The dark hellish tomb that contained the man who was so dead in all aspects of life became alive once again with the slow awakening of a monster..A man who's appearance was so physically deformed that it was a tough call on whether or not the thing was human or some kind of new race to the galaxy.. The human, his name was Artyr.. The former Dark Apprentice of the Sith..
A slow rise to his feet, he could barely stand still, forced to lean on the dusty, dead wall which was tatooed with dark, wicked designs of the old Sith Order, markings which would never be understood to mankind of the present.. A dark scar had come to be on his left arm, a scar that was not there before the sacrifice.. Wicked at best, it covered most of his forearm and there was no point in hiding it from curious eyes. The Sith Sword that made that deadly wound was found lying on the ground, very close to where the Sith was put to rest.. Slowly moving to pick up the blade, Artyr knew what had happened, and he had accepted his decision.
Lord Artyr had cut himself off from the Force, transfering it to perhaps, a better place.. Where the Force could be used to a better extent..
The Sword that had pierced his arm and began Artyr's death to the Force was placed within it's shealth on Artyr's side, with no real use for a weapon at the time being. His lightsaber, it still had it's deathly red glow to it, the very red glow that overcame countless Jedi opponents over the years the lightsaber served the man.
Although weak, and terrifyingly hungry, Artyr was able to continue on, his body and mind were built to fight harder when hit harder, the closer to death the beast became, the more will he would have, meaning the better he would use his strength and abilities..He wanted to..Kill..He wanted to fight.. Have a challenge fit for a true Sith, a fight that would show that he would not need the Force. All he needed was his blade, for his finesse with swords could be at times a hard feat to overtake, making him a powerfull enemy, Force or no.
Artyr did not expect the Sith to accept him into their ranks..It did not matter. He would hunt the Jedi, one side or the other.. Slowly leaving the dead tomb behind him..Artyr began his journey to come to the Sith in the Academy.. There were no secrets for Artyr to uncover within the tomb, for he did not need the Force anymore.. He could not use it, and it could hardly effect him.. His mind kept the Force out of his head, there was nothing for the Force too touch, a barrier, a barrier that would protect him from the best of powers..
Taking his first step out onto the dry sunlite Valley of the Dark Lords, Artyr had never felt more alive..
A slow rise to his feet, he could barely stand still, forced to lean on the dusty, dead wall which was tatooed with dark, wicked designs of the old Sith Order, markings which would never be understood to mankind of the present.. A dark scar had come to be on his left arm, a scar that was not there before the sacrifice.. Wicked at best, it covered most of his forearm and there was no point in hiding it from curious eyes. The Sith Sword that made that deadly wound was found lying on the ground, very close to where the Sith was put to rest.. Slowly moving to pick up the blade, Artyr knew what had happened, and he had accepted his decision.
Lord Artyr had cut himself off from the Force, transfering it to perhaps, a better place.. Where the Force could be used to a better extent..
The Sword that had pierced his arm and began Artyr's death to the Force was placed within it's shealth on Artyr's side, with no real use for a weapon at the time being. His lightsaber, it still had it's deathly red glow to it, the very red glow that overcame countless Jedi opponents over the years the lightsaber served the man.
Although weak, and terrifyingly hungry, Artyr was able to continue on, his body and mind were built to fight harder when hit harder, the closer to death the beast became, the more will he would have, meaning the better he would use his strength and abilities..He wanted to..Kill..He wanted to fight.. Have a challenge fit for a true Sith, a fight that would show that he would not need the Force. All he needed was his blade, for his finesse with swords could be at times a hard feat to overtake, making him a powerfull enemy, Force or no.
Artyr did not expect the Sith to accept him into their ranks..It did not matter. He would hunt the Jedi, one side or the other.. Slowly leaving the dead tomb behind him..Artyr began his journey to come to the Sith in the Academy.. There were no secrets for Artyr to uncover within the tomb, for he did not need the Force anymore.. He could not use it, and it could hardly effect him.. His mind kept the Force out of his head, there was nothing for the Force too touch, a barrier, a barrier that would protect him from the best of powers..
Taking his first step out onto the dry sunlite Valley of the Dark Lords, Artyr had never felt more alive..