Thu Oct 18, 2012 6:29 pm by Varro Calistarious
Lord Ahriman
*Small, insignificant grains of cinnamon sand fell through my fingers as I had watched the duels below unfold. A deadly thrust here, a riposte there. Each of the Sith was gaining ground and was losing it just as fast. Their dance of death had soon come to it's crescendo, and unlike my mortal comrades I had lost my fleeting interest. Tricks of the mind were entertaining to watch, though they had lost their luster in my venerable age. I had seen many and learned to trust my instincts when dealing with such, empty attempts at humour and deception.
Wiping the palm of my taloned glove free of Korriban's ashes, I had turned my attentions towards my apprentice. He had covered much ground since he had sped towards the melee, I could still feel the lingering traces of anger left behind in his wake. Such tempting morsels hinted at the rage he barely held in check, each release more sweeter to me than the last. His anger was so primal, so primordial, that it had made the annihilator chose him to herald their coming. He was the chosen of the gods, and he would become my vessel. Letting my aged lips curl into a smile, I had relished the thought of his youthful body and the pleasures I would garner through it. The taste of hot spiced wine. The gentle caress of a woman, perhaps my apprentice Lelith could do with a lesson in pleasure. With Varro as my puppet host, I would experience the treats of the galaxy once more through a fresh set of eyes. My patience was starting to grow thin. I had wanted the results now, had desired them, craved them. Yet by the will of the darkness, I had to withdraw my carnal wishes until he was ready to bear the Mark of the Ascendant. It was not as easy to turn their words in action, as it went against everything I ever wanted. Then in the end, the need to sate the dark gods overruled what doubts I had felt.
Removing myself from the realm of reverie, I had summoned my inner voice. Swirling with power, it was cast out onto the wind. Taking shape, in the form of two words that would leave a mental impression upon whom they were meant for. Almost instantly, I had watched the bulky form of Varro Calistarious turn about and run towards the cliffside. My smile remained, as each and every time his ability for control was tested he had proven himself admirably time and time again.
Now my gaze had focused upon those whom laid prone before me. Glaring at them through the slits of my baroque helm, I felt their desire to do their duty burn brightly within their hearts. They were loyal soldiers, trained animals with a pack mentality. An admirable trait, should the galaxy not be in turmoil and shrouded by the lying veil of peace. I had a simple idea to turn these dogs to my cause, one they would enjoy as it gave them purpose. When a soldier lay idle, it rarely yielded the desired results. When soldiers worked alongside power crazed Sith, things went awry and often not in the way others had wished. I would entitle them to a choice, to live or die by my hand. A generous offer should they accept, and a harsh one should their loyalties be too bound to the Empire.
Though we had set upon ourselves, like bloodhounds. The empire as we knew it had changed. The Emperor's goals wer no longer my own, nor was his Empire's. I sought to become a god amongst mortals, and the Lord of lords had been the only thing standing in my way. This coup of either Khar's or this ministers devising, I've yet to decide whom the fault entirely rests upon but truthfully I could care less, was merely an acceleration of my own intent to dispose our beloved leader. He had promised me my godhood when he had recruited me into his order, yet as his corpse (No doubt opened from head to toe) donned the throne of obsidian, I am devoid of my reward. My task was to garner their loyalties, to ensure they were loyal to me and I alone. They would serve the empire for the time being, though as my corruption would spread I would no longer need the useless carcass of the emperor to attain my ascendancy. The power was mine to take, and my hands would wrench it from the hearts of those that aimed to impede my progress.*
"Soldiers." *My voice, smooth as velvet to their ears, amplified by my mastery over the force.* "Remove your helms, let me bear witness to those beneath."
*Enticed by the words of their better, they had rolled onto their feet and took a knee. From there the men clad in ebony had removed their helms, revealing the shaved features underneath. I rolled my eyes over their faces, taking in each and every detail presented to me. Given the knee by all four of these men, was stirring a powerful feeling within my breast. Was it pride? I knew not the answer, for all that mattered was that it filled my aching bones with the knowledge that I was a powerful being.*
"Your names." *I asked, strength dripping from each syllable.*
"Omegon." *Replied the man with the striking brown eyes and a fire that burned brighter than the rest.* "Typhon" *Stated the soldier, with the sniper rifle resting at his feet. The others had failed to list their names, their minds unpalpable by the power of suggestion. I was not surprised, as their training had come into effect. The two that had spoken their title, had done so willingly. Out of either adoration or respect, I cared not. They were to be my willing masters at arms. As my smile had faded, my hand had gone into the air before the two silent figures.
My memory of this moment was hazy at best, though judging by the corpses that kissed the cinnamon sand and the blood upon my pointed fingertips, I had swiftly filled in the blanks.*
"Omegon." *I hissed through gritted teeth.*
"My lord?"
*I paused for a moment. Thinking of what could be done, to cement his faith within my gaze. Upon revealing it, I spoke once more.*
"Execute this weakling for his failure and rise, First Captain."
*His lips curled into an insidious smile as his hand shot down to his holster. A lightning flicker of motion and the resonating sound of the blasters discharge, ended by the collapse of the man once named Typhon. I watched in delight as Omgeon rose and, the body of Typhon had billowed smoke through his temple. He followed orders without question, and I had enjoyed thus. It meant that my plans would come to fruition sooner than I had expected, and the gods would bestow their blessings upon their ever so faithful servant.
Before the body of the fallen soldiers had grown cold, Varro had returned to my side and took a knee. I bid him to stand, and to look upon my newest member of the brotherhood. The ebony armour would change, a dark sapphire blended with green would do. Yes, he shall be the template in which I shall build my army of willing slaves. Though clones are well and good, I believe that a true soldier. A man born and bred to fight, will last longer and prove to be more efficient than a man grown in a vat-tube. Compartmentalizing the thought and turning away from the battle below, I beckoned my vassals to follow.*
"Come my sons. We are needed elsewhere, for there will be time enough to play with the pawns soon enough."
*From there, our time in the Valley of the dark lords had come to an end. For now...*