For so long these had been the companions of T’elion De R’lous, the spirit within the Finger of R’lous. With brief forays into the worlds of men, the worlds of action and adventure, where each time he drew one step closer to his destiny, he waited. Now once again he found himself alone and sequestered.

But this was a peaceful isolation, for he knew this would be the last. His time was soon at hand, the task for which he was summoned so many years ago would soon be completed.

And so he waited, the stored energies of the boy safely stowed, the powers of the device which he occupied neatly controlled, and the knowledge and desires of he who last wielded the Finger rolling in his mind.

Cold. A cold icier than death, more glacial than space itself.

The cold of utter despair.

I am coming, my Sire, she thought toward him, hoping a connection had been made.

The air in front of her ripped open, revealing living shadow. She stepped through...

...and found herself upon something that was not quite stone, staring up at the limp form of the Sorcerer Lord, who hung by blue-glowing manacles against something else that was not quite stone, some twenty-five feet above her head.

Even though she knew that time was of the essence, she could not refrain from taking an instinctive step backwards.

"I-- I know of this place," she said tersely before then reaching out with her powers to try to free the imprisoned Dark Lord of the Sith.

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Into the cold there comes a mote of warmth; into the dark there intrudes a spark of light...

Into the miasma of despair there comes a glimmer of hope...

I groan, shifting against the ties that bind me as from nowhere a welcomed familiarity washes over me. Slowly, oh so slowly, for the movement itself brings fire to my nerve endings, brings the sensation of muscles being yanked from their anchors, I open my eyes.

It is as if they are being shredded within their sockets.

With every bit of power I possess I struggle against the pain, the feeling, the overwhelming gloom and dark laughter which has held me here since--

Since when?

A momentary pause now as my mind sidetracks, traveling a road toward things of reality and sanity, back and back to the day--

That day.

The day the demons overran the Temple, the day I banished those who I now, oh so belatedly, recognize as true allies and comrades, the day I sent Her, my most beloved Chosen One, away from the screeching terror that Phrinnchatka had become.

Only yesterday it was, was it not--?

But now, no time to recall such things, no time to become lost. Now is the time to discover by what new and insidious means He has managed to torment me, giving me the will to seek this, the strength to open my eyes...

I blink. She is there.

I blink again, find the strength to shake my head. Squint to peer down upon the flame-headed form who stands, face frozen open-mouthed beneath me.

"I-- I--" I begin hoarsely, then can say nothing further. My head lolls; it is all I can manage to remain conscious.

[ 10-05-2005 02:33 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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Panthar, without hesitation, followed Graysith through the portal, winking at Galen and Terrin as he vanished through the dark rip in reality.

He stopped short as he emerged, nearly running into Graysith as she stepped backwards from her previous spot. Panthar moved to stand beside her and let his eyes move slowly up the wall to see what she was staring at. He stared in kind for a moment, the feelings of pain and despair so thick in the air. He finally turned his head to Graysith, who was still staring in a mix of disbelief and horror.

He looked to wall and reached a hand out to touch it. It was very much like the substance so abundant in the Darker Realms, a sickly soft rock that wasn’t quite a rock. He pushed hard with his good hand, leaving a deep indentation. He then pushed down and was able to lift himself a little.

He turned back to the Dark Lady.

“I may be able to climb,” he said. “But with this bad hand I’d feel better with Shayla here to do the levitation trick.”

She continued to stare upwards, shaking her head slowly. He stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Jharmeen,” he said softly. He repeated her name, more sharply. Her eyes snapped down to meet his, wide. “Jharmeen,” he said once more, softly. “We need to get him down. I can climb, but I would rather have Shayla here to levitate me. Do you know how to break the manacles?”

[ 10-05-2005 03:24 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Panthar Dantares ]

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Even as Panthar made his statement about needing some levitation, Shayla stepped through the portal, Erik on her heels. Slammed immediately with pain and despair coming from the Dark Lord as well as from other sources, Shayla momentarily rocked back on her feet, physically overwhelmed. Erik's steadying hand on her shoulder stopped her from falling completely back, and gave her the time she needed to gather her strength, her poise, and her thoughts.

"If we can get the manacles loose, I could definitely levitate you," Shayla responded to Panthar. Then she stepped up to Jharmeen, reaching out a supportive hand to then lay it upon one of her Chosen sister's shoulders. Her greeny-blue eyes met Jharmeen's violet pair. "Perhaps breaking his manacles would be easier if he had more strength to help us with as well?" Shayla then queried. "Granted, I can only heal through the Force, but it would at least be a start towards breaking that which binds him."

And perhaps in more than one sense...

"And with your strength as well..." Shayla continued to Jharmeen, her implications clear. With nothing further, however, Shayla turned to the Dark Lord, who was struggling to remain concious.

"Strange that they kept him alive, if he indeed posed a threat. What else were they up to, for this most certainly had to have something to do with the Master and his probable ally..." Shayla spoke quietly, her greeny-blues defocusing for a moment as she thought about this.

Shayla closed her eyes then, tossing her head back slightly, her lengthening blonde hair falling back as well. And with all the Force strength she could draw upon, Shayla stretched out to the Dark Lord, pouring all the strength she could into him, waiting for Jharmeen to do likewise with her All strength.

After all, they'd stand a much better chance at all this if Aelvedaar himself had the strength to fight back...

[ 10-05-2005 08:17 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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“Why indeed,” he muttered quietly. “Why keep him alive?”

Panthar studied the great Sith who dangled from the wall. He had obviously been there a long time, his hair had grown long and very un-Lord-like beard had crept out and now hung disheveled on his chin. Panthar pictured the pristine and awe-inspiring version he had met and feared, and this was but a pale mockery of that Sith. He looked tired, old, drained. Much like he had seen Phalomir look when he had been used by the Eye, but much more severe…

“Drained?” he asked himself. “Like they are using his powers…”

Panthar’s gaze turned to the blue glow around Aelvedaar’s wrists. It was not a solid color, but pulsed very slightly. The blue was actually a slow swirl of hues, moving in circles.

“Shayla,” he said softly. “Um, maybe it’s not such a good idea to get too involved there. If there is a link with whoever did this, you might get caught up in it…”

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Her staring look fell into the limpid pools of Shayla's greeny-blue eyes.

Greeny-blue... blue.

Blue.

Like the manacles which shackled the Dark Lord...

"It-- it is Sith magick which holds him, and more-- Shayla!"

Now strength and determination returned to her, flooding out of her violet eyes, every nuance of her body language screaming this, the Glyph ravening in an almost anticipatory manner.

"Keep giving him strength; there is more here, something bolstering his own strengths; it is a combination of many magicks...

"...and the All. We need magicks to combat this!"

Now she whirled around, seeking the young Aeylmaar. He was not to be seen, having chosen to remain behind with the sphere that would allow them egress from this terrible realm.

Despair threatened again; with a grunt, she staved it off.

"My Sire, we need your-- wait."

Now Panthar's softly murmured comment came to her ears.

"Like they are using his own powers..."

"Shayla, stop!"

Whirling about, she placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder and squeezing hard yanked her from her concentration.

"He weakens... but as he does so, so do the manacles by which he is bound; see, even now they flicker."

All eyes turned upward; all beheld the same truth Panthar had pointed out.

"He weakens enough to where we might help him; Shayla, I need your strength that I might conserve mine. Quickly, raise me to him that I might smite the shackles and free him before--"

She gulped, shook her head to fling away gathering tears.

"Before he dies."

Closing her mouth with an almost audible snap she then turned her attention back to the dangling Sith Lord. Only now within her hand was the shining edge of the Blade of Chaos--

--in which was housed another Sith Sorcerer of not inconsiderable strength in the arts of magick and sorcery.

[ 10-05-2005 09:25 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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And Shayla would see to it that she remained there steadily, for as long as it took to free Lord Aelvedaar.

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Then he raised his head, and with an effort so obvious it was painful, stared her straight in the eye.

Desist... that look seemed to say, one last command coming from Sire to Chosen One.

"Not while I draw breath," she murmured softly. The look in his eyes softened, and a ghost of a smile flicked about his torn and dried lips. Then with a terrible sigh his head fell back down upon his chest.

She dared not delay any longer.

"Ragorian, your aid!"

Whether the words were born on the back of a battle cry or vice versa, none could say. But they left her lips with the vigor of a herd of stampeding rontos, managing to echo about the chamber despite the eerie consistency of the rock of which it was made.

She swung the blade once, then again.

Shards of fiery red met with roiling blue, underscored with a final flicker of greeny-gold that burst out briefly, only to fade away.

As did the manacles, which released the Dark Lord to fall toward the quasi stones of the chamber floor.

[ 10-05-2005 09:48 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Panthar’s thoughts were interrupted by the movement, and he sprang forward quickly as the Dark Lord began his sudden descent to the ground. Panthar reached out and caught Aelevedaar in his arms, shifting his own weight below him so as to not stumble. The Sith was lighter than Panthar expected, and he stood silently while he waited for Shayla to return Jharmeen to the ground.

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...then paused once more. "Shouldn't we get out of here, now?" she queried, falling silent then with a questioning brow.

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"I thank you, my ally," she sent along the link they maintained with each other, pulling the flat of the blade to lay against her brow and arch of her nose. Then she smoothly sheathed it in her thrimm, coming to a feather-light landing beside Shayla even as she finished the move.

"I agree," she said curtly, nodding. Waiting for no reply, not willing to give the evil within this non-place any further opportunity to bring them possible harm, she closed her eyes to reach out once more toward the young Sith sorcerer.

A smile crept about her face as the connection was made, and she found herself in the warm corridors of his mind. Then, the motion by now as natural to her as breathing, she raised a hand and ripped a tear in the fabric of space and time, opening up a portal to return them back into another realm that men would not term real.

But one much more desirable than the hideous non-reality of the Darker Realms.

A puff of air escaped her as, relieved, she stepped back into the dark chamber where the others waited. After making certain that all were with her, she let the portal close altogether, then turned to Panthar who yet held the Sith Lord in his arms.

"How is he? Shayla, your aid..."

Taking another fortifying breath she then reached out with her own talents to begin the healing process within the body of her Sire, knowing Shayla would soon be joining the effort, aware of a rush of air as the young Aeymaar came up beside her to lend his own powers to the task at hand.

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“And now, my son,” he called out. “The true lessons in love and pain begin. Soon you shall beg me to allow Him entrance.”

He cracked the whip towards Phalomir, catching him in the side. Phalomir roared in pain and rolled his side, exposing his back to the Master. The Master cackled and prepared for another strike.

Then he felt it. From somewhere, he was being watched. He scanned the room, seeing no one but the imps and his son. He let his feelings seek out the intruder, and caught the very slight energy from a very familiar source.

The Shar’tak, he thought. So, they have returned to the Armorers to find me.

“Come for him,” he said quietly. “We shall be waiting.”

He waved his hand above his head, feeling the power of the Shar’tak. Being a device created through his own powers, he felt it easily. He grasped for it, caught it with his powers, and severed the connection. He paused for a moment, smiling at the irony. He then turned his attention back to Phalomir.

“Well, my son,” he called out, pulling the whip back behind him. “Your whore wishes to watch you but does nothing to stop this.” He cracked the whip into Phalomir’s back, bringing a fresh pair of wounds that immediately leaked a stream of violet blood. “She hates what you have brought into her life, what pain you have caused her. You have done her a great wrong, my son, and you are impure because of it. You must be cleansed! First you must suffer the anguish that you have forced upon her.”

Another crack of the whip sent Phalomir’s body arching tightly.

“Then you must give retribution, and accept that you were not meant for her, nor anyone in the realm of light.”

Another crack, another set of wounds. Phalomir’s back was taking the appearance of a macabre child’s game of sticks.

“Then you will be pure, and shall be given powers beyond your wildest imagination, powers that shall save all of the realms. I shall be proud, my son.”

The Master paused, looking upon Phalomir with eyes that could be mistaken for loving. Then his face darkened once more, and he scowled.

“But first, we must drive away your sins and free you from the feelings you harbor for that witch!”

The whip cracked in a fast series, leaving a dozen more fresh wounds along Phalomir’s back. Phalomir stopped moving with the blows, and concentrated on remaining conscious, constantly channeling power to the magick field that held in the contents of his abdomen.

The word came out, quiet and dark, from the shadows, followed upon the heels by the form of the once Sith Lord. Having overseen the training of the imps until he was raging with their general ineptitude regarding all things of a military nature, he had scorched his generals and set the others off to run the perimeter of the Darker Realms.

Which of course would not be accomplished immediately, as fleet as a demon might be.

Bored then, he had returned to the Tower, anxious to either watch or partake in the tortures his compatriot was inflicting upon Phalomir, debating with himself whether or not it would be useful to impart upon the nearly broken form some of the more dubious delights his former partner, Entaris, had so relished.

Now he sighed as he stepped forth, shaking his horned head in disgust.

"How quaint," he rumbled, coming up to Phalomir's head, there to stand while the whip cracked and sliced, sending gouts of violet blood flying with every strike. His lips curled a moment; then he sobered as Aelomir's words came to him.

"Really, my friend," he stated, coming up and catching his whip hand in his own large and powerful one. His claws sank deeply into the Master's wrist, drawing yet more blood which flowed sluggishly down his upraised arm.

"Have you had enough of such paltry entertainment? Granted, I can see the delight in the punishment of so wayward a son, but have you not gained enough in this to allow him entry?"

He paused a moment, his vivid turquoise eyes peering deeply into those of the Master.

"Such a dark streak within you, to feel the need to break him before you kill him... but time grows short, I am afraid. Perhaps you'd better be finished with him altogether before he manages to put two and two together, even in his weakened state, and sees what you are trying to do.

"I fear he will let his body die before his spirit completely breaks, and that will do us no good. Besides--"

He let go of the Master's hand now, turning round to stare down upon the groaning Phalomir. His lip curling, he delivered a resounding kick into his wounded side.

"Why would you allow such Power to enter into this rag, when indeed what you really desire is for it to enter into you? Is there not a risk that this one could use it against us; that he is stronger than you thought is obvious, for he has not broken yet."

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“No, my friend,” he said. “I do not desire the power to enter into me, nor into you, nor anyone else. As arrogant as you are, even you understand why it must be Phalomir. We are calling forth the ragnarok, whose time is well beyond any of ours. Remember our mutual goals, my friend. One Sith, united. A triumvirate of power united in one supreme Dark Lord. But it is for nothing if the galaxy collapses under the weight of invasion while the ones with the power to stop it lay bickering over trivial nonsense. He will break.”

The Master sighed.

“Once the power of the Darkest One comes to us, this temple shall channel its spirit into Phalomir. Only he carries the marks of all clans, and the power shall ignite them all. You know well as I where the powers of the clans derive, and all of the old Lords shall feel their powers of entitlement vanish. With his mind open and free from hope or bonds, then he shall be ours to command. When the invasion is halted, with no threat of another, then we shall have succeeded in securing our future and he is yours. Once you have bred him with her then we have no other use for him… or her.”

The Master took several steps towards Roan.

“Ankrist, you must have patience. Personal vendettas must wait, it was the Eye that killed your physical form, not Phalomir. See him for what he is, not for what he was. He is our future, our puppet, and our stud.”

Almost as an afterthought, he spoke.

He was not sly.

"I have yet to understand why, if the coming of the Power evaporates the powers of Entitlement, why all three will not disappear as well from this...

"Thing."

He gave Phalomir another kick, then still looking down upon his body sighed.

"She has not, I am afraid. I do not know what it is that delays her so; shall I go speak with her, or is it necessary that she discover them without any assistance from us?"

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“The entitlement will not vanish from Phalomir, my friend,” he said with a saintly air, “for it is those very marks of entitlement that shall drain the powers from all others. The Sith are the first race, the prime. We are one with all realms, and it is from that relationship that we shall save our galaxy.”

The Master mused to himself for a moment, then added a smirk.

Not waiting to see who followed she whirled and stepped into that awful place, sliding from one indescribable dimension into another.

There, she took a step forward, then another. Ahead of her, a blotch of non-light in a realm which shied from it to begin with.

"My shield... it yet exists," she breathed to herself, somewhat surprised to find that this was indeed so. Then she shook herself from the momentary lapse, raised every guard she possessed, and waited to see who would follow her into the rift she had created.

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Shayla took a deep breath to steady herself, keenly aware that danger laid in their pathway...

...but likewise keenly aware that that powers could be defeated when outwitted.

And this had been done before...

Casting a greeny-blue gaze towards Terrin, Galen, and the two Eagle Enterprises employees, Shayla could remember a day or two...[/i]

Dismissing the thoughts then, Shayla turned to her husband, who waited by her side, the worry in his brown eyes clearly evident.

"What if we don't..." he started, only stopping as she covered his mouth with her hand, gently.

"We do," she replied simply. "We do."

Then, without further preamble, Shayla stepped through the portal just behind Jharmeen, knowing that her husband had joined at her side as she did so.

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Gripping Terrin's hand with vise-like intensity I lurched out into the weird darkness of this place, so aptly named. The ground was weirdly soft and squished unpleasantly beneath by feet as I moved another hesitant step forward, thus allowing Oni and Panthar a bit more room as they too came through the rift.

Then I stopped, my eyes glued to the sight of my sister and the blonde, the latter holding onto the hand of the jedi, all three with their backs to me as they stood silently before an even stranger blotch of non-ness.

I shivered a little, hunkering closer to Terrin, for I recognized what it was lurking there ahead of us in the general gloom and doom of this place. I mean, I might not exactly understand what it was, specifically, but I sure as there's Treasure on Roon knew what it could do.

"Wh-watch out," I murmured in a tiny whisper, as if to speak any louder might be all that was needed to draw unwanted attention to us.

Which, come to think of it, might just be all that was needed.

I clamped my lips shut and tiptoed forward, coming to a stop to the left of my sister, Terrin's hand still solidly planted in mine.

[ 10-19-2005 02:39 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Galen ]

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Even as they stepped into this new realm, Jasyn had already decided he didn't like it. And, judging from the fact that no one seemed to be in any great rush to move anywhere, Jasyn's senses went on the alert rather quickly...

...and even with having to look through some of the others, Jasyn could see that there was, quite literally, a black blotch of absolutely nothing in front of them. And Graysith and Shayla and perhaps even Erik Kartan didn't seem all that surprised.

Oooookay...what was going on here again??

"Ummm...and now?" Jasyn queried softly, but not without a bit of suspicion and hesitation in his words.

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"This is a chronotic shield I placed about the actual Valley of the Dark Lords, to protect the Eternal Flame from being used by Roan after he transferred the valley here from its original home on Korriban."

She paused a moment, then continued only now there was a trace of iron in her voice.

"Unless it is for the benefit of the Greater Good, only the one who implaced a chronotic shield may remove it."

Now she turned her head and spoke over her shoulder to the others.

"Which only substantiates our beliefs that, whatever it is the Master is up to, it is not to the benefit of all that is. But now--"

She turned back to the eerily substantial void in front of her.

"We need to gain access to the Eternal Flame, that we might gain knowledge of where in these dark places Roan and the Master are. For, while I was indeed a prisoner in his dark tower, I do not know exactly where in this realm that is."

Speaking no further she merely closed her eyes, letting her head roll back as the Glyph on her forehead burst into electromagnetic life. It pulsed and roiled, sending ultraviolet radiance outward in all directions, to bring a spot of warmth into a place where none existed, to bring a modicum of light to a place in which it was shunned.

And to drop the shield she had erected, over a year ago.

The radiance struck the blotch, blending with it, worming its way into its very interstices before, with a nearly audible groan, that non-ness seemed to shrink in upon itself, roiling and churning in kind as it grew less dense, less dark, lesser in size and scope.

Until at last it was no more.

In front of them was a canyon, one limned with silent statues bearing multi-colored eyes, all in regal robes, all bearing strange weaponry.

All horned. All Sith.

She drew in a breath and cut a fast glance to Shayla, but the words she spoke were for the sakes of all present.

"Take a care, my friends, for this place calls out to that darker side inherent to us all."

Without saying anything further she simply stepped forth and began to scale canyon's tabled slopes, soon disappearing deep within its shadowy depths.

[ 10-19-2005 09:16 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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