A New Master

[Malcador]

Arriving on Korriban, Nohman walked the surface of the planet with a new outlook to it. Instead of dreading being "taught" by that fool Akir, he hoped his new master would teach him things Akir didn't. He walked inside the Academy, looking at the other students there. He looked at one using Force lightning with virtually no difficulty, which reminded Nohman that his hand still burned from earlier. He awaited in a private room for his master and began meditating, letting the energies of Korriban flow through him.

 

[Matty]

Morton waltzed through the hallowed halls of the Korriban academy. The ambient light gleaming off of his golden armor, casting him in an almost angelic glow. Morton gave small nods to those who passed him. The god incarnate was feeling in a very merciful mood. He wouldn't smite or strike those who did not bow or grovel. The past few days had been far to excellent to let something as trivial as a non-believer ruin his day. His mood was so upbeat that he even took on a second apprentice. He knew next to nothing about the man he was supposed to train. All he was told by the Darths was that the man was eager to learn. If he was eager to learn, then maybe he was eager to be converted. Morton wouldn't press the man, but if the young acolyte aw the true greatness that was the god incarnate, Morton would not object. His Stormborn would always hold priority in his heart, but this man would have his uses as well. He would groom the acolyte into an efficient ruthless killing machine. He would teach the man the fine art of using a sword while instructing him in the finer points of the force's usage.

By the end of his time with the acolyte, the man would be a force to be reckoned with. Thousands would cower when his name spoken. The acolyte would be his hand. He would become Morton's own personal tool of destruction. Morton gave a small chuckle as he continued down the dusty halls of the academy. The heel of his golden boots clicking and clacking as he went. He paused only briefly to greet a young slave girl who had the common sense to bow before her god. Morton motioned for her to rise, gave her a small kiss on the head and allowed the slave to escape with her life. Morton's ego only inflated more at the gesture. He rounded the corner, with a sadistic small upon his face. He ran his right hand through his golden hair, tucking it slightly behind his ears. He waved his left hand slightly and the door before him sprung open as if alive.

"Be honored" he spoke to the student in the center of the room "Your god has deemed you worthy"

 

[Malcador]

Nohman heard the mans voice behind him, feeling his presence before he walked into the room. He stood up and bowed in respect.
"Thank you, my lord." he said. He examined his new master, and he remembered reading about him in reports but nothing other than he was someone to be feared, and rightfully so. But something tugged at Nohmans mind; Did he address himself as "your god?" Nohman knew Sith ego fairly well, but this for some reason seemed a bit off. Nevertheless, anything was better than Akir.
"I am willing to learn."

 

[Matty]

"Good" Morton said, his tone devoid of any emotion despite his current mood "Many beg for the chance to learn at the feet of a god, few are chosen"

Morton gave the young acolyte a small nod before circling the room. His first lesson for the acolyte would be a simple one. The basic necessity for any Sith was to be able to harness their own emotions. From there, the acolyte could learn to use their opponent's emotions against them. They would be able to urn fear, sorrow and frustration into pure raw power. Morton had done it time and time again. When he dueled an opponent, he not only fought them, he toyed with them. He would dance around the room, feinting strikes all the while laughing maniacally. His unnatural laughter would then frustrate his opponent which would then give Morton all the power he needed. He would feed off of his opponent's emotions. Allowing them to bolster his own resolve. The ability to use a foe's emotions could turn the tide of the battle. A Sith needed to be ready for any and all eventualities.

"Recite the Sith Code for me child" Morton spoke absentmindedly

The Sith credo was testament to the Order's power. Every line, word and syllable had meaning. Some have speculated that the Code of the Sith was created in direct contrast with the Jedi Code, to illustrate the fundamental philosophical differences between the orders. This would certainly account for the first line of the Sith Code discrediting the Jedi's proclamation of peace. Morton knew that the Sith did not believe that victory by any means was desirable, but believed that unless victory was proved your superiority, it was only an illusion and temporary. Though there might be different types of victories—peaceful victory, victory by sacrifice, even a truce—his beliefs and that of the Sith taught that unless the victory was achieved by demonstrating that one's power was superior to another, it was not true victory. The stronger a Sith became in the Force, the more power he could achieve. The more power one achieved, the easier it was to dominate one's foe. Domination was the one true way to achieve one's purpose. This was something that the god incarnate had become expertly intimate with.

 

[Malcador]

Nohman, behind his mask grinned remembering reading the Sith Code for the first time. It was one of the only few things Akir did right. He closed his eyes and let mental images come in as he recited the code.
"There is no peace, therein lies only passion. Through my passion is born my strength." Suddenly, the image of him slaying Akir in anger flashed in his mind as if he were there again.
"Through strength, I unleash my power." Another image, this time of him trying to summon Force lightning, but it backfired.
"Through power, victory is mine. Through victory, my shackles are broken." Another image of him slaying Akir. But another one appeared when he spoke of his shackles being broken. This image was of him as an entirely different being, someone without restraints. The restraints Akir put on him. He was afraid. he thought. He knew Akir was afraid since the beginning and held him back on purpose. But he failed.
Realizing this, he felt empowered, feeling the energies of Korriban with even more intensity as if he were apart of the planet.
"The dark side shall set me free." he finally said. These words, though, provided another image. Something that might have been a vision. He saw himself not only lacking restraints, but saw his own freedom. It was something the Jedi hate and the true lords of the Sith smile upon. Nohman knew he could become this.
He felt another burining sensation on his hand, he looked at his metallic glove and saw lightning dancing around it. It did not burn as much however, but it quickly flickered off like a light switch.