Things forbidden have a secret charm...

[Julius Sedaire]

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Location: Dathomir Wilds​

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It was a risk, really, to reveal his private work space to someone outside his 'clique' as it was. But sometimes a great risk was needed for an even greater reward. Ostanes had been dreaming for years of this possibility, of this one golden opportunity. Ever since the disappearance, resurgence, and then sudden death of [member="Rave Merrill"] he had surmised there was a vacuum left in the 'big players' as it were. Not in terms of knowledge and ability, oh no.. Ones like [member="Isley Verd"] and [member="Dissero"] and more had undeniable power and ability. But in terms of raw ambition and the penchant and want for glory, power, and influence and affluence? Rave was a singularly beautiful woman in that regard, and into the void of her presence, Ostanes hungered to step.

And so, he had retreated to Dathomir, leaving behind his darker experiments on Tattooine, and turning to more sane pursuits. He still bore the scars of his work with the Codex, shimmering, almost translucent marks, much like a branding iron to the skin, but without the puckering of a healed burn, just the oddly waxy skin. The trailing marks covered much of his body, and seemed to persist in any guise the Shii'do took. What the long term effects would be, he was still unsure of. When Rave had used it, a Dark God had been summoned, and near a dozen Masters of the Force were required to slay it. Hopefully no one recognized the scarring patterns as passages from the Codex... Whilst he had not summoned anything physically, the insane drive for knowledge had driven him to certain... Acts....Never the less, the workshop had been built. Akure was left to mostly run itself, which it could do quite admirably.

He had taken immeasurable amounts of profit and siphoned them into the R&D sectors which he controlled. So massive company funds were now layered and passed through shell games to be exclusively his. It was possibly not exaggeration to say he was the singularly richest person in the Galaxy, or so near to it as only ones like [member="Alric Kuhn"] and [member="Danger Arceneau"] competed. And if that were the level of the game he were at, he was fine with his placing as third. Really, from his brief dealings with the two, he admired them, but they seemed too capitalist. True power come from knowledge, all the money in the world didn't replace or transmute that fact.

The funds had been used sparingly, to begin setting up a personal workshop for Ostanes on Dathomir, where he had begun to learn the traditions of the locals, from none other than [member="Ember Rekali"] at first. Their mindset fit his really, and so for the first time in decades, he felt at home. And when he had seen Marrow and Illskins at work, he had contacted them. Several supplies they had, he could use in various projects. Besides, if we here to make the next steps of his journey, someone like [member="Dissero"] on his side might be... Invaluable... Even if not, there were business opportunities that abounded with the Alchemy Shop that he couldn't run through AEI.

Waiting, he scribbled notes on a datapad as he read from an ancient tome, nodding. Candles, supplies, shelves and more scattered and cluttered the humble space , and hallways vanished into a sparse bedroom and kitchen where odd herbs and... other things... hung drying or being treated. A fire blazed merrily in the hearth as the white robed man sat, piercing eyes focused utterly on his work, a battered and gleaming silver mask next to his scarred hands, an odd compass like device sat on the table, a product of his first forays into Dathomiri talismans.

Hopefully [member="Dissero"] wouldn't have any struggles finding the remote shop. He doubted he would anyway.

 

[Dissero]

Dathomir. He remembered the forested planet well from the scant few visits made during his childhood at the heel of [member="Quietus"] or his first master, Silencia. Long had it been since he laid blue eyes upon the painted faces of the Witch Elders as they took ceremony of gifting their beloved Purification Basin to that very same Master. The Babylon Candles, too, a product of their wiccan powers - only three whole wicks remained.

Dissero breathed in, letting the air of long-past wars and galactic rivalries fill his lungs, saturated by the arcane. It reminded him faintly of the heady aroma of his forges as they cooled after hours spent enduring the heat of their bellies over one project or another; of the smell of the market district in Irontown on Onderon where the jungle tribes sold their wares - terentatek horn or maalraas bone to add to the Shop at cost. He wondered faintly if the local language would come to him again as easily as it had in his younger years and idly passed his tongue over sharpened fangs as he recalled the lilting words of Pacean taught him so long ago.

The Witches were a valuable ally to hold for many reasons, especially when they felt indebted to you, but the most poignant reason he felt being that of honoring prior claim by an outsider. Smirking to himself with his hands in the pockets of his travel garb, Dissero passed his thumb over the ring on his left hand - one of many pieces he never left home without - and stepped through this curious structure settled amidst the jungle trees.

He found Ostanes settled in a chair before a fireplace, his immediate thought being that he'd very much like to be sitting just like that... only back home. The rap of leather-soled shoes over polished stone floor announced his arrival.

"Ostanes is it?" said the once Master of Vaults of the long-fallen Sith Empire, "A pleasure to put a face to the name often-enough mentioned by our mutual friend."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

It was a moment before he replied, locking the datapad and standing, eyeing the Archivist for a moment before nodding. His name was mentioned, was it? For a moment, a sibilant whisper slid in his mind, inordinate fear in Ostanes' eyes that the one he had invited here would hear it. But the fear was gone in a flash, replaced by a calm, cool manner that spoke of a carefully cultivated measure and meter. Fingers traced across the mask on the table for a moment, gathering thoughts, the hand encased in a grip of enlightenment developed by Rave. Part apology, part contractual obligation from an auction, it was debatable if the young Artisan really needed it at all. But it was kept on him at all times, as nothing else but a fond memory and affectation of the woman who had plucked him from anonymity and set him to greatness.

Finally, he cleared his throat, a pleasant smile flickering across his lips as he gestured to a sturdy yet spindly looking armchair near the desk, next to a stack of books oddly enough detailing the various properties of rare and exotic crystals. Some were penned by himself, and others by little known or famous names in their shared field. It was becoming something of his specialty, crystallurgy. There was much potential in these things, half the work was already done just in their natural growth and Force signature. The rest was the merest hint of suggestion and nudging. A push here or there, really. Some of the things possible were quite alarming, particularly when one considered the Seers Throne in the corner, mostly hidden under various pelts, but faintly radiating a certain echo in the Force.

"Ahhh, Dissero... I wondered if you would take my offer.. I have heard about you from the same channels, and it is an honor to meet the mind behind the stories. Excuse the accommodations, typically I have better... But there are times when one needs to withdraw from the larger galactic scene. Sit, please... Would you take anything to drink?"

Perfect politeness, a rich tone to the voice, Ostanes was the consummate host, but a tightness remained in his eyes and a slight tenseness at his shoulders and neck indicated something was not entirely right. Inwardly, the longer he were around Dissero, the louder the whisper got, more insistent. Luckily, he had months of practice taming it, and eventually, despite the loss it dealt to his awareness, he muted the voice to a mere buzzing bite-me in his consciousness, and all seemed well. He would some day have to reckon with his crossroad bargain, but hopefully not this day and hour.

 

[Dissero]

A hand lifted to casually dismiss the offer, "I'll stand, and nothing for me, thank you."

He could not deny the curiosity pulling his gaze here and there. Dissero was nothing if not a dedicated scholar and Archivist first and foremost beyond his skills as a warrior and bladesmen in his youth. The curios of this man's quarters - the throne of which he recognized from the invention challenge not so very long ago - would have been enough to keep his attention for weeks, most likely, but that wasn't why he was here.

Blue eyes returned to the willowy Alchemist before him, scrutinizing the man's frame and what visible telltale signs of creation were there. It was easy for a trained Alchemist to sniff out another of their kind; alchemy left a mark on any who partook, dark or light notwithstanding, and while this one's seemed to be of a younger variety, Dissero's own presence would be hard to miss. The corruption that had plagued Rave for the larger portion of her former life was prevalent on his being, though the scars and marks left behind were well covered.

"I understand you held an Apprenticeship with Rave for some time," a studying gaze, a disembodied whisper somewhere in the ether, "it would be my pleasure to work with any of her former students and help where I can, if that is what you're after, though admittedly her expertise lay somewhere beyond my own. Especially where her organic creature-creations are concerned."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

The touch was subtle, gentle, but he felt the gaze as more than a look and did not hide. The decision was made in an instant, really, and may have been ill advised and dangerous, but if anyone would understand... He might... The other was revealed, the dark presence the Codex had helped him summon and bend to his will, bound to his body via the ritualistic scars done in an alchemical fire in the sands of Tattooine.. The loss of life to empower the ritual was intense, and as his mental bindings fell, the echoed screams would roil out. Darkness immeasurable, as sure as Rave at her worse, but constrained. The beast had never been given physical form, and was caged in a hjarna stone staff in a corner of the room behind his desk, which faintly pulsed.

Knowledge. It was all he had wanted when he had devised the ritual he had enacted out in the desert. In return, he had given the spirit of some incalculably powerful being from the beyond a window into this plane. Through his eyes, ears, mouth and fingers would it experience life and death, which it seemed delighted with. And when the day came that this mortal coil passed, Ostanes body would be the final catalyst to set it free and loose into the Galaxy, to wreak whatever havoc it desired. In return, Ostanes had been shown things. Glimpses of knowledge even Rave might hesitate to employ. But the longer the two rode in the same consciousness, the more natural the partnership became, and the preternatural and intuitive leaps of insane logic to understand things become more second-nature. Combined with his inherent intellect, it was certainly dangerous.

"My expertise has recently diverged from hers as well, into fields more centered around crystallurgy. I did work with and under her for a number of years, before she retreated from the Galaxy and left my mind broken. After that, I had brief associations with Valik, Darth Shadow, and others... I would welcome the chance to work and learn from you, by reputation alone, but that is only part of the reason I asked you here. Beyond the sample of blood for the bag being needed, I have a proposition for you... A joint venture, if you will.. I had hoped Rave might join us, but she seems to have gone beyond again... How would you feel about the creation of a Guild for our kind?"

 

[Dissero]

The reconcilliation of what inhabited Ostanes body brought a visible wrinkle to Dissero's brow. Thick brows set over a hardened gaze as he stepped forward to further close the distance between them, "You're the winner of the Taurannik translations," a Codex he himself had studied closely after inheriting the full translations with the rest of Rave's notes and archive collection. The familiarity it bred with the otherwise complete stranger was a strange one. A kinship of sorts.

Dissero offered him a grim smile, looking askance at the glowing staff in the corner, "I see you wasted no time in dallying with the contents. I hope the risk was worth the reward..."

He walked off towards a bookshelf where he paused to peruse the contents, idly reading binding titles, "Working with crystals is a passion I've pursued for a large portion of my life starting with the lost art of Holocron crafting. There are so few in this galaxy who are truly skilled in the art... I blame that on a lack of respect for knowledge. In my experience with attempting to rear well-rounded Alchemists their attention wanes substantially when the lessons stop including pointy-ended sticks."

"And yet you want to open a Guild House? To what end?"

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Shaking his head, the younger Alchemist brushed errant thoughts from his mind as the Archivist spoke, and eyed the staff in the corner. A solid gaze of steel and the light in the staff dimmed. For the moment, his was the mind in control of the symbiotic existence and partnership. Though certain flags were raised as he wondered if the ease of control wasn't possibly a faint by the other in his mind to lull him into ease. In the end, foolhardy or not, the deed was well and done. He could not wish it away, nor was he entirely sure at this point he wanted to, or would be able to remove the voice by any means. Clearing his throat, he turned and grabbed a glass of water, taking a long swallow and putting back the rough hewn stone cup before responding.

"A Guild House? You touched on the reason right there at the end... Most want to learn to make pointy sticks, and so they rush the basics in a quest for surface ability and flash, with no thought to control or application. They dabble in making trinkets, and inevitably they reach out into deeper water, feeling secure, and they drown in their own ignorance. Unable to face the depths, they awaken forces and things beyond their ability and die, or become or create abominations. Look no further than myself to see the evidence."

Another sip of water, keeping the cup in his hands this time.

"The goal, of course, would be to offer formal education. Even if they stop at playthings and sharp pointy objects, at least the opportunity for a further formal education will exist. Those of us who know better can guide the minds who have potential past certain pitfalls, and those who show no interest in going further will be taught proper caution and care. And if they push the boundaries, and stray into errors like Rave and I myself have.... We will know them, and be able to respond.

Our kind is floundering, the scholarly type, without proper sanctuary. So much is fought over what dogma you follow... Light, Dark... Jedi, Sith... Labels that describe the same fanatical disease with different words. I would rather us form a place to keep all knowledge secured, regulated after a loose fashion, and accessible to those with the desire and ability. So that maybe, for those few who desire more than a sword, there are Guides and resources."

A final drink, the cup turned in his hands now empty and he nodded.

"Besides... I have rather a lot of backing. Ostensibly on paper, this will be a feed farm to recognize talent for Akure. Those who want would of course be allowed jobs and research therein.. But..Eventually I would like to take up Akures branches of storing and studying and keeping safe Artifacts and the like. Partnering through your shops to eventually attain independence and autonomy, and further recruitment. To become realized and relied upon as much as the Circle of Healers or the Bounty Hunter Guild or even the Jedi Order or Sith Empire were to their prospective trades and purposes. But, perhaps I think, not as large or famous, in our own way. Alchemy and the like should never be too wide-spread, I don't believe... But where such Arts find root, we should see to it that they grow strong and true, no?"

 

[Dissero]

Part of the man felt a cold bitterness to the idea that tied very closely to his own personal seclusion from the galaxy. A Guildhouse of Alchemists? Their skills and craft wasn't meant to be mass-produced. Theirs was of secretive accord. Theirs was the route less traveled for reasons. So much of the knowledge they kept wasn't widespread because only a very select few in this galaxy had the talent, the power, and the wherewithal to do it, to take it to the level he'd attained. It wasn't a skill just anyone could learn...

...but the part of the man that idolized an old Whiphid rather loved the idea. What had the Blackguard Auction been for if not this very line of thinking? The proliferation of secrets closely guarded. The saturation of galactic powers. The fuel to the fire of chaos.

Dissero was torn. Following this venture meant giving up his own privacy, giving up time with [member="Verie Lacroix"] and what would soon be a family, his family. It meant forgoing his own pursuits to boost the stature of others that held no significance or relevance to him. His own students be damned - [member="Soliael Devin Talith"], [member="Micah Talith"], [member="Cerita Sarova"] had always garnered his favor due to the ties and bonds they held to him. Could he be made to give enough of a damn to do the same for unfamiliar others? Rudrig seemed so long ago, back when his only allegiance had been to The Sith Empire. How easily that empire had fallen...

and yet the knowledge remained.

A deep set wrinkle formed on his brown, blue eyes setting like cold steel. He lifted a hand to itch at his beard before running his fingers through the rough in a pensive motion.

"You'll need resources for something like this. More than just the backing of Akure. I could supply the necessary tools and ingredients through my shops and what knowledge I hold from various other sources."

[member="Rave Merrill"]'s collection of notes, information and prototypes inherited after her first death; piecemeal of [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s archives left over after the collapse of the Fringe; not to mention his connections within the Order of the Selab. All of these things and more coupled with the Akure collective could make for a formidable base of operations.

[member="Ostanes"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Here a flicker lit across the shi'idos face, a smile that wasn't quite his, a hue to his eyes that was almost yellow when the light caught across them. Then he nodded, fingers tapping across his chin as he thought for a moment on what Dissero had said, and what it meant. Talking of resources, of abilities and such... The decision was half made for the one many only whispered of. Hope had been towards this end, and Ostanes had approached him first in that regard. Someone who did such as [member="Dissero"] did in the Blackguard Auction, and other things? They secretly wanted the chaos and tumult, and further by Dissero's character, the man prized knowledge. Now was time to assuage his fears a bit.

"Yes. Your abilities and resources to help with this are part why I approached specifically you first. They will be invaluable, if not near required. Particularly because you have a thirst for knowledge not many others have. Though let me be frank, this will not be a soup kitchen where everyone gets doled out the same amount for the same gift. The very basics will be handed out freely... But only that, and nothing more or less. The more... Esoteric... Yes, esoteric bits of knowledge, will be closely guarded, and the deeper secrets vetted before we teach or allow someone access. "

The smile grew thin, almost cold, but not cruel. It was business in his mind, and nothing else. After taking over Akure from the very bottom, he was quite good at business.

"To gain, something of equal value must be lost... Nothing will be truly free. We will teach them to bend reality and the Universe to their will. And by that, we will collect a giant hoard of their knowledge, and grow ever more capable. The broader the base, the higher the peak of the pyramid that rises.."

[member="Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

Were it not for the smell of old books and the looming aura of myriad Force signatures originating from the various knickknacks around the chamber Dissero may have been off-put by the gleam in the man's eyes. But this was an Alchemist's cove and a sanctuary for beings like him. It was nothing short of respect and trust that drove a man to include another to such a personal place. The meaning behind the invitation was as powerful as the spells they used to create ... and to destroy.

The sentiment wasn't missed.

He stopped at a small stand where a mask he instantly recognized as the one sold for five million credits at the Blackguard Auction. A faint smile touched his face within the scruff of his beard as his mind brought forth memories of the mask's own creator: Darth Moridin. Seemed so long ago that he'd pieced together the old Dreadlord's holocron, longer still since he served as the man's apprentice. Moridin's knowledge of alchemy was unique - he had been crafting without ever knowing the true rules and laws of such things. His corruption and undoing was a good example of why one shouldn't forgoe those laws but his masterpiece artifacts were a good example of what one could achieve when you did.

Dissero had dabbled in that train of thought as well and he would never be rid of the damage left behind for doing so.

He still was not sure if he truly regretted those choices or not, but one choice he did not regret at all was selling that mask. It's what had paid for his and Verie's new home.

"Rave was always the enterprising one when it came to things like this. Now that she is gone I suppose you are electing to fill her shoes. Large shoes to fill, figuratively speaking, but you might just be the one to do it. How else can I help?"

[member="Ostanes"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"I hated her... For years, I dreamed of killing her. Then someone took my dream from me, and I realized she had forged me into what I was as surely as any apothecary made the poultice on a sick villager who recovers. And so I looked at the why and how... And I found ambition, and through it, power. I have made pacts and bargains that will send me to dark places, and come back with darker knowledge. I will need..."

Sighing, he rubbed at his temples for a moment as he stopped speaking, and gazed to the Archivist. For a moment, their was doubt. There was fatigue. He appeared a weary young man who had jumped feet first into a challenge meant for the grizzled veteran and now had no choice but to shoulder onward or give up. Though his face and eyes showed defeat, a stiffening of the spine showed there was steel in him yet. Whether from his own nature, or Obeah unwilling to relinquish his recent host, he stood yet.

"I will need a compass... A partner and mentor... Naked ambition I have, and knowledge is far from deficient... But wisdom, wisdom I need and that you can provide. Materials won't hurt either. A beginner's kit with harmless instruction, and we track those who acquire it and other tailored products to recruit. Games within games, yes?"

[member="Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

"I'm not keen on games," Dissero replied, tone level, "or what that implies. Alchemy is not a game. You of all people should know that," and therein was the first instance where wisdom came in to play. He turned from the podium holding Moridin's mask, arms folded across broad chest, "and as long as you can come to terms with that fact then there is something to build here. The moment you lose sight of it is the moment I pull the plug."

"Do we have an understanding?"

[member="Ostanes"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

A thin eyebrow arched in response, but he took a moment. The elders' words was worth considering... What Dissero said, the meaning behind even the words, was vital. He had asked the man here... Asked him to be his compass, to keep him from the edges of what was plausible as he delved into the arts Obeah had promised to unlock for him. The eyebrow curled down and his expression became neutral.

"Fine, your price will be paid. No games. But we both agree we can not recruit just anyone into the deeper circles of this, so something will need to be done..."

[member="Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

"No, that's true, not everyone should," a deep breath filled his lungs as he took a moment to think, "the natural course of things will thin out the herd, so to speak. Survival of the fittest in a very base form. Not everyone will be capable of rising through the levels, not everyone will be capable of Mastery. That alone will be sufficient and those that want to play the system can be dealt with accordingly. The truly talented and ambitious will make themselves known. They always do."

A weighted gaze fell square upon the other, taking him in for all his abject worth. Rave didn't waste her time on nobodies and so her attention to him alone spoke volumes of his potential.

"A starter kit, hm? The idea has merit, possibilities - therein we hit a snag. The study of Alchemy is broad, endless really, a beginner's ability to grasp it isn't. Its chapters would need to be ... limited."

[member="Ostanes"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"Indeed... The best idea I can give is that we make it less broad, and more how to teach the bare bones. For metallurigcal alchemical processes, the kit could teach one something so simple as to make a blade that is resistant to lightsabers and always sharp. Enough to show them the basic processes of ritual and alteration. The other powers I am most familiar with I am hesitant to disseminate at large... The preservation of abilities of various creatures via Alchemy after death was pioneered by Rave, and disseminating it could have disastrous consequences... So biological alchemy would need something similar..."

Here he trailed off, eyeing the staff and cocking his head to the side. The direction of his gaze was unmistakable, and the artifact seemed to pulse dimly and hum. After a few moments of seemingly silent internal debate, he sighed and reached for the cup, pulling it to his hand with the Force. A stoneware pitcher came next, and he filled the cup, setting the pitcher down and taking a long sip and considering before he spoke.

"The best advice, after consult, would be perhaps the base ideas on attribute enhancement in a specific specimen. For instance, honing the Vornskrs' hunting sense in the Force, or such. Both the blade ideas, and this one, would still require independent study and research. So they would have to show dedication to the cause, as it were. But it will bring the more esoteric parts of the Craft to light... Thoughts?"

[member="Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

Dissero gave a nod, his eyes searching the higher bookshelves, "Basic metallurgy and organic attribute enhancement, that sounds like a good start. You'll have to handle the chapters on the later of course as I'm no savant at those particular skills. A solid explanation of the foundations of Alchemy, rules and laws of its use can fill the first several chapters while the following can guide students through two simple projects to craft on their own with a small assortment of materials provided by the kit," another nod, "simple, clean, educational. I like it. I'll put together a list of materials needed,"

He looked back to [member="Ostanes"] distractedly, "and I'll be needing that vial of blood."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"A resistant and or sharp blade... And something harmless for a base animal, like a womp-rat that will end with enhanced senses or such... Enough to peak their interest, and refer them to the Guild... Should work..."

Turning, the alchemist glanced at Dissero and produced a vial of blood that was, oddly enough, contained in a crystalline vial etched with Sith Runes that appeared to be.... Warding markers... The vial itself had a Force Signature, though most would struggle to see if it were the vial or its contents. The precaution was excessive to some, but to the white robed man it was needed. Everything in him, every fiber of his being, was under the control of Obeah... Who knew how the malignant being might exude influence over others. Or if it could. But Ostanes would take no chances of any sort with such a beast.

"Careful with that... I assume the spirits hold is only ethereal... But, one cannot know... Don't touch the blood directly... Just in case... Also... I have heard through certain circles.... That you have quite a library.... I'd like to arrange a visit, supervised if you wish... Particularly things I have only heard rumors of... Certain candles... Your various holocrons and tomes... I am close to something, and if I can gain more of what Rave was up to before her True Death, it may shake the foundations of the Art itself..."

[member="Dissero"]