Restricted Section

[Orkamaat]

There were very few things that could throw him off these days. It was a state of mind born not of some special gift for patience or tolerance, but simply of his age. No identification today had enough space to list that multi-digit number, and it was safe to say that even the man himself had forgotten the last few numbers. Not that it made much of a difference, at this point. A century up, a century down, who really cared?

Not him, that much was for certain. What he did care about, however, was his collection of tomes and books. With a feather-light touch, the priest had put his precious collection upon those shelves, paying attention to every little detail so that nothing foul may befall the opus he had worked so hard to acquire. Physical books and writings were rare in this day and age, so anything that got destroyed would be nearly irreplacable without a Galaxy-wide hunt, for which the man, regrettably, had no time. With the current state of affairs as it was, Orkamaat was far to busy tending to the Primeval and those seeking enlightenment within its embrace, and however much he loved his collection, the priest simply couldn't afford to disappear on a matter so utterly… personal.

In order to avoid the need for such an expedition in the first place, he had forbade anybody from entering his library; Gods know that people didn't know how to treat ancient tomes properly. Uncultured youth. And were one such crass youngling to find themselves within this most treasured of rooms?

Well, not much upset him these days. There were always exceptions to the rule, however.

[member="Reine Bisset"]​

 

[Reine Bisset]

It wasn't every day that one found a treasure trove of knowledge. Nor was it every day that such a hidden jewel consisted of physical texts, tomes, and bound volumes. Reine fingered the small amulet at her throat as she read from one of the leather bound books. The amulet was but a spoil of war, something she took from the corpse of her defeated foe as a trinket; a trophy. Only later when she had cleaned the gore from the metal and donned it while pouring over the Sith writings she had taken from a tomb on Korriban did the amulet's true nature reveal itself.

The amulet translated the Sith writings for those who wore it, letting the wearer read the ancient texts as if they spoke the language as a native. And so she poured herself over the text before her, the writings within becoming known to her as the amulet allowed. It was strange to see a blindfolded woman reading, but she was Miraluka; she needed only the Force to see.

She wore her usual attire; corset, boots, and the rest. She usually abstained from armor, trusting in her abilities and bladework to see herself through rather than rely on the mundane powers of durasteel and armorweave. On her hip was her lightsaber, the long handled weapon glinting lethally in the room's light.

She sat in a simple chair, her legs crossed and stretched out before her in a position of comfort. In her hands was the leather book she read from, her expression one of thoughtful study.

She didn't hear anyone enter and, honestly, didn't care. As far as she knew this was open to others. The lack of signs and keep out warnings told her such.

[member="Orkamaat"]

 

[Orkamaat]

Having tended to his morning duties with the rest of the faithful, Orkamaat was heading for the library, something akin to glee blossoming in his chest at the prospect of settling down in the comfort of his favorite chair. He would choose one book, completely at random, and let the pages take him away, his fiery eyes dancing between the letters he knew so well.

Well, that was the plan, at least.

As soon as he entered the spacious room, however, Orkamaat realized something was dreadfully wrong; as if the air itself had been disturbed by an alien presence whose very being would tarnish his precious collection. He hastened his step, then, still as quiet as ever, and if he had a heartbeat, it would have stopped for a moment as he rounded a towering bookshelf and was greeted by a sight most foul.

There, in his chair, a woman whose visage was unknown to the man, her fingers — unprotected! — sullying the pages of his book. The audacity!

His left eyelid twitched ever so slightly in the half-light, and his lips narrowed into a single thin line.

"What exactly do you think you are doing in my library?" he finally uttered, his voice sounding somewhat strangled. He had naught but his typical, rich violet robes on his person, and even those were only meant to cover up the… inconsistencies in his stature. Wouldn't do to scare everyone away, after all.

[member="Reine Bisset"]

 

[Reine Bisset]

As the newcomer spoke, Reine picked up the slightly strangled tone he had to his voice. She could see he resonated oddly in the Force. The presence wasn't twisted or ethereal, simply... different. Changed. Odd. Unusual. She figured between that and how angry he sounded saying she was in his library, there could only be one explanation.

"I'm reading," she said, pointing at the book, her tone conveying the tone of someone stating the obvious. "What are you? The librarian here? Got anything else on Sith Magic? I'm almost done with this one and it still hasn't explained some of the techniques."

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs and yawned slightly. Once again comfortable, the Miralukan carefully turned the page and returned to reading. So far, she'd learned a great deal from this tome. He charcoal rubbings and holovideo of the tomb from Korriban spoke at great length of ancient powers and old spells, but very little evidence on just how to do them existed there. This book, however, explained a great deal on various spells and Sith magic even if it did skimp on certain aspects of some of the spell techniques.

[member="Orkamaat"]