A Master Exists?

[Ru the Boatswain]

A true master of this art existed. One who truly understood the system. He was here somewhere, there was no use in trying to find him either. He would show when he felt it necessary.

The thickly robed Mask glided into the lower dungeon. It's feet seemed not to move from beneath the robes, but the soft pat of footfalls echoed through the darkness.

"I have come, master." The white unmoving mask was grinning at something, beneath it the words came unhindered and too loud.

 

[Ser Yorick]

Inside one of the many rooms that existed within the lower dungeons waited Serpentis, Dark Master and Assassin of the Dark Jedi. He had trained only a handful of Acolytes and Crusaders who made it into the elusive ranks of the Assassins, out of dozens of candidates. The members of the Dark Jedi of the Bogan who became Assassins were rare, elite, and destined to do what they do. Not a power in the 'verse stop one once it was on your tail, naught but another.

Serpentis watched in the darkness as the Crusader known as Mask entered the room. "I have come, master," the Crusader said. Suddenly a pair of flood lights switched on and illuminated the whole room. The Dark Master stood in front of them, but only cast a single shallow sliver of a shadow, as the lights bounced off the walls of the smallish room and tried desperately to cover everything.

"And so you have," came the response. "Tell me, what makes you think you have what it takes?"

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

Masks shadow vanished in the crossing beams of light. It stood out amongst it's now bright background.

"I have been called death by powerful men and to them I am death. I wield the force as a master, few need see me wield my blade."

 

[Ser Yorick]

Serpentis listened and then chuckled at the Crusader's response. "How very droll," he said with a rasp. The Dark Master had been part of the Order since its inception, and during the decades of his service he had known and even trained quite a few characters, many of which had a taste for the theatrical. Mask, the Crusader who stood before him now asking to be taught the ways of the Assassin, also seemed to like theatrics, for he wore a white mask and flowing dark robes. Parlour tricks; the antics of a fun house magician.

"Take off your mask and your robes, Death." The last word the Dark Master said in a clear and evidently mocking manner. It was obvious Serpentis was not impressed.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

"I would remove this mask were it not my face, and this robe, if it were not my skin." It said, matching the Masters tone, "I would think you'd have known after all this time under the same roof." It was, of course, referring to their time spent not together, but in passing for more than a decade.

 

[Ser Yorick]

On several occasions the Dark Master had encountered arrogant and self-important Acolytes, but usually by the time they became Crusaders they figured out their place within the Order and adjusted their behaviour accordingly. Serpentis would not stand for insubordination, and he would not play games or exchange riddles.

"You will remove that mask," the Dark Master demanded. He stepped forward and put his right hand on his waist, next to the glinting silver of a lightsaber hilt. The shadow Serpentis had cast split into two as the flood lights tried again to spread out around him.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

"Master, this Mask is my face." It pulled some of the robe back to reveal dead looking skin, it had grown around what was once a Mask. It was obvious that the mask could not be removed from the Mask.

 

[Ser Yorick]

Now the Dark Master was angry. "I have no use for a talking mask!" he spat. It became evident that this Crusader was only here to waste his time, and he would have none of it. Had he known of the young man's deformities Serpentis would not have allowed him access to the dungeons, least of all agreed to train him further. The mask that the Crusader wore would not lend itself well to the arts of an Assassin, and as such, he would not be permitted within their ranks. Were this the Jedi Order, Serpentis would have felt inclined to forgive the Crusader for the transgression, but this was not the Jedi Order. He would not be forgiven; he would be punished.

The Dark Master's lightsaber snapped up into his hand. If the Crusader would not comply with his demands, then Serpentis would remove the mask himself. A long crimson blade hissed out from the hilt of his lightsaber, its tip almost touching the stone floor. The Dark Master then lunged forward like a bolt of arcing lightning and slashed left to right with his laser sword, aimed to cut off the Crusader's mask.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

With awkward grace, the Mask turned and stepped back to avoid the lightsabers burn. After the first strokes the Masked figure sprung back nearly ten meters placing itself out of reach.

Masks own lightsaber remained hidden, though, waiting for a moment when it would find it's use.

 

[Ser Yorick]

No peace, only suffering.

Serpentis let his anger rush over him in waves, feeling his power in the dark side of the Force grow stronger with each passing second. The Dark Master then violently threw back the hood of his robes, revealing his crudely shaven bald head. He reached out and drew upon the sorrow and anger and hate that hung in the air of the room around him.

These dungeons were not always training grounds, and in fact, no one but Serpentis himself had ever used them for that purpose. The reason the Dark Master chose the lower levels was due to the still echoing screams and death curdles of those who were tortured, killed, and slaughtered down there. And even though most of the blood stains had been washed away, the pain, hate, and agony of those who had met their end in the dungeons remained. Serpentis had found that the dark side—the Bogan—was even stronger when called upon in areas that were deep-seated in pain or suffering, if one only knew how to draw upon it.

And draw upon it he did. The Dark Master focused his energy outward and instead of physically acting as the lightning, he used the power of the dark side to send a jolt of real arcing lightning to fry the Crusader into compliance.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

The lightning struck directly, there was no avoiding it. Mask crumpled to the ground, it's scream carried through the corridors causing many to stop and listen. The pain was glorious, and Mask savored it. The absolute suffering it now felt was empowering, almost. Still, the pain kept it pinned and helpless, I am weak, he will strike me down now. He will near me and cut my mask, then, death.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

A wild bump strikes this thread.

 

[Ser Yorick]

I'm trying to decide what I should do! GOSH!

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

Did I throw a magical curve ball?

 

[Ser Yorick]

Did I throw a magical curve ball?

No, I'm just trying to decide if I really should kill you.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

Well, for all you know I have some magical trap... or something...

 

[Ser Yorick]

Serpentis continued with the torrent of dark side energy and kept the purple lightning searing through the Crusader. If he had not felt pain before, he felt it now. The Dark Master could feel its anguish, and he relished in it, using its agony to pour even more hatred into the the Force, and in turn blasting forth even more dark side energy. This thing, whatever it was, would fall today, here and now.

Slowly, the Dark Master edged toward the creature still writhing in pain. "Show me your face!" Serpentis called over the crackling of electricity. And then with one fluid stroke he let the lightning subside and slashed a cut across the Crusader's face meant to sear off his white mask.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

Then with a crack the mask broke in two allowing flesh to see the light. It moved as if possessed, it's body flinging upright and then slumping forward. In a shriek of pain one thin hand reached out and grasped inside of the crevice. Violently it ripped half of the mask from it's face and threw it aside. Inside the piece cast aside, skin and bits of flesh remained attached. Where the mask once was was a skinless mass of muscle. The other half remained attached.

"There is my face!" Mask shrieked, it appeared human in stricture, but it was clearly deformed.

The figure lay smoldering at it's masters feet, the dark robes blackened from the charge it had withstood.

 

[Ser Yorick]

The Dark Master watched with contempt as the Crusader ripped off his mask. The creature beneath used to be human, but now it was utterly revolting and deformed.
"And so it is," said Serpentis, indifference in his voice.
And with a sudden flick of his wrist, he aimed to decapitate the poor sod. The Assassins, and the order itself, had no use for abominations such as this. The creature was weak, deformed, and mocked the Dark Master by even requesting to be trained by one such as him. And so it was to be put down.

 

[Ru the Boatswain]

OOC: I hope this isn't god modding, we are dark jedi, I would assume pain could fuel ones self with the dark side affiliated.

HA! It thought. The pain it had endured was enough to put the man off guard. Witht he aid of the force the hidden lightsaber sprang to life and emerging from beneath it's robes would intercept the decapitating blow and stop it cold. Then the thing sprang up from it's place, but not before a not so subtle kick to the ankle of it's master.