Let's Talk Talismans [The Witchmasters]

[Ashin Varanin]

Dathomiri culture had a great many interesting artifacts, some of them terrifyingly esoteric, a match for just about anything in the Sith alchemy playbook. By hook or by crook, Ember had brought samples of most of them, laying them on stone tables in a forest clearing. It was early evening, and he'd spiked torch-sconces to the trees. The widely varying Force auras of the artifacts commingled to his senses. Some were old and complex, worn into quiescence; others were new, untested replicas. Some were of the Light and others of the Dark. Statues, too, some Light and some Dark, stood in the fringes of the trees.

Ember had opted not to make himself the obvious centre of attention, at least not yet. He sat on a stump at the clearing's edge, watching as the Witchmasters trickled into the conclave. The objective here was to learn the identification, use, and perhaps creation of these things -- to get to know the full breadth of what Dathomiri magic could accomplish in the realm of crafting.

[member="Alaric D'Lessio"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] [member="Cennika Hawk"] [member="Daedel"] [member="Deneve Verd"] [member="Dralos"] [member="Dredge"] [member="Edison Bulkhead"] [member="Eirlys Verd"] [member="Fable Merrill"] [member="Fabula Caromed"] [member="Falcon Gyndar"] [member="Iegoris Verd"] [member="Isley Verd"] [member="Kaeda Vevut"] [member="Kass Zyn'meshurok"] [member="Lilith Engelis"] [member="Loxa Visl"] [member="Master of Puppets"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Morgana Belcourt"] [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] [member="Ostanes"] [member="Skye Mertaal"] [member="Spencer Varanin"] [member="Tia Laveau"]

 

[Dredge]

"I SAID LEFT!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT LEFT IS!?" on the other side of the clearing Dredge was atop some Graug grunt like an MMA fighter initiating some ground and pound.

At a distance the sound would be that of an iron fist hitting skin and bone a few times, but as the seconds ticked by the sound got a lot more wet and squishy. Like smashing a pumpkin into paste, however you could replace pumpkin in this situation with a Graug's skull and delicious seeds and pulp with brains tiny bits of skull fragments however equally delicious they may be.

"TELL ME WHICH WAY IS NOW!! OH WAIT YOU CAN'T CAUSE YOU'RE DEAD!!" Dredge yelled and shot one more fist into the Graug's excuse for a head.

There was a moment and Dredge sat down next to the corpse on the ground, he sighed and took deep heavy breaths of someone who had exerted themselves without warning up first. Looking down at his boots he sighed and threw a fist into the ground.

"I got karking blood on my shoes! Do you know how hard it is to clean these!" Dredge sighed once more then looked over to Ember.

His late therapist said he needed to socialize more, and as a last request for saying he needed to socialize more Dredge would try and blend in or at least try and make new friends. Not that anyone wanted to be his friend, or that he didn't not want to murder them. It was asking a lot but he was going to help out these people in finding their stupid necklaces.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

It had been a short time since the package from [member="Rave Merrill"] had reached his offices, and eventually he had opened it. What had lain inside had stunned him to his core. It had taken him a considerable amount of pause and thought, to wonder if it were safe to use and wear. No matter the complexity of it, as soon as he had touched it.... Somehow.... He had known what it was for. What it could and would do to and for him. The greatest drive of his insane mind had been the loss of his memory and ability. Whilst restoring the knowledge wouldn't automatically restore his ability, he would certainly be on a much better path with it thus. Less like growing new muscles, and more like re-working atrophied ones. Which, in the end, neither process was particularly pleasant or easy, but one was decidedly less of a struggle than the other.

In the end, he wasn't particularly sure how he had gotten to Dathomir, or why he had came to this forsaken place. Whispers among some of his darker and more esoteric connections had said something was happening here. What precisely it was they were unsure of, to the point of contradicting one another quite heavily. Some said it was a gathering of Nightsister, hell bent on enslaving all men in the system. Others that Dathomir intended to revolt and secede from Mandalorian governance and control. Still others yet claimed a Mandalorian had united many of them, and that they were beginning to unite the planet itself into a autonomous government. Each rumor seemed stranger than the last, but the array of things he saw here confirmed perhaps it was more than just idle chatter that drew him here. Perhaps this was the way forward for him, now that his mind began to clear again from it's shattered madness.

Regardless, he had came to this place all the same, out of curiosity, but not without caution. Despite the security in his double identity running Akure under the guise of Uriel, he had donned again the simple mask of Moridin, and as such had enabled it to work its measures, completely cloaking his Force Signature and identity, so that non present here would be able to physically or otherwise place him. He had also shifted his form to much taller, and slightly more muscular than the typical guise of his 'true' form of Ostanes that he normally wore, though the odd habit of preferring white robes hadn't been kicked, even if they were plain robes of a non-descript fabric meant to hide the exacting details of the form he had shifted to. The ancient grimoire of sith alchemy and magic he had uncovered on Korriban was in the left breast of his robe, still faintly radiating a Dark aura, as did the lightsaber up the sleeve of his left arm.

Quietly, he strode amongst the things, hands never touching the items for knowledge of what might be triggered by contact.. But using his eyes and other senses to see just what had been gathered. Dathomirian magic, from what little he knew, was often thought of as primitive and crude. But in reality, so were the rituals and processes in his grimoire. And yet, said contents were undeniably powerful and useful to him, and were of a certain bend that appealed to the arcane scholar in his inner self. For some reason, his skin itched and seemed to crawl as he looked over at the Rekali Clan-Father, though he made little outward move to acknowledge such. Ever since Tatooine, where he had dabbled with the Codex translations and other Dark manuals in his possession, he had been having strange reactions. He nodded to the man he did not recognize, and continued to drift about, silver masked form silent as the grave.

Current Appearance:

Spoiler

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Cennika Hawk]

The Witchmasters had caught her attention, but hesitation had kept her far and away, until now.

The time since she had last set foot on Dathomir for any reason other than to visit and reconnect with her mount, her oldest friend, was measured in years, and no small number of them. Much of the decades prior to her departure had been spent in some fear of where even the smallest use of the mystical energies could lead her. Even now she could recall all that she had been subjected to until the very day she had ended the woman that birthed her, but after living separate from her people, and for a time separate from that energy, she didn't carry that fear anymore. Her past, her blood, held no sway over her. It wasn't the definition of her existence.

"This was my home, [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]," she said, uncertain how she felt to be upon its soil again, "these woods, I have known like the lines in my palms."

The clearing they were headed for, she knew it too. Memory trickled over her bones, she beat the path through the trees, listened to the ancient, low murmurs of the forest, insomuch as she could with the ruckus coming from the direction of the clearing, and tasted the air. She glanced sideways upon him, a moment only.

"You are... mita'wa... mine, if anyone asks."

A truth, by her reckoning, as she stepped into the clearing and began taking inventory of every person and item present, and other details about them, those, and the area around them. Only the Rekali clan-father sparked any recognition, in part for his Mandalorian connections, but the rest was the thread that tied him, and Yavin, to here.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Krayzen Dratos]

Dralos didn’t know much about the Dathomirian witches and their history, other than the fact that their magics were a mystery to the galaxy. From what he had heard, they could even rival Sith Alchemy. Both areas of the force were mysterious to him, and that was why he had come to Dathomir, to learn about the mysterious Nightsister magics that existed in the world.

His mother had come from Dathomir, but she had never revealed to him much about the planet. To be honest, Dralos didn’t really know much about his family history, since his parents never revealed to him about what had happened. The Withmaster Conscript and Mandalorian Initiate wanted to see where his mother was from, and what life for her was like in Dathomir.

As he looked around the temple in search of nightsister artifacts, the Anzat could sense his fellow Witchmaster members look around as well; he wondered if he would be able to find Nightsister artifacts.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

(Ik its short, but it sets the stage for Dralos being in the thread)

 

[Skye Mertaal]

It had been a long while.

The thought passed through Mertaal's mind as the black tee of her helm bore witness to the enclave before her. Took a bit longer track too. Then again, For those that knew her, she did odd bounty hunting jobs throughout the galaxy, each carefully selected. For her it wasn't the glory of the hunt. It was just a way to set food on the table.

The Red Blade kept to her own, and she rarely made connections outside of the Rekali's. It had been she who had worked along with Ember to save the missing Jedi and his daughter. She who had willingly lent her support. Always had and always will. Mertaal understood the bond of family, be it blood or not. Since then, the Red Blade had been the sort to keep herself wandering, checking back in from time to time. The bureaucracies of the Republic, the One Sith, and yes, even at times the Mandalorians were really not of her concern. Her commitment was to those who held her respect and loyalty, otherwise... she didn't bother.

Roche had changed that.

Skye had felt the shift in the Force. Subtle, but there. There wasn't anyone within Mandalorian and Witch territory that didn't feel the boiling rage of a Father who had lost kin. A daughter. His child.

No parent should ever bury their child.

Things were changing. It was felt in the air. Within her very bones. There was a shift, and that began with the Patriarch of the Rekali clan. Skye didn't know what would happen. Where it would all lead. All she knew, is that she found herself here, in front of this enclave hidden deep within Mandalorian Territory.

What came next was Allya's bidding.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

..."Dathomir."...the word hung in the air once he'd spoken it as though requiring a certain amount of consideration but Naimes ahn-Dross looked ever calm and collective as one who knew him might have expected. The Soldier had come to Dathomir with [member="Cennika Hawk"] looking forward to time off the Light Cruiser that they shared as they journeyed through the black of space on a mission of exploration and discovery. Once his chest had risen, expanding as he took a long breath Naimes would spare a look over at Cennika as they moved in the direction of the clearing then acknowledge..."If anyone asks."...one might marvel at the depth of conversation the two of them could have with only a minimal amount of words...

...the planet itself was beautiful, in Naimes opinion and the Mandalorian had secretly regret he had not visited more often in the past considering the close ties that the Clans shared with the Dathomir Witches. The Trees stretched towards the heavens here, the wet atmosphere made breathing easy and invigorated the body, even the swamp lands had a particular beauty to them. Naimes would have no reluctance to staying here awhile if Cennika desired as much but there was one thing to set straight before they proceeded to far and met with the group...

...Naimes would purposely slow his footsteps, ensuring he fell a pace behind Cennika but before she could proceed ahead of him he would reach out to take her by the forearm in a deft move that saw him complete the motion quickly. Then, assuming Cennika didn't get away from him Naimes would withdraw his arm and use his hold on hers to jerk her around until he'd pulled her close and her frame pressed against his. Tipping his head Naimes sought a deeper look, one that held more significance than the one she had offered to him before declaring that he was to tell anyone who asked that he was hers...

...the deep green of his eyes touched the violet of hers, his hands would move from her forearm and reach out to set itself across the flare of her hip and leaning close he'd have have declared..."If anyone asks, you are mine."...his hand tensed over her hip briefly, let her feel its presence then he withdrew it slowly. Turning he would move alongside her again though he added as he began to move once more..."I would like to know these woods as well as I know the lines on your palms."...and Naimes knew those lines very well...​

 

[Lina Ovmar]

For the first time in several weeks, Mia was sober. Be it because of willpower, or because the few scattered bars In Dathomir's spaceport refused her entry due to unpaid tabs, she would never tell. Shadow was hunting, she could feel his excitement as he prowled through the undergrowth a few clicks away. It was harder when the hound wasn't close, she'd gotten so used to using him as a comfort. She dropped onto the grass beside Ember, sporting a large purple-green bruise on the left of her face, courtesy of her niece, [member="Anija Betna"].

A small crowd that was beginning to gather around the laid out treasures, all so far, being careful not to touch. The flickering of signatures, like whispers on the wind made Mia uncomfortable. She'd been in plenty of bars, but she'd kept everyone at bay keeping herself to herself. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be among people and interact with them properly.

She turned her attention to the Elder on her left. Greeting him with condolences seemed hollow and empty, just as much as greeting him with a smile. She blew a sigh out of her nose and opted for silence, letting her eyes rake back over the clearing. It was far safer.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Anija Betna]

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] [member="Cennika Hawk"] [member="Dralos"] [member="Eirlys Verd"] [member="Fabula Caromed"] [member="Falcon Gyndar"] [member="Isley Verd"] [member="Kaeda Vevut"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] [member="Ostanes"] [member="Skye Mertaal"] [member="Spencer Varanin"]

[media]https://youtu.be/XYKUeZQbMF0[/media]​

The Grove

The shadows of the trees reached far above, as if they stood as towering guardians against the darkness which the torches held at bay. And perhaps that was a good thing. Though she wasn't sure the flickering light of the torches could do the same to dispell the shadows in her heart. So many things had changed in the course of only a few weeks, and Anija was still trying to Find her footing amidst it all. Taking a deep breath, Anija stepped further into the clearing.

Besides assisting the Witchmasters during their earlier actions, this was perhaps the first time she'd had any true interactions with a great many of the Witches since she'd first visited Dathomir all those years ago. It felt like a whole other lifetime. And perhaps it had been. It was hard to tell, honestly. But for now, those were concerns for another time. Another deep breath, and she stepped further into the clearing until she was within the circle of flickering light cast by the torches.

She knew a great many of those present, at least from their association with the Mandalorians. And some better than others. A glance went to Mia and a nod. She wasn't angry. Not at Mia. She'd known Mia long enough that she understood. And she hoped Mia did as well. Though, the purpling bruise on Mia's cheek was rather prominent. Anija took a small measure of satisfaction in that fact. Not in the fact she'd caused Mia pain, but in the fact her hit had connected.

As always, Shadow was close by Mia's side, and she caught the creature's wary gaze in her direction. She'd not intended Mia harm, but more hoped her actions would shake Mia out of the funk she'd been in. It was clear to Anija that she's been trying to drawn her sorrows and regrets in the bottom of a bottle. And that wasn't always the best course of action. For Anija, she always preferred to tackle her problems head on. And for the most part, it had worked. With the singular exception having been her attempt to try and bring Ordo back when she'd seen him on Aeten II.

But, now was not the time t o dwell on things. Instead, she'd done her best to take a lesson from those events. And it had helped her to become a stronger person because of it. Her attention was then drawn towards the small gathering around the tables. There were quite a few present. And their auras in the Force were as diverse as those emanating from the relics they were studying with interest. She stepped closer still, and finally found herself in the circle of figures which ringed the tables on which the relics were arrayed. For a long moment, she studied the faces of each person, before her gaze finally settled on Ember. She held his gaze for a long moment Words could not truly convey her emotions at this time, so she remained silent.

 

[Daedel]

[member="Ember Rekali"] @Dredge @Ostanes @Cennika Hawk @Dralos @Skye Mertaal [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Anija Betna"]

Daedel walked to the clearing and stood proudly as she looked upon the artifacts before them. Crafting was where she had excelled, much to her mother's chagrin, and the ancestors seemed to be more open to aiding her in the task than with some other things. Her dark eyes like pools of liquid night showed the anticipation that the rest of her face hid with practiced stoicism.

She dipped a hand into her bag and found the small ring she had made, her first actual success, it was a small simple thing that had been common in the ancient past but it was hers. She stepped forward and placed the item on the table, a ring of shape change among the other articles. It was good to contribute even just a little. She stepped back away from the items and took a place among the others calmly while she waited for the rest to gather.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Daedel"][member="Anija Betna"][member="Mia Monroe"][member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"][member="Skye Mertaal"][member="Dralos"][member="Cennika Hawk"][member="Ostanes"][member="Dredge"]

Not far away, through the trees, someone was killing a Graug. Ember didn't much care; Graug were Sithspawn, and not the innocent-victim kind, either. His attention centered on the assembled Witches and Witch-like persons and Witch affiliates and so forth.

He dialed up his helmet's vocoder, so his voice permeated the clearing as he stood and stepped forward.

"Tonight," he said, apropos of nothing, "I'll be showing you how to make what's called a Talisman of Finding. Can anyone tell me the main differences between a Talisman of Finding and a standard blood trail? I can think of at least three, so don't worry about getting the answer wrong. Just talk."

A hinged silver medallion, like a pocketwatch, levitated from one of the tables to Ember's bare hand, the only visible skin on him. He held up the talisman, dangling it from its chain, and showed it around while he waiting for someone to take a stab at the answers to his question.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Ostanes thought for a few moments before responding to the Elder's question. WIth his mind unclouding, he was beginning to recall things, but Dathomirian studies had never been his strong point. Always an intense interest, to be sure of things. But the culture was so insular and nigh xenophobic, and his time so pressed, he had never managed to make the interest more than an idle fancy. A hand came out from within the folded arms, revealed from within it's hidey spot, and rose to tap at the chin of his mask, skin showing an odd silver tracery of patterns, like tattoos, across his skin on the forearm and beyond the robed sleeves.

"As I understand it, a talisman of finding is imbued with the blood of the target... And seems to hold a sort of static version of themselves from the imbuement process. I admit ignorance on the process of creation itself for the talisman. Legends tell of some of them making knowledge of former self easier to regain after trauma or madness. So one would think, not to get too esoteric, that it was less the blood that was the power behind the talisman, and more than it was an agonist to the process of creation of it, and froze the magics into a certain format upon introduction into the ritual. So to speak. There is too the fact that anyone holding it can use it, wherein a blood trail only works for the one who applied it. It appears also, the talisman could be made independent of the subject knowing, only needing their blood, and I've not been told whether a talisman needs fresh blood for it's magics or not.

A blood-trail, on the other hand... They require blood from the target to be applied to the target, during the ritual. How complex or obvious that is, again I profess ignorance. What I do know is that, supposedly, the target feels some sort of... Sensation... At application, though whether from the blood, the magick, or a coincidence I am not sure. And that common sense dictates the blood would have needs to be as fresh as possible, and that only the practitioner could utilize the spell."

Here Ostanes bowed his hooded and masked head to Ember, in a semblance of returning the floor to him. As his head rose, eyes behind the mask colored a poisonous amber searched the crowd, thinking and weighing. Had he spoke too much, or too little? Would some of them know of Rave, who were gathered here? Would they recognize the trinket from her he wore on the hand he had tried to keep hidden in his sleeve? Or would they somehow be able to pierce Moridin's mask?

Shouldn't have revealed so much knowledge... That will arouse suspicion.... Stupid move... Now it is time to wait...

Spoiler

[member="Daedel"] | [member="Anija Betna"] | [member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] | [member="Skye Mertaal"] | [member="Dralos"] | [member="Cennika Hawk"] | [member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Daedel"][member="Anija Betna"][member="Mia Monroe"][member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"][member="Skye Mertaal"][member="Dralos"][member="Cennika Hawk"][member="Ostanes"][member="Dredge"]

"That's about as comprehensive as you can get without doing it yourself. Nice job -- Ostanes, is it?" Ember turned his attention to the rest of the crowd. "Long story short, you take a sample of someone's blood and put it in a talisman, you can track them. If you've been through the blood trail ritual, you can mark someone else with your blood and track them. Feels like a little burn to them, and leaves a little reddish-brown mark. Blood trail is a common technique in Clan Rekali; lots of people mark their family members and close friends. If you feel like going through the ritual, which isn't all that hard, there's a couple scrolls about it on the table by the dead tree. I've also been known to spray my own blood around when I know there's a stealther close by. Works like a charm.

"But today we're talking about talismans, and how to make them."

He'd had several blanks milled, just the metal part of the talisman, like hinged-face pocketwatches. Those were distributed to all present. At that point, Ember began walking them through the process of using the Force to imbue the blanks with the talisman-of-finding charm. The process involved a chant in Paecean, and a gentle green glow would swirl around the blanks.

 

[Skye Mertaal]

For Mertaal, there was always a distinct... line, that she had trouble with in regards to the Force. At the end of the day, she was an amalgam of different Force philosophies and culture clashes. The past, present, and her future were always in conflict. Truth be told, she preferred to keep herself in the dark. To mute the Force through artificial means and make herself appear to be no more than a typical Hunter.

It is what kept others safe.

The low timbre of patriarch of the Rekali clan was like the tether that drew her towards the small congregation. Topic of the day dealt with talismans. There was some irony in that. It had been talismans that had been at the root of finally unearthing the missing Jedi and Rekali's daughter. How long ago was that?

Lips thinned under the Mandalorian helm she wore, her purposeful gait taking her forward. Blank talismans were passed around, and one was handed to Skye by consequence. Her gauntlet-ed fingers would curl about the talisman set in the middle of her palm. It was as familiar as it was strange. A part of her as it was not.

For the present time, she remained quiet. Listening, watching.


[member="Ember Rekali"] @Ostanes @Daedel @Anija Betna [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] @Dralos @Cennika Hawk [member="Dredge"]

 

[Anija Betna]

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Skye Mertaal"] [member="Ostanes"] [member="Daedel"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] [member="Dralos"] [member="Cennika Hawk"]

A Talisman of Finding. Blood trail. She'd heard of the second one, though not so much the first. She knew of it in passing, at least. Something talk to Ember more about later, as she was interested in the ritual. But for now, she tried to focus on the current topic of discussion. She'd brought a small vial of Mirshko's blood for the task at hand and clutched it as she accepted the blank talisman with her free hand. She hoped, that by creating this talisman, that it might help prevent what had happened at Druckenwell from occurring again.

She listened carefully as Ember outlined the spell in Paecean, and she carefully and slowly repeated the words as she channeled the Force into the talisman. Her Paecean was somewhat lacking, but she was careful and slow as she repeated the phrases one by one. After a few minutes, The talisman began to feel somewhat warm in her palm, and it emitted a soft green glow. It was here that she waited for Ember to move on to the next step.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Anija Betna"], [member="Ember Rekali"], [member="Ostanes"], [member="Skye Mertaal"], everyone else


And so Ms. Tanaka quantum tunnelled into the thread through the power of space magic handwavium teleportation. Well, let's presume she was here before since walking in on the group of Witches, Witch-like persons and Witch friends might've been a tad awkward. Presumably she'd been standing in the background.


Anyhow, here she was now that her writer had gotten around to posting. Dathomir was not a planet she'd had the pleasure of visiting before. Her duties as an Inquisitor during the time of the Atrisian Empire had never taken her to this wild, untamed world. Then again, until a few weeks ago there'd been little cause to visit. There was a certain beauty to this planet, though.


Sumiko's expression was impassive but attentive while the Rekali patriarch directed the class. She didn't know the man personally, but certainly knew of him by reputation. After all, once upon a time Atrisia had allied with both CIS and the Mandalorians in the Ithor Treaty. However, those days were long gone and, to be frank, she didn't miss the old Empire, but that's another story.


Sumiko'd a long interest in Sith arcana, but Dathomirian studies had eluded her until now. The local culture was commonly derided as primitive, but then popular opinion was not something she cared about. Both the knowledge to craft a Talisman of Finding and make a blood trail would be most useful. Blank talismans were passed around, and so one found its way into the Atrisian's hands.


Slowly and carefully, she repeated the words spoken in Paecean. Truth be told, her command of the language could use improvement, but she was persistent and patient. One by one, she repeated the phrases and so some time later one could feel the Force being channelled through the talisman before it began to radiate a soft, green glow.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia rose finally from her seat at the edge of the clearing to join the group, her nerves settled enough to deem it safe to do so. Accepting a blank talisman she rolled it between her fingers. There was a familiarity there, a sensation that she'd done this before. A dark smile flitted across her face. "There are times, that I would give anything to get you out of my head." she muttered to herself, drawing her attention away from her own musings and back to the lesson at hand.

Drawing a knife from her boot, she drew it across her own finger allowing it to drop onto the talisman before her. Her voice joined the chorus of the others, force flowing between them all, empowering her in a way she'd never felt. The talisman was not for her benefit, she'd no one she needed to find, but someone always needed to be able to find her. She smiled slightly as a green glow swirled about the piece in her hand.

You'll never lose me again.

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"][member="Anija Betna"][member="Skye Mertaal"][member="Ember Rekali"][member="Ostanes"]

 

[Skye Mertaal]

[member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Sumiko Tanaka"][member="Anija Betna"][member="Ember Rekali"]

The concept of crafting a talisman was not unknown to her. An artform of the Nightsisters and one that had spread across different witch clans. Slowly, her thumb would rub and rotate around the surface of the talisman. Words in pacean grew, fluctuated, pulsing with power.

Thick, accented chants that resonated with the polyphonetic whispers of ancients past. Allyan magic was unlike anything ever felt within the Force; it was outside of it. Bearing secrets and empowering the wielders of that particular art with powers untold that one was unable to properly explain.

It simply was.

A deep shudder took the Hunter as she drew in a breath. Watching. Observing. Searing it all into memory.

 

[Edison Bulkhead]

Edison sat, and watched, and listened. She had joined the others from the beginning, gazing at the talisman's [member="Ember Rekali"] had brought, and one in particular that she recognized: the Talisman of Transformation. She had considered picking the thing up and donning it, but everyone else seemed content to observe only, so she decided these things weren't, in fact, gifts. Still, if Rekali didn't bring it up, she would make a point of asking.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Edison Bulkhead"] [member="Skye Mertaal"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Sumiko Tanaka"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Ostanes"] [member="Daedel"] [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]

The first lesson seemed to take forever -- a month and a half or thereabouts -- but was over within a couple of hours. All things considered, a Talisman of Finding ranked among the simplest of the traditional witch talismans.

"I think," said Ember, as he walked around examining their products, "you're starting to understand the link between the spirit realm and the physical substance. That's critical for moving forward. Most of the amulets you've made are functional to one degree or another, and with practice you'll be able to make better ones, or refine the ones you've already made. Books are available if you want to pursue this sort of thing.

"But I think we've spent long enough on Talismans of Finding. I saw some of you express interest in Talismans of Transformation. That's a very dangerous project.

"Then again, we do not take counsel from our fears.

"The usual Talismans of Transformation can turn the wearer into a bolma, a brackaset, a burra fish, an eollu, or a raven. The raven alone should tell you that these artifacts don't respect the law of conservation of mass. Where the mass goes to or comes from is an open question; our sources say the spirit world is involved, naturally. But the why isn't as important as the what next. Mass is no obstacle. A riding spider, a rancor -- all these things are possible. Now, while I teach the first rites behind making one of these talismans, feel free to try the artifacts. Become something other than yourself, and listen with other ears." He gestured to the talismans on the tables.