Open Dromund Kaas Imperial Ball: Nights Indulgence

[Saragnayan]

Something shifted in her student's demeanor, and Hrist was met with the same softness she'd seen from him before – except now it was much softer, it made her feel somewhat wary. From what she'd learned soft people tended to cause more harm than those who weren't, and a flash of confusion and caution glinted in her eyes.

The smile on her face was replaced with cautious curiosity, head tilting slightly to the side as her gaze never left Xeno's. Emotions she could not name surrounding him, a flash of warm colors swirling around his head like some sort of a halo. It was hard to look at – and when the yellows of his eyes melted away to give way to natural blues, Hrist's brows furrowed lightly with mounting curiosity.

The Marauder let him take the lead – she'd given him the order, after all. She felt him pull her close and she allowed him, moving willingly but still just as wary.

A confession? Did he do something behind her back? When she wasn't watching? Something that might incur her annoyance or ire, perhaps? While she could just rip the confession off his head with the use of the Force Hrist decided to be patient with Xeno and let him set his own pace. She could feel that this was of utter importance to him, but his hand suddenly coming to cup her cheek nearly had her pulling away.

Hrist disliked having her face touched, with the exception of her Father. But she would not scold Xeno for it. She'd neglected to tell him about it, anyway. Now that she was thinking about it, her dear student hadn't met her Father yet. Maybe she should take him to Naboo one of these days, show Father her contributions to the Sith–

The Marauder fought the urge to lash out, to slash at Xeno's face with her nails when he leaned in close. She knew that it was the Acolyte leaning down towards her but somehow another face overlapped with his. A man in a lab coat, glaring down at her with visceral disappointment and Hrist was back to bring that scared little girl again, before she met Father, back to the first few days she found herself becoming one of the subjects for the Cadre Project–

The thread snapped.

A slender hand shot up to curl delicate fingers on Xeno's jaw, nails digging painfully against his skin. The Acolyte would be treated to the sight of a wide-eyed Hrist, her face pale and gaze unseeing despite locking gazes with him. One look was all it would take for Xeno to realize that his Master's mind suddenly wasn't present with him any longer. Her free hand was clutching the front of his suit in a death grip.

"Don't get too close," she hissed at the vision coldly through gritted teeth. "I will gouge your eyes out and feed it to your fellow Cadre Masters."

@Scoobert

 

[Darth Stolas]

The deck seemed suitably private for their purposes, the doors closed behind the two Sith. A pair of the cultists stood guard for what that was worth. It would do.

Morgan gave Malicia the time to process and come up with her answer. He spent the silence considering things himself and looking out over the city with that focused gaze of his, frown still firmly in place for reasons only he really knew or understood.

Then the silver-haired woman spoke at last. Her mask wavered to reveal glimpses of what lay beneath. The simmering rage from Malicia was distinctly felt and after a moment goldens turned to regard her from the side. Whatever new information had been found was obviously worsening the sore spot that was the Cadre. He'd seen a similar reaction before and his reaction hadn't been precisely calm at the time either, if rather focused.

A pause, then an elaboration and the actual answer to Morgan's initial question about the Eternal. His eyes narrowed and his frown deepened, the hands clasped before him tightening around each other. Another moment and the expression shifted as she continue to speak, a brow raising, and before he could reply a datapad was flung in his direction. His hand came up to catch it, eyes turning to the screen after a second. The pink drink was placed on a rail.

There was a visible shift in his demeanor, the silver of his skin intensifying a shade and his eyes suddenly sharpening as he read the offered information. The Eternal not only was likely the originator of the Cadre project itself but also may be have been targeting remaining Drast bloodlines. One of which, apparently, Malicia was a part of.

For a moment there was a rumbling growl through the air as Stolas tensed, but it disappeared again as quickly as it'd come. He lowered the datapad and shifted his gaze back to Malicia, bright golden eyes focused directly on her. Perhaps she had a gift for him after all.

"I see," he said with a forced evenness. "This changes things."

Stolas turned on his heels and stepped back through the doors from the balcony, passing the cultists on his way. Idly he noted a Sith he'd greeted earlier making his way out but paid no direct mind for the moment.

His cloak swished as he walked from the doors to head back into the main area of the ball with the datapad in hand, walking by the gathered dancers and minglers with his attendant rejoining him. There were a great many of the Sith here in the crowd from agents to Lords, as Morgan had noted earlier upon his arrival.

Darth Stolas stopped and turned back around to find Malicia again. His expression was back to that polite smile that didn't quite reach eyes that burned like fire. His attendant was handed the datapad.

"Darth Malicia," he spoke loudly, putting vocal skills to good use to project his voice across the ball and gather the attention of the entire party.

"I am disappointed." Morgan tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, as if to find a new angle from which to regard her appearance. His hands settled casually by his waist.

"You host such an event with you at its center in complete disregard for the Eternal to the degree the Dark Lord was not even invited. I wondered if it was naive foolishness. Now that you have told me you intend for the Eternal to feel threatened by you, to be snuffed out, I know it is far more dire."

Morgan straightened fully, smile curling further to reveal glinting razor fangs, chin raised and face angled, sharp gaze burning into Malicia in the same way it had in his office on Eriadu. It was all intensely focused and predatory, the expression of a Drast facing down a rival.

She had all but declared her open defiance of the Eternal for all the see, and done so while heavily pregnant, Raze was blinded and elsewhere, and other various happenings were going on across the galaxy. Morgan would not accept this foolishness nor the potential threat it brought to his Emryc in the process. It was all the final straw on top of the political arrangement itself.

"Darth Malicia! I, Darth Stolas, a Lord of the Sith, before these many witnesses of the Sith Eternal..."

THEME​

With a pull to undo the band that held his elaborate cloak closed, the garments falling free and cast aside. Immediately revealed was the close-fit crimson tunic and wide-legged black pants he wore under the armour of Darth Stolas, along with his utility belt and associated lightsabers.

"Declare Arauk'kesh! For both your position and holdings. As I said, I must correct your misunderstanding. An openly defiant, traitorous cult leader and her mindless followers should not have free reign over Old Sith space nor sit upon the Eternal's council. You are unfit one way or another."

Stolas paused and stared down the target of his very public challenge. Perhaps if he had done this in his private office Malicia would still have simply left in a sour mood, but here in her own palace amidst the members of the Sith Eternal? She had no real choice but to respond one way or another.

"Accept this challenge, either now or after your condition passes, or surrender before it. Choose." Morgan head tilted very slightly, fanged smile never wavering. "Terms for either may be determined."

@Dread @Eccles @Valen Pelora @Scoobert @Logan @Stratus @Wit @Phoenix @Morse @Isen @Forsythe Crowholde @Nefieslab @Braden Drake @Mockingjay @Tulos

 

[Nicolae Locke]

"Your family owns a wine shop?" asked Nicolae, intriguingly perplexed. Did Sith really own such things? The image it conjured was both interesting and laughably bizarre. Enough so that Nicolae was almsot tempted to ask more about it, before settling on, "How quaint."

A disarming smile. A discreet sip of some burning liquid he'd snatched from a tray on their way to the sidelines. And, then, the inevitable question. What is your name? Nicolae always bristled at this question. His first name was a point of pride. Nicolae was a name reserved for connoisseurs and men of great stature on Serenno. His surname, on the other, was a source of constant shame. A reminder of what he came from, what he had tried so hard to escape.

"My name is Nicole—"

A voice broke his train of thought. A powerful voice, and he turned to see the equally powerful man from whom it issued. Darth Stolas. He had heard of this Sith. He had never seen him before, except for in holos. And yet, as the man spoke, he got the gist of who the Lord was. And then the challenge was issued.

Nicolae's hand went up, quenching whatever conversation he and the stranger (@Braden Drake) might have had. He was utterly captivated by what he was about to witness. And once the charges were levied against Darth Malicia, he could not help but slide his gaze across to her and raise a brow. What would she do? Surely, she had to fight. Only a coward would surrender, thought that might make things a bit more amusing.

I wonder, he thought, and was suddenly glad he had convinced himself to come to this party after all. These gatherings really do have their uses.

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

Things between Aadya and Charlotte were progressing exactly as the young acolyte had hoped. Her frustration with Stolas was entirely abated, washed away by the feelings of lust that poured over her in waves as her kiss was returned with enthusiasm equal to how it was given.

Charlotte running her fingers through Aadya's hair made color rise in her cheeks. It had been a very long time since someone had made her feel such a rush. Just as the thought entered Aadya's mind of pulling Charlotte into somewhere more private and ripping what little dress that remained off her body, her moment of sublimity was shattered by the resounding voice of Darth Stolas.

Listening to his declaration, Aadya's lips split into an excited smile, her own set of razor fangs catching a glint of light and shining like a knife's edge, showcasing the two's shared species.

I think we may have to pause, Aadya said to Charlotte, her mind already pulled from the reverie the two had created. But do not go far.

Turning to face Stolas, Aadya took in his visage with admiration. He was a magnificent Sith, even more so than when we wore his ridiculous armor that covered him up. Aadya hoped, even though she knew it was fruitless, that she would only see Stolas like this: standing tall, righteous and purposeful - like a god addressing mere mortals that dare showcase how pitiful and beneath him they actually were.

Imagine this coward thinking she could threaten the Eternal. Aadya said quietly, though those within earshot would still be able to hear her. It may have been uncouth to speak after such an address, but it wasn't Aadya's way to remain quiet. If any of the indoctrinated subservients Malicia called her cult wished to take umbrage with her words, Aadya's lightsaber would find their throats.

What a fool.

 

[Renfry]

Renfry didn't know what kind of tension was brewing between Morgan and Malicia, but they disappeared for several minutes, and she took the opportunity to gather herself another drink.

When they reemerged several minutes later, she was certainly not expecting... this. Morgan started speaking in a tone that was pointedly loud, though it took a few moments before the full message actually settled in.

Her gut dropped as she listened, for several reasons. One of those reasons were some of her own conversations with Morgan in the past, but more than that, she knew what an Arauk'kesh meant. During their early days together, Emryc had thoroughly explained to her about the honor duel between Andraste and the old Sith King that founded the Order.

She knew that one of her two friends wouldn't be walking away from the duel. She paused a moment, gaze darting between the pair. A part of her said that she should step forward and try to speak to Morgan, but she knew better. She knew if he'd decided on this course of action, nothing she would say would change his mind. She knew it had been thought through, and she knew the impact this would have.

What she didn't know was why. Perhaps it was as simple as the words that were spoken: treason against the Eternal and a desire for power. It wouldn't have been foreign to the Sith, but something told her that wasn't it. There was more. There had been a conversation. Tension. There was a story there, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to know it. Oh, who was she kidding, she wanted to know, but she didn't want it to happen.

She didn't want either of them to be killed, and then the thought brought her back to Dathomir. The day she had "ascended" to Queen, and what Raze had done. It was the way of the Sith, wasn't it? It was a chilling reminder. Friends were only friends so far.

 

[Ryo Tan]

The private meeting had concluded and thus Ryo started to make his way out of the rather larger ballroom when suddenly Darth Stolas' voice grew loud and he voiced his disappointment in his fellow plotter. Had Ryo been too obvious? Was Stolas trying to deflect from his own suspicious actions? Ryo couldn't leave before having at least observed the spectacle and by the time he had both of them in his sights again he watched the Sith Lord tell the crowd of Darth Malicia's intentions towards the Eternal and declare the most sacred of honor duels.

Immediately his eyes went towards those nearby cultists, in fact, most serving people today were cultist and none seemed unphased by what was happening. The one that had looked at Ryo with such hatred before suddenly began to step forward, pulling something from his pocket that looked at lot like a-

Ryo dashed forward and in a single fluid motion both grabbed and ignited his lightsaber to slice through the cultist's midsection in a heartbeat. Then he turned towards the two Darths at the center of attention and disabled his lightsaber. The cultist was dead before his body started to fall and all of it happened fast enough for most of the crowd, looking the other way, to even notice. It was intended to show the nearby cultists that they shouldn't dare to interfere what was according to the Eternal's sith code a most sacred tradition. The Arauk'kesh. Ryo was honored that he was allowed to witness such an event. In actuality his killing of a single cultist might only rouse the rest of the cult to violently protect their deity, but there was no real risk involved, for this was now clearly a ballroom filled with loyalists Eternal.

 

[Charlotte Le'Anna]

What a buzzkill. Charlotte was minutes away from finding out just how fun a fancy Sith ball could be when Stolas made his very loud declaration. Mood ruined. She did not bother to hide her frown. She clicked her tongue again as she untwined herself from Aadya. “They’ll be quick.”(@Logan) Charlotte floated just a few feet from her new object of desire. Her mind collecting to focus on the scene before her. Stolas had managed to gather the eyes of all the Sith in the room. She was jealous. It had been much more fun when Aadya was the center of attention, but the kind of focus Stolas was drawing was decidedly less enjoyable. Charlotte did not pretend to understand the games of the Sith Lords. They were above and beyond her.

She served the Darkness…not the Eternal…not a Lord…but a purpose. She was but one cog in an ever-churning machine. The Sith Lords knew nothing of her, and she knew only stories of them. She could not begin to understand what had caused this ancient challenge or how Malicia or Andruil would react. Kriff, she didn’t know how the assembled masses would respond. Of course, some oddball who had creeped around without speaking to a single soul started the killing. She caught it just out of the corner of her eye as the man had dashed rapidly forward. So…it was turning into that kind of party. Charlotte did feel a certain satisfaction having predicted the ball felt one step from chaos upon her arrival. She let her hands fall towards where her lightsaber was clipped to the underside of her skirt. If it was blood, she would not be caught unprepared.

The pale Sith merely watched to see what the Sith Lords and all the gathered friends would do next. She had no cath hound in this fight. Stolas seemed very dramatic, Malicia hungry, and Andruil silent. How would the less lordly Sith react. Her eyes flicked towards the door. The ancient right to challenge meant different things to different Sith. It was not always honored so precisely. How confident was Stolas the room was his?

 

[Marasi]

Arauk'kesh!?

Marasi had spent a great many days buried in ancient texts, going over the Sith lore with a fanaticism that was almost common among those hailing from the erstwhile Legions of Lettow. She had read of many an arauk'kesh, had even seen recordings of a few that had taken place in not so distant a past that technology hadn't been ready to record it. But never in her wildest dreams had she thought that there would be one in her time, let alone be present to witness one. Her heart beat so fast at the thrill of what was about to unfold that she feared it might beat its way right out of her chest.

She had stayed mostly inconspicuous in the peripheries of the party, not really mingling. She knew almost none who were gathered here, most were too far above her station, she simply hadn't earned the right to interact with them as equals. And she had been happy to stay where she was, observing the Marauders, Darths, and even Councilors who were present. There was much to learn even here. Who knows what a simple detail picked up here might come in handy. Just by looking at the outfits worn by some of them she had learned something that she had not known before. Vanity, exuberance, a preference for the finer things. She could use that, not today, but maybe some day.

But now she stepped forward, moving through the gathering to get a better look at the two Darths. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and she was not going to miss it. She had had not a drink tonight, yet she felt a rush unlike anything she had experienced before, an arauk'kesh!

 

[Darth Stolas]

THEME​

Stolas had made his declaration of challenge before all to see and hear. Ripples of it went through the crowd, mutterings, quiet expletives, and staring eyes. Goldens that burned bright bored into Malicia across the empty space while other other Sith and personnel looked on and reacted in their own way. Conversations stopped dead to pay attention to the two Sith Lords, the ball frozen stiff and still in anticipation of what was going to happen next.

Aadya's response brought Morgan pride, baring her fangs and ready to take action if one of the mad-eyed cultists tried something foolish. It reinforced his decision to accept her as a student and member of his camp. She had a strong will and good instincts and this was shown clearly here in a room of potential enemies.

The simply robed Ryo took a more immediate response to a cultist's poor choices. It stepped forward and then fell dead to the floor in two halves. Morgan decided then he would remember the man's face. Some other cultists that stepped forward to defend the woman they considered a goddess would doubtless find themselves impeded by Sith and soldiers less fanatically enamored.

Morgan's gaze never wavered from his prey. Malicia seemed surprised by this turn of events and the situation she'd walked right into, having not expected such a move from the Firrerreo. Her failures to understand and perceive had compounded and come to a full clash. It all came down to a simple principle.

The Drast prince would not suffer a direct rival to live. He stepped forward toward the silver-haired Sith, black boots thumping softly as he closed the distance between them like a stalking tiger approaching its quarry. Morgan's teeth and ambitions were bared before her, and she had not been prepared.

Malicia surrendered outright before the challenge. Stolas took the last step forward.

Iron fingers shot forward and closed around the woman's slender neck, inhuman strength lifting her bodily off her feet while his uncontested dominance of the Force seized her body in its grip. She choked and gasped, struggling to breath, and Morgan felt great pleasure in the act of slowly crushing the life out of her. He knew full well that he could easily just tear out her throat, toss it aside, and watch her life drain out onto the floor of what had been moments ago her own palace.

Morgan's grasp tightened, eyes looking directly into Malicia's in those moments as he made a decision. The other Darth hadn't even defended herself, had no passion for her position or her arrangement. She was no longer a rival. Her passive capitulation disgusted the young Drast. She was unworthy to even claim that name in passing.

Golden eyes flashed and Morgan's fanged smile became a vicious snarl. He tossed her unceremoniously to her hands and knees on ground, coughing and sputtering. Cultists expressed their open shock and horror at the situation around them, and in that moment the young Lord's eyes would turn back up to address them. Morgan straightened back up to his full and imperious height and his gaze passed briefly across the gathered Sith and non-cultist guards before he spoke again, wicked and fanged smile reasserting itself on his face.

"The Children of Alkis need to die. Help them along, would you? No survivors."

And then the purge of the traitorous cult would begin before their mother's own eyes.

@Dread @Eccles @Valen Pelora @Scoobert @Logan @Stratus @Wit @Phoenix @Morse @Isen @Forsythe Crowholde @Nefieslab @Braden Drake @Mockingjay @Tulos

OOC: Dread has opted not to post a reply for Malicia and instead take a loss. Going forward with the thread from there.

 

[Darth Draugr]

She.. she haven’t the feelings for me..

Xeno had looked to the ground. He was in shock. The only woman he had developed feelings past lust for. She, well completely rejected him. In doing so came the clawing to the face. Xeno had lifted his hand to his face as he listened to her words of not getting too close. After touching the places of her clawing, he felt a sting. Then looked at his hand. There was blood. It wasn’t leaking, just there.

His head moved back to face her but his eyes hadn’t. He couldn’t bare to look at her. The embarrassment he felt, it consumed him. His confusion of what he did wrong. In the moment it felt right, real. Yet, the Zabrak had only pissed her off. There would be a lesson to be taught later. Nothing he could say would change that. She had said her peace, now it was for Xeno to stay in his place as a student and just obey.

Never has he let his feelings take over like this until now, and unfortunately he found out why he had never let himself fall for someone. It was because in the moments the feel the most right, the most happy, the most true.. were when that person hurts you. Now Xeno had physical, and emotional scars from this occurrence alone.

After going over every possible scenario that would happen after this he decided it be best if he just left. She clearly didn’t look to be in the mood to speak to him. Not after he.. well made a move. So he would leave. He brought his head up as an involuntary tear rand down the side of his face where his newfound scars were and it leaked into them. His facial expression became cold. Like he had no soul anymore. Xeno forcefully was turning off any form of emotion he had. Letting whatever hatred was in him take over.

“Yes... of course... master..”

His eyes cold with no expression looked right through her. His only thoughts that came to his mind were that he was of another species. A Zabrak. How could think such a beautiful woman could want to be with some thing like him. After all, he was only a tool for the Sith.

Train him, ship him to battle, make him slaughter the enemy.

Xeno then looked away and walked away through the crowd, leaving his master behind. Time alone would be enough for him to regain his composure. That’s all he needed in this moment. Perhaps even stitches. Time to see what first aid a Sith Lord has in her rest rooms.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Nicolae Locke]

A coward it is, Nicolae thought.

Disappointing, really. Nicolae had never witnessed a battle between rival Sith Lords before. To see this one surrendered so anti-climatically...

And then the order was given.

Nicolae obeyed the victorious Lord without hesitation. With a flick of his wrists he conjured a curtain of shadows around himself and the cultists nearest him, cut through only by the explosion of crimson flame that burst from the hilt of his lightsaber. Blinded, the cultists were dead before they could even contemplate what was happening. When the shadows unfurled like wisps of smoke, his victims lay in pieces at his feet.

Nicolae stepped over them like discarded trash, lightsaber still lit in case any of the remaining cultists made the poor decision to fight. He regarded their fallen "mother" with only the briefest of glances and then turned his gaze back to the slaughter. Bloody proof that weakness was not permitted in the halls of the Sith.

 

[Venthis Habrak]

The events that transpired before them were as though myth had come to life. Though Habrak had some struggle with the methods that were brought forth by the young Sith on the battle planning stage, perhaps an issue in the battles that had come and gone was a lack of support. This party had been a monument to an extravagance of godlike creatures that were not following a unified path of their better god. Perhaps Darth Stolas was that one who would push them forward.

Almost like children the entire gathering had stopped and stared, no one helping the Dark lady Malacia for even a moment. Just minutes earlier Habrak had been granted the honor of his life in being spoken to directly by her, and now she lay on the ground a strewn bag of skin that was hardly able to stand in the shame and pain that she was rendered.

Yet in that commotion the order was clear.

"Excuse me, my Lady." Habrak spoke gravely, not yet forgetting that he had been standing and speaking with the Lady who had said to call her Renfry. His duty was clear, but this gathering was not his to disturb further.

"Troopers!" Habrak called to the dark clad and armored forces that were guard to the party. Many of Habrak's superiors in uniform were more stunned at the even than he was, but he would do his duty. "Seize them! Take them from this chamber and outside at once!"

Habrak's voice was stern and full forced, the tone of a true Officer of Dromund Kaas. The troopers moved, some of the Sith already gutting the cultists where they stood. Habrak would not steal the stage from Darth Stolas however he had orders.

As the troopers violently detained cultists before them Habrak moved to overlook their progress. As he did he looked to Darth Stolas, his eyes meeting his superior for even a moment.

The Sith was young, but he was more powerful and strong than any here and that placed him firmly as the one in charge. Habrak drew his pistol, blinked and nodded.

"My Lord." He added with a respectful bow of his head, as the guards ushered as many of the cultists outside as they could get their hands on that were not being butchered by other Sith.

The execution would be handled summarily and he would oversee it. Not for position, not for power, not for publicity. But because it was an order and he would follow it.

@Mr. Teatime @Phoenix

 

[Lorcan]

Lorcan had stepped aside to take a leak and when he came back, Stolas was standing over a choking Malicia and suddenly it was open season on the cultists? Shite, he missed something important while he was draining the snake didn't he? Kark this was exactly why he didn't like to come to parties - he always stepped outside the moment that things got interesting. Ugh and now they were killing cultists?

It wasn't hard to see which ones were cultists but it SUCKED because he'd left his blaster in his other suit pocket.

All he had in the suit he was currently wearing were some credit chips (that weren't his) and a small pocket knife he had picked up - he honestly didn't remember when - so long ago that he didn't even know if it vibrated or not. But hey, his boss said kill people so it was time to kill people.

"Excuse me, where's the bar?"

The cultist whirled to face him as he spoke before doubling over as Lorcan's fist impacted his squishy, squishy testicles. Poor dude didn't take well to the sudden influx of knuckles to his testicular region - like some kind of pussy, honestly. Grabbing the man by the hair with one hand, he stuck the thumb of his other hand out before jabbing it, violently, into the man's left eye. The man screamed in (understandable) pain and anger before Lorcan started stabbing the man in the jugular vein.

With his thumb.

It took several thrusts with his thumb before he managed to literally maul the man's throat open enough that Lorcan was confident that he was going to die without Lorcan needing to supervise him. He did NOT have time to wait around acting as a chaperone while one asswipe cultist decided he was going to bleed out over the course of several minutes, honestly. Taking off his belt was a little bit awkward because he was ninety percent sure his thumb was broken but oh well.

Pulling his leather belt taut between his two hands, he grinned as he spotted another cultist currently trying to stab a waiter to death (for some reason).

"OI! You! Come get a taste of Daddy's Belt you piece of shite!" He grinned at Stolas, "Best. Party. EVER Boss-man!"

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nicolae Locke]

Nicolae removed his blade from the back of a cultist who had seen the massacre and tried to flee. Another two made for the doors and the Sith magician raised his hand and held them shut with the Force. He saber cut cleanly through their backs with a single stroke. All around him, death and chaos reigned. The cultists here were mostly dead, and he switched his weapon off and replaced it on his belt.

Across the room, his eyes made contact with Darth Stolas. "My Lord," he said. "Darth Malacia's cult stretches far beyond this room. Are we to help the rest of them into the night?"

Nicolae couldn't imagine the Sith Lord wanted his now defunct rival's followers to survive and plot an uprising against him. And there was merit to getting into the good graces of Sith leadership. This was how ladders were climbed. Making connections, killing your betters' enemies, and obeying orders until such a time as you were giving them yourself. @Mr. Teatime

 

[Renfry]

Theme​

Renfry watched the unfolding, everything in the room stopped as they all waited for Malicia's response. A Sith Lord who had built up a cult and a kingdom whose name was supposed to carry weight in the Order.

And there was silence.

No response. No reply. No defense. Renfry would have fought tooth and nail for what was hers. For what she loved. If she died, then she would die in glorious bloodshed.

Instead, she watched the Sith simply being strangled. Abdicating at the first sight of conflict. No defense offered, no retort made, no words spoken. Renfry found herself disappointed. Enraged. Perhaps even betrayed. A deadly reminder of the precipitous edge she walked. The dangers that faced her. The precautions she must take.

And the first of those steps was time. Morgan - no, Stolas - was now a Councilor of the Sith. He commanded authority second only to the Eternal, and so when he ordered the cultists killed, Andruil acquiesced.

Her wine glass slammed against the wall nearby. The red of the wine mixed with the first blood of the cultists that began to spill. In a flash, her hand reached up to the hairpin that pierced her braid and pulled it free.

The pin was a solid spike for all intents and purposes and the nearest cultist servant found it in his throat in a flash even as he tried to scramble away. She fell upon him without delay, her knee slamming into his back and driving him into the ground as her hand gripped his hair and slammed his head into the ground. The pin plunged twice and thrice, blood pouring out onto the ground and spattering over her pale skin and the black dress she wore.

Another of the cultists leapt forward in either attack or defense, she neither knew nor cared. The same bloody fixation that had taken her during her conquest of Dathomir swallowed her now. The reasons were hers and hers alone, but the results were evident to all. A viciousness that was unparalleled and put her where she was today.

There was a sickening gurgling sound escaping her first victim's mouth as she leapt at the next man. The Shadow reached him first, a green mist wrapping his body up and slamming him into the wall with enough force that had there been less noise in the now-bloody room the sound of bone cracking would have been audible.

She grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground as well, though this time it was into the shattered glass of her own cup. Hardly lethal, it left blood in his eyes and forced him into blindly grabbing before he found a grip on Andruil's wrist. It was too late. Green fire from the hand gripping his head poured out and immolated his head, turning it into an extraordinarily grotesque sight of multiple states of matter.

 

[Marasi]

The taste in her mouth had soured at what she had witnessed. This was not an arauk'kesh, this was a sham. She had just rolled over, hadn't even lifted a finger to defend herself. And then he just let her live? Marasi was seething, till she looked around to see similar expressions on the faces of the other Sith. Disgust, anger, even pity, all directed at Da..no, not Darth, just Malacia. She had lost that privilege when she turned her back on what it meant to be Sith.

She understood then, why Stolas had let her live. He had beaten her, to the Sith she was as good as dead. But now she would have to live with her defeat, with the shame. Appreciation swelled within her as recognition dawned. She had just witnessed the ascension of a true Sith, and that was enough to quell the disappointed rage that had been bubbling within her on witnessing the so called arauk'kesh.

But she didn't let the anger fade away, instead she grabbed it and directed it towards the cultists. The Councilor had given an order, and his will would be done. As two cultists rushed her, seeing her simple dress and meek manner and assuming she was some server girl or aide accompanying a Sith, she opened her palms and let her arms spread out to the side. Sparks emerged at the edge of her fingers and two balls of flame sprang to life. She reached out and grabbed the cultists as they approached. The flames jumped gleefully from her to them, embracing their flesh and bone like a starved beast feasting on delicious prey. She continued walking, two balls of flame jumping back to her hands, leaving the burnt remains of what had once been two fools.

"Peace is a lie," the words escaped her lips as she muttered a quick prayer for the dead, "the Force shall set you free."

 

[Pedee]

This is an unexpected turn of events. But not an unwelcome one for Pedee. "Now this is my kind of party!" the bodyguard droid said with relish. She stood with the other Sith after what transpired. Usually these kinds of parties are boring to her, after all she is a droid that can neither eat nor drink. And Father didn't program her to know any dances? Can you believe that? All she can do is listen to bad music. But Darth Stolas is now a Dark Council member? And now they are to clean up this place with cultists? Now is this fun...

Droids of the P1-D3S line are always prepared for combat and Pedee is no different, that's how she was designed. Pedee would literally leap into the fray at some of the cultists. Once she closed the distance with one of them, she would throw a right-handed punch with her phrik-laced gauntlet right in the upper chest. Because flesh is weak and her fists are made out of one of the most strongest metals in the galaxy, the result of this is like one would expect. Her fist would come out the other end of the hapless organic.

After the cultist fell and she retreated her own blood-stained arm, she would then take out the micro-rocket launcher that was holstered underneath her dress she wore today (to better fit in with the other females in attendence) and then start firing at some more of the cultists.

One person (@Nefieslab) said this was the best party ever, and Pedee replied "I concur". Pedee would then eye Stolas (@Mr. Teatime), and nod at him before turning her focus on mopping of the rest of the cultists.

 

[Saragnayan]

“Yes... of course... master..”

His eyes cold with no expression looked right through her. His only thoughts that came to his mind were that he was of another species. A Zabrak. How could think such a beautiful woman could want to be with some thing like him. After all, he was only a tool for the Sith.

Train him, ship him to battle, make him slaughter the enemy.

Xeno then looked away and walked away through the crowd, leaving his master behind. Time alone would be enough for him to regain his composure. That’s all he needed in this moment. Perhaps even stitches. Time to see what first aid a Sith Lord has in her rest rooms.

There was a shift in the Force, and the vision of her past blurred away into the present. Hrist had not realized that she had indeed clawed her student's face as her mind brought memories of hose hateful days before Father took her under his wing, and while she thought that she had put those in the furthest corners of her mind Xeno had triggered them back without meaning to.

The Masters had been soft back then, like Xeno was now. Until they weren't, and Xeno had stopped being soft. His softness was different from the Masters, and–

Why was he quashing that softness now? Did she do something wrong? Well, she did, apparently, and in her struggle to put her mind back to the present she had hurt her precious student when he was trying to say something important – when he chose the moment to show a hint of vulnerability.

The Marauder still didn't understand why he was being... soft towards her, but the change in his demeanor before he left spelled out Hrist's failure as a Master. Did she really fail? In what regard? But the feeling struck crystal clear, and before she could step forward to follow him Darth Stolas' voice rang clear in the hall.

Hrist had been too caught up with the battle in her own mind that she had missed what was taking place around her. She reached out to Xeno through their bond in the Force, telling him eight words that brooked no argument before she complied to Darth Stolas' command.

We will talk. Wait and come with me.

Hrist did not bother using her concealed lightsabers. The Force was her ally. Ruby gaze locked on a small group of fleeing cultists, and the Marauder made a beeline for the five cultists, one hand lifting towards them. Channeling her anger at what she might have done to her dear student, the Dark Side of the Force swirled around her, power building from her mind down to the tips of her fingers as lightning shot from them. Electricity arced from her fingertips and hit the five cultists – and with her anger building she didn't bother controlling herself. Five smoking bodies dropped on the floors in quick succession and Hrist's gaze found her next targets.

She hadn't expected for Darth Malicia to surrender in her own turf. Hrist now couldn't care less about it – not when she had her own anger to quell and a student to talk with.

@Scoobert

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

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Stolas' demand resounded in Aadya's ears clearly and she had no hesitation in enacting it. Pulling her lightsaber from its hidden spot beneath her dress, the young acolyte activated its blade instantly and sliced the long portion of her dress cleanly just above her knee. If they were going to be mass murdering a bunch of cultist scum, she wanted her full range of motion - plus, it would just make things easier for the plans Aadya had for Charlotte when they were done.

Seeing two cultists attempting to flee, Aadya let out a condescending chuckle, baring her fanged teeth as her eyes darted towards a silver platter one of the serving droids were still holding.

Reaching out with the force, Aadya gripped the platter and sent it flying with immense speed straight for the cultists. The platter, which was fairly thin on the sides, sliced through both of their necks and sending their heads rolling along the floor before planting itself in the chest of another cultist.

A knife wielding cultist was able to get a quick drop on Aadya as she had been distracted, slicing her upper arm. A thin, four inch line formed and blood began to pool slightly on her skin. Whipping her head around to find the perpetrator, Bringing her saber up, Aadya was able to catch the next blow, her weapon slicing clean through the knife - what kind of idiot didn't use vibroblade? - which allowed Aadya's follow through to swing her weapon down, cleaving the cultist through the shoulder.

Her lightsaber carried down to near the middle of his chest before Aadya brought her foot up and kicked the idiot off of her blade, his body crumpling after it flew through the air and crashed into a nearby wall.

Blood trickling down her arm, Aadya couldn't help but let her lips curl into venomous grin. She was more than happy to bleed for her Lord.

Crush these insects so we can get back to our business, Aadya shouted to Charlotte, licking the blood from her arm and spitting it onto the floor; the wound so shallow it had already started to clot.

 

[Darth Caelestis]

Typical of both Nobles upon Serenno and among the Sith themselves it appeared that this Nicolae, seemed rather full of himself. He was definitely of Serennian decent that was true completely, his voice gave it away, let alone the tone as to which he addressed him. Though the change in his mannerism when asked a simple question of his name made Artorigas stop and consider, was their something within his past that made him hate his name or family. Or was he like so many of their brethren who cast off their previous lives upon joining the Sith Eternal, or even a combination of both that was most likely, many who joined their ranks had 'issues' that only a complete belief in the Dark Side of The Force could resolve, now that was 'Quaint.'

Before he could correct the man about the store and pursue any further conversation with the Serennian the mood abruptly changed. The Darth's had returned and neither looked pleased of what had occurred whilst they were alone, though this displeasure turned to outright condemnation from a single word. Arauk'kesh. He had gained some knowledge of the Sith during his short time with him and this was one of the things that had stuck with him, the ancient right which taught all, that only in power one can rule the Sith. Artorigas understood the reasoning of the method, it allowed the Sith to keep themselves strong, no one could rest on their haunches once they reached the top or expect death. Artorigas did have a slightly sour taste in his mouth as the clearly unhindered Darth Stolas challenged the clearly pregnant Darth Malicia. But he would learn to live with that taste, perhaps she should not have been so open with her challenge of The Eternal whilst in this state, perhaps waiting a few more months would have been the smarter decision. As such he was not shocked at that happened next, the complete surrender of Darth Malicia made if anything the most sense. If Stolas was the man of his word she could leave here with her life and that of her children, where as to fight in her state was asking for death.

Unfortunately this was not the first time he had seen a pregnant women half strangled and thrown to the floor during a party. You see alcohol often gives people loose tongues and secrets about parenthood often were released during parties such as these, nobles like all people did not desire to be tied down to people they disliked and because of this they often strayed and being nobles it was a lot easier to do it and get away with it. Even his sister had been accused of straying from her husband during the last party he had been at on Serenno. 'Though luckily no strangulation was involved there.' he thought. The murder spree that also followed was not something he was surprised at, a coup, which was the boring term for an Arauk'kesh was always followed by a purge, supporters of the departed would be expelled by supporters of the incoming. Though unlucky for 'The Children of Alkis' the purgers were Sith and brutal ones at that.

As the blood sport began Artorigas turned back to the two glasses he had secured for himself and Nicolae, the wine under his arm however was still corked, glancing across the platters for a corkscrew. "Nope, not their, what about, nope that platter is now decapitating a man... I guess its the boring way." He said to himself, reaching down with The Force he grabbed hold of the cork and slowly pulled the stopper free. It just didn't feel the same as the slight strain and release of pulling it out by hand. He brought the bottle up to his nose and gave it a quick sniff. As he did the area around him went black for a moment before the red haze of a lightsaber lit up the bottle before him. The table rocked to one side as the body of one of Nicolae's victims bumped into it, as the darkness subsided Artorigas noticed a spot of blood on the inside of the glass. "Seriously." He called out to the Sith Marauder as he stalked away looking for another kill. Grabbing a napkin he rubbed away the blood furiously before holding the glass up to the light to check the sparkle. Nodding to himself he poured two glasses of the Chateau Fiyarro, noting the marking on the bottom of the bottle. "Ahh it is a 131, such a better year."

Turning back around he noticed that the room had turned into pure carnage. He let out a sigh, it seemed as though his original four drinking partners were now well on the way into the killing spree. He spotted Darth Stolas in the middle. "I guess he could do with a drink whilst he waited for the slaughter to finish." He said to himself before beginning the trip over. Screams let out left and right as he walked forward, one glass in his right hand and the other as well as the bottle in his left.

As he walked Artorigas took a quick hop back as the body of a cultist fell in front of him, the form of Darth Andruil @Phoenix atop his back her rather lovely yet dangerous looking hairpin flashing into the cultist. A splash of blood hit his trousers, 'Poor Cydric is gonna have fun getting that out.' He thought, the Darth quickly disappeared from her prey moving quickly it seemed onto the next. Artorigas glanced down at the gurgling dying creature, it definitely looked like a painful way to die, perhaps the Lightsabers were the easier option here.

The rather heavily built Legionnaire @Nefieslab he had originally tried to drink with walked by next, his belt held within his hands looking for his own target. 'That was going also going to be a painful way to die as well' he thought. Artorigas did feel a little sorry for these Cultists, they all got out of bed this morning looking forward to a good night celebrating their leader. Now they were fleeing for their lives and if they were lucky getting a quick death. A burst of fire from his right caused him to dance slightly to his left as another Sith @Wit let out a burst of Force Fire engulfing two screaming men. Ouch. An explosion erupted on his left this time forcing him right as a rocket crashed into another cultist near him. "When did a droid turn up?" @The Good Doctor He said out loud though he doubted anyone in the room could hear him considering the carnage.

Finally he was able to reach Darth Stolas @Mr. Teatime , coming into view next to the fallen Darth Malicia he gave the victorious Sith a small bow, shifting his right leg behind his left and lowering his head. It was not as deep as he would have liked but he had to make sure he did not spill the wine. "Lord Stolas." He said in reverence, straightening he took a step forward his right arm outstretched offering the glass of wine. "Wine my Lord, to quench your thirst. It is perhaps the first or second best vintage off Serenno in the past fifty years. I hope it is too your taste?"