Lords And Ladies

[Jenno]

(I’m still trying to get back into writing with Iniquitous so this will be a bit sucky. Also, this takes place after all the battles that are happening (and the one that has yet to happen) so consider it something of a small leap into the future, but not much. Like the last promotions, this is primarily for the Master level initiates who have been contacted already, but any observers are welcome.)

How long had it been since he’d last set foot in the Temple? A month? Yes, that seemed about right. He had been dragged away from the Order by his vision. Both he and Veratos had left without much of a word, but his former apprentices knew what the next step for the Order was. Before he had left the invasions had been planned, Rhen Var had been a particular focus of his. The Jedi now knew of their presence in all bloody detail. With the Order’s increasing size it was becoming more harmful for them to remain hidden, with this they would be able to move across the Galaxy with much more ease, and their open doors would be more widely publicized. That was something else he was planning, there were so many potential candidates for the Order and the Empire and now Iniquitous would be able to approach them with much greater ease.

Well, he would not approach them himself, his presence amongst the Sith as Dark Overlord was still unknown to the Jedi. He doubted it would be long until they uncovered his name at least, but there was no face to put to that name and with one of his latest creations they would know him only as a faceless figure. His experiments with ancient Sith alchemy and magics led to constant discoveries of new possibilities, he was still very much upon the learning path in that respect, but with his return there were a few ideas he wanted to bring to life.

His helmet was quite peculiar looking because the face was completely covered, blocking any sight from within. But this suited Iniquitous as he had lost the use of his eyes many years back and his vision came from a different means. But this was not the most peculiar thing about the helmet, from a force user’s perspective it was odd because not only was their sight blocked by the metal structure of the helmet, but their sight with the force was also blocked. The oozing armour of the dark side would not even allow a flickering look upon the face of the Dark Overlord. As its creator Iniquitous was impressed with the things he could achieve through alchemy, there was so much untapped potential with the technique; he doubted he would be able to uncover them all in this lifetime.

For now his discoveries in the area were not necessary or that important, but he did not doubt that soon he would be able to produce objects or even creatures that could severely damage the Jedi or the Republic. His continued research into the technique and skills of the lost order would be fore the betterment of his ideals and not only for the satisfaction of his curious mind.

But now he stood upon the darkening peak of the Sith Temple. In the distance the last glimmers of the sun were starting to fade. The usually devastating heat of Korriban had crept into the crevices of the broken surface, leaving a cooling and gentle breeze to whip at the cloak of the Dark Overlord. This planet and the temple he stood upon brought a comforting sensation to his veins, and not just because of the dark and powerful energy they paused into the surrounding. Out of all the planets in the known Universe, this was the one that felt most like home.

His lightsaber shook in the breeze; Iniquitous still had not ignited its blade for his cause. Soon he would get the opportunity to do so, but not quite yet. He supported a ceremonial lightsaber upon his person as well. It was something he had constructed for occasions such as the one he had planned for tonight and his return from the travels. His search was not over and no doubt he would venture out into the darkness of the unknown many times in order to discover what it was the Force was guiding him to. But for the time being Veratos would search on his behalf, the Dark Overlord trusted the man with a great task, one he would delegate to few others.

It had only been about an hour or two since his return and Iniquitous had wasted little time. He had sent a brief message to those he wished to see, requesting their presence upon the roof at a time that would allow him to at least become comfortable with his surrounding once again. No other invitations had been dispatched, but his presence upon the top of the temple would not go unnoticed and whenever he chose to linger around the area it was usually for a purpose which was worthy of dragging more attention to itself than he initially prepared. There was no doubt in his mind there would be visitors to see what this gathering was for, if it was meant to be private then it would be held in the Inner Sanctum, but this was a spectacle for the world to see.

So he waited, the hour was descending upon them with the darkness of the night. Those special Initiates who had arrived with the wisdom, knowledge and power of Masters would now take their rightful place within the Order. He had trained them before his departure and Darth Renata had informed him of their continued training under her guidance. They were ready to pass upon the word of the Sith and help the growth continue onwards by training more and more potential members. Iniquitous turned to face those who approached.

[Foxfire]

Once again Cho Wroth sat at the very fringe. Whether he was seen or not mattered little to him for he was still mulling over the fiasco that was subterrel. He killed his fair share of republic military it the futile attempt of the defense of Subterrel. He had finally meet the ones that very body called Jedi. What he saw in them though was lives that hovered on the line between darkness and non-existence.

He was not chosen for honors. What he was given was condemnation for losing. Many of the young ones, on his return, challenged him to duals to see how he could lose to Jedi so easily. They knew neither that he was out numbered 20 to 1 with three Jedi in the led and having various injuries due to fighting in the tunnels with sith hounds that turn upon him.

All Cho could do was lick his wounds and bide his time he would have his day even if he was the last Sith standing when this latest battle between the Jedi and Sith would finally come to it's dismal end. So waiting in silence he watched as the Over Lord waited for the newest Darth to arrive.

[Karl the Unfettered]

How long had it been since the Siege of Subterrel? Shard couldn't remember; he recalled rescuing Wroth from certain death, he recalled the Sith being ordered to retreat... but after that it was for the most part a blur, an exhausting spiral of feverish activity. All his ambitions rode on success within the new Empire; failure at such an early stage would not be tolerated. He had to make up for it, especially with their own promotions drawing very near.

Looma had been injured, yes; he remembered that much now. He had taken her to the infirmary, and... and what? By the Force, where was his memory? The Midnight Sun, some to-do among a returning crew of pirates- oh. Yes. That.

They had been overtaken by Mandalorians, forced into a prolonged combat, but had overcome the ferocious warriors and slaughtered them all. Naturally they had taken the cargo, among which were a number of long-bladed daggers; he had seized this prize and retreated to his private quarters, assigning Kurtz to watch over Looma as she recovered. As usual the bald, scarred, dour warrior had no complaint; no doubt the young Twi'lek had a bit of a fright when faced with the intimidating man.

That was furthest from his mind at the moment, however, as he slowly walked up the stairs to the top of the Temple. In his mind, secure from prying telepaths, he was furiously retracing the past span of time, trying to remember just how he had gotten here and why he was so mentally exhausted. He knew his projected Force presence would be uneven, somewhat sketchy, as it usually was after he had employed Art of the Small extensively for a protracted length of ti-

Hang on. What had he been doing with Art of the Small that required him to stay under so long?

Vaguely he felt about himself, looking for anything strange, and came across a long-ish knife of Mandalorian design. The scabbard was strange, however; the knife was suspended at the hilt, as if to keep the blade stiff and the edges from contacting anything else. Why would that be, unless the edge was so sharp it couldn't even touch th-

And then he remembered. He recalled everything about the past... however long it had been.

After getting back from Subterrel and attending to Looma, he had hastily informed the others he would be indisposed and they were not to contact him under any circumstances. Whereupon he returned to his ship and met with that incoming crew, heard about their exploits and took those knives. And then...

Ahh, ah ha. Such brilliance. Such sheer, mind-bendingly brilliant brilliance.

To experiment, to take a knife and narrow one's focus and Force presence down to where one could manipulate the very atoms of that knife, and rearrange it as one pleased! To reforge it, in essence, and create a knife with such an edge that the naked eye could not perceive it; one needed a high-powered microscope simply to look down the cutting side without getting a headache! A blade with an edge mere microns wide; it could cut through anything!

Naturally it was somewhat brittle at first; he had been forced to go through a couple prototypes before creating one that wouldn't shatter at the slightest touch upon the tang of the blade. It had been tricky; he'd had to separate the cutting edge wholesale, narrow it to the requisite extremes, then rebind it to the rest of the blade bit by bit. The trickiness came in how the edge was then so much denser than the rest of the blade, and the care he had to take so that he could finish the task and not maim or kill himself at the slightest disturbance.

He had only completed one usable weapon, and it was a truly frightful thing. Despite its small size it was of such sharpness it could pierce or slash neuranium; he could only enhance the point and one cutting edge, the opposite edge had to in fact be thickened very slightly to provide a strong backbone, for even though the edge was mere picometers in width the rest of the blade was not, and resistance (however slight!) was still to be found. That accounted for his exhaustion, so much time spent meddling with subatomic structures and ferro-crystalline physics he didn't really understand in the first place.

None of that mattered; shortly after completing the deadly thing and crafting a special scabbard for it he had been informed the promotions were happening that very evening! With little time to properly recover he had washed and changed, put the thing on his hip next to his regular weapons (silenced slugthrower, Echani saber, twin lightsabers) and went down planetside.

Now he walked up the stairs to the pinnacle of the Temple, his fellow Initiates at his side; there had been no time for explanations, no time to elaborate on the curious new addition to his kit. He wore his ceremonial robes, with the cortosis-quadranium alloy body armor as always beneath it; his glasses were polished, and they gave off glints in the fading sunlight of the day.

He hadn't the presence of mind to properly marvel at Iniquitous' new armor and helmet, although part of him noted it for later. "Initiate Sylvorr reporting as ordered, my Lord," he intoned formally, bowing to the Dark Lord and sinking to one knee. Beneath his robes, the Miraluka's body trembled very slightly, as much from anticipation as from mental and emotional exhaustion; months of effort and training were about to culminate, and he was more ready than ever.

[Cavalry King]

"My Lord, it is time."

"I am nearly finished here, make the preparations for hyperspace jump."

"Yes my lord."

Julius looked over at the three men sitting before him, bloodied, exhausted, and extremely terrified. Julius had been toying with them, their fates sealed the moment they were captured. Before him were men Julius considered enemies from each part of his life, one a traitor from his criminal organization, one a political opponent, and the other a Republic officer he captured on Subterrel. He savored these moments when he could torture his prisoners. He fed off of their fear, it made him stronger. He basked in it, lavished each moment, but the longer he waited the more he grew agitated at being able to complete the task. These men had been sufficiently brutalized, now Julius savored an end to them. There was something he needed to do first though.

Before his political rival he smiled, his eyes flickered amber, overflowing with cruelty and evil. From his crooked smile he said to the man, "It pains me to do this, truly it does. Perhaps in another life we could have been as brothers." With that he stood over the man, his eyes grew large, violent, and burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. Dark energy flickered around him as he began to force his way into the man's mind and ripping out the information and memories Julius found useful. This was a most painful process for the one whose mind was being violated. He flailed about and screamed as his mind was invaded, but to no avail. After a few moments it was over, the man slumped over crying begging for a quick death. Julius clicked his teeth making quick tskt sounds as if he was scolding a child. "Unfortunately that is not possible. Know that your death will not be in vain... it will go to making me stronger. Ha!"

With that Julius raised his hand towards his victim and began to slowly drain what force was in this mans body out of it along with his life force. He was careful to extract very little to prolong the process. The man was not strong in the force at all and all the torturing had left him with very little life to take so the process was shorter than Julius had hoped for. No matter, two more to go...

Julius' ship touched down on the sands of Korriban. Once the landing ramp had opened, a stream of troopers emerged and lined the sides of the ramp before Julius' exit. Once he had passed the last man the troopers turned to follow beside Julius and behind him. There was little need for such security measures here but Julius was always on guard and always wanting to make an entrance. Today he still donned a mask that covered his face, only now it was much more ornate. It had a black and crimson design that followed throughout the highly glossly armor he wore. In the blazing Korriban sun, it glistened giving him an impressive figure. His men were similarly donned in their best.

Julius made his way to the roof, he bowed from the waist to the Dark Lord and nodded respectfully at those already in attendance. He hadn't exactly made any friends since joining this order. That one though, Shard, he had seen him often. Perhaps he would be a useful ally. Today though this man seemed weak, he hoped it was only reflective on the momentous occasion that was about to occur.

[Hotel]

The Rilan woman rose from the floor of her room. She had somewhere to be, and she needed to be there on time. Today was a big day, the day she would finally be recognized in the order. The day she finally would become a true Sith. She could not help but let a light smile touch her lips.

As she strode through the temple, she thought over everything that had led to this moment, all starting with that fateful day in the ruins this very temple was standing on. Her former Jedi master had been a fool, and weak, but he was one of the few people that ever managed to inflict a permanent wound upon her. She still carried that invisible scar to this day, knowing what that man had done to her parents. It made her both sick and scared. Her old life had ended the moment she had fainted upon killing him. But her new life began as well.

Shaking her head of the thoughts of her Jedi master, she focused on the thoughts of the man who opened her eyes. He was the first person to ever take an interest in her as a child. He was the first person to ever make her smile. And he was the first person she saw upon waking in the former Academy. He began to once more train her, teach her, care for her. The father she never had. That too would come crumbling down upon her as he died in her arms.

Tears began to swell in her eyes as she fought the sorrows of the past. Everything involving her two former masters had led to this though, had led to the Sith. She was here now, and she was finally being recognized. She thought about the day she first arrived, seeing those four kneeling before the Dark Overlord... Today would be her day. That day was also the first day she had met Shard.

As she thought of the man, her sorrow was slowly lifted. They had seemed to hit it off right away. They had sparred, then gone for a walk. Shard had spoken of his grand plans, and he wanted her to be a part of him. She had said yes, and now was one of his commanders in his Dominion. She had brought back some of the happiness she had had before the Jedi ruined her life for the second time, the happiness she had had with her master.

Ever since their defeat at Subterrel though, Shard had been avoiding her, ignoring her. She had not once seen him since they had returned. She didn't know how she felt about it. The only thing she was sure of was that she missed him. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and regained her composure, wanting to appear her best for this. She looked up and saw the others walking up the to the platform. She followed suit.

Upon arriving, she saw that some of them were dressed in elegant robes. Her simple black robes seemed dull compared to them, but she had no extravagant clothes herself. Her gaze caught Shard for a moment, and she could see that he was exhausted. Her head tilted to the side in a curious manner before her eyes fell upon the Dark Overlord. Immediately, she fell to one knee before him, bowing her head. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for.

[Rugs]

Today would be an interesting day. Today would be a day of promotion. As Visari began to climb to the Temple's peak, he reflected on recent events, and came to the conclusion that, despite the occasional set back, it was only fitting. His was a story of promotion. Promotion as he grew in strength in the Force. Promotion as he took control of what had, at the time, been nothing more than a small arms company, and over the span of two decades, shaped it into one of the fastest growing conglomerates in the Galaxy. It was only fitting that now, he would be promoted to a position of higher prominence within the Sith Order.

It made sense. Visari was a leader, though he had no deigns on leading the Order itself; that could be left to Iniquitous. However, the Dark Overlord would need hands in his mission, as it was a grand one. That was where Visari and the few other Sith that had been chosen for this day would fit in. They would be there to carry out Iniquitous' will, and to impress it upon the ranks of those below them. It was a system similar to the way the heads of the various branches of Visari Enterprises all reported to him, and the leaders within those branches reported to them. Power came from the top, and today, Visari would move just a little bit higher up the ladder.

The last span of time had been lively, to say the least, both for Visari and for the Order as a whole. There was the whole fiasco with Raeg Vashin, the fight that nearly broke out when that Vordrinn girl arrived, and a good deal of fighting as they made their presence even more well known to the populace of the Galaxy. There had been successes. There had been failures. Rhen Var and Yaga Minor were both successes, though Subterrel--a fight that a number of those who would be promoted today participated in--had been a failure. It was a disappointment, certainly, but Visari didn't put too much stock into it. That was the way things went with expansion: some battles were won, while others were inevitably lost. If lessons were learned and adjustments made, a loss could very well turn into a number of victories down the line, or so he'd learned in building up Visari Enterprises.

The time between those events and now had been a bit more relaxed, as Visari took a temporary leave to focus on running his business. Long stays at Korriban were well and good, but he still had other things to attend to, and a facade to maintain. So he went back to his headquarters on Balmorra, to days filled with meetings and planning. Good times. But now he was back on Korriban. It was good to be back, honestly; to be able to walk freely without hiding what he really was, to be among those who saw things the way he did. And he'd arrived just in time to receive a very important message.

Visari's eyes took in the scene before him when he reached the summit. The others had already arrived, it seemed. And there, before them all, stood Iniquitous. His face was hidden and his form shrouded. Perhaps that was fitting as well. The Dark Overlord was a man of vision, but he was also one of mystery. Maybe it was to hide himself from his enemies. Maybe it was to add lend a certain aura in the eyes of those that were beneath him. Or perhaps it was some blend of both of those, or none of them. Visari couldn't claim to know the inner workings of the man's mind. But such musings were neither here nor there. A cool wind blew in from the valley, shifting Visari's coat about him. The light, clear ringing of his cane on the stones below him called out through the air as he moved forward, to take his place.

[Apillis]

It was balance. Everything that Acalya understood and saw through the Force it was utterly devoted to balance. While so many of the dark given into their own impulses and machinations for the sake of power, Acalya stared off into the landscape the Force has willed itself. Those blood red eyes she inherited from her father do not see the universe as he did, they see what her mother's eyeless sockets did -- the shifting of the Force surrounding her. Seeing the light was still so bright within the galaxy with Jedi's power still so strong. Believing as she did nothing other than follow her whims, she would be walking the very path of the will of the dark side itself in aiding to eclipse the light, so the dark may become stronger once again... at least for a time.

Balance is what mattered, her whims as she saw it were not her own, for if the Force has a will and predestination for all, then where does free-will step in? No, it is the Force's will that the Jedi are to be counter-balanced, they have grown too strong and dark side has thus expanded, thickened, became more dense -- becoming stronger for the sake of eclipsing the light. This was balance. Submitting her will fully to the dark side, she followed only her instincts and they lead her on a much darker path than those of her past had ever dared conceive.

While others fought battles, challenging soldiers and machines in open combat to declare their power. Acalya traveled the void, following her perceptions, using them to find whatever flicker of the light she could find... to overshadow it. With the dark side growing stronger, the Jedi would surely investigate the why, and their shadows were not truly shadows, only small flickers of the light in the dark places Acalya traveled. Guiding the Sensorium to where it must go as she meditated for days to marathon extents to find even the quietest flicker of the light walking admits the darkness, and there she strove to be where they could find her -- and be eclipsed by her. Keep the light's main body guessing with its smaller particles being extinguished by the darkness. She did not see the point in open warefare, or at least not yet, and if she did not see the point in it, it must be the dark side's will as well as she believed it to be; and thus shadow warfare was the correct course of action. Though these beliefs of following the predestination of the Force was something she would never openly profess to any of the Sith as it was counter to what themselves believed.

There were times upon Korriban within the temple, she would rest at ease from her travels within the void. Finding a dark corner of her own to meditate further upon her own understanding of the darkness secluded from the rest. Though, at times there was the small indulgence of giving a small shred of her knowledge to a young and hopeful initiate amongst this new Sith Order. Doing so only to see what they would do with it, whether for a more purposeful machination or to eagerly strike at their competition. The chaotic of nature of the dark side contradictorily made the intention predictable, but often the action a little surprising; and their success meant being indebted to her...

It was during one of her quieter moments she sensed it, and following that she wandered to where it was would truly be exclaimed that only had she utterly surpassed her old master whom she killed by her own hand; but his master of whom he served as well. Her prominence within the dark side became a vicious realization to herself as she stood before the Dark Overlord for her acension into a darker plane than she ever intended to walk. Turn back? Never. This is the Force's will as it was compatible with her own desires, or perhaps that is what the dark side wants her to believe, but either way, this is what she has been made for -- destined for, and so she embraced it. Only more will come in time.

[Malice]

Today would prove to be a very interesting one, it was a day of days. Malice would finally take his rightfull place within the Order as a true Sith. Garbed in Sith robes, he made his way through the Galaxy from the core world of Coruscant where he was hiding making moves in the slums of the planet. Putting eveyrthing on hold, he left with haste to the Outter Rim to the planet of Korriban to attend the ceremony.

As Malice arrived just outside the temple, his ship created a cloud of dust as it slowly decended to the dry surface of Korriban. Upon landing, the hull of the ship opened allowing for a ramp to decend and as it did, Malice hastely made his way out before the ramp had touched down. It had been quite some time since he'd been to the Sith Temple on account of his personal endevours. Stepping down from the ramp, Malice made his way toward the temple with a smirk stretched across his features which are now revealed after having the half-masked life support system removed. He wanted to be in top shape for this event, so he went through extended surgery.

Dry air whipping at his back cloak as it trailed behind him as he walked rather fast into the temple. The air on this planet, despite him being here only twice, still harbors a sense of home and comfortability. Hard to explain, but it was a place he enjoyed being. Saber at his side, it shook as he walked.

Now standing within the presence of the Dark Overlord, Malice looked at the masked that veiled his face before falling to a knee and bowing his head to the Dark Overlord of the Sith. Feeling the will of the Dark side of the Force radiate from the Overlord and surround him. He had embraced the Dark Side and all it's influences, and this was the moment, a peak in Malice' life he would finally take his place within the Order and serve the Overlord as a real Sith.

[Mara]

(((Sorry for lateness; this thread kind of got pushed to the back of importance...)))


[...from Healing Conversation]

Looma had a strange sense of deja vu as she stood in the back of the crowd of the few others who had wandered up to the roof of the Temple to see what was going on. She had had a bit of a head's up, though, from her master about the purpose of the meeting and didn't have to murmur with the others, imagining why the Dark Lord had called this secret yet completely open gathering involving himself and the most powerful of the Initiates since the Order had begun anew. Her master Shard knew what the purpose was but hadn't told her, not exactly, only requested that she be there for it. The yellow Twi'lek could guess the reason, only by the tone of Shard's voice from earlier and now as she stood on the roof, strangely reminiscent of a ceremony that seemed a lifetime ago, after the completion of this Temple, before her master, before her training.

So much had happened in the last several months, but yet that was all it was, not decades as it felt to her now. But she supposed that's how all beings felt after partaking in their first real battle against real enemies. She had been so eager at first to join with the Sith when they had come to Bakura. Eager to finally realize her potential with a group of Force users who cared for her. Eager to train under her master. To finally engage the Jedi who had deserted her. And she had finally gotten that chance a few weeks earlier at Subterrel. A price she had paid dearly for.

She still felt a little weak and bruised as she stood there in her dark cloak, simple and comfortable clothes worn underneath. The kolto had taken care of the most of it with some help of a very special friend in the infirmary and medbay. Someone more skilled in the healing arts of the Force than she was, especially since after dropping her off, her master had disappeared again on one of his mysterious missions. Missions she had almost always joined him on since becoming his student. If she hadn't been hurting so much from her injury received at Subterrel, Looma would have felt the slight at being left behind. As it was, though, she had been glad to be free of her master for a while. To heal, in more ways than one.

Her right lekku rested over her shoulder, not draped down her chest or back as they normally would be. The end was bandaged up tightly to aid the healing process where a Jedi's blade had almost severed off a foot of her sensitive head-tail. It hurt to just have it hang down, and so it rested on her shoulder without any pressure put on it. And with the hood of her cloak over her head, it was barely visible. This ceremony was not about her; and even if it was, she didn't want to draw attention to a wound garnered partially of her own stupidity.

Drowning out the mutterings of those gathered around her, a group that had grown as the minutes wore by, she focused at the front, the middle of the roof where Darth Iniquitous was gathered with those she suspected were about to gain a title and further power within the Order, just as those had all those months ago, including Darth Novus, her Caleb's master. But now it was her master's turn, Shard, along with the others. She recognized most of them. Visari and Shandari were in her master's Dominion. And she remembered another man from being at Subterrel as well; Deceptus he had called himself. The other two weren't as known to her, though one seemed familiar. Looma thought the woman had spoken up even longer ago when she was yet new to Korriban, before the Temple had been built, when the Dark Lord had greeted her and the other newcomers. This thought was vaguely amusing to her, that she knew almost all those that were gathered in front of the Dark Lord, waiting.

Despite everything that had happened in her recent memory involving her master, she still had a bit of pride for him and this further step in his life. Hopefully afterwards they would actually get back to training. Perhaps this new title she assumed he would receive would refocus him on what was important. She understood that he couldn't do much while she was recovering, but he had been back for a few days now, and Looma had only seen him the once before, when he told her he requested her presence. Mysterious as always, was Shard. She just had to wait and see, to see what this meeting would unfold and see what her master would later unfold for her.

[Casual]

He stood with his back to a pillar within the Temple. His apathy for meetings of this nature was ingrained within his character. He'd sat through enough of these to know that they lacked any real meaning or importance. The problem, now, was that this was no such meeting.

This would be a meeting unlike any he'd attended before. Here was his induction into the circle of Sith Lordship. This was the direction that he'd been looking for. Here was his path, his destiny. A rise to power he'd always hoped for. This was no military conquest. No government promotion. This was no supply raid or joy ride through space. This was the new Sith Order, of which he would become a Lord. The darkness in the air was almost tangible in the room. He couldn't resist its allure. The very sensation of like minded, driven individuals who sought the destruction of the Jedi, what more could he ask for, what was better for him to be a part of.

Here he would not be abandoned, should he step right, of course. Not like he was by those Jedi. The feeble Jedi. His anger surged, feeding to the current fluctuations of anger already emanating throughout the room. It felt great. The catharsis of his anger felt so delectable, especially at so fine a dining location as Korriban, surrounded by other pleasing emotions and darkness as these future Lords and Ladies.

The night felt as if it pulsated with the energy of what was to come. The dark souls gathered in the dark of the night. Shadows converging in their vows to eradicate the light. Everyone in attendance knew this. Everyone was fueled by this drive in one way or another, and this was it. This was their tangible indication of that progress. He was not Xzun Grozmick, resting on a pillar on a re-purposed, ruined planet, no. He was a soon-to-be Sith Lord on the eve of the dawn of the new age. The age of the Sith.