Culling the Weak

[Reddsentinel]

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Korriban
Valley of the Dark Lords
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The sun had begun to set on the dismal canyon, casting long dark shadows from the ruined pillars and statues that littered the sands. An occasional desert creature would skult out from its den and scutter across the ruined courtyard, past the large mass huddled there. The small group was composed of dark robed figures,mailing there silently. The proving would start soon, and the air was thick with anxiety and fear, they had heard the stories about these sort of ceremonies. They were mainly tales of horror from older members of the brotherhood about how many did!'t make it out alive or how they would face unknowable horrors. The main object of their fear was the large monolithic structure jutting out of the sand in front of them. The structure itself was built into the side of the canyon, with one large staircase leading up to a small entrance flanked by crumbling pillars.

The nature of the proving was simple, one of them was to be chosen as an apprentice. The question of who was to be their potential master was on all of their minds. Some had heard that they were an immense juggernaut of immeasurable dark power, others had heard that they were an elder sorcerer whose power with the force was unmatched. They quietly gossiped to stave off the unsettling atmosphere of the location, but stopped suddenly as they heard the slow echoing footsteps of someone decsending the stairs. The figure was covered head to toe in a black robe, while its face was covered by a silver mask with what seemed to be blood running from the eye slits. The figure raised folded its arms and began to speak in a distinctly male voice "I see you have all made it to my test, I can only hope that among you is my future pupil. This challenge will test your willpower, strength, and adaptability. It will push you to your limits and beyond." He slowly pointed to the building behind him "In there is your test, what you shall face in there I cannot say but it will separate those of you who are unworthy of serving under me. I shall accompany you all inside, but do not expect help from me and only refer to me as Master Werda." He stopped for a second as if to catch his breath "If you die do so quietly, the sound of your screaming will give me a headache." A cold mirthless laugh quickly followed this statement, before Aemon turned on his heel and started to ascend the stairs. Leaving the acolytes to quickly follow.


@Valjan Hon'rey

 

[Valjan Hon'rey]

Valjan found herself relatively alone, many of the acolytes were far younger than she was and her own time on Korriban thus far had been one of isolated reverence for just what this planet was out of the memories she couldn't quite grasp. One of the trainers had assigned her here, likely to weed her out most probably seen as a weakness in her short time on Korriban. Valek was a little shit of a Sith, caught in his own little power trip as the gate between Acolytes and Sith Lords. Fool that he is he forgets that the Lords themselves choose who is or is not worthy, he also was none too kind to former slaves. Valjan despised the man, snapping back at him probably far more often than she should and dancing dangerously on the edge of his own anger with her nonchalant attitude towards his tasks. She figured he was probably a very useful trainer however, shit that he was learning to despise him almost certainly aided acolytes to push themselves ever harder if not out of spite alone than to strike the bastard down someday. Giving a sharp grin from under the bronze and silver re-breather helmet shined to a polish she eyed out across the darkening canyon.


It really was awe inspiring, this absolutely towering structure set into the cliff face, monolithic was fitting. It was also terrifying as most things of the Sith were, she could feel the giddy sense of apprehension at this trial starting to build in her gut as well as her hands. Tapping rhythmically against her robes the man strode out, the mask was the first thing she noticed. A thing of silver, intricate and ornate, it had the appearance of blood running from the eye slits. A desire to know how exactly he created that blood effect overtook her just before he started speaking. All attention was focused on the Sith and she took in every word, it wasn't a very long speech but was entirely encapsulating in its duration. She would not fail, this was a chance at power she wasn't sure would come at such an opportune time in the near future... and the sooner she could regain what she lost in terms of power, perhaps the fragmented histories trapped in brief flashes would reassert themselves.

She strode alongside the clustered group of acolytes after this Master Werda, subtly pushing herself to the front of the group and only getting a muffled grunt from the spot she steals. Valjan takes a long moment to observe this Sith Lord, listening to the muted whispers as the acolytes continue to follow. She decides to speak up," You will not say precisely what we face, but what is our trial Master Werda?". Her voice gives a mechanical distortion, one quite common to rebreathers.

 

[Reddsentinel]

A single voice rang out from the huddled mass of acolytes distorted and mechanized. "You will not say precisely what we face, but what is our trial Master Werda?". Aemon continued to climb up the stairs, ignoring the inquiry until he reached small landing before the entrance of the tomb. "Your trial is one of importance...to me at least. Entombed in this crypt is what remains of an ancient Sith Lord, surrounded by what he had gathered in life. One I expect you to find is simple, a single Sith Holocron will be in his burial chamber. Finding and retrieving it shall be your trial, as well as surviving what ever lurks in there after centuries of abandonment." After finishing his speech his turned slightly to get a look at the questioner, a young Zabrak woman whose face seemed to be marred by both the traditional markings of her people as well as the wounds of hardships long past.

A cold smiled flitted across his face, concealed by his mask. He had been told of a fiery acolyte whose abilities were promising, he presumed that this Zabrak was Acolyte Valjan Hon'rey. Most of her trainers had labeled her talented if a bit headstrong, as well as a few other 'quirks'. He also had read her file exstensively, noting all flaws and exploits, as well as her strengths. She was the true reason he held this proving, the others would provide ample cannon fodder for her to retrieve the artifact. The file told of how she reveled in pain, then this outing would prove to be very...therapeutic to say the least. "I will warn you this only once acolytes, do not speak out against any of my orders. Unless a lightsaber separating your idiotic head from your body seems pleasing to you." The statement was mainly directed towards Valjan but he addressed all in the crowd before him, the hushed effect it drew out of the acolytes showed that the point had been taken. He turned once again and produced a small lantern like object from his robes and lighting it before advancing into the darkness that enveloped the innards of this Stygian crypt.

@Valjan Hon'rey

 

[Valjan Hon'rey]

Valjan blinked slowly, nodding along as the Sith spoke and taking care to listen to every word. It would seem even he wasn't sure what to expect in its fullness as the group reached further into the crypt, a shame that. She very much liked to be prepared in matters of proving herself or survival... usually these were inseparable events. The Lord demanded a holocron, perhaps something she could glean a few pieces of knowledge from before returning to him. Considering what most probably lurked in a place as saturated with the force as a Sith tomb, Valjan was beginning to feel apprehensive. This was the good kind, warning her of imminent danger and screaming to flee, to be expected in the tomb but that meant ever greater rewards if she could manage to get through this trial.

The threat almost felt leveled directly at her from behind that silver mask. She bit lightly at her lip before nodding as his statement finished, a Sith Lord was a very dangerous creature one that you almost always attempted to avoid angering unless your presumptuous nature would benefit in whatever action you were trying to elicit from the Sith. She would endeavour to follow this one's commands, anything in jest might break an opportunity. As he pulled the lantern from under his robes and started to tread deeper, Valjan followed close behind. Gloved hand lightly tapping against her saber hilt.

@Reddsentinel

 

[Kaane]

Dawn was afraid.

It was not the first time that he felt the creeping talons of primal fear clutching at his heart. Leaving the safety of his sheltered life for one of relative savagery would force that upon you right quick. But the atmosphere of this particular place screamed..."offness," for lack of a better word. It was a darkness as deep as unadulterated void; even to his relatively untrained senses he could tell that much. And the red sun's light playing against the shadows of the Sith's tomb, combined with the haunting refrain of the desert wind rushing through his white hair and buffeting his pallid skin, did not do too much to assuage this gnawing, almost painful feeling of helplessness growing within him.

But he would not show it. Much as the political circles of Hapes would gladly cannibalize a weak link in a chain, so too would such a rabble of equally-afraid, less self-controlling Acolytes of an Order that prized such a barbaric philosophy. Only the fittest could survive. And with the weaknesses of his body taken into account, he knew he could not allow his mind to be equally frail.

So as this Master Werda decided to come out of the woodwork to join the Acolytes today, he merely stood and listened to him in utter silence. He hung on every word. He knew this masked gentleman cared very little for the survival of his pupils; whatever instructions he would receive he would take to heart as his white, black-fringed robes, hearkening back to his days as the speaker of the Duchess of Calfa, fluttered about to the rhythm of the butterflies in his stomach.

He strengthened his resolve in response, reminding himself of his reason for being here. He had taken this up to prove himself a worthy inferior, more than anything else. Temporarily of course. Power would come in due time. And with it he would change this galaxy. If the Jedi were too weak and unwilling to make the changes the disgruntled Hapan craved, then his power and influence as a Sith would change all that.

His time would come. One baby step here, another leap of faith there...his machinations would come to fruition. And this little excursion was just his way of proving himself worthy of progressing further.

Dawn had little time to ruminate further as the Master finished up his little speech and entered within the crypt. He took a deep breath and ventured forth with the mass of Acolytes surrounding him, activating his handheld torch and slipping on a pair of glasses meant to augment his vision in the dark; it was a desperately needed augmentation, as his own Hapan eyes were woefully inadequate to handle such low lighting. But as he reminded himself constantly, his handicaps would not stop him from progressing in his plan. He would undoubtedly prevail. He needed to.

@Reddsentinel

 

[Reddsentinel]

Oh how he had missed this. The smell of ancient stale air, the soft thud of feet upon centuries of dust, and the ever present unknown of what loomed around the next corner. It made Aemon feel alive even if he was surrounded by the dead, and the soon to be dead. The price of a few lives was worth the knowledge to be gained in these ancient halls. The crypt itself was remarkably intact, the corridors devoid of rubble. A few tattered tapestries hung limply along the walls, shifting slightly as he walked by. The floor remained unadorned, void of any decoration expect for a thick carpet of dust.

A thought nagged at the edge of his mind, how has this place gone unnoticed for so long? Where were the signs of grave robbers, or at least the corpses of said robbers. He stopped to the examine one of the more preserved tapestries, it was decorated with fine golden thread. Depicting various imagery, almost indecipherable from the ravages of time. The quality of the craftsmanship however, still managed to keep it from falling apart all together. Footsteps echoing behind him showed that the acolytes has finally caught up to him. Turning to face him he addressed them quickly "I have no doubt in my mind that this path shall branch off into a labyrinthine complex, and to ensure that the objective is completed you shall all divide into pairs. Do so quickly so that we can avoid wasting valuable time."

@Valjan Hon'rey

 

[Valjan Hon'rey]

Valjan followed closely, mentally mapping the journey thus far and taking a moment to admire the remnants of what must once have been a glorious sight. Tattered tapestries hung as if untouched by anything but time itself, the less ravaged ones hinting at the decadence that this Sith lord must once have employed in their rule. It filled her with pride at the possibilities the Sith allowed while simultaneously brought a pang of regret and hatred at what must have been necessary to build this tomb. She wouldn't allow herself to drift into those thoughts long, there was work to be done and a potential path to power to be fulfilled. The Sith began speaking and Valjan listened closely, as he finished his statement she began to ponder. Splitting off in pairs had to be more than just a pragmatic approach but perhaps a test itself, to measure would be allies quickly?

She searched the group, all the acolytes seemed ill prepared for tomb raiding to her though a few stood out for potentially useful traits. Those larger than her may be precious meat-shields against some of the dangers undoubtedly present deeper in the tombs, though they could also be difficult to handle without knowing their intentions more clearly. Weaker then, she would focus on those who appeared frail. Her own image fitting this quality she considered the merits to this plan, frailty might mean strengths in other areas perhaps another valuable mind. This meant a more dangerous opponent if alliances shifted however, and no matter how focused on partnership she needed to be the potential for betrayal among acolytes all vying for the same opportunity was great. Frailty may be more easily overcome in a snap-judgement situation. A young man very out of place with the rest of the Sith caught her eye, a figure in embroidered light compared to the dark and muted colors of most of the acolytes, frail by appearance. She approached him swiftly before another could and extended her hand, speaking out in a soft voice with a smile edging across her lips," Valjan Hon'rey, I propose we tackle this tomb together."

Valjan steadied herself in a demeanor of trust and exemplified the frailer aspects of her form, hoping to build an initial sense of ease with this acolyte. No matter her suspicions of the entire group, this was an excersize in teamwork, she would be prepared for the distinct possibility of betrayal but to set off with a certainty of it would be foolish. She kept the smile tight lipped but warm, the carnivorous aspects of her species quite prominent with sharpened teeth she didn't wish to portray immediately.

@Kaane

 

[Kaane]

Pairs, hm? pondered Dawn quietly. This was somewhat unexpected; he had assumed this would be more about self-reliance than anything else. But then again, the formation of temporary alliances and relationships was a cornerstone of political navigation. He could only imagine it was similar in the world of the Sith. Albeit with a bit more fighting. And dying. And electrocuting.

Now that he came to think of it, subtle politics and the Sith didn't really go together very well.

The brightly-clad gentleman searched the group, eyes scanning the image projected into his eyes from his glasses. He didn't want to be paired with a hulking behemoth consumed by utter hatred; words, his only strength in this situation, mattered little when your partner wasn't listening. Not to mention he would get utterly destroyed in any sort of combat. He had yet to master his own body much less the lightsaber dangling on his belt. No, he was searching for someone a bit more agreeable than that. Someone he could deal with if things somehow went wrong, which knowing the mercurial nature of these people, would undoubtedly happen at some point.

But as he surveyed the Acolytes before him, some remaining stock still at the news, eyes shifting to and fro in distrust, while others very happily attempted to form alliances with the stronger members of the group, he noticed one of them walking towards him briskly. A Zabrak, by the looks of it, one with an eager smile on her face. Perhaps too eager, he noted.

Despite his reservations, he returned her a warm smile of his own as she offered her partnership. While his trust of the Acolytes surrounding him was almost non-existent, having someone along to aid his weaknesses, at least temporarily, was invaluable. As long as he kept an eye or two in the back of his head.

"I would be a fool to not accept your generous offer, Val'jan." He took her hand, hoping she wouldn't feel his erratic pulse, and bowed his upper body, the politesse of his upbringing as a Hapan male still quite prevalent in his gesture. To be fair it was more of a reflex than anything else, his conscious mind internally chastising him for it. But a show of agreeableness would serve him well here. "Call me Dawn.

He raised his head again, turning his attention to the dark pathway ahead. He could only assume danger awaited him. Possibly death if he was careless. Or his partner decided he was no longer needed.

He took deeply of the air of death and darkness surrounding him. Why was he doing this again?

@Reddsentinel

 

[Reddsentinel]

He had ordered them in pairs for the sake of convenience, also to make sure he could accurately assess the casualties in the aftermath of this excursion. Aemon quickly scanned the crowd, his mouth cracked into a cold smile as he saw his plan slowly coming together. The two most promising candidates, Val'jan and Dawn had gravitated towards each other. They were the true reason for this culling, the other 'candidates' were mere cannon fodder to make sure that Val'jan and Dawn wouldn't be taken by the ancient traps or beast that most likely guarded this place. He didn't underestimate the two, they could prove to be a formidable pair when placed in the right situation. He couldn't take the risk of losing them, otherwise his months of planning would be for naught. "I assume that you have finished pairing up. Now I want each pair to start making their way through this labyrinth, your main objective is a holocron. However if you find any other treasures worth keeping collect them if you would, just make sure that the object is worth your life." His tone was imperious and commanding, made more so by the echo bouncing off the high vaulted ceilings. He pointed towards Val'jan and Dawn, motioning for them to come with him.

He left the panic stricken acolytes to tend to themselves as he strode further into the darkness that enveloped the corridor. The other pairs would hopefully be picked off one by one in this death trap of a crypt but if in the case that one acolyte actually completed the objective, which Aemon highly doubted, then they would be given a simple pat on the back and shipped back to the academy. He had no use for another protégé, but would keep them in mind for future reference.

@Valjan Hon'rey

 

[Kaane]

Dawn looked over to the rather commanding presence, noticing he was pointing directly at him and Valjan. With a slight motion to her, he strode up, confidently but obediently, to the man who had summoned them.

He bowed in his presence, lower than he had to Valjan, but still not excessively exaggerated. There was a difference between being respectful and insincere after all, as his former etiquette teacher continuously told him.

"Sir," said the blanched Hapan quietly, his even-paler-than-normal face the only clue that his heart rate had just dramatically increased. He had no idea what this man wanted with them. And though he was no stranger to speaking with higher-ups, he was very much a stranger to speaking with demigods that could probably flatten him with the flick of a wrist. That also happened to be higher-ups.

"You called upon us?" he managed to say firmly. He would have to get over this sooner or later. And facing up to it would be the only way to do it.