[Closed] The Dark Forge of Xezgul Azool

[Vonlin]

As he waited for the lucky Acolyte that would have the privilege of assisting him in his endeavors tonight the Sith Sorcerer's thoughts wandered. Xezgul Azool stood in the center of his private Sith alchemy laboratory on Korriban, although the word laboratory was rather misleading. The facility was actually more a forge or smith.

The majority of Azool's work up to this point had been with metallurgy and as a result he was one of the most skilled Sith metallurgy alchemist in the order. Azool was ambitious though and wished to expand into other forms of Sith alchemy, but for now tended to the craft he was experienced in. The walls and ceiling of the room were filled with tools, vials and pipes of tubing that weaved and twisted confusingly in every direction.

In a display case on the wall was his own set of dark armor and Sith sword. Right now he was staring at specifically the Sith sword in its case, looking over the details on it. Tonight he would begin crafting another Sith sword, a sword that would perhaps be more powerful than his own. The weapon would be made to be worthy of its intended user.

He twirled around from the case and looked over the rest of the dark smithy to make sure everything was in order. A large forge sat in the center of the room, its fire already stoked and casting a orange glow across the dimly lite room. The heat thrown off from the forge made the entire room uncomfortably hot but he didn't even notice that fact.

Along the walls there were various vats of bubbling liquid each heated to different but precise temperatures. Inside the vats were, in their liquid states, the different alloys and materials that would be mixed and combined together to form the metal that would be the Sith sword. No cortosis would actually be used in the forging of this magnificent weapon, no cortosis was needed. No the great triumph that was Sith alchemy did not required any cortosis in the forging of Sith swords. Although working with cortosis was often a big part of his metallurgy work.

There was a table which on top rested several dark artifacts, talisman and nexuses...some of them crafted by Azool himself and some of them found during excavations of tombs on Korriban. They would be used to help channel and direct the dark energies that were to be poured into the blade.

His eyes fell next onto his Sith anvil and the hammer that rested on top of it. Both items were additional Sith artifacts that Azool had at one time had to construct with Sith alchemy. He had built both of them from schematics found inside holocroms, holocroms that he kept secret from the order and hidden here in his laboratory.

The Falleen couldn't help but smile devilishly at his forge that flowed with Sith magic, it was his pride and joy. It was here that he crafted the most sinister weapons and devices that gave the Sith their edge over the Jedi in war.

 

[Sreeya]

As Andraste stepped into the lab, she was hit with a vast conglomeration of odors that all assailed her nostrils at once. Her face contorted to reflect the disgust as a result, though she knew better than to remark on it. She looked rather out of place, her frame small and thin. Her skin was ghostly pale, as if she were devoid of blood. However, the testament to the sanguine essence residing within her were the countless self inflicted wounds on her wrists. She had made no moves to hide them. Only one individual had told her to stop, and he had a special place in her heart.

She spotted the Falleen Sith immediately. Right off the bat, he looked a bit creepy, which she always liked. She had often thought of the kind of vibes she had given off. She was aware of her abnormal nature, which outwardly projected a rather odd persona, one that deviated substantially from proper conduct. She only hoped this man would be able to see past that and not chastise her for her uncharacteristic behavior.

As she approached him, she respectfully nodded, taking a seat across from him. She knew one other acolyte that had dabbled in alchemy, and her work had triggered an interest in the subject. Andraste herself knew that she possessed seemingly endless reservoirs of Force energy and had the means to use it like an artist used paint. The thought of crafting of any nature had always perked her interests. As always, she had a few glass flowers on her person. They had been made from heating the desert sands outside of the temple.

She followed his gaze to the Sith sword that lay in its case. She could feel the Dark energy emanating from it. She had intended not to say anything, but her fascination overwhelmed her. She grinned at the sight, tilting her head as she did whenever she found something of interest.

"Does a part of the alchemist forever reside within his creations?"

 

[Vonlin]

His green eyes flickered from the sword to her though he said nothing at first, he merely thought about the words she had spoken as he studied her. Normally Azool's first instinct would be to punish and scold any Acolyte that spoke to him without first being spoken to. But her question was something of interest to him. Her words were directed at his passion and like anyone in the universe Azool enjoyed to talk about himself and the work he was passionate about.

The question surprised him to a degree, he had not expected her to ask about such an advanced idea so early on. It was this intelligence behind the question that saved her from being punished because instead his first instinct was merely to consider his response. "Not always," he turned away from the display case and fully towards her, "It depends on how much work the alchemist puts into the creation. More specifically how much of the dark side they channel into the creation through themselves. If enough dark energy travels through them and into the item in question it is very possible that the energy saps some of their life force and then carries that life force into the next thing it encounters. This can happen intentionally and unintentionally on the alchemist's part." He glanced back to the sword, "With that weapon it was intentional on my part that this would happen. If you or anyone else besides me were to touch the hilt of that sword it would burn your skin badly, rejecting you because it won't recognize your life force."

When his eyes returned to her once more he took the time to really study her, looking at her small fragile frame. She was thin, pale and cut up...she looked weak. Azool knew though that looks and size meant little to nothing especially in matters of the force. So he would hold off any judgements of her until he had more to judge her on. Though if she disappointed his expectations too much he may kill her just for wasting his time. After all she was the first person ever allowed admittance to his private workshop here. The work he did and the techniques he applied were all closely guarded secrets. If she began to learn some of these secrets but was later revealed to be unworthy and a potential lose end he could not afford to let her live. If that turned out to be the case she would never be allowed to leave here, instead she would be turned into one of his experiments.

"Welcome to my laboratory Acolyte Andraste, as you know I am Marauder Azool. I will warn you only once, as your superior of the Sith Order you will refer to me as 'my lord'." He did not stop to ask if she understood but continued on, "Do you have any guess what we will be doing tonight? Or what the consequences will be for both of us if we fail in our task?"

 

[Sreeya]

She carefully listened to his words, drinking in each one. As she listened, she found herself growing progressively more interested in the concept of alchemy. She also found the Falleen to be interesting. He appeared to be closely guarded, letting slip only what he wished for her to know. Her eyes widened when he mentioned that no one else could touch the sword. She paused after he spoke and looked up at him, hoping he would not chastise her for just one more question.

"Can...one corrupt the energy used to mold the weapons?"

It was a devious question, and it was a gamble. Either he could catch the twisted intelligence behind it or he would see it as crossing a line and punish her. She did not know what to expect, but she allowed him to ask his own questions. He also introduced himself and demanded to be addressed as lord. She nodded in response, her face devoid of expression.

"Understood. Though it is a shame to not be able to utter your name, my lord, for it is beautiful."

Andraste was a victim to all things beautiful, and her countless supply of flowers could attest to that. For now, she kept her composure instead of drifting into the dreamy state she often frequented.

"We are here to forge a Sith sword, from what I understand. If we fail our task.."

She ventured as far as to offer him a grin.

"If I fail, you will not hesitate to kill me. It will be simple, fleeting, quick and final. Another candle to extinguish and clear up a path of trifling young acolytes eager to prove themselves. It's beautiful, the simplicity of it. If only the entire galaxy operated on such terms.."

She glanced up at him, a lone finger tracing circles over the table.

"As for you, my lord, I believe you'd be in quite the deep shit yourself. Just as I have to answer to you, you have higher ups within the Order that will not hesitate to reprimand you for your failures. My suggestion is for us to both work together and combine our efforts to mold alchemy to near perfection. That ought to save both of our hides and it's something I can agree to. You did not want an idiot in here, and I am here to uphold those terms."

 

[Vonlin]

"Can...one corrupt the energy used to mold the weapons?"

He folded his arms in front of him thoughtfully, letting silence hang between them for a moment before speaking. He would not lie to himself, the question threw him, "How does one corrupt what has already been corrupted? To mold metal with Sith alchemy you must first corrupt and tame the energies to be used, that is the foundation of Sith Magic. Although I suppose it is all a matter of how one defines corruption, isn't it? In that case the answer is both yes and no. For us a corruption of the dark energies would be the presence of the light side."

"Understood. Though it is a shame to not be able to utter your name, my lord, for it is beautiful."

He raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name, it was not a gesture the Sith Sorcerer often made, in fact he could not remember the last time he had raised an eyebrow. Anger began to fill him and it seeped into his voice, "Beauty has no purpose, the only beauty I find in this galaxy is in the power of the force and therefore by extension the craftsmanship of the dark arts," referring to Sith alchemy.

"Beauty is for the most part a distraction. Except for instances in where it might be a tool of leverage," as a Falleen Azool's race was found to be one of the most attractive and beautiful in the galaxy because of their sleek symmetrical features. It was all rather ironic really and that wasn't even mentioning the pheromones he was capable of excluding in times he desired 'leverage'. He was not beyond using his racial abilities combined with illusions of the force to seduce those in his path when it was convenient and it was potent against either gender. He never actually took any pleasure in using his beauty beyond the victory it brought him though. Azool just saw it as another tool in his arsenal and for the most part had ignored his appearance for the last 180 years even if it was considered extraordinary by some.

"If I fail, you will not hesitate to kill me. It will be simple, fleeting, quick and final. Another candle to extinguish and clear up a path of trifling young acolytes eager to prove themselves. It's beautiful, the simplicity of it. If only the entire galaxy operated on such terms.."

"Fancy yourself rather the poet eh? Poetry is also a waste of time, beyond the poetry that is the Sith code," he chided coldly, apparently uninterested in elaborating.

"As for our task, the sword we begin to forge tonight is not just for anybody. It is for one of the Sith Lords themselves, Darth Mortis," someone Azool sought to gain favor with out of the hope of an apprenticeship. "I am afraid to say that if we fail to meet his expectations I will probably not have the time to kill you myself, he will have both of our hides. Let you keep that thought in the forefront of your mind while we work."

There was another long pause and then the words, "Near perfection? No that will not do, perfection is the only thing I strive for. And the only thing Darth Mortis will accept."

Azool's topknot of black hair was resting in front of his shoulder to the right of his head, he pushed it behind his shoulders so that is hung directly behind his head, "So let us begin to work towards that perfection without further delay."

He turned towards the rear area of the room where a table stood with a special wet clay, he had already mixed the required properties into the clay to make it capable of what was required. "We need a mold for the sword...since you seem so appreciative of beauty and because aesthetics is not that important in the process I will let you design it how you see fit." He would of course adjust or completely recreate the mold if hers failed to meet his expectations and there would be pain to accompany. "Just simply physically shaping the clay will not do. While you shape it physically you also need to be shaping it mentally. You need to use the force to pour the proper emotions into the clay, your passions, your anger and your hatred. For these emotions, once apart of the mold, will later imprint themselves from the mold onto the sword as we forge it. When it comes to my standard of craftsmanship the dark side must be used every step of the way for the highest quality finished product to be realized."

After responding to any questions she was about to give he would then go silent and let her work on the clay in silence. He was talking more than he preferred, it was just like any other training work he did with acolytes. Azool preferred to be alone digging around in an old Sith tomb where only ancient Sith spirits would accompany him or even working here alone. But the monumental size of this task required two minds instead of one and he would have to suffer through company. Plus he was on the search for a qualified apprentice.

 

[Sreeya]

"By corrupting..I mean tainting it to betray the one the blade was forged for."

She curiously blinked at him as if the twisted notion was a simple one. She could tell he was growing agitated, and that was not her intention. She held back from further questions, though she had no pressing ones. Andraste carefully listened to his instructions, failing to bite back a smile when he touched on the topic of her attention to beauty. She could tell he both agreed and disagreed with the concept. As a craftsman of any type, he had to have an eye for beauty, whether he outwardly appreciated it or not. She let the thought linger, not voicing it out loud.

Andraste got to work immediately, dipping her hands into the clay and letting his instructions resound within her mind. She began to mold it as he had asked, but found herself focusing too much on the details and intricacies instead of effectiveness. She also found her thoughts to be too honed in on the task at hand which detached her from applying the Force as he had asked. After a while, she withdrew from the mold, withdrawing from her seat.

"Pardon me a moment."

She exhaled, walking around in circles, eyeing the mold. She finally sat down again. She spoke again, closing her eyes and spoke to herself.

"I do not pour my emotions into anything. I grab the Force by the neck and force it to do my bidding. It does as it is commanded."

She did not open her eyes, her hands working of their own accord. She was completely attuned to the Force, not looking down at the result of her work. Her hands were those of an artist, working with precision she could not have obtained while looking down. It was purely the Force acting through her as its vessel, a display of her odd connection to it that set her leagues ahead of others her age. She did this for a long while, in utter and complete silence. She withdrew only when she was finished, finally opening her eyes to marvel at her work. It was not what she had expected, but it was an unmistakable form of a powerful blade. As she drew her hand away, she felt tendrils of almost tangible dark energy cling from her fingers, seeping back into the mold. She finally gazed up at Azool, her face once again impassive.

"Is this acceptable?"

 

[Vonlin]

"By corrupting..I mean tainting it to betray the one the blade was forged for."

He sneered, pleased with the Acolyte's train of thought, "Ah that is what you meant," he merely nodded and offered her no further answer although her words weighed heavily on his mind.

As she first began to fumble with the clay Azool took up a position directly behind her. Even though he was letting her directly work with the clay, he was not about to leave even this fairly easy task entirely in the hands of an Acolyte. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the clay pouring his own malice into it. Using telekinesis he also gently nudged and smoothed over small areas of the mold. She may not notice his telekinesis interference because it was so slight but it would be hard to miss the feelings radiating off him into the clay.

After she walked around and then seemed to focus more Azool found he had to interact less and pulled back out of the work more, letting her handle it. When she showed him the finished mold, he only nodded and took it from her.

He brought the clay mold over to the table with various Sith artifacts and approached one of them. The top of the artifact was simply a flat sheet of black colored rock, under that sheet of rock was two holes. Azool set the wet clay on the flat rock then placed his hands in each of the holes. Inside were grips that connected him to the relic. "Primitive cultures that still work with clay need to fire it in furnaces for hours to harden it. Such methods here would be wholly ineffective and pointless."

Without further warning he discharged Sith lighting through the grips and into the artifact. Azool gritted his teeth, he had to focus on what he was doing for it was no random discharge of lighting but a tedious effort that only came with practice. This part was actually dangerous because inept practitioners faced the risk of the dark side whip lashing and turning the lighting back on them. Many novice alchemist had died trying to master this particular talent. Azool knew all about this, he had read many of their notes or at least what was left of them up until this point. But it was all a necessary step for if the mold was not fired with Sith lighting the sword itself would be unable to absorb, channel, magnify and discharge Sith lighting later. This was a trait highly prized in Sith swords and the reason many Sith Lords choose them over lightsabers.

After several long moments of continuing the discharge of lighting Azool finally stopped, releasing himself from the device and stepping back. He was drained from the exercise but took all precaution to completely hide this fact from the Acolyte, he would never show weakness and eventually this act would not drain him so. The fact that the act did not knock him out or kill him was a feat of strength in itself.

The end result was a hardened mold that could contain molten liquid, "Now the challenging processes begin."

As Azool moved to another area of the forge he asked, "So tell me Acolyte, what other training have you done so far?" He was not suddenly merely looking for conversation but instead was interested to know what other marauders and lords might be influencing her.

 

[Sreeya]

She smiled when he accepted the mold she had created. She could tell he approved of her work, though he showed no outward signs of it. He was always difficult to read, a trait that would get him far. She remained silent as she watched him siphon lightning into the mold. It was beautiful work, and the precision and control he displayed was fascinating. She watched closely, her eyes wide with wonder. Watching every maneuver and feeling how he pinched the Force and manipulated it made her note the habit down for later, though she knew better than to attempt it any time soon. As he pulled away, the only hints of fatigue were displayed in his eyes. Outside of that, she was entirely unaware that he had completed a feat that could have claimed his life.

When he spoke, it was as if she were pulled out of a trance. She considered his words carefully, remaining seated even though he moved away. She watched his every move, but her thoughts were far away. It was a somewhat difficult question to answer, as she had a habit of learning specific things from specific Sith Lords. She decided to answer him the best she could.

"I am currently receiving saber training from Lord Vereor. Other Lords and Marauders have agreed to teach me their specific areas of expertise."

She remained silent. She refrained from mentioning her lord, her first and true lord, with whom she held a mild obsession. She did not know why he was a secret, but she kept him hidden from everyone, even Casimir. She watched Azool curiously, always watching his work.

"That control... the channeling and manipulation... how did you do that?"

She hoped he wouldn't be offended by more questions from her.

"For me, the Force is a vast ocean. I often swim in it, but you channeled it into a thin stream. Transferring my essence into the clay was simple because it was merely an extension of myself. However, you focused lightning, a powerful manifestation of the Force and poured it into the mold as if through a funnel. How does one learn that? Logically..it should have devastating effects.."

She was studying his visage now, her eyes always sharp and calculating.

 

[Vonlin]

Azool set the mold down so as to free both of his hands and lifted them into the air in an open gesture. He narrowed his eyes with concentration and focused with the force on the eight vats along the wall that held different boiling liquids. Each vat was heated to a different temperature. Mechanical devices handled the task of ensuring each temperature was precisely where it needed to be. In this next step though mechanical devices would not be able to deliver the amount of precision required.

"I am currently receiving saber training from Lord Vereor. Other Lords and Marauders have agreed to teach me their specific areas of expertise."

His concentration on the force was released for a moment as he responded, "Very good, you train with a Darth as a mere Acolyte. An odd situation, even as a Marauder of the Order I have yet to gain access to any Darths for training. How did you pull something off like that?" His eye's squinted further giving off the faintest notion of jealously, an error he quickly corrected.

Although her words and actions spoke of her cunning, it was wise to train under as many marauders and lords as possible. It would result in the revealing of the most secrets and gain her the most knowledge. Azool craved knowledge, he hungered for dark secrets long forgotten or closely guarded by others.

Such actions weren't without their risk though, the game she played was also a dangerous one. What with potentially pitting superiors against one another and creating conflicting loyalties. Even in his situation it caused him to raise a brow internally. The abilities and information he had came to accumulate over the long decades and was still accumulating today set him apart from other Sith alchemists. To risk losing these secrets and chancing a proliferation of his talent would diminish his own power and influence. It was simple supply and demand. He strove to be irreplaceable.

He visibly grinned for a moment as he had a thought, but he did not explain the expression. Of course he stood to gain from this situation, Azool had a chance through her and by manipulating her to learn the tricks and trades of those she studied under, especially the Darths. He would indeed play along to see how his position could be advanced. He would also need to learn more about her for now he was basing all of this off of assumptions and wide guesses based of the little she had told him.

Finally his thoughts returned to the task at hand. He concentrated with the force once more on the eight vats and the mold, lifting them all up into the air with telekinesis and bringing them to him. The 9 items circled his body slowly, forming a wall of sorts around him.

"That control... the channeling and manipulation... how did you do that?

It was unlikely he would become offended by her questions because they pertained directly to the task at hand. After all she was here today to learn and him to teach, although he believed teachers could sometimes learn from their students. It was the one reason he endured the responsibilities of interacting with Acolytes at all. Although one of superior rank usually stood to learn little from those beneath them but the occasion moments of inspiration sometimes cropped up. Like with her mentioning the corruption of the energies poured into items.

"For me, the Force is a vast ocean. I often swim in it, but you channeled it into a thin stream. Transferring my essence into the clay was simple because it was merely an extension of myself. However, you focused lightning, a powerful manifestation of the Force and poured it into the mold as if through a funnel. How does one learn that? Logically..it should have devastating effects.."

He began walking towards a doorway on one of the walls, it lead to a meditation chamber. As he walked the nine different pieces levitating around him continued to spin a slow circle although the circle now moved with him towards the room.

"Logically it should indeed be impossible, but this is the force we are discussing here and nothing is impossible. The simple answer to how I did that is with years of practice and devoted research. The complicated answer is," a pause filled with an amusing smile, "complicated.

It is hard to describe with words how to do it. Practice is the best way but it is a deadly art to practice. The use of the Sith artifact was also of vital importance, you used the word funnel, the ancient talisman acted like a funnel in a sense. Finally, complete mastery over the manipulation of the force is key. The force is your slave and answers to you, if you are strong enough, you are capable of doing anything."

The fact that he kept talking to her as he passed into the meditation chamber indicated she was to follow him inside.

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste thought over his question, truly confused. She had never paused to consider that having Darths train her was likely not a common occurrence. She pondered on the question, attempting to formulate an answer when she did not understand it herself.

"They.. sense something in me. Something about my future. Something about untapped potential and strength that cannot be measured.."

She was confusing herself. She simply shrugged, offering Azool a polite smile.

"I apologize.. I do not know why I have caught their attention."

She listened intently as he spoke about how to manipulate and control the Force. His mention of the talisman piqued her curiosity.

"Can the Force be manipulated like that without the aid of a talisman? What properties does it have to help in this endeavor?"

She rose from her seat and followed him inside. The more she learned on this topic, the more fascinated she became. On top of that, she could tell that Azool was finally relaxing around her and she had passed the initial tests of whether or not she could be deemed a worthy acolyte.

 

[Vonlin]

"They.. sense something in me. Something about my future. Something about untapped potential and strength that cannot be measured.."

"I apologize.. I do not know why I have caught their attention."

He had reached the center of the meditation chamber but stopped what he was doing because what she said caught his attention. Azool found her statement particularly interesting. So the Lords had sensed something strong within her, yes he would have to keep this Acolyte close to him indeed. Whatever her potential path may be he sensed it could be twisted to be useful to him.

Always interested in finding a worthy Acolyte that could be embraced as his full apprentice he had to ask, "And have any teachers made you their full apprentice yet?"

The whole time they were talking Azool continued to levitate the eight vats and the mold around him.

"Can the Force be manipulated like that without the aid of a talisman? What properties does it have to help in this endeavor?"

"The talisman is key, but not completely necessary I suppose. It is the traditional technique in that instance of Sith Alchemy and the only way it would be possible for most people to do it. Though I did just get done telling you that with enough capability anything is possible with the force. I imagine a Dark Lord of the Sith could perform such a feat without the aid of a dark artifact...almost everyone below that level of power would not be strong enough. There are many rules and procedures written on the dark arts, but none of them are in stone, never forget that Andraste. We Sith write our own rules."

He had indeed become relaxed with her and at that thought Azool froze as he also realized he had referred to her without the prefix 'acolyte' and used her actual name at the same time. He had never before spoken to an Acolyte so informally, most of the time he simply called them worms. He was rather taken back by all of this and became angry that she had relaxed him and drawn him in so. He set the items he had been suspending in the air onto the ground.

Even though he knew he was at fault for his mistake he directed his rage at her. Without warning darkness shot across his face. He attempted to bend the force around her and lift her up with a force grip, if he was successful with it he would then throw her into the wall that was behind her. "Worm you have failed to refer to me as 'my lord' when you speak to me, what makes you think I will tolerate that?" trying to rationalize his anger.

 

[Sreeya]

"No, I do not believe so.."

She looked at him with confusion.

"Full apprenticeship? Is that more effective than learning from several teachers?"

She was curious about why he had asked the question, but refrained from voicing her thoughts. She listened as he spoke. He hadn't answered how these artifacts were made and what set them apart from other items molded by Sith Alchemy. She did not pursue the question. She stood a short distance away from him, watching the items suspended in mid air. Once he uttered just her name, she abruptly looked up at him, her eyes wide. However, she could tell there was an abrupt change in his demeanor. She only had a moment to take a step back before she felt the Force begin to painfully grip her. She closed her eyes, suddenly reminded of her lord. The sensation brought a chill down her spine, but it was not one of pain. It was of excitement, the very essence of everything her lord stood for and what drove her mad for him. She shuddered from the effects, feeling herself get flung across the room.

However, that was where the Force abruptly detached from her. She hadn't realized what had happened as she skidded to a halt, blinking curiously. She was still on her feet, the choke brushed aside by something she hadn't directly controlled. She only remembered being lost in thoughts of her lord and the next thing she knew, she was on her feet. She simply shook her head and looked up at Azool, bowing her head.

"Forgive me, my lord, I had lost track of what I was saying."

She had held back from pointing out that he had dropped the 'acolyte' prefix from her name. She had the feeling that he was punishing her for something he had done himself. Regardless, she decided to bite back from any further questions, patiently waiting for him to demonstrate the next step in the process. Inwardly, she was still jarred from the incident with the choke.

 

[Vonlin]

((Im tired so this will probably be more long winded than normal))

"Full apprenticeship? Is that more effective than learning from several teachers?"

"Not necessarily, but its very common. Usually lords will take on a single apprentice that they teach absolutely everything they know to over time. In return the apprentice will serve them and do their bidding. The lord is motivated out of a desire to make the apprentice as powerful as possible so that they make a more effective servant. The apprentice is of course motivated out of a desire to learn. Eventually the apprentice may become more powerful than the lord, they usually then attempt to kill the lord and replace them, taking on their own apprentice. That is the cycle of us Sith. The most cunning lords know to kill their apprentices off just before they become too powerful. Or to start grooming a second apprentice on the side in secret who they can pit against the first when the time is right."

After his out-lash had hit he listened to her response;

"Forgive me, my lord, I had lost track of what I was saying."

He nodded, content to move on now apparently, "You will be wise to not lose track again."

Now that he felt in control again, in control of himself and in control of the situation he would be eager to continue with the alchemy work. The whole thing had been a mini power struggle initiated by the fact that Azool had sensed a threat to his total control over the situation. When it came to control even a detail as small as being put at ease by another was a grave misstep in Azool's mind. If you didn't stop the smallest loss of control over a situation and chastise properly those involved it could become a slippery slope quickly. In short, Azool had not liked that she had put him at ease and relaxed him without him deciding for himself that he wanted to relax.

"It is time to mix the various alloys that will come together to result in the metal that is the blade. The metal we are forging has properties literally no other metal in the galaxy has. For starters the sword will be able to take hits from lightsabers like cortosis, but this metal will stay sharp hit after hit. The metal, combined with some force tricks by the user will also be able to reflect blaster shorts or any other laser. It will also be far sharper than any normal metal could ever be and maintain its sharpness particularly well. This allows the sword to cut through things normal swords could not. There are other enchantments that can be given to the blade, but what I have described is the basic capabilities of the sword’s metal.

To reach this state the amounts of alloys used and the method of mixing them has to be exactly right. The slightest error now could result in a weak point in the blade later. Such a weak point cannot be suffered for it could result in the user’s death in a moment when they depended on the sword."

He summoned jars from the other room with the force and poured all of the vats into separate jars, he left himself one extra empty jar. “You will only be able to partially assist me in this step for I have memorized the combinations and order mentally.”

He needed the up most focus for this part hence why they were in the meditation room. Azool sat down cross legged in the center of the room. He first used telekinesis to levitate the mold directly above his head. He then, with the force picked up a single jar and brought it to float above the mold. He tipped the jar on its side so the liquid inside began to pour out into the mold slowly. As the jar slowly was poured into the mold he used telekinesis to move the jar back and forth from the top of the mold to the bottom so the liquid spread out about it evenly. All of this happened in the span of only two seconds before Azool levitated a second jar and began to pour it into the mold at the same time in the same fashion. Soon he added a third to the mix, all three jars dancing above his head and pouring into the mold. If he made the slightest mistake even the smallest drop of molten liquid would burn him severely.

When he added the fourth jar to the dance above his head this is when he finally spoke to her, “I will begin switching in and out jars as I work towards pouring in all eight liquids at once.” His eyes were closed and he had an air of extreme concentration, focused on what he was doing while he talked. He would seem distant and far off to her. In reality it was true to a degree, Azool was giving only the smallest fraction of his mind to the words he was speaking. His ears didn’t even hear the words, but his ears would be listening for any questions she might have. This was another vital step and it was important she didn’t mess it up for him, so he would make sure she knew what she was doing.

His instructions finally came, “I will hand jars off to you with the force and request others from you,” she would need to use telekinesis. “All of this will have to be done extremely quickly so you must be fast because if the alloys are not mixed together in the proper formula they will not react to each other in the way desired. You will help me juggle between the jars and keep them near until I am using all nine of them at once, at that point the mold will be nearing full.”

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste simply nodded, decided that remaining silent was most likely favorable. Azool appeared to be deep in thought. Her attention was drawn to the orbiting jars above his head, and it was thrilling in the sense that she would get to apply the Force. She was about to ask questions, but bit back. She showed that she understood his instructions.

Within moments, she closed her eyes and prepared for the task. She was used to applying the Force quite a bit, but to gain control of it she had to be completely immersed in it. When she opened her eyes again, she was fully attuned to the Force. The slightest nudge of the Force told her which jars to alternate. She found it to be slightly challenging, and had picked up the wrong jar once or twice, but she did not fail to bring the right one in the end.

After a few choppy passes, the motions were much more fluid and practiced. Andraste had her eyes closed, seeing through the Force. She understood which jars contained what and the order they poured into the mold. It was almost like a game, and it was a true test of Force manipulation. The more she did it, the more seamless her control was.

 

[Vonlin]

In a combined telekinetic effort the two of them were able to pull off the task. Near the end of it all it would have been spectacular to watch above Azool's head. The eight jars had been dancing independently as they poured their contents out and moved at different speeds from the top to the bottom of the mold in a flurry. Eventually Azool nodded with the task finished and brought all of the now empty jars down to the ground. The only thing he levitated in the air now was the mold which was now full of the the super heated molten substance that would cool and transmute into the blade.

Azool began to leave the meditation chamber and walk back towards the main room of his forge, the mold following behind him. As he did so he asked her curiously, "Why so quiet now? You were full of questions before acolyte. Lost your interest in alchemy? You best not be wasting my time now," he warned.

With the force he moved the mold to a table and set it down on top of it. "We must now cool the molten blade with a Sith ritual. The ritual will also both enchant the sword with the dark side and further alter its molecular properties. After the blade has been cooled, enchanted and altered we will heat it again, this time in the forge. The heated metal will be brought to a malleable state" He looked at his anvil and hammer and motioned to them, "I will then be able to further shape it with those tools there. There will be several cycles of cooling, heating and shaping until it is finalized."

He turned away from her to face an empty corner of the room, just now she would probably realize that this corner of the room did not have a stone floor like the rest, but was bare ground or a dirt floor if you will.

Azool pointed a finger at the dirt and made a circular motion with his hand. As his finger moved a circle was drawn in the ground reflectively through the force. With all five fingers of that hand now outstretched he began to make all sorts of fluid motions. The movements were very quick, curt and hard to follow. Inside the dirt circle a dozen Sith runes and symbols were slowing materializing. As he created the proper seals and runes he commanded her, "During the ritual you will help me, your presence and participation will make it more powerful."

 

[Sreeya]

Her eyes widened at his question. She almost considered not answering, but he had addressed her directly. As a result, she initially remained silent. She finally spoke, looking down.

"Apologies, my lord, I believed I was pestering you with questions and decided to remain silent."

She followed him out of the room and listened as he explained the cooling and heating process. This part was slightly difficult to grasp, as it did not rely solely on the Force. She looked over at the hammer and anvil, secretly wondering if she had the physical strength to shape a sword. Her attention, however, was quickly drawn to the dirt on the ground, upon which symbols were taking shape. She glanced over at his hand, which were making quick motions which imprinted the marks on the ground. Her eyes widened slightly and she muttered quietly to herself, a realization dawning on her.

"Only you are the true master of your creations.."

She quickly glanced up in fear.

"..My lord.."

She had almost forgotten to add the prefix again. Her gaze returned to the runes, hoping he wouldn't dwell on her comment.

"What do those runes mean, if I may ask, my lord?"

 

[Vonlin]

"Apologies, my lord, I believed I was pestering you with questions and decided to remain silent."

Azool chided, "The asking of questions is a sign of pursuing knowledge. A wise Sith does not discourage the pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge is power."

He finished creating the dozen or so Sith runes and symbols in the enchantment circle. The end result was a very confusing and busy pattern on the ground. The fact that Azool knew the countless complicated details by heart was a testament to his own level of knowledge. What they were about to do with the ritualistic circle was a testament to how knowledge translated to power.

"Only you are the true master of your creations.."

He froze and a shiver ran down his spine as he heard those words from her lips. She was exactly right...but she should have had no way of knowing such an intimate fact. He spoke slowly, as if thinking through each word, "A detail I like to keep secret..."

With that he would say nothing more on the subject, as if ignoring it would make it melt away as if it had never happened. He took a moment to recompose himself then tried to move forward by answering her question about the runes.

"They mean a great many things, each of them has a different purpose and each individually does a different thing. But combined together in this exact pattern or structure, with their layouts relative to one another how they are now...well together as one it will serve as a temporary nexus of the dark side, amplifying and also containing the ritual we are about to preform."

With that he held out his right arm completely straight in front of him, his claw like fingers fully extended with his palm facing down at the circle. The exact moment his hand had extended over the circle in the dirt, the patterns he had drawn on the ground began to faintly glow beneath him. He used the force to bring the mold over from the table through the air and suspended it over the circle. The runes drawn in the dirt began to glow brighter as the dark side was summoned and easily felt closing in around them almost suffocating them with its growing weight. It could have just been a mind trick, but it seemed the light in the room was actually fading and the room becoming physically darker.

He spoke quietly as the symbols grew even brighter and the room darker, "Be careful now, I mentioned that when the dark side channels through the alchemist and into the item it is possible for the force to sap some of their life force and carry it into the item. Now is when that can happen. You must let the dark side in but yet remain in control at all times." If she could remember she would recall him telling her that sometimes alchemist would purposely let some of themselves be put in the item. If today he was going to do that he would not tell her.

The runes glowed so brightly now it was nearly blinding, they had become a red hot color. Some how every other light source in the room had completely gone out, leaving them in total blackness. The walls around them literally began to tremble creating a loud noise. Azool's eyes had closed and with his face locked in concentration he yelled over the sound, "Move to the opposite side of the circle from me now and extend your hand so! Quickly! You cannot stall!"

"I will begin chanting the various incantations, you must repeat them exactly the same after me as you also channel the dark side through you and into the blade, the runic pattern will act as a guide or railing, feel for it as you channel!" thrusting her into this difficult situation was a test to reconfirm a new suspicion, it was likely she would die trying with so little explanation and no practice. If she was not strong enough the dark side would claim her as its sacrifice, feeding off her very essence as it was called to this chamber. Her recent comment told him that perhaps there was more than meets the eye with this acolyte.

The Sith Sorcerer began murmuring and chanting a spell in the tongue of the ancient Sith race, he sounded like some kind of insane monk or wizard.

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste almost expected him to lash out again when he mentioned it was something he liked to keep secret. As she spent more time in the forge, she wondered if he planned to kill her or if he liked having her as an apprentice. He was incredibly difficult to read, and she knew prying was a bad idea. She nodded when he explained the next step in the procedure. From the sounds of it, he was asking much more from her than she believed herself capable of. Fear crept up her spine, though she did not outwardly display anything.

"Yes, my lord.."

She looked around at the dimming lights, feeling the darkness closing in on them. It was almost tangible, as if a dark blanket had been thrown over them. She almost found it difficult to breathe, though it was exhilarating at the same time. Andraste felt the trembling beneath her feet and from the walls, the air suddenly chilled around them. Her eyes were wide with shock as he told her to go to the opposite side of the circle and channel the dark side energy. Such vague instructions!

"How am I suppose-"

No time! She rushed across from him. He had already begun chanting. She held her hand out and listened closely. She repeated the incantations, and as she did so, she felt the darkness begin to come to her. It took a choking hold on her, and her hand began to shake, straining under the crushing pressure of the dark energies that heavily weighed on her. The room was pitch black around them, though the runes glowed as if stealing the light from the room. Andraste was suddenly in pain and she began to feel parts of herself be torn away. It was as if her insides were being clawed out.

"N-No... NO!"

She cried out, feeling herself slip away. She knew she was going to die. The Force was in control. It was taking all of her energy and strength, greedily forcing her own life energy out and replacing it. She attempted to pull away from it, but she couldn't. She was roped down, rooted in place. At last, she began to fade, falling into darkness. She felt herself grow weaker, her eyes slowly closing.

Everything went black.

It was a spiraling void. The clouds circled into a gray vortex that led to more darkness. It was pitch black. However, the darkness became a shape. It was a shape she could grab and mold. It was a shape she could contort. Within this alternate plane of existence she could grasp it and use it however she pleased. She reached for it then, and to her delight it was tangible. She yanked it to herself.

Outwardly, Andraste cried out once more. However, the darkness spilled out from her in all its glory. The earth trembled underneath them, and the shockwave rippled out throughout the forge. It knocked over vials and other tools, knocking over shelves. It exploded outwards with enough force to send Azool toppling back. It was the Force in its most raw and vengeful form, swirling like a dervish around her. It became the vortex, and it existed within the realm they were in. It was alive, throbbing and angry. Andraste's eyes glowed white, and it was obvious she was not in control of this.

Despite the damaging effects of this near death experience, the task was completed. The obscene amount of energy had spread outward with the force of a thousand angry beasts, though much of it was imbued into the sword. After it was over, Andraste was on the ground, breathing heavily. The light had returned to the room and she was shaking. She slowly looked up at Azool, her eyes wide with shock.