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Whispers carried through dark hallways....he's not like the other masters. His last pupil went mad...shouldn't be allowed to teach...the bogan knows best. Questioning his position is questioning the bogan...
Shadows dance on a wall as a single solitary blade rises then falls. Screams this time, not whispers. Mortificar has himself a knew plaything. A few of the other masters are nervous. They feel he can't be trusted. The shadows continue to dance...more screams, needles though this time...a click happens and the subject realizes he's not been hurt at all. The pain felt so real he searches his body no marks...no marks but the pain......was he hallucinating? A figure leans out of the shadows unseen cloaked in the force. Mortificar....more pain this time very, very real. Organs being squeezed. Confusion on your behalf. Laughter from the tormentor. Bright flash of lightening and all goes dark...no more pain. Only cold.
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More whispers though your never sure where from this time...He spends his life in the temples venturing out rarely. His skin was pale long before the dark side took him. Sadist. Scholar. Deadly. All these things describe the twisted man who's age is unknown. His skeletal body giving a frail impression only a fool would mistake for weakness. An obsession with occult aspects of the force lead to his fall. He saw the Ospion as a new branch of study, and when he left the jedi order he was hardly noticed gone, except by the librarians. Then the Ospion fell and yet again he saw a door. Perhaps his mind was warped before the fall or perhaps it happened during...no ones sure but when he surfaced again after being thought dead he was...changed. Be careful around him. I don't think even the other masters know what goes on in his head. The words of warning flow through your head as you wait, having rapt on the door three times now, not one to venture in unwelcome to the abode of one even your master fears.
Finally the door opens. A man draped in black robes decorated with bone spines sits at a long black granite desk, bookshelves line the walls and no bed is to be seen. Does he even sleep? he looks preoccupied with books spread out everywhere. Scrolls both ancient and some recorded on holodisk are on the walls, the floor the table... He turns and gives a smile, his eyes are bright yellow with red streaks his skin thin as the papyrus scrolls which he pours over and pale as one who hasn't seen the sunlight in decades. His eyes have dark circles around them from lack of sunlight and perhaps insomnia. He speaks quietly, though his voice is cold, and it seems to echo from all directions to a startling effect.
"Can I help you young one?" He says, or you think he says. You didn't see his lips move and the sounds came from everywhere...he didn't even look at you to see your age. More confusion...as you register this confusion so does he, a grin unseen stretches across his face.
Your voice rings out, unsure now of coming here at your masters request. You nearly forget why your here...is that a human skull on his desk...didn't his last pupil go missing? You shake your head and take a breath of the cold air to calm your mind and ask for the scrolls your master wanted. He stands much more quickly than he should have. Mortificar is taller than expected...maybe 6'3. He reaches out a hand as though to pick something up. The requested items, 3 scrolls come from separate places floating before you proving he is a master in this room knowing where every last bit of information is stored. You quickly take them and leave as fast as you can hoping to not have to return.
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The future saw rise of a new Bogan, and a new Empire. Mortificar had little of it, he moved where he was told, and began anew in the old temple of the Ospion located in the heart-planet of the new empire. He studied deep within the temple for years, never taking on a new apprentice. Never saying much of anything, or doing much of anything. Only continuing to read, to practice. Occasionally someones apprentice went missing, screams would be heard deep within the bowls of the new temple, a body would never be found and yet somehow the bone spines on his robes, the bits dangling about like jewelry always seemed to never grow brittle or sometimes they even looked...fresh.
One day, he simply began functioning again. Well, more so than he had been. Whatever dark secret he sought, it seemed he found it, which was a terrifying thought, really. It set the other masters on edge. Then he began to go out to the new empire, speaking of things. Religious things no less in this religion that was created with the soul purpose of dominating an empire set up with the Bogan themselves as gods....
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Groups of students stay safely away, but within listening distance as the instructor takes his place at the head of a 'class'. He had organized, without putting his name to it an offer in the temple to learn the secrets of the darksides philosophy, something that would, with proper study and knowledge live up to the lie presented by the Emperor of the darksiders as Gods to the people. Not so bluntly worded, no but the basic premise was there. And so the students gathered, and even a few curious crusaders who perhaps had to much free time. It wasn't until he revealed himself, having been cloaked in the force from all that the apprehension was felt.
He hadn't been seen for years, many thought him dead as before when the Ospion fell. Some began to message their masters over holopads and thus the crowd increased as did the apparent anxiety. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice echoing over the room.
"I see that my missives were well placed. Good good..." his cold voice rang out, the crowd silent. "The...Emperor..." he said the words as though they weren't right. He was still true to the ideals of the original cult and to him, those words would never be right. "Has declared us gods to the people on the planets we have now taken over. They worship us, they fear us. Fear is good. We can feed off of them, as they fear us, as they grow angry towards us when we dominate them, erase their culture. Anger is much the same in use...in time, some few of us could become powerful enough to be Gods." He said, smiling his decrepit smile.
"What I have found, is a way to transcendence. We grow stronger from the darkside. The darkside in turn growing stronger from us, our actions. IT FEEDS." he said the last words with loud imphasis, some of the weaker of the crowd shifted uneasily. "And as it feeds, it grows, and as it grows it gives us more power. In time, we transcend that which limits us. In time, we break the bonds that bind us. Through the darkside, we can be the Gods our emperor declared us to be."
He chuckled. "That is the first insight. Feed on the darkside, create pain, misery, anger, guilt, hate, malice. Stoke it like a fire keeping you alive in the coldest pitiful rock you can imagine in the galaxy. Do this, and you will become stronger."
"But the darkside is like a fire. It has been said before, by the former Bogan Jord many times. Ever consuming, ever burning. It's nature is destruction, it's will is dominance. If you truly wish to be gods, you must become one with the darkside. In doing so, you will take another step towards Godhood. Know that if you wish to obtain this power, you will cease to be. Only the darkside will matter. Only destruction. Only Dominance. The second insight is that to become a god, you must, in effect purge your self."
He paused a moment, fingers trailing over several bones on his robes. "Now you have purged yourself of weakness, leaving only dominance, destruction, and strength you must understand. You will not be the only one seeking Godhood. There will be a hierarchy. If you wish to challenge that hierarchy, you must be willing to kill, or be killed because that is the nature of the dark side. This is the third insight. Nothing comes without a price, if you fail, you die if you succeed no one shall live to oppose you."
"Having purged yourself of weakness, leaving only strength, destruction and dominance. Having exerted your dominance through your strength causing the destruction of all who oppose you, you will be a God. The force is everywhere, and as such the dark side is everywhere. Sometimes it is burried deep within the hearts and minds of those who would seek to oppose us, but it is there. Extract it, use it. Become one with it. In doing so, you will be omnipresent, and omnipotent. In doing so, you will be free."
He finished and as the words escaped his mouth he brought up his force cloak, vanishing from sight so perfectly that no one, even the other masters could see where he went. Fear swept over them, and staying true to his word, Mortificar smiled under his cloak as he became empowered by the growth of the darkside in the area from the imprint left of the fear, unease and in some cases even anger at his words radiating from those he had addressed.
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