Post by Lord Anarcus on Feb 21, 2006 17:18:44 GMT -5
[glow=white,4,300]The Catalyst[/glow]
Name:
(Birth) Marik Rayth
(Alias) Lord Anarcus
Refers to himself as: Quarran Jeth
Known to use the following identities/alias':
The Catalyst
Darth Korbanus
Injustice
The Red Death
The Sin Slave
Race:
Human
Gender:
Male
Age:
29
Height:
5'10
Weight:
Approximately 170 Ibs.
Home Planet:
Ziost
Alignment:
Dark/Neutral
Masters (Mainly, anyway):
Malas/Darth Sicarius
Skor/Lord Illuminatus
Position:
Chief Bodyguard of General Okuma Acheron
Lord Hierarch of the Black Skulls
Previous positions:
Jedi Knight
Sith Knight
Chief Advisor to the Dark Lord (Malas)
Chief Advisor to the Dark Lord (Skor)
Chief Advisor to the Dark Lord (Magnus)
Sith Legend
Field General/Field Commander of the Redclaws
Sith Lord
Commander of the Redclaws
Dark Prophet of the Unholy Alliance
Specialization:
Combat (Adept at all forms)
Preferred weapon:
Double-bladed lightsaber
Time at Gametalk:
Nearly 6 years at RPGChat, about 2 or so at J/S
Appearance:
(As leader of the Catalyst Order)
(As "The Catalyst")
Marik is rarely found without his blackened Sith cloak on. The cloak is awkwardly sleeveless, yet it was not originally this way, as shown by the torn edges. The robe had a haunting appeal to it, the rough ends of the latter part curving upwards as it touched the ground, weaving within themselves before becoming mere spikes of cloth. As he was a Sith Lord, his youthful skin was soft and delicate, light in tone. Yet, letting himself go to the Dark Side and dubbing himself "The Catalyst" had altered his appearance. His skin, once frail, had now become darkened and sickly. The tips of his fingers numbed, becoming pitch black. Jagged cracks of pure darkness ran down jaggedly down his forearm, twisting into spirals before disappearing within the shadow of his robe. His beautiful ivory hair had become a dull grey, withering at it's frayed tips as it messily protrudes out of his hood.
His Jedi training served the greater purpose towards the end, as a manipulated mix of Force Heal and Life Drain granted him his youth. The dark entities within his malformed and twisted face died as it regained form, perfectly mirroring that of his earlier days as a Sith Lord. His hair glimmered in the moonlight once again, as did his perfectly hued skin adorn his suprisingly attractive face. His soft lips merely accented his brilliant eyes in calmness, only to compete with his again youthful body in pureness.
To think this would lead to happiness was only a childish dream, that upon being obtained, only deepened the scar within his mind. Remorse, self-loathing, and a terrible emotional agony was easily recognized from his movements and gestures. His sense of humor had becomed drowned out by his sorrow, and the light attitude of the once widely known 'Marik Rayth' had morphed into a bitter hatred that constantly schemed of avengeful murder.
History (Actual events at Gametalk):
Marik, originally an ambitious Jedi Knight, started his destiny off by mere curiosity. Upon finishing his Jedi training, he was ordered by the Jedi Council to study ancient Sith holograms, many of which had yet to be decoded. His eagerness to get the task done had led into a pure obsession, eventually corrupting his once righteous spirit. Partially seduced by the Dark Side, his studies led him to the Sith-inhabited planet of Korriban. Upon entering the planet, he was ambushed by three Sith. The Dark Lord Sicarius, The Lord of Chaos, and The Wandering Odin all attacked him at once. Marik held them off for somewhile, eventually being overpowered due to lack of experience.
The Dark Lord, after witnessing the determination of the Jedi, decided to take him as a pupil, placing Marik as his Chief Advisor. He sat in the shadows for years, master-minding many of the Dark Lord's actions secretly. Then, Marik vanished suddenly. After an absence of roughly 2 years, he again regained his position, this time taking note of a Sith Lord, Skor. His fondness for action led him to becoming Skor's closest apprentice, joining the elite faction within the Sith known as 'The Redclaws'. Following Skor closely in his actions, Marik led assaults on the Jedi, notably one on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. The Sith Legend's (Very subtle title, higher rank than a Sith Knight) aggressiveness and success led to his lordship upon Sicarius' death. Skor was established as the Dark Lord Sinnus, planting Marik firmly within the Sith as Commander of the Redclaws and lording him. The name awarded to Marik upon his lordship was to become legendary, Lord Anarcus.
Anarcus, still the Chief Advisor to the Dark Lord, had surpassed all his fellow Sith. Rivaled only by title with Demona, one whom he had taken an oath to protect, he gained a fearsome reputation swiftly. Then, Sinnus briefly left the throne, disappointingly neglecting Anarcus and instead choosing a lower Sith, Darth Magnus, as temporary heir. Magnus had optimistic plans for the Sith Order, trying to bring it to a level of unification that had never been reached before. Though hesistant at first, Anarcus once again became the word and blade of the Dark Lord, spreading the thought of unification through the Universe briefly until Magnus' dethronement by Sinnus. Sinnus, who had returned, decided that he wanted the title no more, awarding it to his former master and previous Dark Lord, Lord Sicarius. Anarcus, who had grown tired of his stand-still position, decided to seek out other means of gaining power. In his travels he crossed paths numerous times with a Jedi Master by the name Ket Jia, both of whom had gained respect for the other due to their growing reputation. Many verbal fights and contradictions to either's sides followed their failed attempts at converting, yet, opening a new sense of realization on Anarcus' part.
He realized the flaws within the Sith Order, the fake pledges and selfish desires of ambitious ones hindered it's teachings. He wanted to be a part of it no more. Yet, with his hatred for Jedi still burning in his veins, he did not seek their guidance. Instead, he was to carve his own destiny, unwilling to accept failure. He dubbed himself "The Catalyst" of the Sith, and gained many followers through his promises of a pure Order. Sinnus, now only a Sith Lord, declared war on The Catalyst, claiming that he was a heretic to the Sith Order. Seceding and renouncing his title, Anarcus created an alternate Sith Order to meet Sinnus in battle. Sinnus had gathered the Redclaws and had re-established them as "The Iron Fist". Enraged by the Sith Lord's actions, Anarcus roused up "The Unholy Alliance", the blade of the Order of Sith Hierarchy. Now, in the brink of The War of Fatal Remorse, former master Sinnus and pupil Anarcus strive for power, and the extinction of the other.
Then, it happened. His imprisonment inside hypocrisy. He had become his own enemy, a thorn from within. Abandoning the followers of the Catalyst Order, knowing that he was not the true leader, he seeked for answers. Yet, he came back to an old habit, one that rid his mind of these dellusional thoughts of guilt. His longing for bloodlust, when quenched, had empowered him, made him whole again. With the rising superpower, the Black Hand Empire, gaining his attention, he sought violence. Becoming the Bodyguard to an old ally, General Okuma Acheron of the BHE Marine Corps, shall grant him the thirst that he desired.
The war had ended, perhaps not publically, but it's heart that had onced thrived with such vicious hatred had died abruptly. Silence carved a gap in the distance between Anarcus and Skor, both of whom had stepped down from their positions and authority. Perhaps Skor had won, perhaps Anarcus. Nothing was for sure, nothing ever was. Skor was to adorn himself with the duties of a hermit, living off the nature and studying the Dark Side's tremendous core that had all too soon been forgotten. Anarcus was a slave, however. He had no freedom, a compelling call within him led him to war and confliction. He would alone stand as the sole enemy of the Sith, and even in his death, he would still be feared and hated. A narrow path that only stupidity led to, with no rewards nor redemption for the intolerable acts that you carved into the destiny of yourself, into the destiny of those who follow you, and into the destiny of those who despise you. It was his empty future that compelled him to quit, and yet it also made him strive to continue even moreso.
Running out of options, Anarcus had been forced to seek other allies. He was losing more prestigue and reputation with every sun-down, and all was not well. Without the adequate numbers to battle the Sith, namely the Dark Lord himself, Anarcus needed to dwell on his capability to unite others who fought a common enemy. He sought out a former enemy, a former Dark Lord, whom he had never previously been fond of. It was Palin. He could almost feel her dragging him towards her as he approached, sealing his deceptive fate within a mere conversation. She had become his ally, and another, whom he had not expected, was willing to join. Out of the shadows, the only one whom Anarcus truly had feared approached him. Yet another former Dark Lord, the Lord of Chaos. Buried memories of morbidity ran jaggedly within Marik's mind as he unintentionally let the thoughts of his last day as a Jedi sink between his skull, casting a shadow upon what he saw. His last day as a Jedi came to him on Korriban, when he was viciously ambushed. It was his last day as a savior who sought to end all violence, and his first day of a blood-thirsty conquerer with intentions as dark as his heart.
Yet, the sinister urge they dwelled within him could seemingly not be quenched within the BHE alone. The shadows of the Coruscant Jedi Temple's stairs whispered tales of gore in his passing, as he was accompanied with the only Sith who truly stayed his ally, Magnus. "No remorse" had been the only command. Flames enshrouded the Temple as Anarcus and Magnus stepped inward, only to be suprisingly disappointed. The cowards were not running amok, only dwelling in fear, basking in their prized cowardice as they hid from them. Marik slowly stepped out into the night's air, it's damned claws grasping ahold of him as he seemingly disappeared within the shadow of the night.
The non-violent mood was dropping, however. Anarcus would not be comforted with the thought of rest. There was much to do and limited time for this one to do so. He had already gathered plots inside his head, magnificently woven designs of battle and bloodshed to end all, for eternity. If one man made it past this war, he shall be crowned with the corrupt circlet adorned for a true God of War. The prince who's blade held the most blood would be granted this devilish halo, that of which everyone longed for within their demented thoughts or within their fake righteousness they tried to portray while wearing the title of 'Jedi'. All was to be lost, only the darkest of all illusions to be obtained. It was a perfect ploy, one of which Anarcus could not fathom creating. There was to be an Apocalypse, perhaps through his history he had made an Apocalypse anthem for all to follow. None had trod the path that Marik's feet embedded footsteps on, yet many would follow in his footsteps, and he feared that many had already.
And so, a nameless awe of pure silence strangled the universe as the deed had been done, and the throne cast. Skor was Dark Lord again, and he sought for Palin's death. This was not going to happen. Anarcus slowly trod down the narrow alleyways of Coruscant, intending to meet Palin once again after that fateful night months before. His eyes began playing tricks on him, or so he though. Dementia led his eyes on a path only to see, beyond the darkness that surrounded him, his arch nemesis, Skor, suspended in a doorway due to Palin's Force Power. Anarcus acted in instinct, utilizing the Force in every muscle possible, breaking the limits of what was previously though as the boundry. His saber cut through Skor's torso easily, shredding him from his right waist to his left shoulder.
It had been done. His destiny was no more, his fate had been decided, and yet, he was still alive. There was still more to do, and he would choose the path of a King as he granted the Crown of the Dark Side to himself. There were more with potential that needed to be sought out, and there were more who needed to learn the ways of The Catalyst.
His agony would not end so soon. He knew what he was, and what he had become, a plague upon the universe that was slowly tearing an incurable hole in the Force. Through power, he sought to save and free the Force, and yet, carving his shadow into it was not helping. He was a legend, so they say, and he knew when it was time. Anarcus, The Catalyst, had his fate decided, he was to be the sole puppet in a suicide mission that went beyond what the BHE or Sith Order had commanded. He could feel nothing, he could taste nothing, he was dead already. Even as dark as in his peak, he was still sensible. The Sith would not shine with him leading, nor would they progress as long as The Catalyst was alive to rival them, or assist them.
((Death to be added shortly))
Weapons:
Anarcus has many lightsabers, most of which adorn his belt, and were not originally his. With every kill he makes, another lightsaber decorates his belt, usually that of whom fell victim to his blade. Marik has made many custom lightsabers however, most merely slightly updating the latter.
Anarcus' Original Saber:
Injustice:
His original lightsaber, "Injustice", was a single-hilt red lightsaber. It was unique, however. Intricate designs of unfair cruelty covered it's metallic crimson hilt, glimmering in the light beautifully a burgundy red. It was doused in the blood of Jedi, with each kill he added a new layer. The engravings on it's hilt showed a burning village, with two noticeable men in the foreground. One man, cloaked in a black robe and depicted as a Sith, was shown stabbing his blade through the defenseless man. In the background, it showed women and children screaming for their lives while being massacred and captured for slavery. On the bottom tip of the hilt, lies a 4x4 inch skull. It's mouth it opened unnaturally, seemingly unproportionately large, depicting a blood-curtling scream. On it's forehead, the word "Injustice" was carved in what looked to be blood, the letters barely legible as the blood dripped down it's face. This lightsaber is no longer in his possesion, for he awarded it to the Jedi Knight Kavis Knesos in mid-duel when Anarcus destroyed his foe's weapon.
Catalyst:
A replica of "Injustice", his latter weapon, "Catalyst" bore many similarites. It's engravings were different, however. It showed an illustration of a lone Sith, surrounded by both sides by Jedi, ripping through the crowd of foes with his saber and Lightning. This Sith was slaughtering the Jedi horde easily, becoming a Catalyst through his effort and determination to murder his opponents. This lightsaber was left at the Sith Academy accidentally when Anarcus decided to secede. The idea of his title, "The Catalyst", came from a brief glance at this lightsaber. He stood up immediately, unintentionally leaving his weapon on the ground where he sat as he walked out of the Academy.
Blades of Heresy:
These two sabers were created by Anarcus when being labeled a "heretic" by his former master, the Sith Lord Skor. Marik always had a tendancy to reflect his reputation through his lightsabers or robes, wanting his misconscruted image to become realistic. The "Blades of Heresy" were actually custom-designed to match his warbanner, despite their lack of skulls and menacing figures. Still, fond of spiral figures, Anarcus designed the hilts to be uniquely different, serving both appearance and function. Since their creation had been prior to that of Fatal Remorse's, the lightsabers have nothing but cold metal on their surface.
Fatal Remorse:
A double-bladed crimson lightsaber that he made custom for himself, Anarcus decided to name it after the war it would partake in. It's onyx-colored hilt perfectly reflected his new personality, and it's lack of complex design mirrored his thought of elaborate appearances. Such details were not necessary. It had very minor spikes, looking like claws, for both show and better grip. With Force-sensitive buttons that are easily switched on by mental impulses, Fatal Remorse is ideal for quickly defending an unexpected attack. Marik, who had been testing and experimenting with mixing Force techniques and lightsaber forms had also added a coating of electricity-conducting material to nullify any damage Fatal Remorse would obtain upon lightning touching it's surface.
Sinister Urge:
His dreams for technological advancement had not stopped with Fatal Remorse. No, more had to have been done, more updates and strength was needed. Where there was evil, there were dark thoughts that shall eventually spread their wings and form a fearsome shadow. As had happened with 'Sinister Urge', named after an adjective Marik used to described what compelled him. A double-bladed lightsaber with godly capabilities, burning with the reddened color of Jedi blood that only accented the burgundy hilt. Marik's desire to completely incorperate the Force into a lightsaber would lead to his next creation. The most feared and dreaded of all Sith techniques, Force Lightning, would be woven into this intricately designed thread. Upon the lightsaber's blades igniting, a shockwave would arouse. With conducting material on his hands and the lightsaber's surface, the lightning that ran wildly from side to side would have no affect on him whatsoever, only causing more damage to his enemies.
Hands of Death:
With his spiteful thoughts and procedures that created Sinister Urge, only more could fufill what he wished to obtain still. Two black single-hilts that could be connected at the bottom to form a double-bladed lightsaber with a crimson lens, encryptions barely visible of skulls adorning the buttons and bottom hilt, much like Injustice. These were different, however. They mimicked Sinister Urge's lightning capabilities and added diversity, so the Hands of Death could seperate into two hilts when needed.
Crown of the Dark Side:
The epidemy of Anarcus, dark and demented in it's appearance, yet with the potential and capabilities that surpassed all, leaving none to competition. It was the darkest of all onyx, undefiled of light or brightness. The Crown of the Dark Side was merely a solidified pulsing shadow, not even did it glimmer in the light. Just as his original saber had, it's designs were of skulls. Not like the Hands of Death, however, but different. The skulls were crying out in pain and agony, even as hands surrounded them, pulling them towards the center of the circular object. It's mere touch could drive a man insane, and did so. Yet, it's frayed tips of sanity that the aura had dwelled upon did not alter Anarcus, for he was no longer sane himself. Just as all who opened their souls to the Dark Side would endure, the Crown of the Dark Side portrayed the illusions and nightmares beautifully.
War Banners:
Marik Rayth:
Injustice:
Lord Anarcus:
The Catalyst:
Current Fortress:
Khar Delba was Naga Sadow's private world. On its surface he built a massive fortress to house his treasures, knowledge, and all his defenses...or so it seemed. On the dark side of the moon of Khar Delba, Khar Shian, Sadow had another fortress, his real stronghold, exactly like the one on the surface of the planet. The decoy fortress on Khar Delba was constructed in case of attack. Sadow's shrewdness served him well. In the dispute over the Republic invasion, the power-hungry Sith Lord Ludo Kressh attacked the decoy fortress in order to destroy Sadow and take the title of Dark Lord of the Sith for himself. As he attacked the false fortress, Sadow's ships came out from behind the dark side of Khar Shian from the real fortress and destroyed Kressh's fleet. Sadow then put his slaves to work rebuilding his fortress, calling Sith Lords from all over the Empire to converge on Khar Delba in preparation for the assault against the Republic. Yet, Anarcus found the idle world again, hoping to revive it's dark aura. It's dead castles remained intact, becoming ideal for The Unholy Alliance to reside within. Anarcus restored Naga Sadow's grandest, establishing it as a minor base for the BHE after abandoning his views as a Catalyst.
Theme Songs:
#1 - Megadeth's "Addicted to Chaos"
#2 - Megadeth's "Reckoning Day"
#1 - Megadeth's "Addicted to Chaos"
Only yesterday they told me you were gone;
All these normal people, will I find another one?
Monkey on my back, aching in my bones;
I forgot you said "One day you'll walk alone";
I said I need you, does that make me wrong?
Am I a weak man, are you feeling strong?
My heart was blackened, it's bloody red;
A hole in my heart, a hole in my head...
Who will help me up?
Where's the helping hand?
Will you turn on me?
Is this my final stand?
In a dream I cannot see;
Tangled abstract fallacy;
Random turmoil builds in me;
I'm addicted to chaos...
Light shined on my path, turn bad days into good;
Turn breakdowns into blocks, I smashed 'em 'cause I could;
My brain was labored, my head would spin;
Don't let me down, don't give up, don't give in;
The rain comes down, cold wind blows;
The plans we made are back up on the road;
Turn up my collar, welcome the unknown;
Remember that you said "One day you'll walk alone"...
Who will help me up?
Where's the helping hand?
Will you turn on me?
Is this my final stand?
In a dream I cannot see;
Tangled abstract fallacy;
Random turmoil builds in me;
I'm addicted to chaos...
Who will help me up?
Where's the helping hand?
Will you turn on me?
Is this my final stand?
In a dream I cannot see;
Tangled abstract fallacy;
Random turmoil builds in me;
I'm addicted to chaos...
#2 - Megadeth's "Reckoning Day"
I like the way that I make you itch
And all the reasons I give you to bitch
And how I make you wanna scream in pain
And feel your life is just a losing game
I like the way that you let me in
The way you look when the walls cave it
I like the way that your stomach knots
And how you cry for it all to stop
I like the way that you fool yourself
And make believe there's nobody else
I like the way that you stand in line
And beg salvation from the empty skies
Don't want no revenge
Ain't no pay back time
It ain't called getting even
Here comes the reckoning day
I like the things that you try to fake
And your face when I see you break
And that you say you will pray for me
You realize you are prey for me
I like the way you stay on attack
No matter what, I keep coming back
And how you try to hold me down
But you end up driven to the ground
Don't want no revenge
Ain't no pay back time
It ain't called getting even
Here comes the reckoning day
