Crystal Souls (Darth Vulkan)

[Voices of The Deep]

Silence.

Unbroken, an interminable veil, without any fathomable beginning or any palpable end, a looping circle, a snake eating its own tail.

The hush sound of isolation cushioned out all other noise; all the screams and siren wails of despairing, hungry souls, all the graceless bone-snap sounds of bodies crawling through ugly spaces on their bellies like worms, all the hate and violence. Here, in the far reaches of the voids sprawling tendrils, there was nothing and there was no one. Nothing breathed, nothing sentient, nothing beyond the sluggish and imperceptible in-out heave of gloomy planets, nothing beyond the sometimes hiss of engines stirred by some impossible wind. The consuming lunatic hum of nihilism burrowed deep, its fevered cathedral ambience swallowing all it touched upon; drawn down deep into the ruddy, dark soul; etched in runic spires to the very roots of the black leather hide of squatting trees ugly with the weight of bloated death.

Wait.

Eyes narrowed...icy optics wandered as the queens ship landed on the surface Concordia.

A wave of crashing sound descended upon this calm garden of Eris, so calmly hideous, and it rushed across the black light and made it writhe and dance; a shroud of birds peeled away from the canopy with raucous caws of protest, sailing oily into the sun or sinking to glide through tangled branches as their dark paradise was reborn into something chaotic. Echoes of crashing and breaking and running, messy and scrambled, followed this upheaval on tattered wings, and closer to the epicenter the heavy, forced exhale of hard and sweaty breathing could be heard expelled from the depths of lolling jaws that snapped ceaselessly with some static energy, some frantic lust. And the queen whose face it belonged to? He scrabbled restlessly at the hard packed soil, never going far because tangles of vines and the sharp bite of their thorns kept snaring, kept snagging him, kept delaying him as if hoping that, by slowing him down, Satan's lapdog would come thundering after with its razor teeth and destroy the squirming, breathing, escaping victim who was lost anyways and didn't quite know where the exit sign was located.

Not that Winter could see anything very clearly anyways, her vision a painful blur of color and pain, spattered with flickering facets of black versus white and stinging with dust and other shrapnel, the other a useless heap beneath the side of his face buried by a waterfall of dark black-red that smeared its sickly sweet pallor down, down across her jaw and neck and chest; with sundered nerve endings that twitched and screamed white hot agony every now and again.


Still...she was here to do something...here to 'help'. She had recently come into contact with a man known as Vulkan...a brute who possessed great power...power Winter needed if she were to attain what she desired. The Queen had contacted him days before she arrived...explained to him what it was she was trying to do...and to her surprise he agreed to see her. To assist...something Winter had not expected after the results of their previous engagement. She knew that many remained salty when their pride was hurt...it pleased her to know this man was a man and able to accept defeat. A trait Winter respected...


And as the hatch to her ship opened, Winter stepped out of the shuttle and onto the surface of the planet...inhaling the dirty air before narrowing her gaze forward...


It was here...she would wait for her quarry.


[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Concordia, Kranak

The Mountain Fortress was buried within a fairly large trio of mountains, weapon batteries facing the skies, a chasm separating the mountains from the plains and forests below. Lava spilled from rifts and furrows on the mountain into the chasm below, a faint light rising from the depths, kilometers below the surface. Massive beskar plated doors were kept open, a symbol that the land was safe as the fortress kept its gates unbarred. Defensive emplacements were easily seen from the small settlement that sat on the opposite edge of the chasm where visitors ships landed. The faint aura of a theater shield reactivating could be seen in the sky by those with keen senses. Winter would be met by a single warrior, clad in beskar plate, to lead her to the Dragon of Mandalore.

Inside the fortress, the great hall stood three stories tall, shielded and metal plated guard rails on the pair of balconies, the obvious places for support weaponry to be attached to the railings easily notable, places in the floor slightly different where barriers could be raised or defensive turrets could rise out of the floor. The few corridors that turned off the great hall had partially closed turadium plated doors. Skulls of trophies taken hung from hooks on columns and pillars, above on the ceiling chandeliers of antlers and horns hung, offering dim light throughout the hall along with the lights on the walls. Warriors milled about the hall in small numbers, each of them beskar clad, carrying beskads and pistols on their belts. Some of them turned to notice the white haired woman, most didn't bother.

A Dark presence hung in the air as she was led off one of the connecting corridors, spiraling down deeper into the mountain. As they spiraled deeper the air grew warmer, the prescence thickening until she was brought to a chamber where Darth Vulkan sat in a simple wroshyr wood chair, a wooden double door off to the side besides the one she entered through. The Black Dragon sat in simple gear, a leather blacksmiths apron worn over simple clothes. "Winter." His voice cold and raspy, "Tell me why you have come."

[member="Queen Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

The icy gaze of the Queen wandered for a moment before her presence was met by another...the woman lifting her cold optics towards a large man dressed in heavy beskar plating...the ice that ran through her veins seemed to become that much colder when the stranger began to escort her towards her desired target...what a shame the man could not met The Queen himself...no matter, not everyone was as upfront as Winter was...and in the end that was the one trait that would most likely keep him alive far longer than Winter herself...The Queens boldness would inevitably lead to her downfall.


But she was not here to reflect upon her many flaws...she had an objective and at the moment she sought to complete it...besides, the more time she wasted the less time she would be able to spend with her offspring...lately they had been going through personal issues and as their mother she felt obligated to...assist. Raising three girls was never easy...especially when all three twins were opposites of one another. Which became little more but a nuisance in the end...still, they were her girls. And she...had a deep 'affection' for them.

Or was it love?

Winter could never distinguish between such words...she had never felt love before. Though the day her babies were born she did feel...something. It was odd...and she had yet to experience it again after that day so she simply dismissed it as a phase. Some form of maternal instinct she had learned to suppress.


And as she was guided into the marvelous home of The Dragon of Mondolore, Winter found herself admiring his taste...it reminded her of Hati. And as she was brought before the man who sat in his wooden throne Winter felt her gaze land upon his as he asked her why she had come...Winter tilted her head and gave a brief nod...respecting she was in his household.

"Draco...I've come to ask a favor." She began, her cold eyes remaining steady on his own. "You are a talented alchemist i hear...and a master or forging. And it is your skill that i desire because of the lack of my own. I request assistance in the forging of a blade...and you are the only one i know capable of such a feat."

She remained straightforward and to the point...no need to waste his or her time. Diligence was after all her most recognized virtue.


[member="Draco Vereen"]