Populate Darth Dance Revolution [SO Populate of Kirdo III]

[Aiwaz Khath]

​

He was queasy at the thought of this exhibition the Pretenders had organised. The very thought that those who colonised his own kin would then proceed to appropriate his very own traditions to ensure a new generation of the exact same behaviour made Aiwaz sick to his stomach. As he journeyed to the sublime mountainscapes that held the highly anticipated Academy gathering, he considered turning back more than once. The only thing that drew him to the event in the first place was an invitation from Karala Midwan ; the fellow Pureblood whom Aiwaz had worked with closely during the Ozzuk Trials, and had grown immensely fond of in just those few days.

He had to give it to the so-called King and his lackeys; they did know how to throw a good party. The lights were spectacular indeed, hypnotising and ethereal as they bounced off the stone and refracted through ice. The bass seemed to shake the very mountains themselves, and even as he trekked into the open space that held the main event, it penetrated through every pore of his body. It was strangely comforting, and he nodded his head stoically to the beat.

But what made the event frustrating was the herd of untamed beasts who called themselves Sith, crudely mimicking the beautiful movements of his people's most sublime acts of ritual dance. He winced at the sight of them as he stood at a safe distance, arms crossed. These people know nothing of our ways, how utterly dare they, he thought to himself in his own tongue. At least, he could see, another of his kin he had yet to meet giving them all a considerable hard time for their crudeness. It was enough to make him smirk with a degree of satisfaction, and it was nice to know he was no alone.

But Karala he could not see amidst the crowds, as he scanned the area awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place all of a sudden. His eyes glanced above to the night sky, where the artificial lights blended into those of the silver stars beyond. It was quite a lovely sight, he had to admit.

 

[Karala Midwan]

It was as she was conversing with The Iron Rib Lord that she felt it, a presence she knew well from Ozzuk. Her heart began to flutter, and she got a little dizzy, as she drew back behind veil of faces for a moment to regain her composure. Looking through the mingling crowd she saw Him, Aiwaz Khath , he had come! She felt herself shift in her step, she began to wave her ruby hand and fingers as fan over her face, when they were out in the cold. There was no mistake how he made her feel, and yet she had not let him know yet these feelings. Part of the reason was fear, a bedrock of the dark side, or so the Jedi claimed, so its merit as doctrine was rather dubious. Still, she would allow things to develop organically, they were some of few Purebloods left in the galaxy, reason dictated that they should pair bond. But they were not animals, they were Tsis, they were a esteemed race that once populated this world with a Golden Age.

Summoning her inner strength, she decided to return to where the Iron Lord was and now Aiwaz, she approaching as she wiped her brow, came to her friend from Ozzuk and said,
"Aiwaz! You came! It is so good to see you here!"
She hoped her elation was approperiate, not too cringe. She found herself second guessing herself, wanting to make a good impression. In the Arena there was threats, life and death, and that was where Tsis shined, it was easier to maintain a sense of control and behave accordingly. A social event was an entirely different affair. She should know how to do this better, though she had nine centuries between the last gathering she had attended and this. So surly she could be a little rusty.

 

[Akhuul Sautra]

Primary Tags: Karala Midwan Aiwaz Khath
Acknowledgement Tags: Revna Kaila Irons Eira Dyn Madrona A’Mia Domina Prime Lucette Micah tol Powl Naamino Zuukamano
Location: Cave in the Korriban Mountains
Objective: 1 - Darth Dance Revolution
Equipment: In Bio
Music:

Spoiler: HERE

The scene continued as it seemed my one correction started spreading among the others. The imitators that claimed my people's heritage continued on with their dance, yet more seemed to have done it more properly among them. Others seemed to just let their feelings dictate their motion. Such was not out of place for Sith, yet is by no means like that of my people's golden age. It mattered not. Soon, those who claimed my people's name will learn.

I then felt a sensation. It resonated in my soul, with a slight glow from my chassis intensifying. It seemed something effected the woman of my kind that stood before me. There was a heightened heart rate seen by my sensors. Before I could make a proper introduction, after gladly hearing the language of my people said even in the old dialect, she then ran off into the crowd.
Before I could be enraged by such insolence towards one's elder among my own kind she then would return with another descendant of my people. Not a proclaimed one, a true one. A sire of Korriban in full. My rage-filled spite subsided at such a sight.

An emulation of a pleasant laugh left my vocabulator. "It pleases me to see that you speak our tongue, yet also bring another member of my people." A sight of members of my own kind was truly gladdening. My people have not been erased after all. "I trust you also know the tongue of the people who's blood flows through your veins?", I said to the younger man. Looking at him almost reminded me of myself in ages past as I went through the ancient rites. "I have been going by 'Darth Cryptis' among those who claim the inheritance of our kind. To you, I extend the courtesy of introducing myself as Lord Akhuul Sautra.", I would say with a slight tipping of my head and an open gesture with my clawed steel hand. "How may I call the sires of my people that stand before me?"

 

[Aiwaz Khath]

A warmth washed over Aiwaz as Karala picked him out from the crowd, a warmth he had not felt since Ozzuk. Karala's presence seemed to instil something in him he seldom felt, and seeing her again after days apart since Ozzuk had suddenly awoken such a realisation in him. Blood made his red face miraculously redder than usual, but he was one to adhere to the old ways of the Sith, and bowed graciously in greeting as taught by his grandsire, as archaic as it may have appeared.
"My lady Karala, the deathly cold of this mountain is nothing to the warmth you bring."
Too much? Yikes. His inner voice chastised him and he cringed at himself. The moment melted away and he found himself sharing a soft smile with her. "I'm glad to see you again." He meant it, and could see the feeling was clearly mutual.

A great hulking machination then came to them. On the surface, it was a truly terrifying metal beast, but he could sense something different about it. Deep within there, somewhere, he could feel the aura of his own. He bowed to the new visitor.
"Lord Sautra," he greeted, then proceeded to speak in the Sith tongue. "In fact, the Old Tongue is my first. This is Karala of House Midwan. I am Aiwaz of Clan Khath. It's a pleasure to meet you." Switching back to Common, he continued. "What brings you to this farce of the Pretenders? Does it not make you sick?" He couldn't help himself.



TAG: Karala Midwan Akhuul Sautra

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

KORRIBOOGIE

TAG: OPEN

The Lord of Life looking down the slopes, some intrepid guests were sleading and using other means to use the powder to sail. So many of them were giddy with the joy of it, and Hemorpheus felt nothing. Nothing save the sorrow within. Everything he had endeavored to build was gone.. his lab and the mysteries were confiscated, his research he had fortunately made a back up to. The loss of her brother Darth Nexion, Lord of Death, who would no doubt be hoping for a wreck on those slopes and some corpses for his lab, and Ana.. she was that Nightsister thorn, like the horn of a Zabrak in his heart, festering, and tearing at him. Taking his burgundy gloved hand, he wiped the frozen tear from his duct, making it fall and smash in the pavement below.

Already guests of all sorts from the Sith Order were beginning to arrive and have merry time. He turning saw Purebloods, unless his eyes deceived him, mingling in jubilation. Coming to a party so fresh from the Great Divide, was perhaps an error. Using his free hand, he did command a glass of champagne to his hand, and began to sip the sparkling liquor. It made his tongue tingle, a sensation he had not had in some time. As a Scientist he marveled at how the simple things often delighted the hearts of mortals most. Everyone wanted to matter, to be touched and loved, even Sith. It was caricature of the Jedi that they were one dimensional warmongers with fits of rage and tantrums like toddlers. No, the mark of these devotees to the darkness was passion, that was the life blood of being a Sith. He had felt it himself, driving him ever on to delve into mysteries, to complete his Odyssey. Now he was despite all his brilliant thoughts and words like all in pain, nursing it and numbing it with the devices most used. Such was life, one moment you would soar high, touch the threshold of the heavens and next be caste on the rocks, left for dead by those who said they could not live without you. As was the adage, actions not words proved to be true test of anything, one could serenade with a vocabulary of amore, and desert a lover quickly. No, for Hemorpheus love was now a different word or coupling of words, "I am still here."

 

[Kyorra Pavanos]

​

Kaalia Pavanos [Mentioned]​

Kyorra leaned against an icy column near the cavern's edge, her arms crossed and an exaggerated scowl plastered across her face. The shimmering light from the crystals caught the red in her hair, casting an almost ethereal glow that didn't match her stormy demeanor. The hum of music pulsed through the air, the rhythms ancient yet alive, a heartbeat for the swirling crowd of Sith acolytes, mercenaries, and nobles on the dance floor.

"This is stupid," she muttered under her breath, glancing at the throng of dancers. They moved with a practiced grace that made her stomach churn—too polished, too precise. Too fake.

Her grandmother's voice rang in her mind: "Kyorra, the galaxy is built on connections. You cannot stand alone forever. The Valkyries began as strangers once."

"Yeah, but they didn't have to deal with this nonsense," Kyorra hissed to herself, kicking a loose shard of crystal across the floor. She was here for one reason and one reason only: Kaalia Pavanos had insisted she attend, claiming it was an "opportunity" to learn about camaraderie. Kyorra wasn't buying it.

A fellow acolyte passed by, offering her a tentative smile. Kyorra responded with a pointed glare, her lip curling in disdain. Make friends? Sure, Grandma, I'll just hand out friendship bracelets and call it a day.

The music shifted to a slower, more deliberate tempo. The dancers on the floor adjusted seamlessly, their movements taking on a deeper, almost ritualistic quality. The air itself seemed to change, heavy with something unspoken.

Kyorra's eyes flicked to the center of the room, where several acolytes formed intricate patterns, their steps mimicking combat forms. The precision was impressive, but it only made her grind her teeth harder. She wasn't interested in playing along.

"Pavanos."

The voice came from behind her, sharp and commanding. Kyorra turned to see one of the Kor'ethyr instructors, their dark robes pristine despite the cavern's icy floor. Their crimson eyes narrowed as they gestured to the dance floor.

"You've been standing there long enough. Join the others."

"I'm good, thanks," Kyorra said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She pushed off the column, feigning an exaggerated stretch. "I'll just cheer from the sidelines. Real team spirit, you know?"

The instructor's expression didn't waver. "Your grandmother speaks highly of you. Says you're talented but untested. Is this how you honor her faith in you?"

Kyorra froze, the words cutting through her like a blade. She hated when people invoked her grandmother's name—it always felt like a cheap way to manipulate her. But it worked.

"Fine," she spat, brushing past the instructor toward the dance floor. "But don't expect me to smile."

As she stepped onto the icy surface, the music's rhythm seemed to wrap around her, pulling her into its flow. The other acolytes cast fleeting glances her way, some curious, others wary. Kyorra rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck as if she were about to step into a fight rather than a dance.

Her first movements were clumsy and deliberate, more out of defiance than lack of skill. She mimicked the others, her steps jagged and sharp, intentionally breaking the smooth flow of the routine.

But the music persisted, relentless and magnetic. Each beat seemed to challenge her, daring her to lose herself in the rhythm. Slowly, despite herself, Kyorra's movements softened, her steps aligning more naturally with the others. She didn't smile—she wouldn't smile—but her focus shifted. The dance wasn't about the people around her; it was about the way the music pulled her into something bigger than herself.

She hated to admit it, but there was power in it.

As the music swelled, she caught the eye of another acolyte, a young Twi'lek who faltered mid-step, their nervousness palpable. Kyorra hesitated, then matched her movements with theirs, subtly guiding them back into the flow.

The instructor watched from the edge, a faint smirk tugging at their lips.

By the time the song ended, Kyorra had retreated back to her icy column, arms crossed again and scowl firmly in place. But something was different. She glanced toward the Twi'lek, who offered her a small nod of thanks.

Kyorra rolled her eyes but didn't look away. Maybe her grandmother wasn't entirely wrong.

"Still stupid," she muttered under her breath, but this time her tone lacked its usual bite.

 

[Sahira Keto]

The invitation to this gathering of festivities was a boon to this Krath Witch. She arrived on a transport, and began to walk at the caves, illuminate in the colors of revelry. Already many were giving themselves to the music, the most potent sorcery of all. Coming to the chilly outside, her fine Black and Gray Dress, which at her bosom had exposed flesh. Her gilded eyes scanning the crowds standing there beneath the snow, when she saw a man, @Darth Hermorpheus. He was rather handsome in his blood soaked armor, standing apart from the others, which for a predator like her signaled this was the prey to seek. As in the world of the animals, the one that breaks off from the pack is the one that is easily picked off. Though her interest was not another conquest. To kill was not the thrill, rather to weave her gnarled hand around a heart and implant threads of darkness to pull at.

She walking with regal step came to him and grabbed a glass with her hand, taking a sip of the rather terrible fluid. It tickled and tasted as if she had taking rubbing alchole and poured it into a glass. Though when in Korriban..
Taking another sip she came alongside him and said,
"It is awful is it not? All the merriment.. almost as dreadful as this drink."
She raised it with a smile, before pouring some out on the snowy slop below them.
"I would much prefer the vintages of my homeworld.. you have not lived until you have had Teta Wine."

She could sense his reservation, he did not immediately lock eyes, as if he sensed her power and already was fighting it. Curious, was he familiar with Magic? This made her aroused.. on Teta the men were as easy to play a fiddles, her conjuring the strings of magic to make them do as she wanted. When she reached at this Lord's heart. she found armor, he was guarded, and more than that he seemed to have strings of his own. Though they were not fasten to anyone here, at this soiree. When finally he did dain to look at her, she saw something in those blues that was unmistakable.. pain.. such delicious pain. This made her bolder, moving closer to him as she placed her woven arms on a rail so cold, it almost shocked her limbs despite their covering. Looking down at the guests riding various sleighs and boards on the snow she chuckled,
"How amusing.. we put on such a good show.. make ourselves seem grand and strong, and then when we have had enough to drink or drank enough of life's pain, we become children again.. playing in the snow."

Her words were purposeful, meant to illicit a reaction, the problem is that they had as much of an effect on her as she hoped they would on Him. As a Krath she had come to play games, to tangle hearts, and use her magic to mangle what she could, to make people remember and tremble at the Dark Side Devotees of Teta. Then she found she have overplayed her hand already, to caste a greater spell, one had to use something real, from the heart to establish the connection, and this one had struck her. She remembered being a child on her home world, laughing not to charm anyone, rather because she was having a delightful time. She felt a chill of memory, and regretted having opened this box, as she turned she said,
"Pardon me.. I am not feeling well.."
As she stepped away, she felt a hand grab her arm, not in a hard tug, gentle, and motioning for her to turn back. She swallowed as she turned her head of sparkling raven black hair that was so straight it seemed sculputerd lie the statues of the tombs of the dark lords.

 

[Eira Dyn]

​

Outfit: Dress
Tag: Kaila Irons

The reaction to her kiss wasn't one that Eira had predicted, she assumed it would have gone much more appreciative from Kaila but it seemed that there was something else on Kaila's mind. Someone else. Eira was not a fool and she was naive on the relationship deal. Eira sighed deeply when there was the mention of needing to talk. It was never a good thing when people needed to talk and Eira had hoped to just have a fun night where she could dance and enjoy herself.

Then there was the jab about leaving Kaila on read. Eira growled.

"Are my studies not important?" Eira simply asked, "or is it only fair for you to prioritise your studies as an acolyte but I cannot do the same?" While they had met after Kaila had been an acolyte, the other Sith had told her about how important her time as an acolyte had been. Eira was focused on being the best Sith she could be and right now was a dangerous time for her. Acolytes were always the first to die and Eira refused to die. Therefore she needed to prioritise her studies and succeed as much as she could.

Taking a step back, Eira crossed her arms over her chest. "We never discussed anything more between than something fun when we could enjoy the time together. But you feared Carnifex finding our connection, you limited things." The young woman was annoyed since she had spent so much time to be here and have fun and now the mood was being soured. "End things if you want, but do not blame my inability to be available at the drop of a hat for you. Especially since you were the one hiding me, not the other way around."

Eira stood there, waiting to see if Kaila had anything else she wanted to say. She was refused to let herself feel heartache or disappointment, focusing on the annoyance she was feeling. Refusing to accept that she could have put more effort in, Eira couldn't do that. It was a weakness to open up that much and it was a weakness she could not afford right now.

 

[Leshanna]

Tags: OPEN
Wearing This Dress ​

There was a buzz of excitement in the air throughout the Academy; there was going to be a Dance, and it was basically expected of the students to be there. History about the dances and their rituals were taught, though Leshanna had the feeling that the information passed to her and the others was a fragment of what the dances used to be. They were ancient, and the people who had created the ritualized dances that the Academy was trying to teach them all about, were all but extinct.

Still, the young teenager was excited to dress up and actually let herself be free for a little while. Her way of celebrating her recent victories as she had started to make a name for herself in the Academy.

But then she hit a conundrum: who was she going to take to the Dance?!

Her first thought went immediately to her friend and playful rival, Naamino Zuukamano . A blush had crept up her cheeks when she first thought about asking him; and had felt a nervous flutter in her belly. She rather liked how he was shaping up; he was strong, and stoic, and a good friend to have around. He was brave, and faced his challenges with courage and spirit. And she had taken notice. And…his new tattoos made him look rather handsome, if she was honest with herself. It was then that she began to realize that she just might have a crush on him. So she went dress shopping, wanting to find something that might…impress him. Maybe she could tell him how she felt at the dance…it seemed like a good opportunity to do so.

Of course, no one knew her inner thoughts on the matter. She didn’t breathe a word about this to anyone - Not to Naamino, not to Micah, not to Gavin, and not to Kivah - the core members of their little group that seemed connected, if somewhat loosely. Beyond them, she really had no other friends, or people she could consider friends. Naamino, she felt, was her only true friend. So it made sense to her that she would ask her friend if he’d go to the dance with her.

…and then she found out that he had chosen Micah tol Powl to accompany him.

It was the first time Leshanna had felt such strange, churning emotions. She was happy for him, for them both - but also hurt and saddened at the same time. It was clear to her then that he and Micah had something going on between them; she was suspicious about it for a while, but this only seemed to confirm her suspicions.

It was almost enough to make her stay at the Academy and study or practice, instead of going to the Dance. She even considered returning the dress she’d bought. But the young Acolyte steeled herself, and pulled herself together. She was strong. She would go to the dance alone; she didn’t need anyone to enjoy her night still and have fun. Maybe she’d meet others and make more friends.

And that’s what she did; she arrived at the Dance location in the frigid mountains of Korriban alone; she felt beautiful in her dress and she held her chin high and carried herself with an air of self-confidence. She had grown a lot since her first trials; she wasn’t the shy, reluctant girl anymore. Sure she kept to herself a lot, but she took her studies seriously. But when she was challenged…she faced it head on, like how a Sith was supposed to. Or, so she hoped anyway.

Music thumped through the various chambers, in different tones and volumes. Food and drinks were being offered, a section for adults as well as for the Academy students. There were many faces and bodies here, males and females from all races and types wearing their best. It was a lot to take in, a lot of visual stimulation for her. Leshanna didn’t know where to start, so she just stood there on the fringes for a few moments, her sapphire blue eyes flickering from person to person. She saw some faces she recognized - Micah and Naamino being a couple of them, along with a few other students and even faculty like Madrona A’Mia , and the newer addition Akhuul Sautra - but most she did not know. Lesh sighed heavily, her mind drifting as she began pondering once more if coming here had been a mistake after all.

 

[Revna]

Direct Interaction: Madrona A’Mia
Mentions: Aiwaz Khath // Karala Midwan
​

The drink Revna had ordered for herself was perhaps a little on the strong side, but tasteful nonetheless. She sipped it and enjoyed it, watching the various folks around her, the dancers and the sparkling lights and beautiful crystal and ice sculptures. Truly, the place was breathtaking.

Her ever watchful gaze spotted a couple of rare individuals amongst the crowd; Sith Purebloods, a male and female from the looks of it, come to take in the sights and sounds. Seeing them made her think about one of her fellow Disciple-Brothers, Raxus Thul , who was also a Pureblood. She’d been impressed by him in their first mission together as the newly anointed apprentices of her late Master; he was blunt and plain spoken, and she appreciated that about him. Their duties had separated them, however, and she hadn’t seen him for quite some time. He’d been the source of her secret and deep interest with the Red Sith, the Purebloods, and their ancient culture - and how it had somehow given rise to the Sith that roamed the galaxy today.

She wondered how he was faring after the fall of their Master; perhaps, if she ever got in contact with him again, she could encourage him to return to the planet of his people. Maybe mingle with others of his own kind, like the two within her sights. She had always felt that this place belonged to them, rightfully - and it had been a shame that their kind had all but lost to history. But, clearly there were a few still around.

A presence coming near to her pulled her gaze away and she looked upon the strange, but beautifully fascinating form of Korriban’s Lord Seer, Madrona A’Mia, who was now looming over her and staring at her intently, seeming to compliment the younger and much smaller Sith on her brave and apparently powerful look. She spoke almost cheerfully to Revna, even smiled at her - but it did not reflect in her eyes.

Revna did not shift from her position, even if the situation was unsettling, and she returned the smile to the Lord Seer as she took a sip of her drink. A’Mia asked her if her stay on Korriban had been engaging, and made it a point to note that the King was intrigued by her. The intrigue was mutual; Revna was becoming more and more drawn in by the dark majesty that was Darth Caedes. It was something that was a bit of a mystery to her, something she couldn’t explain and didn’t really understand.

A’Mia’s comments only made the younger woman smile further, as a gleam of something shined in her eyes briefly. She was not new to the games that the Sith played with one another, though she did note that A’Mia appeared more curious than threatening or suspicious. Still, she kept her guard up while being polite and respectful. Revna was very much aware that she was a newcomer around these parts, and her involvement with some of the courtly affairs was more than likely to draw eyes to her, and that attention undoubtedly would not always be “friendly”.

“Bravely indeed; I’ve never worn a dress before, if I may be honest. Seemed like a good opportunity to change that. Maybe catch the eye of a prospective dance partner or something…” She said with a somewhat playful smile. “Korriban has been quite engaging, actually. It has been a place on my mind for a few years now; it is a privilege to spend time on this hallowed world, and in the King’s presence. It is certainly an honor that I do not take lightly.”

She looked at the Neti for a few moments longer, taking in the intricacy of the natural dress, along with the necklace she wore to compliment her outfit - the pearly and opalescent hues of the various plant-life suited her rather well, she thought.

“You look lovely, my Lady. Ethereal and enchanting, if I may be so bold as to say.”

 

[Adean Castor]

WEARING: X
TAG: Open

The dark-haired acolyte accidentally of both academies found the festivities of the night to be more of a performance than it was a chance to let loose. Her posture was made to look more rigid with the structured collar that accentuated her shoulders. The cinch around her waist further accentuated the figure of one hard at work maintaining double lives.

There was no telling just who would be amongst the crowds of the night, even if it did take place on Korriban. Surely she wasn't the only attendee of the Jutrand academy present this night. Brassius Zambrano on Jutrand, Tavis Ordel on Korriban...the name she used would purely depend on who she interacted with. She could only pray she didn't get the names mixed up.

Walking up to a refreshments bar with the gentle click clack of her heeled boots, Adean half-filled a cup with punch, sliding to an open spot against a wall to watch the dancing festivities.

 

[Karala Midwan]

Primary Tags: Karala Midwan Aiwaz Khath
Acknowledgement Tags: Revna Kaila Irons Eira Dyn Madrona A’Mia Domina Prime Lucette Micah tol Powl Naamino Zuukamano
Location: Cave in the Korriban Mountains
Objective: 1 - Darth Dance Revolution
Equipment: In Bio
Music:

Spoiler: HERE

The scene continued as it seemed my one correction started spreading among the others. The imitators that claimed my people's heritage continued on with their dance, yet more seemed to have done it more properly among them. Others seemed to just let their feelings dictate their motion. Such was not out of place for Sith, yet is by no means like that of my people's golden age. It mattered not. Soon, those who claimed my people's name will learn.

I then felt a sensation. It resonated in my soul, with a slight glow from my chassis intensifying. It seemed something effected the woman of my kind that stood before me. There was a heightened heart rate seen by my sensors. Before I could make a proper introduction, after gladly hearing the language of my people said even in the old dialect, she then ran off into the crowd.
Before I could be enraged by such insolence towards one's elder among my own kind she then would return with another descendant of my people. Not a proclaimed one, a true one. A sire of Korriban in full. My rage-filled spite subsided at such a sight.

An emulation of a pleasant laugh left my vocabulator. "It pleases me to see that you speak our tongue, yet also bring another member of my people." A sight of members of my own kind was truly gladdening. My people have not been erased after all. "I trust you also know the tongue of the people who's blood flows through your veins?", I said to the younger man. Looking at him almost reminded me of myself in ages past as I went through the ancient rites. "I have been going by 'Darth Cryptis' among those who claim the inheritance of our kind. To you, I extend the courtesy of introducing myself as Lord Akhuul Sautra.", I would say with a slight tipping of my head and an open gesture with my clawed steel hand. "How may I call the sires of my people that stand before me?"

Karla gave a bow to the Lord, he was one of their own, a Pure Blood and spoke like a King of Old, when their people were in the golden age. Before the dark times, before The Empire.

"It is a Vik'dyt (Honor) to meet you Lord Sautra. I confess that it was beyond my greatest hopes to meet another one of our kind here, on our home world!"

She shifted a little in her black and golden dress. Her long black hair falling as waterfall of the darkness.

"I beseech your Lordship to allow us to accompany you in the festivites. To show these Hadzuska Ari (Dark Lords) how it is done."

She gave a smile, for she had watched as Lord Akhuul had endeavored to try and teach these Acolytes how to properly do the dance of the Tsis. Karla was even inclined to show them how it was done. With three Pure Bloods together, she could keep dancing while one rested and truly bring honor to the gods and The Darkness.

A warmth washed over Aiwaz as Karala picked him out from the crowd, a warmth he had not felt since Ozzuk. Karala's presence seemed to instil something in him he seldom felt, and seeing her again after days apart since Ozzuk had suddenly awoken such a realisation in him. Blood made his red face miraculously redder than usual, but he was one to adhere to the old ways of the Sith, and bowed graciously in greeting as taught by his grandsire, as archaic as it may have appeared.
"My lady Karala, the deathly cold of this mountain is nothing to the warmth you bring."
Too much? Yikes. His inner voice chastised him and he cringed at himself. The moment melted away and he found himself sharing a soft smile with her. "I'm glad to see you again." He meant it, and could see the feeling was clearly mutual.

A great hulking machination then came to them. On the surface, it was a truly terrifying metal beast, but he could sense something different about it. Deep within there, somewhere, he could feel the aura of his own. He bowed to the new visitor.
"Lord Sautra," he greeted, then proceeded to speak in the Sith tongue. "In fact, the Old Tongue is my first. This is Karala of House Midwan. I am Aiwaz of Clan Khath. It's a pleasure to meet you." Switching back to Common, he continued. "What brings you to this farce of the Pretenders? Does it not make you sick?" He couldn't help himself.



TAG: Karala Midwan Akhuul Sautra

Aiwaz's words made her blush, circles of pink forming below her gilded eyes and on her cheeks. In his very presence, she felt a warmth and her heart rate increase more rapidly. She was in rapture, that on Ozzuk she had found a Pure Blood, that it seemed as the Immortal Gods had brought them together, and now another Pure Blood who she sensed a deep reservoir of Wisdom.

"It.. is a pleasure beyond my ability to express at this reunion Aiwaz.."

Her mind drifted to Ozzuk and the trials they had faced together, how strong and mighty he have proved himself to be, and resourceful. He did not charge in blindly like a Massassi, he used strategy, which she appreciated. If they were some of few Purebloods left in the galaxy, risking their lives wantonly was folly. Though no true Sith would shirk from a fight, war was in their blood, as much as love and tradition.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Bar
Wearing: Dress
Tag: Eira Dyn

Kaila's expression faded like the statues of Korriban, their faces eroded by wind and time until nothing of their old self remained. Her expression wasn't merely hurt it was... broken. Yet from the pieces of what remained, something new was built in it's place. Acceptance.

She was right.

Not Kaila Irons, but Darth Anathemous. The untrusting sith which The Order had stitched together from the remains of that little girl laid at her master's feet. For just a moment this wasn't about comparing Eira's coldness to Ala Quin 's warmth or even lamenting for the broken heart which had long since been discarded.

Anathemous' face settled into that cold, uncaring look which so many of the higher sith seemed locked in. Kaila had faked it so many times before, trying to hide her true feelings from the world. Feelings which she had tried to share with Eira so many times before. But Anathemous wasn't pretending, not this time.

"That was about to change." she stated, a tired sigh trailing her words.

"Because I found a way out, a way we could have been untouchable."

She looked to the stars beyond the cave's mouth from whence she came, seeing things which could have been between each speck.

"Even before, I made time for you. I showed you things the academy could never teach you, I gave my secrets to you, and would have continued to do so. Why would I have done any of this, if I believed this a mere transaction...?"

Anathemous blinked, her cold stare drifting towards Eira one last time. But it wasn't Eira she saw in the acolyte's red eyes. Just... another sith. One of those scheming serpents she often fought to rid herself of, be it through shadowed political gatherings or at the tip of a blade. One of countless figures in black who had lied to her, used her until she was bled dry and then discarded. Everything that Ala was not... and it had taken a Jedi sharing her heart to realize that there was no point in treating this ilk like anything more than parasites. Even the dark lords had tried to teach her this lesson —that a sith has no friends, and no heart.

"I wonder how many came before me..." she wondered aloud, a single tear dropping from an otherwise expressionless face.

"One of these days you're going to hurt someone less forgiving than I. And when that happens, no one will be there to protect you."



Then she simply turned, and walked away.

​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

The Former Achon of Life was about to leave this party, when a Lady most unusual began to approach. At once he recognized in her palor and the way she was trying to finger into his mind and heart, that she was a Witch. Though she was not a Nightsister as Anastarsia was, no this was something else. She was trying to download.. is that then proper expression? His thoughts, and found that his guard was up. Then she tried the most potent power, words, remarking on the party and speaking of her homeworld. So the Princess Teta system.. intriguing, that was a world that made a Great Jedi fall, Ulic Qel Droma. It was said the potency of the Krath Magics and Qel Droma's zeal to be a Jedi Shadow and destroy the Cult from within was why he fell to the dark side. Looking at this woman and remembering in the annuls what Aleema Keto, Ulic's mistress looked like, he was rather certain it was for more carnal reasons, which Ulic clade in the trappings of prophecy and good intentions.

She wove her craft well, playing all the notes that would illicit something in him had he not be Sorcery himself. Hemorpheus was content to let her weave her losing web, when she made a remark that no only unsettled him, it seemed to undo her, as he sensed in her true signs of illness. As Scientist, and tragically a good man, he could not let her leave without offering aid. Taking his hand he did grab her arm lightly, though as he felt it, it was no flesh, beneath the black and gray covering was the hardness of metal. When she turned, her long black locks swaying and her golden eyes gleaming, he said,
"I have many remedies for illness.. please, let me offer you something."

He let go of her hand and taking a glass of tonic water, he took a capsule from his pouch on his belt and dropped it into the liquid. As the clear bubbling fluid turned to yellow, he then offered her the glass,
"This is an elixir I carry with me, it well help you immensely."
He was was curious if this Witch would trust him, many Sith used means not rather honorable to destroy one other in the ladder climbing of the Empire. Though he was not here to ascend in that way, he came to offer aid, to be a shield to the Sith and offer what he had learned of the Great Mystery. The Lord of Life did not delight in death, his passion was life in all its forms, even this strange sorceress who had singled him out. She may have ill designs for him, that mattered not to him, Hemorpheus would do all in his power to stoke the coals of the vita, and ensure that no one perished needlessly in his presence.

TAG: Sahira Keto

 

[Sahira Keto]

The gesture of him endeavoring to make her tarry there was followed up by an offer of help. That was.. unexpected. He was so reticent, and inclined to pay her no heed, and now he had a glass of a concoction for her. She took the glass with her left hand, her right had the tendecy to shatter glass. Taking a wiff of the bubbling elixir, she then drew it to her Black Orchid lips. The first sip was to determine that it was indeed harmless, and then she downed it as if taking a shot of Zabrak Tequila. Her gilded eyes fixing on him, he still had his mind fortified, so there was no accessing his thoughts and drawing what knowledge therein be. The truth is that he was behaving much as a gentlemen, like those on Teta, except he was a Lord. Was this some courtly manner that stirred him to action? Her advances had gone unrequited, and then as she became ill from her own craft, he stepped in. Perhaps she should carry on, playing the poor patient to his doctor, it would be nice fiction in this party. Though she sensed in those handomse blues that he was no ignorant to her games. Deciding instead to put the proverbial cards on the table, she said,
"You are aware I tried to transfer your thoughts.. to glean from repository of your mind. Alas you have quite a shield.. I wonder did someone teach you Magic to make you immune to my power?"

Sahira found honesty tasted as vinegar or a bad wine in her mouth. She much preferred intrigues, and the challenge of the hunt. Though something about this Lord made her want to be less cryptic, was he using a power on her? She had not felt him try to read her mind, how odd. In point of fact, she had though him content to ignore her altogether till he offered the tonic with his medicine. Which she was rather suprised was making her feel better, it must have had nutrients that on her long fasts had been depleted. Seeing a tray of grapes pass by she reclined on a chair and levitated some to her hand, her metal fingers with their gnarled spikes piercing the round purple orbs as she drew them to her mouth.
"I think introductions are in order. My name is Sahira Keto."
The juice of the cluster of grapes broke in her mouth as she chewed, the taste was delicious, she savoring the fruit of the vine as she waited to see what his response would be.

TAG: Darth Hemorpheus

 

[Akhuul Sautra]

Direct Tags: Karala Midwan Aiwaz Khath
Acknowledgement Tags: Revna Kaila Irons Eira Dyn Madrona A’Mia Domina Prime Lucette Micah tol Powl Naamino Zuukamano Leshanna
Location: Cave in the Korriban Mountains
Objective: 1 - Darth Dance Revolution
Equipment: In Bio
Music: Music:

Spoiler: HERE

I was quite impressed at these younger specimens of my kind. Not just that they existed, but knew the ways of their ancestors well. Portions of my digitized consciousness began searching for whether I knew of a Clan Khath. All the memory banks I had access to without any attachment to Sautra Vokh's archives suggested that such a Clan arose after my times. It would likely have been in the times of Darth Vitiate's Empire at earliest as the purebloods were still common enough at such a time. It pleased me that there were still members of my kind that held noble heritage rather than being mere scavengers in a ruined wasteland.

The name Midwan piqued my interest. I have not heard of such a name in eons. Sure, it was among the lesser bloodlines compared to those who commanded our people in ancient times. Yet, I knew the woman's ancestors well enough. If my memory served me well, I believe I either fought against or alongside a Midwan in one of my former master's campaigns preceding the glorious reign of Marka Ragnos....
Ahhhhh..... Memories...., I found myself thinking. To hear a name like Midwan again certain had them resurface near instantaneously within my digital cortexes. Countless flashes of past experiences showing for miliseconds in crisp detail as if I was watching a film in my mind. A slight twitch of my head would be all that was visible to onlookers for a split second.

"Very good", I satisfiedly said with hearing the young man say my people's tongue was his first. True perfection. At least among my kind, culture has not deteriorated to decadence and posturing. "It is an attempt at our people's ways, Scion of Khath. Yet, they have to learn somehow. As I teach many of these whelps at the academy, watching them will determine how harshly I scold the initiates in my tutelage. Young things, they are." I would mechanically chortle at his disdain. Ah, the fire of youth. "Malice is good for a Sith, Scion of Khath. Steward your spite well. They are no members of our people. Yet, they chase after the ideals laid down by my and your forefathers' generation. Lady Midwan is certainly of a good mind to show them...enlightenment."

Teaching those who claim my people's legacy certainly is a great undertaking beholding this display. Yet, my sensors continued to see signals of heightened heart rate among the two youths I speak to. Ahhhhhh! They exhibit passion for one another. How quaint!, my inner thoughts went. I could not deny a fair amount of vestigial programming from times long passed seemed to creep back at the sight of Lady Midwan. It mattered not. I likely would outlive her and her children like I have outlived my rivals for eons. Besides, I found good company among another fellow machine regardless. My musings would then end as quickly as they came into my digital consciousness.

"As said, Lady Midwan, becoming exemplars for the barbarians who take the heritage of our kind is a thought of good mind. Perhaps one day I will have pupils who do not disappoint me if this generation embraces its ancestral ways." My voice carried optimistic malice. I doubted the capacity of mortals, especially of different ilk. Yet, I do find their efforts of imitation quite amusing. Indeed. It would be a glorious day if they embraced the ancestral ways. I had an eternity to ensure that one of these generations will not be so disappointing.

 

[Aiwaz Khath]

Karla gave a bow to the Lord, he was one of their own, a Pure Blood and spoke like a King of Old, when their people were in the golden age. Before the dark times, before The Empire.

"It is a Vik'dyt (Honor) to meet you Lord Sautra. I confess that it was beyond my greatest hopes to meet another one of our kind here, on our home world!"

She shifted a little in her black and golden dress. Her long black hair falling as waterfall of the darkness.

"I beseech your Lordship to allow us to accompany you in the festivites. To show these Hadzuska Ari (Dark Lords) how it is done."

She gave a smile, for she had watched as Lord Akhuul had endeavored to try and teach these Acolytes how to properly do the dance of the Tsis. Karla was even inclined to show them how it was done. With three Pure Bloods together, she could keep dancing while one rested and truly bring honor to the gods and The Darkness.



Aiwaz's words made her blush, circles of pink forming below her gilded eyes and on her cheeks. In his very presence, she felt a warmth and her heart rate increase more rapidly. She was in rapture, that on Ozzuk she had found a Pure Blood, that it seemed as the Immortal Gods had brought them together, and now another Pure Blood who she sensed a deep reservoir of Wisdom.

"It.. is a pleasure beyond my ability to express at this reunion Aiwaz.."

Her mind drifted to Ozzuk and the trials they had faced together, how strong and mighty he have proved himself to be, and resourceful. He did not charge in blindly like a Massassi, he used strategy, which she appreciated. If they were some of few Purebloods left in the galaxy, risking their lives wantonly was folly. Though no true Sith would shirk from a fight, war was in their blood, as much as love and tradition.

Direct Tags: Karala Midwan Aiwaz Khath
Acknowledgement Tags: Revna Kaila Irons Eira Dyn Madrona A’Mia Domina Prime Lucette Micah tol Powl Naamino Zuukamano Leshanna
Location: Cave in the Korriban Mountains
Objective: 1 - Darth Dance Revolution
Equipment: In Bio
Music: Music:

Spoiler: HERE

I was quite impressed at these younger specimens of my kind. Not just that they existed, but knew the ways of their ancestors well. Portions of my digitized consciousness began searching for whether I knew of a Clan Khath. All the memory banks I had access to without any attachment to Sautra Vokh's archives suggested that such a Clan arose after my times. It would likely have been in the times of Darth Vitiate's Empire at earliest as the purebloods were still common enough at such a time. It pleased me that there were still members of my kind that held noble heritage rather than being mere scavengers in a ruined wasteland.

The name Midwan piqued my interest. I have not heard of such a name in eons. Sure, it was among the lesser bloodlines compared to those who commanded our people in ancient times. Yet, I knew the woman's ancestors well enough. If my memory served me well, I believe I either fought against or alongside a Midwan in one of my former master's campaigns preceding the glorious reign of Marka Ragnos....
Ahhhhh..... Memories...., I found myself thinking. To hear a name like Midwan again certain had them resurface near instantaneously within my digital cortexes. Countless flashes of past experiences showing for miliseconds in crisp detail as if I was watching a film in my mind. A slight twitch of my head would be all that was visible to onlookers for a split second.

"Very good", I satisfiedly said with hearing the young man say my people's tongue was his first. True perfection. At least among my kind, culture has not deteriorated to decadence and posturing. "It is an attempt at our people's ways, Scion of Khath. Yet, they have to learn somehow. As I teach many of these whelps at the academy, watching them will determine how harshly I scold the initiates in my tutelage. Young things, they are." I would mechanically chortle at his disdain. Ah, the fire of youth. "Malice is good for a Sith, Scion of Khath. Steward your spite well. They are no members of our people. Yet, they chase after the ideals laid down by my and your forefathers' generation. Lady Midwan is certainly of a good mind to show them...enlightenment."

Teaching those who claim my people's legacy certainly is a great undertaking beholding this display. Yet, my sensors continued to see signals of heightened heart rate among the two youths I speak to. Ahhhhhh! They exhibit passion for one another. How quaint!, my inner thoughts went. I could not deny a fair amount of vestigial programming from times long passed seemed to creep back at the sight of Lady Midwan. It mattered not. I likely would outlive her and her children like I have outlived my rivals for eons. Besides, I found good company among another fellow machine regardless. My musings would then end as quickly as they came into my digital consciousness.

"As said, Lady Midwan, becoming exemplars for the barbarians who take the heritage of our kind is a thought of good mind. Perhaps one day I will have pupils who do not disappoint me if this generation embraces its ancestral ways." My voice carried optimistic malice. I doubted the capacity of mortals, especially of different ilk. Yet, I do find their efforts of imitation quite amusing. Indeed. It would be a glorious day if they embraced the ancestral ways. I had an eternity to ensure that one of these generations will not be so disappointing.

Aiwaz listened to the lord's words and he considered them closely. He had spent much of his life feeling absolutist towards those who would steal his peoples' name and ways, but between Karala and Lord Sautra, he was starting to develop a wider understanding of their place in the galaxy.

He nodded once in stoic recognition. Sautra seemed to be well versed in the methods of their peoples' ways and survival, and though he had learned well the traditions of his kin as kept and developed by his own family, he knew there were others out there who would hold other praxis of the Pure. He was excited to learn more of this fellow.

"I would appreciate the chance to speak more with you on how we may preserve- nay, renew the ways of our people." His eyes flamed with a recognisable ferocity as he dreamed of the potential for returning greatness to the Sith. "But for the now..." He turned to Karla and the passion in his eyes projected forth to her. He started to feel the beat in his very bones as the bass set in. He presented his hand to her and grinned as the awkwardness of earlier suddenly burned away. "My lady, would you care to join me in shattering this place with fire and fury?"



TAGS: Karala Midwan Akhuul Sautra

 

[Eira Dyn]

​

Outfit: Dress
Tag: Kaila Irons | Open

She shook her head, "I am in the academy. There is no way out for me. Not yet. Not now that there is cooperation with the Kainites and the rest of the Sith Order." It was tenuous but it was still present enough that she made any attempts to harm Carnifex, an entire Sith Order could be on top of her. Something that no loyalty to others could save her from.

Kaila wanted her to risk death but Eira couldn't, wouldn't do that for anyone. There was no prizes in the galaxy that would sway her on that.

Kaila had always been a Sith first in Eira's mind. She believed that this was two people manipulating one another while getting entangled. That if there was a potential for more, that would come in time. When time had passed and trust could be formed. "We met a handful of times and I made sure to focus on being there for you when we did. I do not regret prioritising my training over pursuing something that put me in the shadows, at best or get me killed at worst."

Eira wanted to stand out, to shine as the epitome of a Sith Sorcerer and Assassin. She couldn't live in the shadows, traipsing along with Kaila while her dreams were being achieved by others.

The last comment of Kaila cut deep. She had offered a side of herself she refused to show to the academy, to her fellow students. A side of her that had been affectionate, that could be guided into feeling emotions that Kaila had found in someone else. "I..." She wanted to curse Kaila, to say that she hoped that all that Kaila loved would turn to ash and she regretted ever insulting her in such a manner. To be the cruel, heartless Sith that Kaila decided that she was now.

But the words would not form. The insult refused to escape her throat. Instead she stood there, emotionless and let Kaila walk away. Breathing in steadily, she turned and headed to the bar. She had refused to let Kaila see how hurt she had been. The other woman did not desire the glory of that. It was bad enough that she could not finish her insult, to just confirm the false beliefs.

Perhaps this was heartbreak. Perhaps she was hurt more than she thought she would be. But Eira couldn't deal with that problem right now.

"Whisky. Bottle." Eira ordered with the usual fury and anger in her voice.

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Open

​

Recent developments within the Galactic Alliance necessitated his departure from the Kingdom of Korriban, much to the chagrin of the Neimoidians Monarch as the Federal Assembly was starting to become active again and so required him to direct the affairs and influence of Senator Monaray Dod to convince the senate to restore some semblance of pro-corporate policy within the government.

The planet represented a significant investment prospect for the Trade Federation of Planets, serving as a means to diversify their assets across the galaxy and safeguard them from the schemes of the Dark Empire who were suffering internal problems as they were increasingly lead by an absentee emperor and a divided Imperial Ruling Council.

Lodd found some relief from these concerns, as the turmoil within the galaxy had hindered his participation in the Survival Games of Ozzuk Thren. This absence, which he had assured the King of Korriban Darth Caedes he would attend during their previous conference, was likely to undermine his credibility to a certain degree.

It raised the question of why one would place trust in an ally who is unable to fulfill commitments, rather than in a more reliable counterpart. To rebuild a semblance of trust, his attendance at the afterparty dance was imperative, leading the Neimoidian to make a grand entrance, accompanied by multiple members of the Neimoidian Royal Guard.

He made his way to the dance floor after procuring a refreshing beverage from a nearby service droid.

 

[Iskendyr Yvarro]

Micah tol Powl | Naamino Zuukamano | Maiza Vex​

Iskendyr stepped off the shuttle with his usual air of effortless confidence, his polished boots clicking against the crystal-strewn ground of Korriban's icy mountains. The warm light reflecting off the cavernous walls caught the gold trims of his white Imperial suit, setting them aglow. His red cape shifted with his movements, the rich fabric gleaming like freshly spilt wine beneath the lights.

He took a slow, deliberate look around the gathering. The blend of tradition and modernity in the décor was impressive—crystals and ice refracted the soft amber light, creating a dazzling array of colors across the polished dance floor. The air hummed with the energy of the event: music thrummed in his ears, punctuated by bursts of laughter and animated conversation.

"Subtle, as always," Iskendyr murmured to himself, his sardonic smile twitching at the corner of his lips. If the Sith knew anything, it was how to turn even a simple dance into a spectacle.

He descended into the crowd with an air of purpose, his gaze sweeping over the elegantly dressed attendees. He wasn't looking for just anyone, of course. Somewhere among the sea of capes, high collars, and extravagant fabrics were his so-called "friends"—Micah, Naami, and Maiza. Not that he would admit outright that he was searching for them. An Imperial, after all, never looked desperate.

Instead, he moved gracefully through the crowd, nodding to passing guests who clearly noted his arrival. He accepted their brief looks of curiosity or admiration with a practiced smile, his posture impeccably straight.

As he neared the center of the room, his golden eyes caught a familiar flash of short pants and intricate tailoring. There was Micah, the Cathar, looking both elegant and delightfully awkward as he spoke to Naami. The Zabrak, ever the serious one, stood beside him, grounding Micah with a hand on his shoulder. Their dynamic was as striking as ever—Micah's vibrant energy balancing Naami's brooding intensity. Iskendyr's smile deepened.

"Well, well," he drawled, approaching them with measured steps, "I see the galaxy's most fashionable Cathar has graced us with his presence. Micah, is that one of your designs? Truly inspired. Though I must say," he added with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "the short pants are a bold choice for a formal event. Letting the legs breathe, are we?"

His gaze shifted to Naami, the smile turning more amused. "And you, Naami. Still as stoic as ever, I see. You're practically glowing with enthusiasm." He glanced meaningfully at the hand still on Micah's shoulder but said nothing more, letting the implication linger.

"I suppose it was too much to hope you'd all be hiding somewhere less... public," Iskendyr teased, brushing a non-existent speck of dust from his sleeve. "I'm thrilled to see you both survived the Trials in one piece. And now here you are, in the heart of Sith tradition, ready to charm the galaxy. Or," he paused, smirking, "are you just here for the aerial acts?"

His tone was light, but his sharp gaze took in every detail of their interaction, already plotting how to make the evening as entertaining as possible. After all, why simply attend a dance when you could make an entrance? As he looked around a moment, surveying his surroundings.

Iskendyr's arrival had already caused a minor stir, as it always did, but he wasn't content to stop there. After all, Life Day traditions from Dosuun demanded more than just presence—they demanded thoughtful generosity, and Iskendyr prided himself on being both generous and thoughtful when it suited him.

As he stood beside Micah and Naami, his trademark smirk softened slightly. "Ah, and since this is a Life Day celebration, it would be remiss of me not to honor the occasion properly."

He reached into the sleek satchel slung across his chest, the polished black leather catching the soft refracted light of the cavern. With a touch of flair, he pulled out the first gift: a beautifully bound personal journal, its handcrafted leather cover etched with subtle yet elegant designs. The faint scent of fresh parchment and finely worked leather lingered as he extended it toward Naami.

"For you, Naami," Iskendyr said, his tone smooth but sincere. "A journal, for whenever the noise of the galaxy gets too loud. Thought you might appreciate something made for quiet reflection." He tilted his head slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. "Handcrafted on Dosuun, naturally. Only the finest."

Naami took the journal with a quiet but firm nod, his expression guarded yet appreciative. Iskendyr didn't press for thanks; he simply turned his attention to Micah, who was already watching with a mix of curiosity and excitement.

"And for you, Micah," Iskendyr continued, pulling out a beautifully crafted knife. Its polished bone handle gleamed under the warm light, and the Mephoutian Sahelian steel blade shone like a promise. He handed it to the Cathar with care, the leather sheath clipped neatly in place.

"A proper tool for a craftsman," he said with a smile, his tone taking on a slightly playful edge. "Though I imagine you'll find more uses for it than just cutting fabric. Commonwealth-made, of course. Strong enough to last a lifetime." Clasping his hands together the young man looked around and asked the two, "would either of you happen to know where our friendly neighborhood brigand has gotten off to? I do have a gift or two for her."