Open Judgment

[Mjan Adas iv Sadow]

There was a smile upon Mjan's face as he gazed upon Trodai as he recieved the Dark Lady's Blessings, an earnest sense of pride swelling up within him as his view shifted back upon the Prisoner and the Lady known as Tempest. Her depth within the Darkside was deeper than any shade he had ever experienced, a near natural aspect in which her presence resided within, as if she and the Darkside were as one. To know such power, knowledge, and the finality of fate. She was the Darkside incarnate, his breathing and living will upon the universe. To gaze upon it's abyss and find one's self perfect. Mjan understood this most of all.

The Prisoner, failed to find himself within the abyss, or found himself wanting as most Sith do. Flinching as the weight of her judgements upon him emanated even into the Galleries, Mjan noticed his unrefined understanding to be defiant. Within in his eyes, he reveled in her torture, unable to grasp or comprehend her intentions. He seemed to have lost his mind decades ago. Chaos would be his undoing and serve as his eternal prison. Lost Sith such as he could never rule over it.

Would this be Mjan's fate as well? To never grasp the concept that evil begets evil, that in chaos, there is a storm? A storm that takes one's freedom and mind? Destined to wander it's vortex oblivious and meek? No. Mjan's understanding was deeper, more refined. Cremek failed because of who he was. The displeasure he had caused the Dark Lady was now his own. Mjan sought to be Sith'ari one day, this was true and an open aspect. One day he wanted to hold what she does. For his rise to Sith'ari was prophesied. And through him, the Sith Species would flourish.

But Sith'ari come and go, just as the changing of the seasons. The young grow old and from death comes life. It was the natural order. Tempest would inevitably go in way of the former Dark Lord, just as he did with his, and Mjan would inevitably go just as Tempest would. Perhaps his would be elongated, but fate was a fickle aspect of the Darkside and of the Force, constantly changing just as it did with time. He would arrive at his station in all due time, and Mjan was patient. The way of the Sith was absolute.

And, to Mjan, it would be an honor to surpass one such as she, his gaze turning back upon the Sith'ari in her display. There was no betrayal in striving to be the best. He would simply follow the rules laid down by their forefathers. He may not be but a Champion, but in time, he would master himself as much as he masters the Darkside. For now, he was simply complicit and content in his journey beneath her. For it was his brother that he feared for most of all.

Spoiler

@Altaris @Hastur @Akheron

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa watched the torturous execution from a massive raven balanced on his shoulder. A hooded cloak made from Hssiss hide comfortably shrouded them combined with a breath mask. Both hands were neatly, but casually, placed behind the Wrean's back. Tempest made her point clear as the finest crystal.

She was much more powerful than last they'd met, and with far deeper influence. Vahliri was a Dark Lord of the Sith, awe-inspiring and terrible. What great knowledge and power had she gained over these last many years? He considered not bringing up the spooky cult hallucination juice incident.

All the Mandalorians died, but none were treated so horrifically as Cremek. Every echo of pain and death reached the shaman and were devoured, such as they were. Combined with the given gifts, it was a display of both favor and retribution. Pointless slaughter leads to a bounty, a betrayal of the Order, shot down by their 'allies', and finally capture. All in a few months. It was impressive to be sure, but not in a good way.

Yet part of why Nakoa was here. They were a guest. Darth Tempest had invited them on account of the Apex contract. He didn't otherwise care about the Mando-Sith-person's existence, whether alive or dead.

So he smirked a wry and wicked smirked and watched. Amberine eyes glanced over others known to him in the grounds and galleries: Azar, Karys, Vossari, and Cyu. The former three were all grouped and received their rewards together, he noted with surprise. How small the galaxy could be. All so tied together.

Fate was funny that way. The shaman would say hello later on, but just now, he knew better than to interrupt.

The raven quietly cawed like grumbly, sniggering laughter at the sound of Cremek's screams and crumbling bones.

@Altaris @Sreeya @Apollyon @Fine Dining Set @Xorism @Hastur

 

[Karys]

As the attendant popped the box open before them all, Karys felt himself pause. His eyes beheld the rewards for his labor. Vambraces of pure beskar. He swallowed hard. He understood what this meant.

The Dark Lords eyes were upon him.

She was evaluating his successes. She was watching for failures. She had taken interest for even the briefest of moments in them. Her favor was a double edged sword, one slip up meant that he could find himself in her ire. On top of that, he felt the eyes of countless Sith gazing jealously at him.

No more hiding in the shadows now.

Karys gently pulled the golden vambraces from his arms. He hung them from his belt and plucked the silver beskar ones from the box. He gingerly slid them on before gazing up at Darth Tempest in all her majesty. He closed his eyes and dipped his head, a gesture of submission, respect, and acknowledgement to the embodiment of the Dark Side herself.

Then her golden eyes sharply shifted from them to Cremek, the fool. Cremek, the traitor. Cremek, the damned. Her words would be a death sentence to both him and his followers.

The horrific spectacle would begin in earnest. Karys would speak to his apprentice without breaking his gaze on Cremek.

“Do not look away Vossari.” He ordered in a hushed tone. “The eyes of the whole Order are hunting for weakness now.” He continued. “Give them nothing.”

Karys’ order was accented by the cracking of bone and screams of a dying man. This was the price of failure. This was the price of betrayal. This was the price of abandoning the Sith.

Rest in piss Cremek.

@Fine Dining Set @Altaris @Sreeya @Hastur

 

[Serene]

Serene was aloof to the attention she drew from Darth Tempest due to her attire. The woman had no expectation of a dress code but she was as equally comfortable undressing if the woman requested it. The Sith Champion hardly expected the Dark Lord of the Sith to give her any attention today which was why she was ignorant of Tempest's gaze.

When gifts were bestowed Serene had to admit she was a little envious. She knew if she wanted a reward she had to earn it. But even the dark sider did not feel she was worthy of praise. She had hardly done anything. But it did serve to make the woman hungry for success. Unlike the mandalorians, she would live to learn.

Serene Graves leaned forward in her seat, as if entranced by a performance conducted by Darth Tempest. Her heart beat faster and her pupils dilated as she focused on the form and figure of the Dark Lord. Serene admired the power she displayed and what was even more power implied. This was just an example of what she was capable of, what Serene aspired to be.

Today she was not wearing her helmet because it also meant Cremek and everyone else would see her face. The woman's cool features had changed, her lips were curled into a sadistically smug expression as her eyes danced from one painful sight to the next. There were acolytes, champions even that would flinch at the example being made. But not Serene. The Sith watched and enjoyed being in the splash zone. She wanted to hear the last breath leave her former peer and watch his light go out unobstructed.

 

[Freyja]

For Freyja, the whole execution was an excellent learning opportunity. It didn't just matter what happened down there, even if it was obviously where her main focus was directed at, but she was also gathering information on who showed up, who decided to stand next to whom, who chose chattering instead of enjoying the show, and the Ashen haired acolyte was even assessing how they all chose to show up.

Why some chose to disrespect the Dark Lord by entering in extravagant or simply unfitting attire for the occasion, she didn't know, but she also couldn't help but wonder whether in the near future, there'd be just another lovely occasion like the current one. The thought just briefly tugged at her mind, but amused her quite a bit.

When Darth Tempest began tormenting not only the exiled master, but his Mandalorian followers as well, Freyja found the sheer display of power intoxicating. The snapping of bones echoed through the chamber while agonized cries escaped the victims. The beautiful darkness all around was enticing, and while still at Azar's side, the young woman watched with pleasure and curiosity.

@Altaris @Sreeya @Apollyon

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar’s eyes widened in surprise as the gifts were offered. He was humbled beyond words, thinking back to all the whiny Sith that waxed poetic about how the Order only took. No, the Order gave as well. It gave Azar a new home after he was cast out of his old one, and each day he felt himself grow powerful and feel valued for his contribution. His loyalty to Tempest grew that much stronger with this display, a smile on his face as he accepted the rewards. Azar turned to give a nod to both Karys and Vossari, recognizing them for doing their part as well.

He turned to his apprentice (@LadyRen ), “The key to survival is contribution,” He explained to her, “Make yourself far too valuable to lose,” Azar explained as he watched Cremek and his men crumbling, “If the Sith Order can continue perfectly fine without reeling from your loss, then you are already dead,” Azar gave a dark smile, his gaze panning over several others gathered there.

Eventually, however, Azar’s attention was drawn to something other than the spectacle. He had expected the ‘visitor’ gallery to be empty. But not only did it contain a figure (@Mr. Teatime ), but also a raven Azar instantly recognized. The Pureblood’s eyes narrowed, and he quickly thought things over.

He would wait until the theatrics with Cremek were over before he started to descend down when all the others were allowed to move. Azar would bow respectfully before Tempest before addressing her once she had a moment.

“My lady,” He began, “As you trust me with the title of Sith Master, I hope you will heed my counsel. Having a member of Apex present here puts us at tremendous risk,” Azar said quietly, “This man can now confirm all of our identities and our location. Apex is a strictly neutral entity and anyone can simply offer a price for this wealth of knowledge,” This had nothing to do with his feelings on Nakoa - at this point Nakoa could be considered one of Azar’s casual lovers. He had turned to Nakoa for many different ventures. However, the Sith Order and its survival ranked far above any personal relationships Azar carried. There were many maskless Sith standing around here.

Not only that - but if Nakoa had ever been a Sith, they had abandoned them in their time of need during the split. Why, then, would they be permitted at a gathering meant strictly for Sith at their secret and main base? Would Altair Din be welcome next?

@Altaris

 

[Ayomi Jakarta]

Ayomi could feel the waves of emotion rolling off of their apprentice beside them. Not unexpected, but no apprentice of theirs was going to appear weak. They looked down to the girl at their side, seeing her staring at her saber gauntlets. A firm hand reached out, grasping her chin and raising her head to train her gaze on the scene below.

"Show no weakness. This is the price of failure, apprentice. Resolve yourself to overcome your father's deficiencies." Ayomi whispered the the small Mandalorian.

They noticed one of the Dark Lord's attendants approaching the trio of Karys, the Potionmaster Azar, and the mouthy acolyte Vossari, presenting them with gifts of Beskar. How in the hells had the Wrean managed to impress the Lord of the Sith herself? At least Karys was getting some kind of present for becoming a champion. The Tiefling adjusted their own red eyes to view the scene below, taking in the sight of the traitor's bones snapping as his limbs contorted to horrifying angles; and yet the power on display was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Cremek's allies withered to dust, a reminder that for all their skill with a blade Ayomi was notably more detatched from the Force than their fellow champions.

@Hastur @Altaris

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai observed as Tempest averted her gaze upon those not adequately dressed for the occasion. Trael among them. Good he thought. Maybe that chimp who fancied himself worthy of Azar's attention, the Sith'ari attention, and he had previously stomped quite handily would finally be out of his way. At least he knew how to dress proper, he thought And was royalty.

He watched with reverence and silence as the Dark Lord sooke, laying down her will and her judgement upon the man Trodai once knew. But there was no sentimentality, no feelings for what I was suffering or his men. Only joy. His true self revealed at last, for he too had been deceived. He knew him to be of Darkness but never had He imagined him a Sith. Or to be a bwetrayer. It incensed him to have been associated.

Now there was only a deep hatred. He wished it were him to end the man, but to see the Dark Lord to do it was good enough. And she did it masterfully. Drying and draining his men until only bones remained with such power that he was in awe. He wondered if Azar or his Master were capable of the same one day. Was he capable? Time would tell.

He smiled under his mask as Azar, Mary's and Vossari received their gifts. He envied it slightly. Wishing it were him in some way, but to see Azar recognised was enough for now. Someday he thought. He didn't recognise Vossari. Not really, the two had never really met properly. But he could tell he was likely close or associated to Azar and Karys given what just happened. He was a little jealous. Trodai looked to his Master, expecting he would likely use this moment as a lesson.

Although he had suffered already at his hands. It certainly got the point across to be more careful, and watch who you trust. Creme had learnt the hard way. There was no escaping judgement. Not with the Sith.

He nodded his old friend Khlan Gonk. He looked so pathetic, and he had heard he hadn't made much progress getting a Master. So despite himself he decided to do him this one favour.

Telepathically he sent a message to Khlan.

"Come over here my friend. Let's introduce you it my Master, to Caerllion. Perhaps then you will learn. Don't say I didn't do you any favours."

@Sreeya @Apollyon @Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi @Hastur @Altaris @Javier esschoolbus @Narzen

 

[Feifi Candorus]

oh feifi, the poor girl, to be forced here, to watch her father suffer, and be put down, well aware of what caused him to be captured, she remains silent, she only speaks when her master makes her watch.


"But if I watch.. I fear I wont be able to control myself, master.."

she admitted, she had no desire to betray the sith, especially now, but her instincts as a duaghter were screaming at her to do something stuipid, something she knew would get her killed.. even if feifi when she was thinking normally would never do such a thing.. but grief and heart-wrenching anger can.. cloud ones judgement.. thank goodness feifi recognized this, and was actively fighting it, father wouldn't want her to throw her life away..

"I fear I will do something incredibly stupid.."
She was being honest.. if she couldn't be honest with her teacher, who was supposed to guide we to sithdom, who could she be frank with?..

@René

 

[Nevizkas]

Cyutadakyr acknowledged the Dark Lord as she cast her eyes across the gathered, ensnaring the subtle disappointment.

The illustrious pureblood watched in silence as the three gifts laid bare. An invisible glare drilled through Azar's pretty skull as the sultry fuck boy honored, and blessed with a gift of a disgusting culture. Her gaze turned next to Karys, an enigmatic man she could not decipher nor determine after the news of Troiken trickled in. A troubled woman, Param had dug her own grave in some respects. But that did not mean that she would easily forget what happened, nor the meaning lost upon her.

Then the walking pleasure toy he called an apprentice beside him.

How the social outing had changed their lives, was yet to be revealed.

The main course began next as the assembled watched in silence. The crimes of Cremek and his ilk against the order were both indefensible and stupid. Worse, he was caught in the act and didn't even have the decency to take the matter into his own hands.

Still, this way was better. The vulgar display of power, they watched as the dark lord reminded them all of their place. No one among them would stand up for the old crazy fool, his blathering and crazed speak not missed again in these halls. After the deed was done, Cyutadakyr subconsciously held a hand over her abdomen hidden under the dress as she made her way over to the others.

Master Kreshh had already moved to deal with the new arrival and thus she arrived to congratulate the favored.

"Champion. Acolyte." Her eyes switched between the pair as she smiled. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your success, the favor of the dark lord is a blessing, and an expectation." Her voice lowered. "So take care not to drown in it." (@Apollyon @Fine Dining Set )

@Sreeya @Fine Dining Set @Apollyon

 

[Anai Skhess]

The Kaleesh silently stood and watched as some of the sith currently present received gifts from the Dark Lord herself. While she knew those gifts were well deserved, at least from what she had heard from Karys' had told her, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy for a moment, a jealousy that she knew wasn't justified. It was clear she needed to step up her game, make bigger moves once again. She had grown so accustomed to the furtive live in the shadows that she had forgotten to take part in the search for glory herself, it was about time she leaned less on her former inquisitor position and went back to being a proper champion.

Anai watched with a stoic expression as Cremek's punishment started. Anai was not a sadist, she gained no pleasure from seeing him be turned into an example. but she certainly had no sympathy for disgraced sith that had gone against the order. She had seen him suffer in his fight against J'av, and he would see him suffer even more here, suffering that was well deserved. It was a warning for everyone that went against them, a display of power from the one she had pledged loyalty to years ago.

 

[Trael Osso-Drast]

Trael had shown up in a suit primarily because his armor had been stolen and he wasn't going to use some basic robes. Besides it's not like it should matter he wasn't dressed informally or provocatively. The heat was another issue robes would've been unbearable even with the AC.

His gaze darted over to Azar, Karys and Vossari as they were given gifts by the dark lord. Well it seems the Order does reward those of worth. It seemed they were some form of armor, he turned his gaze back to the Mandalorians below. It seems their precious metal found a worthy use.

The Dark Lord finally begun her display of power. First she drained the essence from all Cremek's minions. Then the halls were filled with the screams of the former master. Trael simply watched with an emotionless face, he gained no joy from this, but he couldn't deny how impressive Tempest's power is.

@Altaris

 

[Khlan Gonk]

Khlan's good eye glinted with enjoyment and excitement while his cybernetic eye focused further on both Darth Tempest and her subject of torture. The judgement from Tempest was a fine display of using the Force. Albeit, he himself would've gone a different route. Punishment like this he supposed did have its advantages, but Khlan would've rather studied his insides and rebuild his body from the ground up. He heard rumors that the Empire once rebuilt a bounty hunter's brain and made it so he could only feel anger. Surely similiar things could've been done to this one? Still, even he could admire such display of power.

Khlan perked his head up at hearing the voice in his head from his old bodyguard. He scowled slightly, annoyed that people were invading his mind like that. It was the one place he was unable to alter with his cybernetics yet, and invasion of the mind made him uneasy.

Still, Trodai presented an opportunity for the Gank, and being the parasite he was, Khlan would not refuse. Slowly and quietly, in an effort to not draw too much attention away from the display, he approached the Sith cautiously. He knew enough that Sith could be pleasant one second and brutal the next. Bipolar-borderline-personality idiots the lot of them could become. But if he wanted to grow his own strength in the Force, securing a master, or a client, was necessary.

Once close, Khlan didn't say anything except cough quietly a few times to draw attention from hopefully the one known as Caerllion, and to give Trodai the cue to introduce Khlan.

@Sreeya @Apollyon @Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi @Hastur @Altaris @Javier esschoolbus

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai observed as Khlan made his way over. He was wary, hoping his old ally didn't do anything stupid or say anything that might embarrass him. Hoping he didn't make him look bad in front of everyone or his Master. Especially in front of Azar. He made another quick Telepathic message.

"Try and be civil. And watch what you say...he is my Master. You make me look bad here and I'll remove your other arm."

It wasn't just a threat but a promise, and Khlan likely knew that. Trodai kept his word. As he coughed, Trodai looked towards him, putting on something skin to a fake smile as he faced his Master and spoke.

"Oh hello Khlan, it's been a while. Master Caerllion, allow me to introduce a old ally of mine. Khlan Gonk. Don't mind the look, his better than he appears, and has our gifts."

Telepathically he sent his Master a message.

"Be wary around him, he is an ally but he can be a opportunist. But has uses, and the Force. He currently seeks a Master if I recall."

@LouJoVi @Khlan Gonk

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest deliberately took her time - drawing out the anguish and suffering of those captured on Thule. Those assembled would watch as dozens of Mandalorian warriors were siphoned of their very life essence, their bodies withering like aged fruit. Faces filled with life were sunken and hollow, leaving only the faintest trickle of blood that poured from the corners of their mouths. It was testament to the strength of the Dark Lord of the Sith, drinking from so many without climbing from the steps of her throne. Lifeless eyes gazed off towards every direction of the room, bodies slumped onto their sides. And then there was Cremek.

Despite his agonizing state, the traitor would be afforded an opportunity to watch the demise of his followers before his own was swiftly to follow. As her fingers flexed outward, so too were the Mandalorians limbs stretched and pulled in opposite directions - iron bands of the Force coiling tightly across his body. There would be no pause. No relief. No opportunity for the Mandalorian to tap into the gifts of Raze to defend himself.

Bone, ligament and tendons were twisted and torn out of place. Flesh pulled to its absolute limit before it began to tear. One by one, Tempest would quite literally rip the limbs from Cremek’s body like a Wookiee enraged - decorating the polish floors of the Temple with his blood and extremities. The Mandalorian would fall unconscious from the pain long before the display was finished, before his windpipe collapsed with the closing of her fist. At last, Tempest would allow his lifeless body - or what remained of it - to drop to the middle of the floor to be disposed of alone with the others.

Silence fell over the hallowed halls once more, and Tempest settled back into her high seat. She didn’t miss the arrival of a certain Apex visitor - a face that the Dark Lord recognized from an age prior. There was business to be attended to, and it wasn’t until Azar approached that her gaze drifted away from Nakoa.

Tempest paused - allowing Azar to completely voice his concerns. It was counsel that the Dark Lord relied upon from those trusted within the Order, and which the Pureblood had earned the right to voice through his contributions. Her fingers drummed against the armrest of her throne, considering everything that had been said. “I do not bring former Champion Singh here without justification, Master Kressh.” Promises had been floated to the Dark Lord of the Sith - and it was for that reason alone that Nakoa was allowed to step foot within her halls. Tempest tilted her head towards Azar after a moment. “However,” She continued. “Your counsel is valued. Allow me to ensure that Singh will pose no threat to what is ours.” The Dark Lord rose from her seat. “Remain by my side.” She said coldly.

A single hand was lifted to draw the attention of her Order - voice projected through the Force. “You have witnessed the fate of those who betray us to our enemies.” She said, feeling no need to reference the body that decorated the court. “But there is yet another apostate to this holy order amongst us.”

Her gaze tilted towards Nakoa. “Nakoa Singh. Strategist of Apex Military Contractors.” Her head tilted. “Former Champion of the Sith.” All eyes would be upon him now - even as he occupied a gallery to himself. He would feel their confusion. Their anger. Their disdain. He was surrounded by enemies with only the Dark Lord herself to sanction his presence amongst them, and only her allowing him to leave.

“Returned, to strike a deal with our Order. To provide services in exchange for knowledge.” It was the vague details of what had been promised - promises that Tempest had every intention of confirming with Arla. “Very well.”

“Allow me to assure you that a single step out of line will earn Singh the same fate as the apostate before him.” The Dark Lord drew a single knife from her belt - the rune-carved blade glinting against the light. One specifically designed for bloodletting. A single, empty vial was taken from the Potion Master that stood beside her. “And that he will provide tribute to his Lord.”

Dagger and vessel were placed at the base of her throne for Nakoa to do as instructed. There was no mystery as to what the Dark Lord of the Sith demanded of the Apex Strategist, why she had taken the vial from Azar, and the steep price that came with so much as entering the hallowed halls of the Sith Order. A piece of himself would be left within her possession. Insurance that he would never be beyond her reach in the event of betrayal.

Nakoa had come to make deals with the devil. And perhaps only now would he come to recognize the danger that he had willingly placed himself in.

 

[Feifi Candorus]

Feifi had to look away, she couldn't help it anymore, she just fell to her knees, fuck appearing weak, that was her damn father and she was going to mourn him, fuck what the rest thought of it.

<"Not gone.. simply marching far away.. rest easy, your finnaly free from your insanity father..">

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Tempest's displays of power was awe-inspiring and terrible, a threat as much as a beacon of what one could achieve with enough time and experience. It was a cruel and drawn-out death for Cremek and his followers. None would envy such a fate. Broken, twisted, and drained into nothingness. The observers would never forget the sight of it.

Nakoa observed Azar approach and speak to the Dark Lord. Although unaware of what the Pureblood said, Azar was a cunning and dedicated thinker. Singh could only guess. Well, it was probably something clever and well-considered. That much was certain. It was why Nakoa liked him.

But this was business and personal feelings had little weight here. Nakoa needed to focus on handling things properly and very, very carefully. It was beyond dangerous here and there wasn't really a way out of it.

Tempest spoke, voice echoing through the black halls as if from on high. The Wrean former Sith's expression shifted, practiced and water-like, toward enigmatic composure. Fear nonetheless crept up their spine behind practiced composure as the Dark Lord openly elaborated on her guest's presence. It was cunning of her to invite Nakoa and enact this display. No wonder, between her and others stepping up, that the Order was unbroken.

Irirangi keenly felt the crowd's mixed and angry gaze through their empathic gifts. Amber-gold eyes remained firmly on Tempest and Azar at her side. Long legs turned to walk from the guest gallery and toward the throne when so invited. They observed the knife, the bottle, the Dark Lord and the Sith Pureblood. The shaman knew very well what could be done with blood. Their eyes held hints of foreboding, perhaps cracks in the mask.

But not whether the danger he'd waded into was unexpected, or anticipated. Nor did his gaze linger on Azar and his sunshine eyes. No clue of anything more than a business relationship was presented. Nakoa was a dealmaker at the end of the day and his line of work put him in constant peril. A being as darkly powerful as Tempest was a first, of course, and perhaps not the last.

Singh stopped before the throne and, as required of the Lady Tempest's guest and petitioner, lowered their hood and knelt before it. His head raised slightly to speak. "Nakoa Singh greets Darth Tempest and so provides tribute."

Once the knife was allowed into his hands, he bared the skin of his arm and, with the ease of much practice, cut the flesh. Blood would be collected neatly in the small bottle with the Force before both were proffered back to the Dark Lord.

@Altaris @Sreeya @Hastur

 

[Karys]

Cremek’s final moments were agonizing, as all traitors should be. Karys was unbothered by this. Those foolish enough to turn their back in the Sith have earned their doom. The only movement Karys had was to lift a hand when blood flying his way. He would cause it to pause momentarily before splattering to the floor and likely coating some of his peers in viscera. He liked this outfit, he wasn’t about to stain treat Cremek’s blood from the cloak.

However, once it had been done and Azar moved to approach the Dark Lord, Karys looked around. He saw many familiar faces, Anai, whom he gently brushed the mind of to simply say hello. Ayomi with her apprentice. Caer and his apprentice, who he was fairly certain was in love with Azar. And Cyutadakyr, who approached them and spoke.

Karys’ golden eyes widened as the Dark Lord began addressing Singh shortly after Cyu had finished talking. Was that a sincere congratulations? Was it backhanded? Was he about to receive a knife in the gut for what he’d done to Param? More importantly, why hadn’t he already?

A thousand questions swirled in his head, but he spoke none of them. He wouldn’t be the one to interrupt this exchange. He had gained favor for his willingness to act and knowing his place. He wouldn’t taint that here and now. Once Singh had given the Dark Lord his blood, Karys would return his gaze to Cyu.

<Drown? I am unworried Master Cyutadakyr.> He replied cooly. <I can live up to any expectation placed upon me.> He stated with a faint grin. <Can you claim the same?> Came his final retort, it was only partially a joke.

No challenge left unanswered.

His gaze would shift from Cyu, to glance back at his apprentice. He gave Vossari a nod of approval. “You did well, apprentice.” He stated in a neutral tone. “When we are released, you can go a mingle with whomever you desire.”

Karys knew that wouldn’t be the case. Vossari had just gone from unnoticed, to one of the most desired apprentices in the Order. They would likely both be swarmed with will wishes and faux smiles. Other Sith might even try to claim him as theirs now, to take a part of Karys’ powerbase. He’d have to defend it if so, he’d have to crush any who tried to snatch his apprentice from him.

@Sreeya @Altaris @Xorism @Fine Dining Set @Versok @René @LouJoVi @Akheron

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Nakoa? That Bounty Hunter from Nar Shadda used to be a Sith? That explained a lot, but raised so many questions. No matter. As long as he was loyal to the Dark Lord, all else was irreverent.

Vossari beamed beneath his helmet when Cyu approached. He felt her jealousy, her resentment. The mere fact that a Sith Master would stoop so low as to directly insult a mere apprentice…well, such pettiness had to be rewarded.

Vossari saw this as a part of a pattern. First Azar, then Karys, and now Cyu. All of them, at some point, were haters. But Vossari was tenacious and had a way to needle his way into people’s hearts. Azar now felt like something to him, Karys was beginning to respect him beneath the outward appearance of hatred he had cultivated.

Notice she only approached US and not Master Azar.

A thought shared telepathically with Karys. How easy it is to insult those who are your social lessers. Vossari had a long memory. They raised their index finger to their helm, indicating for Cyu to shush as the Dark Lord spoke. When her display was done, Vossari turned his helm to Karys,

“Do Purebloods always have to be so bitchy?” Helm cocked to the side to look at Cyu. “Or is it like a defense mechanism, when they feel threatened?”

He raised his beskar vambraces to jangle them in the air, metal clashing against his durasteel suit. “Maybe someday, if you work really hard, you’ll get your own pair, too, sweetie.”

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Cremek’s death was gruesome and messy, and he wondered which acolytes would be stuck cleaning up the viscera. There was a tense moment of pause as he wondered if Tempest would take his concerns as a slight against her authority. When she spoke, a slight hint of fear traced his thoughts, though he didn’t externally display it. She then went on to value the counsel, speaking to protect their collective assets. This was exactly why Azar followed her - Tempest had visions of a faction where she would seek counsel of her closest advisors. That was the kind of thinking that ensured the survival of a group like this.

He gave a bow and stood next to Tempest as requested. His gaze briefly flicked up towards his apprentice. He didn’t miss that he was here standing next to the Dark Lord while Cyutadakyr (@Xorism )- his supposed equal - was hovering around the Champions and Acolytes. Azar had yet to spot a gathering where she didn’t buzz around Karys like an errant mosquito. Nor one where Karys didn't do the same in turn.

‘Stand with me, apprentice,’ He would telepathically tell Freyja (@LadyRen ). As her failures would reflect poorly on him, so too would his prestige extend to her. As his apprentice, her place was right next to him and by the Dark Lord herself.

Azar kept his gaze trained forward as Nakoa was made to march through the group of Sith. Groups of people he had abandoned in their hour of need. The Pureblood kept his personal thoughts on Nakoa aside, his face impassive as he watched the Wrean close the distance and supply the blood. He remained skeptical of any deal Nakoa could offer - he had no means of speaking for Apex when it was an entity driven entirely by external demands. Nakoa could not make a single promise on behalf of the company. The only choice Nakoa had was complete submission to Tempest. Azar wondered if Nakoa realized that.

“I will ensure the apostate remains firmly bound to his duties,” Azar said to Tempest without a single hint of emotion bleeding into his tone.

@Altaris @Mr. Teatime