Ignatius
A N A R C H Y
Drawn
Sheathed
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
[*]Primary Source: N/A
PRODUCTION INFORMATION
TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS
"I have one question to ask of you my dear."
"Anything"
"As children, there was a simple katana we used. The ivory colored grip, with a silver blade. Do you still have it?"
The smile confirmed all I needed. As she began to walk away, the other members of the group began to fuss and yell at me. From there, I returned.
"SHE CHALLENGED ME! SHE CLAIMED HER WEAPON! I HAVE NOT CLAIMED MINE!"
Silence fell across the room. So quickly in fact, it was almost deafening.
"Problems with this? You may challenge me next."
Nobody fessed up. In fact, for minutes on end this girl continued to scream as others stood by and watched as I began to tear at the clothing around her stomach. Showing off the black navel of the woman. During that time, Caleo returned. A rather ornate weapon in hand. I smiled ever so deeply as I reached out. Gingerly removing the prized weapon from the sheath. The blade shone brightly within the dimly lit room. Bringing the blade up, Almost saluting the woman with it, I could see the reflection of my face within the blade. Never in a million years would I think that I could have done this. However, I must.
I carefully moved over to the woman. Her screams now died down to barely a whisper of a fight left. She was accepting her fate. My hand placed carefully upon her shoulder as I closed the distance. Letting my mouth hover next to her ear. Whispering so only she could hear what I said.
"I do not pity you for the pain you are about to face."
Slowly, she looked down. Watching as the blade I held in my hands began to heat up. The bright white silver giving way to a deep black, molding to a red and yellow into a white hot glow. The air around the blade wispping as the air around it heated to tremendous levels. Eagerly I set the tip of the blade at the bottom of her belly-button. With a single, long drawn out thrust, pushing the blade up through her abdomen, and into the chest through the diaphragm, and into the lungs. The blade burned white hot even from within the body of the dying zabrak. Her screams erupted once more and quickly died out as the blade melted and cooked her insides.
As I held the blade into the woman, I breathed out the language of the Sith. Enchanting the blade from which her blood will birth.
Sheathed
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
- Intent: Create a Katana for Ignis
- Image Source: Artstation - Nathan Elhanann
- Canon Link:
Force-Imbued Blade - Silver Lined Sword
- A Union of the Dark - Thread
[*]Primary Source: N/A
PRODUCTION INFORMATION
- Manufacturer: Ignis and Caleo Imura
- Affiliation: Ignis Imura
- Model: Corona - Named after the bright shining ring set behind an Eclipse
- Modularity: No
Production: Unique
- Material:
Silver - Zal Alloy Fittings
- Kaiburr Crystal Shards
- Sapith Crystal Shards
- Barab Ingot Shards
- Mono-molecular Edge
- Zabrak Bone
TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS
- Classification: Katana
- Size: Average
- Weight: Heavy
- Force Imbued
- Kaiburr Crystal effects
- Shines brightly when wielded by a Force User.
- Progressively shines brighter when held by more powerful force users.
- All Nine Yards: As with any Force Imbued sword, The weapon is attuned to the force. Thus becoming unnaturally sharp, extremely durable, and with the ability to destroy entities of the force. More over, the wielder can channel the force through the weapon as a conduit more easily than other weapons.
- Brightly Shining: Much like it's namesake, the weapon is forged out of Silver that has been impregnated with various crystals. Most notable of the crystals is the Kaiburr. With the Shards imbued within the blade, the sword can amplify force powers that the wielder uses by ten fold. More over, healing based effects are more effective when wielding the blade.
- A blade of Beauty: Many swordsmen want a simple sword. However due to the nature of the Kaiburr Crystal, as well as the Barab Ingots that have been impregnated into the silver, when held by a force user, the weapon glows brightly. Much akin to a Lightsaber. However, a side effect of this, is that the glow will slightly change hue depending upon the person grabbing it. Holding the blade, is just as useful as a light source, as a Lightsaber would be.
- All because of Lizards: Ysalamir can take all of that away. Force nullification can dampen, and even temperately removed the desired effects and strengths of this weapon to be no more than a mere Katana. Where as a Sith sword can still retain some of its properties, A force Imbued blade will barely become anything more than your standard blade.
- Price of Power: One of the notable draw backs of wielding the sword while using the force, is the jolt of energy one would feel. While this jolt of energy will send a buzz of electricity running up your arm(s) when wielding this weapon. While for short periods of time it can be manageable, longer time spent holding the weapon will cause the person nerve damage, potential spasms, Loss of feeling in the hands and arms, with worst case scenarios being permanent loss of feeling, Brain and spinal damage, Nervous system damage, and even the weakening of the immune system.
- Shift of Power: When using the sword, the surge of energy can be very much akin to a High. The power can be addictive to those who wield the blade, and thus can cause them to use the sword more often. However, when one does not use the sword, they will find themselves in a "down time" or a "Hang over" state. Where for a short period after not using the weapon, their powers within the force will wane, or even be reduced dramatically in a case where a Master Level force users, might only be able to perform feats comparable to an acolyte level.
"I have one question to ask of you my dear."
"Anything"
"As children, there was a simple katana we used. The ivory colored grip, with a silver blade. Do you still have it?"
The smile confirmed all I needed. As she began to walk away, the other members of the group began to fuss and yell at me. From there, I returned.
"SHE CHALLENGED ME! SHE CLAIMED HER WEAPON! I HAVE NOT CLAIMED MINE!"
Silence fell across the room. So quickly in fact, it was almost deafening.
"Problems with this? You may challenge me next."
Nobody fessed up. In fact, for minutes on end this girl continued to scream as others stood by and watched as I began to tear at the clothing around her stomach. Showing off the black navel of the woman. During that time, Caleo returned. A rather ornate weapon in hand. I smiled ever so deeply as I reached out. Gingerly removing the prized weapon from the sheath. The blade shone brightly within the dimly lit room. Bringing the blade up, Almost saluting the woman with it, I could see the reflection of my face within the blade. Never in a million years would I think that I could have done this. However, I must.
I carefully moved over to the woman. Her screams now died down to barely a whisper of a fight left. She was accepting her fate. My hand placed carefully upon her shoulder as I closed the distance. Letting my mouth hover next to her ear. Whispering so only she could hear what I said.
"I do not pity you for the pain you are about to face."
Slowly, she looked down. Watching as the blade I held in my hands began to heat up. The bright white silver giving way to a deep black, molding to a red and yellow into a white hot glow. The air around the blade wispping as the air around it heated to tremendous levels. Eagerly I set the tip of the blade at the bottom of her belly-button. With a single, long drawn out thrust, pushing the blade up through her abdomen, and into the chest through the diaphragm, and into the lungs. The blade burned white hot even from within the body of the dying zabrak. Her screams erupted once more and quickly died out as the blade melted and cooked her insides.
As I held the blade into the woman, I breathed out the language of the Sith. Enchanting the blade from which her blood will birth.
S̤̺̼̫͍̜̗͞á͍͉̤s͖̭͍ ̡̮̪͚͙̙͚r̹̻̮̩̞͓i̜̤̣̻͕̙ k̮̞̙̱̲͉̹ŕ̼̜̩a̬͖u̞̲j̡̫̯͚͈̞̯̖a͔̳͚s͎ ̬͖͙͚͕͎̮i̢w̪ ̳̳̻͈̗͚̟r̟͚̖͍i̲̦̻͇͔ ̭̦̘͜i̜s̟d̹͉͚̤̺̱̪͠a̩̳̪̖͎̰͡w̟̣i̧͚̗͍͍̜͓,̤
͈͙̭̪͖̱̰͜
͏̬t̼̝̞̮qi̦͉ ̨̺̱̪sḭ̖̩͕͖̣̮s͈̪͙ ̴̻̥͔aͅs̻͡m҉i̢̖̖͓͍̮̺n͈͞y͏̬̫̲͉͙̟s ͈̰̫̼͔͈n͎͕͎͓̯̫̹i̶̳̤͈̤̫ś̞͕̗̖͈͍͉o͍̖s҉̗̫͉̼̫͎̜û̖͖̙̱̙t̺̞̬̗i̝̼͝ ͉͔͇̞̤̠r̭̜i̠̳̻̣̰̗̻͞ ̫̮̺̥̣͕ͅk̖͇͓̲̣̟̤͘û͍̱͚͈̻ͅt͚̼͇s̫̤̼͈͎ ̵̝̞͖̪̳̜ͅi̬͚w̧ ̦w̵i̺͉̣̰̤̞s͍a ͙t̳̘s̮̦ͅi̺̼͓̰̬o̻̕â̠͍ ҉o̗̱̮͍̠͕̪i̩̠͚̙͇̱ ̥̱ţ̠͚̮͉̭̣u̝͖t̫̼̺̰̞̺i ̤͈̗̦̞̹͞dz͖̺͍a̠t̡̰w̙̻͇̣i͎̣̝̳ ̫̦͎̹̰͖̣w̗̹̦͔̯̤̮o̭̰̜͕s̵̙̬̳̳̻.̯
̨̬̹̝͕ͅ
̯̣̻ͅK͏̗̫͉̘͉̣i̶̳̞̬̥͇̳h͙̰a̪ ̸̙͇̦̘̩̬̩ț̝̦̬̰͡u̵͚̯̮'͏͍i͔̣͉̯͇̥y̨̯̲͖̮͉í͚̙͖̼à͓͈ ̘w̗͙̯̬̯͉͘i҉̜̳͎̳̹̠̪ṣ͟a͎̖̞̠̙͞ͅź̬̘͖͙̭̮̳ ҉͕i͈m͙͙͕̙̣̥̙͘ḳḭjs͙͓̫͙̖͍͕i͕͓͚̝ i̷̩̗̬͇͕n̜͚̱͎̙r͏̼ͅwi̝̣̦͍t͙͕̟í̯͉a̺̱͓ ̪̕ń̗͇̯i͇s̹̝̲͉͡o̷̫̠͖̙̬̦̱s̖̬͙͉͉̱û͎̞̗̬͎ͅt̥̝̬͚̫̖͘ị͔̭͓̳͖̯ ̮̫r̷̜͍i̼̬̥̣ ̛i͠r͏͖͕̭͚̰͇ͅo̜͈̮͢i̸̘̠̜͔͇̜̝ ͈̬́w͏̜̩̲͕͍̥i̵̥̝̖̹̥̬t̨̲a̯̫̲̩z͕̪̦̜̪͎͢i ͕i̶̠ẉ̩ ̗̗j̠̖͔͎̀s̱̗̥͚̖͇i̡̼n̡̬͙̫͙̪a̯͔͜.͔̰̠̮̤
͈̻̱
ͅS̫̠̞̺̯i͏̗ṣ̼̱̲͕̰ ̖ͅk͎͜r̵a̡̘̩̞̙u̼͇͖͘j̥͇͙͓̗̲̠a̪̩̩̦͇̙̼s,̥̹̗̺̻̞̹ ̲w̞̜͈̙̥̯ͅi̸̗̲͚̭̳̼ͅŗ̠͈̝̝m͔̮̲͍ś̳̭̹̥̖i̖̦̞z̬̠͍̩̞̠̼i͎̠ ̠̼s̫͉̜̞̞͈͙a͓̘̱s͕̖ ̼̺̲͜r̼̝͈̣͔̯̹i̪̬̤͈̩̹͟ ̯͖̯̹̝J̠i̞̙n̙̤͚̹̙'̻̫̰͙
̻
̝̙̟̥̜̱̣wa̵̗͕̥͍̞̣r͞i͍͍̦̭͎a͎͔̭̪̭ ͉̹̠͇͟i͏̩̘͕͈̣͓ri͈̩̦̙̦͈̪t̤̙̥͙̦̙s҉̩̗̗̻̱i͙̥͍̟̜̹m̵̲͙͉̜ͅͅi̖͟z҉̠̘̙ͅi͓͈̬͎͓̰̙̕ ͝m̻̥̞u͝s͉̻̰̻ ͎̞̦͠r̠̕i͚̮d͎͍̤̮͎̫̀as̪̪̦̰̦ͅi̤̤͈.̮̖̥͞
͈͙̭̪͖̱̰͜
͏̬t̼̝̞̮qi̦͉ ̨̺̱̪sḭ̖̩͕͖̣̮s͈̪͙ ̴̻̥͔aͅs̻͡m҉i̢̖̖͓͍̮̺n͈͞y͏̬̫̲͉͙̟s ͈̰̫̼͔͈n͎͕͎͓̯̫̹i̶̳̤͈̤̫ś̞͕̗̖͈͍͉o͍̖s҉̗̫͉̼̫͎̜û̖͖̙̱̙t̺̞̬̗i̝̼͝ ͉͔͇̞̤̠r̭̜i̠̳̻̣̰̗̻͞ ̫̮̺̥̣͕ͅk̖͇͓̲̣̟̤͘û͍̱͚͈̻ͅt͚̼͇s̫̤̼͈͎ ̵̝̞͖̪̳̜ͅi̬͚w̧ ̦w̵i̺͉̣̰̤̞s͍a ͙t̳̘s̮̦ͅi̺̼͓̰̬o̻̕â̠͍ ҉o̗̱̮͍̠͕̪i̩̠͚̙͇̱ ̥̱ţ̠͚̮͉̭̣u̝͖t̫̼̺̰̞̺i ̤͈̗̦̞̹͞dz͖̺͍a̠t̡̰w̙̻͇̣i͎̣̝̳ ̫̦͎̹̰͖̣w̗̹̦͔̯̤̮o̭̰̜͕s̵̙̬̳̳̻.̯
̨̬̹̝͕ͅ
̯̣̻ͅK͏̗̫͉̘͉̣i̶̳̞̬̥͇̳h͙̰a̪ ̸̙͇̦̘̩̬̩ț̝̦̬̰͡u̵͚̯̮'͏͍i͔̣͉̯͇̥y̨̯̲͖̮͉í͚̙͖̼à͓͈ ̘w̗͙̯̬̯͉͘i҉̜̳͎̳̹̠̪ṣ͟a͎̖̞̠̙͞ͅź̬̘͖͙̭̮̳ ҉͕i͈m͙͙͕̙̣̥̙͘ḳḭjs͙͓̫͙̖͍͕i͕͓͚̝ i̷̩̗̬͇͕n̜͚̱͎̙r͏̼ͅwi̝̣̦͍t͙͕̟í̯͉a̺̱͓ ̪̕ń̗͇̯i͇s̹̝̲͉͡o̷̫̠͖̙̬̦̱s̖̬͙͉͉̱û͎̞̗̬͎ͅt̥̝̬͚̫̖͘ị͔̭͓̳͖̯ ̮̫r̷̜͍i̼̬̥̣ ̛i͠r͏͖͕̭͚̰͇ͅo̜͈̮͢i̸̘̠̜͔͇̜̝ ͈̬́w͏̜̩̲͕͍̥i̵̥̝̖̹̥̬t̨̲a̯̫̲̩z͕̪̦̜̪͎͢i ͕i̶̠ẉ̩ ̗̗j̠̖͔͎̀s̱̗̥͚̖͇i̡̼n̡̬͙̫͙̪a̯͔͜.͔̰̠̮̤
͈̻̱
ͅS̫̠̞̺̯i͏̗ṣ̼̱̲͕̰ ̖ͅk͎͜r̵a̡̘̩̞̙u̼͇͖͘j̥͇͙͓̗̲̠a̪̩̩̦͇̙̼s,̥̹̗̺̻̞̹ ̲w̞̜͈̙̥̯ͅi̸̗̲͚̭̳̼ͅŗ̠͈̝̝m͔̮̲͍ś̳̭̹̥̖i̖̦̞z̬̠͍̩̞̠̼i͎̠ ̠̼s̫͉̜̞̞͈͙a͓̘̱s͕̖ ̼̺̲͜r̼̝͈̣͔̯̹i̪̬̤͈̩̹͟ ̯͖̯̹̝J̠i̞̙n̙̤͚̹̙'̻̫̰͙
̻
̝̙̟̥̜̱̣wa̵̗͕̥͍̞̣r͞i͍͍̦̭͎a͎͔̭̪̭ ͉̹̠͇͟i͏̩̘͕͈̣͓ri͈̩̦̙̦͈̪t̤̙̥͙̦̙s҉̩̗̗̻̱i͙̥͍̟̜̹m̵̲͙͉̜ͅͅi̖͟z҉̠̘̙ͅi͓͈̬͎͓̰̙̕ ͝m̻̥̞u͝s͉̻̰̻ ͎̞̦͠r̠̕i͚̮d͎͍̤̮͎̫̀as̪̪̦̰̦ͅi̤̤͈.̮̖̥͞
By the blood of the betrayer, shall this blade bring the death of all those it is drawn upon. May your ever dying breath bring the first gasp of steel. This blood, sanctified by the Dark, will set us free.
