Faction [GC/SO] The Golden Covenant

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora noted the way Darth Nwul ’s arm tightened a tad, the gesture pulling her attention to follow his gaze toward a rather sharp looking, pale beauty of a woman.

One to be wary of, then.

There were many to be wary of, really. The exiled Princess was adept at navigating formal social gatherings. So far, this night was identical to any gala attended by the upper echelon of Ukatian nobility. Titled nobles, military generals, and various members of the galactic aristocracy together in one room. Feeling one another out, schmoozing, building relationships. The only difference was the collectively towering presence of space wizards would could raze a planet with the snap of their fingers.

"A pleasure, Darth Xyrah . Your dress is…eye- catching ." Words she thought she'd never speak with a genuine note of pleasantry. With her free hand pressed over her heart, she offered the pretty Sith Lord a bow of her head, subtly arching a brow at Nwul's introduction of her and the fact that he'd brushed his lips against the young man's knuckles in greeting. "Not yet, no." She answered to his question regarding Marcus Dinn .

She blushed faintly at Nwul's complement, taking another sip from her glass. "Playing host suits you." She observed. "Events like these can be tricky to pull off. It can be a task to get your own aristocracy underneath one roof as a Princess. It’s an accomplishment in and of itself to achieve the same with…an assortment of individuals from across the stars." Cora swirled her flute idly, watching the pale liquid bubble and fizz. "Let's hope that there are no deaths tonight, hmm?" Her tone was light but measured, even if she was inching towards a boundary. Her faint smile curled upwards just a tic, a subtle indication that such events did happen during Ukatian galas.

Sometimes.

They drifted towards Shan Pavond , and as Nwul spoke, Cora reached out to touch the Mirialian's mind. No tricks, no telepathy, no subterfuge - just a gentle reminder that she was there. He'd been treated well, but Cora would ever be concerned for his safety. Part of they'd elected to stay in the lion's den was to gather information. The other part- well, that was personal.

Fortunately, Shan appeared well, at least outwardly. She would've rolled her eyes to Nwul's teasing had they been in a more private setting, instead she'd give only a subtle shake of her head. "Oh, ignore him." She murmured loud enough for only them both to hear.

The pair continued to float through the crowd, and Cora caught the bob of his swallow. Like any trained force sensitive in the room, she could tell that something was off. Nodding once, she turned her attention to Xyrah as their host disappeared for the moment. She took a moment to ruminate on how to answer his question, studying the Sith Lord's face. "That he is." She took a cursory sip from her glass. "Lord Nwul has seen that I am quite comfortable. You two seem rather close - old friends?"

Xyrah waved over an Amazonian beauty of a Twi'lek, to whom Cora smiled pleasantly in greeting, tilting her head. "Lovely to meet you, Lady Solus. You’ve a simply gorgeous name.”

I will say it is quite odd to find the light in a sea of dark

The blonde quirked an eyebrow, head rising as her smile thinned a hair.

"Lord Nwul has eccentric tastes. I find it is easier not to question them."

There was a cool, congenial rhythm to the way she spoke. Cora's gaze flickered to the ring on the woman’s finger, recognizing the stone as much as she did the nullified properties around Lady Solus.

It was pretty, certainly, but Cora despised voidstone. Horace had her wedding ring flecked with the mineral, suppressing her abilities to the point where she’d be unable to use them in any meaningful way. She recalled how, at a party much like this, he'd made her levitate a glass of wine in the air for the amusement of his friends. The cruel look in his eyes as she struggled to manage such a simple telekinetic feat with her skills nullified was something she'd never forget. That bitter thought drifted from her mind, her face and voice giving away no trace of distress.

"You, however, have quite the taste in jewelry! What a lovely ring that is." She cooed.

(Tag for Asaaj En Kelsani I couldn’t fit into the body of the post ty)

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Passion.

Strength.

Power.

Victory.

Freedom.


Concepts so integral to the Sith floated through The Shaper's mind as he sat within the palace of one Darth Caedes on Korriban. With his fingers steepled before him, elbows resting on the table, he swept his gaze over those assembled. First to his reckoning was the King of Korriban himself, the entity The Shaper surmised had the greatest odds of bringing the fractured allegiances of the Sith to heel. His opinions on the self-proclaimed "Sith'ari" were still forming, and quietly unto himself he bore much in the way of doubt toward Caedes's use of that old title. Nowadays, it seemed, it was fought over and scrambled for like the lone deathstick in a den of junkies.... passing unceremoniously from hand to hand until someone could grasp it long enough to use it. Whether or not there was some truth to Caedes's claim to the title remained to be seen, but The Shaper saw enough promise in him to offer his support. Caedes was, undoubtedly, more than he seemed. But did he have the ability to act on his potential? Only time would tell.

Second to his notice was Lady Zal Aditi who certainly held his interest. She was a skilled practitioner of his preferred arts, fostered and nurtured by Caedes with the resources afforded to him. Aside from this however the young Omwati was deadly, beautiful, and with a mind both voracious in it's desires and sharp enough to grasp anything presented before her. He would watch her career with great interest not only due to her immense potential but also to track her ambitions and learning, keeping a very close eye on whether or not Caedes was giving rise to a true apprentice or.... perhaps... a rival to be? Someone who would bleed his mind and spirit dry of all he knew before casting his carcass aside once she was done with him. Quite the interesting thought....~

Third for his eyes to sweep across were Marquee Elmindra Xitaar , a woman The Shaper was the least familiar with of those present, but one who he hardly needed to know prior to ascertain many things by her demeanor. Her bearing was proud, regal even, with a haughty and sharp countenance that was all at once deadly, dangerously brutal and as alluring as a swaying viper. No doubt the Falleen had bent many into nothing but obedient playthings, or prizes to be claimed at her leisure, but The Shaper could also detect that her bearing was not that of true nobility... not really. There was too much aggression, too much power, behind every motion her serpentine form swept those before her with. No. She was a predator in the skin of a sophisticated woman and she had his tacit respect for the passion that seeped into her every motion... for now... at least.

Finally, last and the opposite of least, was his newfound apprentice Madrona A’Mia and as The Shaper's eyes came to rest on his arboreal apprentice he met her eyes gazing right back at him. Naturally he did not flinch from her studious gaze, as it was only natural that her curiosity continue to grow, given that it was her curiosity about him that had lead to their newfound relationship in the first place. Naturally, as with the rest of those present, he was still formulating his opinions on the Neti, but had a better grasp on her than the rest. She was insatiable in a way that almost made him smile, almost, and to see her eyes alight at the sight of his Sorcerery had been akin to seeing twin suns birthed into existence. She was unorthodox, impassioned and curious, sharing that trait with Lady Aditi, and it was not until his eyes swept over the dress she had formed for herself that he slowly stood and moved to join the others.

He had promised them passage to the party they were to attend, in celebration of the rebirth of Thule at the hands of Nwul, the self-proclaimed Steward of the Dark Side whom had visited The Shaper previously, and he was only too happy to make the Steward's acquaintance again. Thus, naturally, he sought to make as grand an entrance as Nwul had made into his own palace not that long ago, though in his own way. Moving to stand before A'mia The Shaper would passively drink in the form she chose currently, steely eyes roaming over every leaf and bend she had crafted, judging her with the harsh scrutiny she would have to come to bear to be his apprentice. It was sloppier than he would have liked, and she had much to learn in the craft of shaping matter, but it would suffice... for now... but only because he had had no opportunity to instruct her yet.

As a point of instruction, pride and demonstration, The Shaper would wave his hand and mold his clothing with masterful accuracy and precision. Dark, soft fabrics would bend and weave themselves to his will, pattern-less and grey clothing twisting into vine and leaf motifs to match his apprentice. Grey coloration rippling and flowing like strobing lights as the color shifted into cool blues, blacks and winter colors. Matching his apprentice's appearance of autumnal grace and elegance with colder, cooler colors of winter and frost. Vines like grasping fingers encircling his form as small murals of nature being subjected to his will, of what A'mia could accomplish in time, were rendered in painstaking detail to flow across his chest, down his body, around his muscled abdomen and he would nod with a silent sense of finality to the action. His demonstration complete The Shaper would step away from A'mia, before Caedes and the others, and nod to the King of Korriban.

"As promised Lord Caedes, we shall be arriving to Thule in just a moment, with something of an entrance...."

Turning now to the nearest wall The Shaper would reach out to the Dark Side in a familiar motion as, once upon a time, he had moved his entire palace and legions of troops to an active warzone in a similar fashion. Granted the planet in question was much closer and it had nearly cost him his life, but given the smaller number of entities being moved and his now increased power, it was with an echoing hiss and masterful exertion through the Dark Side that the wall would begin to rent and flare apart into a burning tear in reality, a yawning darkness waiting beyond, and The Shaper's entire body tingled in exhilaration as it connected to the font of burgeoning darkness Thule had become. With that done The Shaper would step back beside A'mia and offer his apprentice his arm.

"On your lead, Lord Caedes."

Shaper was more than happy to let Caedes be the first entity through the portal, to let the spectacle lend itself to his credibility, before he stepped through with his apprentice.

Once within the portal a burning warmth would embrace all who entered, a corona to the void that subjected reality to the will of the conjurer, sending the five Sith parallel to the void, rippling with power and speed enough to feel as if they were passing near their own personal sun. Only for this portal to flare into existence on Thule amidst Darth Nwul 's get together. The flames of power from the portal licking their heels even as they emerged into the festivities.

There were many gathered here, from their lovely host and the woman ( Corazona von Ascania ) upon his arm to more familiar faces such as Darth Xyrah and Anak Darkstar and also completely unknown entities to him such as Kadann and even a small, sputtering little light in the form of Shan Pavond which piqued The Shaper's interest moderately. Nonetheless if any being wished to make his acquaintance he would oblige, but for now he turned to his apprentice and would whisper to her mind in a subtle murmur.

"Tell me, my apprentice, behind the façade of festivities and niceties, what do you see here?"


As his mind reached out to A'mia his physical body and voice, however, would turn to regard Lady Elmindra. His expression just ever so softly coy with the easy smile he wore, meeting the gaze of his Falleen counterpart with a pointed purpose as his voice mumured in a low, smoldering purr of a hint to be given.

"I daresay, Lady Marquess, that a woman of your refined stature will do well here."

With the Whilstones glowing proudly atop the crown he bore, the flaming corona of his power that had brought them here still clinging to the hem of his cloak in pure expressions of the Dark Side, underwrote by the cool, dark winter colors of the robes themselves, he felt pleased enough with the presentation of the entrance he had provided them.

 

[Darth Valor]

Darth Valor, attuned to the ebb and flow of the Force, noticed the entrance of The Shaper and his apprentice into the Sith gathering. The Shaper's grand display of power and the subsequent whispers he exchanged with his apprentice didn't escape Valor's perceptive gaze.

As the enigmatic Sith Lord approached, Valor inclined his head in a subtle acknowledgment, a silent recognition of the power and presence that accompanied him. "The Shaper," Valor spoke in a tone that carried a hint of respect, acknowledging the reputation that preceded the Sith.

"Your mastery over the Force is evident, a spectacle worthy of admiration," Valor continued, his crimson gaze meeting The Shaper's with a measure of intrigue. In the world of Sith, where power was both currency and weapon, Valor was always keen on recognizing potential allies or, if necessary, formidable adversaries. The dance of Sith politics unfolded, and every move mattered.

Arctus Silmar

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Esstran Sector
• Korriban
• Vardin Palatial City
• Tags— Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | Darth Nwul | Arctus Silmar | @Madrona A'Mia | Kyraj

Something shifted deep in the Sith Lord's mind, and Caedes smiled at the reflection he saw in the mirror. It had been a great long while since he'd felt those muscles move in that way, realizing all over again that he'd forgotten the sensation entirely. The shapes it played across that face staring back at him made the reflection look as if it may as well belong to someone else.

I look beautiful, he thought to himself for the first time in decades. Beautiful and terrifying.​

Across from him, caught in the grand display of a massive mirror, positioned as if thrown and shattered into place against a rough-hewn, black stone wall, the reflection of Darth Caedes was a spectacle of finery and fire. As if having just emerged from a pool of water, his hair was oiled back, skin slick, the intensity in his molten gaze momentarily pacified by the foreign and drowsy feeling of satisfaction. Clad in decorative and meticulously crafted, black leather armor, made such that one could peer through the thin, crystalline material of the garment's chestplate, he could see the smooth and unblemished musculature of his own torso, and the slippery human-like flesh of a skin-shifter. Roiling in his core as if from the glow of an inferno, light pressed up against the skin of the Sith Lord's abdomen and shone through, riding the lines of his skeleton up through his chest and even into the architecture of his neck and face. His collarbones were framed by translucent and asymmetrical pauldrons, built as if from shadows made of glass, and shimmering with that same molten glow as within. Slowly, he reached to touch one cheek, and then the other, his expression one of transfixed wonder.

But this was not all Darth Caedes could see in that great mirror, and nor was he indeed alone here. Where he stood a solitary figure in one of Vardin's many vast and unoccupied palatial chambers, his reflection was accompanied by the obscured visage of a naked woman wearing a severe expression and a torrent of thick and swimming, wet, black hair. She clung to him as if in the loving embrace of a doting mother. Craning her neck so as to reach around to the ear of her Lord from behind, the black-eyed creature whispered unknowable words and stared back out at the real Sith Lord from behind the reflection of his own shoulder. Ravenna, she called herself. Ravenna, the Voidgaze. The ensorcelled soul of some ancient Sith Lord; Jen'rusalka, one of Caedes' own creations, and the very one who had helped to dress him this late into the evening.

As she whispered, clutching possessively with spider-like fingers at the reflection of his jawline, the heat at his core surged to glow more brightly, more hot. Distantly, Caedes thought that he felt a pain in his chest, but it was easily dismissed from within the numbness of contentment. The woman in the mirror grinned as she whispered, her gaze pregnant with hidden meaning. Abruptly, the skin of Caedes chest split and peeled open, becoming transparent one rib at a time, spreading, licked away as if by tongues of flame from a fire which built him in the place of ordinary muscle and bone. A cackling, netherwordly blaze. A frenetic storm of dark power he had never learned how best to outrun. It burned in him and he let it, but his smile never wavered.

Yes, he thought. I like that. Beautiful and terrifying.​

​

• Vardin Palatial City
• Afterwards...

"As promised Lord Caedes," said The Shaper, "we shall be arriving to Thule in just a moment, with something of an entrance." ​

Darth Caedes nodded and clenched his teeth, muscles firing along the slick line of his jaw, his skin appearing wet to the touch.

"Gratitude," he replied, and signaled his readiness with a simple gesture.​

• Esstran Sector
• Thule
• Rivobam Jungle | The Restored Palace
• Color Code: 028dc1
• Tags— [ Open ]

Darth Caedes emerged from the Shaper's sorcery with a cocked head and a curious expression. His stomach churned and his skin prickled against the heat of such a power, eyes alive as they scrutinized their new surroundings. On his right arm rested the venerable Elmindra Xitaar, Captain of the Kainite Order's Sutta-class Omen, Sith Knight, and Marquee of Falleen Throne. On his left leisured Korriban's Voice of Hunger, Zal Aditi, the exotic Omwati, like himself, a representation of the Ritual at Thule's transformative abilities. Almost now the avian Apprentice appeared as if Sithspun to her own specifications, optimized, a nimble and beautiful killer, her's a predatory and subtle tremor in the Force around them. ​

 

[Elmindra Xitaar]

Esstran Sector
Korriban
City of Vardin

Marquess Elmindra Xitaar stood among her council of lords in their palace on Korriban, awaiting the one called The Shaper to perform on his promise of transporting them to the gathering on Thule. His demonstration of shaping his appearance, as if weaving reality, was made more impressive by the casual way he wielded such potent mastery of the Force. However, that little display was but a flicker of candlelight against the inferno of energy that erupted from the nearby wall as space and time was warped by his will. She was suddenly reminded that this entity was more an object of myth and legend than a mere Lord of the Sith. She was reminded that he was indeed an emperor of old, one of the few whose power and leadership had reshaped the course of history, even if it was long before her time.

As The Shaper fell into step with his apprentice, the towering Neti, A'Mia Madrona, and aquessed to take the lead of their King Ascending, the Falleen woman's crimson gaze settled on Darth Caedes. Despite the maelstrom of power all around them, his presence in the Force still dominated her awareness. She stepped up to take his arm before they stepped through the portal. Her firm possessive touch would be felt by him more than seen by others, a kind of controlling yet bolstering reassurance that he was not alone in this and that she would be there, as she had been countless times before, to ensure the deception of his sanity was successful. Her pheromones washed over him, intoxicating him with an ease and confidence that would bolster against reactions that might trigger his madness.

Despite her station of Sith Knight, Elmindra held herself as a queen might, with the bearing of absolute superiority. Her dark gown was immaculate in the way a piece of art was, her aesthetic a sinister and alluring visage of clean lines and sharp edges intended to draw the eye in the way a predator might. Black fabric clung to her lean torso, an intricate pattern resembling a centipede that grew widest at her bust stretched the length of the bodice from the high collar to the point at the base of her pelvis. More of the same black fabric draped like billowing sleeves from her shoulders, their broadness accentuated by her pointed decorative pauldrons, and down around her long legs to the floor. Her back was left exposed save for a long column of gold gilded bone adhered onto her green skin like an exoskeleton spine, each vertebrae sharpened and protruded like vicious fangs. Her long raven hair was done up and shaped into two symmetrical ridges, like the unfurled hood of a reptile, as if her hair was a continuation of the subtle ridges of her forehead.


Esstran Sector
Thule
Rivobam Jungle
The Restored Palace

As Elmindra passed through the fiery portal, she used the flames of power and shaped an illusion of their radiant energy into her appearance so that they might provide a contrasting inner glow to accent her dark aesthetic that would match Lord Caedes. Once through the portal, her large crimson eyes, their keen intensity accentuated by dramatic makeup, surveyed the room with cold efficiency. She looked sidelong at The Shaper as he addressed her. Then, slowly, she smiled back at him, nothing coy about her imperious expression.

"An apt observation, my Lord," she said with no small amount of conceit. Her gaze took on a hunger, sliding from him back out into the crowd as if this was indeed her hunting ground of choice. She sought out to meet the eyes of the host, Lord Nwul, and afford him the first opportunity to welcome her as was proper.

"The power of our alliance is undeniable and I believe our presence here tonight will leave a lasting impact." Her declaration was made in response to The Shaper but it was intended to be heard by Lord Caedes and the others as well.

"I look forward to what the night has in store for us.”

Darth Caedes | Arctus Silmar | Zal Aditi | Madrona A’Mia

 

[Marcus Dinn]

"T'was no trouble, Mister Dinn. I am pleased I could grant such to one so deserving."

“You do not know me, Your Majesty,” Marcus said. Not irritably or mockingly, but with simple honesty. “How can you make such a judgment?”

"Oh, do you know each other?"

"Not yet, no."

“I know her name, and not much else,” Marcus explained. There were hints as to why Corazona, a Jedi, was attending a gathering of Sith, but much remained mysterious. Was she Nwul’s hostage, or his guest? Had she been captured, or did she come willingly? He suspected not even Lady von Ascania herself knew for sure.

Marcus could sympathize with that ambiguity. It wasn’t so long ago that he had fallen under the sway of Eshara, the Goddess of Desire and Madness. Seduced by her beauty and the freedom she represented, he had allowed her to abduct him to her castle, leaving behind a terrible mess in his wake. His sister had rescued him, drawing him out of his obsession, but the whole affair had taken its toll.

“Try not to fall in love with him,” Marcus said suddenly, addressing Cora. “It won't end well.”

"Young master Dinn, we can talk about oaths and commands later. Enjoy yourself, how long has it been since you've relaxed?"

“My life thus far has been little but relaxation,” Marcus replied. “I long to serve, to work and make something of what I have been given. Though you are a most generous host, my only request of you is that you give me a worthy quest to complete.”

Alas, Lord Nwul was called away to attend to other matters. He left Corazona in Xyrah’s care; the golden Zambrano called over a friend of his, a green-skinned Twi’lek woman, who brought with her a red-haired witch. Marcus began to grow weary of the crowd, and took their arrival as his cue to depart. “Be well, Your Majesty. My lady.” He bowed a final time to Xyrah and Cora, then left them to their conversations.

Darth Nwul Corazona von Ascania Darth Xyrah Stardust Solus Skirae Asaaj En Kelsani​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It was always his way to leave the best for last.

And though of course, others might arrive now, it seemed those of most importance had already come. The players took their places on their board, yet the game could not commence, without the last of them.

The main doors screeched open, and out of them emerged, the House of Marr.

"Presenting, Alexandros of House Marr, Head of His House, and his lady wife, Katerina of House Marr." The herald, who was among the party of the family announced, the husband and wife surrounded by the black armoured members tinged with the red of the Marr Household Guard.

Of course, the darkness of the armour only made the expensive clothing of the couple Marr, evermore highlighted. Where most strutted about with the expectations of the host, in golds and reds, the Marrs had arrived...

Wearing black.

​

It had been his request, one which his father had opposed, but he had been able to convince otherwise, after all, for all his father was, Malum had long since surpassed him, and he no longer feared to make that felt.

"And their daughters, Caecia, Sophia, Elise, and Julia, all of the ancient, and noble House of Marr." The herald continued, as both his elder and younger sisters followed out their parents, a mix of haughtiness, smiles, nerves, and disinterest, were fixed firmly upon their faces, their ruby eyes, glowing, as their dark locks flowed freely, down their faces.

And they too were wearing black.

It was not all black, admittedly, for all of them, they too wore red. The colours of their house placed prominently above any request by any host.

Yet that was not why Malum had requested it.

He had requested it, seen fit to deck his family in darkness for a singular purpose.

To show they were in mourning.

All the attendants here decked themselves out in gold, a symbol of this Golden Age which Nwul had proposed to them all. Yet Malum had decked themselves in black, a symbol of death, that it would be death that this enterprise would cause, nothing but death. He had fought in two civil wars, he had no desire to fight a third, not... when their true enemy was near.

"And their ward, Cillara of House Hilexis, Apprentice to Darth Malum."

If there was one benefit to this gathering, apart from it being an excuse to drink his woes away, was that it allowed him to introduce Cillara Hilexis to the wider Sith Order, all would know now that she was his apprentice, and they would no longer need to keep this secret. Which for him, meant he no longer had to continue to split his mind... the small victories.

They would whisper, wondering why he had found an apprentice so quickly after his promotion.

Those more curious might dig further, wonder how he had found the scion of House Hilexis, a house that had burned when Terminus had.

They could wonder all they wanted, they could whisper all they wanted, none would put it into action, none would confront them, for if they did.

They would have to be silenced, oh and how he would be so glad to.

He swirled the goblet of red liquid around its rim, taking an enjoyable taste, as he gazed around the room. There were some he knew, most that he did not. Alina Tremiru, the one with some sort of relationship with Ali, he had heard rumours of her death, but those were clearly false... though her eyes spoke of the fact that they may have not been entirely false. Was her return a good thing? They had not exactly gotten on well the last time they had met, yet he would not have said she hated him.

Quite the bar, he knew.

Who else, there was Darth Xyrah, consort of the failed Emperor, the one who seemed almost entirely bathed amongst droids. He did not know them well, yet they had a fair few encounters, Eliad, within the Malsheem, and if what would come to pass on Fiviune would come... Darth Xyrah would have to be his link to the Kainites.

There was also Lady Venge, a friend, rather eccentric if memory served, another figure he met on Eliad, and one whom he had aided on Darth Xyrah's yacht, ironically enough. It was humourous in a way, how the threads of fate seemed to serve to bring them all together.

There was that Dinn boy as well, he had never met him per se... but the last name reminded him of a certain couple.

There was that Jedi, Cora... Cora something. Ah yes, Corazona von Ascania. Princess of Ukatis, a Jedi, a Padawan of the Grandmaster of their Order, to be exact. Admittedly, he did not know her very well, after all, he had been far more concerned with the Jedi Knight he had duelled upon Exegol that day, hopefully, they would have a better encounter this time. He had some questions to ask the padawan, the most important being why she was here at all.

Then perhaps the most worrying figure who had made their way here. The Shaper, his entrance was as explosive as one would expect of a former Sith Emperor. Yet, it was his appearance at all, that Malum found most interesting, whomever had a former Emperor on their side no doubt had something worth hearing. So had he prostrated himself before those which Malum had never known about before this invitation? In that case, maybe he should take this little gathering a little more seriously.

Or maybe he would not, after all the drink was far more interesting.

It was the opportunity to drink after all, which had convinced him to accept the invitation. It would be the final such opportunity before what would no doubt be the most difficult encounter of his life. Far worse than his defeat upon the Malsheem, far worse than his meeting in Alvaria... Fiviune would no doubt make or break him.

Such was the price of betrayal.

So he had taken Nwul's invitation, so he had feigned interest when his family had contacted him with invitations of their own. So he had planned this little jaunt, and taken it a little more seriously, for it had quickly become extremely apparent... this was far bigger than simply some party.

"And finally, the heir of House Marr, the apprentice of Darth Ophidia, and the conquerer of Alvaria, Darth Malum."

He allowed the cloak to fall off him, as he stood up from the seat.

He had sat among them for hours, watching, listening. For, what was the point of a party, without some reconaisance?

None could see the apprentice of Darth Ophidia, unless he had wanted it.

Where some favoured the explosive, the bombastic, he had favoured the regal, the dignified.

Or so he told himself, as he stepped forward, having noticed Nwul leave for the balcony some time ago.

" Corazona von Ascania ... if I might be so bold, might I ask for a dance?" He smiled a smile, as charming as it was ravenous. As he narrowed the distance, and found himself among a party of nobles.
​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

A'Mia Madrona

​

Nearly seven feet tall and statuesque, The Shaper's apprentice seemed to drift ethereally beside him as she took his arm and followed through the portal. A'Mia's visage still proudly bore some of the effects of the Cleansing of Thule in the sheer mass of her shapeshifting form. Whereas typically she wore guises to seem as near human as possible, tonight A'Mia was making no attempt to fit in and her look prominently featured her Neti heritage.

Along her towering form plant life from many worlds had been seemlessly grafted to her skin, forming a verdant dress. Her bodice was notably made from Tragia leaves which hugged her shapely body and created a mantle about her shoulders. The symbolism of featuring such a medicinal plant would not be lost on anyone with any kind of botanical knowledge. Her bodice faded into an intricate weave of vines at her hips which were interspersed with other rare or interesting plant species. A'Mia's normally red-brown skin had been augmented for the occasion with the help of her Master, giving her a golden brown glow in the places her body was not resplendent with foliage.

She appeared as if underwater, long hair trailing up and behind her as she moved, the train of her living gown floated with Wroshyr tree seedlings growing out of the ends. It was as if the would be giants reached for the sky and buoyed the long fronds of the dress ends when in reality they were merely an extension of her many limbed form. Half hidden within the folds of the dress were various bioluminescent flowers and mosses so when she entered areas of low light, the gold-brown of her bark like skin shone faintly with an eerie glow.

Poola blossoms were nestled beside Kwazel candy flowers, the snaking vines which gave structure to the petals of her skirt were lined in some places by subtle splashes of glow-lichen. As she drifted forward and moved about with no discernible gait, it looked as if she was floating. Any plant life present in the palace seemed inextricably drawn toward her and when she came close enough, plants would suddenly flower of their own accord, stalks grew taller, and new leaves sprouted as if her very proximity willed them to do so.

"Tell me, my apprentice, behind the façade of festivities and niceties, what do you see here?"

A'Mia needed a moment to register her Master's subtle touch on her mind, so overwhelmed was she by the great crowd they'd just become apart of. Her large, pupil-less blue-green eyes grew larger as countless energetic fields caught her attention all at once.

"So many-" she began in response, ponderously and enigmatically answering his relatively straight forward question.
"The weave here is so tangled, lines of fate- of what could be and once was all together…"

She straightened up even more, elongating her neck imperceptibly as if that might allow her to take it all in better. Finally she was able to provide a more appropriate response to her Lord Master as she took in the overwhelming presence of so many people.

"Tension. Anticipation. Those who seek glory, those who leech greatness from others and those who are mighty in and of themselves. I will need time."

The tone of her mind was almost apologetic as her gaze swept over the masses again to take them in with an intensely focused solemnity. Her long, slender fingers tightened faintly on The Shaper’s arm as if she was anchoring herself.

Arctus Silmar
Darth Caedes
Elmindra Xitaar
Zal Aditi

 

[Alina Tremiru]

We'll sans this post.

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Esstran Sector
• Korriban
• Vardin Palatial City
• Tags— Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Nwul | Arctus Silmar | Madrona A’Mia

Zal Aditi lounged against the ornate railing of the balcony in the palace at Vardin as the rest of the party gathered in the chamber behind her. Soon they would depart for Thule and Nwul's victory gala. Her sharp eyes gazed unseeingly across the city as she turned the recent events over in her mind. Thule... the display of power had been a mighty one, and undoubtedly the impact of the magics they had raised would ripple across the galaxy, pulling the balance of influence inexorably towards the Dark. It was key to the larger goal of offsetting the Light Side's domination; still, the Omwati was unsure whether or not she approved of the way the planet had been so deeply changed.

As was her practice, she had spent some weeks on the planet preparing for the operation. Thule had been a barren world, a carcass picked clean of life by too many scavengers. Any native species had long since perished, victims of centuries upon centuries of violent ambition. Still, there had been a beauty to the quiet desolation of the black, sandy hills. She had spent long and silent hours wandering the obsidian wastes, the blackness of the night broken only by occasional patches of bioluminescent moss that clung to the stone, slowly digesting it into soil and sand. In the windstorms, multicolored lightning had danced between the spires and through the canyons. Here in this empty landscape, alone but for the echoes of ghosts and the fierceness of the winds, Zal had been strangely at peace.

Now life flourished on the planet, and the ghosts were gone, their essences ripped apart to feed the strange and marvelous jungle of plants that Nwul's black rain had produced. Thule, grave of countless conquests, had been reborn. Wondrous though it was, she could not help but feel a private sense of loss.

Still, the change had happened, and the power of the ritual had left its mark on her as well. She straightened, rolling her shoulders, feeling the feathers shift against each other as she moved. She was taller now, well over 6 feet, and her elongated neck and limbs shimmered with a coating of fine, translucent feathers. Longer plumage lined the back of each arm. Her talons had grown large and bestial in the ritual, but she had since used her Alchemical skills to refine them, restoring the slender dexterity of the digits.

She turned as the others entered the chamber, the long plumage on her head lifting slightly in alertness. Her hair was much more feather-like now, thicker, and black at the roots where the spikes she had braided into her hair had melted under the ritual's power and melded with her scalp. Dappled dark spots framed her hairline, spilling lightly onto her brow and cheekbones.

She approached, circling around to Caedes' left side as she watched The Shaper shift his garb with a wave of the hand. The casual display of power was a potent reminder of how much she had yet to learn. The fact that so legendary a figure had made the choice to ally himself with Darth Caedes was no small indication of her master's growing power and influence.

Her own party apparel was a nod to Thule itself. Her long black cloak swept the floor as she moved. The buttery-soft black fur was full and luxurious, the neckline wide and carved low in back to frame her shoulderblades. Black opals and fire obsidian glimmered in an intricate necklace and spilled down from earrings that accented her long and graceful neck. She had dipped her talons in a paint made from the bioluminescent moss, and they glowed a cold blue in the chamber's dim light.

As the portal was ripped open, she reached out in her mind, summoning her Tuk'ari attendants. Three of the sithspawn left the shadows, moving silently to stand at the party's back. Light rippled briefly through her feathers as she touched the Force to call to them. She raised her hand, taking her master's arm to signal her readiness, and stepped through spacetime to the gala.

 

[Romé]

WEB OF SNAKES
~Her the heron huried away~

WEARING: x
PROXIMITY: Corazona von Ascania | Darth Xyrah | Darth Malum of House Marr
ENGAGING: Kadann

​

THULE, ESSTRAN SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

"And their ward, Cillara of House Hilexis, Apprentice to Darth Malum."

I could feel the glare of a hundred guests of the ball; Warriors, Aristocrats, Sorcerers, scheming Imperials, the warm blooded and the cold blooded brethren of the Sith Order, as I strutted past the main door, right behind Lord Marr and his family. Whispers, judgments, appalls, all can be observed in their daunted gestures, but most of all, fears. Fear of a new soul amongst them, an apprentice to a newly knighted Sith in the flesh. Fear of the conqueror of Alvaria. Fear of a Sith cultist, so devoted, so resolute in his belief. Fear of a fallen Sith Emperor amongst them, and a failed one far beyond sight. Fear of an upstart Lord, the host of the ball, climbing the ladder of the order so quick, so hasty. But most of all, fear of the inescapable gaze of the Dead God, the ever observing, omnipotent eye of the dark, looking to decapitate one snake, on to the others.

A color is not just a color, it's an agent of revelation, evoking feelings in the bystanders, a subconscious sign of what to come. Black, the lords and heirs and wards of House Marr are draped in, for we are mourning. Mourning the inexplicably gruesome fate that the benefactors of this ball, Lord of Passion Darth Nwul , and his accomplices, will have to endure once the Dead God is done with whatever occupies his being now. Perhaps the color black also represents assurance, that the Marr will never bend their knees to this Golden farce, nor collaborate in any meaningful way, not when the heir just barely escaped the wrath of the Dead God.

On the balcony, Lord Nwul has taken his station, leaving his companion, the young debutante Corazona von Ascania with the spouse of the failed Emperor, Darth Xyrah . Such is the politics of the Order, a web of snakes and spiders, weaving lines between dots, patching holes of threats and tearing walls of stasis. A show of strength, a brave venture on all sides. Amidst all this, it seems that Darth Darth Malum of House Marr has piqued his interest in the fallen noble and Jedi. His ravenous smile and fervid gaze are not unfamiliar, often phasing in and out in the seldom visit he made the past year. Whatever the nature of his interest I can only guess, yet I am certain it is an accurate impression of the situation. It's not one I can bump in without ruffling his feather. Staying with the Marr isn't an option either. Everyone knows that the old man is far beneath the heir, so he shall be far beneath the heir's apprentice as well. In my name lies a dead royal house, and in my body and mind lie dead men's souls written in cursive, an ever evolving ur-Kittât rune carved on the skin, in the flesh, mind, and soul. They are far beneath the heir of the heir.

Mingling, it shall be. The high ranking lords are occupied in politics of the highest eminence. I shan't push myself there, presenting myself as too eager, as a tasty prey. It's the observant eyes on the corner I shall approach. Amongst the potential target, a man of old age, Kadann , of a force ambience that doesn't belong, of a pair of eyes that jeered upon the crowd. Not a noble and not a dark lord. Yet beneath his eyes is a thousand years of agony. "Amongst the sorcery and necromancy of the Sith, plenty in this room, yours is the closest to death, my lord. Cillara of House Hilexis." Introducing myself, I extended my arm, offering the grizzled old man to take my hand. There is something in this man that makes me gravitate towards him. Perhaps its fear, or the lack thereof. Fear that once was there. Or perhaps it's just a false lure, that I misjudged the cover. Either way, he is still a book I'm adamant to decipher.
​

​

 

[Kadann]

"Amongst the sorcery and necromancy of the Sith, plenty in this room, yours is the closest to death, my lord. Cillara of House Hilexis."

"I am no Lord," he said quietly. He took the offered hand and barely brushed his lips and beard against them. He stood tall over the young noble and had to hinge at the waist and bow down to the hand.

Kadann held no fear of these people, but in a den of sorcery and necromancy it still paid to be cautious with every gesture.

He didn't let the confusion he felt flash across his face. It was impossible to walk through the Force without leave a ripple in one's wake, but Kadann had carefully crafted defences around his mind.

He supposed he was a curiosity, an unknown. However, he had hoped to go mostly unseen by the crowd today. Carrying out a simple duty of watching for any escalations of tension.

"A shame to hear how close to death I am...Lady Cillara," he said carefully. She had offered no titles, but he did not want to offend. "I had hoped I might keep on for a few years yet."

A hint of a sardonic smile let itself be shown through his thick white beard.

 

[Romé]

WEB OF SNAKES
~Her the heron huried away~

WEARING: x
PROXIMITY: Corazona von Ascania | Darth Xyrah | Darth Malum of House Marr
ENGAGING: Kadann

​

THULE, ESSTRAN SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The man might not be a noble, but the way moved his imposing body to greet me, the way he grazed his lips on top of my bare hand, and the way the nobility title he elected to call me by rolled off so smoothly off his tongue, is an indication that he has worked with the upper echelon of the galaxy for a considerable amount of time. A rogue knight, perhaps? Either way, the man is not a mere servant, he is here because someone out there entrusted their endeavor to him. "A name to call, then?" I asked him, before taking a sip of the red in my glass.

Hearing the cynical tone in his voice, I let out a chuckle while studying his face from a feet under. Not the spiritual type, I guess? "I am not a seer, I fear. Navigating through the webs of time-dimension is not a gift Bogan granted me. I simply… guessed, venturing into those eyes of yours." What I saw was the death of his soul, of his life purpose, not the physical manifestation itself. It's a galaxy where your body and consciousness are two separate entities, after all. The Emperor is the very example of such, deformities. Whether the man really thought that I was talking about his literal death, or whether he knows something that he's trying to hide, that's the fun part. "Walk with me? Or are you occupied with some tasks from your overlord?" I raised my eyebrows at the gentleman, asking him if he wanted to have a further discussion on the nature of death, without looking like scheming agents, just standing in a quiet corner.
​

​

 

[Darth Nwul]

OOC: Unfortunately, Anak Darkstar is no longer participating in the thread and is leaving the position of Lord-Master of the Knights of the Covenant open. He's asked me to find a successor asap. We wish him the best.

---

Nwul stood where the two men were about to fight, sensing the eyes on him. The eyes waiting to see just how the self-proclaimed future of the Sith would handle infighting. He kept his expression calm and relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips as the two men bowed, inclining their heads and offering contrition. Nwul smiled with delight, this was what he wanted. To prove that the Sith were more than squabbling children.

To prove, that they were worthy of prestige.

That was what was missing from the Empire. What it lacked. A unifying culture and sense of prestige and pride. He allowede his arms to slip behind his back without thinking and raised his head high, smiling at the two men, his molten gold eyes twinkling as he stepped past them to the balcony overlooking the assembly.

Kadann remained concealed in darkness. His movements shadowy and unknowable to most. Nwul appreciated his presence though, his critical eye was valuable. Lady Venge and the strange being that confronted her seemed to be reaching a conclusion in the drama. Good. Right on time. Darth Xyrah was seeing to Corazona von Ascania 's safety. Another relief. Shan Pavond was talking to Ravenna Sarn. The mighty twi'lek, Stardust Solus Skirae maintained her own vigil. After she'd been invited into the knights that rainy day, Nwul hoped she would be one to rise above the others.

After all, he aimed for a meritocracy. The leader would earn their position.

Alina Tremiru was billowing with a mixture of what felt like annoyance and disgust. Nwul smiled directly at her, his love of mischief not lost on her.

That was when the guests he'd been waiting for began to arrive. Arctus Silmar lead the way fabulously and Nwul practically jumped for joy as the portal that opened revealed more than just The Shaper. Darth Caedes arrived, his body practically glowing with the gifts he'd gained from Thule and his own growing mastery. Zal Aditi and Elmindra Xitaar accompanied him on each arm, escorting the King of Korriban.

He watched Marcus Dinn depart, he would have to speak with the young man later.

Then another presence arrived, this one announced by a herald. An imperial noble house. The Marr family. Dressed in black, in Mourning. His family was sending a message, no, Malum was sending a message. Curious. Nwul's eyes narrowed at the presence of Malum's apprentice. He hadn't met the young woman yet, it was curious to see her here. What witah how in tune with cutthroat Sith Politics Malum was. Nwul's eyes became steady, he drank in Malum's emotions.

Fiviune was soon... it would be difficult for the young man.

You will not face this trial alone, my friend. Nwul thought to himself as Malum got to his feet, revealing himself for many to gasp in surprise. Nwul's smile cracked open wide, his eyes glinting with delight. Regal, Dignified, Hilarious. I'll have you at my side one day, Malum.

The vivant @Madrona A'Mia made her presence known, the enigmatic being wreathed in natures beauty was remarkable to Nwul, who deeply respected mother nature. He would have to take the time to speak with her soon. But for now... he couldn't contain his excitement any longer. He stepped forward and... through the balcony, his body erupting into mist. There was a flash of movement and he was gone. The next moment his voice rang out among Caedes' group.

"Caedes! You came! I knew you would my friend, it's so good to see you!" Nwul crowed, throwing his arms open wide and embracing the King of Korriban, "This is your most exquisite form yet, masterful," Nwul elated, glancing towards the two who accompanied him. "Elmindra Xitaar and Zal Aditi in the flesh, it's been so long since we saw one another during the purge of Korriban," His smile eased a little when he locked eyes with Zal, "It would seem that Thule had quite the effect, you look breathtaking," He offered her an easy smile before turning to the man who had brought them there. He held out a welcoming hand to the Shaper.

"It's good to see you again, my brother in wisdom," Nwul said very simply, his words taking on a bit more of a reverent tone. He inclined his head, "I'm glad you came to see this," His voice dropped a little more, "Watch over me."

His body erupted into mist again, this time he stopped next to Malum. "And there is the young Master himself, Malum." he teased, winking at him and clapped a hand on his shoulder, not saying a word about their choice of color. Rather, he looked the young man in the eye and nodded before vanishing again and reappearing on the Balcony. He let a quiet breath out as he lingered there, the people present had fallen silent, all having watched him zip around the room in almost boyish excitement. Nwul enjoyed to play, to make mischief, to tease and trick and fool. But there was a time and a place. And right now, in this instant, as he held the attention of all those present, he knew that this was the time to speak his mind. So that strange, whirlwind of a man, who called all these people here with nothing more than a prophecy, let out a steadying breath. Easing nerves that he rarely felt.

"Prestige. It's a pretty word. The widespread respect and admiration applied to something on the basis of their achievements and quality," He held out his hands and he drew on the power of the force, using his mental power to change the world around them for a moment. Where they once stood in the room of crimson and gold, they were now standing in the chambers of a Grand Moff of the Galactic Empire. The stringent banners of Sidious' empire fell proudly over the walls, men and women in uniform spoke confidently. The air was electrified. Music played, music written and composed by an Imperial composer. Out a window, in the distance, the Imperial Palace, which symbolized Imperial might was crowned with a fleet of Imperial Star Destroyers on a parade run through the sky. The image shifted a bit, Imperial citizens down below cheered, there was order in the streets. But more importantly, there was a sense of pride. Men and women actively volunteered to serve in the army. It was something to yearn for.

Nwul looked at the gathered crowd gravely, "...The Galactic Empire had it."

With an effort he shifted the illusion, the gathered people were now standing in a viewing box watching as the Galactic Republic Senate went through their opening ceremonies. Jedi solemnly escorting the Chancellor to his position. The image shifted again as the citizens of the Galactic Republic created works of art, built great buildings, formed vast armies to defend their civilization, they stood the test of time. As a culture, as a people. Nwul's eyes grew harder, "...The Galactic Republic had it."

The image shifted one last time and his face twisted a bit with the effort as he pulled memories from deep within, the minds of categorically ancient beings that he'd consumed on that day on Korriban giving him the visuals of their lives, their time. They were suddenly on Dromund Kaas, standing before a platoon of Imperial troopers in black armor, their helmets off, their eyes gleaming with pride as a Sith Lord prepared them for the mission they were about to undertake. An Imperial Admiral in yet another scene made a daring maneuver, sending in their portion of the fleet just in time to ensure the survival of a Sith Apprentice. That same individual stood in another scene, with the Admiral now at his side, talking to a surrendering warlord. Behind them, the six-pointed wheel of the reconstituted Sith Empire of the era after the Great Hyperspace War. Nwul concentrated and the image shifted again, that Sith Apprentice sat at a magnificent opera, listening intently as the Admiral, now a bit grayer, spoke alongside a few other nobles. The Sith shared his own thoughts, and they shook hands. The next scene was of a world being dominated, Imperial troops marching across the battlefield with several Stih alongside them. Starships above crushing resistance. Another world conquered.

"...The Ancient Sith Empire had it." Nwul finally said as the vision faded, they were back in the restored palace. His eyes cast about the room. "What happened?" He demanded, "We have none."

His words came out with the same harsh finality of the fall of a guillotine blade. "They all had their problems, but they had prestige. They had dignity. They had an identity. A goal. A purpose. A culture," Nwul let out a breath and gestured to all those here, "Once, the Sith considered themselves to be the warriors of this great empire. We served a role, we were aristocracy, yes, but we were also the weapons of the empire, the elite warrior class. It was considered the greatest shame of our people when we were forced to push acolytes into any form of combat, it was enough to make a man retch with disgust and humiliation, they were a treasure to be fostered. There was a time when Imperial citizens were respected. When those who could not fight were protected so they could serve the Empire in their own way, while those that could proudly took up the calling. The call of conscription was one that was answered with celebration!" Nwul threw his arms out, "Imperial nobles, force users or not, were the ideal paragons of our morals, our dignity, and our leadership. They commanded order while fostering the beauty that we see only shadows of today," Nwul's voice came out louder, "WHAT. HAPPENED?"

His arms fell to his sides, "It was taken from us, that is what happened. All of it. The unity and respect that the Sith and Imperials once had for one another. Our National Pride. Our Art. Our Dignity. Our Culture. All of it taken away," His voice took on an edge, "Sith Warlords ravage worlds and thrash at one another like toddlers fighting over a gritbox. They destroy what little is left of the culture on those worlds, not caring for anything other than what's useful to them immediately. Imperials in exile loot and pillage what's left of our heritage and flee. The Dead God, that walking corpse, Ignores the Senate, demands absolute obedience," His eyes drift towards Malum, "And provides next to nothing to his subjects in return. All is for his glory, as far as he is concerned," Nwul's fists clench, "Not just him," His voice taking on a deeper edge, "The Senatorial Order for the Dissolution of the Sith Sect and Empire," Nwul rasped, "There is a standing order by the Senate for all good citizens of the Alliance and the Jedi Order to destroy our history when they come across it."

He draws his hand to his heart, "My heart aches for our nation, I had thought that if I looked hard enough that I would find someone worthy to support, to guide them towards leading our nation towards a new golden age," Nwul called out earnestly, "Every time I went to a tomb or ruin, I found naught but scraps left of our culture and history. The barest fragments, every time I bore witness to the struggles of this Empire, I grew more and more weary. I thought to myself... 'is there no one willing to step up?'" Nwul raised a fist, "I stand before you all here today with a plan, more than a plan, an Oath and a Covenant. A Covenant between the Sith that side with me and the Imperials that do the same. A Covenant bound in the gold of a new age."

He took a deep breath, crossed his arms over his chest, and uttered words that had not been spoken by a Sith since the fall of the reconstituted empire, "I, Darth Nwul Shasot'ari, Steward of the Dark Side, as a Lord of the Sith, swear upon my title and my very life, to serve this great Empire. To destroy it's enemies. To lay waste to its traitors. To protect it's interests. And to see to the Glory of this Empire. I will pursue the Code of the Sith to serve the Empire, and act in a way befitting of our proud and noble Order." He let his arms fall back to his sides and raised his voice as a droid stepped forward holding what appeared to be a roll of golden paper, "So I swear! Let the Noble Houses, Imperial and Sith alike, who came to this gathering to join in this covenant, speak the name of your house!"

 

[Kadann]

"Walk with me? Or are you occupied with some tasks from your overlord?"

"Walking the floor and what I have been tasked to do are not mutually exclusive," Kadann replied with a faint hint of a smile. One that almost reached his eyes.

My eyes? he thought to himself. He hadn't thought that anyone would take the time to watch him carefully enough to see anything that might pique their interest. This was a new collection of personalities, as curious about the others involved in the power struggles of the sith as they were determined to make their own mark.

Any further conversation was brought to a halt for an extravagant show of power in the forum of illusionary magic and a speech. Kadann listened, but he did not listen. He imaged that since the Galaxy had recovered from the Gulag Plague that a hundred such speeches had been given. The first attempt to reform the Galactic Republic had crushed the first sweeping Sith Campaign, only to be destroyed from within.

A cycle that had continued again, the One Sith unleashing a terrible wave of Yuuzhan Vong devastation before the Alliance crushed them at Coruscant, only for the Alliance to be taken down from an assault from the First Order and a betrayal from the highest level of the New Jedi Order. Perhaps today a new Order would be born that claimed a swathe of the Galaxy and the wheel would turn again. All before they even reached the 'Great' hyperspace war and the cleansing of worlds that had dragged Kadann out of hiding.

Kadann felt nothing for the words, something Cillara would either notice or attribute to his professional demeanour. Kadann had simply resigned himself to a fate of making himself useful to whoever he could. Light and Dark, dogma and religious fervour, none of it mattered to him any more.

He supposed - as he bowed his head and waited silently for those of title to call out their names - that it might bring some stability that would benefit the working people of the Galaxy whose lives were swept up in endless turning of the wheel.

 

[Darth Amarok]

Darth Amarok noticed Lady Venge motioning to him after Darth Nwul had finished his speech, and went to her. Quickly whispering her thoughts to Amarok as he listened, Venge outlined her plan.

"Make the name StormWolf one to be remembered," she said. "We were born to be rulers, you and I."

"We have no heirs," Amarok countered. "And the name StormWolf is dead to me."

"Then resurrect it, make it a name to be known, a name to be feared," Venge pressed. "Eve shall be our legacy."

"She's not our daughter. She's merely a clone of you," Amarok replied.

"And what of it," Venge argued. "She had no say in whatever conspiracy Lord Retsinis was keeping from us."

"Very well," Amarok said, nodding in consent to Venge's wishes.

Turning away from Venge, Darth Amarok strode towards where Darth Nwul stood with the droid bearing the gold colored scroll.

"I am Darth Amarok. Together with Lady Venge, I represent House StormWolf. The young lady known as Eve, shall take our House's name and be declared our lawful heir. We offer our service to you, Lord Nwul!"

 

[Alina Tremiru]

A bemused smile took over Alina's lips this time as she listened to the impassioned speech. Sith were nothing without passion. She glanced towards Vincent, simply dipping her head. It was an unspoken approval for what would come next. The Tremiru house had all but been wiped out by the end of the Sith Imperial civil war. The plan had always been to bring the family back. But now was as good a time as any to make sure their rivals knew.

She lowered her glass, walked through the crowd with her head high to stand amongst the others.

"House Tremiru offer their support against the Dead God. Our ancient secrets will be shared for that purpose. And, perhaps, our loyalty will be earned through your actions, Lord Nwul." She flashed a far too charming smile, enhanced solely by the Sagnir nature of what she was.

"I've high hopes."

Darth Nwul

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

As The Shaper finished making his entrance, and bringing his companions along with him, he first extended his senses to gauge their reactions to the proceedings taking place. Weighing and measuring the perception of the younger Sith to the ebbs and flows of Sith politics, which seemed to form their own rhythmic, natural dance throughout time his uniquely long-lived perspective afforded him the opportunity to see, was something of a bit of a treat for him. Darth Caedes seemed to bristle with pride and an idle sense of curiosity, pride that roiled about himself, reflected inward, curiosity that spiraled out like a web of connections and scrutiny. Each thread plucked and pulled with the gentlest of appraisals for now. A perspective that The Shaper could very much appreciate.

Secondly, and frankly more interestingly, was the raw, simmering aura of Elmindra Xitaar that made her a Queen without a crown. A sweeping pride that The Shaper found oh so fitting and appropriate, if not for the tiny fact she was clinging onto another, but he stowed that thought away behind a small, polite smile and a gentle nod in response to her words. The small nudge he had given her, in an effort to have her truly envision what her purported abilities and aura could accomplish at a social gala like this? She would be like a bird in flight should she play her cards right and it would be magnificent to watch her soar.

Third among his companions The Shaper took a moment to truly let his senses weigh on Zal Aditi and he was not subtle about it. The woman was very conservative with her emotions and her words, but not her actions, and her extravagance in dress and demeanor on served to match and heighten the presentation nearly all the rest of the five of them had exhibited. Even more pleasing to the ancient Sith was her addition of servants, a subtle and palpable reminder to everyone else present that even here on Thule she could bring her influence with her. A marvelous play and one that had The Shaper idly wonder if she even knew the subtleties behind her own choice of action. If so then she impressed more than previous.

Finally he turned his attention back to his newfound apprentice, following her senses as they wove like growing roots through the fertile soil, drinking in the possibility and presences arrayed before her, and though he found her answer vague he understood she still needed to receive proper instruction. The curiosity displayed, the awe, and desire to properly perceive and categorize every detail was noted and he gave a nod of tacit approval. He would expect her to improve in the future, to not be an awe-struck child in the midst of something like this, but he tolerated it for now. His voice echoing out to her mind in a neutral, possibly even somewhat encouraging, tone.

"Focus upon the crux of the issue my apprentice, the epitome for this meeting, and from there you will see the connections woven like a grand web of design. Though I doubt the spider sitting at it's center truly grasp just how complex a web he has woven.~"

The Shaper would gently guide Madrona A’Mia 's senses to Darth Nwul as he approached, the aforementioned epitome himself, and The Shaper's easy, mask-like smile melted into something more honestly cordial as he nodded to the man he had played host to not that long ago, their roles now inherently reversed. When his words came they murmured physically from The Shaper's lips, a purring rumble of curiosity of his own he exaggerated only a bit.

"Naturally, Steward, we shall see what you can offer our people. May the Force serve you in expressing your goals."


The Shaper watched Nwul approach Darth Malum of House Marr with steady, inscrutable eyes, noting the casual demeanor, the immediate physical contact, and he hummed. His eyes then turning to Corazona von Ascania and weighing what her involvement could mean for a brief moment, before his eyes returned to Nwul as the man took the stage. The unknown little Jedi's presence made a few things obvious to The Shaper, that Nwul was in the process of attempting to exert some form of influence over here, that it was likely succeeding, though there did exist a small possibility of that same influence twisting him from his convictions in the future.

Whatever the case The Shaper turned his attention fully to Nwul as he began to speak. The beginning was... flowery for The Shaper's taste but given the decorum of the gathering present it was less a detraction from Nwul's choice and more a recognition as what was likely the Steward's safest bet for his tone. It did not take long, however, for The Shaper's scrutiny to intensify as Nwul drew parallels to older institutions and when Nwul made the assertion that the Sith now had no culture, while standing at the epicenter of a song and dance of power and politics as old as life itself, he became entirely convinced of what he had told A'mia. The spider was indeed blind, and ripping his own web in the process.

Even The Shaper, for all his collected stoicism and age, could not help the small upward tilt of his chin, the narrowing of his eyes, as Nwul made the.... rather insane claim the Sith had found it distasteful to allow their acolytes to prove themselves in the thrill of battle. An apprentice, an acolytes, was not so much treasured as molded, forged into something greater, and possibly treasured should they succeed in making something of themselves. As it was one of the strangest truths of the Sith that the moment of greatest pride for a Sith Lord about those they teach.... would likely be in the moment that student slew them. For what greater evidence could there be of an acolyte, an apprentice, proving themselves as something worth cherishing to their Master than to become something greater than the Master themselves?

Though that rather disappointing beginning was to say nothing of the almost impressively mixed, truthful yet bold, statements that followed it. The Shaper could agree the Sith were divided, once more fighting over primacy among their people, and from his private conversation with Srina Talon he knew that Maliphant becoming the corpse he now dwelt as was harmful beyond just the scope of their people's perception. He could agree, in private, and in part, but to attempt to be one of the actors of disunity, then claim to rise above it, and call out the Emperor you ought owe allegiance to without his presence there to respond to the challenge? It was as if Nwul were attempting to administer the right medicine for the wrong disease for their people, or perhaps more accurately, trying to administer the right cure via the wrong methods.

However, The Shaper said absolutely nothing for the moment, instead his senses spread gently out to the gathered masses, his arm A'mia clung to bringing her hand to rest on his shoulder so that he may cross his arms... and wait. His energy would flow from that simple hand upon his shoulder to bolster his apprentice's perception as well, aiding her in working as a second set of eyes as his own attempted to catch those of Nwul. Should the Steward meet the gaze of The Shaper he would see the ancient Sith's expression was... dubious... hard... and highly suggesting that if Nwul had more to add or corrections to make they would be heard... but only just.

 

[Asaaj En Kelsani]

Location: An unihabited system a few hundred light years from Thule before arriving at Thule
Objective: Visit the Gala
Tags: Stardust Solus Skirae but also open to interaction with anyone

Loadout

Asaaj's mind wandered as Stardust Solus Skirae interacted with Corazona von Ascania she smiked a little. "Someone you know? Then I shall withdraw my wager, seems unfair" she stuck her tongue out playfully to Stardust and her mind wandered around the room. While the Sith and their sycophants talked amongst themselves, nothing really grabbing her attention until.

"Please excuse me my love, I see a woman I know from the Braxant thing." she wandered off to speak to the exquisitely dressed woman from Muunilist, Maëlys Amnen .

She had met the woman a number of times when she briefly assumed the Braxant Covenant was going to be her route to regaining control over her planet of Ubelixa. "Maëlys my dear, you are very far from home."

"I'm not the only one, witch, but I travel for the potential business ventures." the dark skinned woman grinned with a lust for even greater wealth in her eyes.

Asaaj was about to enquire further when Darth Nwul began his speech. Asaaj felt a pressing in her head as the man began using the force for some kind of illusory magic, but Asaaj was already on her guard against Sith trickery and very familiar with illusion so she did not allow this trick to enter her mind. She simply watched as the man made his speech, darting around the room from place to place with the energy of someone with grand ambitions of the future. She looked at Maëlys next to her who stood in awe of the sights that she was seeing.

"I'm going to make so much money" the woman already dripped in her wealth muttered to herself quietly.

As the theatrics ended, a few of the onlookers began to make statements of allegiance to the man swearing their houses to him.

"I am Maëlys Amnen, Muunilist Mineral Holdings looks forward to working with you all" said the Amnen woman, holding her glass to the room before taking a large glass of the liquid contained within. This announcement invariably brought the eyes of waiting nobles to witch standing next. Asaaj raised her own glass, "I'm Asaaj, I'm just here to how this all plays out" she said with a wicked, but not unfriendly smile.

Corazona von Ascania Darth Xyrah Lady Venge Alina Tremiru Anak Darkstar Shasill Kaarte Darth Amarok

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Corazona von Ascania Asaaj En Kelsani

eccentric, yes indeed. I find it refreshing when one can see past titles and sides to...make peace

A glance to asaaj as she spoke to her, nodding her head to her before she looked to Cora and grew closer to her as she lowered her voice and took a sip of her drink

if you are held against your will as a slave to the man you need but speak it, I despise slavers more then I do any other being in the galaxy

With that she leaned back and changed her demeanor back to a happy and sociable one as she held her ring up as Cora commented on it and chuckled

yes, voidstone make for a good aesthetic piece, but it also a good way to hold back my powers from....harming those I wish not to