Knowledge is to be Shared

[The Traveler]

For centuries he had wandered, for decades he had found and abandoned one cause after the other. He was destroyer and he was builder, he was monster and he was savior. A being of ancient age, perhaps one of the eldest of his race in the Universe. He was many things and he was nothing but a figment of a shattered reality and damaged mind. He was The Traveler, and he traversed the galaxy. Once an ancient sith of the era of the Rule of Two, a master and then fallen in battle. Imprisoned by the very dark side and his body infused by it. The constant whispers of its tendril voiced echoed in the back of his mind and he listened. He had believed he had escaped the enslavement of the darkside but that was the futility of mortality and immortality. Those who had the time had the patience and the dark side was ever lasting and it was ever present.

His citadel was an imposing monument of jagged spires and rugged ramparts, broken walls and impaled remnants of those he had tested found inferior. His past self, his false self had focused his life to the acquisition of wealth and of power that had been his down fall, he on the other hand horded things more valuable then credits. Knowledge. He had focused on ancient and dark passages and forgotten tomes of lore and mythose. Great appendixes and forgotten lexicons of the most forboding of tidings. Many of the musty volumes, forgotten holocrons and forgotten scrolls. When he was a Warlord with the great Primeval horde he had allowed the barbarian hordes to plunder the "valuables" why he searched the true treasures of the holds and it was lucrative.

Today he had decided to open his holding to the other lordlings and upstarts in the plague that was the sith. It was true that one should not trust a sith, especially when one was a Sith themselves. but these were strange days that the enigma walked in and he had need of allies for his goals to come to fruition. He stood clad in his armor, awaiting the dark harbingers of hell that would walk upon the cobbled stone of his most unhumble abode,.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

The nature of the Light Side was to live in harmony with the cycles of life and death. The flames burned like pure stars, and then they passed away into darkness. The void existed around these lights before they were first ignited. The void would persist when they guttered out. The Dark was stronger, more vital, and more relentless than any light. This was the wisdom that the Sith knew. It was natural, then, that immortality was an aspiration of many.

In his studies on Lorrd, reacquainting himself with the history of the modern era, Antherion had familiarized himself with yet more wielders of the Force who had trodden short strolls on the long pathway to forever - Darth Sidious, who had drifted for years as an independent spirit with nothing but willpower, Darth Maul - who had lived after being cut in two. Going back further, to before his time, 'immortals' abounded, that lived for a few centuries or millennia before Chaos claimed them. In the end, for all their will, all of these people had died.

Maybe this 'traveler' had lived longer than any of them. In a twisted way, he was Antherion's junior: A product of the Rule of Two, where Antherion had been alive in the Old Republic. That being said, he was also more experienced, and more powerful. He would have accumulated much knowledge, and if he wanted to spread it around - who would Antherion be to deny him?

He came clad in a stiff-collared black jacket over a white, flame silk shirt and dark slacks. He drifted on his hover-chair unadorned, but he had woven for himself a necklace of white flowers that gave off a strange smell halfway between alkaline and perfume. He offered a respectful nod to the darksider as he approached the steps of his palace. The man himself had a somewhat androgynous, tousle-haired look.

"I received your generous invitation. I am Antherion, of the Sith, come to explore the knowledge of your citadel."

| [member="The Traveler"] |