Song of A Northern Sorcerer

Groaning against the pain coursing through his head Darth Nox; Dark Lord of the Sith, Head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge, Member of the Dark Council, Heir of Tulak Hord and Kallig, Master of Death and figurehead of the Cult of the Screaming Blade, shakily raised his hand to his head in an effort to stifle the immense throbbing threatening to implode his brain. Reaching out with the Force, he felt his surroundings and was confused at what he found.

'A long-range star fighter? What the hell happened?' he asked himself as he tried desperately to remember just where he was.

Working slowly, he began to piece together his life before this moment. His enslavement at the hands of his masters. He remembered clearly the moment he'd lost his eyes. His master had ordered the death of his mother and he was forced to watched as his mother was stood up and shot by his master's house guards without a second thought. But not before he'd had Alim watch as most of the household violated his mother in the worst possible manner. The action had caused a reaction in Alim, as his eyes had turned yellow and the guard that'd killed his mother was suddenly and inexplicably choked to death where he stood. While he didn't know what the changing of his eye color meant at the time, his master sure did. And he wasn't about to let a lowly slave have the honor of being sent to Korriban. So, his master had taken a red-hot poker to his eyes and burnt away his sight. It was only after his sight had been stolen from him that he understood what he'd done. He'd used the Force. Something only the most noble and best of the Sith Empire were capable of. Not a handicapped slave boy. But despite his handicap, or perhaps because of it, Nox came into his own. He developed his Force attunement on his own, first in order to see. And second to bring revenge to his 'master'.

By the time the city guards arrived at the estate, his master and his master's mistress were little more than splats of blood coating the walls and floor of their bedroom. The other slaves showed their true colors, turning on him and ousting him immediately to the guards. But instead of being executed, as he'd expected, he was instead shipped off to Korriban. In a way, it was still a death sentence, he knew. A blind teenager with no training other than what he'd taught himself stood little chance of surviving the trials and the other acolytes made sure to remind him of that every day. But he refused to simply keel over and die. He used the Force to develop his other senses to the point where he could actually 'see' better than any other of the acolytes. Many even mistook him for a Miralukan, given that he'd taken to wearing a strip of cloth around his head to cover his useless eyes.

But despite those that doubted or laughed at him, he prevailed. He killed everyone who stood in his way in his quest to become the apprentice of Lord Zash. He particularly remembers the pleasure he felt as he killed his 'rival' Ffon, after Zash had declared him her apprentice. The memory of the pure blooded Sith's screams and pleas for mercy still brought a smile to his face, even after all these years.

Then there was his time under Zash, becoming her own personal errand boy as he went across the galaxy, fetching relics for her. Relics that she planned to use to switch their bodies as hers had become withered with age. But in the end, he'd gotten the last laugh as his faithful companion Khem Val interrupted her ritual and her spirit ended up trapped with the dashade. Only later to be expelled from the ancient beast as well and trapped within a monolith for all eternity. A fitting end for his conniving master.

After Zash, his next challenge came in the form of one Darth Thanaton. The arrogant Darth who had his head shoved so far up his ass that Nox was sure that the man could give himself an oral inspection. The man believed that just because Zash was defeated that Nox's life was forfeit as well. Well, he proved him wrong as well. It might've taken the binding of four Force ghosts to utterly decimate the idiot, but Nox did not once regret his decision. The power gained from those contracts and their subsequent release was well worth the agony that binding them brought. And in the end, it was Thanaton whose corpse was thrown out of the Temple, leaving Nox to take up his seat on the Dark Council.

Then came the battle against Revan. The Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi was a force to be reckoned with. It took the combined efforts of Nox, Darth Marr, Jedi Grandmaster Satele Shan and Jedi Knight Tabris to stop the madman. Of course, it was Nox who truly ended the fight, by helping to merge the light and dark halves of the legendary force user. An action which ended with Revan accepting death, but not before leaving the Jedi Knight Tabris his lightsaber and Nox his mask.

'Fuck,' he cursed as he pulled his mask, the very mask worn by Darth Revan and gifted to him upon the legend's defeat on Yavin 4, off his face. Running his hands over the surface of the ancient artifact, Nox felt for any damages or imperfections. Finding none, he set the mask aside and reached up to feel his face. He could feel blood coating the fingers of his gloves running freely from his nose. Carefully touching his broken nose, he channeled a light flow of energy into the cartilage, fixing it and stemming the tide of blood.

That taken care of, Nox righted himself in the cockpit of the fighter and began to run a system check. 'The battle,' he thought as he hammered his fist down on top of the ship's console as the display before him flickered on and off. 'I have to know if Darth Marr escaped. And Tabris too, I guess. She is good looking enough that I wouldn't mind…'converting' her.'

As the ship began running through its system check, he thought back on the past few hours. Or the past few that he could remember. Darth Marr's ship had been perched on the edge of known space, searching for the mysterious force that was stupidly attacking both the Republic and the Empire at the same time. He remembered Tabris and her ragtag group arriving on board…and then chaos. The enemy arrived and outnumbered them by dozens, maybe even a hundred to one in terms of ships alone. The battle, if it could even be called that, was a massacre.

Half their ships were destroyed in the first volley alone while the other half were left mostly disabled. And then the boarding parties came. Nox remembered fighting the new enemy that fought mostly with droids and a few force sensitive individuals. Not that it mattered to Nox either way. Force sensitive or droid, he cut them both down easily enough. After he'd killed each of the Force-sensitive individuals he took the time to collect their lightsabers and clip them onto his belt. He wasn't sure exactly why he'd done it, but something in the Force told him that they would be important in the future. He also collected the lightsabers from a few fallen Jedi and Sith that'd been serving aboard the ship as well.

After clearing out a few levels within the ship he'd almost managed to reach the access point to his ship. However, before he managed to get to his ship the destroyer took a massive hit to its broadside that collapse his path. With no other option, Nox made his way to the hangar bay and managed to commandeer a long-range fighter. But just as he was about to enter the battle, Darth Marr came over the com and told him to flee and warn the Empire about the new threat.

Seeing that further battle was pointless, Nox agreed and turned his ship and was about to make the jump to Dromund Kaas when his ship was hit. The last thing he remembered was his ship spiraling off course and then unmistakable lunge into hyperspace. And now…now here he was. Wherever 'here' was.

Hearing a low beeping coming from his console, Nox flicked through the diagnostics, his mood dampening with each line he read. Fuel: 0.5%. Hyperdrive engine: offline. Primary sub-light engines: offline. Secondary sub-light engines: operational. Positioning thrusters: online. Oxygen levels: 10%. Primary weapons: offline. Secondary weapons: offline. Navigational computer: offline. Long-range scanner: offline. Short range scanner: online.

'Well…that's just fucking wonderful,' Nox cursed internally, not wanting to speak in an effort to conserve what little oxygen he had left. 'Even if I could figure out where the fuck I am…Unlikely as the navigation computer is shot and I have no idea just what trajectory I entered hyperspace at…or for how long I was even in hyperspace to begin with! I doubt I'll survive long enough for a ship to just pass me by and pick me up. Fuck…Of all the ways that I thought I'd bite it…floating in an unknown region of space and slowly dying of suffocation…starvation or dehydration was certainly not in the top ten.'

Leaning back in his seat, Nox was just about to turn off the display to conserve power when he felt it. A slight disturbance in the Force. A feeling of…darkness. One he hadn't felt since he'd last stepped foot on Korriban. Closing his eyes, he reached out through the Force and felt for the disturbance. There…just off to this starboard side was a planet. A garden planet if his senses told him anything. A garden world touched heavily in the dark side of the Force. Yet, at the same time…there was a light sided touch as well. Fainter than the dark side…but still there. But, more importantly, he could sense life on the planet: intelligent life.

Coming out of his trance, he immediately booted up the short-range scanner. 'It's not far. I should have just enough fuel if I make sporadic bursts from the sub-light engine.' He thought as he read the scanner results of the planet. 'Definitely a garden world. No satellites or ships in orbit. Pollution and radiation levels seem to place the world as pre-industrialized. Wonderful…Thanks a lot, Force. You raise my hopes of salvation…only to dash them in the next instant. Still, if it's a choice between dying up here in this ship in the middle of empty space, or to live out the rest of my life on a garden world…there really isn't a choice there. And who knows…perhaps if they're not so developed yet that I can turn this situation to my advantage. Although, just getting there will be only half the battle. I'm then going to have to land this bucket of bolts with no navigation, next to no fuel, and with only positioning thrusters to try and arrest my descent. This definitely isn't going to be one of my better landings.'

Manually inputting his commands, Nox used the positioning thrusters to turn his ship in the direction of the garden world before setting off towards his new, and perhaps last, home.

283AC Wolfswood, The North

Panting heavily with his back against a tree, six-name-day Jon Snow, bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, tried desperately to catch his breath while his eyes darted nervously around the dense forest surrounding him. The cold air of the north turning his breath to mist as he breathed. For not the first time that day, he cursed his luck for having caught sight of the falling star that fell into the Wolfswood a week past. 'I should've just listened to Maester Luwin…or father.' Jon thought as he greedily gasped air into his body. 'There has only been one instance of a star falling to the ground. I must have just been seeing things in the night.'

But regardless of the doubts expressed by his father, the Maester…or even his own brother Robb, Jon couldn't shake the thought of being the one to find the fallen star. If he could, maybe he could bring it back to Winterfell. And then Mikken would've been able to forge a new blade for House Stark that could rival Dawn! And then…maybe, just maybe, he would be granted the Stark name. And it was with those thoughts in mind that Jon set off in the middle of the night while everyone was asleep to find the star.

That was four days ago. Two days ago, he'd run out of food. And yesterday he'd run out of water. On top of that, he was completely and utterly lost! Nan had told him and Robb both tales of children wandering into the dense forest only never to be seen again, but he hadn't believed her. Not really. But now…he truly did believe the tales. The trees were so tall and thick that even though it was bright out, he couldn't see the sun! And because of that, he couldn't tell east from west, or even north from south at this point. But being lost, hungry and thirsty weren't the worst of his troubles. No…. the worst had occurred just this morning when he stumbled across the dying embers of a fire, only to find he wasn't the only one in the woods.

"There he is!"

"Get him!"

"I call his legs! The best meat is on the legs! Even if he is a little shit!"

"Oh no," Jon wailed to himself as he forced himself off the tree and rushing further into the forest.

'Wildings,' Jon thought as he pushed himself harder than ever to keep his legs moving as fast as possible. 'Nan once told us that they like to eat people…at least she did until Lady Stark forbade her from speaking of such things to Robb…but I never…never thought she was telling the truth! Who would want to eat another person! It's…disgusting!'

"Here little shite! We got a nice little campfire set up just to cook you! I know just how long to keep ya on the fire for to make sure you be done just right! Stop running…and we might just kill ya first, before we cook ya!"

'They're getting closer!' Jon thought desperately as he urged his legs to move faster. 'I…I need to get away! But…where do I go? I have no idea where I am! I need to hide! Maybe if I hide, they'll pass me by, and I can—'

A sharp pain in his leg ended his thoughts as he stumbled forward falling headfirst to the ground as his left leg refused to move. Pushing his hands under him, Jon turned and looked down his body. His eyes widened as he spied fletching and a shaft sticking out from the back of his calf. 'I…I didn't…When did they…?'

His questions were cut off as the Wildlings came into sight no more than a few paces behind him. Each wearing a mismatched of animal pelts to keep them warm. Their faces and hands almost black from the dirt covering them and their hair wild and unkempt. And each were carrying a weapon of some sort. The largest of the group smirked as he approached Jon, his sword idly waving back and forth in front of him as he approached. His yellow crooked teeth on full display as he smiled down at Jon in much the same way that his si-Sansa stared at sweets. 'Gods…They really do mean to eat me!'

"Well, well…little rabbit. That was a fun little hunt, eh? But now it ends…and our meal begins!"

Trying to get back to his feet, Jon instantly cried out and collapsed as he tried to stand on his left leg.

"Ya, that ain't gonna work, little rabbit," the big wildling laughed. "Ida here be a hello'a shot. And she put that arrow in ya. Doubt ye be runnin again any time soon. Not that ya'll get the chance too."

Rolling over onto his back, Jon reached down and pulled out the small knife that his father had gifted him for his fifth name day. The blade wasn't long…barely the length of his fingers…but it was all he had. "Stay back!"

Instead of being intimidated, the Wildlings instead laughed. "Be careful, Kor." A woman wilding with a bow, Ida he thought, laughed. "The little rabbit still has some teeth!"

The big wildling with crooked yellow teeth smirked even wider as he stabbed his sword point first into the cold ground. "Nice little knife ya got, little rabbit." The man laughed as he reached out towards Jon. "Maybe I'll use it pick you from my teeth when I'm – fuck!"

Jon had waited until the wildling was in arm's reach, just like his father had taught himself and Robb, before stabbing forth with the knife, burying it to the handle in the wildlings outstretched arm. "Fuck!" The wildling screamed, stepping back and yanking the knife out of both Jon's hand and his own arm. "Fuckin…fuck!"

Jon tried to run; he really did. But the moment he tried to stand, his left reminded him that he still had an arrow in his leg and he abruptly fell face first back onto the ground. And before he could get up again, a pair of rough hands had him by the neck and were lifting him off the ground. The wildling with crooked teeth was holding him clear off the ground so that his feet here left dangling helplessly in the air.

"That wasn't fuckin smart, little rabbit," the wildling growled, his grip on Jon's neck tightening to the point where Jon was having trouble breathing. "I was gonna make this quick. But now…now I'm gonna cook you…one limb at a time and make you watch as I feast on your flesh!"