The Hazards of Sheep

[Serian Loria]

Settling into his new faction wasn’t nearly as hard as he had expected. In a lot of ways it was similar to the life he’d led in his past, but there were a host of new things that set it apart. He still walked with a cane and would still for a while, but he was healing and that was enough. He even adjusted to his low position, though he was doing everything he could to work towards being placed in a position to actually do something. Missions were afoot, but because of his low status he wasn’t even considered to be asked, which was irksome. He found himself working for others within the temple, not just for those under the auspices of Neth.

He was taking paperwork to another part of the facility when he found himself surrounded by a small mob of people. He couldn’t even fathom their tongue, it made little sense and what few words of Basic he heard were broken and gave him little inkling as to just what they wanted. Trapped as he was, the whole lot of them blocking the hall and his ability to deliver what he needed, he was growing rather frustrated. Outwardly he appeared calm, but under that surface his temper was sparking. If he was sure they could understand him he’d have forced them to move aside, but unfortunately his requests had fallen on deaf ears.

All he could do was wait and keep reign on his temper, he doubted highly that if he used Power to fix the problem it would be taken well with those above him. That, and only that, was the reason why he didn’t swat the tear stained woman who clung to him so aside and move on. He hated dealing with irate people, even more so when he couldn’t understand a single word of their tongue. The thought that kept running through his head was, how did they even make it this far? His lit ruby gaze glittered dangerously as he brushed her hands off his person, he tried in vain to push past, but only succeeded a step before a couple of the men closed in and forced him back.

His temper grew a notch at that, but he had a strong hold on his desires to make a stain of them on the walls, ceiling and floors. However the thought was growing more and more tempting by the second…



[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

As the newcomer moved into the Hall of Hali, Crystal smirked. The followers of Hali typically swarmed new comers to make them feel welcome, and you know, indulge themselves in whatever fashion struck their fancies at that moment. The Sith Princess could sense his discomfort, then irritation, and anger. When things had gone far enough, Crystal stood up and clapped her hands.

“Let our guest pass,” the Priestess commanded.

Reluctantly, the crowd dispersed. But they were easily redirected. That was the great thing about her followers. They seldom needed direction.

She moved toward Serian, and spoke when they were about six feet away from each other, with a smile. “Evidently, no one warned you about the halls of Hali the indulgent one.” A chuckle escaped her. “Welcome. I am Crystal, a priestess of Hali.”

Crystal wore the robes of Hali, but her long blonde locks fell over her shoulders in curls. “You have something for me.” She extended her hand to accept it.

 

[Serian Loria]

The voice and the dispersing of people was very welcome and he looked at the woman for a moment before walking over to her and bowing. It was a short movement, graceful, but stiff for his bones disliked the movement. “I am new to these halls Priestess, I apologize if I disrupted anything important.”

The papers were merely information on a planet of interest, but what might catch her eye was that it was written by hand and not merely printed off. The writing was elegant, neat, legible and careful, not merely a tangled scrawl. Whoever took care of this for her had taken the time to make sure every word put down was able to be read clearly. It wouldn’t be clear if it was the handiwork of the man before her, but such tasks were relegated to someone of low status, which he would be given how new he was.

He would indeed be a new face, his lit ruby gaze like flawless gems lit from behind. His skin wasn’t overly tanned or too pale, his form lithe and athletic. His hair was an ink black so dark that in certain light had blue highlights. His voice pleasant to the ears, but accented oddly, though educated and precise. The thing that would also set him apart from the typical acolyte of Neth was his robes. They hugged his body so as to be out of his way, but allowed free movement and was cut in an oddly old world fashion, yet it would suit him. One might expect the typical dark orange accented by black, except it was the opposite, black accented by dark orange.

Despite the cane and the stiffness of his body, he moved with grace, fluid like a cat. She wouldn’t sense and aura of Power on him, he kept it carefully contained, but he had something about his manner that said he wasn’t one who didn’t have it. His eyes were not ones you saw in a devotee either, his eyes saw through that glamor, but his tone and manners were impeccable giving no hint to anything that would cause offence. He was an enigma thus far, attractive, but mysteriously out of place. Not the usual scholarly sort that one would expect to join Neth.



[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal grinned. “Disrupted? Hardly. This is the hall where followers of Hali answer their every whim. Their every desire. Here, they can be free.”

She looked over the papers presented to her, albeit briefly. Reading them would come later. “I thank you for taking the time to deliver these to me. To whom do I owe thanks for the information?”

The Priestess noted the colours of Neth the Keeper on his robes. They fitted the man before her rather nicely. Very well suited indeed. “You have arrived recently I gather, since I have not seen you before now and I am more or less familiar with those that follow the living gods.” She did not ask for his name, as that was something that one offered on their own time.

 

[Serian Loria]

He highly doubted there was freedom in giving lease to any and all of one’s desires. Still if the philosophy worked for them, who was he to judge? “I was given the task my lady, I know its standard form to merely print it off, but the machine wasn’t working so I did it by hand. Did I forget something?”

He was positive that he hadn’t, but then it was a possibility as well. “I am indeed, my name is Serian Loria and I am happy to serve.”

It was only half true, he was happy to serve, he just wasn’t happy serving under those he was currently taking orders from. The only thing he could do was catch his bearings and learn how best to navigate under those he did to earn the position he wanted. That was the best course he knew to take and he was determined. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He wasn’t impatient to leave, but it was merely proper form to ask.



[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal shook her head. “No, probably not. I was merely curious as to the hand of this penmanship belonged to. I haven’t seen penmanship like this in decades.” She smiled and offered her hand to him. “A pleasure to meet you, Serian Loria. Will you walk with me?” Her inquiry came with her signature head tilt as she waited for his response.

The Princess always assumed that the answer would be yes. And so, she began to walk out of the halls of Hali. “While I have no doubt that you are happy to serve me, I cannot imagine that that is the case with all that you serve.” She smirked. If that was the case, he would be doomed to be a servant for the duration of his time with the Crusade. Crystal communicated silently as she smirked. “There are many that are unworthy of your service. I trust you can make that distinction of course, but the Crusade has many places for those that can set themselves apart from those unworthy of their place."

She spoke out loud again “tell me about yourself. What were you doing before? What led you here?”

 

[Serian Loria]

A wry smile touched his lips when she commented on his penmanship, his hands twitching at the memory lashed into his digits. As a child his father had punished him for writing sloppy by lashing his hands with thin razor wire. As was the case with anything he did or any hint of possible failures, he was always injured in some manner and he never had praise or even kindness, just degrees of greater or lesser cruelty for any and all things in regards to himself. The fact that she was impressed didn’t really register, he couldn’t recall praise for any of the things he did and who was to say if hers was true and merely politeness? Because of this she would find it strange that he felt nothing at all, most people would preen under such words even if internally, he didn’t.

He took very little pride in what he did because he never learned that he could, indeed do so or even learned to do so. People could and did lie, who could say if the words were truth and so, they didn’t do anything at all except wash over him. He followed after her readily enough, she expected it and while he was sure those above him will note his absence, her desires seemed to trump their expectations. He answered in kind, his mental touch gentle and hardly present at all, a mere whisper though clear and easily understood. I do not think it wise that I give voice to the complaints I have. I am of low status at this time and...thus cannot affect change except to change neutrality to dislike in my superiors. Something that would benefit me not at all and only cause further irritations I would much prefer to do without.

His words would show her plenty that he had no intentions of staying in his low position, but had the desires and drive to rise in status and put those above him under into a position to do as he wished instead. The hunger for more was present, a deep driving need for more which extended to what he was doing and more, like he had a void inside him that drove him on in the hopes of filling. There was an undercurrent of sadness, pain and ever smoldering anger that was always present behind his emotions. Most would never see it, only one strong in sensing emotions would catch hint of it.

“I was one of the leading archivists in the confederacy, Isley gave me my place and when he disappeared and the changes in government happened, I and those under me fell in disfavor as things became militarized. I came under Aesir Inari and her priestess Loxa Visl’s eyes when the priestess brought me to her for healing. I owe them both my life and that beat any lingering ties to my former faction. I owed Isley for giving me a place, but his absence changed that, though I am not one to simply change my loyalties without great need. I felt I no longer had a place, their assistance gave me the final push.” He paused for a moment and sighed softly “My place is here now and I am ambivalent to those I once called comrades for, aside from Isley and an apprentice that disappeared with him, there is no one else I had any ties to.”

Which meant that were he called to kill any of them he could and would batting not even an eye as he stepped over corpses wearing familiar faces. His loyalties, once earned, were absolute to those that had them and he would follow their desires without hesitation. He did have a will and desires of his own, he wasn’t easily led, but he would serve. He served Neth because that was where his skills lay and it might not be clear that those skills weren’t being used hardly at all. What she didn’t know was that his writing was typical in all cases, he didn’t take time on it, that was just how he wrote. It was hardly difficult for him to write things out for he can copy anything he’d read down flawlessly after a suitable glance. His mind was like a library itself, once he read a map, saw a painting, read a book, he could never forget and thus could write it out without flaw.

He was in short very valuable, but currently not in a position to bring esteem to himself to stand out and rise higher. In his estimation he didn’t think those above him were much pleased with having a new face to stir up the hierarchy. Even though he had the lowest position, his work was impeccable and thus caused friction. He didn’t slack, he didn’t shirk, he did as he was told as flawlessly as he could going that extra mile to make sure it was done correctly. It was bound to cause problems because, in his eyes, those he worked with could be doing better and weren’t. He desired to see things changed, but couldn’t achieve that, not yet, but he would even if he had to remove obstacles in his way.






[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Having taught many of her descendants how to write, among other things, she could tell that his learning experience had not exactly been a pleasant one. Whomever had taught him the basics had done so with methods that she did not agree with. With children, it was much different. A fine balance was required if one didn’t wish to raise a psychopath. Yes, she was very much a Sith, but she didn’t make learning a negative experience. That was a quick way to crush an apprentice’s thirst for learning. And that was simply wasting her own time which Crystal did not like at all.

Crystal had to smile at his silent words. He was wrong. But he would learn that soon enough. Things were much different in the Crusade than elsewhere in the galaxy. She listened as he described his former position and how he came to be at the Temple. Loyalty could always be topped by obligation. It mattered little now where he’d come from. He was with the Crusade now, and his path had begun a new.

She smiled as she led the way out of the Temple toward the street before turning sharply toward her usual training grounds outside the Temple. They wouldn’t be bothered here.

It wasn’t until they’d arrived that she spoke again. “You serve Neth the keeper, so you clearly have a brain in your head. You can make the distinction between fact and fiction. You have had everything you’ve been taught violently instilled into your very being. While it is not my preferred method of teaching, the result is ultimately the same.”

Crystal paused and clasped her hands behind her back before making another inquiry. “A Temple is a place of learning, and worship. But how does one determine what is fact and what is fiction?”

She knew the answer. It depended on one’s beliefs. When he’d finished responding, she spoke again. “To those that serve the Gods and Goddesses, there is no fiction. Those with the power of the Gods have the favour of the Gods. That is your advantage. I am certain that you can determine the appropriate time and place to advance.” Crystal smiled.

 

[Serian Loria]

He had to keep firm reign on his tongue then for she touched close to the mark and it wasn’t pleasant. Pain, it had been like mother’s milk to him from the moment he could recall being brought into his father’s presence. Every second was new agony to skin too young and sensitive, he had only two choices; survive or die. Survival meant enduring pain unfathomable by most and it was a good day when the suffering was half of what it could be if he failed in his father’s expectation; which was often. Indeed, the days of less pain were so few he could recall them amidst the blending days of nerve burning agony. The one question that he had despite the bitter anger, how had she known?

He never gave anything away and he hadn’t felt his mind probed, so how? His hands were the only part of him visible that had scars, silvery things that took an eye for detail to really see or notice. Those scars were many and so old that spoke of having been received when he was a child. He realized that then and eyed her with renewed interest, the only time she might have caught sight of them was when he’d handed her the papers. So then, she had used that minute amount of time to even study that part of him. His respect for her grew, but so did his wariness, for she had perceptive eyes that if he wasn’t careful now might see much he’d rather keep hidden.

Her talk about the religion of the Crusade made him stifle his contempt. He knew where the Force originated and it had no origins from the hand of some fairy tail omniscient and omnipotent being. While he could touch that Power, it was at its most basic like a tornado, a force of nature borne of life. Regardless of the path taken with it, it was and would continue to be fathomless and without mastery. “I’m afraid that the...philosophy of the Crusade is something I am still adjusting to. So on that, I can speak little.”

That was only a half-truth, he could speak plenty and none of it at all favorable when it came to his regard of that which far too many believed. However he was surprisingly respectful, not even a hint of his distaste and contempt was heard. He was careful in how he said things, smooth like a courtier, saying truth and phrased in such a way that the listener might only hear what would best please them. It was diplomatic at best, none of his real feelings or thoughts colored it. It might be out of place in a sea of of needy supplicants whose only desire was to please and manipulate to get what they want. He was keeping his self hidden, giving her hardly anything at all of his real motives, personality and thoughts.

It was a good tactic for a man used to swimming in waters filled with certain death. He didn’t know where the sharks were and thus was doing his best to seem like an uninteresting meal, all the while his mind hard at work behind his innocuous mask. He was purposefully making sure that those around him fell into the trap of thinking him harmless. To steer them into underestimating him so that when he had them where he wanted with little fuss. He was like a wolf in sheeps clothing, a predator in the guise of something safe. Until he felt secure this method served him best and only a fool would discount and overlook him. Which he was now fairly certain that the company he was in was not one such and he’d do well to tread carefully till he was certain on which side of her regard he fell on.


[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal was learning more from what he wasn’t saying than from the words he spoke. The damage done to him as a child clearly had an effect on him as an adult. But the question was, did it have a real effect on how he utilized the Force? He had a great deal of self control, which took more discipline than many who had been abused could muster. Perhaps there was hope for him yet. She was a practitioner of Sith Sorcery among other things, but she was certainly not reckless.

His emotions radiated off of him for anyone with empathic abilities to pick up on, and there were other clues as well. She would keep things calm and unthreatening, though she was not by any means underestimating him. He could very well snap at any moment, or become irrational. And that was not at all productive.

Crystal tilted her head. “You have questions. Ask me.” As a comforting gesture, she took a seat and crossed her legs under her. “Be comfortable.”

 

[Serian Loria]

He sat, grateful, for though he wasn’t broken still, his bones still needed care lest he undo the hard work the Reviver did. The walk hadn’t been terrible, but it had been taxing and until he was back to his former strength it wasn’t comfortable. “I don’t have any questions, anything I might wish to know has already been answered and the rest comes when I find I have need.”

A fully honest answer, for at the moment he couldn’t think of anything to ask. Well, not in regards to the Crusade, but he had plenty of questions to ask about her. “It’ll be easier if you ask questions of me my lady, it’ll give me something to ask in return.”

He sat back pleased to be in the sun for the warmth seeped into his body and eased his discomfort. If he’d had any skills to heal himself he’d have gladly used a portion of his energy just to be free to move as he wished. He disliked the necessity of using a cane quite a lot for he felt restless with the need to be hale again.


[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal chuckled a little. “Everyone has questions. Especially one who serves the keeper of knowledge. You can ask me anything, including personal questions.” She leaned back on her hands then stretched her legs out in front of her, letting her blonde curls catch the light and heat of the sun.

“Alright, a question for you first then. Which of your parents was a Sith?” She purposely used the past tense, assuming that he broke free of the abuse. However, it was also an information gathering tactic, as people had a habit of correcting tenses when appropriate. It was opening a door and seeing if he would walk through it, or slam it in her face.

 

[Serian Loria]

So she was under the impression that the abuse was inflicted due to early training. It almost made him want to laugh, if his father had known he’d had the potential things would have been worse. “Neither, I didn’t start my training till I was sixteen.”

Which should tell her plenty without having to give more details. “What laws govern those of us with Force skills? I haven’t been given any useful answers in that regard and I want to know what limitations are set.”


[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal furrowed her eyebrows. She had been wrong. That meant that one of his parents had abused him. That was disappointing indeed. “Have you dealt with your parents since you began training? And who did you train with?”

That was a very interesting question. Laws that governed them. That was almost funny. “We are subject to the same laws as every citizen, but we are crafty folk, and can often escape punishment for breaking laws. Limitations? Not with the Force. The limit is the scope of your imagination.”

The imagination made for endless possibilities when it came to manipulating the Force. Even flying, and changing the weather, and one’s appearance. There was no limit.

 

[Serian Loria]

He nodded “My mother died at my birth, fighting to see that both she and I died, she despised me as much as my sire. My father eventually died by my hand, though for a long time I wasn’t satisfied.” In some ways he still wasn’t, but the emotions were long dead “I trained under Darth Altiras the Seer, though I doubt his name will be familiar, after my ascension to Master he left the Empire and presumably died of the sickness eating at him. The name he gave to me upon my earning it was Darth Almas, mirrored some to his own title. I was the acting overseer of our archives, before I too eventually took my leave.”

He knew the old records were in Neth’s library, he’d seen it himself, but he didn’t know if she had read them or would recall that his full name, title and position was listed among the ranks of those who’d cared for their libraries. He doubted any other remnants of his past still existed, he certainly hadn’t left a very bloody swath enough to be written down as some great Sith victory over those weaker. His contributions had been much more subtle, for he was Darth Almas the Shadow. Information and the gathering of had been what he’d provided best, along with a host of political things that were in his opinion hardly worth noting either.

It mattered little to him that he was forgotten, it wasn’t like he was expecting to encounter anyone from his past. Those faces were long since turned to dust and good riddance.

[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal was both saddened and impressed. He’d overcome a great deal of hatred just to stay alive. And, he’d gotten to eliminate the problem himself. While it wasn’t always satisfying to do so, it took care of a problem. That in itself was where the satisfaction came in. He was correct, she had never heard of that Darth, but in fairness, she’d spent much of her existence in the Tapani sector and did not make it her business to worry about what the other Sith Lords were doing. That would only cause further issues.

“You have come a long way since your birth. By comparison, my history is not nearly as interesting or eventful. My father, and his father before him, ruled as the king of the Tapani Sector. I was the second born, along with my twin, the third born. Our eldest brother was raised as the heir to the throne, as he did not have any talents in the Force. I was and am the strongest in my line, never to truly be succeeded. Though I raised and trained my descendants for five generations.”

 

[Serian Loria]

To that he didn’t say anything, he wasn’t proud of what he had done, but it had been necessary, at least to him. “What year were you born?”

He already had an inkling, but he wanted to make sure that he had the math correctly for it would help him better explain why she would not have been aware. Certainly he could just tell her, but that wasn’t something he did and, he wanted to know the year out of curiosity. He didn’t ask her age, that would have been rude, but asking the year was a general question that wouldn’t hopefully be discourteous. Besides that she already said she had raised five generations that at least said a century each providing the children were not as long lived as she.

It meant perhaps a century each of life. He didn’t envy her at all, if he had sired any children he’d never wish to outlive them. While he was still in his mid twenties, he had been alive for much much longer, even if the vast majority of it had been in stasis. The years still counted, even if he’d gained none of the experience and knowledge therein. It was an odd thing to contemplate that he was, technically, far older than he felt. He understood what all the passage of time meant, but on the other hand it still felt so strange. All those he counted as allies had long disappeared before the last and most final straw.

He still wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. There was nothing to hold him, to center him and it made everything around him feel detached, even though he had company before him. His lit ruby gaze was troubled, distant and sad, those same emotions mirrored in the general feel to him, a rare moment where he forgot to guard himself in the wake of such disturbance within. He was lost and didn’t know what to do about it and hoped he would have a chance at last to settle in one place. His unfocused gaze drifted towards the ground, did he dare hope for that? He wasn’t sure and he wasn’t all that sure if he could try even a tentative measure of trust.
He didn’t want it to backfire and be disappointed, thats even if the woman before him would wish such from him. She did seem, at least for a moment, someone who might have more experience on the matter and might have advice to give, but how to ask without seeming to directly? He’d have to see.

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal smirked at his question. “Over four hundred and forty years ago.” She tilted her head. “I don’t look that old, do I?” She knew the answer to that question of course. The Princess looked the same as she had four hundred years before. That was the beauty of the spell that she’d learned four hundred years before when discovering it amongst her house’s possessions. Her father had hidden things everywhere, and by the looks of some of the possessions, not even he had discovered all of them. If he had, he’d chosen not to use them to his advantage. Perhaps immortality hadn't appealed to him. She’d never know.

“You have more questions, I can tell. Go ahead and ask me. I don’t have much to hide.” She grinned and crossed her legs under again.

 

[Serian Loria]

He smirked at her amused “I’m technically eight hundred and ten years old, I rose in the sith four hundred and ten years before your conception. Though the method used to prolong my life was stasis and its been an interesting transition. I’m hoping the disassociation with everything around me finally goes away as its hard to feel centered, but I’ve managed to cope with it.”

Which hadn’t come off all that badly, it told her he was struggling without sounding like he was fishing, yet also making it sound like advice would be welcome. “Would have much preferred a method that allowed me to stay conscious and even grow in experience, but given what all I’ve learned I’m glad to have skipped most of the sickness and upheaval between then and now. The fact that I and my past fell into obscurity is an added bonus. Others might lust and marvel at being known through the ages, but I’ve never cared much for such ‘honors’.”

No, the ever driving quest for more and more glory never appealed to him. An odd trait in one of their kind, especially given the time he lived in then, but it afforded him his chance to slip to the present unmolested.

[member="Crystal"]

 

[Crystal]

[member="Serian Loria"]

Crystal tilted her head as she listened to Serian. “Well don’t I feel like an infant by comparison. How long have you been out of stasis? Perhaps you haven’t had enough time to re-adjust to the galaxy around you. Meditation may help you, but there are other methods as well.”

She considered how to make her inquiries without sounding ignorant or insensitive. “Did the stasis affect you physically? Or is there another reason that you seem to have physical difficulties?” Crystal had noted the stiffness, and the cane. Until now, it didn’t seem appropriate to make an inquiry. Hopefully she didn’t offend him, since she was rather enjoying their interactions. But, it would be difficult for him to out run her.