Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
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Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Oct 12, 2023 6:35:02 GMT -8
Location: Kessel (Kessel System) | Southern Hemisphere | VonDragenfel Keep From the ruins of the bloodied and burnt Yaruba Family estate rose a sinister structure in the midst of a tortured landscape, shrouded in a dense kessoline fog that wreaked havoc on the lungs of anyone unfortunate enough to have to inhale the toxic air, causing puss filled boils and wicked red rashes to creep across the skin of the locals in the surrounding area. That was if they were lucky. Those enduring a more prolonged exposure to the poisonous industrial residue would soon find their skin sloughing from the wet meat over their bones, weeping into red ribbons of rotten flesh that was collected by the mutant creatures of the recently risen VonDragenfel Keep, home to the new Count of the territory. Inside the jagged tipped structure of spitcrete and Pzobian blackstone was an artificial being, a creature created through the dark blend of sorcery and science that was the Art of Alchemy, one of the Famine Lord's precious homonculai. It sat on a throne of bleached white bone, held together with strands of repurposed sinew to form a morbid seat in the main chamber of the Keep. A man-hide robe covered the false man's flesh, which itself was pale to the point of translucency, revealing black veins that writhed beneath his skin like hungry maggots. Black eyes with fine glowing red pupils stared manically across the hall, piercing the shadowy gloom that flickered beneath wrought iron chandeliers lit with tallow candles of congealed human fat. He looked to either side, to walls covered in mouldering tapestries on stretched cadaverous canvases that expressed the cruel exploits of the unchivalrous knights under his command.His name was Count Lorenzo VonDragenfel, and he was an expression of the Dark Apothecary's break from reality and slip of lucidity. The darkside was not his to command, but it had birthed him in its own unnatural way, as much a part of him as the filth beneath his yellow fingernails. Blue lips twisted and stretched into a permanent rictus grin, exposing gleaming white teeth with sharpened edges pressed so firmly together that the ends had begun to split. He, if it could be considered a He, was not alone. Joining the count in his court were the Roon Knights that had taken the castle with the aid of the GRRs 13th Legion, rebranded the Spice Knights of Kessel as this malevolent manse they found themselves in was to serve as their new home. They knelt before the Count, resting spiked Sith iron gauntlets on their knees with the grilled faceplates of their demonic helms bowed, displaying a fervent obeisance to the homonculai on the throne. The currents of the malevolent fey resided in each and every one of their depraved souls, empowering their mortal frames with dark magics at the cost of eternal damnation in the cursed afterlife that served as the realm of Chaos. A price they paid with pleasure, so long as it allowed them to commit further atrocities and sin in this life.A pearl of lightning cracked in the storm wracked sky above the evil fort, eliciting a thunderous boom that shook the walls of the Keep and preluded a filthy deluge of black rain that further poisoned the landscape. Outside the castle walls several of the Knights brotherhood supervised as peasant work gangs pressed into service toiled in the corrupted earth, digging a moat around the fortification that would soon be filled with the pestilent green kessoline runoff from the coaxium mines beneath the blighted stone spire, worked to death by women and children taken from the streets of Kessendra. Narcotic spice fumes wafted up from beneath the ground where kesselstone was pounded into powder, to sate the addicts of the Outer Rim, who indulged without knowing they ingested substance tainted by the corrupting influence of the darkside. The Count himself had a glowing wintrium pipe in hand with a lit coal at the end of its bowl shaped reservoir, enjoying tokes of the sense addling spice that sent fiendish flutters through his ghoulish body. Slowly, as though forced, his tightly pressed teeth parted to free a long leathery tongue that moistened Lorenzo VonDragenfel's cracked and bleeding lips. He cleared his throat with a wet cough of congealed phlegm, his chest rattling and throat gurgling as he delivered his ghastly speech."How goes the collection, Commander Cestus?" Spittle flecked from his lips, spilling down his chin and soiling the front lapels of his cadaverous robes as he spoke, drawing a swarm of hungry gnats that seemed immune to the chemical haze that permeated almost everything. They were caught in his teeth, drawn to the moisture there, some even slipping behind his deranged eyes with every infrequent blink.A figure in metallic blue plate armour emerged from the shadows, adorned as foully as the rest of the kneeling Spice Knights, though bearing a long tattered cape of tanned twi'lek skin that marked him apart from his bowing brothers. Knight Commander Diamios Cestus smashed his spiked vambrace against the heavy plate of his chest-piece with a resonating clang, slightly adopting a rigid stance as his horned helm dipped ever so slightly, the merest show of respect for the ghoul sitting on the throne."Well, Milord." Boomed a gravely tone, barely containing a rabid growl that would have sent shivers up a rancor's bent spine. For his part, Count VonDragenfel appeared unaffected, his mania perhaps making him immune to the natural fear that formed when in the Knight Commander's presence. Diamios continued. "Exposure to the kessoline vapours is having the desired effect on the peasant population of your new fiefdom. The rot sets in quickly, peeling flesh from meat more effectively than our flensing knives could ever hope to match. Oddly, the rot is not as deadly a condition as we suspected. The people appear to be...changing, adapting as it were."The Count leaned in from his gruesome bone throne with a sinuous creak. "Evolving?" He looked...hungry. Ravenous really. This talk of rotten flesh only served to wet his depraved appetite. Like all of the Dark Apothecary's creations, there was nothing so succulent as sentient life. If not for his current assignment, Lorenzo would have been well suited among the Hunger Cultists of blessed Pzob."Yes, evolving." Nodded the Knight Commander, his metal plates squealing like cracked fingernails scraped across duracrete. "I believe it may be the result of the murakami solution the Great Devourer ordered his legions to poison the wells with before his departure into the Maelstrom. It seems to grant a form of animation, as opposed to disease and death. We won't know for certain until the flesh sculptors in the Keep's apothecarium have a chance to dissect a few more specimens.""Good." Hissed the Count with an audible wet slurp as he sucked up the scum like salivation spilling over his chin. "Continue as you are. We must recycle as much skin as possible for the Famine Lord's latest project, his new Flesh Troopers." |
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Travis Slane
The Sith Eternal
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Post by Travis Slane on Dec 2, 2023 12:26:36 GMT -8
*A a Baudo-class star yatch entered the atmosphere (or at least what counted as atmosphere) of the planet Kessel. It was a far more elegant craft than usually visited the place, but when the famine lord called politely, it was best to agree to the lizard's "request". He was one of the seven, and as such wielded enough authority within the Sith Eternal to pull Doctor Travis Slane away from his pristine tower-hospital on the Nullus Beacon to this desolate wasteland of a planet.* <<We could kill him and usurp his place.>> *The Surgeon looked at the mirrored mask hanging off one of the nearby controls, watching his own twisted reflection as the voice only he could hear spoke it's dark desires. He responded with the exasperated patience of a parent telling their child the same thing for the thousandth time.* "No, even if we were certain that we could, it would only involve more eyes on us, which would not align with our goals." *HIs own reflected eyes turned yellow for just a moment as his reflection rolled it's eyes at him, but no further protests voiced themselves as he piloted Cutter toward the given coordinates.
Finding the grotesque tower in among a desiccated landscape that the Surgeon assumed had once been idyllic (at least by Kessel Standards) countryside Slane landed his ship on the stone courtyard out front. Despite his environmental sensors screaming at him about the danger of the surrounding air the only mask the Surgeon donned was the one-way mirrored glass mask he always wore while acting openly as a Sith Lord. Strutting down the exit ramp as if he were about to enjoy a beach vacation the black robbed and hooded Sith Lord took a deep breath of the toxic air, took a moment to enjoy the feeling it held in his longs, savoring the agony and corruption it brought with it for just a few long moments. But then the necessity of clean air asserted itself and in a moment and a bit of will the Sith detoxified the air itself, breaking down the intrusive elements and expelling the toxin, while preserving his own system. With that exhalation he boomed with a force amplified voice toward the tower.* "I have been summoned, and now I am here." *He did not bother to announce his name. If those sent to great him did not know the name of Darth Orvos, Lord of Lost Agonies, they would soon would be unable to forget it.*
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Dec 3, 2023 6:32:01 GMT -8
A groaning creak elicited from the thick Pzobian oak doors of the twisted spire erected over the remains of the former Yaruba Family estate as the front entrance portal split open to reveal the dark interior of the castle. Appearing at the shadowy threshold of the ruinous manse was a rodent creature of short stature and scabrous pink flesh covered in a thin layer of greasy brown hair, fixing the Sith in the courtyard outside with a verminous stare from its two beady red eyes. Whiskers twitched along either side of its crooked snout as its lips peeled apart to expose sinister yellow fangs, as though the vile teeth set in its pestilent mouth were comprised of the same fileting knives used to create the morbid banners of tanned human hide flayed from the bones of the local peasantry. The ranat, for what other servant would the Famine Lord have than one of the Children of Decay, squealed and hissed at the good doctor in a series of rapidly expelled squeaks accompanied by hints of its sour breath, clearly addressing this Lord of Lost Agonies in indecipherable rat-speech. Whatever accusation it accosted the Sith in the yard with, they were short lived, for the smooth serpentine tone of the Dark Apothecary soon announced itself from further in the depths of the spitcrete encrusted blackstone fortress."Squeakerz, whossse at the door? Don't be rude, invite them in. You're letting in a draft." Fixing Travis with a murderous leer, the hench-vermin of the most accomplished master of the alchemical arts of the modern age pushed open the door further with a gnarled paw, before stepping aside and motioning to the masked man to enter the dark dwelling. The orange ember dance of torch light banished the utter blackness inside and dispelled the shadows as a saurian figure shrouded in a man-hide cloak of flayed faces appeared from inside, the cadaverous garment appearing to be sutured together from a wide range of specimens, each expression still writ with the excruciating torment they had experienced up until the point of death. The creature's left claw rose and wrapped curved obsidian claws more akin to meat-hooks around the hem of its hood, pulling back the concealing layer, so that the good doctor might lay his hidden eyes on the freakish features of the villainous velociraptor responsible for this structure of human suffering. Scaled lips twisted upwards and split apart, exposing a forest of fangs set in a crocodilian snout, forced into a hungry smile. A forked tongue slipped between the rows of serrated incisors to flick the air, misting the space between them with crimson flecks from bleeding gums, soiling the front of reprehensible reptile's robe in a moist layer of cooling vitae."Ah, Monsssieur Ssslane!" Exclaimed the black scaled barabel with an excited hiss, emerging further from the blighted bosom of VonDragenfel Keep. "I sssee you've received my summonz. Good of you to come, though you've arrived at an auspiciouz time." Dragus held the torch in his right claw closer to his wicked visage. "There haz been...an incident. Pleassse, come inssside and warm yourssself. Tiz not a night to linger outssside thessse doorz. The Kesssel wolvez are hungry thiz eve."As the monstrous Dark Apothecary invited Travis in, he would be witness to even more strange sights within. The dark interior of the castle offered a glimpse into the depraved preferences of the Hungering One. The interior was dimly lit with hundreds of burning tallow candles of congealed human fat set in wrought Sith iron chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, bleeding acrid wisps of greasy smoke that stung the eye and turned the stomach in most sentient souls, highlighting blackstone walls layered in mouldering tapestries painted in excrement and blood on stretched human vellum. The scenes depicted were even more barbarous, harkening to dark days when the empire of the Eye reigned over the Outer Rim, speaking of a history of human sacrifice and sorcerous blood rites. In the darkness, red eyed things of all unimaginable shape stared at the most welcome intruder to grace the fort, their horrific forms lingering in the shadows for fear of the light. He-Who-Hungers of course considered this charming abode to be his summer home.
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Travis Slane
The Sith Eternal
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Post by Travis Slane on Dec 8, 2023 18:35:58 GMT -8
*The mirrored mask hid the Sith Lord's distain as his first greeting to this unfortunately timed summons was another one of the vile creatures that the Dark Apothecary seemed so fond of. On top of that this particular one seemed intent on disrespect, as if it had any right to have an opinion on his presence on this planet or anywhere else for that matter. Unfocusing his yellow eyes for just a moment, the Sith looked deep into the creature with the force, quickly sorting through cellular structures until he found what he was looking for, the very bonds that held the miserable creature together. He began to destabilize those bonds to the point that by the time the black robed figured was walking past the Ranat, it was more goo than the living creature it once was. Giving no more thought to what happens to those who disrespect a Sith Lord with no power to protect themselves he continued his confident stride into what could best be described as a grotesque museum to join his host.* "Ah, Monsssieur Ssslane!" Exclaimed the black scaled barabel with an excited hiss, emerging further from the blighted bosom of VonDragenfel Keep. "I sssee you've received my summonz. Good of you to come, though you've arrived at an auspiciouz time." Dragus held the torch in his right claw closer to his wicked visage. "There haz been...an incident. Pleassse, come inssside and warm yourssself. Tiz not a night to linger outssside thessse doorz. The Kesssel wolvez are hungry thiz eve."
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Dec 10, 2023 6:44:46 GMT -8
The scaled lid over the Dark Apothecary's red right eye blinked as he observed his verminous assistant dissolve into a pile of black sludge staining the already filthy stone of the floor. It added something to the entrance hall. A little je ne sais quoi, as it were, that really tied the place together. A faint buzz of whirring gears resonated from the rakatan ocular implant set in the disturbed draconian's left eye socket as it zoomed in on the slowly spreading putrid puddle of goo that bubbled and popped, releasing ghastly wisps of sour steam. "Very peculiar." Commented the cruel crocodilian, reaching up under his chin with his left claw, scratching away molted scales as he pondered aloud. "That'z the third time that'z happened thiz week." Whatever curiosity consumed his thoughts with quickly dispensed with a shrug of his scaly shoulders, as he returned his focus to the Sith surgeon in his midst. "Come Herr Doktor, I'll explain on the way."A titter-tatter of scratching clawed paws on unforgiving cold stone preceded the arrival of another of the rat-kin sworn to the service of the Great Devourer, hurry-scurrying on all fours through the wet pile of the black scaled barabel's previous assistant, sliding to a stop at the side of the Hungering One. Apart from a few differently aligned scars and scabby patches of fur, the rodent was much the same as the one who had answered the door."Ah, Squeakerz. There you are. Here, take thiz." He leaned over and handed the beady eyed rodent the torch held in his right claw, then allowed the most recently promoted hench-vermin to the position of Squeakers to lead the way. As the saurian Sith stalked through the dark halls of the Keep, his shoulders swayed from right to left, while the overlong tail protruding from his backside flicked the opposite way as it kept a matching rhythm. The serrated tail spike capping the end of the twisted terrosaur's fifth appendage glinted in the sinister light cast from the ornate barbed fixtures overhead, the paralytic poison oiling the blades surface providing a polish that refracted the fiendish light. Chandeliers were a sign of true sophistication, as any Sith worth his salt rightly knows. It was a part of the reason he saw their inclusion in most of his properties and space faring vessels, and pitied those without the cultural refinement and good taste to see the value they added to any room. The interior of the strange fortress was a disorienting maze of crisscrossing halls, spiral staircases, and gloomy portals with thick oaken doors thrown open to expose the heinous debaucheries of the Pater Mutatis and the Spice Knights that called the Keep home. Strangely enough for all the peasants bound to boards and sealed tight into Sith iron maidens, tormented eyes leering through the narrow slits of their imprisonment, none of the so called sword brothers of the malevolent manner were present. At most Travis' might find a pale skinned servant with leprous lesions attending to the manse, rearranging Murakai orchid bouquets or sweeping the accumulated filth into ever growing piles of mouldering scum."Az you may recall from our previouz discussionz about my work, Project Manticore iz the culmination of many yearz resssearch and ssstudy. While there iz no question my Nu-Jakez are perfect already, ssso far az a general replacement for bassseline humanity iz concerned, there iz alwayz room for a unit to fill certain niche rolez. The Flesh Trooperz I desssire were inssspired by the Yuuzhan Vong warriorz I encountered during my sssojourn beyond the borderz of civilized ssspace. They were horrifying to behold, ssstretched ssskin over bulging meat, hardened bone and chitin. Much like Garrax'z mother, I sssuspect. Sssadly my observationz during ssseveral dissectionz and experimentationz on the speciez determined they were an unsssuitable match for enhancing the ever evolving genome of the Nu-Jakez. The lack of midi-chlorianz in their blood iz a hindrance and any attempt to introduce them into their DNA haz met with failure, az though their very presssence was anathema to the Force itssself. I would have tried introducing anti-midi-chlorianz cultured in Otherssspace, unfortunately it iz a truly inhossspitable dimensssion at the moment, even for a Lord of the Eye." He looked over his shoulder at Travis and shuddered. "Spiderz, eight feet tall and incredibly foul tempered. Alssso like Garrax'z mother, no doubt. In any event, I turned my attention elsssewhere for a sssolution, and eventually found one. Ssstockpiling enough ssskin for the Project haz been a bit of a challenge. There are only ssso many peasantz to be flayed. Siss, Siss, Siss."Dragus' saurian snickering echoed throughout the fort, stirring the bestial inhabitants that responded in a series of shrill squawks, baleful barks, and hateful hisses. Eventually they arrived at their journey's end, a thick set of oaken doors like all the rest, though these were banded with more wicked wrought Sith iron and fortified with spikes studs. The Blood Wyrm stopped just shy of the lab entrance as the newest named Squeakers worked at the lock with a ring of long brass keys."That'z why I invited you here, Herr Doktor. Your disssertation on vat-grown tisssue waz mossst illuminating and jussst the sssort of practical ingenuity Project Manticore requirez. I even sssolved the isssue of how to sssymbiotically adhere sssaid ssskin to the Nu-Jakez while in full armour. A combination of alchemical sssubmersion and direct injection with the Ursiniz-Helix, of courssse, but the misssing element were the stem-cellz of a chimeric creature. After producing sssuch a beassst, I've ssspent my waking hourz culturing the specimenz cellz until I had enough for the firssst Flesh Trooper prototypez. Unfortunately, the creature proved quite unruly."CREAK! A groaning creak eliciting from the tight hinges of the door as Squeakers unsecured the lock and pulled the portal wide, revealing the interior of the lab. It was a vast room in a terrible state of disrepair. Broken glass from shattered beakers and vials littered the floor, tables were overturned, overhead lights hung loosely from single cable strands that sparked randomly. One side of the room was dominated by a barred enclosure, thick poles of unbreakable Sith iron...broken, bent outwards to suggest whatever had been housed inside the large pen had managed to burst out of the cage. Whatever the creature was, it was clearly large, because on the opposite side of the lab there was a massive rancor sized hole in the side of the castle wall that led out into the burnt forest beyond VonDragenfel Keep. The mad alchemist stepped closer to Travis until his rancid breath steamed against the Sith physician's mirrored faceplate."It essscaped." He hissed, then added in exclamation. "And ate all my ssskin!"
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Travis Slane
The Sith Eternal
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Post by Travis Slane on Jan 8, 2024 16:07:13 GMT -8
*The Sith followed the rancid reptile as he was lead deeper into the twisted corridors of the keep, blinking a few times to activate the mapping device in his belt. The Sith was excellent with directions, but always found that having a sophisticated holomap of any building you entered could be invaluable for quick escapes, or if one had to return later to purge the building. The Sith smiled silently behind the mirrored mask as he recalled a number of hunts that that particular trick had been useful on. That happy rumination was was ruined somewhat as they made their way through the chambers of the spice knights. It wasn't revulsion about the acts themselves that drew the sith's contempt, but instead the privative nature of the displays.* <<Pain is an artform, and these are children playing with their parent's paints.>> *The Sith found himself agreeing with the voice that only he could hear, though he was loath to do it. Thus the Doctor began to make adjustments as he followed the Barabel. Reaching deep down into the few still living victims the Doctor began making alterations, sometimes activating nerves to inflict direct pain into victims systems, sometimes adjusting still working eyes to create extreme light sensitivity before pulling back skin to permanently leave those eyes open, one poor man trapped in a sith iron maiden found his pain suddenly deadened only to find an insatiable itch on the back of his thigh suddenly the only sensation his body was capable of feeling. On and on it went, and each and every one found their bodies and organs strengthened on a cellular level, something they wouldn't notice, but would allow their torments to last longer all the while the doctor ignored the cackling laughter in the back of his head.
The doctor was not without mercy however, there were some who were too far gone, either too mad for the torture to be enjoyable, or not enough life left in their system to make the tortures scientifically useful. Those he headed with a quick destruction of their nervous system. Additionally as he passed the man with leprous lesions the doctor once again reached deep down, breaking down the diseased cells and kickstarting the healing system, growing new clean skin in moments, it's pigment augmented to remove the pale cast. In truth it made the servant look practically normal, the contrast to his environment so stark that the doctor couldn't help but chuckle slightly as the small group moved on, his attention turned back to Dragus as he began discussing his latest work.
Though the doctor disagreed about the supposed "perfection" of the Nu-Jakes he couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea of the fleshtroopers. He wasn't sure about the practicality of such an arrangement but the idea of living flesh molded onto the armor of soldiers spiked his curiosity.* <<Is there anything less interesting than an explanations of another experiment from this oversized lizard? Can we get to the part where it escapes and causes a bunch of local deaths and we get to hunt it down already?>> *The doctor wanted to disagree with the voice in his head, to insist that the explanation was indeed interesting, and that despite the recent track record of the Dark Apothecary's experiments they couldn't all end like that, but he knew that the voice didn't care at all about the scientific intricacies at play and that it was actually looking forward to things going wrong.*
*Moments later the Sith was proved correct and a palpable feeling of joy escaped him at the prospect of the hunt.* <<I suppose you were right, for once.>> *He ignored the jibe from the voice in the back of his mind as he reached for the lightsaber at his belt, wondering how much of the skin had been consumed by the famine lord before the monster had had a chance to get to it.* "Shall we go for a hunt?" *The Sith asked, with anticipation, his body language shifting from the doctor's usual polite charisma to that of an excited predator as he gazed out into the forest beyond the keep.*
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Jan 9, 2024 6:09:17 GMT -8
Starting at the corners of the cruel crocodilian's menacing maw, his lips curled upwards and outwards, seeming to stretch impossibly beyond the borders of his snout in a villainous smile that placed his plethora of pleurodonts on full display. The scaled lid over his bloody right eye lifted until the crimson orb practically bulged from its socket, the slit black saurian pupil slashing down its centre transfixed on the Sith physician, whilst the amethyst gem set in his left warped and distorted the reflection of the doctor in a number of unnatural ways. "Why, I waz about to sssuggest jussst that." He placed his right claw over his black heart and leaned forwards, until the forked tongue that slipped between his fangs came within a fraction of an inch of Darth Orvos' mirrored faceplate. "Your generosssity doez you credit, Herr Doktor. You're ssso sssweet I ssswear I could jussst eat you up." He slurped as he sucked back the salivation and blood pooling in his bottom jaw, before leaning back and stepping away, turning his heinous self towards his broken laboratory. The despised draconian slipped his claw down to his sides and then behind his back, grasping his scaly arms at the wrist as he stalked across the floor, crunching broken glass under talon as he walked towards a far table.
Set atop a thick slab of stained Pzobian oak were a number of medieval implements, weapons from out of time that all stank of sorcerous origins. A pair of rapiers with silvered blades that shrieked into the aether as an echo of the sin committed in their creation, with handles bound tightly in strips of man-hide and barbed finger guards oiled in poisonous resin. There were crossbow pistols that utilized high tensile strength rishii gut strings to propel Sith iron tipped darts, as well as a larger repeating crossbow whose bolt hafts appeared to contain a luminous green substance, more syringe than arrow. Next to a rune inscribed hatchet whose script glowed a malevolent red, was a nine inch dagger with a blade comprised of transparent purple glass and an edge as sharp as obsidian. A halberd, a glaive, a truncheon, spiked knucklers, even a curved khopesh that would have looked right in the hands of an extinct massassi warrior. What they all had in common was that they lacked modern mechanics, no ultrasonic vibration generators, no delicate electronics, each an every one sinisterly simple. The most complicated items were a matching pair of black-powder pistols set next to a pouch of alchemically enhanced gunpowder and oddly orange glowing musket balls comprised of no mere metal. Dragus came to a stop behind the table, placing it between himself and his guest.
"The Ssspice Knightz rode out with all the fort'z available war dragonz, but there are a pair of blurrgz in the stablez that should sssuit our requirementz." He snapped two talons together. "Squeakerz, be a dear and sssaddle them up for uz." A verminous squeak followed by the scrape of clawed paws followed immediately after as the Famine Lord's hench-vermin hurry-scurried off to complete the task set to it. Dragus then continued, sweeping a claw over the table of assorted weapons. "Unfortunately, Herr Doktor, the sssacking of thiz territory releasssed the kesssoline fumez trapped in the sssoil. They've poisssoned much of the countryssside and have had a mossst corrosssive effect on modern technology, rapidly rotting battery packz and electronicz with even limited exposssure to thossse luminouz green vapourz. You'll find within an hourz ride from the Keep that your lightsssaber will be mossst unreliable. Thuz, we mussst turn to more basssic means of sssecuring our quarry." He reached down and raised a flint-lock long rifle from the table, well preserved with an almost affectionate polish applied to it. "I'm quite fond of thiz, actually. It belonged to a former female traveling companion of mine who had a habit of lurking over one'z shoulder." His snout quickly snapped to the right, checking for any fascist Fallanassi lingering in the shadows, then returned the rifle to the table and stepped aside. "Pleassse, Herr Doktor, help yourssself to whatever you like."
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Travis Slane
The Sith Eternal
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Post by Travis Slane on Feb 10, 2024 15:36:17 GMT -8
*The Sith didn't pull back from the Dark Apothecary's oddly close presence as he spoke, although he took a moment to appreciate the filtration system built into the mask that kept the rank reptile breath away from his nostrils. A smile blossomed across his face under the mask though as the other Sith Lord began to show off his wares and explain the situation. Though the lightsaber was an exceptional and convenient weapon there was something primal about more primitive arms that the Sith really appreciated. Though Orvos would have preferred his own dragon as a mount for this hunt, there would be no time to send to Arkania for her, besides that would likely have made this hunt far too simple, and what fun was a hunt that was over before it began.*
"You are too kind Lord Dragus. Had I known such fun was in store for this evening I would have come better equipped" <<I can help with that>> *The voice inside of his head was quite rude to interrupt but the Sith grudgingly admitted that it was correct, and so he turned toward the table and began to draw on the force before the doctor continued his thought.* "I am not completely without more timeless arms" *He swept his heavy cloak aside to reveal the force forged Kukri knife hanging off the left side of his belt. He continued the motion and elegantly swung the clock off and hung it on a broken piece of the cage that had once held the Dark Apothecary's experiment. Pouring more force energy and focus into his other efforts as he did so he pulled the mirrored mask off of his face and set it down on the table full of weapons, revealing a face to the Canny Crocodilian that was not his own. Popping a pair of large pills full of the basic building blocks of life into his mouth Travis redoubled his efforts as his flesh writhed and his bones cracked and reformed as he rewrote his own cellular structure and a voice in the back of his head reveled fully in the accompanying pain. His face elongated, jaws jutting out slightly and teeth sharpening to points as he smiled with a cruel maw that would make even the Famine Lord proud. His eyes expanded and shifted position slightly to either side of his face to increase his field of vision, each one seeming to now work independent of the the other and looking everywhere possible all at once. HIs frame expanded, the usually trim doctor suddenly expanding in both height and girth as muscle and bone both expanded to add impressive physical prowess where there once was only competent athleticism. His fingernails elongated, changed shape, and then finally revealed themselves as wicked metallic claws. Finally the exposed flesh of his hands and neck grew a chitinous armor, with accompanying distortions of his frame that implied that the armor extended underneath his clothing. The human doctor may not have been born a shapeshifter, but years of study and a a careful application of the force and science allowed for some rather impressive results. Those results would not be considered beautiful by the standards of any known race, but it did allow for a more effective hunter than his merely human body would have*
*Transformation complete the Sith turned back to the table of arms and reached out with his senses, searching for what called to him most. Though he nearly reached for the rapiers or khopesh his hands instead reached for the rune carved hatchet and slipped it into his belt opposite the Kukri almost without him willing them to do so. To that he added the two pistols and their accompanying bandoleer with odd ammunition and sorcery forged powder. Turning back to Dragus he once again smiled, displaying his now impressive collection of deadly points.* "And now the final touch." <<Yes, yes, I suppose now is the perfect time for that>> The voice that only he could hear responded impatiently as the Sith pulled out the sorcery forged scalpel Lord Dragus himself had forged as a gift from it's special case on his belt. With swift movements the Doctor made a slit down his left palm, allowing a pool of oddly light red blood to well up. Using that ghastly ink with the index finger of his right hand the Sith Surgeon began drawing complex runes on the bare floor of the laboratory. *
*Moments later the Sith stood up and drew deeply on the dark currents of the force around them, though rather than pulling that power into himself he pulled it through the Doctor's complex runes, drawing a massive amount of the power that binds the universe together as he began chanting with two voices in a language that never existed. The twin voices echoed across the room, slowly filling up the entire lab before all sound suddenly stopped and after a moment in which time itself seemed to stand still there was a massive flash of light and power that filled the room and left behind in it's wake a floating spear pulled from where it had been anchored elsewhere in the galaxy to the here and now. It's haft appeared to be an unusually elongated humerus bone, charred black and etched with nearly invisible runes and markings, while it's leaf shaped blade had the metallic and reflected characteristics of metal, but was the dark red color of human blood, giving it the eerie appearance of being permanently dipped in the liquid of life.*
*Grabbing the familiar weapon from the air the Sith's smile returned as he felt the familiar sense of power the implement of destruction always conveyed to him and he let out a contented sigh as the sense of rightness spread across his body and he turned back to his companion* "Now I believe we are ready." *He punctuated the statement of finality as he slammed the butt of the spear into the floor off the lab, power radiating out from it along with a deep warning note, announcing to any with the senses to feel or hear it's warning that a hunt was about to begin, and that there would be no one safe from the wrath of the hunters.*
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Feb 11, 2024 7:32:58 GMT -8
"Curiouz." Murmured the reprehensible reptile as he observed the good doctor's physical transformation. Scaled nostril slits flared on either side of the Famine Lord's crocodilian snout, picking apart a million different microscopic particles in the air at once. A mechanical whir sounded from his rakatan ocular implant as the device zoomed in closely, simultaneously switching through several different light spectrums. The effects of Darth Orvus' transformation were not so dissimilar from a sizable dose of the mad alchemist's Urcinis-Helix, the mutagenic elixir he used on most of his sithspawned creations. This appeared to be more of a Force induced transformation rather than an alchemical reaction, judging from the surge of darkside energy the fiendish barabel had felt prior to Travis' change. At a glance it was an obvious improvement over the Sith physicians usual form, more suited to the trials they would no doubt face, but there was something else perhaps a bit more revealing about this apparent realignment of cells and tissue. Dragus suspected this physical evolution was a reflection of Orvus' true self, a vile mirroring of the depraved and savage soul contained within his mortal shell, finally expressed in all its resplendent repulsiveness. Sinuous pops joined cartilage cracks and snaps as the Hungering One leaned in closer, his open maw widening, dripping scalding ropes of steaming salivation as his senses became excited by the sight. He had smelled a predator in his midst the moment monsieur Slane had arrived and this form of his was a more obvious representation of that. Definitely an improvement.
Next it was the doctor's use of runes and sorcery that surprised the dastardly draconian most. The black saurian slash of his pupil followed the metamorphized Sith as he drew his runes and channeled the currents of the malevolent fey to pull a morbidly inspired ornate spear from a fold within time and space. It was an uncommon ability, one typically utilized more by manipulators of spirit ichor, such as the Nightsisters of Dathomir. Dragus' sister, Dark Lady Trace, as a Witch of that same world had been capable of said feat. He sniffed again. However, judging by the male hormones exuded from Orvus' pores, he suspected the good doctor hadn't emerged from their ranks. Not impossible of course. The Sith Eternal was very progressive when it came to darkside gender reassignment surgery. Still, seemed a bit unlikely in this particular case. What that meant was that Travis Slane was not just an academic peer with a medical degree in Podiatry from the Chandrila Medical University and Institute of Technology, but something possibly more dangerous. Time would tell, but as already witnessed, there was more to the doctor than met the eye. Dragus dragged his forked tongue across his lips, leering somewhat lecherously at the materialized spear, sensing the arcane potency woven into its creation.
"Indeed. I absssolutely love the new look, darling." Remarked the ruthless reptile as he rummaged through the tables contents looking for something suitable to wield weapon wise on their adventure. Eventually he settled on a crossbow pistol with a hip quivers worth of bolts, which he affixed to his right hip. Once that was attached, his claws picked up a Sith iron flail with a morningstar head covered in more spikes than a nightbrothers tattoo covered scrote sack. Dragus gave the flail a swing overhead as he assessed the weight, twirling the spiked ball above his scaled scalp for several rotations before bringing its weighted head down on the table with a wood splintering crack. Wrapping a claw around the spiked head, he pried it free of the thick oaken surface. "Thiz will do." He mused, before lastly settling on a fat bladed cleaver with a handle bound in strips of tanned man-hide. The knife looked like it would be more at home in a butchers shop, but Dragus slotted it through his belt well enough. "I am prepared az well." Nodded the drake lord resolutely, before motioning towards the door. "Come, Herr Doktor. To the stablez."
The journey from the lab to the stables out in the courtyard took approximately five minutes and featured more glimpses of the castle's unsettling and often nonsensical interior. As they emerged beneath the pale glow emanating out of the chaotic Akkadese Maelstrom, they were indeed greeted by the sight of a pair of blurrgs, saddled and led toward them by the Dark Apothecary's hench-vermin who was holding their reigns in his gnarled paws. Their scaled hides were a mishmash of old scars and it was obvious from their large open maws that the two legged reptilians were in sore need of dental treatment. "Here we are. Blurrgz, az promisssed. They are a bit..." He paused thoughtfully, stroking the chin of his snout. "...ssseasoned, shall we sssay? However, they are well trained and should ssserve uz well, az long az we don't push them too hard. I'll grant you they are a far cry from a battle hydra." He admitted, then added positively. "But in the wordz of the great Sssithgyver, a Sssith makez due. Pleassse, get yourselvez acquainted and we'll be off." He pointed a talon towards a hole in outer wall. "The creature essscaped in the direction of the nearby sssettlement of Durn. Barely a village really, jussst a few cottagez arranged in a circle around an old chapel. The villagerz should be amenable to asssisting uz if the beassst passst through there. At the very leassst, they may be able to offer uz sssome insssight az to where the Ssspice Knightz disssappeared off to."
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Travis Slane
The Sith Eternal
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Post by Travis Slane on Apr 5, 2024 16:01:29 GMT -8
*Darth Orvos smiled in approval at his companion's choice of equipment. The brutality of both flail and cleaver matched well with the simple expedience of the crossbow pistols in a match that seemed fitting for the Famine Lord. The Sith observed further glimpses of the depravities of the crooked castle though he simply catalogued them away as anticipation for the hunt overtook his conscious mind. Some of that anticipation was overshadowed however when he saw the state of their mounts. This was supposed to be a hunt worthy of song and story, not a petting zoo ride for children.* <<Well if you're going to be so Sullen about it, I suppose there is something we could do about it.>> *The Sith Lord once again had to admit that the voice in his head had a point and reluctantly agreed.*
*The Doctor moved forward toward the two Sith mounts, slowly drawing on the power of the universe as he did. Stopping short of the pair of blurgs he closed his now massive eyes and focused, drawing his senses deep into the cellular structure of the two creatures and got to work. With the Doctor and the two beasts still as statues changes began to occur around them, slowly at first, but gaining momentum. The most obvious change was the scars on the two mounts slowly fading, as if someone had turned the dial of time backwards, pulling them smaller until they disappeared entirely. Their teath slowly built themselves back into reality, their fanged maws regenerating layer by layer, becoming more fearsome by the moment. Their muscle structure and flapping scales began to tighten and gain additional definition as the creatures stood there, completely paralyzed in their upright positions, only their eyes betraying any understanding of what was going on. The two hunting Blurgs were not the only creatures effected by the Doctor's careful attentions. Just as the Blurgs were seeming to rapidly age in reverse the Cruel Crockadilian's new rodent assistant began to age in the correct direction, though far faster than it should have until it disappeared to almost dust, and a similar process was happening to another pair of equally destitute creatures in the dark apothecary's stables. Once the process was complete and the vitality of youth returned to their hunting mounts the Surgeon opened his eyes and turned his fanged smile to his host.* "Usually my patients pay a proper fortune for such a treatment, consider this a gift for your hospitality" *An edge of madness tinges his laugh as the Sith nimbly swings up and into the saddle of his mount.* "Let the hunt begin."
*Reaching out with his mind the sith focused his will on his mount, crossing past the primitive mind of the beast and toward it's basic functions, slaving his will to the creatures body, edging out it's native consciousness and making the beast truly an extension of the hunter, feeling and commanding it's movements like no other rider ever could, laughing with joy as hunter and mount moved as one out of the gate, leading the party in the direction of the village, the hunter reveling at the hunt and the dust left in his wake, both that of his own creation and that native to the planet itself.*
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Apr 7, 2024 6:05:53 GMT -8
Standing by in observance of Darth Orvos' latest feat of Force manipulation, a rare moment of clarity came upon the chaotic maelstrom of disturbingly creative thoughts that served as the Dark Apothecary's mind, as though his subconscious had entered the calming eye of the great storm of criminal insanity and religious fervor that served as his standard state of existence. This was what now, the fourth time the Sith surgeon had performed a spectacle of mystical prowess? First there was the goo-ifying of his door-mouse, second he had altered the very cells of his body in a ferocious physical transformation, third he had summoned a sorcerous spear from a fold in space-time, then lastly this most recent transference of life essence. Possessing the skill to perform any single one of those advanced abilities would have impressed him, but the usage of all four in such a short span of time since Orvos had arrived gave the Hungering One the impression that the good doctor was doing his very best to show off. Dragus scowled. The impulsive urge to bask in ones own power by putting on performances of sorcerous power was all too familiar to the Famine Lord, who recognized it for what it truly was: the folly of youth. In his experience this was a common behaviour of ambitious young Sith; however, if Orvos intended to prove himself capable with these feats of considerable Force talent, he needn't have bothered. Dragus had already determined the predatory physician's worth when he'd first scented him aboard the Nullus Beacon. Besides, he would have much preferred the good doctor save his reserves of energy for the journey ahead. He would require every last drop of it if he intended to come out alive on the other side.
When it came time to take command of his own mount, the black scaled barabel's approach was somewhat different from his companion's, relying instead more on material than mental means of coercion. The scheming saurian reached into his trusty alchemy satchel and produced a sealed freezer baggy of bantha jerky that had been brined in lylek blood, an insectile species from the blurrg's native world of Ryloth. As he unsealed the bag, all it took was a little taste of home to warm the rider to his bipedal reptilian mount, as he fed the creature the entire bag of jerky. While it munched away on the tough strips of hide, Dragus climbed onto its back and eased himself into the saddle, taking its reigns in claw. He gave them a quick snap, startling the blurrg into motion as it began to trot out of the stable, then gave chase as Ovos and his own beast sprang ahead, taking the lead out the castle gates. He raised a claw to his right eye, shielding it from the dust kicked up in his companion's wake, until he brought his own mount up beside his fellow Sith's and matched pace with him for a time.
Outside the dark and ominous VonDragenfel Keep, the tortured landscape of Kessel's southern hemisphere was equally as foreboding, as a scorched and burnt out husk of a formerly lush forest stretched out before them. The leafless trunks that remained were pillars of grey ash and black charcoal that seemed to reach towards them in the perpetual gloom with twisted branches covered in ragged patches of blistered bark. A luminous green mist settled as a shroud a few inches above the ground, dispelling briefly as they passed before rushing in again to fill the void they had left. The obscuring veil made discerning a path or trail next to impossible, but fortunately the Great Devourer was familiar with the countryside around the Keep. He made a gesture to Orvos to slow before gently pulling back on his blurrg's reigns, bringing the creature to a more manageable pace as they neared the first village.
"It didn't need to be thiz way." He-Who-Hungers said, removing his left claw from the reigns and motioning with it to the ashen forest. "We were magnanimouz in our conquessst, offering the opulently dresssed noblez of thiz world a choice that waz not given to the slavez that toiled beneath the sssurface in the darknesss of the ssspice minez. Sssubmit or die." The same claw he had extended folded into a fist, clenched tight enough for his scales to creak like old leather. "They refusssed, if you can believe it. I found that defiance...offensssive. It did not sssit well with me. An example had to be made." He offered a shrug, as though putting to torch a continent meant nothing to him. "Unbeknownssst to the Infernuz Squadz of the 13th Legion who enacted the Ey...pardon, the Sssupreme One'z judgment on thiz brave but ultimately missstaken population, the resssulting immolation had sssome unforessseen effectz on the environment. The heat baked the kessselstone depositz in the sssoil, causssing them to leach toxic kesssoline vapourz that killed off or altered what few lifeformz essscaped the firez of our righteouz crusssade. Mossst interesssting of thossse transformationz waz the effect it had on the local peasssantry within Kesssel Castle'z adjoining fiefdom. Extended exposssure to the vapourz causez mossst humanoidz ssskin to begin to molt and ssslough off." He studied Orvos' own altered feature's as he explained. "An unintended but ussseful boon to Project Manticore, which waz in desssperate need of a sssteady sssupply of epidermiz. The Ssspice Knightz of the Keep rode out often to collect thessse skinz az a form of tithe and taxation."
The skin rot came first, but was followed shortly after by a degradation of the mind, eventually leading to a full on impulsively feral state that could not be reasoned with. If he failed to mention these ghouls, it was only because he was certain they would encounter them soon enough.
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