Private Theology of the Sith

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Now that he was a known factor on the galactic stage again, with plans rapidly advancing toward his next project, The Shaper had already received several visitors of varying stripe and caliber, and today was no different. As he was aware there was a Lord of the title Darth Vord and an acolyte by the title of "Nwul" and the irony of the acolyte's title was far from lost on the ancient Sith. Corbos was nothing approaching peaceful, least of all with it's Master upon it's surface, with his palace as the epicenter of a roiling planet-wide maelstrom of energy. A true and veritable Force Storm that rent the surface of Corbos with jagged claws of plasma and fire, a simmering deluge of power that parted harmlessly to allow the other Sith access to the planet's surface. While he had been happy to display a bit of his work to Srina Talon, showcasing a small hint of the great work to come, to these two he owed and gave nothing. The finery was replaced, the tables reset with food and drink prepared. Lavish robes of finest clothe with decorative protrusions of Dark Side tendrils draped his muscularly crafted frame, The Iron Crown and his Whilstones sat proudly atop his brow, casting their mockery of the Light onto all that surrounded him. Such was the newfound power of The Shaper since his time as Emperor that now maintaining even these Dark Side Tendrils was so casual, so easy, they were nothing but mere decoration for his clothing.

Long raven locks, sculpted and formed to painstaking volume and softness, cascaded down around The Shaper's face and neck, like a waterfall of darkness spawned from the crown he wore, like shadows cast from the corona of light that alit upon his creations. Eyes simmering with orange-burnt red The Shaper would calmly seat himself at one end of a comparatively modest feasting table, refreshments and victuals on full display for his guests. The two approaching Sith would, the same as Alisteri, the same as Malum and the same as Srina, be awash in The Shaper's font of darkness. Invigorating them if they so chose to sup of the offered shadow, the crackling energy of Corbos and The Shaper theirs to relish in if they wished. Power overwhelming. Passions aflame and drifting upon the air as deep, dark syllables in the ancient language of the Sith at the edge of perception, The Shaper's presence was all at once something eldritch and cordial.

Once the doors to the dining hall were opened, with Darth Vord and Nwul allowed inside, The Shaper did not rise to meet his guests immediately. Instead his attention was focused immediately, exclusively, on the ring upon Nwul's finger. His eyes cooling to a steely grey, his eyes moving in a slow, contemplative blink as the energy about the two all at once cooled and sharpened. The Shaper was not an easy being to surprise or unsettle, and this being having the possession of his beloved Sorzus in his possession achieved both at once... for a fleeting moment. The crown he bore, his craft, was of similar ancient providence, steeped in similar power to what Nwul bore, and the echoed hissing of the Sith language upon the wind snapped and hissed for a single syllable before all went still and quiet. The Shaper would then rise, his gaze now turning to the eyes and faces of his guests as he swept an arm to the other chairs present. His voice not echoing from his lips and, instead, reverberated through the Force itself as he spoke.

"Welcome Darth Vord, Acolyte Nwul, to Corbos. I am The Shaper and you are welcome here, so long as I wish it, make yourselves comfortable. I am curious as to the reason for your visit, other emissaries from Darth Ophidia have already acted as my guests are you, perhaps, here for similar reasons?"

Tags: Astrid pentoghast Darth Nwul

Honorary Tag for Kai Bamarri out of respect for their theological threads on discussing the Force

 

[Darth Nwul]

From one world to the next, a jaunty adventure through the stars, hopping from place to place in search of history, knowledge, and the lost culture of a people. The Sith were once something more than just a disjointed band of cultists raging against a galaxy. There once had been plays and songs sung, there once had been discourse and rationality, there once had been dignity and pride, a sense of duty. Now? A shadow of their former self. From world to world, the Steward of the Dark Side collected the fragments of what had ocne been and performed one of his sacred duties, to protect it. One day, he would see to the restoration of the Sith as a people and not a warlord state. One day. For now, he would chase leads and scour the galaxy.

Such was the purpose thrust upon him by the Dark Side. Such was what lead him, through visions in the dark, to the desolate Corbos and a presence int he force he had only heard whispers of. A mighty sith who had remained neutral despite his claim of an imperial throne. A curiosity and a notably accomplished wielder of the force. The Shaper. There was something to be learned here, or perhaps taught, the vision was unclear. But it had come with the weight of the force behind it and he would not ignore the wishes of the Dark Side.

That was what lead him through the force storm, that was what brought him to the fortress, and through it's halls, thats what brought him to the seat of power of Arctus Silmar .

Nwul entered the room without a great deal of fanfare, his daughters walking one step behind him until he passed the threshold into the chamber. At which point the two rattataki women stood aside and knelt in a reverent prayer pose, waiting for him to leave the room and rejoin them. While their robes were simple and almost monastic, decorated only with golden threads, his robes were markedly more elegant-if form fitting. A dark high collar around his neck marked him as Kissai, a sith priest, but his bearing was more of a sith warrior or sorcerer. Derriphan, his lightsaber, hung at his hip and the Ring of Sorzus Syn decorated his middle finger on his left hand. His dark hair hung around his face casually, obscuring his eyes. Both of them were a glowing molten gold, the red that marked most sith (those who used hate and anger exclusively) was notably absent.

Now that he entered the room, it wasn't just his eyes. His very presence was different from most sith. He was like a maelstrom of emotions swirling around inside a single body. Hundreds of lifetimes worth of experiences all condensed into the purest expressions of feelings. An undying love radiated from him just as intensly as an undying fury, only to be replaced by ageless grief. Yet his expression remained impassive, only a smug smile decorating his handsome face. A smile just beneath molten eyes that seemed to cover up something terribly wrong. Like an old god had weaved together threads of madness to coil into a fascimile of sanity. Tentacles and depths beyond the centuries and millenia hid behind that gaze, a monster just waiting to surface after so long.

Despite his apparent bearing, he was humming as he walked into the room, something jaunty and exciting. He stopped at the doorway and blinked, his smug smile widening into a tooty grin as he tilted his head to the right. "What a welcome!" He crowed, clapping his hands together, "To think you were expecting me and..." He hadn't seen someone else coming, had he missed them? He shrugged dramatically and sauntered over to one of the chairs, throwing himself into it with a groan. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, appreciating the comfortable furniture before sitting up and leaning forward a bit to look at his host and got back to his feet, tilting forward into a low-angle bow. He opened his eyes and radiated his smile, "The Steward of the Dark Side greets you, Master of Corbos, I am Nwul. And the dark side has directed me here to teach or learn, whatever that means," He shrugged and sat back down, holding out a ceramic bottle he'd been carrying towards the man.

"Grain Wine made from Korribani Spring Water, blessed by my priests as well," He smiled, "An offering for you, as thanks for the hospitality." He said easily, without an ounce of malice or deciet behind his words.

Astrid pentoghast Arctus Silmar

 

[Astrid pentoghast]

Tag: Darth Nwul Arctus Silmar

Astrid had navigated the force storm around corbos the young night sister was drawn here she was a sith sorceress and nightsister who had talent in the darkside but next to the likes of arctus and empyrean she might as well be newborn baby. And so she came to gleam any sort of knowledge she may from one so highly esteemed by the sith order or. ATLeast gauge the man to see how she needs to improve. She wasn't so full of herself to see that she needed to do so unlike some sith who think themselves gods unfoundly.

As Astrid exited her ship she wore a tight black silk dress that was black as night that blended with her raven hair which was painstakingly well kept along with her toned girlish physique and make up. That enhanced her looks instead of hiding them or being faked on or distracting she was here to impress as much as discuss as she walked the halls easily able to find arctuses location. Maybe it was the alchemist in her she could sense that he was in the middle of a project she wouldn't press it she didn't want to displease her host. Or the being that could destroy her like she could destroy most civilians in the galaxy.

She noticed nwuls daughters praying was she late and didn't realize it not showing hesitation she walked in she saw nwul and although he held respect or acted like it he did make himself at home a bit. "I thank you for seeing me master of corbos and giving us some of your time" she said she was familiar with the darkside tendrils she knew the spell personally. As she sat down like a lady and restraitened her dress "my name is Astrid or Darth vord as you said earlier" she was being polite little else she held no malice or hatred towards this man or nwul. "I have brought you teachings of nightsister magic translated to galactic basic if they are not to your liking I can send something more to your liking" she said sitting there.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Seeing the two entities before him for the first time The Shaper drank in their demeanor as much as their presence in the Force. This Nwul individual was a walking, talking, breathing lie if ever he saw one. Boisterous, bristling with the Force in a way few in galactic history could claim, with a myriad of bemoaning souls and emotions screeching from his composite soul. The Shaper stared at the casual man, eyes far-away and unseeing for a moment, before he tilted his head softly in contemplation, and nodded slowly in recognition of Nwul's offering. His response coming in a surprisingly soft murmur.

"Quite the title you claim for yourself Lord Nwul, not the first, and never to be the last."

A polite smile met Nwul's own roguish charm, a small chuckle leaving the Master of Corbos as he added.

"Aren't you quite the saccharin Steward? Truly the sweetest murmurings of the dark in words, and a fitting illumination for the sycophants of the Light in the flesh."

Turning his gaze next to the woman who had accompanied Nwul The Shaper nodded politely to Astrid, his smile fading for a moment, and the woman's genuine thanks even for his time made The Shaper quite pleased. Two beings of ravishing interest at his table, plans accelerating ever-onward, and now a truly useful gift in a book on Nightsister magics. A tome on a sect of the Force that, frankly, The Shaper had never seen it as worth his time to go out and seek but.... if it was going to waltz into his arms he was genuinely with this gift. Something approaching a warm smile, impressed and pleased, creasing his handsome features into a chiseled smirk as he met Astrid's gaze.

"Quite wonderful Darth Vord you do your sisters proud in your decorum and you look lovely for the occasion."

With a subtle exertion through the Force The Shaper would summon servants to the table, cloaked and reserved as they poured drink for those present. The Shaper would idly sip some wine, exhaling softly, and tap a finger once upon the glass before humming.

"To cut straight to business, honored guests, at the danger of seeming an improper host, my senses tell me that our people are once more divided and that the Sith are...... blurred. I have already been met by visitors of a fractious nature, factions upon beliefs upon politics....."

Sighing softly The Shaper would set the wine glass down and recline in his chair, keeping Nwul and Astrid in his gaze on either side of the table, as he nodded his head forward.

"As such I feel it only appropriate to ask the.... current generation of Sith for your perspective. Long has my vision through the Dark watched our people, countless have come and gone on Korriban alone, the Dark Side constantly shifting in service of multitudinous whims beyond counting..... as such.... these factions, tell me of them. As well as what your own views on what it means to be Sith and, more to the point, if capable I would be enamored with your thoughts on the meaning behind the lines of our Code...."

Darth Nwul Astrid pentoghast