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Darth Verrin

Imperial Kaar
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2,067 The One

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About Darth Verrin

  • Rank
    Kaar of Ancient Knowledge
  • Birthday 07/20/1970

Profile Information

  • Alignment
    Corruption III
  • Social Point Purchases
    2 Protocol Droids - Gifted to Vanessa and Holle (-4)

    Mission Rewards
    Combat Stimulant Injector
  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    CT
  • OOC Account
    Darth Verrin
  • Social Points
    71

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  1. There's Nothing You Can Do

    Verrin went from glowering, to sighing, and then to palming his own have in one hand. He groaned a little bit, and wiped his hand downwards over his face, as if wiping away a clod of mud... or dung... that had been thrown at him. He then corrected the student. "No, Kitsuchi, no. You assume far, far too much. The droid is NOT 'stuck' in the jungle, as you put it. And it didn't find its way home on its own. It was brought back here - luckily for you - by one of the residents of this planet. Also - fortunately for you - that resident is a Sith, and had the common sense to NOT leave such a device out there where it COULD BE FOUND BY SOMEONE ELSE!!" The last few words rose in volume along with Verrin's anger. But he quickly caught himself, and brought it back down a notch. "I'm sure you DO have the funds to replace it, young man. Just as I have the 'funds' to replace YOU. But that is not our lot in life, at the present time. We are not at liberty to simply dispose of droids, or potential Sith, and 'buy new ones'. We have to cherish what we have, and TAKE CARE OF IT." He caught himself again. But just then, the young man was offering possible punishments for himself, and Verirn's anger quickly flooded right back in. In one rapid motion, he withdrew an overlong lightsaber hilt from his robes - the kind that was used as a double-ended staff, and not simply a single blade. He thrust the hilt out towards the boy, stopping just as he touched the redhead's chest. His thumb was on the activation mechanism, and a furious look emanated from his eyes. He said through gritted teeth, "Perhaps you didn't hear me, Kitsuchi. I just explained that destroying property and potential Sith is wasteful and dangerous. So if you're telling me to execute you, then either you aren't listening very well, or you aren't a potential Sith." He then withdrew the weapon, tucking it back from whence it came. His yellow eyes scanned the room, looking for particular people he knew - his apprentices, @Vanessa Sallin, or @Holle. Or maybe @Darth Renatus herself - the one who had brought the droid back from the jungle. Even @Darth Sanguira, or @Meracus would have left an impression on this boy, though Verrin doubted he'd see the likes of the Darth in the Training Pits. He felt any one of them - or all of them - could help teach the boy some respect for the Sith. But even if none of them were around, there were plenty of young women present - aspiring Sith, and even non-Sith who were practicing to pursue more military-focused careers. There were all kinds of possibilities, and longer Verrin looked over them, the more he thought he saw eyes wrinkling, noses twitching, and lips curling in dark smiles. "If you are unable, or unwilling to listen to me... if prior instruction hasn't worked... then I can only hope that somehow, your peers will be able to educate you better on the importance of discretion and responsibility in these difficult times. You will hereby serve as 'towel boy' for the next three weeks," he added a week for good measure, "During that time, I am SURE that your fellow Sith will help you learn the lessons you need. They, being closer to you, surely know best how to get through to you."
  2. Strong Stance

    The Recruit's skin shifted beneath his fingertips, like a chameleon, as it tried to imitate his skin tone. His was a dusky purplish-gray, but it was so covered in black tattoo work, the instinctual reaction was working hard to match him. The reaction to his touch was interesting, but didn't remove Verrin's focus on the young woman's eyes. Even her lips were tertiary, as she uttered her question, "Where do I begin?" Verrin smiled at her, and answered, "You're already here." He finally removed his hands, meaning for the touch to be punctuating, not creepy. And he took a step back and nodded, "I think you're a person who has come to the right place, at the right time in her life. You have so much to learn, it is difficult to say exactly where to start. But definitely keep up your physical training, here in the Pits. The Overseers will aid you in that regard, and help you find training in the traditional sense, as well as training in other weapons skills you may or may not possess. Then, there is always the Library - if you're a Recruit, then you're already registered with permission to be there. Seek knowledge, Recruit Wry - for Knowledge is power. Start with the Code, as I told it to you - learn it, memorize it, make it your own. And then, perhaps the trickiest part, will be getting you to find that sweet spot - that place where you can tap into the Force more confidently, more consistently. Meditation is the technique that most Sith use, for that, but not everyone 'assumes the lotus position' in a quiet place to do so. I've seen some Sith meditate during physical exercise - running, or repetitive tasks that help their minds refocus. Others use saunas, or massage therapy - though I'd argue, that a good masseuse will put me to sleep before I ever find mental focus on their table. Still others use sensory deprivation tanks, or more traditional incense and candles. I even know one Sith who found their focus through acts of lovemaking. You will have to determine which one works best for you. I, myself, am more of a traditionalist in the sense that I find a relatively quiet place, and simply sit. If you have trouble finding that focus, seek me out in the Library, and I'll do what I can to assist you. There is a protocol droid there, named Maggie, who manages my appointments. Simply speak to her and request time - she'll find a way to fit you in. Or if you encounter one of my apprentices - Holle, or Vanessa - they can assist you too." Verrin turned then, looking like he was about to go. But he paused long enough to speak once more. "You show great promise, Recruit - even at this early stage. I won't lie - you've a long road ahead of you, and the training is not 'easy'. But I promise that if you can get through it, if you can keep at it, and continue to make progress, then you will become all that you imagine you can be - and more. You will be a goddess among sentients, and perhaps more importantly, your people - whoever they are. Make me proud, Sutem Wry."
  3. There's Nothing You Can Do

    One of the problems with being a Sith - more specifically, a Darth - was that one had a certain aura in the Force that was difficult for those attuned to such things to miss. Add to that the rank of Kaar within the now-defunct Empire, and Head Librarian, and anonymity was almost entirely wiped away. Add to THAT, the face of the head of the Academy, and it was nigh impossible for Verrin to go anywhere without SOMEone noticing him. Today was a perfect example of that difficulty. He could have walked up to the redhead who practiced his Niman in the Pits, and maybe - maybe - not have been recognized. But would all the others trainees also fail to recognize him? The Overseers certainly wouldn't miss his presence. And anyone of the rank of Master would have either crossed paths or sought assistance from him at one point or another. So simply walking somewhere in the Academy wasn't always the best option. Fortunately, Darth Verrin was a long-time practitioner of the Force. He simply moved into the Pits without being seen, cloaked completely from the eyes and ears of those around. His stealth didn't hide his aura in the Force, and one Overseer who was more aware - or more bored with the proceedings - flinched when Verrin passed invisibly by. It was as if he'd been touched by a warm breeze, or perhaps the buzzing of a mosquito disturbed him. The Overseer dismissed the former, and decided on the latter because, frankly, mosquitoes in the jungle were far easier to explain away than odd feelings in the Force. Verrin's silent, unseen steps led him to stand directly behind the bench where the redheaded student sat. To his credit, he'd won the sparring match he'd just had. but Verrin wasn't concerned with that at the moment. He finally let the cloaking energy of the Force fall away from him, leaving him standing like a dark shadow, looming over the teenager. And only then did he speak. "You." One nearby sparring match came to an abrupt halt, as the Acolyte facing towards Silas saw Verrin appear. He nearly dropped his training saber in surprise, and the other student took advantage, getting in two quick hits and forcing the distracted Acolyte to fall back in pain. Verrin continued. "You're the one who let the training droid get out of the facility, and then failed to return it. Haven't your instructors beat into your head that we cannot afford such mistakes - that if news of our whereabouts gets out to the public, that the Jedi and Republic will descend upon this planet to finish the job they failed to complete at Dromund Kaas?! Are you in need of further instruction, boy? Do you feel some kind of punishment would be out-of-hand? A week or two in the sanitation department, for example? Do you not realize just how much danger you put the entire SITH organization in with your callous carelessness?!?! Is there ANYthing you have to say for yourself that will keep me from killing you outright - or at the very least, reducing you to towel boy in the women's lockers?! Choose your words carefully, Kitsuchi... WELL?!" There was a look on Verrin's face, even half-concealed by the cowl of his robe, that suggested this was no joke. By this point, the other sparring sessions had come to a halt, as every person in attendance turned to stare at the irate Master of the place. They were probably wondering if they had one less competitor in their midst - and every one of them hung, waiting on the next words that Silas would speak.
  4. Return to Sender

    Verrin grinned when he sensed Renatus outside his door. With a gesture, Maggie moved, opened the portal, and bowed graciously as she invited Renatus in. The two Guardians who stood outside the door remained there, masked and relatively motionless - but ever vigilant. Maggie shut the door behind Rentaus, and then proceeded to administer the beverage cart, delivering Renatus whatever she wanted - save for coffee. Apparently, coffee was in short supply, and was an ongoing thorn in Verrin's side - though whether that was known to Renatus or not was moot. Renatus sat, her robes flowing around her, and asked him, "Darth Verrin, If I remember correctly I believe I owe you some answers to a few questions?" Verrin set aside whatever he had been working on, adding a datapad to the pile of others arranged on his desk in no conceivable order. And then he clasped his hands and rested them on the desk in front of him before speaking, as if he was trying to figure out just how to broach the subject on his mind. Seeming to come to some conclusion, he began. "I have something of a grand plan... though I'm not sure how viable it is. I would like your knowledge of Dathomir and its inhabitants, your expertise in all you do, and your opinions on how I might accomplish this task. It's important for us to have goals, is it not?" He smirked. Maggie set a glass of some kind of amber liquid down beside him, but he didn't sip from it yet. He laid out his idea without foreplay. "I'm guessing you're familiar with the very first Sith. The ones from the time of Xo'Xann, Ajunta Pall and such. The ones who were labeled 'Dark Jedi', and who were exiled only to return, and blend their DNA with the race of Sith. I have consulted Xo'Xann's holocron, and learned some of the 'how' behind such a pairing, and I believe that I have the combination of will, skill, and means to do it again. I believe that through time, effort, and focus, we can bolster our numbers not just through the usual mating rituals of the various species, but by blending our DNA with that of the Dathomirian natives. In a manner much like our ancestors, who took the native Sith - so steeped in the Dark Side by nature - and created the 'Pure Bloods'... I'm thinking we can create something from the Force-infused peoples of this planet too. We can do more for the Sith, you and I, than merely training Acolytes every day. We can give birth to a new tomorrow. What do you think?" Still, Verrin did not sip. He waited eagerly - though 'patiently' might have been a stretch - and studied every line on Renatus' face. He'd been called 'mad' in the past, and nobody had proven it right or wrong. But what he was suggesting was beyond what the Sith, on a whole, had accomplished since 7,000 BBY. It was no small thing. But in his favor, Renatus probably knew some of Verrin's abilities in the Force, maybe even his knowledge of Alchemy. He thought she might remember the holocron of Xo'Xann being in the vaults. And he could only assume she remembered his efforts to defeat Darth Siren from a scientific, biologic angle. Verrin had been a bio-scientist before being Sith. She probably thought he was an idiot for not trying this sooner. Or... she might think him mad, after all.
  5. Strong Stance

    Verrin heard the chuckle, and almost did a double-take. Somebody had a sense of humor besides him? Somebody thought he said something funny, and laughed? He wasn't known for being particularly funny, and laughter - among Sith - was more often a creepy thing than a true, gut-felt, emotional response. It bought her time to get up though. His leg sweep had worked, and she took it well. He didn't follow-up with any kind of attack, so the spar reset itself, in a way. When they squared off again, and she sidestepped to his left side. Had he truly been fighting an opponent, he would have compensated with his own legwork, but in this situation, he wanted to see more of what she could do. Her upper hand came down, her fist intending to hit his shoulder. Again, he took the hit - it was hard, but not hard enough to break bones, and his shoulders were reasonably tough. Meanwhile, in a sort of pincer attack, her lower arm came at his midsection. That one, he deflected to one side. The traditional follow-up attack would have been to either grab her upper arm and flip her over, or lock her lower arm and move through her. Verrin did neither, and merely backpedaled a pace or two, to see how she would follow up - perhaps a kick, or an attempted grab. She did neither. But because he had been observing her through the Force during the engagement, he sensed when her power started to build. She got a distant look in her eye, as if she were looking into the past, or another dimension. And then her emotions fired - fear, perhaps - and the Force surged within her. She put forth one hand towards him in a stopping motion, just as all that Force energy hit a crescendo. Verrin was neither young, inexperienced, or stupid. He'd seen the move before - had executed it himself on many occasions. He, himself, refused to perform the outstretched hand gesture when he executed it - it telegraphed the move to enemies, allowing them to prepare for it, kind of like telegraphing a right hook by winding up for the punch. One could see it coming from a mile away. So he had time to prepare himself. His lethargic-combat moves suddenly ceased, and he went into full defensive combat mode. The force of telekinetic energy hit him like a wave of water - uncontrolled, but full of energy - lifting him into the air and shoving him backwards at least three meters. His reflexes kicked in, and he landed on his feet in a crouch - one hand extended towards the floor to better steady him. And then the wave of energy passed, and his yellow eyes stared at the young woman. If Verrin had been Sutem, his masters might have lashed out at that point, smacking him for attacking them in such a way. Other Sith might have beaten the girl for (presumably) lying about her knowledge of her Force abilities. But Verrin did neither. He saw what happened for the truth that it was. The woman got emotional, unleashed energy she didn't have full control over, and if he guessed right - would be both shocked and frightened about what she did. So instead of striking back, he stood up, laughed, and applauded. "Brav-o, Recruit!! Well done! And I don't mean cutting the chip out of your own neck - that was all fine and well too, but I'm talking about that release of Force energy just now. We'll have to work on control, of course, but to be able to do that at all... goodness, me. Well done!" He walked back over to her, completely unconcerned and unafraid. If there was any caution after being thrown from her, the Dark Lord didn't show it. He was even continuing to smile. "I said something earlier, that I may not have been quite clear on - that having affinity for the Force was something that doesn't have to change us unless we want it to. That's true, in a sense, but I also need you to understand that once you gain control of it - once you can tap into that energy at will, call on it, command it, then you will become something different - something more. You will no longer be 'just a person'... just a slave... just an information source... you will become a god among sentient beings. You will become a Force user." He made the distinction between being a 'god' and being 'Force user', because they weren't the same thing. The Jedi could be perceived as 'gods' too, but their philosophy left much to be desired. Verrin reached out purposefully, though not quickly or aggressively, and attempted to clasp the woman's cheeks with his hands. Any scaliness of her skin didn't seem to bother him. He used the gesture to keep her face focused on his, so he could make his point. "And if dedicated enough, you will become Sith."
  6. The Melancholy of Survival

    "Well... the story of the mythical blade was deeper than what I described," Verrin admitted. "The Dark Side demands recompense. So the stronger the power in the blade, the higher the cost. In my example, the blade gave energy to the wielder - when they slew an enemy, and the sword 'drank' their life, it invigorated the owner. But when there were periods of drought... when there were no enemies to slay, the owner got weaker, and weaker, as the sword fed from him to sustain itself. Their relationship was symbiotic and they needed one another. But... it's just a story. We could make a blade like that, but we could also do something different. My point is that, the stronger the enchantment on the weapon, the higher the cost. To this day, I still don't quite understand the price my master paid for the dagger. I know that I probably gave a day or two of my life in the creation of the single bullet you fired." He admired her focus and drive. He despised the Jedi, more than ever. But overall, he'd been displaced, not defeated. Tanit, obviously, felt much differently about the matter. Still... the idea of creating a weapon that would take the spirit of a Jedi, rather than let them 'return to the Force' as they believed... that was not only an intriguing notion, but a challenge. Such a weapon would be the stuff of modern legend - due a story of its own. Verrin nodded. "Between my knowledge of alchemy, and of holocrons... I believe this is not just a possibility, but a probability. It CAN be done. We could craft a weapon that would take a Jedi's spirit in their deaths, and trap it - not allowing it to return to the Force. First, we'll have to forge the weapon, and part of that effort will require the blood of a Jedi. I have to delve into the 'cron and learn the specifics, the exact runes, but we cannot truly begin until we have that vital component of midiclorian-infused blood. Get me that blood, and we can truly begin. But remember... discretion... we cannot let them learn of our existence... our location." Verrin had briefly debated making the trip with Tanit to capture the Jedi himself, but the tasks of the new Academy were too numerous and too pressing at this vital time in the Sith's existence. He wouldn't abandon his appointment without incurring the wrath of the Sith'ari. No - this particular price needed to be paid by Tanit herself.
  7. Strong Stance

    Verrin's knee missed, and his sparring partner sidestepped, following up with an arm underneath his leg - a sweep of sorts. He went with it, allowing the effort to take his feet from under him and dropping him to his back. It was a gentle fall, all things considered, and the air didn't even whoosh from his lungs. He didn't feel like the Force aided her in any way; she was merely using her youth, training, and dexterity to accomplish her moves. He commented on her 'owner'. "So... a slave, then? Interesting. I can't tell you how many stories I hear about how only the Empire kept slaves..." It felt very odd to refer to the Empire in the past-tense. "I've known the Hutt Cartel to keep them, and even segments of the Republic too. Although, if I'm being honest, I have never heard of a Jedi maintaining a slave... though some padawans might feel that way about their masters." Instead of getting right back up - he wasn't sure if his opponent would press her attack or not - Verrin spun himself on the floor, attempting to sweep the recruit's legs with one of his own. If it worked, great - if not, he would use the momentum of his spin to bring himself back upright again. At least, that was his intention. All the while, he chatted amicably enough, "So you what... escaped slavery? Or were you freed? Did something inadvertent happen to your trainer, or did you simply decide to pack up and go off to join the Sith?" He chuckled slightly. He'd never heard of anybody doing that last part. But then again, he'd never fought against a practitioner of Gravik-nez, nor had he formally met a Clawdite. So... anything could happen, really.
  8. Strong Stance

    Either to her skill, or her credit (or both), the young woman attacked him, but not in a particularly violent way. Verrin took the hit, which was mild, but he let out a light 'oof' in response, even as he delivered a somewhat slow counter to her arm in his ribs. If successful, it would allow him to pinch a nerve in her elbow, but he wasn't moving fast enough to execute it in a timely fashion, and even if he somehow did lay a hand on her, he didn't intend to cause pain - not yet, anyway. His Teras-Kasi style was designed to counter a strike and utilize a joint lock, but Verrin just wasn't trying that hard. Instead, he used the encounter to try to read the recruit's Force signature - to see if it was being used by her to anticipate his moves, even if it might seem to her like a second sight, or instinct. The Force often operated in people without their knowing it - a face he was all too aware of - and he believed that if she was already tapping into it without realizing, it, then instructing her might be much easier. For her part, she might notice that he wasn't moving like a combatant - and that was largely because he didn't consider himself one. Also, he only knew basics in his own form, and nothing at all about hers. But she she hit him, she would feel a fairly solid impact, because beneath his robes, he was in fit condition. If pressed, he could be strong and fast, and that was without the benefits of the Force - it had all been drilled into him through the past couple years of training. Hard training, he would admit if asked, especially given that he didn't love combat like many of his peers and students. He observed her through her eyes during the encounter, watching where they flitted and settled. They were pretty eyes, even if they were somewhat reptilian... or feline... he wasn't sure, but given her somewhat scaly skin, he guessed the former. He wondered briefly if they were double-lidded. He remarked to her, "Nice hit. Why did you choose this particular form? Many people do not appreciate the 'ancient' forms of anything, whether they are fighting styles, knowledge, or even people." He attempted a knee to her midsection - again, not attempting to double her over if he connected. He wanted to see how quickly she responded to the attack - and whether the Force aided her or not.
  9. Strong Stance

    " No, I did not. If I did, maybe my life would have been slightly different." The young woman replied, her surprise was refreshing in its honesty. She went on to answer his question - again, as honestly as he expected - and then she went into what she believed the galaxy made her into. When she closed her eyes, Verrin offered her a comforting hand upon the shoulder, if she would take it. Whether she did or not, he responded. "It's a pretty big thing to hear - an even bigger one to accept. I was like you, once... I had a life before the Sith, a life before the Force was ever in it. It doesn't have to change the person you are, unless you want it to." He offered a small smile, "And if you already understand the concept of peace - or a lack thereof - then you're a step ahead of many of your peers." He then took a step backwards, and changed topic somewhat abruptly. "The technique you were practicing. What is it called? I don't believe I've seen its like before. Why don't you explain it to me... and show me what you know. Here, now... come at me while you explain. But try not to hit me too hard. I'm old and fragile." The claim of his fragility was an absolute falsehood, but he delivered it with the same manner he spoke about the other topics, so it might be difficult for an unobservant person to tell if he was joking or not. But he did take up something of a combat stance, even if it was obvious it was not Gravik-nez. Verrin's stance was, instead, a form of Teras-Kasi (in case the Recruit was familiar with such things). He further explained, "I won't hit as hard as a training droid, nor will you find striking me to be like hitting metal and composites. Please... be gentle."
  10. Strong Stance

    Verrin was impressed. This recruit was better-spoken than most - no bluster, no lies, and no self-proclaimed knowledge of the Sith. But the wondered if she really knew what she was getting into, pursuing such a lifestyle. He responded to her comments about Coruscant first. "Of course... rabid dogs... right. Yes, I've heard those falsehoods. The thing is, the hierarchy is very close to what you describe. But it's not as simple as 'the strong survive, the weak fall'. If that was the case, I would have fallen long ago. I was never deemed particularly strong. To an outsider, we probably appear to be crazed animals, sure. We are not. I always likened the Sith more to spiders than mammals. When an eggsack of spiders hatches, the little buggers burst out everywhere. Some find food, and get bigger. Others devour their brethren and get bigger. Those larger ones then have to either find food outside, or feed upon each other - still, they get bigger, and fewer. Eventually, they stake out their own territories, and feeding grounds. Now because they are insects, humanity tends to see their methods as vicious, cruel, or as you put it 'rabid'. The fact is, it's simply their way - neither bad nor good, neither wrong nor right. And yet still, the Sith cannot simply devour one another indefinitely, lest we disappear altogether. We strive to be more judicious with our... meals. We make alliances, some even make friends. In any case, I'm glad you've figured this out on your own." He concluded, but began to pace around her, as if sizing her up. She didn't look particularly strong, but Verrin could sense that she had some affinity in the Force. What he couldn't tell, was whether she knew that or not. "As for the Sith Code," he continued to circle her, observing her and trying to gauge her reaction to the knowledge he was imparting. "It is a guide for our core beliefs. It states: Peace is a lie. There is only Passion. Through Passion I gain Strength. Through Strength I gain Power. Through Power I gain Victory. Through Victory my chains are Broken. The Force shall free me. The general gist of it is that we do not rest on our laurels - that strength is obtained through passion and effort, not through periods of peace. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, 'A body in motion, stays in motion - a body at rest, stays at rest'? We Sith, when we are 'resting' or 'at peace'... we are merely waiting for the next bout of movement and effort. You would do well to learn that Code, Recruit. Almost everything you do in your future among us will somehow reflect back upon it." He finally stopped pacing, coming to rest in front of her once more. There, he looked into her eyes again. "I sense the Force inside you, Recruit. Are you aware that you have an affinity for it?" "I wonder though, Recruit... why come to the Sith in particular? If you had believed those rumors to be true, why pursue us at all? Why find our hideaway, rather than joining a dojo, or military organization. Why not go to the Republic? Or the Jedi? I'm not saying I'm upset that you're here - that's simply not the case - but for you to advance here, there are sacrifices to be made. The life of a Sith isn't what most would call 'easy', and other organizations could grant you the power to cast off the shackles of your life. Why join us?"
  11. Strong Stance

    Without disengaging from the datapad, and in fact, looking back down at it, Verrin answered. "Well... that's a relief. I can't tell you how many sob stories I've heard about children being left by parents, holding grudges against them, and spending all their efforts seeking some kind of revenge. Revenge for what, I ask you? Revenge because the parents in question weren't capable? Revenge because of abandonment? I swear... the self-entitlement is staggering sometimes. Plus, one would think the entire Sith order was recruited solely on the backs of the galaxy's orphanages. That simply cannot be the case." He swiped through a few more screens, and then lowered his arm, disengaging from the device. He frowned slightly, bothered by the fact that there were no Overseers available at the moment. He then began to pace closer to the woman, entering the pit himself. All the while, he spoke to her. "No more shackles, hrmm? You may find it interesting that while the Code of the Sith speaks of freeing oneself from 'chains', it doesn't really speak to the reality of the situation. Every Sith has chains - or shackles - of one sort or another. Whether it's the lowliest of Acolytes, struggling to be free from their peers, or their own inhibitions, or the Emperor of a galaxy, who is shackled with the responsibility of rulership of people - we all have chains to bear, Recruit. The important difference in rank and experience among us, is that as we grow more powerful, we get to choose which chains we wish to bear. Some Darths choose roles as parents, chained by their children. Others choose lifetimes of instruction, chained to apprentices or students. Still others are shackled by the very power they seek to hold. If you've come here to be completely free of all shackles, Recruit, I'm afraid you're in for a lifetime of disappointment. But... if you're here to grow in strength to the point where you can choose the chains that bind you, then I believe you are in the right place." He stopped within arm's reach of her, looking her in the eyes. His own were alight with power, but his body language didn't hint at any anger or violence. "I am known as Darth Verrin - currently the master of this Academy, and the Library. Some call me Darth Verrin, others choose to call me simply 'My Lord'. It's a matter of respect, to use one's title or rank in addressing them. Among the Sith we still hold ranks and titles - we earn them. What will you become, I wonder? Will you be Acolyte Wry? Adept? Master Wry? Or will you pursue something more militaristic? Officer... Lieutenant? Ahh, but I get ahead of myself. Why don't we begin with something more basic. Are you familiar with the Sith Code, Recruit?"
  12. Strong Stance

    Verrin didn't usually help students, especially in the Pits. The training programs were seldom designed to be lethal, though the could be utilized to exert more of a challenge than the trainee was ready for. It was the way of the Sith - to teach survival, and that lesson couldn't be taught without some element of danger. But in the heat of the moment, in the throes of a training session, students sometimes forgot that the challenge would only render them unconscious, or unable to continue, and that they would spend time in thoughtful reflection (and recovery!) in the medical facility if they failed to meet the challenges they set forth for themselves. Usually, Overseers walked the fine line between a student and the programs, but none was present in this room, on this day. That wasn't so unusual, given the short staffing they were experiencing after the fall of Dromund Kaas. Verrin happened by when the student was in something of a pickle - it appeared she lost her concentration or balance, or some combination of the two, and the opposing training droid got in a strong kick to the student's breadbasket, knocking the wind from her. She had trouble recovering, by the look of things, and her eyes closed as the droid continued to advance. It appeared the bout was over, but the program would continue until the student was rendered unconscious - and prone. Mildly annoyed, Verrin swept the droid to one side, using the Force. He had to acquire more Overseers before someone got really hurt. Meanwhile, he took out a datapad and scanned the contents therein. He remained standing to one side of the pit, his usual nondescript, black, half-robe covering his upper torso, and its cowl drawn over his horned head. His black pants ended in very simple, but functional combat boots - the kind any student of the Academy would be issued. But his yellowed eyes peered out from the mass of black tattoos that covered his weathered face, and they flicked from the student to the datapad, and back again. When the woman called out, he replied in an unconcerned voice, "Hmmm... Says here, you're new, Recruit Wry. That is your name, correct? Recruit... answer me this. Why have you come to the Academy?" He didn't give his name, at first, and if there was any sign that he was bothered or interested in the fact she appeared to be a Clawdite, it didn't show. He merely stood, patiently awaiting her reply. The droid, that had landed in a heap, didn't offer any answers.
  13. Return to Sender

    Verrin smirked back. It almost felt like he was trying to take a feral cat into his home - or more accurately, a house cat that had left the home, become feral, and then returned. There would no doubt be a re-acclimation process, and the Force was unclear if that would be a successful one. But for now, there was the hope that the wild woman in front of him would return, to be a part of something larger than any one person. And perhaps, that was enough... for now. He chuckled at her self-assessment of adequacy, especially with the lip-biting that looked so out of place in her current face. The look further cemented the idea for him though, that there was hope she could come back from the wild. Not that she could be tamed - no, that wasn't right - but that she could not only readjust, but use her wild experience to be even more than she ever was before. She further added she would help him with his vision, and for that, he was grateful. "Titles may not mean anything to you or me, but we are at the top of our games. Titles are a means of creating order from chaos, of defining the structure for the younger Sith to grow in. We are gardeners - you and I - and while we could cast seeds afar and 'see what grows', we'll find more predictable and positive results by planting them, tending them, and occasionally, weeding them..." he paused there, perhaps implying that some Sith were not destined to rise to greatness. "Renatus, Renatus... how does your garden grow?" He added, quoting an old children's rhyme. "We may not care about the titles, but they give the students something to aspire to. At the very least, maintain the title of Darth - I think you've earned it twice over by now. And if you don't feel proud to wear that title, help me make it a thing the students will want to strive for once more." He smiled and moved to leave. "Rest up... freshen up... if you need anything, call on me. I'll respond as quickly as I'm able to. But whatever you do, please don't disappear again - the Sith need you, more than ever. I need you. " He bowed his head in respect, and left the room. For some strange reason, his nose ached. He reached up to touch it, and remembered when Renatus - well, back then, Ahashra - had clocked him. He smiled and muttered something about the Jedi and their unwillingness to experience their emotions.
  14. The Melancholy of Survival

    Verrin looked up from the dagger to Tanit's face, and deeply into her eyes. She meant what she was saying - he could read it on her features as well as the Force - she did value their relationship. He did too. Tanit probably could have planned and schemed, marched into his office, caught him in a moment of weakness, and broken him in half if he didn't agree to her demands. She was powerful enough to do just that, but she respected him enough to pursue this venue instead. He tucked the dagger back into its place, and leaned back on the bench, draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her in close. She felt firm to his touch, evidence of her physical prowess even in her advanced state of Dark Side affliction. He passingly wondered if her strength was her own, or if it too was fed from the Force. It was likely both, but his mind was on the more immediate conversation. He put his cheek to the top of her head. "It won't take as many sacrifices as all that to make the weapon. But when done, it may demand more 'sacrifices' all on its own. There is an old mythological story about a runed, black blade, called Stormbringer. If you believe such legends, it was borne by a pale white Sith named Oelric... or something like that. He carried it not only in his own galaxy, but across multiple ones - the very idea is so fanciful that it can only be a story. The myth claimed that Stormbringer was a black blade that devoured the souls of the people Oelric slew. It quite literally drank their spirits to feed its insatiable hunger - the hunger of the Dark Side set into the blade upon its construction. There was something about a sister blade too - Mournblade, or something... that's not important. Anyway... the point is, the story led me to look into Alchemy more deeply. This effect is replicable - there is a way to imbue a weapon with the Dark Side itself. But the catch is, if you wield it, you are also cursed to feed it, or it will slowly sap the power from the wielder. Knowing that, would you still want to forge such a weapon? Would you still want to wield the very embodiment of the Dark Side? I can tell you that there was a time where I would do anything to accomplish a goal. I captured a spirit - the Dark Side given ghostly form - and held it within me for a while. It didn't end well. As you well know, the Dark Side demands compensation for whatever it provides us." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and rubbed his thumb over her cheek and onto the breathing apparatus she used, as if making the point he was stating. "We could do it though... and it wouldn't take any grand number of Jedi to sacrifice. It would need only one. The problem is, in the state the Sith are in, how sdo we capture one without alerting the entire Council that we're out here... and more specifically, here. They would descend in hours, seeking to finish our extinction. Do you have a plan to capture one, lone, Jedi sacrifice?"
  15. Return to Sender

    "Verrin... Make the most of this time we have together." Renatus' words brought one of Verrin's eyebrows up. The tone was ambiguous. The words were too. When he'd spoken of them doing so much in the time they had left, he had been thinking of his own age, and venerability. But when she spoke, something younger twitched inside him. Was she speaking practically, in a similar manner to him, where the nature of being Sith on a hostile planet meant they needed to be all they could in the time they were given? Or was she waxing romantic, where contact with other Sith made her amorous, and the statement she made would lead them to the refresher together? A storybook encounter would ensue, complete with musical soundtrack, a steamy shower, and two old friends at long last coming together and celebrating one of the very things the entire Jedi order sought to avoid - passion. Ahashra - Renatus' name before she had transferred her essence - had known Verrin a long, long time. The body she now occupied was that of a younger woman named Nagh Khadath, a figure who had been taller, physically stronger, but most importantly, a suitable vessel to hold the power that was Ahashra. The end result, was a figure of a woman that Verrin would have pursued in his youth - strong in every sense of the word, and now, showing a hint of fragility. He smiled. He had to be imagining any kind of amorous signals from her. It was just so bizarre that he'd even have such thoughts at this point in his life - it had been so long since he had, that it was surprising they even existed at all. So he replied to her, "If you're here, then we will." He added, "As for titles... you should still have the title you had prior to the Empire's downfall. You are still Darth Renatus, Kaar of Mysteries. Although, I admit... our 'spheres' of influence aren't what they were. And as you put it... our responsibilities are somewhat different. We're not focuses on empire-building at the moment. We're focused first on survival, and then on the perpetuation of the Sith order - more specifically, our Sith order. There are other Sith out there in the galaxy - those who never met up with ours on Nogatan, those who used to follow the vitiate, and still believe in that ghost, and then there are others who would not bow a knee to our former emperor even if they knew he existed. They are small orders, I know, but they exist nonetheless. I guess my point is that you still have the titles you did, though you're right - our responsibilities have changed. Should you want more, it would be easy to call you Headmistress here. You could tackle the training of students, the administration of Overseers, or both... or neither. We are at a rare stage of our existence where we can write the rulebook. We can create some kind of structure. I, for one, would bring back the roles of Acolytes, Adepts, and Lords, and Masters. But I fear we don't have the numbers to fill those ranks yet. Who knows though? Every day, refugees from Kaas and Bastion still come in, and with them, wounded Sith. Meanwhile, new faces are finding their way here. Tomorrow, we might meet the next Darth, or the next potential one anyway. It is a time of grief, to be certain... but also, one of hope." He smiled a little again, and looked over the simple room. "My short-term goal is not to have us stay in rooms like this for long." But then his face took on a more serious appearance, although it grew more intense too, "My longer term goal is much larger though. How would you feel about helping me to give birth to a new Sith Order?" Verrin did have a plan - or more accurately, he was making one. Right now, he just had a goal. Historically, the Dark Jedi mated with the Sith species to create the powerful Sith order. Now... the time had apparently come again where such a thing could be possible. By merging with the natives of Dathomir, they could start to breed a new order of even more powerful Sith... ... or, it might all fail, and they simply create some band of witches. Time would tell.
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