L-Space | Lorrd

[Darth Rage]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Rage rifled through the books at a brisk pace. Skimming a tome here, reading a paragraph their. But, it was obvious he would not be able to find what he was looking for. The dark tomes were all non sense and none of the artifacts seemed to even still work. No, what he sought was deeper within the confines of the library. Dressed in his scholarly robes Audroti made his way through the Library unharassed. That was until he spotted a man in red armor rifling through the tomes as well. Audroti thought nothing of it, but as he continued to move through the library he noticed the man did as well. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Chit," Rage cursed under his breath.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]If he were to use the force in here he would surely be made, but if he dispatched the man with his saber... Rage continued to walk through the library till he came across a relatively secluded area behind a few very dusty shelves. Rage rounded a corner abruptly and the Red guard would be forced to make his intentions obvious. As the Red guard rounded the corner Rage's suspicions were confirmed. The Sith smiled. He continued deeper into the bowels of the abandoned part of the library and when he was sure they were alone Rage rounded another corner. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]But, this time he lie in wait. As the red guard rounded the corner Rage used the pommel of his light saber to knock the man unconscious with a quick, but heavy clout to the head. The man slumped to the ground and Rage removed his robes. He adorned the Reguards uniform completely covering himself head to toe. He even wrapped a shawl around his face, so as to better conceal his identity. Rage tore the Scholar disguise to bits and fashioned a rope out of it. He tied the man up and gagged him with a thick suave of cloth. Audroti dragged the man to a nearby supply closet and threw him inside of it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Sweet dreams my precious," He said mockingly as the man awoke to see Rage now adorned in his old uniform. He slammed the door shut and the man's muffled screams were further silenced by the weight of the door.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Rage found a map of the library within the guard's pocket and discovered a series of vaults not too far from where he was now. He was sure they would be under heavy guard and Audroti could sense several powerful Jedi in one of the vaults. He would steer clear of that one and breach another.[/SIZE]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

Lanky and bony fingers traced the parchment of the open book. With his other hand below it's binding, he cradled it as if a child, committing words to memory. His hopes, forever lasting, rested on notions of taking nightmares and making them real.

A lost and forgotten tribe of pre hyperspace travel sentients, the Nerange, were a group that broke away from their more uncivilized nations. Tossing away nomadic ideals, they began to build towns and cities, in respite from the hardship of the hunt. Beneath the cracks of these cities, legends were born.​

​

One such legend was that of the Maderandai. Believed to be a figure so large in scale as to appear abstract and beyond comprehension, the Nerange built vast temples of sandstone to glorify and praise this presence. This praise and glorification came not from love, but from fear.​

​

It was believed that 'nothingness,' the opposite of 'being,' existed within the belly of this God. And that to obstruct his ideals and the nature of his causality, was to invite his wrath. This wrath included fears of being consumed, in being undone and tossed into the ether of nothingness. Such fear of reprisal caused the civilization to be built upon beliefs of countless deities, spawning from the back of Maderandai. And each limb and component of his body invariably assumed a God like identity. The Narange provide these authors a window into the formation of ancient religious beliefs, grounded in desire to effects one's day to day life. In this case, to prevent its cessation.​

​

"...Praise and glorification came not from love, but from fear." Pravus repeated the words quietly, as he didn't want to disturb the sanctity of a quiet library. Looking around him, he noticed very few individuals in this section of the esteemed building. A reader here, with shifty eyes, and a librarian there, with long flowing robes and auras of scholarship.

Riiiiiiiippppp.

Pravus looked to his right.

Riiiiiiiiipppppppp.

Pravus looked to his left.

Riiiiipppppppppp.

Pravus looked behind him. He had wondered where Darron ranoff to and low and behold, he was behind the man all along. In his grotesque and rotten fingers, a book of umber and gold embroidery rested. And Darron was ripping pages free from book, one after another, in slow methodical rhythm. Pravus reeled back out of instinct and slapped the holy goddess out of the walking corpse. With the force of the blow, Darron went tumbling, ripped pages and all, after flinging the book upwards. Pravus scrambled to catch it before turning a hard gaze towards his spawned creation.

With venom in every whisper, Pravus abided the unspoken rule of the library while chastising Darron. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS UNHOLY ARE YOU DOING, DARRON!"

"It...it had pictures of me...in it."

"SO!"

"The book was titled fairy tales and false myths."

"SO?!?" Pravus didn't understand.

"I'm not a fairy tale."

"IF YOU TOUCH ANOTHER BOOK, I'LL PERSONALLY SEW A SUB-PAR FAIRY DOLL TOGETHER AND THEN I'LL FIGURE OUT A WAY TO JAM YOUR ENTIRE BODY INTO IT!" He brandished the book and pointed to it. "IT'LL BE SMALLER THAN THIS!"

"Excuse me, what seems to be the matter here?" Pravus looked over his shoulder to spot a librarian, likely coming over due to the commotion. "Oh, nothing wrong here. I was just..." He happened to now be standing over the ripped pages. "I was just considering where I could go to scan some of these pages. Would you, by chance, know?"

"Of course, it's down the hall and to the right. You can't miss it."

"Thank you. I'll be on my way over there, soon enough."

The librarian gave a curt nod before disappearing into another aisle. Pravus leaned down and gathered the torn sheets, stuffing them back into the book. With another chastising look towards Darron, he slowly made his way down the aisle expecting his zombie servant to fall in line.

[member="Cedric Grayson"], [member="Boethiah"], [member="Lethia Morow"], [member="Lan Graendal"], [member="Darth Rage"], [member="Antherion"], [member="Nick Imura"], [member="Vorian Adasca"]​

 

[Ras'kala'han]

The streets of the city of Lorrd were clean. Antherion could appreciate this. One thing he noticed about the best sort of despotic governments was that the streets were always nice and clean, and the cities were always nice and quiet -- people could appreciate the need to walk quickly and keep their heads down, to get where they were going and attract as little attention as possible to themselves, as 'attention' usually meant a military police officer ramming their jackboot down on your ribs.

Now that the Dominion had stepped in, one might expect things to change, but in truth, the people were skeptical. Darth Voracitos had loomed large (literally) over them for as far back as many could remember, and was a creature of cruel, fickle eccentricity. Their fear still clung to their bones, and it would be a long period of healing before hope might return to them.

Irrespective of hope, their knowledge would be put to use.

Tired of waiting at the palace, Antherion had been walking, his usual slow and pained stride, towards the library. Opening the door with a motion of his hand, he looked up to see the avatar of darkness he had smuggled onworld having a chat with the local government's supreme authority.

Well, I better not leave this alone.

He began walking up to the duo, a smile on his face hiding profound concern.


| [member="Boethiah"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Lan Graendal"] | [member="Darth Rage"] | [member="Lethia Morow"] | [member="Pravus Zambrano"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] |

 

[Garza]

It seemed that we were here before the man himself. However, I could clearly see that it was one of the Sith back on Kro Var. One of the few who I had found to be of great value to me. One that was powerful enough with the force to be a threat, but one that I felt I could take care of should he cross me. I may have been standing there in my armor, but the ceremonial form of it, was very fine, and honestly, if anyone asked, The armor was tight and it was difficult to take off. Hence knowledge on possible ways to remove bone and scaled armor without breaking it? However, I was a being of Kro Var, and taking a new name, would keep my title of Prince of the planet hidden. I was no Nickolas. I am Darth Andrias. A Kro Varian Master Shaper who has studied the arts of the Primeval Gods.

Likely not done very well, but I wore armor because everyone lied. Every person here has made a lie, or is guilty of a sin. Even [member="Antherion"] had his own sins that he will one day be accounted for. It was the will of the Gods to determine if he should live or die by his crimes. All I would do is bring that judgment if it be their will.

I smiled a little past the blue scarf that covered a portion of my face. It seemed that the same smirk was on the man's meeting us. Concern. Tossing the look aside, I met the man. Bringing myself forward, and bowed my head to the man. Yes, I may be a master of the force, however, I was not one to force people to beg, or kiss my boots because I had power over them. No. this meeting was of mutual respect, and necessity of the Primeval and our Host Lord. Not Sithly business.

"Speak plainly. For we already have members inside."

[member="Pravus Zambrano"] [member="Darth Rage"], [member="Boethiah"], [member="Cedric Grayson"], [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Lethia Morow"], [member="Arisa Yune"], [member="Aria Vale"], [member="Loxa Visl"], [member="Lan Graendal"],

 

[Boethiah]

Boethiah stopped walking the moment she heard someone address her.

For a moment the thought did linger. Me? Before she turned to face the voice, the white hood of her robe covering much of her own in a soft shadow. "Did you not?" She asks, "come in that is... Unless you were born within these walls never to leave." Her terse statement should have came with a friendly smile, but instead her visage remained stern.

She did not move from her spot just yet, though, even some of her companions moved on without her. No, here she would entertain the thought of conversation with an 'onworlder' should that word accurately describe [member="Cedric Grayson"] in any way. Of course she would not know if it did or not, but judging from his own questions she could assume.

The witch brought her hands together, allowing the fingers to interlock rather than having them rest idly by her side.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Lethia Morow"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Loxa Visl"] | [member="Lan Graendal"] | [member="Antherion"] | [member="Nick Imura"]