Ask Korriban Home Is Where The Heart Is

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai had been doing alot of thinking since Nar Shaddaa. Since the party, where he had grown into his own. Accepted who and what he was openly. He had done some stupid things but at the same time done some incredible things, spent time with a spectacular man that night.The dance he could never forget. And those eyes of fire and passion. The Darkside incarnate, the Sith'ari treating him like royalty. And now he had him alone with him properly for the first time. Azar Kressh. A name he could not forget. He would never. He wondered if he still had his coat. Trodai had let him keep it, a momento. Of what he had done for him and to not forget him.

He had some things he wished to say, a apology among them. On clarity he now knew Karys was a King yes, fit to share his heart, wear a crown and share a kingdom with Azar but it was only Azar who was a true Sith'ari. And Trodai was proud to help him clear his name. Remove a shackle, a chain. Return the favour he had done. It was why he now waited at the star-port of Dreshdae, having managed to use his connections to smuggle him onto the planet under another alias and documentation. Toteuba Hekk iv-Sekat.

He wondered if Azar would find the name amusing and appreciated the irony of it. For Toteuba meant Fury in ur-kittat. To Trodai he was Fury and Passion so it made sense.

He was presented as a important political figure in a lesser vassal clan. A man who was known to fix unique problems with great results. It would allow Azar to escape notice for now.

He had asked Azar to come help fix a problem in particular, one he alone could not solve. For he was but a Acolyte. Azar knowledge and expertise on such matters and how to deal with them far exceeded his own. He needed his expert eyes and intuition. His knowledge. His power and awe. The fire. A newer House had sprung up and was quickly gaining traction. A outsider tribe. The Kraujas Graush iv-Saud he recalled was the name. Translated it read as the House of Blood and Fire. He just found them ridiculous upstarts. That shouldn't belong.

They had begun causing alot of issues for the other Houses. Taking land, people, resources that was not for them, stealing off the other Houses artefacts of importance. And more. Preaching heretical beliefs that contradicted the Code. The Sith. A unforgivable sin in Trodai eyes. Troublemakers, that had to be destroyed root and stem before they became too strong to stop. Any remnant of this 'cult' wiped out. Somehow they had managed to avoid drawing attention to themselves, Trodai hoped Azar could help find a way to expose them.

And make them pay in a fittingly Sith way with his help. In return he was certain it would help clear his name, or at very least no longer be a exile. To be allowed home officially.

But for now no-one needed to know just yet he was back. He knew Azar would likely prefer it that way as well. Timing was everything.

His heart beat faster in anticipation. He remembered what he told him. Home was where the heart is. He still believed that. And he desired to show him his home, his place of growth, his heritage, the springs where he found clarity and now he would perhaps explore other uses for it. Azar willing. He chuckled at the thought. He also hoped to learn a lesson or two. How to make a Sith Sword if time permitted it. It would surely be something to spend time together by a great furnace. The warmth of it and them alone for comfort. Trodai would treat him like the diety he was. Serve every desire and whim he asked. Be his.

And then he saw him. Walking like the god he was. Like Adas himself. The Darkside staring at him. Trodai eyes could not turn, they were fixated. And yet he held up the facade they were playing. Remaining calm, and as collected as he could. With Azar, was what seemed like a dozen different cases of luggage. He had already spent half the day there, but it was worth it. Just to see him, to see Azar again. And he chuckled inwardly at the absurdity of it all. He was very high maintenance. But he expected nothing less from a deity. From a Sith'ari. From Azar. The Grotthu didn't like it but they couldn't complain. Here they were nothing. Slaves to the whims of the Purebloods.

As he got closer, passing through the customs finally and walking up to meet him. Trodai spoke, flashing the biggest, cheesy smile. Bearing his teeth.

"Welcome home Toteuba. I hope your trip was pleasant, I have arranged transport to the Palace, and private lodgings. Please follow me, my mother has told the representatives of your arrival and is arranging to have them meet you tomorrow, and discuss the important matter of the Kraujas Graush iv-Saud. Please follow me. They believed a day of rest and to gather your thoughts would be your preference before starting."

He said although he knew exactly what private lodgings he would be using. His. Telepathically he spoke into Azar mind. Using what his Master, Caerllion had shown him, and show Azar what he had learnt a little in turn.

"Welcome home Azar. And to my home. I cannot wait to show you the Palace. The City of Ur. My place of birth or the springs. I am sorry for some of what I said on Nar Shadda, I was entranced within the moment. Within that dance, it was magical. Majestic."

He carried on as they walked to the landspeeder, a deluxe driven by chauffeur. Trodai keeping his promise to treat him like royalty. Still utilizing Telepathy he spoke.

"I know now in my clarity. Karys is a King yes, fit to share your heart, wear a crown and share a kingdom with you Azar. But it is only you Azar Kressh who is a true Sith'ari. Yet it's true what I said about my heart. You have it, now and always. Even if I cannot have yours. Can you forgive a mischievous fool? Perhaps we can find a suitable...punishment. For my inadequacy." He teased. He ached at the thought of it. His heart pumping. How he would love to be punished by Azar.

On the outside Trodai was the stoic warrior people on the planet knew him for. A grand masquerade. He couldn't wait until they were at the Palace. Luckily his mother and father were away for the evening. Trying to arrange for the other Houses to meet in the morning.

Trodai wasn't going to waste his time.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Toteuba.

He didn’t mind the name whatsoever, and he actually found it a bit endearing. Trodai was misguided at first, but the man was soon proving himself to be an asset. He was bold, unwavering and passionate about his principles. Though who he aligned and followed appeared to change by the week, his commitment and devotion was unparalleled. Azar genuinely knew he could count on the man, and he agreed to arrive on Korriban in an attempt to reclaim his standing.

Azar stepped off the ramp of his ship, adorned in more traditional attire that showed off his bare chest. He also wore an assortment of necklaces and other jewelry that ultimately represented him as a member of royalty. The jewelry didn’t stop there, his nipples also sporting intricate piercings as was traditional for several members in his extended family. Bracelets and rings adorned his hands and wrists. He hadn’t looked the part in almost a decade and he strode as if he owned the planet already.

“It has been a very long time since I’ve set foot in a palace,” Azar said, musing about the Kressh citadel that still stood proud in Dreshdae that was locked to him as of yet.

Azar took a seat next to Trodai in the landspeeder, a second one needed just for Azar’s luggage alone. The smaller man smelled like perfumed oils as if he just stepped out of a royal bath. Azar smiled at Trodai’s clarification and letting him know he was the only Sith’ari. Good, that was exactly how it was intended.

“What are your ambitions, Trodai?” Azar asked as he fixed him with a calculating gaze. The sun glinted against the pureblood’s yellow eyes, his crimson chest and the tattoos shimmering against the warm glow.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai eyes could hardly be kept off the man, he looked stunning like that. He was half tempted to just remove those clothes right there and then but he knew it wouldn't serve their purpose. He was also dressed in traditional wears. Yet his was of a a more traditional warrior attire with his muscular arms on full display ringed by gold. Wears fitted for his size. His family crest sitting at the centre of the gold belt he adorned. Showing him as the noble he was. And the lineage he was born of.

Representing House Adas in official duties.

He was trying not to chuckle as the Grotthu struggled trying to get all the luggage inside, having to call additional help of three more to achieve it. As he sat next to Azar he could smell him, like divinity itself. Fresh and all his. Far from what they were on Nar Shaddaa, here they were the princes they claimed to be and were treated as the royalty they were. With no prying eyes to watch them save the Grothhu who knew better than to snoop or listen less they had their tongues and eyes removes, personally.

Trodai spoke openly.

He saw Azar looking out at the Kreshh citadel, his ancestral home. He couldn't imagine how he felt not being able to step inside just yet. But he was here to change that, and he would change it. No matter the personal cost. His heart was thumping, especially with how he wore the gold and the rings on his nipples. Adorned with riches. He just wanted to bite and service him. Spend all his time pressing body against body. But he knew he couldn't, at least not all of it. However it wouldn't stop him having his fun. He heard Azar speak of not stepping into a palace for a long time.

And so he spoke openly, placing his larger right hand into Azar's hand, if he didn't object. With the softest of touches, he allowed his three fingers to intertwine and mingle.

"I shall endeavour to make sure mine won't be the only one you see Azar. The cidatel there was once your home wasn't it? Perhaps when you are out of exile I might see it with you. Just as you will see mine."

As the second question came, despite his efforts he was finding it difficult to remain composed. He was sweating, and his heart was a war drum. He tried hard not to tremble at the thought seeing those tattoos more closely. He wondered if Azar would ever apply some to more his body. Make him look like more the warrior he was. The only ones he had were traditional for the passing of the Akoge. Perhaps some day he might have more. He wasn't quite sure how to answer at first as his mind raced at all the possibilities.

And seeing Azar there. Just staring at him, those amber eyes like fire drilling into his soul. His Sith'ari. He was a dream, and everything that had happened seemed so surreal. How quickly everything had changed and he had changed. But he wouldn't change it. He knew this was where he belonged.

He tried to think but the words wouldn't form. He spoke, stuttering a bit.

"Good question my Sith'ari. However...it's...um...d...d..difficult to focus on that answer. Your m..mmm..making it very hard for me, especially when you look like that. Like royalty. The divine. And...um...it's very difficult to think where you are staring right into me. With those on your nipples. It's very distracting. But I will try my best to answer."

He took a few deep breathes to try and steady himself, just enough think and to give a serious answer. He thought upon it. Before he would of said to help remove his mother and father from power. But now such ambitions had expanded. Azar was the cause and effect. Now he wished nothing more than to be his iron fist. The one his enemies would see before they were brought to ruin and snuffed out.

He spoke. Calmly this time, but still sweating and his heart thumping.

"At one time I might have said to remove my mother and father. For she wishes I were dead along with my brother. I am a disappointment to her. A grand mistake to the Adas legacy. A weakness. I think secretly she always knew what I was. Who I was. I am. The Red Viper's mistake. You will meet her soon enough."

He shut his eyes thinking about it. How she hated them. It was clear it was a sore subject, as he went a bit more quiet. He opened his eyes again.

"I was seeking to install my brother Mjan in their place, aid his ascension. Even as I ascend and rise myself. And be his enforcer. I have no love for politics or leading. I never have. Even if I must indulge it now and again. I also sought to build a paramilitary company, get out from under their thumb. Earn credits my own way, while using it as a front for the Order. But now. Now...I just don't know anymore. You expanded my horizons, my hopes and dreams. You who made me more. You who are Sith'ari."

He sighed. Answering. Passionate and determined.

"Now I would install him, but I would not remain. My purpose, my focus has shifted."

He spoke with even more passion.

"I would still seek to create this paramilitary company, using it as a front for the Order but also I seek now to be your fist. Your Warrior of Darkness.Your Sith'ari Dziri. Your Sith'ari Hunter. To bring ruin upon all who would think to defy your rule. To deny you and your power. Those who might question your divine right. And bring ruin to them. When I said I would blaze a pathway through the starways for you. I meant it."

Breathing, he wondered what Azar would think. He was still thumping at the confession. Damn did he want a taste. Those ambers, everything. To feel his divinity and kneel before a Sith god. He said one more thing.

"I am curious about one thing though. Do you still have that coat I gave you, that night on Nar Shaddaa? You sure looked dashing in it. I have a few more like it when we are at the palace. I might be able to find something more your size. I was also have three surprises for you. One in the Palace, another the mountains and a gift. A token of my affection."

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar was entirely aware of Trodai’s flustered reaction to him, but his focus was briefly on the citadel beyond the walls of Dresdhae as they passed it, “If I am lucky, perhaps you will not have to tread upon the blood of my kin to visit the palace,” He said with a hollow laugh. He held little love for his family, but he couldn’t deny who they were. At the end of the day, for better or worse, they built the foundations from which he rose.

He glanced over at Trodai, laughing out loud at the reaction to the nipple piercings. Out in the greater galaxy it was considered perhaps erotic, but it was standard norm in the Kressh circles. Massassi often didn’t indulge so much in the cultural or fine arts, so he wasn’t entirely surprised by the flustered response, “Then perhaps you ought to gaze at my eyes instead,” Azar reminded the other man with a teasing grin. He didn’t object to Trodai holding his hand, though he did find the tender gesture curious.

As he spoke about his mother, Azar’s thoughts lingered back to several things. He kept his gaze over the horizon even as he spoke, “If there is one thing to remember, dear Trodai, it is to evaluate who to allow any kind of governance over your thoughts. If the Red Viper believes you weak, then it is a seed she plants. It is up to you on whether you water and cultivate that seed or whether you let it die and wither,” His mind briefly lingered to Karys, who so easily watered harmful seeds into his mind instead of igniting them. If there was a single thing that could make him consider severing things with the other man, it was that. Azar had long allowed his father’s toxicity to take over his mind and guide his actions. Once Azar slayed the man, he knew he could never go back to that old method of thinking. Some bloomed flowers were worth the pain from the thorns, others were not.

As Trodai spoke of his brother, Azar bristled, “And this brother of yours does not fancy himself the next Sith’ari as well?” He asked as he gave an icy look to Trodai, “Do you expect he would simply welcome my rule or perhaps become a secondary consort?” Azar gave a cruel smirk. He had seen the other man, the figure that was tall and conniving. Azar was not fooled to consider him any less of a threat simply because Mjan had a burrito incident, “Would you slay your brother if I commanded it?”

The idea of a paramilitary sounded appealing, and one Azar had several thoughts on, “Dreshdae has the Golden Scholar Court where I studied the Darkness as Kissai,” He explained, “The College has an ample supply of Force crafters that I wish to seek out to enhance an army, though they are incredibly temperamental. The Massassi from the Kaniset and Vardin would make up the bulk of my forces,” He envisioned this clearly, a determined and proud look to him that manifested even in the way he sat tall and proper, “The remnants of Sadow.. the ones that did not migrate to Ziost as part of the main line.. legends speak of a splinter group that tamed and leveraged terentateks,” He mused, “I should like to validate the old legends myself.”

Trodai committing himself to Azar drew out little more than a calm, yet stern gaze, “The heart can only belong to one, Trodai, and you give yours to multiple,” He said with a smirk, “If you will die for any new being that inspires passion in you, it will be a very short life indeed.”

Azar turned his gaze ahead again, his eyes widening at the sight, “I believe we are here.”

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai waited for a reply patiently and laughing when Azar told him him should perhaps look at his eyes. He was right of course but he couldn't help but look everywhere else when possible. The man was magnificent in his current state. He obeyed willingly however, staring into his eyes. Into that fire. Amber to amber. The eyes of a god.

He saw Azar look.strangely at him when he held his hand and he chuckled.

"I'm sorry did you not like that? I can stop if you want. It is a sign of my affection."

It was after the conversation got more serious. And he stared at Azar, taking each word. His wisdom in. Azar was right again. If his mother perceived him as weak he would need to be rid of her, to let her got away and wither so he could rise. He would not allow her or his father to see him in such a way. She had to die. He just had to work out the how and when.

"I see. Then I shall be more careful and remove this weed who perceives me weak. Show the Red Viper my Strength, let her wither and die. You are everything I hoped, wise and powerful. Godly."

And then the conversation got even more serious. Azar asked about his brother, about Mjan. He saw Azar bristle. It was not a good sign. He knew the answer. They had discussed it recently and Mjan had indeed thought himself a Sith'ari. It didn't bode well for the future. He was compelled to say it, his affection for Azar forcing him to let the truth be known. "I'm afraid he does. Before I met you I thought it too but you proved you are the true Sith'ari. Through your deeds, your power, your passion. Everything. Adas himself would approve, for you to carry the legacy. You may not share the Adas blood but you have his will. His Strength"

He allowed it to sink in. The next question shook him the most. As Azar asked if he would slay his own brother if he had too. If he, as the Sith'ari commanded it. He thought, a silence occurring as he looked into Azar eyes. He saw a icy glare, this was not the Azar he saw before. But the Sith'ari. It was a test for him.

He found that despite his love for his brother, despite their bond and feelings of loss, of pain he might feel if he did it...if he had to kill him for the true Sith'ari. For Azar Kressh. He would do so. So the true Sith'ari, could ascend and he in turn alongside him. He would pay that price. Such was the way of the Sith. To be without Fear. To do what is necessary, without pity or remorse. To remove those who blocked their own rise. Even if it might be their own family.

He answered with conviction.

"As much as it would pain me, and as much as I would feel for the loss of my brother Mjan. Despite our bond. If you Azar Kreshh. You who are my Sith'ari commanded it. I would, without hesitation. For is it not the way of the Sith to remove all who would impede their own ascension. To remove all chains, even it is your own family."

He mused on the temperamental Massassi from the Kaniset and Cardin vassal tribes. He had an idea, perhaps if they found them he could help get them into line. They might be more inclined with one of their own to behave. Especially one as powerful as he was and was becoming.

He hoped those legends were true too. Pondering it, Azar informed him of matters of the heart. He listened carefully. Nodding, he understood what he was trying to say.

"I understand Azar. You have taught me much. My affection for you will remain regardless if my heart finds someone whom I could share it with. I wonder though would you like me if I was not so passionate?" he quipped, winking at Azar before laughing. And then he saw it just as Azar spoke.

The City of Ur.

Ahead lay the city gates with the flags of all the large Houses adorned, their insignia. And many Massassi warriors lined the path up to the entrance, and the heavily guarded walls. Trodai wondered what Azar thought of it, he didn't know if he had been here before. Or even heard of it's splendour from others.

Inside was the main city street which Trodai elected to show Azar on foot, the Grotthu trailing behind in dozen long luggage caravan behind them. Several carts were moved from the side to allow them through, they had been given a escort to take them to the Palace.

8 Elite Royal Guards wielding lavaroks.

Trodai spoke, as they neared their destination. Looking in the distance was the palace on the horizon.

"Welcome to the City of Ur. My birth city. I hope you like what you see." He said, almost teasingly. Referring to both the city and himself. Soon enough and they were inside the Palace itself, Trodai walked him through the main hall, smiling as he let Aza r look around and speak if he so wished.

The Grotthu took the luggage to a spare room as Trodai led Azar to his room. He figured Azar, his Sith'ari wouldn't mind sharing. Or he hoped so, he wished it so. To make good on what they said on Nar Shadda. To compare and then tussle for who would kneel. So Trodai could receive his punishment for his inadequacy. And use the bed he had spent so many nights alone in. ArouInd were Grotthu servants and Massassi guards. Excited him at the potential prospects, he sent the guards away so they could be alone.

Trodai lead Azar inside and spoke to a Grotthu requesting whatever food Azar desired. He then turned to Azar. The Sith'ari. The God before him, looking very tasty. Looking into his eyes, the amber fires. He spoke and waited to see what Azar would do. Now that they were alone again.

"Welcome to the lodgings for tonight. Feel free to pick whatever food you desire. Local food of course. Fit for a Sith'ari like you. I hope you don't mind sharing." he teased. "I still have a few surprises for tonight, and tomorrow morning. We won't get seen until the afternoon. I want to show you the Palace Gardens. Where I spent some of my youth, I saw how on Umbara you like plants. Before you made me that cat."

He said.

"Perhaps I can show you my claws again." he laughed referring to when Azar made him believe he was a cat. Their first meeting. It seemed so long ago now. He had been just as handsome and divine then he thought, come to think of it. It amused him.

"However now what do you want to do? Now you have me on your own again. If I recall, we discussed something about punishment earlier." he teased. He wanted him right now, especially after in the speeder with the gold and the nipples. They were still staring at him. As was Azar, Trodai looked into his eyes, smiling. Hoping all his wishes on Nar Shadda were fulfilled. Azar willing.

He wanted Lust. Passion. He wanted the diva. He wanted Azar the Sith'ari to make him kneel at his feet. But it would be for him to decide.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

The great pyramid loomed high above, a testament to the strength and resilience of the Adas kin. Azar could have brushed him off as a failed king as his family often did, but to see all this laid out - a city that could perhaps rival even Dreshdae- and he began to realize he had misjudged. Trodai was intent on placing his brother in power to govern all of this? No, it needed to be someone docile, someone that would accept Azar’s rule without question. Trodai would be the one to enforce it.

His gaze panned over the countless Massassi he spotted - large, hulking figures where some easily towered over eight feet tall. Some looked more beastly than man, but even then Azar could admire that they had most of their familial blood uncorrupted. His eyes flicked down the hands of some of the citizens, “They practice the Ritual of the Divine?” He asked curiously. It was an age old practice where two fingers were removed from each hand to adopt the Authentic Pureblood look when a Sith was born with five digits. The custom was more common in high society and royal families, but largely outdated among many of the modern cultures that embraced the human digits. Azar could spot several hands that looked deformed to suggest the ritual was alive here.

He gazed down at his own natural born three fingered hands, feeling a sense of superiority, one he could share with Trodai.

Azar silently appreciated the grand halls and the ornate structures of the palace. His own was similar, though it styled more as a fortress. He was led to the resting chambers and Azar gave a trilling laugh, “A Sith'ari does not share,” He said simply. They could do all manner of things in the bed, but Azar would not fall asleep in it with Trodai. Azar gave a smirk, “Would you like me as much if I weren’t so difficult?” He asked teasingly to repeat the Massassi's earlier question, reaching over to give a light brush of his finger against Trodai’s chin.

“I think I’ll have a bath,” Azar said nonchalantly, waiting to be led to one. As they walked, he thought back to what Trodai said he had in store. Azar hadn’t been pampered like palace royalty in years, so this was exhilarating, “I do have an interest in plants,” He admitted, pleased Trodai was picking up little details about him, “Perhaps I will find something that allows me to create a new potion,” He smiled at Trodai, “Don’t worry, I won’t make you try it.”

They were led to a grand bath with flowing spouts of water, soft harp music played by a multitude of servants and plenty of wine and fruits to snack on, “Ahhh this is what I’ve missed the most,” He said as he gazed at it all, stepping towards the water. Without a second thought, he shrugged off his clothing, letting the silky material unceremoniously drop to the floor. His athletic torso was a work of art, intricate tattoos decorating much of it. There were several blank places where the story was not yet told.

Azar looked over his shoulder, giving a teasing smile to the larger man, “Joining?” He asked before he took slow steps into the water and sank down to his waist. He slid over towards one of the edges, relaxing with the water up to his chest as he snapped his fingers for one of the attendants to pour him a goblet of wine. Clearly, he adjusted rapidly back to the luxury lifestyle he once knew.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai nodded as they walked, holding his hand. Showing his affection. Let them look, he thought. Let them see what a Sith'ari looks like. Let them see his power and Trodai to enforce it. He was beginning the start of a new chapter, one free of his attachment to his brother and other attachments. Removing his weaknesses. Ones he had severed and continue to sever to become what he could become. To be Sith. For to be Sith was to be free of all attachments, and revel in their own power. Their strength.

Azar had yet again done something. Sparked something. Ambition.

Mjan had a chance though. A single chance to save himself, if he would submit. Accept Azar Kreshh as Sith'ari. He just hoped his brother was smart enough to accept it, to not challenge the powerbase of the Sith'ari, or Azar but if he refused he would have no choice. But to act, just as he would against his own mother and father. Perhaps he could send a message with their deaths. A warning. One his brother would understand. Serve or be made an example of.

He could see the cogs moving, Azar was thinking.

"You seemed...distracted. What were you thinking about? Me I hope." He laughed. As they walked to the royal baths, he heard h his Sith'ari speak of the Ritual of the Divine. It brought a smile to his face, he had hoped he would notice that. A tradition kept alive by the Adas. And the city. A sign of reverence for the lost king even now and wanting to emulate those they considered pure.

"The people do. While many cities no longer practice it, up here in the mountains where it is isolated, we have kept it alive. The City of Ur has a long history stretching back millennia. They say it was the former King Adas himself who conceived the city near the end of his reign."

He spoke as they continued to walk. "Before his death. A way to secure his power and be the last holdout should all else fall in his empire. A fortress to protect the traditions of the people and the Sith he imposed, and his rule. It is considered to be the only city never to surrender, never to break even under the Empire. Not for millennia has anyone breached these walls. Or so they say. I don't think even the one people called Darth Raze knew about this place. It is barred to outsiders and only our kind can get enter. Our people's last true refuge, other than the Grotthu we allow. Mostly those caught trying to sneak in. They never get back out."


He was enjoying explaining it, for once entrancing Azar with his impromptu history lesson. He wasn't sure if he was even aware of the existence of the city or it's rich history. He would ask. "My mother forced me to learn the history about age 6, I could never forget since she would fry me if did neglect it. Or my father would beat me senseless. I was made to to repeat it everyday. I guess I can thank her at least for that. Or I would not be able to tell you. Have you ever been here before? Heard this history? I wonder if it is mentioned in the old scrolls or holocrons in the Academy." he laughed.

He wasn't sure.

He spoke again. "Maybe we should bring Cyutadakr or Karys here in the future. Show them what royalty on Korriban live like." he joked. Although he wouldn't mind showing more of their kind the city. It was afterall their people too. He would enjoy showing them the Ritual of the Divine and was certain Azar would too.

He laughed when Azar mentioned he wouldn't test any potions on him. Not like the first time they met. And he as happy Azar seemed to be enjoying himself, making himself right at home like the diva he was. Like he was born for it. Which he was. He was Sith'ari, and he deserved to be treated as such.

And laughed at the reversal of his own comment. Well played Azar he thought as he spoke.

"Touche, Azar. Touche." he chuckled.

And then he heard it. At long last, permission. And his heart thumped loudly, as his mind raced with excitement. The anticipation of the unknown. To finally be with Azar. To learn from the Sith'ari. A lesson he wanted since Nar Shadda. To be truly awoken. To taste him, see that fire in his eyes and he into his.To be with his god. To know Azar Kressh, intimately.

To mingle Adas and the Kreshh.

Although nervous at the moment that approached. It was his first proper time. He considered this the threshold, his way of affirming his loyalty. And so he stripped down too, even as he admired Azar in his full handsome form. He truly was divinity. Standing there, he struck a Superman Pose. In pain.

"Of course, I can't resist a bath with you Azar. With the Sith'ari. I have waited patiently for this moment since I first saw that look in your eye when I uttered that magic word. Sith'ari in your ear. If I remember Nar Shaddaa correctly we were comparing our advantage. What you think? Big enough for you?" he joked showing a well endowed package before joining him. The berries of an Adas. He enjoyed admiring Azar's own endowments.

His full body on display. All his scars, his own story written in blood the blood of his enemies.

He loved those tattoos, and so when he joined him finally, he started touching them, tracing the lines. He spoke as he did, while a goblet of wine was also brought to him. He held it in his other hand as he sat beside Azar in the water. He could practically taste him already. He smelt exquisite. Like a fine rare fruit. Exotic and intoxicating. He wanted to feel that grip around his throat again.

That power.

"I love your tattoos. I hope you don't mind me touching them Sith'ari. But Azar....what do they all mean? Perhaps you might put some on me. Time permitting. I only have one. From my Akoge, my mark of completion. My story is more written in blood, I would like another way to express my story as well." He was genuinely smiling at Azar, he couldn't be more happy. In this moment. With him.

"I am glad to be here, in this moment with you. I hope you feel the same way."

He snuck close, putting the goblet down.

"If I remember you said I better not be too proud to kneel. To answer your question. For you never. I would always kneel, for you are Sith'ari. It would be an honour to kneel before a god. A Sith'ari. My great honour. Or we can just tussle and see who kneels first" he laughed, echoing the same comment he had previously used on Nar Shadda. The same defiance that he knew Azar would like.

"Do you want me to kneel before the Sith'ari? Although I ask you be gentle. I am recovering from a unfortunate injury...to my right leg and some ribs. Broken. Would you believe the Magick failed me twice several weeks back and I fell over a wall as a result." He asked and joked at same time. His leg was still sore. And from the injuries his Master had inflicted for his failings. Lessons learnt. He wanted Azar none the less, to fight through the pain. Wanted to feel that same grip he had felt before around his throat. To feel the power of the Magick as they intwined. To feel his power and just what he could do with his alchemy under such circumstances.

What he could do with the Magick. He wanted Azar to see his Passion. And for both act on their desires.

Spoiler

OOC: Terminology -

Magick = The Force

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar sipped from his golden goblet, pondering how well preserved in history this entire city was. There was no remnant of the horrors of war and the complete devastation of old sites. It was all intact as if the lives of their ancestors never stopped. He was sitting in a bath sipping a goblet exactly as he would have been thousands of years ago.

“Ur was only considered a legend where I grew up in Dreshdae,” Azar explained, “There were two cities. Ur and Murzana. Murzana was said to be the city of gems and they had the might of the Sadow remnants that rode terentatek defending them,” He sipped from his wine, “If Ur exists…then perhaps Murzana does as well.”

Azar’s eyes narrowed as Trodai mentioned bringing the other purebloods here, “My King will come,” He said curtly, not minding the slip that spoke as if he and Karys were wedded already, “But desert trash are not permitted,” He said icily, for Cyutadakyr did not hail from royalty. This city was far too pristine, far too holy to allow the lowly sand tribesmen to ever set their nasty feet within its walls.

He took a moment to admire Trodai as he stood in all his naked glory. Azar only smirked over the rim of his goblet at the Massassi’s question, “It will do,” He said simply with a teasing grin as he took another sip.

Azar let Trodai gently bathe him, allowing the other man to run a cloth over his body and trace the tattoos as much as he pleased. It was both a sense of duty and sensuality admixed into one, all while Azar had his gazed fixed ahead between two large columns beyond which he could see the entire city.

His city.

He was distracted by the question about his tattoos, and he gave a laugh, “Can you not tell?” Azar said, “Take a closer look,” He whispered. Once Trodai did, if he looked for patterns, he would begin to see they were ur-kittat words intricately woven into designs. They were the words of prophecies in the past, and newer tattoos that spoke of vengeance of tomorrow and the unwavering principles of choosing who could govern Azar’s thoughts. Above all, they were the words heralding the ascension of a god, one to succeed where all others had failed.

Azar wrote his own prophecies. He made his own promises. And he would see them fulfilled.

The Pureblood stood up in the water then, wine still in hand. His damp body glistened from the warm rays of the sun that still pierced through the columns. Azar coiled the Force around Trodai’s neck to drop him down to bring him to his knees in the shallow water. He lazily took another sip of wine, “Come, have your first taste of a god, Trodai,” He said simply.

Azar’s yellow, demonic gaze remained fixed over that horizon. It didn’t matter if he felt lips or tongue over the most sensitive parts of him. It didn’t matter if Trodai gave it his all. It didn’t matter even if he felt unbridled pleasure, exquisite passion, or any of that. Through it all, his eyes remained on the city of Ur. On the far corners of every building, every citadel, every temple, every street that was destined to be his.

Through that sensual journey, he could feel the heat course through his body both from the physical fire and also the visions of grandeur. Azar drank from his wine, his other hand mercilessly clutching the back of Trodai’s head, “This is the quietest you have ever been,” He said with a dark chuckle, “Perhaps I will have you do this more often.”

And still his gaze never budged from that horizon. His eyes on the sight as far as he could see - the limits of Ur and far beyond.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai listened carefully even as he helped bathe Azar. His god. The Sith'ari. Hanging on every word and learning more of he history of the Purebloods. He was fascinated, he too wondered if the old legends were true. For he had heard about the other lost city. Twinned to Ur. Murzana, City Of Gems.

He thought it had been a fable, but after everything that had happened. He wasn't so sure. Anything was possible.

As he heard Azar speak of allowing his King, Karys to come to the City of Ur the City of Kings at some point he was happy. And then he saw that same icy glare at the mention of Cyutadarkr being allowed admittance. The denial of her and her kin. He was disappointed but understood. The City of Ur was a special place. Holy. A meccah. It needed to be preserved and all within for the generations of Purebloods and Sith to come.

He was calm but nervous at the same time standing there, in all his princely glory. A gift for Azar. The Sith'ari. A fruit to feast upon. In exchange for true power of his own. Now he saw what was possible when he removed his chains. Finally accepting his own lineage and the Sith he was destined to be. Now his ambitions had grown and his lust for the same power Azar had shown him.

The Strength and Passion.

Although he had no love for politics or leadership, he saw now it was needed. His brother was weakened by his time away. He needed correcting. For was he not a brother if not to guide him? Just as he had been Trodai guide. House Adas needed him, his people needed him. The Sith'ari needed him. He would become that which he had denied. A leader. A general. A Military Advisor. A close consort to the Sith'ari. To Azar Kreshh. With Caerllion his Master to guide him and Azar he would become a power to be reckoned with.

He laughed at Azar's teasing, replying in kind. "Oh really? It will do? Is that all I get? Perhaps if the Sith'ari permits it I will show him exactly what it will do" he teased and quipped. That little defiance that Azar loved of him. As he bathed Azar and he answered his questions about his tattoos, Trodai looked closer as instructed. There he saw true power and strength written into his skin.

Tattoos that were patterns, in ur-kittat words intricately woven into designs. Which Trodai loved. To read and explore at the same time. He could see the words of prophecies in the past, and newer tattoos that spoke of vengeance of tomorrow and the unwavering principles of choosing who could govern Azar’s thoughts. He could see it all. Feel it all. Taste it all. Words of Power.

Words that heralded his ascension as a god. The one to succeed where all others had failed. The Sith'ari. It reminded him of a story...a legend. A prophecy he was once told.

And so he spoke, as he bathed Azar, his Sith god.

"I can see the patterns, and I am awed. Inspired. Just as your words inspire me. I am sorry if I ramble...but something did occur to me"

THEME

He breathed, smelling in Azar as he spoke.

"You are right about my brother. He is unworthy of the City or the Adas name. At least as he is. I may not desire to lead or meddle in politics. But I believe it now necessary. I accept my lineage, and would take the House Adas from his unworthy hands. To enforce your will." He continued bathing Azar. The Sith'ari. Who seemed to be enjoying every moment and the comforts he had been provided.

Treated like the god he was.

Good, Trodai thought. He deserved it all. To be treated like royalty and not some mysterious Potionmaster. Although he was that. But he was also so much more. Trodai was gentle, caressing his skin. The muscular contours of a god. Toned and refined, like marble glistening at him. Gleaming red and black from the tattoos adorning his body.

"You know, I remember a old story I was told, again when I was young. By my father. A old legend really. Would you like to hear it Sith'ari?" He hoped he wouldn't object as he bathed Azar. He spoke "It spoke of a Pureblood, exiled like yourself. They wandered the galaxy seeking to reclaim their lost name. Until one day they met others of their kind. Among them they found one who would claim their heart, the second their enemy and the third Pureblood, to speak of what they might become. Reminding them of their destiny. Heralding their ascension and the uniting of the clans. Proclaiming them Sith'ari and igniting their passion."

Trodai remembered it well, it was always his favourite.

"Their heart became their King, and the herald, their consort. A general. The harbinger of the Sith'ari and doom should they not submit to his rule. It was my favourite tale." He wondered what Azar would think of it, if he liked this tale he told.

And then he saw Azar rise. Wine in hand, godly and divine.

As the sun shone upon his flesh, Trodai looked upon him, he was magnificent. And the package was not too bad either he admitted. He couldn't help but admire a moment. And then he heard his voice, felt his strength. As the Magick wrapped his throat like a puppet on a string. Forcing him to his knees, into submission.

Punishment. And he wanted it, had been craving it. Ever since Nar Shadda, and now here he was about to get his wish. A taste of a god. Of Azar Kreshh. Of a Sith'ari. Although nervous, at first he soon hit his stride. As Azar stared out to the city, Trodai delivered the Passion Azar knew him capable of. Desire, lust, strength. Everything. Showing the Sith'ari how much he desired him at this moment.

As he was inducted, shown by a true master of his craft.

He heard him speak, while Azar was clutching his hair roughly. He enjoyed it. All the feelings and emotions. The sensations. Trodai hands and lips were occupied so he replied Telepathically. Still a bit nervous, but trying to satisfy Azar. Happy of his approval.

"Perhaps so Azar. Sith'ari. You taste divine."

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

He contemplated that story as he drank, considering who had his heart, and who would become his consort. He envisioned many consorts and concubines, many avenues of continuing his bloodline. Especially to keep the three fingers intact. But Trodai would have his role to play, Azar knew of it, one that went far beyond just servicing him like this. Azar closed his eyes, exhaling a shuddered gasp as pleasure coursed through him.

It was then that Azar finally gazed down at Trodai, watching the submissive way the kin of Adas knelt before him in such a compromising position. There was something exquisite about the display, and it reminded Azar of where he began and where he still had yet to go. He drew back then, pushing Trodai over to sit down on the ledge in the water. There was much wine, many oils, many things to enhance the experience and Azar would have his fun.

Eventually Azar faced Trodai, planting his hands on his shoulders as he sank down into the water into his lap, fire burning in his gaze, “I will take each city,” Azar said, his fingers digging into Trodai’s shoulders, “I will make them all kneel,” He said as a half gasp, “And they will know who is Sith’ari not just across Korriban…but Ziost and Dromund Kaas as well,” Azar said as he gave that same cruel smile. His body moved with grace and he would take his time enjoying Trodai.

Their activities continued for quite some time until Azar finally stepped out of the bath. Handmaidens dressed him in silken robes and he found another goblet in his hand, “What would you need to do in order to secure your rule here?” Azar asked as he looked at Trodai.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai continued what he considered to be a duty. Seeing to Azar's every desire And whim, his Sith'ari. Even as he pondered what !might lay next for him. And how he might deal with the other clans and houses. To gain support that they would aid his own ascension and Azar's. It would be difficult, it would need to be a unanimous decision.

But he was certain there were ways in which some could be persuaded.

He enjoyed the taste of Azar as he gasped, feeling his taste. And as Azar moved and looked down, he looked up. Fire meeting fire.

Amber to amber. Passion meeting Strength and Power.

The god that was Azar Kreshh, was divine. In every way, even in taste. He was loving every moment, and hoped Azar was too. Finally he was spending time with the man who set him free. And showing his appreciation. He enjoyed the sensations and feelings as Azar became more forceful, pushing Trodai into the ledge at the waters side, forcing him to sit down. Despite the pain, he loved it.

The sheer strength, power and will of a god. His god. The Sith'ari. And such intricate tattoos that spoke to him. Someone to aspire to. He noted the wine, oils and other assortments that make the experience more enjoyable for them both. Sensual and divine for the divine. As Azar planted himself, using Trodai broad shoulders for support, and be felt like the royalty he was. As nobility met the godly. As he finally felt and tasted of Azar. He felt himself as close to the heavens as possible, his mind enthralled by what he was saying.

As he spoke of his plans for not just Korriban but Ziost and Dromund Kaas. Trodai couldn't help but smile, his teeth on show. The sharp points that had tasted of Azar. And now felt him. The Sith'ari. Azar Kreshh. He wondered, did Azar have ambitions beyond the Houses? For the galaxy? He did wonder but didn't ask it. If Azar chose to reveal more it was up to him. As a god it was his right.

He also gasped between speaking "And I would love to help. All will know you as Sith'ari or else crumble beneath your feet" returning his own smirk.

They entwined and felt each for what seemed like a few hours. But to Trodai it felt like a lifetime. Oil was used, the water was used. The room was, as the Magick entwined between them during the session. Connecting them in ways mere humans could not fathom. Or those not sensitive to the Magick. This was Passion, Strength, Power and Desire fuelled by the otherworldly.

They were Sith. Sith'ari and Royalty. Adas and Kreshh.

As Azar finished, Trodai was relaxing in the pool after their fun. He had thoroughly enjoyed every moment. Azar truly was a master of his craft. And Trodai had learnt. And shown his own strengths. Stepping out with Azar, Trodai was also cloves into silken robes and picked up a goblet.

Listening he considered the words closely. Even as he stood next Azar. His Sith'ari. After enjoying the time with him, but he knew he had more in store. So many sights and sounds to show. But so little time.

"I would need the support of the other Major Houses and their vassals. And some of the minor ones, those with most influence. To earn or persuade them to trust in my judgement and yours. To accept me to lead. And you as our Sith'ari. And reject my brother. We could call for a meeting of the Houses, when you are no longer a exile and your claim is secure. A Council of Fire. To do just that. Each are different and would need different approaches, it would be a fairly long process. We would need to find out what they want and if anything can be used against them to persuade them if they refuse."

He thought about it, it was true. They were stubborn, and each had their own ideas about what it took to run the planet and the cities. Who was better. And that was without the ancient rivalries. Each vying for power.

"We would also need the backing of the army, officers and royal guard. To help enforce my and your own rule. It is not large at the moment, but I'm sure in time we could swell their rank. The commander and I go way back, we trained together during my Akoge. He is a ally. Aloysius Abon iv-Graush. He has no love for his own father, Asmenys-Svjone Abon iv-Graush who would object to what is in motion and wishes to change things. So that shouldn't be too difficult."

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

As Trodai spoke, Azar took his time getting ready, having the handmaidens bring him new silken clothing and bangles. He lined his eyes with kohl, making his vibrant gaze pop even more. He would be an epitome of beauty, his hair neatly done before a headdress was placed atop his head. Azar’s ears had golden earrings, and he placed a golden stud in his nose, fully embracing the cosmetic luxuries he had in his life before.

“This Outsider clan that keeps posing a problem for Ur that the maids keep whispering about..,” Azar said as he admired himself in the large, jewel trimmed mirror, “.. Tell me about them. Destroying them may be the ticket to reclaiming my name,” Azar said, “Why has Ur not erased them already?” He asked curiously.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

As Trodai was also dressed he answered in kind, thinking the same thing. But then he recalled they had tried..But they had been using unusual and unorthodox tactics, and the catacombs to move around various places. Adopting outsider use of blasters and riding beasts like the desert tribesmen. And their leader was of a different breed. A warrior chief in their own right.

Trodai considered it would be a challenge to find them and put and to the threat.

"Ah yes, the reason I asked for your help Sith'ari. They are smart..elusive. Like nothing Ur has ever faced before. Their tactics are new and unorthodox, they combine the use of outsider weapons, blasters and the like with that of riding beasts and the Magick. Lightning fast raids, hit and run tactics. And using our own catacombs below the streets against us, it is a maze. I believe something similar lies beneath Dreshdae if I recall."

He continued talking as the maids adjusted his armour.

"The army is not used to dealing with these types of attack, although I have a idea to change that once in power. The one leading them I recall is called Veris. Veris Ragnos iv-Marzeti. A outcast from his father and mother, whom he killed and took over the tribe building it into what it is. He is mostly of impure blood. He has been making them a cult...speaking blasphemous words against the Code I hear. Heresy. At least that's what the deserters say and those we 'persuade ' to talk."

Looking in a mirror, he pressed his nose, felt his own face. And considered, it was time to look the part he intended to be. To take up certain traditions. And so he spoke candidly.

"Sith'ari. Azar. If I may, I would ask of something...I wish to change how I look. To take up the traditional wears upon my face and ears. The nose jewellery. I was wondering if you could help me with it, to look the part. If you are willing. I have denied who I am for too long."

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar listened to the explanation, his eyes narrowing at the name, “Ragnos..” He repeated. The noble house’s fortress was only a few blocks away from the Kressh citadel back in Dreshdae. Doubtless the royal line was fed up with the antics of this Veris. The pureblood considered the factors for a long moment, “Take me to the catacombs,” He said simply. As a Sith Master, Azar was far more accomplished with the Force than most in the city and surrounding areas. With Force Sight, he would be able to outline entry and exit points.

“We will construct blocks at the entrances and exits,” He explained, “Veris will have a target in mind. We make this target appear vulnerable, but post sentries all throughout the palace to encourage him and his people to use deceptive routes like the catacombs. In order to make the target vulnerable, we plant false intel on a dead man for them to find in the desert. Once they are inside, we block the exits and trap them into a long channel,” Azar gave a cruel smile, “I have plans on what happens in this corridor. I require an alchemy hall and smoke bombs.”

The gears were turning and the cold and calculating Azar was in his element. He glanced over when Trodai made his request. Azar flashed him a smirk, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck, “I will pierce you in all the ways you desire, my soldier,” He said with a teasing chuckle before stepping away. There was time for play and cosmetics, but for now he was entirely focused on preparations for this attack.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

As the final pieces were adjusted, Trodai smiled, a evil, devilish smirk upon his lips. Thinking back on everything, all that had transpired over the last few months and weeks. He began to think...it was a series of tests. A way to ensure he was ready and prepared for what was to come. To face his fears and confront his lineage. Who he was and accept it.

He heard Azar speak the name of Ragnos, his eyes narrowing. He was thinking again. He wondered what he was thinking, what cogs were turning. And then he spoke mentioning the catacombs and wanting to see them. He had hoped that, it was another place he wished to show anyways. A place he escaped and found solitude.

He loved the idea. Lure them in and trap them in the narrow hallways and corridors. Bottle-necked and at their mercy. He grinned at the mention of the alchemy hall and smoke bombs. Smoke bombs would be easy to secure from the armoury, and the great alchemy hall he knew Azar would love. Especially with the additional help there, students and the Grotthu to assist him as needed.

With little choice about it. He enjoyed it as Azar gripped his neck with but hands, letting him know that he would add the jewellery and more. He was to become the soldier he knew he was. And moulded by his Master, Caerllion and Azar into a Sith Warlord. Something not seen for centuries upon the planet.

He spoke of his insight.

"I thank you Azar. In time this soldier will bring the Wrath and Rage of the Sith'ari upon all who would stand in the way. And this planet will see the rise of a sight not seen in centuries. For in me I see now...a Sith Warlord in the making to follow your command. Such is my ambition that you have ignited."

He spoke, making a motion to follow. Hoping he might chose to hold a arm or something on the way.

"Smoke bombs should be easy to secure from the armoury. I will take you to the catacombs myself, I used to go down there to hide and think sometimes."

With that he walked the halls, many as they were, followed by a small entourage who saw to their whims.

Eventually they came upon the catacombs palace door. Leading him inside, Trodai took a burning torch. Azar was lead down a long hallway and into a larger chamber that lead off multiple directions. He followed as Azar seemed to be looking about. Once he was certain he had seen enough , or hoped so...Trodai led him back and took him to the alchemy hall. The entourage coming with them.

Eventually there and knocking upon the enchanted door, a strange looking, female Kissai with one eye came out. Obviously from a failed experiment at one point. Trodai spoke.

"Ah, Kyssiri. Meet Azar Kreshh, the Sith'ari. And soon to be your liege, bowing would be a good start. As would opening the door."

She narrowed her eyes at the suggestion of him being the Sith'ari at first until she saw into his eyes. And bowed before opening the door. Trodai spoke up as they entered. He showed him the central column connected to the Dark Nexus below the catacombs and the city before taking him to the main alchemy hall in all it's spender and filled with everything a alchemist could desire or dream of.

"This is Kyssiri Mul iv-Adas. A distant relative. She runs the alchemy hall, whatever you need she will see you have it. Vials, lab rats, assistants, books, scrolls, Grotthu. No matter what it is. What you think Azar? Sith'ari? Does it suit your needs?" he smiled, hoping he was impressed.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

As they descended to the catacombs, Azar took note of every detail. The larger chamber served as an intersection point between multiple corridors, and it was here that he took a moment to channel the Force. The Pureblood closed his eyes, opening them only in the plane of the Force to gaze into another realm. Shapes began to manifest before him, along with passages and paths not visible to the naked eye. The effort was draining, but as a Master, his reserves were greater.

As he saw through this plane, he sketched out the designs on parchment, indicating where traps or blocks needed to be placed. After his job here was done, he handed the design over to Trodai to guide on preparations.

The journey towards the lab was filled with fascination as Azar admired all the architecture and well preserved designs that survived for millennia. Dreshdae had been almost entirely destroyed, so only fragments of ruins had remained. Ur was almost entirely preserved to where he could feel the presence of the ancestral spirits in every corridor. Every corner of this city was sacred, and it was exactly why under Azar’s rule, no commoner would set foot within the walls.

The pulse of the dark nexus as he passed the central column was palpable. He would draw from it to power his experiments and he could feel it surge through him already.

Azar’s eyes widened, his jaw growing slack, as he took in sight of the alchemy lab. This could almost rival the Kissai alchemy lab at the Golden Scholar Court where he studied.

“It’s..perfect,” Azar whispered, emotion spilling into his voice. There was passion and elation all mixed into one as he gazed at all the resources at his fingertips. The fact that he would have assistants only further excited him.

“Make preparations in the catacombs,” Azar told Trodai, “And arrange for the body with the false intel to be found. Perhaps a note suggesting your mother is to discreetly move to the next city over?” He would leave the details for Trodai to iron out.

“Come, Kyssiri,” Azar said, “We have work to do,” He smiled as he approached a desk.

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai observed and waited as Azar looked upon the architecture and the alchemy lab soon after. He sometimes came to the Nexus to commune with the Darkness, especially recently when his troubles started. But since Azar and his Master he hadn't needed it as much.

He saw Azar's eyes light up, gleamimg like amber fire, as he looked in awe at the sights and sounds before him. His jaw was wide open, the first time Trodai had really seen this side of him. It amused Trodai that he had caused such a reaction to something like this. Caused his Sith'ari to expose himself a little more. He liked seeing the emotions. And then it was all business as usual.

He knew there was a time to play and a time to be serious. This was the time for a serious nature. For the Warrior to come out.

Trodai gave a nod, more of a bow, and departed. But not before blowing something of a kiss. Although it was not to say he wasn't a llttle disappointed to be separated from Azar. He was just getting used to being around him and his quirky ways. As he went off, he thought about the plan involving his mother. It made sense. Moving through the corridors, Trodai was soon talking to those he had too.

Hordes of Grotthu were enlisted to the catacombs, hauling large stones and all that would be needed to block the entrances and exits. The palace came alive with activity. A body was soon arranged, the note added. A recent death, fresh. Some Massassi guards left the city, and dumped it in the desert. The bait set.

Trodai was remorseless and un-merciful towards the Grotthu. Any slackers and any that dropped a single rock were beaten or outright killed and replaced. He wanted no mistakes, not when the Sith'ari had given him this task. Not when Azar had. He had made enough mistakes.

He became laser focused, and after the preparations were made headed straight to the armoury. It was time to grab the smoke bombs. Opening the large door he entered into the palace armoury and attempted to locate the smoke bombs.

Spoiler

OOC: Action Taken - Attempt to locate smoke bombs in the armoury

Rolled D20: 14

Trodai searched for a while until he found what was needed. Getting several Grotthu to carefully pick them all up in several boxes, he led them back the catacombs and made further preparations. It was only then he went back to Azar. To the Sith'ari. There he sawhim, busy moving around. Ordering Kyssiri and the Grotthu about. The admired a Potionmaster at his craft. Approaching, with a bow he spoke. Careful not to interrupt.

"Everything is ready below Sith'ari. And the body had been dumped as requested, shouldn't be too long until they come. Once word spreads of a opportunity like that. So...what is it you had in mind? What are you making? You seem to be enjoying yourself." he inquired, inquisitively with a smile.

He was very interested, not just for what he had in mind. But the alchemy itself. A skill that alluded him.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar worked tirelessly for hours that bled into a day, and then two. He worked around the clock, but he was unfazed by it all. He was entirely in his zone, not allowing any interruptions. If Trodai attempted to visit, Kyssiri headed him off a few times. Azar drew from the nexus, putting his assistants to work on outlining chemical formulas while others wrote out passages from old texts. It was exactly where he wanted to be and he could work like this for days. Several grotthu were unceremoniously littered on the ground from his experiments, the others carted away and thrown.

When Trodai visited, Azar had a sinister grin on his face, “A plague of sorts,” He said, “Ur holds legends of being a direct line to the old gods. I have created something that will release with the smoke bombs. Upon inhalation the hemorrhagic and hysteria symptoms will be similar to the punishments written into old scripture,” Azar explained, “Ragnos and his clan are religious extremists. His followers will see this as an act of their ancestors. Their people will die and morale will be all but non-existent. Doubt will begin to manifest as Ragnos’ followers question him since his actions would have brought plague upon those that struck at Ur.”

The devious smile only widened, “During the disarray and chaos is when we mount our offense to eliminate them,” He paused, “Or better yet…get Ragnos’ top generals to execute him themselves.”

@Akheron

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

While Azar worked, Trodai couldn't help but now and again try and sneak a peak. Only for Kyssiri to snarl and hiss at him and tell him that Azar was still busy. It didn't stop him from trying though, he was always curious. To keep himself busy while he worked, Trodai instead took to seeing if he could find some type of gift Azar Kreshh, the City's would value and appreciate. A sign of affection and to show him how much he had done. Besides his more intimate other ways of showing it.

Knowing he was a man of alchemy, he attempted to scour the market stalls, vendors legal or not and various outlets for any alchemy bolks. Finding none, he decided another approach. And so he was back at the palace, scouring the palace library for something special. He remembered a old book, left high on the shelves that always gave him a strange feeling. The Darkness was strong upon it. Going up the ladder he eventually found it.

Finding the large lock up in it. And he held the key.

Trodai noted the latest Grotthu being carted away. There w was beginning to be whispers and colours about what was going on. With Grotthu maids talking about a mysterious alchemist and Potionmaster taking Grotthu and for them not to return. Some started to call him the 'Golden Death' for the jewellery wore. Trodai chuckled a bit. He knew exactly who was responsible.

Finally Azar allowed him inside. He had missed him. Not being able to see him for two days was almost torturous.

Once inside he was overjoyed to see him. He loved the idea, knowing the Ragnos as well for their religious extremism. He thought about it, the plan was sound. It definitely sounded better tog at his generals to turn on him. And with the plague and a few words in combination, he was certain it could be done.

"I like it" he said smiling "And these generals during their moment of weakness will be more inclined to listen and be persuaded. I missed you, you know. How was Kyssiri? Didn't blow up anything did she?" he joked, referring to a past incident involving testing a experiment and raining lizards everywhere, annoying his mother and father to no end.

She glared over and spoke "That was one time!"

"I brought a gift while I waited. Took me a while to find it actually...had to search the old library. I could take you there if we find the time." he smiled "It's bigger than here and full of old books on all sorts. This book is old, been here for years. Mother and father never went near it. Said it was ancient, older than them. Some kind of alchemy book from what little I know."

He took out and showed Azar, his Sith'ari the rare alchemy book. Handing it over, he wasn't letting any Grotthu touch it. If Azar were to open it he would find the who's pages when touched were almost ethereal, connected to the Darkness in ways only a master alchemist would know of. And know the books true worth.

A gift worthy of a deity. A Sith'ari. Of a Sith.

"I hope you like it. And I hope your not too busy today, I thought I might finally take you to the Gardens and then I have a special surprise." he said in anticipation. Hoping he approved and now he was done had time to spend with him. To explore the city a bit perhaps. And finally show him the gardens, hot springs and colosseum. Maybe even the market to finally get the nose jewellery and ear rings he had asked about. And style himself a bit.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar’s mind was still on the plan of execution when Trodai mentioned missing him. The sentiment drew out a smile, but truthfully Azar was wholly consumed by his alchemy work. He took a moment to toss the lab gloves and deep clean his hands. He was working with dangerous residue and he wouldn’t risk contamination.

He regarded the gift Trodai brought him, his eyes widening at the sight. He slowly reached over to open it, rifling through the pages. He could almost hear the whispers of the ancestors as he read the words, “Yes, I would like to see this library,” Azar said as he gazed at the book, “The library that was thought to be lost,” He could only imagine the kinds of books that lined those walls, “Thank you for this gift, Trodai, I will treasure this,” Azar said genuinely.

As Trodai began speaking of taking him to the gardens, Azar had a smirk on his lips. He set the book aside for now, hopping up to sit on the edge of the alchemy table. He grasped Trodai by the wrist and tugged him close, wrapping his legs around the soldier’s hips, “How about you just take me here?” Azar asked with a sultry tone.

He didn’t care what Kyssiri and the other assistants did then. They could scatter or stay and watch. A Sith’ari did as he pleased. Wherever he pleased.

---​

Much later later, and after a new change of clothes, Azar was prepared to see these gardens and the city. He had only seen the markets and the city proper in passing, so he was excited to try it all out. The cuisine at the palace was good, but he knew the street stalls often had the tastiest flavors. Tomorrow would be the day of the attack, which left tonight to enjoy before the storm.

@Akheron