easily put to rest and, in fact, a more satisfactory prospect for his visit in of itself.

But this Contest, would in fact, offer minor excurse to the Muun's lengthy observations of dusty tomes, and withering scrolls. Perhaps, moreover, he'd play bystander long enough just to censure every point of their fighting styles--when presented in a scenario that would, undoubtedly, administer death---as a means of better undermining them should he ever feel so inclined to do so.

A large Ship suddenly took to ground, great landing struts grasping to rock and snow like the claw of some great raptor, snow and wind--even colder than the gusts that swayed the white flake dust from before-----sent Korog's heavy cloak of thick, black, animal fur aflutter, seemingly the fabric itself became terrified of the spectacle that was now but mere moments from beginning.

This would be good.




Or, at the very least, mediocre!

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Well above the planet, the Shibito coasted in to orbit. Falling in next to the Ruination in its strategic position far enough from Prazutis’ fleet to stay out of the message being made, Matsu settled in as her probes joined those other Sith Lords’ watching below. Any Lord worth their title had their hands in many ventures, and Matsu shared one of her most expansive and important with Prazutis. But she held no opinion in this fight, having never truly met Vitium herself to form an opinion.

And yet, she would be fool to miss whatever was about to unfold.

Her droids reached the surface just as Lisette Kuhn’s head tumbled to the earth. Matsu leaned forward in her chair, metallic hands steepled before an eager expression. Amber eyes followed the lifting of the most cruel challenge, a tongue swollen lolling from open mouth.

[member="Darth Vitium"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Korog Zordaal"]​

 

[NightSister]

Perhaps it was poor planning on her part, but Aria hadn't expected to walk into a beheading when she'd ambled back over to Naga Sadow's fortress.
Of course, she knew all too little about what Darth Vitium got up to when she wasn't guiding Jedi away from the Light. For all she knew, the Sith Lord could host ritual animal sacrifices whilst Aria was out and about on Khar Shian - though she'd really be happier assuming that Silara wasn't the type. Next to the animal sacrifices, strolling out to the keep to see a head hit the ground sprayed with blood seemed almost more logical.

Aria wouldn't have minded some context, but as far as she could tell, the unfamiliar onlookers would all be Sith. Courtesy of Silara herself, the Knight was moving closer towards the Dark Side, but next to the surrounding Sith - Sith Lords? Most would be, anyway - she was horribly conspicuous. Might be best to avoid making conversation.

However, when the apparent executioner - equally unidentifiable to her, of course - called out for Silara, Aria drew the dots quickly. Oh, Force. She didn't like this.

[member="Darth Vitium"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Khar Shian

"I wonder if someone will die tonight. Rather than just exchanging words and blows and come to some tacit agreement that won't change the state of Sith affairs." Kentarch said to [member="Lord Ajihad"] as came up to stand near him to watch the duel. The Black Mercury had delivered him to the surface without notice. The Sith Lord preferred to see this in person rather watch from probes.

A master of Tapas, Kentarch only needed his black robes and the hood which forever concealed his face. "If they are Sith and not One Sith, the ancient rite and ritual of the Kaggath should be employed."

 

[Ellie Mors]

The Game

Silara's eyes swept over the icy landscape, catching the sight of onlookers, probes, and interlopers alike. This duel, which would end only when one of the two Sith fell lifeless to the ground, had been something she expected to execute with dignity, with mercy, and make [member="Darth Prazutis"]'s defeat as painless and as memorable as she thought he deserved. In all her years as a Sith, she'd never stooped to the cruelty of an animal, even in her attempts to push her eldest daughter to the dark side of the force - she'd never mutilated a man for antagonizing her, she'd never rebelled against leadership for stripping her of her titles, and she'd never killed someone solely out of rage or hatred. For the last forty years she'd remained a calm rock in a storm of emotions that flowed around her, always threatening to let loose but never reaching that point.

"Mom."

She couldn't - wouldn't - lie, she'd favored her twins over the elder Lisette, a child born out of wedlock and one that had always worked against her at every turn. She'd wanted the woman returned to her so she could deal with the former Jedi Knight herself, to beat her into submission and make her understand what her purpose was. But this mindless, arrogant, personification of filth robbed her of that opportunity, broke one of her pieces on the board without so much as a thought of what purpose she could have served if she had lived - executing her daughter to get to the Sith. Of course she wouldn't mourn the little brat's death, but she did not go unaffected by her passing.

She could hear it in her ears, the pounding, and she could feel the numbing in her chest where her heart was - the sharp, icy, pricking at her lungs as she inhaled sharply when her daughter's head was separated from her shoulders. She'd been adorned with an expressionless face only moments before, but now it was set with a determined fury, the only barrier between the explosion of rage threatening to burst from her and the Sith Lord that so pompously challenged her. His words, the reiteration of his challenge, never reached her ears as she discarded the lightsaber she had been holding in her left hand, activating the saber in her right simultaneously to the steps she quickly began to take towards the Epicanthix that quickly turned into a sprint.

Eyes shut, breathing shallow through her nose, Silara abandoned all restraint and rushed towards her enemy with force-fueled speed, channeling every ounce of adrenaline that was running through her veins into the momentum she'd use to engage him in single combat.

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Vitium"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Korog Zordaal"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Darth Kentarch"] |​

​

Parked on a ridge below Naga Sadow's keep, Darth Vupua left the Initium and begun her ascent up to where Darths Vitium and Prazutis were set to fight to the death. As she climbed up, Vupua felt the presence of Darth Carnifex somewhere above her. Pausing, the Sith Lord took a moment to consider her options. She had not planned to meet Carnifex until she was ready to challenge him herself. Carrying the many great scars that he had wrought upon her during the three months of incarceration inside the Black Pyramid on Coruscant, Vupua had not forgotten what he had done to her during her seminal life as a Jedi Knight.

Upper lip curling in annoyance, Vupua continued her ascent without letting her thoughts betray her. In time, she would deal with the man in time. If she was honest with herself, Vupua knew that without Carnifex she would never have embraced the dark side of the Force. She would still be a Jedi Knight, possibly serving either the Galactic Alliance or Silver Sanctum, trying to ward off the thoughts of betrayal and the emotions she had felt swelling inside her since the One Sith Wars. But did that mean she would was thankful for what he had done to her? The answer was no. Her hatred for Carnifex eclipsed anything else, and through his death, she would grow more stronger, more powerful.

Such was the ways of the dark side.

Leaping up onto the ledge, Vupua put out a hand to flip over and land on her feet. She stood up to her full height and begun to walk forward, just as Darth Vitium charged at her opponent. Coming to a stop at the edge of the duel, Vupua folded her arms into her sleeves and wormed her fingers around the pommel of the Saberstaff that was sheathed there. Concealing it with the fabric of her robe and the dark side, she would use it if Carnifex or any of these other, mysterious Sith Lords came to kill her.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​The Destroyer paced back and forth as he watched [member="Darth Vitium"] toss a lightsaber aside with reckless abandon, and charge down the path towards him blade in hand. Silara Kuhn was a sorceress through and through, a cold and emotionless killer. He expected she was always in control of herself and it was this efficient and machinelike demeanor that helped her attain dominance.

​But not today.

​Instead of slinging spells from atop the cliffs the rage poured off the woman in palpable waves, and so the sorceress came charging down towards him. A mad grin formed on the face of Darth Prazutis then like the rancor that had just eaten the nexu. While she was a skillful master in saber combat her aggressive ability was eclipsed by his own. The bedrock of Prazutis's unique hybrid style was forged on a bedrock of his mastery of djem-so. In their fight he had the height and leverage advantage, he had the weight advantage, and the advantage of being significantly stronger then the sorceress. Just as he had expected her judgement, her mind was clouded. For all the despicable things the woman had done, for everything that was spoken about her in hushed whispers, one fact was true.

​A mother loves her daughters.

​Whether that was true in its entirety wasn't certain, but he absolutely knew it had an effect on her demeanor. To see your own flesh and blood cleaved down. Perhaps Lisette wasn't as useless as he thought. Prazutis let out a demonic howl thrummed with the power of the force, before taking off towards her. The force fueled his lumbering charge and together the pair collided, like a wave crashing into the falling avalanche. Through his training under [member="Darth Carnifex"] there was only one doctrine he would adhere to here: Attack, attack, attack. The volatile firestorm of anger exploded within, its fury flooded his muscles with energy that empowered each devastating blow he brought down on the rage driven Vitium.

​"As useless in death as she was in life. Don't worry Silara, your precious twins will be joining you and your daughter in death."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Vitium"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Korog Zordaal"] |​

Surface of Khar Shian

A severed head gripped disdainfully by long tresses of hair, brandished in mocking disdain, a provocation few would dare to ignore... this was what would start a war. Conflict was the Sith way, true, but that was ever a function of attrition: the means by which the Sith might chip away at their enemies; the means by which they might strengthen themselves; the means by which they proved themselves capable of rule, since few could challenge them and hope to survive their foolishness. That was business, however: the manner in which a Sith attended to their duty.

This...this was wasteful, a provocation designed to elevate one at the expense of another, to the detriment of all.

The challenge itself had proven amusing: a fight to the death, to prove the right to exist in my world. If Silara lost, she would have failed to prove that she had such a right, but if Prazutis lost, it would no longer be his world for Silara to exist in. A good line, but you didn't really think it through, did you? Small surprise there: the Zambrano Clan were ever inclined towards rash acts, ugly atrocity that served to underline the brutality they might inflict upon those that dared to challenge their sovereignty. Silara had but recently fought the elder of the family, to no true result. Perhaps Braxus believes that it is time to show himself stronger than Kaine by killing one that his elder could not.

Of course, there were more than just the two of them present - a battle of such consequence naturally required an audience, others to watch and verify both the result and the nature by which the duel was conducted. True, few Sith cared about honour or the protocols of war, but an open challenge freely accepted and fought would carry greater legitimacy to the winner. Tirdarius had come simply by request, one Sith Lord among many that had come to pay homage to their brethren by observing the ritual.

Though if Prazutis seeks to crawl out from beneath the shadow of Carnifex, he has a funny way of showing it. The murder he had conducted on Silara's doorstep proved that: the younger had all the brutality of the elder, though employing it in such a fashion was clearly designed to provoke rage, push his opponent to the limits of her emotional state such that he might cut her down more easily. Clever, ruthlessly pragmatic, but nonetheless with all the vicious savagery that the elder Zambrano was known for.

To draw out rage and experience the sharpness of its edge...certainly Prazutis intended to test Silara's Sith credentials, but there was little doubt that the woman would happily dissect and burn the other for his sacrilege. Killing family has ever proven an atrocity. Observing from nearby, close enough to hear them, but not so close as to become embroiled in the battle, it was clear enough to Tirdarius that someone had woken a sleeping Rancor, and would suffer greatly if they were not strong enough to survive the onslaught that followed.

The first death scream that echoed throughout the Force would undoubtedly be followed by another in due course. It simply remained to be determined to whom it would belong.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Without turning his head, he was able to sense the droids descending upon the field of battle like a flock of paparazzi. He only felt the presence of his allies, meaning that the probes were likely sent by some Lord that thought he/she was too important to watch in person. Ajihad preferred to be groundside, as it gave him an opportunity to react if anything unexpected came up.​

​

Plus, frostbite was half the fun.​

​

A familiar force presence would approach from his rear. A colleague, someone who he had worked with in many occasions in the employ of the Sith Assassins. Like him, one of the original members of the group.​

​

"I agree, a Kaggath would indeed show their status as true Sith. Death means little, especially in presence of a Zambrano." He made a little side reference to Braxus's cousin's tendency to not stay dead for long. "A Kaggath shows devotion to one's fight, the willingness to lose one's legacy and worldly possessions to accomplish their desires." The assassin's deep voice didn't carry far, as he often adopted a quieter tone to maintain the mystique typically associated with his reputation. It was fun to keep people wondering.​

​

Just then, the large form of Arch-Prince twisted as he brought down a blade to decapitate a young girl. Ajihad frowned. A seemingly pointless gesture. Still, his cybernetic eye zoomed down to the battlefield, rendering everything in perfect definition. It would scan the girl's face, pulling up a brief report drawn from archives and other such sources all across the galaxy. After a quick moment of reading the assassin would raise his eyebrows. Vitium's daughter, so it seemed.​

​

He turned back to Kentarch, again losing interest in what was going on below. "So, Darth Kenarch. How have you been?"​

​

It was then he would notice the form of [member="Avedia Lacroix"] standing on a frozen pillar above them. He hadn't ever seen her before. Was she a Lord? He at least knew of the majority of his kin, and it was strange he couldn't recall her. Ajihad, being a master of Vaapad, was typically quite good at reading the emotion of others. She seemed angry, bitter even. The way she clutched her weapon indicated she was expecting to be attacked at any moment. She seemed unstable, perhaps a bit vulnerable.​

​

He would turn back towards the scene of the fight. Had anyone died yet?​

​

[member="Darth Prazutis"] l [member="Darth Vitium"] l [member="Darth Carnifex"] l [member="Matsu Xiangu"] l [member="Korog Zordaal"] l [member="Aria Vale"] l [member="Darth Kentarch"] l [member="Tirdarius"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Khar Shian \\ Ruins, Citadel of Naga Sadow​

​

A frigid wind disturbed the dark robes of the apprentice where she stood. Lyra Naerys, apprentice to Tirdarius, a Sith Master. Despite the cold, she remained still, not allowing herself the luxury of a shiver. It felt strange to her, using the Force to keep herself shielded from the chill of this world. A mere handful of weeks ago she'd had but a rudimentary understanding of the Force, and even now she felt as if a child by Sith standards. All things considered however, she was a quick learner.

She had come, along with her master to witness a challenge issued amongst their kind. From what she'd gathered, two of the more powerful of their number had consented to a challenge - to the death. The majority of the politics involved escaped her but from what she had been able to glean, it was an opportunity to watch, and learn. Her shadow fell only meters from that of her Master, but the two kept silence between them. Lyra had learned to keep her eyes open, and her mouth shut. Curiously she watched as the scene unfolded, a girl being brought forth by the large man known as Darth Prazutis. Moments later, Lyra watched in curious horror as the girl's head was separated from her body but she kept her eyes locked on the scene below, to do else was weakness.

As the scene continued to unfold and devolve into a fight that only one would emerge from, she tried to recognize the techniques and movements of the two involved. The lighter of the two, a woman whom she knew only as Darth Vitium, had made a move, charging. Meeting her movement, Lyra watched as the bear of a man took his own thundering charge, a collision imminent. With a renewed interest, she watched, eyes focused on the duel unfolding below.

[member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Darth Vitium"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | ​

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Darth Kentarch"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Korog Zordaal"]​

 

[Korog Zordaal]

Remittance so soon. With battle just barely begun, analysis had already returned copious particulars with the embroiled Lords. A woman, daughter by claim of [member="Darth Prazutis"]---Korog found no reason to disbelieve this, [member="Darth Vitium"] seemed of a wild, bitter, furor at her passing----lay decollated already.

Perhaps soon, another, would rest beside this lonely husk of lifeless flesh and limbs.

It was worth express notation, there had definitely been an opportunity lost here. Firstly, there were far, far, more abhorrent ways of bargaining your way in to an opponent's mind. Especially when able to produce the collateral of a loved one. Terrifying, the spectacle may have been. But cruelty was an art form of a much more Orphic nature.

As a tool, it needed to be used wisely.

Too far one way, you develop genuine distaste from your intended targets of subjugation. The point entirely, one may claim, but they'd be wrong. Antipathy bred Rebellion, and Rebellion was a fire of the sort you did not want to wage all of your efforts attempting to quell.

Too lenient, then they thought you weak! When your appetite for malicious evil came in to question, you had already lost in the world of the Sith.

It was a fine line to walk, not meant for all.

But, Korog would have to concede this trail of thought, Vitium, perhaps laughably, played right in to the Dark Titan's gambit. Even to the untrained eye of an Acolyte he already could perceive the cracks in the false mirror of strength and superiority. A beacon of control never unleashed their Sith given right to Rage, Emotion and Passion until the most opportune time it could be swelled up for your service.

He'd give this contest six moves or less,

what a pity. . .

 

[Ellie Mors]

The Animal

Never had a Sith so openly disregarded their own safety, thrown away the handicaps that Silara gave them, until this reckless display of cruelty. Goading words, taunts, and the death of her firstborn - she'd thought the man's nephew might have taught him to not push something bigger than him into movement, perhaps shown him the terror he might expect if he ever faced off against his betters. Because that's what she was - superior, dominant, and while she'd never want the target painted on her back for claiming the role of Dark Lord of the Sith - as she'd compromised and shared with [member="Darth Carnifex"] after she pushed him to a stand-still - there was not a bone in her body that didn't recognize itself as the apex predator she was.

Perhaps this cur didn't understand what it was to be a lion, to be the beast that stalked mercilessly in the night, what with his grandiose displays of influence and "power". He didn't know - didn't have the experience, the presence - to dictate those beneath him to follow merely by restraining himself, by keeping a level head. He'd came to Khar Shian believing the delusions that his family were so foolishly gullible to buy into - that his nephew's multiple resurrections and escapes from death meant he, and they, were immortals. And if the little brat wanted to pick a fight where rage would be their platform? So be it. But he'd be a fool to think he could fuel himself on his own anger without also giving her a foothold to lord over him.

Perhaps his nephew hadn't told him why she was so much better at dealing with other Sith than she was with Jedi, perhaps he hadn't taken it into consideration - that she fed on every negative emotion, on the sheer presence of the dark side, to bolster her own strength. She doubted he hadn't heard of the actual exchange of blows between herself and Carnifex, either, that she'd switched from a volatile fury to controlled, precise, telekinetic strikes - it was evident by his decision to retain Djem So, the very style she'd pushed Carnifex from during their prior match, that he'd had an inkling of her preferred form. But Makashi required a clear head, a mind free of emotions - driven by logic and pragmatism, something she so willingly lacked.

The impressive brute strength of the Epicanthix was met with the unrestrained fury of Juyo, her body the eye of the storm and the blade the winds that would bear down on him. There was no thought in her mind, nothing but intense focus, adrenaline and rage, as she met blow-for-blow with the Sith Lord. He was perhaps a larger brute, capable of more impressive displays of strength, but Silara was easily more agile and quick on her feet. She didn't play fair either, evident by the sudden telekinetic push she levied on the man when she slid her right foot forward, more than prepared to mix her expertise with Niman into the erratic strikes that she used to press him back.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]


The Kaggath was an honoured tradition of the Sith that stretched back to the days of the hallowed ancients. Upon the field of battle, two Sith would duel for supremacy. Survival of the fittest. Winner takes all. Or something similarly dramatic.


Regardless, the Revenant manifested in the orbit of frigid Khar Shian, former bastion of Naga Sadow. It fell in line close to the Shibito. After all, that ship belonged to another Atrisian Sith Lady with necromantic obsessions. Racial pride for the win.


Lady Tanaka had no particular stake in the fight either way, but morbid curiosity drove her to observe it. She had no attachment to the Zambrano Clan, which seemed to spawn without pause, or Silara, but it seemed prudent to attend and watch the show. Her sleek vessel spilled out probes, joining those of other Sith Lords watching below. It seemed the duel had just started, so she was fashionably late, which suited her just fine.


Aboard her ship, Sumiko was concerned with truly important matters. "Hmmph. Which colour is best?" she wondered aloud, while she lazed around on a couch and observed the probes' footage through a monitor. Akuma, her faithful, mutated Atrisian tiger, lay on the floor close to her. His sharp teeth had been on chewing on something tasty.


A book made of human skin rested on the couch. It was the eldritch tome of a Bando Gora Sorceress. While most of the Chaos worshippers had been thrash, some of their knowledge was useful and this one possessed remarkable alchemical insights.


"Black, Lady Mistress?" her Xioquo slave girl Qaen'Zaro asked timidly. The pretty drow was obedient, adventurous in the bedroom and had a high pain tolerance. That's why she wasn't a zombie. Good slaves were so hard to acquire these days.


Sumiko waved her suggestion aside like a buzzing insect. "No, don't be silly, girl. That's awfully melodramatic. Hmm. I choose red. Get to work. And don't spill," she spoke sternly. Zaro had spilled once and learned not to do it again!


Being a slave was always unpleasant. Especially if your owner was not only a Neutral Evil sociopath, but also a high maintenance diva with some rather morbid hobbies. The Xioquo was used to it and knew what was expected of her. "Y-yes, Mistress. Red is an inspired choice. It will look lovely on you."


"When you're done, you shall be my footstool." After all, it would not do for the Mistress' freshly painted toenails to get smudged by touching the carpet. "You there, fetch me a glass of wine, and send a transmission to Lord Xiangu," she ordered another minion.

 

[Darth Imperia]

The Great Die Off

---

Trailing behind Aria Vale was Darth Imperia, who was many things. In this context, however, the most relevant of those things was 'Darth Vitium's Former Apprentice.' Their relationship, Vitium and Imperia's, wasn't a complicated one. In fact, it was rather one-sided; Imperia felt a certain fondness for her mentor, a sort of kinship, along with gratitude for inducting her into the ways of the Sith. Vitium, being more or less a complete sociopath, had no such fondness for Imperia, a fact which Imperia was fully aware of. Logically, then, the Knight shouldn't have cared what happened to Vitium, for the latter's heart would be no more moved by Imperia's hardship than a stone.

But the Sith were creatures not of reason and rationality, despite what they may have told themselves; their power came from the Dark Side, and the Dark Side fed on passion. Passion was not logical, it was not calculating. Rage, raw and unrefined, spread from Imperia, her mind the center of a psychic vortex of the darkest, most violent impulses of the soul. There wasn't an ounce of worry, however - Vitium would best Prazutis, as surely as the sun would rise in the morning. Prazutis would die today, but the Zambrano family was a large one.

There'd be someone left to punish for this.

---

[member="Aria Vale"] [member="Darth Vitium"] [member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Kentarch looked down on the two about to begin their little spectacle. As [member="Lord Ajihad"] spoke Kentarch listened but did not shift his gaze from the standoff. Kentarch would not say or show it, but he was impressed that the ways of the Zambranos or the One Sith did not corrupt him.

"Strength that is never touched by ruthlessness is touchingly irresponsible." Kentarch quoted in a reply. Then again Kentarch always held the Sith Assassins in higher regard than other Sith. Darth Prazutis then showed that he didn't understand this lesson when he then in a tasteless act executed a defenseless girl. Then the two Sith began their duel.

"I am not well." Kentarch continued. "As you can see instead of a sacred ritual, the two sling themselves into combat like drunken brawlers. Being a Sith means adhering to Sith teachings and traditions, its what defines what we do and who we are." Shaking his head he continued. "Now we have no Empire, no sovereign state. Our forces are scattered and not even a shadow of their former self. The Mantle, Dark Lord of the Sith, is lost as well with at least a half dozen lesser Sith Lords claiming the title." His cloaked head shook back and forth in disappointment.

More had gathered to watch the fight transpire. He wondered who they backing, and if one of the duelist did fall, what consequences there would be from the crowd. Time would tell.