Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
There were two factions within one. The mighty Sith Council had a vast chasm between ideologies. When influence was given to everyone, it was abused by many. Instead of an iron fist that offered, or enforced, order throughout the galaxy, there was conflicting interests. Minor disputes within the Sith nation lead to a stark division. One side practiced brutality, the other politics. One side subtlety, the other perfect savagery.
“Needless to say, there is some disunity,” Monnik muttered, half just to vocalise his thoughts, but half to inform the assistant who followed in his wake.
“Handy discontent, m’lord?” offered Myron Blacke, a little disinterestedly, as he marched after Lord Monnik.
“If all goes well,” the Sith sighed as he pushed open the broad doors to the council chamber with a trick of The Force. “One can only hope.”
He strode through into the space, stepping onto the round dais in the centre of the room. The Council Chamber was round-based and beautifully decorated in the ancient Sith manner. Stone likenesses of imposing figures of times long past peered down to the proceedings with life-like interest from their places half-cast in the stone walls. Although the chamber was underground, sunlight streamed through the top to cast eerie illumination in the room, the colours distorted by pigmented glass at the top of the spire-like construction. Only the very top of the building suffered the harshness of Korriban’s weather. The rest of the room was happily buried.
“You’re better to leave now,” Monnik told the thug who stood in the doorway. Without a word, Myron left to return to his assignment aboard The Formosus.
Within minutes, the room would be filled with those amongst the order who cared to attend. It was a rarity that the entire Sith cohort be allowed, and even invited, to be present in the Council Chamber.
Domovoi Erebos took his seat, one of those of seniority closest the central dais. He took the time alone to slump lower into the seat, reflecting on what was likely to unfold. The atmosphere was already tense, as it was in all Sith affairs of the moment.
His hand strayed across to the seat beside him and his fingertips lightly touched the place where Sophie would be sitting. He didn’t pretend to himself that he didn’t need her there. In terms of negotiation, she had a decisiveness that he felt like he was beginning to lack. She would seize whatever control she could and his faith in her politically was absolute. He drew his hand away again and refocused. He couldn’t rely on anybody here for political support, and certainly not emotionally.
He stared across at the seat that was usually host to Darth Maleficus who raised the crimson banner highest. A monster who thrived only in suffering and whose greatest aspiration in life was to have people lock their doors and lie awake at night. He opposed the idea of a silent invasion, preferring instead to personally inflict suffering on a population until it would submit. Chandrilla was his idea of a failure. So little blood was spilled. Darth Maleficus was not a smooth negotiator.
Soon the room would be filled and the proceeding could commence. Whether that was to be a good thing or not would be decided soon.
Sith Master Angel of Death Face of Evil
Posts: 7185
(9/4/07 9:21 am) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Maleficus pushed open the great doors and walked into the room, nodding respectfully to the great statues on the walls then to the other master before taking his seat. He was very glad that this meeting would be taking place, even if he would rather just do what he knew was best rather than have to argue. What he lacked in linguistic skills, he made up for in passion and understanding of his own ideas. He found it somewhat difficult to understand the ideas of others if they opposed his own and found the thought of synthesis to be a weakening of his original thesis.
No matter what the outcome of the meeting, he would continue doing what he was doing. Either they would start working with him or they could continue spending their time trying to hide his work, there would be no compromise.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The disgruntled little girl sat just outside the gates of the temple, inhaling the harsh aroma of Korriban firsthand. The child had known of the meeting, if she had never been formally told. She was in debate at the moment, the child had only existed in their world for only a few days, and she felt mightily inadequate to sit in on the Masters' meetings. She could not yet even call herself a Sith: she carried no lightsaber, "shiny stick" she had arrogantly called it once, and only once; and something so simple as a push using the Force was difficult for her except in the rarest stages of her most uncontrollable anger, which usually required provocation to achieve. She pulled the hood of the black robe over her head, the wind whipping harsh sounds into her ear. The robe was nothing special, black linen cut from an old drape with a hood sewn crudely on top for her own purposes, whatever a child might have for seclusion or hiding, she had yet to inform the Knights and Masters. She felt the tense aura of the event pulsing through her blood, but her skill so unrefined she blamed it on her own anxiety, wanting to learn and hear but not to intrude. These weren't children's affairs anyway.
The girl pulled her only weapon from under her sash, a tiny dagger that could maybe shank an infant or a toddler, but wouldn't do much good against any well-armed, well-trained adult, and started flipping it end over end. At first glance it was an act of sheer boredom, but everyone would know the girl was in integral debate. She sighed a lonely sigh and, in the most demure gesture she had made in a week, sat her chin on her knees and closed her eyes, confused beyond words over her newfound reality.
Darth Fenris Sith Master Lord of Chaos
Posts: 500
(9/4/07 10:38 am) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Next to arrive was Fenris. He strode directly to his own seat, boots sounding a metallic clink with each step. Unlike Maleficus before him, he afforded no attention to the frozen faces of Sith Lords past, their legacy of stone doing nothing to inspire awe or respect in him. He had been raised and trained by a man who took a decidedly irreverent stance on the Sith of past centuries. As a consequence, he too invested little faith in dead men. His fealty lay with something that could not be enshrined in stone. Its brand – the Mark of Adonai – burned proudly and irrevocably on his skin.
At Fenris' heels, Adrasteia followed. As he sat down, she took her place standing at his left hand. Identical talismans, made from an obsidian crystal whose shifting centers seemed as piercing as an eye, hung at their throats. Although they did not yet speak, the restless darkness that surrounded and permeated their bodies was as clear a statement as any to the stance they would take in this fateful meeting...
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
As she moved within the great rotunda of the Sith Council Chambers, a shaft of crimson light, the effect of the colored glass gracing the heights above, shone down, casting it's touch upon her face. The voices of those long dead seemed to whisper to her from the carved monuments of eons past. A mockery of their reasons for being here today. The same old arguments that had been raised between members of the faction before, had never truly been settled. In their echoes she could hear some arguing that their ways should be kept silent, herding the weak to do their will without revealing their true intentions. Others rebuked the notion that they should live their lives in the shadow, keeping their vast power and might hidden. The galaxy was their own for the shaping and the weak would not stand in their way.
In that instant, the Dark Prophet, Adrasteia felt yet another of her premonitions. There would be much dissension among her brethren soon. A great rift would be formed and the ideals of two opposing sides would once more create discord among the whole. Their enemies could use this disunity, to strike at them, the spirits were warning her. Above all they had to remain powerful, strong and without the weakness that pity for the lessor minded would create.
They were Sith. Edited by: Lady Razielle at: 9/4/07 11:06 am
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The Governor of Coruscant, Maize Wayne, stormed in with an entourage in his wake. Ever-disgruntled with the Sith Order since its merger, the Sith Master had felt he had been exiled to Corsucant rather than seeing the opportunity as a promotion in its own right. It didn't matter that he enjoyed being well away from Korriban and the other Sith. But now, he'd come back to the Sith homeworld because it seemed so sort of important meeting was to occur and his presence had been requested.
Garbed in his usual Corellian attire, though with a midnight cloak over his shoulders, Lord Thanatos scowled as he entered the chambers. He greeted no one present and took a position along the wall where he could see everyone who would attend reasonably well.
Let's get this over with so I can get out of here, he thought.
Ambivalent One
Sith Knight
Posts: 177
(9/4/07 11:59 am) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Such dissention was a pure disgrace, a path of the weak and foolish; Raine had not been apart of such a demise. In her years -though they were not many, since she was still young yet-, had she seen such fool-hardy ways concerning this path of life. Even her own family had known where the line must be drawn between political endeavours and blood righteous war. A refined brow lofted in intrigue as thoughts of an all out war broke free within her mind - sights and sounds echoing of the events about to ensue. There would never be a union amongst them all, for there were many who did not live up to the true nature of their brethern. It would matter not, for one way or another, they would be purged.
It was rather unsettling when Raine was among the order, for she felt securely out of place especially in this era of time. Her former Master, Emryc, had done well to cleanse most of the radical ideals and beliefs of her family. Although, her Marzullo blood ran deep and with that so did her thrist for conquest and absolute annihilation of those who bastardized the beliefs of the true Darkside. Leisurely harboring into the room, the young Marzullo had not paid heed to the statues displayed about. She had no need to give respect to those who had no bearing on her ancestory or into the woman she was forming into. There were other guardians, those of her netherworld relatives, her god Sol and her goddess Integra. They were the ones who breathed the life into her.
Ambling further into the domical room, the young Marzullo had made way for a place not directly within the line of attention. Azure orbs leered about as she jotted down mental notes. Raine had yet to be within the presence of those currently here, but she knew very well who they were. Bluish lips thinned as she had almost yearned for her father to have been here. Shaking the thought from existance, Raine reclined and lazily crossed her arms about her chest. Divided, they would eventually fall...
Edited by: Raine Marzullo at: 9/4/07 12:03 pm
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War"Korriban..." the Governor of Byss spat.
How he loathed the planet. All for what it once held. The Regnum's old rivals in the Dark Side. His place was Ziost. His place was Byss. His place was Coruscant. Not Korriban. So why was he here? A council meeting had been called. As a member of the council, he was required to be there. It was his duty, like running Byss. Damien could handle things in his absence. The Coruscanti Noble seemed to possess the same fire Sophie did.
Wearing Sky's cloak, the black fabric flowed around him. Underneath, he wore a pair of black pants, and boots. His chest was exposed, showing the three scars that ran down his olive skin. Black splatters were found on his smooth skin as well. The blood from Sky's dagger had seemingly stained his skin. The scars he received upon being granted the rank of knight consisted of the hssiss claw marks that ran down his chest and a lightsaber burn on his shoulder.
The scars from being granted the rank of master were purely mental.
Dropping the hood, yellow eyes looked at the council room. A light sneer fell upon his lips. It seemed that knights and apprentices were invited to the soiree as well. Just why had he come here? Perhaps it was to fuel the chasm that seemed to form within the Council. Perhaps it was to save the Council. Perhaps it was just to see Sophie. Whichever the case, the young master stood behind his chair, not wanting to take a seat.
Sith Apprentice Angel in disguise walking though the fire
Posts: 235
(9/4/07 2:01 pm) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Phoebe had heard about this meeting from her family who tried desperately to control her here. It drove her up the wall but it didn’t matter, her name was well known so she knew more than she wished about the troubled sith. However, the sith apprentice decided to make an appearance at the meeting. It was always good to be informed on these kinds of things.
She took a seat in the back by herself hoping that maybe Tempest would show up or even her siblings. It would do no good to be on her own if a fight broke out. Sighing she looked around the sith council room. She had never been in it before and was rather beautiful too bad she had to come see it in such grave circumstances.
Sith Knight Molior's Hand
Posts: 209
(9/4/07 2:26 pm) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Empty halls greeted Jehovah as he stepped through the Temple's main entrance. Disagreements and arguments had plagued the members of the Sith Council for months, squabbles concerning every aspect of every situation and action. Such disunion enraged the young Knight, though there was little he could do. Despite having little reservation in speaking up in the affairs of his outranking comrades, he rarely did so. Today was different, however; the Dark Lords had spoken to him.
He was clad in black from head to toe, a thin cloak covering his Sith armor in its entirity. Deep gray eyes remained hidden in the shadow cast by the hood, which hung low over his head. His boots made little noise as he tread down the corridors, one destination in mind.
Oddly enough, as he strolled calmly through the grand doors of the Council Chamber, the young man's thoughts drifted from the inevitable battle of words and idealogies that was to take place. He found himself wondering of Phedre, his valkyrie of darkness. She would be joining him soon, her current location more than likely in the large quarters they shared within the Temple walls. Although unsure of her position on the matters at hand, he assumed her to fall in alignment with her master, Lord Fenris. Luckily, the views of the elder Sith were very similar to his own.
Nodding to his brethren, an act much less formal than the normal bow, Jehovah quietly took an empty seat near the followers of chaos, the worshippers of the Unspoken. He had little need for the religion in his life, but often found himself in agreement with the loose principles they considered important. The chair next to him was empty, and would remain so until Phedre arrived.
The tension in the air could be not ignored. There was much at stake here, and if certain tempers were pushed too far, things could very quickly become disastrous.
Easily amused and determined
to understand it all.
Posts: 76
(9/4/07 3:19 pm) Reply
| Edit
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Entering with the entourage of Lord Thanatos was his latest apprentice, Shakti. Technically she was no longer formally his student, but more and more Shakti was discovering that she had nowhere else to go. There was no one else who could offer her the support and opportunities like the Waynes could, and no one else had any reason to try. Not last on her mind was the growing certainty that her master was right, that most of the "good" Sith were simply not worth her energy.
In keeping with Maize's comparatively informal attire, Shakti had opted for something casual as well. It was vaguely disrespectful, she knew. In a place so steeped in Sith history and tradition, a fledgling knight ought to have more regard for her betters. However, Maize's annoyance was encouraging to Shakti because it meant that her own impatience might not be so unreasonable after all.
Chose better than I knew, Shakti thought, reflecting on how picky she'd been on the subject of a master. Found someone who gives me an excuse to be pissy.
As she pulled her datapad from the pocket on her thigh, she held the stylus between her teeth and waited for someone important to begin expressing opinions. Even if she didn't speak up during this meeting--an unlikely prospect for a loudmouth like Shakti--she would at least learn where everyone else stood, and that mattered. She'd learn who thought like she did and who among them cared little for anything beyond their own right to push old ladies in front of speeders.
Edited by: Darth Shakti at: 9/4/07 3:27 pm
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Daritha's mask was different from the usual mask of the ancient plays. That fit battles, where the wicked over exagerated smiles and frowns proved very useful in confusing an opponent. Here there was an atmosphere that required him to be serious, and while confusion could be useful in this batch it would not. Instead he wore a deep black sheet over his face, just enough to keep his face hidden.
As he walked towards the meeting room, the room that he had once ruled over, he thought about the situation. A lot of the policies in place that were under question were adaptations of ones that he had put in place many years ago. Treating the citizens of their planets well enough to make them prefer them in many ways. Trying to improve the planets as much as possible in order to improve the quality of life for their citizens and increase revenue. It was well known that happy people were much more productive.
Still this did not keep Daritha from having leanings for more violent courses of action. Violence was just as great of a motivator as happiness, and when it was as threatening as the Sith were it made it all the more viable tactic. Making them afraid to not be productive was just another way to make them produce even more than was required.
Daritha was torn, then again he still was not even sure if he truly needed this Order intact. Either side he could work with to his own means. United it was a bit more useful but it could also make things harder on him. Decisions... why must there be decisions...
Finally he reached the council room and threw the door open and he could hear the iron doors bang against the black marble that made up the walls. The dark blue side cape flowed as he walked, revealing the silver emblem of the Dark Sith Order on it. He did not hide his old allegiance, it would be foolish to, for it was well known that he still favored the old Order. He would not be surprised if people expected him to begin a split, he knew that there were still those within the new Order that would gladly fallow him, only having left for this Order because it seemed that it was the thing to come. Traitors all of them. But what does that make me? Beneath his mask he smiled, An exploiter, that is all.
He took his seat at the inner table, it was no where near the seat of power that he had held before. It troubled him that it was not. He put both of his arms on the table, his right was clad in a black alchemicaly forged guantlet, his left covered in the ever growing Mark of Darkness. He found that both showed two completely different sides, the right the side of combat and an iron fist, and the left a side of deep thought and politics. Interesting how that is...
Sith Knight The Wykydtron
Posts: 70
(9/4/07 5:37 pm) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
He assured himself that he had a place at this meeting-- that as a Sith he deserved to be present. Darth Trucido cared little for politics, in fact, he found the very idea that any group of people, particularly Sith, could convince another group with a differing view of anything laughable. Decorated speeches and debates would not solve anything. The ruling force in the galaxy was, simply put, force.
Trucido threw the heavy doors to the Council Chambers open, his white robes swirling about his ankles as he crossed the room. His sullen expression did not flicker as his blue eyes traced the looming effigies that were frozen in the walls. Men and women long dead, none of whom could offer anyone anything anymore. Trucido held little fondness for the living, and even less for the departed.
Wordlessly he found a seat across the room from Darth Monnik and sat, content to watch as the events unfolded. There would be no peace agreement made here. This chamber would be the womb from which a war was born, and then Darth Trucido would see if these politicians were as handy with a lightsaber as they were with their precious words.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The darkness choked the last ounce of remorse for anything that had happened to the galaxy long ago, causing the Sith Knight to spiral into virtual insanity, his only aspiration in life was to brutally kill the entire galaxy, not only for what it did to him, but because the Sith Knight was insecure, always afraid of what was to happen next, who was watching him? Who was hunting him? Who was after his head? All of these questions echoed in the vile actions that the Knight committed regularly. Most of the time, Derrek wouldn’t give the Council a second chance. But this time was different, he knew that the Sith had called all of their members together for a reason. Darth Zykhan would honor their wishes if only to see them destroy themselves as conflicts would arise…as they always did.
Dark orbs, devoid of caring stared onward into the expansion of nothingness called space, to Zykhan it was a blight upon the galaxy, but to Zykhan the galaxy was a blight upon him. And all in all he knew that the galaxy would have to destroy itself to be rebuilt and people to learn that he was all powerful. Golden skin rested uneasily against the skeleton that made up the Sith Knight. His only means of support seemed to be the cane made from the coral of Glee Anselm that he harvested himself to use for the cane; it was infused with the darkness. A single long, slender tentacle that extended from the first of two fingers that rested on his right hand. The long body part swirled around the cane two to three times, holding it still as he waddled around using the cane for a balance.
The other arm, a fair amount shorter held something truly grotesque on it, instead of a hand at the end of the arm like there should be- a claw rested. Infused onto his body using the Dark Side of the Force, he willingly let his body be exposed to these mutations, to him a sign of his willingness to be a Sith, to everyone else it seemed to be a monstrosity. Now Zykhan couldn’t go anywhere without being spotted by guards, Jedi, and just normal civilians. But it mattered not because the Nautolan Sith Knight was either there to kill them all or to destroy them. And to the Knight, the growingly angst Jedi were a cause of panic to the galaxy more so than a crazed Sith Lord. The single hat that rested atop the crown of the amphibious Lord, a prop not used for anything except the menacing effect it had on people.
Sifting through the filters of space, slowly reaching the surface of Korriban, the Sith home world that held many secrets of the ancient Empires and the present. Many times had Zykhan perched his nest upon the desert world and called it home as he trained through the ranks. And many times had he left, in search of his home world, Glee Anselm. Now that he had become the dictator of the aquatic world he made a permanent residence there with his subjects.
Slowly the ship plotted its course for the large hangar which encompassed many of the other Sith’s personal vessels. The dark eyes which blazed with the death of all they saw swam through the dust that was kicked up by their landing. The lack of retina made it seem as though the Sith was blind, and in a way he was. The lost vision was nothing to the sights that he saw in his own world, the Force drawing the images with color and vivid detail. It was as though he was seeing without the Force.
Footfalls echoed as he entered the room, seeing his fellow Sith in the chamber made him quiver with anticipation as he strolled over towards the Sith Master, Maleficus. This Sith Master saw the galaxy the same way that Zykhan did: exposable. But the separate faction of Sith, the negotiators, the poets, the politicians that decided to rule without an iron fist made the Lord furious. Could they not see that the galaxy needed the strong will of the Sith to flourish?
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil WarCoruscant
On board the observation deck of the Raven, Darth Animus sat and watched the stars roll by while taking in the delight of a sweet berry wine. He leaned back in his chair and smiled as a leutenant stepped onto the deck.
"My Lord ... you know of the gathering on Korriban?"
"I do. Lord Thanatos is there."
"Then ... begging my lord's forgiveness ... why are you not there?"
Animus swiveled the chair and smiled to the leutenant. "Because Lord Thanatos is there, which would make my attendance redundant. Because there are enough there who would joyously see me dead. Because all such a meeting would do is to bring vast tensions to a head. Because once such tensions are released, the result will be catastrophic.
"... and because while all the vastly important ever-so-superior ones gather together to bicker and argue; somebody has to mind the store."
Even as he did his best to look official, Animus could feel the relief in the leutenant - the lord he served was not one to stick his nose in a hornet's nest. "But my lord ... if what you say is true: surely a contingent will come here."
Animus turned back to the stars. "We have the Griffin, the Chimera, and the the Venator squadron. If we can hold our own, we will stay. If not; what we have is powerful enough to ensure a hasty exit to a more secure location." Animus had no delusions when it came to honor or nobility. Neither resulted in a warm bed the way that having a solid sense of priorities did, and dead men had a terrible time ruling the galaxy.
Let the Sith Council fracture itself. He would have a fine time cleaning up the pieces.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The thin, silver drink wand clinked in a steady rhythm against a glass’ inner curve as it stirred. Besides that sound, there was only the muted rustling of Felicity’s dress jacket. The blue, taffeta sleeves crinkled as she worked.
The room in which Lady Maurow and Miss Sormier were hiding was sparsely furnished and lit only by a shoulder high, pane-less window. Its’ ledge was caked with a thick coat of sand, as was the floor beneath it. In the world beyond, there was more sand... miles of it... and ragged, blade-like pillars of Korribanian rock. Sophie turned back to the forgotten chamber, the red stone table and trio of matching chairs. It was in all ways unimpressive, but at least it was quiet place to collect her thoughts.
The Lady paced, crossing her arms and holding her elbows, as Sormier poured pouch after pouch of glittering powder into the water and mixed; vitamin supplements to help soothe the nervous system, prescribed by Dr. Daws on Byss. In actuality, they did little more than make the liquid sheen with clouds of colored iridescence. Turn a glass one way and see flash or red... hold it to the light and behold a bright burst of violet. The tonic soothed nothing, but Sophie drank it without protest. It made her servants feel useful, and their placated minds gave the Mistress peace.
A scant morsel of peace, anyway. No matter, Sophie savored all she could. Ever since Coruscant, the Force had been flooded with viperish whispers. Dissatisfaction and resentment festered in the connected consciousness of the Sith. Now that she was on Korriban, the repugnant thoughts hissed louder, teemed inside of her. She felt the feral auras of the war-hungry.... violent outrage... cruel sicknesses that ached to be exercised...
The bile of her brethren surged through her and panic made her heart throb. They were all devils, it was futile to deny such a truth, but there were dark creatures different from her, in essence and in ideology. Perhaps they would spark a revolution of sorts, and the newly unified nation would change course and de-evolve into a frenzied collective of beasts. It was possible that the delicate harmony of manipulation, assimilation and control she advocated would die that day so that savagery could reign.
The Sith at last had the might to break the cycle of ascension, glory and defeat. It was impossible for a galactic empire to survive when its overloads blinded themselves with animalistic lusts: blood, pain and pride. The indiscreet and craven invited chaos and challenges to their crowns... couldn’t they see the folly of their impulsive desires? Didn’t they want what she wanted?
Did they? Did anyone?
“Gods.” Sophie’s knees felt weak. She touched a nearby chairback and sunk into the seat. It was an oppressive epiphany. Everything she believed in... was she alone in those beliefs?
“My Lady?” Felicity asked, quite concerned. The Mistress failed to answer. Her thoughts were far away.
Ophelia was staying at court for the season on Alderaan... ‘perfecting her curtsy’ as Sophie would often remark with a chuckle. After the attacks on Coruscant and Byss, the girl felt safe again. There were orchards were the youths played, tranquil lakes as big as seas and genteel people with artful ways who dedicated their lives to the study of grace. She was flourishing and she was happy there, away from the mayhem of the Force wars and politics. Sophie would visit often, but when the time came to leave, the child sobbed behind her smile.
... Stay here... why can’t we stay here?...
...I am building something better, love...
“My Lady?” The young Coruscanti asked again. She had crept up to Sophie’s side without her notice, “Your drink?” Sormier’s face was so soft and affectionate as she offered the glass. Her wide, dark eyes seemed pained with care, “It is so dry here. For your voice... I suspect you will be speaking a great deal.”
“Yes.” Sophie said, accepting the shimmering tonic. She sipped it as she stood, realizing she had lingered too long in the luxury of solitude, “I suspect I will.”
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
As more bodies filed into the room, Monnik gazed around impassively. Already a physical weight of bodies was forming, and deliberately was one side of the room heavier than the other. Monnik’s eyes wandered over the faces of the majority of the Sith assembly so far.
Senselessly blood-thirsty, his mind spat as he regarded them. There was no foresight in them. In any true sense of the word, they were more Sith than the kind that Monnik favoured. They were the ancient Sith, the old way. And, as history indicated with insufferable clarity, they were the ones that brought the temple toppling down. But when the Sith were but a shadow of their potential, there was always a great wielder of The Force to raise them again. Even the ancient ones seized power with subtlety and manipulation with raw force to support them. It couldn’t work the other way. Prosperity was unattainable without the proper use of cleverness over appropriate might. Unnecessary vigour was what the Sith practiced. And it was no wonder they were dissatisfied if they couldn’t see the worthy master plan, the future that hung right in front of them, drawing them forward. They were like Jedi. They were blind.
It wouldn’t be long now. The Council chamber was nearing its full capacity with the invitation of the whole faction. Today would be a day of pivotal significance to the Sith. It could bring the Sith to further brilliance, or it could be a crippling blow. Soon it would begin. The test of the Sith nation. Not in martial ability, but in unity and strength of mind first. The chance to show raw brutality could come usefully later. It was in the anticipation of the kill that the hunter is most deadly, not when it thoughtlessly laps its fill.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
A flutter of white robes heralded the Sith Knight's approach, his two Apprentice's a respectful step behind him and standing shoulder to shoulder as they moved through the Sith Temple, the billowing of his robes revealing the ivory hilt of his double ended lightsaber. The Council Chamber was reaching capacity as he arrived and the doors were slowly closing, a slight wave of his hand held them in place until he and his escort had entered as he didn't much fancy having to creak them open and slip in at the back.
This was something that Talon had sensed the coming of for a long time, ever since the merger of the old Sith factions, the more agressive teachings of the old Dark Sith Order conflicting with the more complex and subtle ethos of Sine Occasu, of which Talon was most certainly of the latter breed. Had it not been for his swift thinking and silver tongue, than he would certainly have not seen the end of his first day as a Sith.
Talon found a place to sit, flanked by his two Apprentice's, the albino twins under orders to remain completely silent. His emeralg green eyes scanning the room to identify those who would be his allies in this meeting, strange that his nemisis Darth Monnik should number amongst them, though perhaps not so strange as the two men were for all their hatred of each other, very much alike. Then of course there was Sophie, much he had learnt from her in the more subtle of Sithly arts.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War"It seems most of the more notable beggars and thieves are in attendance," Maize murmured to Shakti.
What exactly he meant by that was really unknown. But it sounded good and likely had a measure of truth to it when looking upon the assembled Sith. His gaze followed Sophie Maurow's entrance, looking regal as ever. They'd not had occassion to speak for some time and he wondered how she was faring.
"I wonder what they're about this time?" he rumbled softly. "Any insights, Shakti?"
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
It had been in the air all week, the lingering scent of trepidation. Since the start of the week, Jacelyn had prepared herself by filling a small duffle bag with basic essentials. She had no plans to be present, not in mind and especially not in body when everything imploded. Jacelyn would not allow herself to become susceptible to anything.
While she wanted to encourage Tiara to come along with her, she made sure to have no personal part in influencing the choice she made. In silence, but in thought, Tiara knew that Jacelyn only wished but the best for her.
Yet it was Tiara's presence, and that of Ishta White, that kept Jacelyn still to linger within a place she had no true desire to be within at present.
With a quiet sigh, Jacelyn looked at the clock as she stood at the foot of her bed within the Temple, her mind counting time as she felt it continue to stand still.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The wind had blown it's final breath on Alice's waiting. The girl had seen enough passers-by to garner enough interest to overcome the doubt in her mind. The girl stood up and proceeded to the council chamber.
She pushed the door open quietly and tried to avoid the eyes of those around her, she was well aware that the new apprentice wasn't getting any protection on the basis that she was just a child, she had chosen to walk the Dark Path, and had been chosen by a breed that would slaughter it's young by its own hands before letting it limp into death at the hands of its enemies. She saw the statues of Sith she had never known and would never know, and held no faith in them. Faith for her came from one Sith and one alone, the Knight Terace. She did not revere the man as a god, that she was sure he was not. But he had decided to drag her into the Torrent as she had desired, and that alone put him in a status above mere mortals to the little child.
The girl was acutely aware that most, if not all of these Sith, both seasoned and new, were armed. She could sense, taste even, the dark aura in the room, and could feel the approaching storm pulsing through her veins. If the legacy of malice appeared as strongly to these as it had to Terace, then she was also sure that those that had not glanced up knew she was there too. Three feet of black cloth could stand as tall as the rest of them when that same yard was angry, confused, or tormented enough, and they all had set spaces in her mindset now, all were present, all were flowing with the uneasy and uncontrollable pace it had held since well before she arrived at the Temple. There were a few in the room she didn't yet recognize, and a few she had seen around the Temple in her short time here. She didn't know who played to whose likings here, the politics weren't of a sort she created. She wondered inwardly if that would protect the practically unarmed terror when the oncoming avalanche decided to spring free and fall. It didn't matter, she had stepped through the door to the Council Chamber, the risk she had chose to take, its consequences her own.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Korriban, there was no other world quite like it. That concentration of power and strength could never be seen in the worlds run by the erstwhile Regnum. They always had the desire to flaunt more than do, as if they were performers to some grand show. But here on Korriban, the ideals of the Sith and their teachings still ran strong. One of the primary reasons to return to the order was the fact that the new Sith Council had chosen to base itself in Korriban.
The true home of the Sith.
It was also the reason why he had come here today, to this summons. A summons made by a Regnum Master.
He sat quite alone. Quite aloof. Quite noticed. A crimson shadow draped over mail and plate. A leering mask of bone. Hallowed and haunted yellow eyes staring out of hollow sockets with a predator's glare. The chitter chatter around him was annoying, yet he knew it was a by product of gathering all who counted themselves the exalted Sith of the Order in one room. It could not be avoided.
Fools.
He glanced about and lowered his head in greeting to the only two faces he recognized and accepted as true Sith. Maleficius and Daritha. All in all, he was still engrained in his own past. Beneath a gloved fist his Mark of Darkness which had started as a small snaking tatoo had grown into a glove, a glove of jet ebon that covered his right hand from fingertips to elbow, itched of it's own violation.
It was growing.
Idly he stroked his right hand with his left, absent mindedly rubbing over the mark. The meeting had been called and it was about to begin.
Sith Acolyte Born of Darkness Life in Shadow
Posts: 52
(9/5/07 3:44 pm) Reply
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Like the wind, Tempest arrived silently, stepping into the room without looking to anybody. He was dressed in all black, not robes, just black clothes he had dyed himself. The sith made all his own clothing, he had learnt how to on Af'El when he had worked in a sewing sweatshop. He smiled as he recalled the memories. Back in the days where all the Teevan had wanted to do was bring absoloute fear down upon the whole populace.
And he did, perhaps not to the whole population, but to the criminal and illegal organizations, he was a shadow in the night that visited one of them frequently. Their deaths did not look pleasant, hanging somebody from their innards, the splatters of blood showing they were still alive when they were left out in the open, drowning in their wives bloods in the bath. Tempest was an artist in finding new ways to kill somebody.
This Civil War seemed to put most of the Sith on edge. The chance that their power may be comprimised would put most into a frenzy. Sith were naturally betrayers and schemers, killing each other off for reasons such as prestige, power or just because they wanted to. It was the way they were, and something like this was not surprising. No doubt, within the splitting factions was more factions, little gangs of Sith with similiar ideals or goals. And indeed, within each mind of the members of those Sith were their own little intricate plots. It was enough to make even Tempest shake his head in frustration. Complexity was perhaps the only word to describe the Sith.
Seeing Phoebe at the back, the apprentice slowly stepped forward and sat next to her. If it came to battle, he wanted to make sure he knew who he was fighting for. In honesty, he couldn't care less, trading one master for another, as long as they taught him the ways of the Sith, he would follow them. But Phoebe herself may have had a certain opinion on who to fight for, and so if it came that Tempest was killing her friends for the opposite side, awkward would not even begin to explain how he would feel.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Lavrae settled in a corner and examined the room quietly. There were so many minds, so many lines of Force, and so many conflicts of interest - it generated an energy unique to the galaxy. That energy was building like an exploding sun, and soon it would go nova.
... just as it happened before.
Lavrae had little regard for the latter Sith of the ancient orders, and particularly for the Sith Bane. He more than anyone depleted the Sith's strength by insisting that strength never be built upon. In this, however, he was correct: conflicts such as this one were to be avoided. The Sith had grown strong, but that strength was now working against the order. The Sith needed no other enemies - when the time came, they had always been their own most intractable foe.
Soon it would happen again.
He melted into the shadow; only his porcelain facemask showing any sign of his presence, appearing to float unsupported within the darkness of his cowl. He would observe, and do his best not to interfere for any side. Some of the Sith would need to conserve their strength through the coming violence if the order as a whole was to survive.
Easily amused and determined
to understand it all.
Posts: 80
(9/5/07 5:48 pm) Reply
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Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
Shakti shrugged with one shoulder. "From one point of view it's kind of stupid. You have two parties. One wants to use diplomacy to get their way, and the other likes to be openly brutal whenever possible. The trick is..." She tilted her head. "The brutal ones have attended a diplomatic conference... to use diplomacy... to convince the diplomats their way is pointless." She sighed. "And the diplomats think they can reason with people who insist words are pointless."
She looked over to Maize, curious about the depth of his scorn for this gathering. Was it the other Sith, the location, the topic of discussion or the inevitable conflict that would result? Quietly she told him, "There'll probably be a fight. Not from the diplomats, not unless they think that the brutal ones are going to endanger something they're working for. The ones who just want to spread chaos, though? Meh. I'm surprised they aren't cracking skulls already. But that's just me. Maybe I'm wrong," she finished with another shrug.
Re: Fragments of Faith - The Sith Civil War
The Dark Lord's caress had awakened her from her slumber, curled up amidst the silken sheets of the bed she shared with Jehovah. It called her, summoning her to wakefulness, bidding her without words to rise and ready herself. With a soft sigh, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced about the chamber, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the dim light.
With slow movements, she rose from the tangled warmth of the bed and padded into the nearby bathroom. Taking stock of her appearance, she ran her fingers through her waist-length curls, separating the lush silken strands and pinning them up. Several loose tendrils brushed her cheeks and shoulders as she applied a simple touch of gloss to her lips and darkened her lashes.
Leaving her silk shift in clothing basket, she padded out and stared into the closet, biting her lip. The tension that had been simmering through the Temple and her brethren at large had been fomenting, as she understood, since the mergance of the two Orders. Dissension would always be prevalent in their ranks, it was simply in their nature as Sith.
This meeting, however, depending on how brightly and wickedly tempers and powers flared, could herald a new era for the Sith. Or, as history taught, signal the end of their proud rule again. Phedre shook her head and pulled a length of crimson silk from the closet, her thoughts straying to her Master, and from there to the Unspoken.
Even she could feel his displeasure at the entire mess, though faint her senses were towards Him. An utterance of disgust at the matter passed her lush lips as she wrapped herself in the blood-dark silk, pinning it in strategic places. It left a delightful expanse of her flawless skin bare, exposing generous cleavage, a taut stomach and long, lean legs. With spiked heels on her feet, Phedre summoned her chains from their resting place in an open velvet-lined box.
The slender silverweave chains undulated through the air and wounds themselves snugly around her warm flesh. One settled around her neck, the other loosely at her waist, looking much like simple accesories to those who did not know them. Deeming herself ready, she felt Jehovah's mind touch and realized she was going to be late.
Her steps took her to the appointed chamber, the Force wrapped around her with a luscious feel. The silver embedded in her skin became more pronounced as she stepped inside, inclining her head to everyone before taking her seat at the table, beside Jehovah. A gentle touch of her mind to his was her greeting, and her eyes glittered and swirled with silver and onyx as she surveyed the room.
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