Post by Sabre on Sept 25, 2005 10:29:18 GMT
The weathered rock of the ancient chamber crumbled beneath the Sith’s heavy footsteps. He was marauding through an ancient tower, one that many thousands of years ago had belonged to him. He swiftly passed by thousands of windows, the sky outside scorched with thunder and flame. His eyes glanced across the hallways, it seemed like just yesterday he had been ordering his men to their work in the polished and respectable halls of his might empiric citadel, however it wasn’t just yesterday, it was many ages ago, and now all that was left of his empire, were skeletal representation of fruition.
It almost saddened him to see such vast decline throughout the galaxy, his most hallowed Sith had forsaken the old ways in homage of an unworthy and blasphemous witch, who cared not about traditions, but instead about modernization and renovation. He would have his vengeance, and it would not be merciful, he would have his revenge, and it would not be respectful. But first, it was time to see who would answer his call.
He took his final step atop the staircase he had been travelling, diversely checking behind him for spies. He then moved forward, placing his hand on the ancient gold door, hinged against the decaying wall. As it slowly crept open, the room beyond was revealed. It was made of black marble, inscribed in ancient runes and symbols. The floor was etched with a giant map of the galaxy; each planet had its own indentation in the map. Small crimson orbs occupied the planets that the Sith owned, or at least did own. He stomped over this though; his attention was instead upon the giant marble throne at the end of the room.
In the throne sat a skeleton, a man wearing Sith battle armour and clutching a staff, the staff of leadership. So this had been his replacement he thought. Without a second though he snatched the staff away from the skeleton, holding it in his tight grasp. As he did so the skeleton burst into an inferno of blackened flame, turning it into a pile of ash in seconds. “I’m back,” he cried out, and the reply was an orchestra of ungodly shriek’s and howls; the spirits of old.
“Why have you returned?” the sickening voice of Drall the decapitator cried.
“To bring the Sith back into power,” he said patriotically.
“Oh but the Sith are in power, Adena, the mighty, the great,” a sarcastic voice sounded. “Besides, its not like your much better, fleeing to exile,” the voice said again. “I was commanded to do such by my master,” Fury said, defensively.
“Don’t get me started on Ominus, you were always favoured far beyond him, and look what he turned you in to,” said another phantomic voice.
“Ominus will be dealt with in time, I will die rather than give the throne up to him, he will allow me the rank of Dark Lord or he will die,” Fury said firmly.
“Well your hardly in a position to gun for it are you, you and your five man army…” he was cut off by another voice, “all of which we disapprove of,” the other voice added. “Well… I was hoping you could help me with that,” he said darkly, glancing about shadily. “Why should we help you, you never helped us, left us to die.”
“And I am sorry, however now is not the time to throw blame, we cannot allow Adena to tarnish our great name,” he said.
“Agreed, we need to formulate a plan, build an army, retake our lost territories.” Said a new voice.
“I have a plan,” Drall stated “I will tell you all of it, but first, wraiths.”
“All prepared for,” Fury said proudly. He placed his hand out and from the bottom of the steps; the force dragged slaves. Almost as soon as they had entered the room a green aura emanated from the walls. The aura pierced through the flesh of each slave, and one by one, their bodies were sent into a spasm.
“These will do,” Drall said as the slave bodies slowly began to rise, their eyes glowed green and their bodies were bedraggled. “Most of us are unable to posses, we’ve been fighting the force off so long; to be reinstated in to a body would drag us into it. I’ll set these to work, start off our plans, now about my idea”…………………
It almost saddened him to see such vast decline throughout the galaxy, his most hallowed Sith had forsaken the old ways in homage of an unworthy and blasphemous witch, who cared not about traditions, but instead about modernization and renovation. He would have his vengeance, and it would not be merciful, he would have his revenge, and it would not be respectful. But first, it was time to see who would answer his call.
He took his final step atop the staircase he had been travelling, diversely checking behind him for spies. He then moved forward, placing his hand on the ancient gold door, hinged against the decaying wall. As it slowly crept open, the room beyond was revealed. It was made of black marble, inscribed in ancient runes and symbols. The floor was etched with a giant map of the galaxy; each planet had its own indentation in the map. Small crimson orbs occupied the planets that the Sith owned, or at least did own. He stomped over this though; his attention was instead upon the giant marble throne at the end of the room.
In the throne sat a skeleton, a man wearing Sith battle armour and clutching a staff, the staff of leadership. So this had been his replacement he thought. Without a second though he snatched the staff away from the skeleton, holding it in his tight grasp. As he did so the skeleton burst into an inferno of blackened flame, turning it into a pile of ash in seconds. “I’m back,” he cried out, and the reply was an orchestra of ungodly shriek’s and howls; the spirits of old.
“Why have you returned?” the sickening voice of Drall the decapitator cried.
“To bring the Sith back into power,” he said patriotically.
“Oh but the Sith are in power, Adena, the mighty, the great,” a sarcastic voice sounded. “Besides, its not like your much better, fleeing to exile,” the voice said again. “I was commanded to do such by my master,” Fury said, defensively.
“Don’t get me started on Ominus, you were always favoured far beyond him, and look what he turned you in to,” said another phantomic voice.
“Ominus will be dealt with in time, I will die rather than give the throne up to him, he will allow me the rank of Dark Lord or he will die,” Fury said firmly.
“Well your hardly in a position to gun for it are you, you and your five man army…” he was cut off by another voice, “all of which we disapprove of,” the other voice added. “Well… I was hoping you could help me with that,” he said darkly, glancing about shadily. “Why should we help you, you never helped us, left us to die.”
“And I am sorry, however now is not the time to throw blame, we cannot allow Adena to tarnish our great name,” he said.
“Agreed, we need to formulate a plan, build an army, retake our lost territories.” Said a new voice.
“I have a plan,” Drall stated “I will tell you all of it, but first, wraiths.”
“All prepared for,” Fury said proudly. He placed his hand out and from the bottom of the steps; the force dragged slaves. Almost as soon as they had entered the room a green aura emanated from the walls. The aura pierced through the flesh of each slave, and one by one, their bodies were sent into a spasm.
“These will do,” Drall said as the slave bodies slowly began to rise, their eyes glowed green and their bodies were bedraggled. “Most of us are unable to posses, we’ve been fighting the force off so long; to be reinstated in to a body would drag us into it. I’ll set these to work, start off our plans, now about my idea”…………………
