Devotion. Bravery. Sacrifice. [ Knights Obsidian ]

[Alkor Centaris]

Location: Geosynchronous low orbit over Moorwood Peak, on Monastery
Equipment: None
Condition: Lucid

They had been called together on short notice immediately after Tanaab. There had been a small, almost footnote of a meeting about what would happen next that involved the Dominus Prime and his two Knight Commanders, as well as another unexpected entity- when they left the room, there were no questions about the path they would take. Solidarity among the leadership of the Knights Obsidian was their end goal, and even if they were uncertain what they future might bring, no one spoke on it.

It fell to [member="Hashim"] to decide what they would become, and what sort of mark they would leave on Confederate History. Alkor stopped with Dominus Talon after they finished to sit with him and report on his mission. What he had found thereafter. There was silence.

"You've lost men before."

"I have."

"It was not your fault then. It isn't now."

Alkor still knew, deep down that the sensation he felt was born of guilt. Of a standing order given that, had she been allowed to go anywhere else, Naedira would not have been in the warpath of a monster beyond her abilities. He did not say that, though.

"She held long enough that the Fortressa did not fall into enemy hands," he added to his report. "She should be honored for her sacrifice."

"I will ensure Hashim speaks on it. The Knights Obsidian will not forget their heroes."

He nodded. There was nothing left to say, nothing more between them. It was the only relationship Alkor had ever had that felt normal to him. Surgical. Precise. Empty. He stood to leave.

"Centaris."

Alkor glanced back.

"The darkness is strong in you. Be conscious of it."

He nodded.

As he left, he patted the door panel. "Thank you for your service, Dominus."

He felt the man's eyes on his back. Always watching. Always judging. Always expecting.

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph did not draw attention to himself. Be it by skill, or by some influence of the Force, he passed unnoticed until his arrival at Moorwood Peak. He'd not been the same since Tanaab. Battles always changed him. But as Darth Voph strode into the gates of Moorwood, his heart was heavy. He bore a solemnity that came with grief and death. The Confederacy had lost some treasured people. Voph's friend. Centaris had lost a lover. Others had lost people they held in high regard. Voph paused at the edge of the Nexus. He could feel the burning sensation within him, as his darkness tried to flee from it. Voph was aware that people were beginning to stare.

Darth Voph. What was such a being doing here? Did he not know that the Nexus was harmful to Sith? Voph sighed quietly, and raised an armored gauntlet to rest against the edge of the Nexus. He could feel the burning sensation, but beyond it...warmth. I am not Sith. Voph bowed his head, and pressed forward, feeling the Darkness evaporate around him. It was blinding, at first. But as the light washed over him, Voph could breathe again. It was warm. Comforting. Like the Nexus on Vylmira, but stronger.

Voph stepped forward to see his fellow armored colossus summon forth the masters of the Obsidian. His arms crossed over his chest, his cloak, worn to cover his left shoulder, draping over half his crossed arms. It was a symbol. A recognition. Awarded for service to the Confederacy in her darkest hours, in defense of the Dominus Prime, Cardinal, during the Battle of Eshan. Beneath it, his Kinesium armor had been polished to a shine, the damage wrought on Tanaab had been repaired. He did not wear his helmet. He didn't need it. Instead, the usual black mantle covered his eyes, and his white hair was drawn back in a short ponytail. His lightsabers, far larger than a typical hilt, did not rest at his sides, but rather on his right shoulder, ready to grab at a moment's notice.

He had been summoned to this gathering by the highest order himself. The preparations were being made. Vylmira would be entrusted to others. For now, Voph had been called to rejoin the Obsidian. Voph drew a deep breath, and set his jaw. It felt good to be given direction again. To shed his mantle of leader. And to follow his true calling once again. Voph led from necessity. But he was not a leader. He was a warrior. A sword. A scalpel. And soon the enemies of the Confederacy would face him for what he was...

 

[Ashara Evanaris]

In the past Ashara would have sneaked by pulled the hood of her robes masking her presence to find a lonely place to watch from the sidelines as the evening unfolded. Nowadays that feeling had begun to subside for a few reasons, her past no longer haunted her casing shadows over every decision she would or have to make. The other was the obvious she was a Lethan, a lot harder to hide in the open, as well no one here knew her when she was human. They only know her as she is now a Obsidian Knight nothing else mattered there was no point to hiding in the shadows anymore.
Moorwood was new to her, she had never been here before and her knowledge of it had been lacking.

Unlike everyone else who seemed to have ties with Moorwood or the others here Ashara has yet to fight along side with any of those attending today. Which is why today she had remained out in the open she knew at some point she would have to make a name for herself and be known.Ashara listening intently as @Hashim continued on with his speech, his words hit a mark with her, smiling she understood the intention he was putting forth. Ashara believed she had come to the confederacy at the perfect time she believed their was a part for her to play among the Obsidian. The red Twilek stepped forward, her hood of her robes pulled back. She narrowed in [member="Hashim"] her penetrating stare gave off the appearance of burning hour glass eyes engulfed in flames

 

[Mara Denko]

Panic set in.

The Lord Commander had called them together to hear of the grand changes he'd planned, to inform them all of what great work was to be done to rectify the wrongs of so many years spent in toil as the Knights Obsidian... It was difficult to hear that the Dominus Prime had been injured beyond serving, but it had heartened her for a moment to know that Hashim, a man she didn't know well, but whose reputation for physical prowess was well known, would be their leader... For only a moment.

'Under the name Mandragora will the Archivists now stand.' Her heart sank in her chest as her hand shot out, her fingers finding the warm palm of her husband's for a brief moment. Crystalline clear blue eyes flashed towards [member="Josiah"] for just a moment before she retracted her hand and her gaze and instead turned back to the Lord Commander.

She did her best to quiet her racing heart as she found it difficult to listen to the rest of what their new leader had to say. She could feel them in the room around them... Their taint on this place were like tiny little smudges of darkness in all the warmth that the Nexus bathed them in. The sisters of the Mandragora were no better than some of the Sith filth that infested the Northern reaches of the galaxy... The thought of sharing the research she'd been slaving over for nearly a decade regarding harnessing the power of the Light Nexus for the purpose of mobility with their ilk was... Never.

Perhaps those Knights whose jobs demanded of them violence or protection could work with the women who called the Son a deity, but no Jedi in their right mind would willingly share this kind of knowledge with a witch.

Now would not be the right place to bring forth her concerns, however. Not when the dead and dieing lay beyond the Nexus atrium, waiting for word of their possible victory on Tanaab. Instead the Jedi would keep her tongue civil and silent... She needed to speak with her husband, and sometime soon she'd need to speak with the Lord Commander himself.

[member="Hashim"] | [member="Josiah"]​

 

[Josiah]

[member="Mara Denko"] | [member="Hashim"]​

Balanced. As all things should be.

Identically to his brothers and sisters in arms about him, Josiah listened intently to the words of their new leader. It seemed that, at least at face value, the man called Hashim was not blind to the plight of the Knighthood. He could see the pain which ravaged their numbers in the wake of the battles. And, he was looking towards the future to ensure that they were never in such a predicament again. The Jedi Master knew that there was no perfect solution for answering the problems of now, but separation from the military chain of command seemed to be a solid start. At least, in doing so, they would have a say in how they responded to the call.

It was what came next that aroused concern. Not from Josiah directly, but from the dark-haired woman at his side. Before he could blink, her hand found his. T'was if to take shelter from the reality that was unfolding before her eyes: the Archivists were to stand as One with the Mandragora. If it were not for Josiah's own personal experience, he might have been just as uncertain and just as terrified about the development. However...

A much younger Josiah once defended the first modern Confederacy. He did so alongside the order which predated the Knights Obsidian. In those days, he was commanded to stand alongside literal Sith - such as his old nemesis [member="Daxton Bane"]. He was commanded to look beyond the battles of Light and Dark and to see the greater good as the true goal. He knew of Mara's efforts. And knew how she saw the Dark Side. Josiah had the luxury of a decade, bucking and settling into a similar reality. Mara...had seconds. Regardless, he gave her hand a confident squeeze despite the fact that his gaze looked forward. No matter what the future held, they would face it. Together.

And when bid, the Jedi stepped forward in tandem with his wife. They took their place among the Masters called and awaited the next changes to unfold. Josiah could only hope that the next news would be heartening to his other half, and not the other way around.

 

[Daxton Bane]

The Force was a strange mistress indeed. When you think you understood it, she threw a curveball when you least expected it. Take for example his relationship with [member="Josiah"], a lot of bad blood and crossed blades had happened between them, yet despite there being no love lost, here they were brothers under the same banner, serving the same cause.

Had his reflective face place been transparent at the time, Daxton’s face would have been in bemused grin, as he watched from the shadows. Time had softened his old foe, that and the primal need for company and family. While the Sith Lord had no need for such base trivialities it did give him a sense of hope for the future. A future they were all building within the Confederacy that with time and patience would last for generations to come.

Instead Daxton remained the enigmatic Knight in pale crimson and purple highly polished armor standing among his comrades in arms, a reminder that despite their losses of late, the Order was still strong.

 

[Tallara]

Tag: | [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Hashim"] |
Location: Moorwood Peak, Tanaab, outside a medical tent
Equipment: Knights Obsidian standard armor, armorweave body glove, .48 cal Enforcer slugthrower pistol, DL-44 blaster pistol, songsteel vibroblade

Look more conspicuous, I dare you.​

Perhaps she could pass the time a little better than just sitting around. There might be a better spot to be standing -- well, sitting -- guard at than this random medical tent. She should find someone she recognizes; perhaps Hashim was nearby. Or at least someone to talk to. Even if it wasn't her strong suit, conversations sometimes pushed memories back into her mind, and that was something she tended to want.

Her tail pushed around the peak's dust and pebbles before she was approached by a small blonde woman. For a moment she wondered if the blonde was a child or teenager, but the closer she looked the more she could see and feel about her. Her eyes sharpened and senses tuned, and for a moment she could hear the howl of a wolf before it faded. Tallara studied the woman for another moment before speaking. "I'm fine. I wasn't here for the fighting, but I'm no healer or doctor, so I'm here." She shrugged. The light side nexus could do a lot for many in the Confederacy, but she often felt a twinge of discomfort whenever she was there. The dark side nexuses were the same. So she could only wait here while things wrapped up -- the higher-ups of the Knights Obsidian were here; she was supposed to get another assignment soon.

It wasn't soon after that she felt that tug in the Force that brought her to her feet, guiding her towards the gathered Knights in the courtyard. She ended up at the very back of the group, and could only barely see Hashim, but his voice could carry for miles. She was happy that the man had found his place -- change was needed, and she trusted Hashim to change the Knights Obsidian for the better.

-------------

Tallara was not the only Outsider to arrive at the Peak.​

As the new leader of the Knights Obsidian called forth the Masters, a cold wind swept through the courtyard, and even those who felt strongest in the light could feel the chill of darkness. A master of the Outsiders materialized at the front of the group, facing Hashim. The only thing that set the cloaked figure apart from a mass of pure shadow was the dim purple light emanating from the humanoid's mask. His head was half bowed, as if he was studying Hashim's boots. He said nothing, simply waiting to be addressed, his presence like a pocket of shadow in a well-lit room.

 

[Madalena Antares]

She'd arrived at the bonfire at last. Though Madalena had been certain that she'd been among the last to land, she had managed to arrive to the very front lines. Some people had moved aside, letting her through, and others followed suit. She recognized many of the faces now – faces she had been on missions with, faces she had led on missions.

Staring at the man who stood there, she did not recognize his face. At all. Frowning, Knight Commander Antares stood stiff and silent as she listened to his words, speaking of ending the system as it was known. While the bureaucratic changes had some merit to them, as she glanced at the crowd gathered, she knew most of them would not feel those specific changes on any tangible level. In many ways, that was good. It was change, yes, but it was change that would leave them the energies for the other changes that [member="Hashim"] would soon be speaking of.

And then came the three flames.

The tangible reform was announced. Again Madalena glanced ate crowd, trying to assess how the words were accepted. Many nodded approvingly. Good. This would make it easier. For herself, she did not care; most of her missions, save for the Mandragora specific ones in recent months, included mixed groups of Knights Obsidian. Whether they were three groups or five, Madalena's job would not change – she would still prioritize completing missions and bringing the boys (and girls) home in one piece whenever she could.

Some faces, she could see, were worried. While the combined groups shared certain mutual territory, there were still differences between them. They would have to learn how to work together – especially outside of missions. But still, she had little doubt that they could do it. These were her people. She had trained them for over a year by now, and she knew they were up for it.

For a moment, Madalena believed that this was it, it was done. They heard what they were meant to, and now they could go home. Ideally, away from this place, so that she could yank the collar off her throat.

Masters of the Knights Obsidian, Step Forward.

Blinking, Madalena stood there, uncertain whether or not that included her. Did that call include the Knight Commanders as well, or just the others? For once, she did not know, was unsure.

Silently, she moved aside, making way for those who already were masters but not Knight Commanders to walk forth. Her turn, if it existed, could come later.

 

[Alwine Daye]

[member="Tallara"]​

Alwine listened to the blue-skinned woman as she spoke, giving her a solemn nod. There were many gathered there today that were neither healers nor fighters. Some of the injured were far from being combatants; Alwine herself had an interesting conversation with one of the engineers that had gotten gravely injured during the construction of the FOB.

Opening her mouth to suggest that perhaps sitting outside of a medical tent might not be the wisest place to do that, both she and the girl felt the call. Alwine closed her mouth immediately, opting to not look like a fish, and nodded a second time. They would rise, and they would go. It was not as though they were given a choice in the matter; to ignore the call would bring in more headaches than was worth it.

Yet it seemed the other woman preferred to walk separately from her. The petite blonde shrugged, letting her go. Her gaze lingered them to the others who were among the crowd, her Force sense and gaze landing on her brother, [member="Gerwald Lechner"]. For a moment, she took a step towards him, wishing to stand close to her dalninuk, but she could already feel it from the distance – the rejection, the will to be alone. Alwine frowned. If he was going to start playing another one of his dumb games, she was going to take her shaving threat regarding him and make it real. Their family had suffered enough hardships since before leaving Stewjon – there was no need for him to make matters harder yet again.

But she would give him that day, even if just to see him moping around a touch less.

Silently, Alwine joined the gathering group. She spotted the blue-skinned woman at the back of it, but she could see nothing of what was happening in the front; at a mere five feet tall, everyone of age that did not belong to a midget-sized species or smaller was practically taller than her, some as much as several feet. But slithering through the crowd – she was good at that. Only once did she pause, to tap the woman on the arm to let her know she could come with her if she so wished.

And soon enough, she stood close to the front, chocolate brown eyes gazing as she took every word in, her mind reeling to form an Opinion™.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

"So many names within the galaxy, Vytal. So many names they have not heard of, nor have we." Pom had been told the unusual beliefs regarding how magick and the Force can be one in the same. What the Nightsister was taught was living back on Dathomir is believed to be simply a thing here in the rest of the galaxy. This thing involves physics of particles surrounding them, and the physiology of the living body. In short, the Nightsister eww up learning about her own effect on nature around her. But the Force operates on a far greater scale, the Universe. Nothing greater hit home to convince her that her logic is flawed, than this, her Dathomiri gods are bound to Dathomir. They were nonresponsive off-world.

Pom sighed as she was no closer to discussing her findings with [member="Vytal Noctura"] than before. She will not be the one to break her sister’s heart. Vytal must come to the conclusions on her own. And yet, she discovered a way to extract the great power of Ichor she needs from the living. It is not enough to sustain her needs. Pom wishes Vytal had not discovered this, feeling the temporary resolution will only stay her realizations that there is more to open her mind to. So much does Pom wish she could speak to Vytal, but she withholds because Vytal is not yet seeking what Pom herself is seeking. She would be unreceptive and cry heretic! Pomsty herself first thought her god would smite her, but he never cared to, because he could not. He could not even hear her after she left Dathomir. Someday Vytal too shall see and at that moment she will grow in understanding and her thoughts will open to all manner of possibilities that lay on the horizon of understanding.

As for the light and the darkness, to this Nightsister they are mere alignments of the soul. We are taught one or the other because of our origins. Some are amazing people who manage to wield both. Pom is very dark because her body cannot tolerate the light. In her mind this is no different than being born into the air, or as a beast of the water. We are that we are. We can be no different.

Regarding trust between the two likenesses however, that is individual and yet sadly likened views which many seem to share. There are exceptions like Argis Volmir, her Late friend. Wether one is able to let go of their preconceived notions is entirely subjective to their experience and their personality. As for Pom, it is becoming more and more evident that Argis was an exception for a Jedi. Simply, she does not trust them either, because they never approached her.

Months ago, she had been here and no Jedi came to her aid. She found Argis Volmir and they shared conversation. One out of hundreds. Everyone else ate and made merry. The opportunity to get to know one another was shoved to the wayside to make friends happy instead. Pomsty learned that if she needs help, no way is she going to rely on a Jedi to lend her aid.

As the new Lord Commander [member="Hashim"] made his speech, Pomsty glared in return. Are the Mandragora expected to share their sacred fortress with outsiders? “I entrust my future in no outsider!” she growled between gritted teeth. “They think they understand us? They never even walked with us!”

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal listened to this 'Hashim's' words. She did not understand where he began in worrying whether tomorrow would be 'Hell' as the surface of Tanaab had been by his measure. There was nothing to worry about. The Nightsister was confident she would survive; but if she did not then she would join the countless Sisters that had gone before her. The only fear she would have would be for the Sisters left behind and how they would fare in her absence.

Then the man spoke of something tangible Vytal could understand. The Knights had been beneath others, and now this Hashim sought to have them stand apart. Self-governing. This was an offworlder affair and so she would reserve judgment. Back home you did not cut yourself off from your Clan Mother. It was not done. Dathomir did not suffer the presence of fools or those too taken with infighting to see catastrophe coming. While she would not admit it, however, Vytal had done something of that very sort in the name of betterment. It had not been her Mother's will to seek out the power among the stars.

At the sound of thunder and with the flare of light, her back straightened a little more. The Force could do these things, but this display spoke to Vytal even just a little.

Ethereal? This word escaped Vytal's comprehension of offworlder tongue. At least until Mandragora and Archivist were mentioned. Ironic, she thought with a smirk on dark lips, that the Archivists now joined the Mandragora after the Nightsister had made the move first. They had Vytal studying minor relics at the time being new to the organization, so Pom's invitation and reassurance of the purpose of the other group had easily captivated the Nightsister's attention. There was a certain flutter, however, among the crowd--

Vytal blinked and turned to look over at [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] as she growled. The reaction was unexpected in its fervor, though not unusual for her Sister. "Pom, I was an Archivist when we met." She laid a hand gently upon Pom's shoulder. "They understand mystic arts of another kind. We belong together." Not that it would be a smooth transition. Why shouldn't the vessels of magick reside with the wielders of magick? They would be stored as securely as the many tomes in their possession, and shared among their kind just as diligently.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

The distance from Alwine was intentional. She would not understand he felt, and if he were to tell her his mood was because of a woman yet again? Gerwald could hear that conversation playing out, and he did not need what he perceived to be a scolding from his sister. In truth, he did not trust she would comfort him, nor understand the depth of the loss. While there had been other women in Gerwald's life, this had been different. Naedira was not a lover or a romantic pursuit. She had been his best friend, bonded by the force after a battle meld. It had been unexpected, something neither of them had anticipated, but it had occurred. Gerwald could not expect Alwine to understand the depth of that kind of bond, nor did he want to tell her it reached deeper than the bonds of family. That truth would have been devastating to her. The distance was as much to protect her as it was to allow Gerwald his loneliness.

In truth, Gerwald heard nothing of what [member="Hashim"] said. His mind had drifted off to his loss, consumed by every ounce of revenge he wished to seek. Yes, he refused to engage the group, and there was none in attendance which would manage to convince him otherwise. It was a dark place Gerwald currently existed, dark enough to make him do something stupid. Perhaps he should have been listening. Gerwald should have thrown himself into the Knights, their missions, and whatever else could distract him from the anger he felt at the loss.

His eyes fell to [member="Alkor Centaris"]. The man had failed to keep her alive. He told her to stay behind, he had told all of them to remain behind on the Fortressa. Gerwald blamed him as much as he blamed the killer, and one day he would tell the man. However, today he would stay silent. The right time would come soon.

[member="Alwine Lechner"]

 

[Rience]

The reactions to his words were Mixed.

For the most part, the Knighthood held their peace when the first reforms were uttered. His voice reverberated throughout the Atrium, only to be met with slight mutterings of his peers. A sweeping glance about the Knighthood saw that some nodded, others frowned - such was the nature of change. Yet one spoke above the crackling flame - one whose sentiment was surely not alone within the Knighthood. For but a moment, Hashim's gaze fell solely upon the one called [member="Pom Stych Tivé]. By her words, it was a safe assumption that she was among the Mandragora.

And for a moment, the thunder became smooth. Ferocity was not required here - but rather, understanding.

[CENTER][COLOR=#FFFFFF]"Here, there are [I]no[/I] Outsiders."[/COLOR][/CENTER]

[COLOR=#FFFFFF]"This Knighthood was born from every walk of life. From Jedi to Sith, Dark to Light, and every spectrum in-between. Despite this, we stand as [B]one.[/B] One Knighthood. One Family. Family seeks to understand and to bridge the distance one to another. It will be our mission to come to understand those we stand alongside, despite how different their walks may be. This, is my expectation and also my personal task."[/COLOR] Seeking to understand was certainly a task he would keep in the immediate future - [URL="http://starwarsrp.net/topic/147333-the-catacombs/"]especially alongside the Mandragora.[/URL]

With thus said, he motioned towards those who had stepped forward.

"Masters of the Knights Obsidian."​

"For too long, we have turned a blind eye to what it means to Master the Force. As a militant order, we placed emphasis on mission experience first - and thus the tutelage of our young and our new fell by the wayside. Moreover, as those who have walked the path of the Force and as an Obsidian, your voices were seldom heard. It is time that this reality comes to a conclusion. From thenceforth, each of you recognized by the Knighthood will have a seat upon the Masters Council. Here, your voice will aide in determining the direction of the Knighthood more than ever before. Here, we shall recognize new Masters of the Force."

"Yet with this emphasis will come new responsibilities for you all. Your might and experience in the Force is to be passed to the next generation as often as possible. Masters, I emplore you to seek out our apprentices and Squire them. Shepherd them into maturity as an Obsidian Knight. But do not stop there - mentor the Knights themselves. See to it that more attain the heights of the Force as you have."

Once more, he punctuated his speech with a gaze upon the room. Yet this time he was seeking two faces in particular. Prior to this day, the Dominus Prime led the Knighthood alongside two individuals: the Knight Commanders. What came next would affect them directly. He located @Madelena Antares towards the front and [member="Alkor Centaris"] entering only a few moments thereafter. He motioned to them specifically before continuing. "Previously, the duty of leading the Knighthood fell to three."

"Dominus Prime and aided by the two Knight Commanders. Yet, from this day forward, our number will increase to seven. As we no longer exist as an arm of the military, we shall partition the duties of leading the order to capable Masters of the Council. We seven, who will carry the greatest challenges of the Knighthood, shall move forward under the name Obsidian Lord."

"Elessar Talon shall be the final Dominus Prime - I shall lead you as Lord Commander. [member="Alkor Centaris"], Knight Commander, shall thenceforth lead as Lord Vigilant. I hereby task him with overseeing the training and education of all the Knighthood's squires and knights." And by extension, he would take ownership of the Academy on Haruun Kal. "[member="Madalena Antares"] will henceforth lead as Lord Marshal, the first of three. She shall stand as a General of our forces - the senior voice during our operations."

"Moreover, the role of Nightmother -" a word that carried significant weight in the Mandragora realm "shall henceforth serve as adviser to the Obsidian Lords and Masters Council. Finally, Lord Vizier shall represent the order as our political face and advocate." There was quite a bit to digest there - and Hashim fully intended for the Council to meet in the near future to decide who shall serve in the vacant capacities. Yet for now, he turned his attention to the freshly appointed Obsidian Lords. They had served the Knighthood closely and forged countless bonds. Thus, their words and thoughts would carry tremendous weight in the moment.

"Lord Centaris. Lord Antares. Address your kin."​

[member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Krystal Estain"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Mara Denko"] | [member="Josiah"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Tallara"] | [member="Madalena Antares"] | [member="Taramaz Laurs"] | [member="Gerwald Lechner"] | [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Áine"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Ashara Evanaris"]​

 

[Alwine Daye]

[member="Gerwald Lechner"]​

Alwine was not a Master of the Force. If she was even considered a Knight of the Force, she did not know, for no one had ever bothered to let her know. She'd ready about the advancement of ranks for those who wielded it, but it had never seemed important; not to her, and no to the Confederacy. And now that the changes were coming, now that the specific rank appeared to matter indeed, she knew it was not her place to demand to know what she even was. The new Lord Commander could do as he willed; as long as Alwine was not even sure that the Knights Obsidian was her place, she would keep her head down and follow the orders given. Beyond that, she was free to do as she pleased.

And what she pleased was now to go to her brother. She had been following him with her eyes these past few minutes, noting the language of his body, the look upon his face. It was on thing for her to be able to taste his pain from a distance, but it was quite another to see him like that in public. Usually, the Lechners were better at keeping things concealed. It was, after all, what they had been trained for their entire life. Shaking her head, the petite blonde began to elbow her way through the crowd, shoving people mercilessly aside so that she could reach her brother.

"Do not," she said as she stood in front of him, looking up into his face. She would not let her gaze run, or shy away. Her brother, much as she loved him, had a tendency to do things he ought to not. How much of their lives had he wrecked, either temporarily or permanently, with his actions? "Usstan h'ros morfeth dos telanth de' dosst jiv'undus ka dos xuat ssinssrin ulu," she said in the language that they had grown up on, knowing there would be no other Stewjoni around them that would understand the words, "Jhal usstan zhaun dos phuul bauth ulu xun folbol waele."

Sighing, Alwine reached out with her hand. He did not project that an embrace would be welcome, but despite her words, she did not wish to alienate him. "Do not break us apart again, dalninuk," she said softly, "It will kill me to lose you again."

Usstan h'ros morfeth dos telanth de' dosst jiv'undus ka dos xuat ssinssrin ulu = I cannot make you speak of your pain if you do not want to
Jhal usstan zhaun dos phuul bauth ulu xun folbol waele = But I know you are about to do something stupid.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom Stych Tivé answered Vytal after the new Lord Commander had spoken. “It’s about who the Mandragora are, Vytal. We don’t congregate with those who reject us in our own home! He doesn’t know us.” The world [member="Hashim"] spoke of was only a dream. “Do any of them even want to? The first or very last offense is having been asked here of all planets, with the Light Nexus. Our people will die because they were brought here. Look around you to what it does to our alignment; the very invitation is an affront to us,” she explained.

“The appeasing ideal of the CIS is localized. Yet still many of the Light act like their alignment is the correct one, the good side. Amidst the Mandragora we don’t address one another like this. Across the galaxy, those who never even met us, have us marked for eradication already.”

At that word, Pom Apparated. She traveled off in a trail of smoke. [member="Vytal Noctura"] could either follow or remain for the duration of the address. Pom felt like an outcast among the majority of these people. The home of the Mandragora is very different than any place the Knights shall ever see, if they ever cared to see, and the members created it as much as they sustain it’s wonder. It’s a castle forged in the power of its inhabitants and its gods. To this day no non-witch has ever entered.

Until the day comes when any non-witch truly befriends the Mandragora, members will always recognize the mark of indifference through misunderstanding.

There is a more pressing business to tend to, than stand around listening to fairytales of a perfect civilization. There are those wounded here who need to be evacuated. Pom would see to that.

 

[Tallara]

Tag: | [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Hashim"] |
Location: Moorwood Peak, Monastery, courtyard
Equipment: Knights Obsidian standard armor, armorweave body glove, .48 cal Enforcer slugthrower pistol, DL-44 blaster pistol, songsteel vibroblade

This gives me hope. Hashim will do well.​

Tallara had been mostly listening to the new Lord Commander speak. It was important to allow him to state the changes he planned to make, and she had enormous respect for the man himself -- it wasn't long ago that they had been on an assignment together, and she could still envision his hand pulling her out of the rubble all those years ago. It was apparent that not all held the same courteous nature. She could hear the exclamation of the witch further in front of her, but before she could move to silence the woman -- politely, of course -- she felt a little tap on her side from the small blonde woman who had approached her earlier. Tallara understood easily enough, and followed the woman through the crowd. Or at least she tried; by the time she'd reached the front the smaller woman had disappeared, apparently to berate a bearded man a little ways away.

It was awfully apparent to Tallara that she wasn't as up to date on the politics of the Knights as she'd like to be. She wasn't a Master, and she didn't know many; she'd never gotten to speak to either of the Knight Commanders. She'd spent most of her tenure as a Pathfinder in deep cover missions or long term away assignments. So then Tallara was only able to listen and watch -- Hashim was making changes, yes, but the galaxy was changing as well. She liked the idea of him leading them into a new age. The witches could hold their grudges or protest all they liked, but she knew the armored man would not waver. She was counting on it.

-------------

There will always be Outsiders.​

The cloaked man sniffed lightly. Despite the fluff and pomp that this Hashim had, there was an amount of substance that previous Dominus Primes did not have. Even so, the Outsiders would not change. Their goal was to preserve the soul of the Confederacy, and make sure its presence was felt across the galaxy -- Hashim could play protector all he liked, but the Outsiders would continue their work. They already trained their own, away from the eyes of the Obsidian, and it was appalling that they would leave the inexperienced without mentorship here. The cloaked figure's own master guided his actions to this day -- and thus he spoke, his deep voice commanding the ears of the Knights to listen to his declaration. "These changes are good. It is far past time the Knights stop relying so much on outside forces for guidance. Independence shields us from manipulation. The Outsiders stand with you, Hashim -- though I must request, of course, we are able to bring one of our own to the table of the Obsidian Lords." A thin smile formed under the purple-lit mask of the Outsider Master. The witch who'd just run off was a fool, as were the others. A simple few words of support would allow so many more opportunities in the future. It seemed that the Knights here needed a lesson in patience and planning. The Outsiders always thought long term.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Despite her small stature, Alwine knew how to make herself larger when standing to confront her brother. Usually Gerwald would roll his eyes at her admonishment, but for the first time in a long time he knew anything they could discuss would not be about the relationship with Scherezade or Katrine. Neither were in his life as anything more than a friend, and one was simply just gone.

Do not. The words were simple enough, and Gerwald knew exactly what was meant by it. He was not hiding his discomfort or pain, and Alwine knew more than any in the room what he was thinking or how he would react to it. Gerwald shook his head. It was rare Alwine told him to do something and Gerwald listened anyway. This time, he was certainly not going to. The news of what happened on the Fortressa during the Taanab invasion was common knowledge by now, it had to be. Alwine knew Knight Darcrath had been brutally murdered. It went beyond simply defending the ship, but crossed the line into something that seemed to be personal. Why? Gerwald would never know, but he would find the one responsible and make them pay, or die trying.

"Please. This time I cannot help you understand. Naedira is... she should be here."

They were simple words, words that had an edge to them as Gerwald's eyes moved from his sister to the man he held responsible for putting Naedira in the position which saw her untimely end. His eyes darted back to Alwine with a look of hurt, confusion, and pain, the likes of which she had never seen in his eyes before. Gerwald had never experienced this level of loss. A force bond had let him feel his best friend die, and Gerwald was supposed to reconcile it and move on. How?

"I can't just sit back and do nothing about it, Alwine. I can't explain it... I can't help you understand this time... but... this isn't like Stewjon. I don't even know who did it, but I at least have to find out who, and when I do... yes... I am going to do something stupid. I know you want to stop me, but please... don't."

[member="Alwine Lechner"]

 

[Vytal Noctura]

No outsiders? Vytal regarded this man that spoke with authority, that had laid claim to authority, and had assembled them all there this day to proclaim a grand vision using that authority; heedless of how others might take the news. It was still unusual to be led by a man, but the former leader had also been a man. Neither seemed to take it upon themselves to lay claim over the women, however. This offworlder tendency toward patriarchy was unfortunate, but at times serviceable. Only time would tell if they could measure up to that of a Great Mother, able to unify the discordant voices into one. As Hashim proposed.

To that, the man spoke as though he knew the Nightsister's thoughts. Nightmother was proclaimed an adviser to this Obsidian Lords and Master. Adviser, was it? It caused the muscles in the pale woman's body to tense. Then again, Basic was not her first language. Words had meanings and what context Hashim might have intended perhaps did not reach all in attendance. Or perhaps it had. It was these small things that always had Vytal on edge, perhaps too eager to correct perceived wrongs against her own.

Pom, however, took the first step forth. It was her passion that burned ever so bright and at times joined with her Sister's own that held Vytal's attention. And in that moment the passion expressed through another's mouth struck her ears in a strange manner. She did not disagree on any particular point. In fact, at times Vytal would be happy to be rid of outside interest in the magick of Dathomir; to have them leave the Nightsisters to their dark communion. Nevertheless, the words sudden struck head-on with the desire that had driven the Five into the stars against the wishes of their Mother.

"Pom," her Sister reached out knowing the rage she felt all too well. But the other Dathomiri woman vanished in smoke with her peace laid bare.

Black lips pressed together in that moment, fingers left momentarily in the void. She brought her hand down to her side as the tempest of thought and emotion swirled within.

A sharp tsk followed the words of another in the chamber.

Vytal turned sharply to face the assembled leadership. With a swipe of her hand the cloak of magick she'd thrown about herself was cast aside. Her physical form dropped half an inch as an intangible 'pressure' bore down on her here in the 'Light Nexus' as Pom called it. Heedless of its demand she depart as swiftly as the darkness had brought her there, the Nightsister strode forward. "The Mandragora will embrace these changes even if others do not," her voice carried. Exhaustion had already begun to creep around the pale woman's eyes having endured the fighting herself, conjured magick to heal the wounded or dying, and now stood here in the most unwelcoming of places. "We stand together, we fight together, and if the gods demand it, we die together." Was it arrogance to speak when the Nightmother was not there to speak for them? Perhaps. Vytal never described herself as a humble person. There was time enough to be humble when she was dead.

It was important that the Witches -- and Warlocks -- not help build the wall that so naturally came to people as Pom pointed out. They had enough enemies. Having protected four of her Sisters against the bleak of the galaxy, Vytal understood how hard it would be isolated from the rest. And how difficult a task to procure the many resources at the Confederacy's disposal if they spurned Hashim now. For there was an undying love of magick, yes, but also of knowledge of this Force and of their vaulted technology. They could not stand alone. If nothing else, Vytal would refuse to built the moat between them for nothing more than a selfish desire to protect those on Dathomir -- and to drive off the Sith if the worst of their reign were true.

Tag: [member="Hashim"] | [member="Tallara"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | Those Assembled

 

[Alwine Daye]

[member="Gerwald Lechner"]​

Yes. Alwine knew. And she knew of her brother's friendship with that woman. And still she did not wish for her brother to go and do something stupid because of it. She could understand his pain, she could understand his anguish, but she could not understand his need to do something dumb about it. Those were entirely different things to the youngest of the Lechner siblings.

"Let me help you," she beseeched him, trying to take his hand again, "Let us file for time off and go home, just us, and perhaps Varick if he is around. Let us go away for a while, until you are yourself again, dalninuk."

What else was there that she could offer him? It would do little good to put him in chains, and she was uncertain that she would be able to do so even if the situation demanded it. Of the three Lechner siblings, she had been the only one to be in them, and she couldn’t bear to think that any of her brothers, or any Lupine for that matter, would feel as she had during those months on Stewjon.

Her eye followed Gerwald's, and she looked at the man. Of course, like any other Knight Obsidian, she knew who her Knight Commanders were. Only a fool would not. And she narrowed her eyes as she realized that… Her brother blamed him? He might as well have blamed his co-commander, Madalena Antares. All of those who had gone to Taanab had done so following orders, for better or worse.

"You must stop breaking our family apart for the sake of women," she said quietly, "I understand that you hurt. But going off to do this… This is not the way. And you are right. It is not like Stewjon. It is worse, because now you should know better. You have seen what it does to us. When will you stop willingly breaking our pack, dalninuk?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

No matter what Alwine said, there was no way she truly understood. She wanted to, and Gerwald love her for it, but the thing Gerwald had felt, the emptiness it left behind, was something she could not know. It was deeper than the bond they shared as siblings, and Gerwald did not want to say those words knowing how hard it would hurt. Alwine feared that Gerwald was going to tear the family apart, but that was not his intention at all. In fact, he was going to come back. His eyes darted back to her when she dared accuse his intentions of being worse than Stewjon.

"How dare you," his whisper dripping with aggravation. "I am coming back. This is nothing like Stewjon because I am not abandoning anyone. I am simply finding who did this and making them pay. That is all I want..."

Gerwald sighed and pulled his sister close for a hug.

"This is nothing like Stewjon, and you cannot compare it. I know you mean well, and I know you want to understand, but you cannot possibly know how much it hurts. I feel as though something was torn out of me, that there is a void, and yet there isn't. I cannot explain it adequately. All I can do is ask you to let me do this... let me do something. Going home... it won't help. Her fingerprints are on Stewjon as well. Twice I was not able to help her during battle, and after Eshan I promised... never again... and now what... my best friend is dead because I could not keep a promise."

A single tear slid down Gerwald's face as he kissed his sister on the top of her head. He was not one to cry or allow his emotions to show in this manner. The pain was so deep however, he could not remain reserved for long.

[member="Alwine Lechner"]