Studying Darkness.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob wanders in carrying Delirion's body on his back. He takes the injured and helpless Dark Jedi and carries her into his crystal cavern.

He gazes around and smiles. Here will be the perfect place to begin.

The dwarf sets Delirion down on the floor and concentrates on projecting the hypnotic glow of the crystals into Delirion's mind. If he can soothe her mind into complacency, he can begin his work.

[Delirion]

Screaming. Something was screaming. Roaring at her. Loud noise.

Different.

HE. HE was gone.

Was she dead then? This had to be death. Strange - it did not feel like death. Death didn't feel like that - death wasn't supposed to hurt this much, was it?

There was something crawling beneath her skin, drawing it apart, pulliing at it. Needles? Knives? She didn't know.

Cold water. Someone was throwing cold water. No? Maybe not. Wrong sense. Felt like that for a brief moment.

PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN.

Wasn't the same. Not her alone. The book. Book of Anger. Giving pain. Who else beside her?

Delirion's eyes snapped open for a moment, to fix an off-kilter stare at Hob bending over her. She sighed, then closed her eyes again.

Him. But why fish?

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Delirion was awash with mental turmoil. The sensations of relief and pain, of fear and despair all fought each other for supremacy. Hob could feel the texture of her thoughts subsiding from distinct alertness and recognition of something missing to a curious jumbled pattern.

Hob leaned close, allowing his need for the Empty Hood to be felt and hoping Delirion would mistake his need for her own.. ~ The Empty Hood, Delirion,~ he whispered. ~ 'tis important that ye give Hob the Empty Hood, that he may restore ye.~

[Delirion]

Something was different, and through the confusion of her mind, she began to accept it. And as she accepted it, the chaos grew smaller, clearer. She was able to think separate thoughts. But then something else put itself in the way.

Empty Hood.

What was it? What was the Empty Hood? Why?

Why did she want it?

She registered confusion. Her own confusion. Something wasn't right. She didn't know what she wanted, didn't know this thing. How could she want what she didn't know?

No, she didn't want it. He wanted it. No - not Him. Hob wanted it.

She wanted something else than that. Wanted the pain to stop. So she could think again. Think without Him. He was gone - she would be without him.

That thought was the one she hung onto to gain control over herself again. She felt exhilarated. He was gone from her, finally. Out of her mind. And some of the pain was gone now - as she had accepted the confusion of her mind as nothing but the aftermath of a mind suddenly cut away; cut away from the seemingly endless oppression of the Other's will.

Now she could feel again, and sense; and she sensed another one's will forcing itself upon her. Hob.

What is this thing you seek, brother? And why do you seek to gain it from me?

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob projected an image of the Hood into Delirion's mind, so she would know what Hob spoke of. ~ I seek t' undergo the Ceremony of the Blasted. The Empty Hood is part of that, and ye've previously held the Book of Anger. Ye must have the Hood.~

[Delirion]

She was beginning to feel anger rising inside her, anger much stronger than the pain that filled her body. Hob seemed intent on this matter - yet intent enough to seek to gain complete control over her?

She wasn't going to let it come to that.

Yet what choice do I have now? I am in his hands, and at the mercy of my own sick body - there is no choice.

Slowly, she opened her eyes - the first fully-conscious action she made. Looking at the goblin's diminutive stature, she decided to forego their mental link, and talk to him directly. Even if it were painful, she did not want to meet him on the grounds he had set.

Slowly, she forced herself to speak the words,

"Th-the cere...mony of the b-blasted? What is...this c-ceremony y-you speak... of?"

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob snarled and reached out with one of his huge hands to grip Delirion's throat. He lifted her limp form easily into the air and for one of the few times that happened, he spoke in his normal voice of deep bass. "You have read the Book, yes? Yes. You know. You know what it is. Yessss, yes. How can you not know of the Ceremony?"

[Delirion]

The pressure on her throat brought her focus back onto the pain she felt. Fighting it seemed inpossible; instead, she gave in to it, let it wash over here. In her mind, she focused on it, on the crystal-sharp acuteness of the agony inside her.

She forced herself to keep her face calm; she carefully modulated her voice not to give away her emotions, as she stalled for time to regain full control over her body.

"Th-the book? Yeeees.... I read it. Yet I c-cannot remember... this c-ceremony you s-speak of... tell me... what is it? M-maybe then I w-will be able to b-be of ... more assistance to you."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob's lips curled backwards, baring his teeth. "The Ceremony of the Blasted, yes. It is a ceremony, where one's stamina is pushed by the Dark Side. If, upon the Altar, one who wears the Empty Hood survives, the Empty Hood shall be filled with the Darkness and the knowledge of its ways. I will undergo, yes, and I will survive, yes. Yesss. Yes."

The grip tightened once again. "Tell me what you know."

[Delirion]

It was coming back to her now - not only the control over her numbed body, but also the knowledge of what the Goblin was looking for. The Ceremony of the Blasted was something the book had not deemed necessary for its "education" of her, therefore she had only heard of it when knowledge of it had been needed to instruct her in other matters. The Book had its own mind upon these things, it seemed, for Hob to be so obsessed about the Ceremony.

Her knowledge and memory of the Ceremony's description made her aware again of the pain she felt herself, inside her. Still weak, she forced herself to touch the wound in her side, probing with cold fingers in the flesh and bloody gore of her insides. Revulsion at her own wounds overcame her as she felt the extent of her injury - how foolish had she been to allow Ogre to do this to her?

Her mind was screaming from the effort it took her to force back all the pain, and yet allow her the control over her body she had now. What her body needed most was to be treated with bacta - yet instead her foolish brother kept her here, questioning her upon things that should not even matter.

The anger inside her increased, but she told him what he wanted to know - if only to get out of here.

What I know of the Ceremony of the Blasted? That it is an old and useless ritual - for those of us who are too weak and too foolish to learn of the Darkness by their years of training and experience. It is the easy path, and yet the Tested does not perceive it thus - for without knowledge of the Darkness, or a certain level of proficiency, the Ceremony will truly take the Tested to his very own limits, and beyond them. And this "Empty Hood" you are so anxious to find - it will not keep the Tested in this world, if his power does not suffice; it is but an empty vessel until the last.

She eyed him, forcing a sneer upon her lips, and said aloud,

"And you truly ...b-believe you are not amongst the foolish and weak, th-that you attempt the Ceremony? To think so, b-betrays how foolish you ...truly are - for I know that the r-requirements ...demand you will fail."

Closing her eyes, she went still, and let him feel how triumphant she felt over him, even as she lay here now. Triumphant, for she knew what the requirements were, and how to cheat them. Triumphant, for now she had an extra card to play against him, for her own survival - and she had a plan. And so she left him out, closed the mental link to him, walled in her own mind, that he may not penetrate her thoughts and simply grab the knowledge from her as he might be tempted to do. Then she spoke again,

"To withstand the Ceremony, ...you shall need a guide. That is an ...unspoken rule that the book will not t-teach you until you have ...already learned this truth yourself. Here I give it to you, out of ...pity for you, that you may go and survive for a short while longer th-than you would have without this knowledge. Th-there is... more I could tell you, as your guide... but I need to be stronger and healthy again... t-to be that."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

" SILENCE!"

Hob drew his arm back and hurled Delirion to the ground.

"A guide." Every inch of his words was filled with disgust and disdain. "I do not need a guide."

Hob jabbed a filthy finger in Delirion's face. "You lie. I feel it in your thoughts and your words, yes. As though you had the attention span and clarity of thought to ever prevail over me."

Hob reached down with a massive hand and lifted Delirion again, slinging her over his shoulder as though he were carrying a rag doll. "I will not accept any more lies, sister. Yes. You will heal, yes. And by the time you finish your healing, Hob will have finished the Ceremony. All will see what Hob can do. Yesssss..."

He snorted as he began to walk. "Pity. It is I who should pity you, in love with a zombie and so brashly stupid to face the Large One in combat. You have paid, and will continue to pay, for your thoughtless bravado. Yes. Yessss."

[Delirion]

The impact with the floor made the pain of her wounds flare up once more. She gritted her teeth against it, and did not allow him to sene or see the agony she felt now.

No, she could not appear weaker now. He had turned her offer down, turned it down for all that she had tried, for once, to be helpful, to warn him of the danger he would be in.

It had seemed to her that the Ceremony of the Blasted was nothing more but a lazy way to forego serious training, for those who were too impatient to wait; but one needed certain powers for it already, and she had not witnessed her brother to have them.

He was dooming himself, and she knew it - but her warning was not heeded, her assistance not wanted. There was nothing more to say - he would realise his mistake when it would already be too late.

She stayed silent, and quieted her mind, diverting all the anger and fear she felt now at and for him, into keeping the pain from truly affecting her.

He lifted her up again and carried her away - she did not know where, nor did she have the strength to fight him now. Silently, she resolved herself for whatever was to come next.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob sped down Bast's corridors, heading to Deception's Study. As he traveled, he fumed.

How dare this wretch try to lie to him? How DARE she?

It was because he was small, wasn't it? Small, and disfigured- a worthlessnobodynothing that she was trying to spare the effort of the Ceremony. Trying to save him. Trying to spare him.

BAH! Hob would show her, and would show them all. He had kicked and clawed and scratched his way to where he was now. Nothing had made anything easier for Hob then- except the Book of Anger, of course, but that was different- and it appeared nothing would now.

Hob would not allow them to think he was weak, would not allow himself to be weak by giving into their misgivings. Hob was greater than they knew, greater than anybody knew.

He was Hobgoblin.

He would prove them all wrong.

Hob reached the door to Deception's Study. ~ Open it,~ he told Delirion. ~ Or else I shall leave you upon Deception's doorstep to rot.~

[Delirion]

As he carried her along, the pain returned. With every movement, a thousand needles seemed to punch through her guts - she gave up trying to fight against it; it was too much to waste her energy on.

She drifted in and out of consciousness as the Goblin carried her along the hallways, and she had little idea where he was bringing her.

Then his voice reached into her mind and spoke to her there. Deception's study? Why had he brought her here now? Jeseth was not here, nor would he have had the power to heal her.

Bacta.... the bacta-tank.... can heal...

Hob's inability to open the door made her realise that Jeseth had not given him access. Somehow she doubted, however, that the otherwise so crafty Goblin should not have found his own way into Jeseth's study; he seemed paranoid enough to hide this fact from anyone.

Weakly, she raised her head, and motioned for Hob to approach the small panel at the side of the door. The mechanics of the thing scanned her eyes, then she held her palm up against it. Finally, the door opened up.

There..... no r-reason to leave me outside....

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob stomped into the Study, still carrying Delirion like a sack of potatoes. And lumpy potatoes, at that.

He strode through the room to where he knew the bacta tank to be. It was odd that Jeseth was not there- after all, he had been there not thirty minutes previously when Hob had left his room to seek out Delirion.

Finally coming up upon the tank, Hob set Delirion down on the floor. He stepped over to the bacta tank and set his right hand on the shiny metal surface of the control panel. Energy slid from his hand and the device began to operate. The top slid open and the restraint clamps inside the tank also opened.

Hob then gestured with his left hand and Delirion's body floated upwards. It hovered over the tank, then slowly dipped itself into the bluish gel. Delirion's limp form settled into the clamps, which then activated themselves.

The eyes of his Dark sister opened briefly, and Hob waved at her in a slow, sweeping motion. He grinned broadly, then made one final sweep, casting Delirion's exhausted mind into a deep healing trance.

She would not awaken until it was too late to interrupt the Ceremony of the Blasted.

Hob scampered out of the room to go begin his preparations for the Ceremony.