Battle of the Beasts

[Dark child]

Moraband

Sacred.

Sacred is what they called this place. Those that set the stones..closed the crypts...

Hallowed. A monument to power. Power which they craved.

Whispers. Of things that should long have since passed tormented the boy. For he, more than many of the others that walked these lands, always sought answers outside himself rather than within. He was not susceptible to greed, but rather control. While he did not know it, that was the very reason he was here, why he would always have made the decision to come to this place. He wanted to follow. Death wanted him to bear witness to it's great achievement, this accursed planet. Suffering and grief resided here, together they had built the long lost structures now buried under his boots. Try as he might, he could not shut out those that called to him. They were always there. From the moment he entered the atmosphere, and took his first step across the sand-blown surface, they had been there. They sensed his weakness, his will to obey. Piercing his mind with their vile intentions. Voices, no louder than the faintest of whispers, called out to him in the ancient dialect of this Sith.

The youth did not understand them. The whispers grew louder, demanding to be heard. Deprived of their servants from ages past, they sought to rise again, share their knowledge and corruption with the word of the living. Did they not understand?! He wasn't like them! He wasn't like them at all!

Xanthier felt so alone in this wretched place. He wished for it to swallow itself. To be consumed by the hate of all those that had made it as it was. How could she send him here? As his mind strove to drive out that which plagued him, he began to realize this was not about gaining an ally. She had sent him to see if he could bear it. If he could harden his mind. He was weak in her eyes. He had accepted her as his superior, but they both knew of each others motives, they both knew that one day the fragile line between ally and foe would break, and the wolf would once again seek to rip out his master's throat.

The voices within his head receded as Xanthier stepped into the dark corridor. Out of the harsh winds. Sand fell from his armor, falling softly to the floor of the hallway. Illuminated by the dim light of brazers that cast an otherworldly glow upon the shadows as they danced. He had arrived. The youth could sense it. Not with the force, but something primal within himself, his instincts, his gut, they told him the one he sought was here.

Xanthier's grey irises scanned all as he walked into the darkness of the crypt, only the light of the brazers to guide him. His tattered boots made the softest of clicks as he made his way down the long hall.

His ears picked up sound, and he paused. Voices. Cries. At first, as they entered his ears, Xanthier thought them to be the very same ones he had heard in the desert. Though the more he listened, he could tell that these were far different. They were of agony.

The youth could hear his own breath as he took cautious steps, traveling further and further into the dark. It was cold here. A chill that only the dead were capable of possessing. Xanthier could feel in his bones, his muscles shivered involuntarily, if only for a moment. The black haired boy was not susceptible to temperature. He had faced the blackness of space and the chill of ice planets. He had felt their deadly kiss as the cold licked at his skin, threatening to freeze his flesh. This was different, it was not within the body, but the mind, and once again, he struggled to combat the feelings.

The hallway came to a dead end. A fork. A blank stone wall lay in Xanthier's path, and he was forced to choose left or right. The boy sniffed the air. Searching for anything that might lead him to the one he sought. His answer came in the form of distant smoke. Filtering down through the halls. To the left.

It got darker as Xanthier made his way further from the light of the entrance. The brazers burnt lower than they had, barely casting any shadow on his pale face.

The cries grew louder. Wails. Inhuman sounds. But one did not have to be human to understand those that made them were in pain.

Xanthier stopped in front of a door. It was anchient, and faded, like the rest of the temple, runes were etched into it's surface, and at head level, there were several iron bars that had begun to rust.

Xanthier leaned in towards the bars slowly. Peering into the darkness which he only added to by obscuring the small space that was the only source of light. The cries had stopped, and the boy paused, gazing in to make out the faintest of shapes on the floor.

Closer and closer, the youth strained to see what was inside, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could discern that the shape was that of a human body, one that was absolutely still. Xanthier was about to turn away, for he could not bare the sight. One which was all too familiar to himself. He felt sickened that so many Sith used others as their playthings.

His thoughts distracted, Xanthier did not see the rotting hand that reached through the rusted bars. In utter silence it latched on to his long hair from behind, and pulled back. Slamming his head against the metal.

Xanthier immediately retaliated, his own pale hand reached back, grabbing that which held him, it's skin felt wet, like raw meat, Xanthier pressed it downwards, into the door as hard as he could, hearing the crunches as it began to break, louder as the sounds originated so close to his own ear. Injured, the being released him, but Xanthier was far from finished with his attacker. Lunging through the bars with his arm, Xanthier managed to snag whatever it was by the neck. Pulling it closer so that he could look into the creature's eyes.

The thing which now snarled within his grasp was far from human, in fact, the body still lay there, Xanthier could see it in the blackness, through the bars. It was merely this thing's food. The dark haired boy stared into the grotesque face of the being he had caught. Despite the similarities between it and himself, their pasts of being caged against their will, he felt no pity towards it, and in one quick motion, crushed it's neck within his hand, leaving the body to rot in the cell. It would suffer no more.

Retracting his arm out from between the bars, Xanthier felt a surge of hatred. He had not known his master would send him to fetch one who did such vile things to other creatures. She had told him that the being he would find was not unlike himself, created under darkness, shaped by the will of the one who created him. Xanthier had hoped that he could sway the being, help him see the horror that was the Sith Empire and aid in it's destruction, but the youth saw now, all too clearly, that the being he sought was worse than his creators, a twisted soul with no regard for life. So it was that he gave up on his foolish thoughts of making him his own ally. Xanthier would carry out his master's intentions, persuade the Apostle's Beast to join the sorceress...or destroy him.

The hall ended abruptly, opening up to a room that seemed to be encased in grey. No light entered except that which was cast upon the walls from the center of the room itself. It was there, in the open entryway that the boy paused once more. There were no exits, no other doors. He had never felt so far from the light. Deep underground was the chamber, which had once served as a tomb for the head priest of the temple. Now, the body was nowhere to be seen, and on it's stone pedestal, lay many dark objects. Xanthier, who was not as attuned to auras as many that shared the gift of the force, could feel their horrid energy. Corrupted kyber crystals sat amidst the relics. They themselves were the only source of light, a red that saturated everything it touched, even casting a glow on the youth's white face.

In front of all this, was what Xanthier sought. What he had came for. The creation of the Apostle. Who's back was still turned, obsessing over that which resided on the cold stone, despite undoubtedly sensing the boy.

After a brief pause, Xanthier finally spoke the words. They lacked emotion, resembling simple statements. His eyes locked on the form of the being in front of him, taking in all that they could. Searching, for weakness, searching for answers.

"She told me I would find you here...beneath the earth. If I called you by what you were known by, would you remember..? That name is lost to her mind. Should I simply call you a Beast?"

The boy paused, awaiting his answer.

It was risky for him to come here. Many Sith wished his death, yet many would not recognize him. He had slaughtered their kind in the distant reaches of the galaxy, but such petty acts were nothing. A few members of the Empire mattered little in comparison to the whole. Perhaps those that died were weak. Now, here on this planet, the very heart of the Sith, he stood and addressed one of their kind.

The boy did not look like much, malnourished, but beginning to regain his strength, his scratched and pitted armor did little to hide the fact that he lacked muscle. Skin sickly and pale. Of all things that made him who he was, his chest stood out the most, for there, in the center of the faded armor plate, was the burn mark of a saber. Melted through the metal and into the flesh beneath, leaving the charred mess exposed to the air. It appeared as though he should not have lived, but the wound was less severe than looked in the eye of the beholder, just incredibly slow to heal. A gash of a similar origin adorned the side of his ribs, this had mended itself long ago, and now only scar tissue was visible through the small gap in the armor.

Only the Sith were foolish enough to guard the dead. Worshiping those that came before them. What kind of monitoring technology they had was unknown to Xanthier, and said security worried the boy. Though he told himself that this would be a quick visit... The hijacked Ziost Hunter had been of great use in camouflaging movements in the past, but he feared that being this close might draw attention. It was a couple years old now, having belonged to Kalen, a member of the Imperial Legion, before it was hijacked in Cornet City by a trandosian with a superb taste in music. Said trandosian had agreed to allow the boy to use it provided that he return with grilled cheese sandwiches. A worthy trade.

Spoiler: OOC

This will be a thread between Simonev and I, but anyone is welcome to join. My only request is that you let us interact in a few posts before jumping in.

@Simonev

Len'Raz / Xanthier​

 

[Simonev]

He was blessed for this voyage...
...He was chosen as the host...
...He was ready to end this once and for all.​

He saw them, every step the Spawn took he could have seen them staring at him, all twelve shadows of the long dead Sorcerers followed the Beast on his voyage inside the dark tomb of M'bal, the Corrupter Of Flesh, least powerful of the Apostle's but at the same time of the greatest Alchemist's of his time, he infused countless creatures with the powers of the Darkside, and now each single one was encased with himself in this place, seeking blood, seeking prey, but most of all...
...seeking Death.
But the Beast would not care about the Corrupter's creations, as he was here in search of something else... the Map, the one, single thing that could lead him to each and every single Apostle's Tomb, with that relic in his hands and M'bal spirit stabilizing inside his soul he could have started his personal Crusade toward reaching Metastability between the multiple sides of his broken, corrupted mind.
And so there it were, the dark kyber crystals encased inside the sarcophagus were the map, each one of them had the exact coordinates of each tomb inscribed in the ancient Red Sith Language, this was the last missing piece of the preliminary puzzle, and it was at a hand distance... if only... if only...
...if only the stench of death and darkness wasn't palpable since the boy got inside the tomb.

Len'Raz, Argo Khalk, Spawn, Apostle, Beast, i don't care about the name you want to give me, I received many more than your mind could even process with twelve different lives being inside my head... without counting the true me obviusly, Memories concern only the fool and the dead, now I want to know who you are of the two, eheheheh?.
Eheh... Now, why you decided to desecrate the Corrupter's unholy sanctuary with your mere presence, Tortured Soul?

The Beast body would start to twitch and bend unnaturally toward the boy, revealing the inhuman features of the Beast, a pair of burning, golden dots for eyes and an old, metallic armor covering most of his body, with the most prominence on the gauntlets and their shields.
But then, when the two last words were spoken, Xanthier would feel them, the ancient energies that were part of the temple started almost literally pouring out of Len's body in the form of a thin purple mist, slowly covering the lower part of the room.
Meanwhile, shadows silently watched the scene... for now only visible by the Beast's eyes and mind.​

 

[Dark child]

Eyes, which burned with the intensity of lost stars gazed at the boy. Unlike any pair Xanthier had ever before seen. They were not of the Sith. Hatred, malice, suffering and greed, such things were always present when the black haired boy looked upon the faces of those he hated most, servants of the Empire. These were of a different kind, made of something deeper. Pure and dark. As if they themselves wished to expel all light from within the creature that stood before him. Metal plates of The Beast's armor shifted as he turned towards Xanthier, their metallic surfaces glinted to the slightest degree under the soft glow of the kyber crystals. It was then that Xanthier realized what was missing, and it was the absence of what should have been therethat put him on edge. The Beast had no mouth, no vestige from which to speak, yet his words were clear as day. The dark side knew no bounds in shaping those it held. Human features had all but disappeared from the creation of the Apostle.

Forward, crept the creation, moving ever onwards towards the black haired boy. It's gaze never leaft him, studying his every movement, eyes like blue coals searched for weakness and prodded for dread. Yet Xanthier did not move from where he stood in the entryway of the crypt.

Shadows appeared on the walls, faint glimpses of things that should never have casted shadows at all, flickering in the dim light. The boy smelt it, the unnatural dark scent coming off of Len, but he choose to ignore it. To harden his mind against whispers that still dared to penetrate his skull.

"Is it not obvious?"
Xanthier's darkened lips stood out against his pale skin as they lifted in a smile.
One that was not vile, but genuine and almost soft, for all the wrong reasons.

"I came for you. For everything that you are, and everything that you should be."
"Everything" included dead, but the boy was not about to reveal the hatred he felt towards the misshapen being. He was, in fact, quite in control. The emotion was omnipresent within the boy, it longed to be set free upon the world. He had staved off his own bloodlust for that which existed in exchange for a promise of vengeance. These morals which Xanthier now held to be true were nothing more than a cover up for what he truly was.
An animal that wished to feed on anything in it's path.

Any unwelcome feelings were swallowed by his own dark aura, making Xanthier's intentions difficult to read. He was unwilling to fail his master. One way or another he would please her. Len'Raz did deserve death in his mind but so did she. All in due time.

Beast to beast Xanthier would talk to the Apostle's spawn, and if he could not convince such a being to join him, then, and only then would he fight Len'Raz tooth to claw. Xanthier had grown to realize that there was a much bigger picture to look at in the future, and plenty of time to make the Empire pay for what they had done.​

 

[Simonev]

Then who...​

The Beast shouted with a deep, angered voice as blades would sprung out of both his shields and gauntlets, engulfing his hands in golden fire as the two "main" blades slided against each other when his arms started opening toward each side, this was mostly an act of intimidation, like a cobra's hood suddenly showing up when threatened.

...Who sent your soul to suffer for me...
...Who sent you to interrupt my search for The Map...
...But most of all, why shouldnt I just dismiss your intentions and fry you on the spot!?​

The creature would start bending slightly forward with each word, his eyes quickly interchanging color, first green, then red, purple and at last back to gold, his actions becoming more beastly and inhuman, and the faint glow of the crystals becoming brighter, reflecting their light on the metallic plates of the Spawn's ceremonial armor.

 

[Vinny]

STORYTELLER:
The desiccated tomb world of the Sith was a forbidden place. The world was so steeped in darkness that it possessed some manner of will. The deeper one went, the stronger one felt it's presence. A cloying, unnatural chill that hung over everything. Even on the brightest days of this desert-strewn world, there were moments where one felt like they would freeze to death. That will that clung to the flesh of the two souls that had descended upon the world had granted permission to only a few to step foot on it's unholy ground. The Emperor, The Dark Lord, and the Dark Council were the only beings who bore any right to it's dunes. These two were not among their number.

Len'Raz had been present when the Dark Lord of the Sith, Cain, Lord of the Mind, had sensed the intrusion. He had petitioned the Dark Lord to grant him leave to go to the world and hunt the corruptor himself. So then did Cain, warning his arrogant pupil that the world would not accept him, permission or not, gave him leave to enter the space of Moraband.

Xanthier, the broken Sith, who swore allegiance to no master, had explored this place and discovered the tomb which he had sought. The world's will, though, had remained still and only circumstantial dangers had crossed his path. Until now. Now Len'Raz and Xanthier were nearing conflict and the will of the misbegotten world had found it's moment to strike. The walls of the tomb shook with an unholy, piercing roar that brought dust and debris down around them. Sand poured from a crack above and the scent of death became ever-present. A rotting, bile-like odor that permeated every inch of the room, mercilessly attacking their senses.

A whisper shattered the silence that followed the roar. A single word uttered in the language of the ancient Sith.

"Lavonasottoi!"​

It meant, "to corpses".

There was a thundering crash! Stone crumbled on the eastern side of the chamber and thick blocks of stone burst from the wall-some of it flung in the direction of the two intruders. The cloud of dust was torn in two by massive, scythe like arms as a beast out of ones nightmares clambered forth. Hunchged and vaguely humanoid it had arms as wide as columns and bent legs that were built solely to support the enormous bulk of it's torso. It's head was an amalgam of teeth, claws and horns. Two eyes of scarlet burned beneath tremendous brows. Hungry drool dripped from it's jaw as the Tarentatek gnashed it's teeth and hurled itself at them, it's arms rising and falling in an effort to crush the two in one incredible leap.

GOOD LUCK!
This thread is now Death Enabled!​

 

[Dark child]

The boy did not display any emotion, his pale face and ragged hair further illuminated in the glow of the red crystals, light which was magnified with every step the Apostle's Beast took towards him, further adding to the detail in the youth's sunken cheek bones. The glow increased with intensity with every word that the twisted being spoke as he stepped towards the boy. The personas of the Apostles themselves were contained within Len'Raz, the horribly disfigured creature extended his arms, producing long blades attached to the gauntlets as he spoke, as they all spoke. Xanthier could feel them in each breath he inhaled, he could sense their vile nature, an aura which closely resembled the first Sith the black haired boy had ever felt all those ages ago. Brighter and brighter the kyber crystals around the stone base of the sarcophagus grew, shadows, which had been too dark to cast shapes on the walls now elongated as the light touched all objects within the chamber. They were all rivals within this tomb, hatred dwelled here. Buried, but never forgotten. Sith cling to life, for it is their source of power and of their suffering. Great defiling had transpired here. Sacrilege committed by the spawn of the Apostles.

The dead do not sleep on Moraband. Xanthier took the rise of light to simply be of the being which stood before him. An incantation of Len that had spread through the chamber. This was far from the truth.

The boy did not respond well to threats. The air around the Beast bent and warped in the light of the crystals. On a distant plain, separate from that which Len'Raz's words registered in Xanthier's ears, the Apostles spoke their own whispers and lies from within the confines of their prison of flesh. Heard by the master of the crypt whom servant's body had been desecrated by the Beast to retrieve the ancient map.
Trespassers, defilers, betrayers.

Xanthier was oblivious, he had shut out the whispers of the planet and with them the rage which was building around the two of them as the Beast spoke. His eyes were affixed to the weapons at the sides of the twisted being who asked him questions.

"I suffer for no one. I offer you aid and a chance to better yourself and you show me your blades. Seems hardly fair."
Xanthier's eyes shifted to the burning embers of the Beast as he spoke, gazing into the pits of light as they changed color.
"You have never felt power like her's before, and you never will if you take one more step against me. Do not choose your actions blindly Beast, I offer a chance at greatness."

The creation did not have time to respond, for at that moment a voice shook the entire temple, causing sand and chips of the ceiling to fall down around the two of them.

The wall to Xanthier's left erupted, casting stone and debris into the air as the tarentatek obeyed it's masters command. Xanthier shielded his face from the bits of rubble, but one stone larger than his fist slammed into one of the armor plates that covered his stomach, causing him to stumble backwards as it impacted, coughing on the dust which hung in the air but remaining on his feet.

From out of the cloud of dust, and in the dimmed light of the crystals, Xanthier got his first glimpse of the absolutely massive creature. It's horns and head the only thing visible through the settling dust. Then, it lunged.

Xanthier, who was still standing in the doorway, opened his mouth as he saw the massive limb of the beast descend from out of the cloud. Flinging himself backwards into an improvised flip, his hands connected with the floor of the tomb and he landed on his back and rolled into a crouched position, somewhere between the short hallway leading to the chamber and the exit to the corridor. His hand instantly reaching for the cold metal hilt of his lightsaber.

​

 

[Simonev]

I don't search power, i search stability, as through stability, i reach ascension, through ascension i reach the Dark, through the Dark i reach Domination.
But knowledge is power, and im in desperate need for knowledge... Bring me-

As the Spawn wanted to conclude his words, the walls crumbled, revealing the aberration that the Sith Lord was hiding, the force-hungry mutation would slam his first into the tomb, trying to make the two force sensitives be part of the unresting dead.
And so, as the Beast would dodge the Tarentatek's fists with slight steps toward the human, the red, corrupter crystals... "The Maps" were pulled by Len'Raz mind and inside his armor, were they would not be harmed by the third beast that just joined.

We will continue our discussion later, now, shall we do what we can do best?

On a split second, the Spawn's attention moved to the Tarentatek as he took out his Sunspear Pistol and shot 4 bolts toward the beast's eyes as with the other hand he kept himself on a defensive position.
Somehow, the two dark-siders have to put aside their conflict for survival, somehow.

 

[Vinny]

STORYTELLER:
The Terentatek roared with blind fury. It's bellow shaking the walls of the buried temple. Finding no pulpy corpse beneath it's massive arms it turned and continued it's attack. A single blasterbolt from the hail of shots fired by one of it's targets scored a hit that seared a glowing wound atop it's head. Howling with impotent rage it spread it's arms wide and charged again-aiming to wrap both crushing limbs around the two men who stood so close together now. Just as it reached the two of them it brought its arms together before sweeping them apart wider, aiming to swipe at the entire vicinity around it.

Around them all the temple shuddered and cries of the dead began to rise up from beneath their feet. Angry howls of those enraged by the coming of individuals that did not belong. Shrieks of indignation scratched at the minds of the two men.

@Simonev @Dark child

 

[Dark child]

Before the youth could answer, Xanthier saw the terentatek's massive horned head rear up in rage from the high energy blast of the Beast's blaster, which still smoked in Len'Raz's hand. It's thick armor easily absorbed the shot, and although it's forehead would remain charred where the bolt impacted it had done little to actually stop the creature from obeying it's master's single command.

Enraged, the monster moved forward with increased speed, sweeping towards the black haired boy with it's massive arms, forcing him to retreat ever further up the hallway. The guardian's body was too large to fit into the gap, though that would not stop it. The terentatek's chest pressed against the ancient stone, causing audible cracks in the entire structure as crack the structure Xanthier gazed briefly up at thedust and debris which fell from the ceiling of the darkened hallway, larger chunks of what had been the ceiling came crashing down towards where the terentatek stood and it now shoved it's clawed hands and scaly arms towards the walls attempting to crush them once more.

It's reach was far more than the youth expected, Xanthier barely managed to dodge the second wave. The terentatek's fist slammed into the wall a foot from where he had been standing. Once more the stone gave way under it's strength, and as the arm was removed, Xanthier could see the ring of concentric cracks left in the wall as the creature prepared for it's next attack.

His grey eyes searching around in the dim light for his would be ally, Xanthier spotted the red glow of the crystals emanating from Len'Raz's armor.
"What could you possibly gain remaining here!? Leave with me now or join the dead!"
The horrific screams had already begun to pierce deep within his mind and break his concentration, his voice was a low growl. It was not a suggestion, it was a promise. If the Sith did join him, Xanthier would aid him, but if Len'Raz decided to fight the terentatek, he would leave The Apostle's Beast to his fate. The boy began to loose touch with reality, shrieks and wails filled his ears as he backed up down the hallway, nearly to the exit to the long torchlit corridor. He struggled to keep himself together enough to await Len's reply. To stay much longer would surely be his doom.

Pleasing his master was not worth the risk of staying here. It filled Xanthier with anger that Len'Raz would choose to fight despite the odds. Once again proving that that Sith always had to show demonstrations of their power. He would wait but a moment for the Beast to make his choice.

This place would not become his tomb.
Xanthier refused to be buried beneath the rubble with those he despised.​