Jedi Archeologist
F R O S T B U R N
Tag:
Rann Thress
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Millu Lee
| OpenThe winds of Vandor sent cold drafts through Frosthall as snow fell around the massive castle. Frosthall had been built centuries ago to withstand this type of cold, and it pretty much had; yet, a lifetime of storms and snow resulted in a degree of tolerance for the chill by its inhabitants. That tolerance meant that Frosthall was not always as warm as it could be, nor as well insulated, and resulted in a kind of cultural shock when visitors arrived at the castle. Warm always had a different meaning on Vandor than elsewhere in the galaxy. Naturally, that was no problem for the Lord of Frosthall, who had spent all of his life on Vandor.
But for the few survivors of the calamity that had befallen the Knights Obsidian, it was much, much less comfortable.
Some sort of dark force had attacked every base and temple the Knights Obsidian had. Beric didn't like to think about it, but he knew casualties had to be in the thousands. Overnight, the Knights Obsidian had become a force in the thousands to just potentially breaking just the hundreds, and even now no one still knows what had attacked them, or who had survived. With such a diaspora, Beric had opened to Frosthall -- which for some reason had been spared from any attack -- to the survivors, to give them a place to rest and live. Anyone knew that Frosthall had space, and even though it was strange to see unfamiliar faces in familiar halls, Beric was happy to give the Knights Obsidian a place for respite.
That didn't mean that he didn't miss the solitude that Frosthall previously offered, and his regular meditation was sorely suffering. Many remaining Knights had taken to hanging around the massive watchfires that populated the walls and courtyards of Frosthall, ironically warmer than the castle interior itself. While that was good and fine, it meant that Beric's outdoor meditation was often interrupted by chatter; training Millu had even become more difficult as constant distractions made themselves known.
For now, though, he seemed to have found a courtyard unoccupied, perfect to calm himself and meditate, which he was currently doing. Levitating off the ground ever so slightly -- because even the Lord of Frosthall found sitting in snow to be uncomfortable after a while -- Beric breathed in and out slowly and he reestablished his connection to the Living Force around him, training his mind to ignore the material and to dissolve into the interwoven web that connected all things, living or otherwise.
The only thing that would draw his ire, of course, would be for someone to interrupt him now.