Ask Naboo Chronicles of Naboo

[Veles]

A Matukai practitioner? Veles remembered of fighting one during the tournament some months ago, way before he became a Sith Lord. He had humiliated his opponent both in combat and psychologically, so he supposed he could show Altair the weaknesses that he could avoid. The idea of the Acolyte not having a lightsaber as a Sith slightly irked him, mostly because in his view, crafting a lightsaber was one of the most important rituals a Force user goes through, if not the biggest. And Veles was big on rituals.

He simply nodded, still undecided of when he would choose to guide Altair through the lightsaber-making process but aware that they were a long time away from that. Instead, he turned his attention to the street around them, searching for another person around to see if everyone here dressed like medieval peasants. And as the woman screamed and he whirled around to look toward her, he sighed. There always had to be some bullshit.

"No! Wait!" he called out as those around them grew hostile. A rock flew toward Altair, but the Sith Lord flicked two fingers as he spoke in a gesture so small no one would notice, and sent the rock flying back toward its sender. It struck the man directly in the forehead and sent him stumbling into a dark alley, where he collapsed, unconscious from the impact.

Veles turned to follow Altair, but realized that if he did not calm the mob right now they would grow far too riled up for them to be able to do anything about the situation later.

"Your companion is a demon! The Gods will strike him down!" cried out a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard wearing a simple shirt that looked like it had seen wear every single day of the man's life. And Veles had no doubt it did.

"Would a demon slay a dragon?" he asked, raising the pearl up for the villagers to see. For a brief moment, they stared in stunned silence. And then all hell broke loose again, and he could see villagers rushing into their homes to fashion all sorts of weapons.

"There is no dragon anywhere around here, heretic! You lie!"

Veles sighed, exasperated by the small-minded peasants, and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. The librarian dashed away right before he went in, mouthing I'm sorry and he'd understood; being associated with them two would be a death sentence.

"Altair... You mustn't care about the curses some insignificant and ignorant lifeforms hurl your way," he said softly, careful to diffuse the situation. He could sense the clashing sadness and sadness within him. "You're a skilled fighter and you've done nothing wrong today. If any opinion matters, let it be mine."

Outside, the guards were gathering in front of the door, gripping their spears and swords with clammy hands, their teeth practically chattering at the concept of fighting a demon. "Has he arrived yet? He hasn't? No matter, prepare for the assault." The leader of the city's defense forces strategized and commanded his men, his mind racing and heart pounding. This was it. This would be the moment he would prove himself.

"They're going to try to attack us," he stated matter-of-factly but not unkindly. "We need a plan. I can hold them back and we can try to reason with them again or we can slaughter them where they stand. It is your choice." A test just as much as it was an act of kindness--Veles gently trying to use the opportunity to nudge his apprentice toward making important decisions and learning to take charge. Regardless of what Altair chose, whether or not he considered it wise, Veles would be behind him, supporting him. Because that was the whole point of having an apprentice.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

The librarian had bailed on them. The townspeople gathered like an angry mob outside. Their weapons were in the king’s castle. The town guards were gathering weapons to mount an assault. Altair could hear all of it, and he silently sat there. This was more than he ever had to deal with. He thought about all the kindness he had shown, all the plans they had made to reason with the townspeople. And how none of it mattered because they didn’t even want to give him the chance to speak. Where he felt only defeated and upset, the emotions were rapidly changing. They were shifting. They were evolving. They were degrading. His blood was molten lava flowing through his veins.

It was just him and Veles now. It was them and the rest of this Force forsaken town of people that wanted nothing more than to butcher them. No, butcher him. Everyone had left. Everyone had turned on him. Veles could have turned on him. But he did not. Altair slowly looked up at his master. A hand reached up and slid the tomato off his horn, tossing it aside. He considered his master’s words, but Veles would already see the truth in Altair's violet gaze.

“Peace is a lie,” He began, “There is only passion. Through passion, I gain my strength,” He slowly rose to stand from where he was seated, keeping his gaze on Veles’, “Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free,” The last few words came out almost as a low growl.

“If they will not listen to reason, they will listen to fear. If they want a demon,” He stared at his Master for a long moment, “They’re going to get a fucking demon.”

He said nothing more, the Force slamming against the door of the apartment to send it clear off its hinges and toppling over the people that had been standing behind it. Altair stepped out again, using the Force to send a group of people flying back. The display caused more panic and screaming but he didn’t care.

A guard rushed at him but Altair coiled the Force around his neck, lifting him up off the ground. He was mercilessly thrown aside, his head slamming into the wall with a sick crunch as blood smeared against it. He trailed the blood all the way down as he slumped to the ground.

“DEMON!” People shrieked.

Altair slowly turned to look at them, his violet gaze burning with fury, “That’s right.”

@vamp

 

[Veles]

He could feel the rage bubble within his Acolyte, the sadness turning into anger directed at the villagers. Veles did not step in to stop him, did not advise against the slaughter. Altair needed to be exposed to the dark side, needed to delve deep into it so that he may find himself, and that meant committing horrific things. He needed to feel his fists pound skulls to bits and shatter ribcages, or else he would be too afraid to mingle with the real extent of his power.

"Very well," he stated simply, nodding. His apprentice slammed the door open, instantly being descended upon by a guard but putting him down just as quickly. The Sith Lord emerged from the building as well, behind Altair, green mist now completely surrounding him, coiling from the bottoms of his feet around his legs and up along his waist, trickling between his fingers and covering him like a shroud. The orange of his eyes seemed even more impossibly intense, like the reflection of a fire burning. There was no emotion as he gathered the Force to himself and lashed out, sending a concussive blast that slammed into a group of people and sent them flying into a wall. They broke through the stone and came to a stop in the interior, sprawled on top of each other, their limbs in unnatural positions, their bones shattered. He could feel the loss of life like a ripple in the Force, a cold wave that breezed through their vicinity like an afterthought, but only grew stronger as the massacre continued.

The villagers screamed in fear and pain, but even the guards had begun struggling to flee, to no avail. Veles charged one, sword in hand, his body a blur, as he stabbed his cutlass into the man's chest from behind and it erupted from the front of his chest in a splash of blood that splattered onto the ground and mixed with the dusty soil. Blood spurting from his mouth and a look of fear in his eyes, the guard collapsed to his knees and face-first onto the ground, Veles withdrawing his sword as quickly as he'd attacked.

He weaved through the crowd, not avoiding any civilian. He slashed open faces, slit throats and beheaded villagers and guards alike, his face splotched with warm blood just like his cloak. Veles wanted to say he felt nothing as he murdered them, but he could not. Because as he charged through the crowd lashing out and snuffing out lives, he felt satisfaction deep within. There was no empathy within him in that moment, only a complete disregard for the value of organic life.

From the main road, a lone figure approached, cloaked and hooded. He was silent but moved briskly, hands at his sides. When at last he neared them, the man called out over the chaos.

"Stop! If you must lash out your evil magic onto someone, let it be one who can properly respond accordingly!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the square like a lightning bolt. For a moment, Veles stopped in his tracks and stared at the man, nothing but loathing in his eyes, his face a scowl akin to a wolf baring its fangs.

"I am the Head Priest, skilled in the arts of sorcery. I challenge you to trial by combat so that you may answer for your crimes!"

The priest gathered the Force with his hands, and for a moment Veles was actually surprised the man was capable of that. Then he lashed out, a push that barely even moved the Sith Lord's cloak. And in that moment, the rage that had been blossoming exploded. How dare he taint the Force with his meager presence! his mind screamed. He burst from the still position, dust and blood kicking up in his wake as he practically zipped to the man, his hand extended.

Veles made impact with the priest before he could even react. His hand gripped tightly around the man's throat, he continued to charge until he reached a wall and then slammed the priest into it by his neck, his head simply exploding right onto his hand, the corpse crumpling lifelessly to the ground. And despite the massacre that had begun earlier, it was only now that the villagers realized there was no hope for them. Because they had extinguished it on their own.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Veles would see right away that Altair fought differently than most Sith. Though he had a weapon, it remained unused for now. The Force channeled through every extremity as the tiefling became a whirlwind of motions. He whirled in with a left hook that collided with a guard’s face, the blow enough to down him right there. Altair kept with that leaning momentum, pivoting slam his horns upwards against the underside of another man’s neck, goring him. He kept that spin going, dragging the man pierced against his horns to use him as a meat shield as a flurry of arrows came at him. They all pierced the man’s back as if he were a pin cushion. Altair blasted the man off his horns, sending him sailing back into the throng of archers.

His fists did all the attacking, bones crunching and shattering under the powerful punches. He was agile as he ducked and wove past incoming blows. He briefly noticed his Master joining him in the fray, the might of a Sith Lord on display at once as he made short work of anyone in his path. Altair was encouraged by the display and he felt validated by the path he chose.

Altair was surprised to see the priest and the way the Force answered his call. So this was considered ‘magic’ here? The tiefling watched as Veles charged forth ahead, slamming into the priest and making short work of him. The townspeople were screaming and running in every direction. Altair remained behind, looking around himself. His hands and horns were covered in blood, and he looked more like a demon than ever.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to reason,” He called out to those around, venom dripping from his words, “You have a choice to make. You send your best warriors to help us storm the castle and depose the king or you are our enemy and we continue to slaughter you,” He said icily, “You have lost the luxury of being able to stand by and remain neutral.”

He looked over at their faces. One by one, realization began to dawn on them. They looked towards Veles, who had the pearl on him. While they refused to listen before, suddenly they began to see things differently. They were trembling as they looked between the demon and the white haired monster.

Fear.

When reason didn’t work, fear did. The very people that were attacking them began to line up with them, falling into position. Their families were ushered back away from the scene and they knew what they risked if they did not obey the Sith. Altair had no mercy anywhere on his face, the frightened look of a boy that was lost was gone entirely.

His jaw tightened as he gazed ahead, slowly nodding at Veles before he began to walk. With him, all the men from the town began to march as well.

@vamp

 

[Veles]

Veles jerked his hand a few times, shaking the bits of brain and bone off his arm to the best of his ability. He turned away from the lifeless body of the head priest who had been brutally put down and looked toward Altair, just in time to see him landing devastating blow after devastating blow. He could feel the Force stir around his apprentice, could basically see as the dark side poured itself into his essence, feeding him power that enhanced his movements. Regardless, the Tiefling was clearly not lacking in raw strength as it was.

As the last of the guards fell and the dust settled, Altair's voice tore through the square that had been subdued to a shocked silence. Few villagers still stood there, frozen in fear, while others watched from within their homes, their faces pressed up against the windows. At first, no one responded to the Acolyte's words. They simply stared at him, those stupid looks etched on their faces, every bit of their body trembling like a Gungan on Hoth. And then, movement erupted through the village. Few fled. Most of the men, recognizing their precarious position, simply stepped into their homes to gather their weapons before the trek ahead. Truth be told, they had all been waiting for someone to rescue them from the King, because they were far too weak to take charge of their own destinies and strike the monarch down.

Some knew about the prophecy and seemed to remember it as they walked in stunned silence up into the square, forming a small group in front of the Sith. How could they have been so stupid? In their blind fear of the outsiders, they had brought down calamity onto their homes, had caused a slaughter of their kinsmen that they could have easily prevented. And the heavy burden of guilt began to weigh down on them, the Sith Lord sensing it all and drinking it in. He didn't need to read minds to understand the different expressions as realization dawned on them, followed by that hopeless guilt.

He looked to Altair and nodded back, the two not even needing to speak. Veles knew, however, that he had to say something to the villagers, because barbarians still in the iron age on random backwater planets did not have the discipline or intelligence necessary to properly organize a battle. They might have the raw strength, sure, and the technical skill, but those were useless if they were all shot down by archers before they even reached the castle's walls.

"You fight with us not because we are forcing you, but because this is what you want. This moment is the moment you have been waiting for, every single minute of your insignificant existences doting on the fantasy of a hero coming to save you. I am not reluctant nor disappointed to tell you: that hero does not exist. We are not here to save you. We are not here to depose your King because it is the right thing to do, and we do not care to alleviate your suffering." Their shock was palpable as he laid the cards out on the table. His voice was tinged with the slightest bit of persuasion to stir the battle-rage within them, but he knew it would not be necessary. He could feel that he was already riling them up and angering them enough without the use of the Force.

"We are here to topple the regime of your unimportant monarch because we are forced to. Fate had it that we remained stranded here, and our interests just so happen to align with yours." He surveyed the men and few women, all gathered in the most shabby suits of armor he had ever seen--improvised from bits of hard leather, some with few pieces of chainmail over areas that were not even crucial to their survival while their extremities remained covered only by a layer of flimsy cloth. "I don't care how well you can fight. I don't care whether you want to fight. I don't care if you die and I pray you do die if that means I am successful. We gave you the chance to show kindness to a stranger, and you spit in our faces. Now it is our turn, and we shall make no excuses for the terror that awaits you."

He did not need to say anything for them to begin moving. They started to march, and he could feel the fire burning within their improvised militia. They hated him so much. They despised the Sith Lord and his demonic companion, and would have wanted nothing more than to pile on them both and tear the flesh off their bones with their bare hands. Many were fantasizing about the numerous ways they could snuff out the lives of the two Sith as they marched, but none moved a finger against them. Because they knew they could not. They were forced to fight for them because it meant liberation. Veles knew this, and he knew that hate is the strongest motivator. He instilled it into these troops, made their entire existence revolve around it, because he knew it would turn them into absolute savages once their blades met skin.

The castle grew in the distance ever so slowly as they approach, the villagers silent--but Veles saw no need for that. Walking alongside Altair, he craned his head to look at the Tiefling. "With every new scenario we find ourselves in, you impress me, Altair. The slaughter will weigh heavily on your psyche. You will wake up in cold sweats, the memory of your fist cracking bone still fresh in your mind. You may even hate yourself for it, but I believe it was the right thing to do. It has made you stronger, even if you may doubt yourself."

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair was deep in his thoughts, parsing through the words of his Master as he commanded the villagers. He had never wanted to resort to violence or fear as a way of leading, but what other options were there when hatred trumped all? When his mere appearance stopped others from giving him the chance to explain? The Tiefling was quiet as they marched, his violet gaze taking in sight of the castle ahead.

He looked over when Veles spoke, taking him out of his negative line of thinking. There was a look of surprise on his face as the Sith Lord addressed exactly what he had been concerned about. He hadn’t been through this before and it was clear Veles had. The nightmares and lingering memories sounded haunting, and Altair knew he wasn’t prepared for that. However, the validation Veles gave him in the end did wonders to lift the doubts he felt.

“Thank you, Master..” He said quietly, looking down at his feet as he walked, “I just…hope I can accept who I am after this,” He said barely audibly. Could his best friend Cairo accept him after what he had done? The two boys had no secrets between one another, but would this be one? He could just imagine the horrified look on the Morellian’s face. Altair had always prided himself in defending others or standing up for people. For him to just snap like that? Would Vahliri ever see him the same?

Altair shook his head out of his thoughts, the castle looming before them. The villagers gasped behind them as they arrived. Sure enough, the entire front courtyard was full of impaled ‘learned townspeople’. The stench of rotting corpses was unbearable, and crows and vultures picked at the dead flesh.

Walking amidst all this, Altair seemed less and less like the demon. He could see archers beginning to line at the arrowslits dotting the castle. He looked at Veles, nodding in silence for him to manage the overall cover from incoming fire. In the meantime, Altair rushed ahead, channeling the Force to himself. With that, he blasted at the great doors of the castle. His first attempt yielded no result, but it was only the first volley. He began to build up to try again.

The skies were painted black as arrows zoomed through the air towards the group gathered below. The townspeople were terrified, raising whatever makeshift shield some of them had brought. Others looked away, fully expecting to drop dead right there.

@vamp

 

[Veles]

Part of being a Sith Lord meant that you've been through all the conflicts an Acolyte or Champion goes through, and if you're mature enough, you've developed rational ways of alleviating it. Some Sith think they can just blaze through the ranks on raw strength alone, but quickly find their brains overwhelmed by the powerful emotions and they're unable to control it. Veles was mindful about the dangers of the dark side despite drawing from its power and his will was the only thing standing between him and becoming another Caelestis. It was good for him, however, that his will only grew stronger with each passing day.

He was a bit surprised and pleased that his advice had actually made sense to someone, because he did not tend to give it to anyone. Not that anyone ever asked, except for Malou.

"You are still the same person, only a few minutes older and a bit more powerful. It's all uphill from here," he replied, hearing his muttering. To Veles, the idea of not welcoming the dark side in was inconceivable, which in a way ensured that he remained himself but also did some messed up things. It was the way of the Sith, or something. Altair would learn, as time went on. There was no point in spelling it all out for him.

He smelled the castle before he saw it, and as they neared, Veles could sense the darkness surrounding it. The King had deemed himself a religious man, and yet was surrounded by nothing but his evil deeds. It would make sense if the terrible aura influenced the man's decision, especially if he was not Force sensitive. The Force works in mysterious ways, and affects different minds in different ways.

Veles pulled the Force in like a sinkhole in the fabric of spacetime, and green mist flew out of his hands, soaring above their militia and solidifying suddenly as it covered every bit of the area they were standing in. A protective bubble around them propped up against the wall so that they essentially had a ceiling above but access to the door below. The first wave of arrows rained down onto the shield, peppering its surface with dots as they made impact and then clattered uselessly to the floor.

Altair managed to break down the door open on the first try, and they all charged in, the villagers finally in a mood to fight. Perhaps it was the fear of seeing all those dead bodies or inspiration at his defensive use of the Force, but at least they were pulling their weight for once.

The halls of the castle were large and likely had a unique grandeur once; now, they lay in uncaring dilapidation, cobwebs big enough for spiders the size of banthas to live on hanging from the ceiling, and windows covered so deeply in fog that the light barely filtered through. Veles almost paused for a second. This is where the King lives?

Sure enough, it was, because what seemed to be the royal guard appeared out of the darkness, spears held out ahead and swords waving. They clashed with the militia, spilling blood onto the castle floors until they were completely slippery and soldiers began falling, wrestling around. Veles was pleased to see that his rousing speech had indeed had its effect on the villagers, who went straight for the jugular and fought like savages. He saw one man bash a guard's head open on his shoulder, and had a good feeling about the turn of the battle.

He did not even need to fight, but he supposed he might as well. Stepping up to the front lines, weaving under sword swings and spear jabs, he gathered the Force to himself and began plucking guards out of the crowd, yanking them several feet in the air and sending them flying into their back-ups. The chaos that ensued saw the royalists absolutely brutalized as villagers descended upon their prone bodies.

Veles yawned and turned to Altair. "I think we can slip through and head for the throne room," he called out when only the Tiefling was in earshot, the sounds of battle covering his speech.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

After barging in through the main doors, Altair skidded into the hall. Like Veles, he was caught off guard by everything being in shambles. There was no decor, just the cold and dreary walls and the entire place in disarray. There was also a pungent stench even inside the castle of rotting food and decay. Altair’s face scrunched up, but there was no time to speculate.

Adrenaline was pumping, and his blood was hot in his veins. He had never been in the middle of a full on battle like this before. He began to feel overwhelmed, his heart racing. For a moment, he simply froze in place, his eyes wide as he looked around at all the bloodshed. However, that was when he looked over at his Master. His Master who always maintained an air of calm, his Master who never boasted about his abilities but used them with a comfortable confidence when needed, his Master who was everything Altair aspired to be one day. Simply looking at the man and remembering his words was enough to ignite that fire in the tiefling all over gain. He didn’t need another pep talk, he didn’t need Veles to say a thing, just a glance had done the job.

Altair sprang into action at once, calling the Force to his fists as he shattered faces and jaws. He was a whirlwind of motions again, clearing a path with his horns completely coated in blood and viscera. Altair skidded to a halt when Veles suggested going to the King’s chambers, and he nodded and bolted to the side.

Letting the chaos continue, he took a set of spiral staircases that wrapped around a wide tower. There were guards in his path, but they were blasted back into one another as they climbed. Altair fought and clawed his way to the top, spotting a set of shut double doors that would lead to the king’s chambers.

The tiefling bashed the doors open and saw the king calmly seated at his table. Right away Altair spotted their weapons and clothing. Before he could move, the King raised a hand, gesturing to stop.

“Before you take another step, consider a proposal that benefits us both,” He said calmly, “Over the years I have acquired quite a bit of knowledge and artifacts. I’m a bit of a collector, you see. I have collected works by ancient…wizards and creatures of your kind. Unmentionable things. Powerful things. I would be willing to…part with some of these things if you’d be so kind as to let me go,” He grinned at them, “Naturally, the trade happens if I am completely assured of my safe passage. Or you kill me now and I die with the knowledge.”

@vamp

 

[Veles]

The halls were empty and rotting, and the two Sith charged through knowing exactly which way to take. There weren't a lot of lifeforms in the building now; it wasn't difficult to figure out which one the King was. He doubted the castle's cook has such a comprehensive security detail.

There was blood on the soles of his boots, and he could feel his feet skid as they slammed down on the grimy marble below them. The troops grew more and more distant, but it seemed the peasants had managed to force their way into the palace, fighting with renewed strength as they realized the end was near and for once, they were in charge.

The two Sith clambered and slashed through and over guards, dashing up the staircase, two unstoppable powers. When they emerged onto an empty hall, Veles almost wondered if they were going the wrong direction. Stepping through the double doors, his eyes set on the figure ahead, the famed King.

A skeleton-like man, his skin pulled taught over his bones, the crown atop his head looking like it would cave his skull in. His eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, his hair long, white, and thin like a head full of straw. Draped over his body was a fur-coat that had seen better days, its color faded and molding. As he raised a hand and ordered them to stop, Veles didn't even blink.

He strode up until he was right in front of the man and stared down at him, a terrifying aura around him that the King would feel deep down in his bones, a primal fear at being in the sights of a real apex predator. If he was nervous, he certainly didn't show it, but Veles was sure it was probably because of the guards around them holding blaster pistols. So the Iron Age didn't reach this far up in the castle, it seemed.

"I doubt you are in the position to make demands," he replied, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. It was almost like he was telling the King what he should already be thinking. "And I would like to remind you that the only reason this is happening--the only reason we are here in the first place--is because you saw fit to imprison us the moment we crash landed on this forsaken world."

A silence fell over the room, so quiet that they could hear the sounds of battle outside through the thick stone walls. Then, the King shrugged. "How was I to know the power you wield? As I've said, I am a collector, and it is irrational to barter with every single traveler that passes through these lands." The guards shifted nervously as they stared at the Sith Lord glowering in front of their King, and the man not showing an ounce of fear--although he should be.

"Well, I suppose that's awfully unfortunate for you." Veles had no use for the knowledge of this failing monarch, and he knew that regardless, he was free to raid his library for days if he wished to after the fact, he'd be able to. Regardless, he took a brief moment to look back at Altair, curious to see what the Acolyte was making of this. The Sith Lord was more than willing to raze down the entire delegation in front of them and knew he was capable of doing it, but this was the apprentice's time to chime in if he had another suggestion. Because Veles knew that taking orders blindly was no way to learn to be independent and it was no way to live for a Sith.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair didn’t miss the guards that possessed blasters. He looked around at them, listening keenly to the interaction between his Master and the King. The tiefling was once again surprised when Veles didn’t simply act or order him around. This was the second time he left the choice to Altair. Unlike being caught like a bantha in the headlights this time, he picked up on the silent request right away.

Without warning, their weapons flew off the table and to their respective owners. However, Altair didn’t move for the king, instead extending the wan-shen to catch the incoming blaster bolt. He blasted out with the Force, sending two guards harshly against the wall and knocking them out. Altair ducked as another guard shot at him, aiming and hurling his wan-shen like a javelin. The bladed point drove directly into the chest of the guard as he collapsed on the ground.

There was no doubt that Veles made short work of the other guards by then. The King remained seated, looking incredibly nervous. He knew better than to run and the reality of the situation was rapidly settling in. Down below, the sounds of battle echoed and it was clear some of the civilians were slowly fighting their way up.

Altair glared at the king, his horns and blade drenched with blood, but he spoke to Veles, “We draw from his mind the information he possesses and leave him a shell,” He said quietly. The King’s eyes widened.

“N-No, please please no!” He looked at Veles, eyes widening, “I beg you! Don’t! No! I have money! I will give you anything! NO!”

@vamp

 

[Veles]

It seemed the Sith were thinking the same thing, and their weapons flew off the table at the same time, Veles' lightsaber meeting his outstretched palm in the blink of an eye, already ignited. He deflected bolt after bolt, a flurry of movements as he redirected them back to the guards that had fired them. Some missed, but the ones that did hit killed their origin instantly.

He reached out through the Force, lifting the table that was in front of the King and sending it flying toward a group of guards that had huddled up together in an attempt to take cover behind one another. It slammed into them, turning them into a pile of chainmail and flesh, a few of them still conscious but groaning and writhing around as they caressed their broken bones. It didn't take long to wipe them all out, as even the King had limitations. Finding himself alone, the man seemed to do a complete 180, the fear coming off him now palpable. There we go.

"Very good," he replied to Altair, his eyes set on the man in front of him who had begun to tremble lightly. "We have no other need for him regardless." He extended his hand and closed his eyes, probing the man's mind and then plunging directly inside, finding no resistance at all. This was a weak-willed individual hiding behind mounds of gold and technology, so it wasn't a surprise that his mind was so easily penetrable.

Veles flicked through memories, discarding the irrelevant. He saw nobles in hunting parties through the countryside, lavish castles and chambers full of treasures and technology. The latter perked his curiosity, and he poked deeper, ignoring the man's grunts and groans as he writhed around in his seat, eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Aha. He stepped away from the monarch, and he slumped face-first onto the ground, his eyes glazed over. He was still alive, but he would never be able to move or think again. Veles turned to Altair.

"Now we need to find a ship. He's got a hangar under the castle where he stores his treasures and ships, but it seems to be guarded by monsters." They weren't out of the woods yet.

Veles headed out the door and lead the way down into the depths.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair looked away when the man’s life was all but sucked out of him. He was left a shriveled up mess. The tiefling felt sick for whimsically calling for the death of someone, but how many had he killed to get here? He had to rationalize it in his mind. They had tried the peaceful approach and it blew up in their face. The king had captured them and planned to execute them, and he had a front lawn full of impaled bodies. Were Altair and Veles really in the wrong here? Even so, it all felt unsettling.

He quietly followed Veles down a set of stairs that was discreetly hidden behind the king’s desk. The wall closed behind them as they descended, just as the civilians arrived to see the dead king and celebrate a grand victory. Altair was back in his normal, comfortable clothing and happy to have his wan-shen back.

It was just the two of them here on the way down, “How did you become a Sith?” Altair asked quietly as they walked. He was genuinely curious, “And…why do you have those markings on your face?” While he would have been too nervous to ask these things normally, Altair began to feel far more comfortable in the Sith Lord’s presence. He didn’t have a streak of irrational, unjustified rage.

It would take them a while to get down to the lower levels, and already he could hear some movement and low growls. Was it another krayt dragon?

"What...what're we expecting down there?"

@vamp

 

[Veles]

They were once again on a spiral staircase, this time descending into the bowels of the castle. The stairs initially were quite clean and looked new, but their quality started to degrade more and more as they descended. Soon, the grime was visible, and the dust and vegetation poking through. They went even lower and it became carved out directly into the mountain, so they were surrounded by rough stone on all sides.

"I killed a Sith," he replied, rather casually. "He didn't think I was worthy of joining, so I showed him." He had no idea about the existential crisis that Altair had just had a few moments ago as he saw the prone form of the King, especially because the Sith Lord did not give it a second thought; it had become second nature by now.

"The markings come from Dathomiri magick," Veles added, lifting his hand up and casting a green glowing orb between his fingers. "It's green and doesn't corrupt you as much. But it's okay because I do things that will corrupt my essence anyway to be up to date." His voice did not echo at all in the stuffy staircase, the dense stone essentially soundproof. He grinned a little as he said it.

"How come you fistfight?" he asked. It was interesting to him to see a Sith not using a lightsaber, but then again he was just an Acolyte.

Within a few minutes, they finally reached the bottom, which lead to a massive, cavernous chamber filled to the brim with all sorts of trinkets and treasures, from gold and credits to antique blasters and ships from different eras. Veles whistled as he strode out and the lights turned on. The chamber itself was still carved out of the stone, but it was huge and well-lit, so it had a better appearance than he'd thought.

"Nothing we should worry about," he answered, scanning the mounds around them. He picked up a chalice that looked like it had seen empires rise and fall and then cast it aside as he found the hilt of a lightsaber. He touched the ignition, but there was no kyber crystal so nothing happened.

He could sense the lifeforms and Altair probably could do, but for once, they weren't beings of pure darkness or some insurmountable apex predators. It was wolves, thank the Force. Wolves had nothing on the rest of the things he'd fought recently. The canines slithered their way around corners, appearing almost as if from the shadows. Their heads low and fur raised, their snouts pulled into savage snarls just waiting to erupt from their throat, they crept toward the two Sith, surrounding them on all sides.

"Thank the Force it isn't another dragon or zombies or something!"

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Killing other Sith was exceptionally common, even though Altair found the concept difficult. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if he were ever forced to fight his best friend Cairo or anyone else he had grown to care about. A sick feeling began to bubble at the pit of his stomach. What if that was going to be part of his trial? Would he listen to Veles if that were asked or would he turn on his Master instead? Altair quickly swallowed the lump in his throat and kept walking.

“Do things? Like using the Dark Side or…other things?” Altair asked cautiously, glancing up at Veles. In truth, Altair didn’t know too much about different applications of the dark side of the Force. He was subsequently distracted when asked about fist fighting. His eyes visibly lit up and a smile worked its way to his face.

“I’m Matukai!” He said excitedly, “We use the Force a bit differently and use it to enhance our limbs. I grew up in a small village with Matukai practitioners. All of us learned that way of combat,” Altair looked back at Veles, “I can show you a few things if you’d like,” He said before quickly clearing his throat, “I mean…you’re a Sith Lord…so you probably know everything,” He mumbled quietly after that. Why would a Sith Lord be interested in Matukai practices?

As they continued down and spotted the wolves, Altair was surprisingly relieved. After a krayt dragon and an entire village of people and guards, these were a welcome reprieve. Without hesitating, Altair quickly got to work, using the Force to blast several of them back. This allowed him to focus on one or two at a time as he jammed his wan-shen in to attack. There was no denying that the tiefling was incredibly exhausted by now, and his movements were a tad sluggish. However, he was making quick work of the wolves to where Veles would hardly have to do much.

@vamp

 

[Veles]

He could sense turmoil in the Acolyte as he brought up the concept of killing other Sith, but Veles truthfully had never really had any qualms with it, not if it was strangers. He harbored no particular sense of camaraderie with Sith as a whole aside from his loyalty to the Empire, and tended to keep to himself regardless. It made the most sense, because he would hate to be put into a situation where he killed someone he shouldn't have because they tried to kill him and the situation devolved to chaos. He preferred as little drama as possible.

"Both," he replied nonchalantly as they walked. "I'm not particularly proud of cutting down those that are unarmed or tormenting lifeforms, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do." He thought for a moment, ordering his thoughts around to make sure he didn't give Altair any faulty information or bad advice. "Force lightning, choking, alchemy, and things like that do take their toll on you as time goes on."

It was almost amusing how shocked Altair was at the concept of dark side corruption. Oh, he was still so innocent. There was much that he'd see and feel, and his eyes were yet to completely open. Veles would guide him through it, because once they could see the world around you with the brutal lens of reality, many lost their minds.

He'd fought a Matukai once, during a tournament, and had been able to just barely best him, so he knew that there was some merit to their style of combat, even though some may not consider it traditional. Tradition meant nothing if it held them back.

"I'd like that." He turned a little toward the Tiefling. "I don't know everything. No one does, and anyone who claims they do is lying." That was one of the most important things to learn about the world around them. "They may pretend they do, and it may seem like it, but in most cases it's a strategy for them to gain power over you." Besides, learning was his favorite thing ever.

As the wolves encircled them, Altair blasted the majority of them back, and Veles could see the Acolyte's movements had slowed. He couldn't imagine this had been easy for the Tiefling, especially considering that even he felt a tad weary. Rather than let the apprentice carry the Sith Lord's weight, Veles instead took charge and stepped forward, extending his arm. A blast of telekinetic energy erupted from the ground upwards under two wolves that were close together, and they soared up and toward the ceiling of the cavernous chamber. They didn't reach it, but came flying back down and slammed into the ground with the loud crack of bones being broken on impact.

The rest of the pack glanced toward their fallen pack-mates and hesitated for a brief moment, but pushed forth, teeth bared. They howled and barked as they once again tried to encircle them, but Veles once again broke their circle, this time by simply approaching a wolf, his lightsaber hilt in hand. As it lunged at him, he ignited the blade before it could react and embedded it deep in the beast's neck. It collapsed to the ground and he moved on to the next, moving with a conservative precision, his movements short and calculated.

After he'd downed the third creature, he turned toward Altair to see if he'd finished off the last of them. "It seems everything is trying to kill us on this planet." He kicked one of the bodies blocking his way aside and delved deeper into the chamber. His eyes settled on a yacht that seemed to be in nearly pristine condition save for a few dents on its exterior. Perking up, he strode over and managed to swing the door open, disappearing into the cockpit.

A few moments later, the thrusters seemed to rev up, only for them to climax with a poof and switch off, some energy bursting out and dissipating instantly. "The thrusters are busted!" he shouted from inside, then emerged into the doorway. "It's not a bad ship, and it's fast, but I don't know if I want to spend the couple of hours needed to fix it up. If we don't find anything better, we can just swap out the parts from another craft and put it on this one."

Then, he motioned vaguely to the cavern, his arm extended. "But for now, I think we've earned the right to help ourselves to some spoils." He grinned from ear to ear and started scouring the massive piles of treasure for something interesting.

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair grimaced for a moment, “Darth Raze must be hideous under that helmet then,” He remarked quietly. Didn’t that man constantly use the Dark Side and do awful things? He probably looked like an infected toe under the helmet in that case. The tiefling, on the other hand, wasn’t too worried about his own prospects. He already supposedly looked like a demon so he was halfway there already.

The tiefling was beyond thrilled at having his Master help with the wolves. Truthfully he was beyond tired, and after the battle, he simply collapsed to sit on the ground. The dungeon stank and the air felt weirdly damp, but at least nothing was trying to eat him. Altair looked over at the ship, groaning when Veles mentioned the limitations.

He barely rose to his feet, half stumbling over to look at the collection of spoils. Right away he spotted what looked like a Sith dagger. It hummed with energy, just as a few other things did. Altair kept looking until he came across a ring that pulse with power. He picked it up and stared at it for a long moment. It took him a while to shake himself out of an almost trance like state before he turned and extended it to his Master.

“This seems interesting,” He said, unable to tear his gaze away from the ring. It was almost as if it was whispering to him. Altair cleared his throat and instead grabbed the Sith blade, slowly walking over towards the ship, “Well there’s a small starfighter here but…” He scratched his head, “We’ll really have to squeeze ourselves in and it’ll be a very uncomfortable journey.”

@vamp

 

[Veles]

He audibly laughed when Altair mentioned raze. "Who's to say?" he shrugged looking at Altair through a crystal-studded monocle. Veles chucked it aside and it shattered as it hit the ground, but he was already looking at a blaster that looked like it came from the Clone Wars. He spotted the head of a droid and a stormtrooper helmet, the original ones. He couldn't help himself. Veles grabbed it and took it with him. He was just reading through what seemed to be the private diary of a spacer when Altair spoke up from behind him.

The Sith Lord turned, his eyes falling on the ring. He, too, could feel its strange energy. Veles stepped closer and inspected it, taking it into his hand. The moment his finger touched it, an image flashed through his mind of fire and lightning and the feeling of raging power. He blinked a few times and slid it onto his finger. He'd figure out what it does later.

"It does seem interesting," he agreed, putting the stormtrooper helmet on. "Thank you, Altair." His voice echoed through the stuffy helmet that likely had an entire internal system that was busted. There would be no working microphone or comms.

"Let's see if it works, at least." He walked to the starfighter, helmet still on, stopping right next to it. Veles jumped up onto the ship and then slammed his fist down on where he roughly knew the handle to be. Nothing happened, so he raised it again and pounded even harder. The cockpit slid open.

The Sith Lord threw himself onto the seat and began tapping away at buttons. He didn't recognize many and did not understand the language that the console was in, but he used a vague knowledge to turn it on (which worked) and then try to see if the thrusters worked. Behind it, flames rose to a raging crescendo as the thrusters revved up and Veles looked back. Then, he turned the ship off and hopped outside.

"I think we're better off taking these thrusters and using it on the other ship. It's only going to take a little."

@Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Veles glancing at him through a monocle. When he saw the Stormtrooper helmet, the tiefling completely lit up, walking over, “Wait wait, um… will you…take a pic of me with the helmet?” He asked rather sheepishly. If Veles agreed, Altair would do dramatic poses of himself with it. It was a nice little waste of time, but it gave him his energy back.

Watching Veles confirmed his belief that they would have a tough time cramming into the starfighter, his hopes sinking. However when Veles suggested removing the thrusters, Altair nodded, “You’ll have to tell me how,” He admitted. Being a farmboy, he knew the basics of flying a ship and getting from point A to point B, but he had very little mechanical knowledge.

After enough tweaking, both of them were able to get a ship operating and functional. With that, they were able to take off without a hitch and off the planet. Altair wouldn’t forget this experience anytime soon. And although he despised the townspeople for being judgy, he was ultimately glad they were liberated from their tyrant king.

/End Thread