The Sith Sorcerer's Apprentice

[Srota]

It was dark, dark and damp, deep within the dungeon. Sin'ryk liked to hold his sessions there, and the screams of pain coming from the other rooms within echoed throughout the room. While it had first been a distraction upon his arrival at the mansion, it was now slowly becoming one of his favorite ambiances within the home. He could not help but smile at the pain and suffering being caused at the hands of his master, and the hate it was fostering deep within the souls of his victims. Hatred for Sin'ryk, hatred for their allies who had abandoned them to this fate, or even hatred for themselves for letting themselves be put into this position. It was honestly rather enjoyable!

A shudder of pure pleasure ran down Pol's spine as he made his way down the hallway and towards the door to where his master had called him. Lately, he had shirked his studies and he knew that such a lack of effort would not be well received by his master. But he did not matter, there had been battles and chances for him to improve his standing within the Empire as a whole. There had even been a mission to recover some stolen crystals alongside a rather unusual man. He smiled at the thought of his new friend, Guanerei, and even allowed his mental control to slip for a moment and a ripple of amusement to be emitted outwards within the force. He could sense the presence of Sin'ryk as he made his way through the hallway, ever dark and imposing, it was like a heavy weight upon his chest, making it more difficult to breathe. While most would normally find such a presence restrictive, Pol found it rather comforting, providing him with a sense of challenge, and a goal. After all, that was what he needed most. A goal, something to work towards, something to define who he was. For he did not truly know, himself.

Slowly, he turned, feeling the weight press down harder, indicating his master's presence on the other side of the door, and he allowed his mind to reach outwards, sending a burst of emotion outwards and into the mind of his master. He would not bother knocking, this would tell his master enough.

Arrival. Eagerness. Readiness to learn. A hint of impatience. They came flooding out of his mind, through the mental bridge that was slowly becoming second nature to Pol now that he used his new-found powers on a more regular basis. Slowly, they came to Sin'ryk, and without waiting for approval that he knew would be there anyway, Pol severed the bridge and reached out with the force, using it to slowly open the door with a loud CREAK.

 

[Darth Maleficar]

Thick incense clouded the inside of the room; though he could not see it, he could still smell it. So overpowering it was, one could smell nothing else...and that was how Sin'ryk truly preferred it. It allowed him to truly hone his empirical senses, keeping him from being too dependent on his Force Sight; many were the foes who mastered techniques that concealed themselves within the Force. Not to mention the fact that being able to sense the suffering of those in his dungeons tends to be somewhat off putting when delving into the Dark Side's higher mysteries; like wine, the suffering was enhancing...but too much can be intoxicating for the individual. This was something the High Arcanist couldn't allow, especially given what he had prepared this chamber for; spartan as it was, the only decoration the room had was an altar taken from the abandoned Sith ruins Dromund Kaas.

A wave of emotion washed over him, his apprentice was very near and soon he would enter. The Red Sith had some degree of concern over Pol's absence in his studies; given his recent tasks though, the training would've been second place in that matter; practical experience offered lessons theory could not, ones that the learner could easily remember...or so a Master hoped. The Kel'Dor had come, to better master himself and his powers as a Sith. No sooner had the door began to open, Sin'ryk remained as still as a statue, waiting for his apprentice to make the first greeting move. So still was he, not even his unbound hair moved.

 

[Srota]

The cloud washed over him as he entered into the smokey haze of incense that billowed through the room. He coughed slightly as a result of the overpowering aroma and haze, slowly he began to adjust to the aroma, and the coughing began to subside. Sin'ryk could hear his every step through the room, for Pol was not trying to conceal his presence, not at this time, at least. His master would likely be able to detect the staggered limp of his steps as he moved closer, not using his hands to send a proper greeting, but rather reaching out with his mind, trying to ignore the overbearing aroma of incense and smoke as he did so. It took him longer than usual to find his master's presence in the force, but as soon as he had, Pol bowed, shifting his gaze from the dark outline to the floor of the room as he allowed the words to flow from his mind to the arcanist's.

Master, I have arrived as you requested. May I ask what it is you wished to discuss with me? The words took a toll from him, and he began to pant softly, as he still struggled to chain longer sentences together. Even so, he was slowly and steadily improving in both his control and his endurance for telepathic communication. Slowly, he lowered himself further, kneeling on the floor, his head lowered, a sign of respect and submission. I wish... to apologize... for my absence... I wished to hone my skills... in a more practical... manner... He waited to hear his master's response, flinching in anticipation of his master's overwhelming presence surging over him like a wave as he responded telepathically.

 

[Darth Maleficar]

He could sense it; his apprentice's discomfort at the powerful incense present within the room. It would play a most pivotal part for the future parts of the lesson. Soon enough, he could hear Pol's 'voice' echo within his mind explaining his arrival...and why he had not been present as of late. The High Arcanist easily knew why; being within the uppermost echelons of the Sith Order gave one the means to access many details, before the participants could confirm it for themselves. As such, Sin'ryk then voiced his own thoughts.

"Practical experience is necessary to hone one's skills; knowing something is never quite as good as implementing it. There is no need to apologise."

The Red Sith then gestured for Pol to draw closer; as he did so, the Kel'dor would see the incense smoke grow thicker, its smell seemingly causing irritation within one's nasal cavities. The High Arcanist was used to it, himself being more used to inhaling considerably more potent things than this...and such potent things could kill the maladapted. As his apprentice did so, Sin'ryk then spoke again.

"Tell me of your endeavours...and tell me of all that you hope to accomplish today."