Whispers and rumbles did not take long to spread, especially when it was willed by the force. Hidden away in the shadows of the galaxy, the cultists remained and continued to brew in powers and strength. Their number had begin touring the worlds in search for relics and artifacts that would further attune them with the dark side. Roman was no different and while he did not venture into the galaxy with fellow cultists, he did embark on journeys with similar goals in mind. Preferring to handle this solo, the Legionnaire traveled to the fortress world of Prakith in the late evening hours.
Nightfall had already occurred, nothing but pale light from the inner moon providing just meager visibility in an otherwise sea of midnight black. His ebony armored form glanced at the location set in his Personav, a blinking blue light indicating that he was arriving in close proximity. Navigating through the treacherous mountain terrain was difficult on its own, following a simple navigator made it that much more annoying. Nevertheless, Roman had prepared weeks for this journey and a slow rise of anxiety began to brew deeper in his belly. Perhaps it would have been better to bring a companion, after all, he was venturing into the unknown with little knowledge of his enemy.
Head tilted upwards to glance at the tall, resonating shadow of the fortress. It was crafted from an obsidian stone, faint shards of crimson light flickering from within the structure's depths along with a radiance of ongoing force energies. Whatever ritual it was, the legionnaire would be interrupting it fully. The galaxy was a large place, and seemingly descendants of the Blood Princess had been accumulating powers that served of interest to Roman. One such, their leader: The Prince. possessed a relic of substantial power, one that could perhaps spell the secrets of long forgotten Sith abilities.
Roman's armored form descended through the front entrance, making his way into tunnels layered in catacombs beneath the mountain ridges. Golden eyes scanned forth until he came onto an opening, the presence of unholy hallow surrounding him as he glanced at two hooded figures attempting a ritual. Hunter green mist flowed from their hands, as one suddenly stopped and turned his head to the newcomer with a predictable and sinister grin. Lips rolled back to expose rows of infested teeth, skin marred by dark sided corruption.
Roman remained in silence for the moment, thumb flicked on the switch of his lightsaber, bathing the room in its crimson glory. His secondary weapon, a vibrosword remained strapped across his back. Left hand opened into a claw like form, gathering and pulling the force to himself into a palm sized locus. It pulsated with his own dark power, eyes twisting and growing into a deeper yellow as he permitted the dark side to take over.
"Your highness..." Roman said, addressing the creature that had turned to glance at him...
The prince, a rotting creature possessed by dark side corruption, rose from his position within the ritual to address their unwanted guest. His sunken eyes rested on Roman who stood at the far side of the room, and he smiled a most unwelcomed smile, licking the blackened tar from his rotten teeth. The room feel silent, no longer echoing with the undistinguished chants of his followers, who now turned their attention to their leader who released a chilled laugh from the depths of his stomach to break the barrier of silence that had fallen.
“You are not welcome here.” He announced, reaching for the rusted blade the hung at his side. His fingers, long and boney, wrapped themselves around the hilt as he prepared to push Roman back so that they may complete their rituals without further disruption. He had no qualms about killing the boy if he took another step closer.
“Leave this place or face a most disturbing death at my hands.” The shrill sound of rusted metal scrapping against its sheath as he removed his sword almost drowned out his words, but his eyes never left the young Legionnaire who stood in front of him, too naïve to understand the gravity of what he was about to step into.
Roman narrowed his eyes as the Prince shifted his attention from the ritual to him, an uncanny evil presence looming over the dark sider, even one that the ambitious legionnaire had recognized and had no choice but to simply respect. He then looked downwards at the rusted blade, raising a slight eyebrow at the usage of a steel weapon rather than the traditional saber he had grown to recognize most of their cult to wield behind closed doors.
"The amulet reeks with your tainted corruption, after I end your legacy, it shall belong to me...along with its power.." He said bluntly, attention focused on the relic that the Prince held in his hand. Thumb flicked off the switch on his crimson saber, placing his hilt away as he too withdrew a longsword from his back. The scraping of steel on sheath resonated with a sound that had been lost for ages, but as the ancient Sith, perhaps the Prince wished to duel with warblades.
It made no difference, Roman preferred the taste of cutting flesh with steel rather than the burnt smell of plasma. The force wrapped around him tightly as he shaped it with his free left hand, fingers curling into a claw like formation. The armored legionnaire stepped towards his right before sending a wave of force derived telekinetic push towards the Prince. It wasn't meant to cause damage, but the interruption intended for Roman to gain the immediate upper hand. Rapidly closing in melee range, Roman began theduel with an easy opening strike, slashing the sword at his adversary's sternum level, from the Prince's right to left. Footwork enabled Roman to maintain his position in between the prince and the other cultists, for in case they wished to aid their aging leader, their line of sight would be temporarily blocked.
It wouldn't have been so easy for Roman to take the upper hand, not with a such a simple wave of the force. He had been too telling in the way that he had used his free hand to shape his attack before releasing it upon the Prince and it was quite easy for him to throw up a barrier to protect himself. Roman moved to close the distance between them and the Prince smiled another rotten smile, drawing his rusted blade to catch the attack. The clashing of steel echoed through the ritual chamber and it near made him shiver with delight. He held Roman there for a moment, pressing his weight into the blade to try and push him back.
"The amulet is mine. You're wasting your time!" He snarled, withdrawing rather suddenly and sweeping the edge of his blade in one solid, vertical motion, towards Romans left side, aimed just below his ribs. If he managed to hit him, he hoped the force of the attack would penetrate his armor well enough to cut the flesh.