Public Witch Trials

[Wight Star]

LOCATION: Dathomir

---

The Venator Class Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace above Dathomir. There it was poised as vessel to bring The King to the Kingdom of Witches in this galaxy. Here the Mothers of Peridea had long ago come and establsihed their covens, with the Nightbrothers forming their own clans. The world was potent with the Magicks, which Wight felt as he sat with one leg slung over his arm rest. Aboard the ship was a Dead Man's Crew of those who had once in life been Nightsisters and Nightbrothers. They walking the decks in slow gates, their flesh rotten, and doing everything that their Captain, The Witchking did command. Looking down on the swirling vermillion world from the view screen, The Son of Peridea yawned, his white locks which folded over on one side swaying a little. Standing up he in his leather trenchcoat of shadow with its markings of magenta that matched his eyes came close to the screen as he held his hands and arms behind his back,

Scans uncovered some ruins in the North, the concentration of the Covens was at the Falls, and in the South, where the forests were abundant and Mount Arcanis dominated the hotizon. The Ruins were of interest to this Wight who with his crew of reanimated corpses would flood. He commanding the Destroyer to enter atmosphere with a mere thought, the Undead doing his bidding and piloting the great vessel into the vermillion world. There piercing through the cloud cover his ship's rib cage patterns on the haul below would be seen, a message to any who beheld the Great Star Destroyer his intent. For The Son of Peridea had come to Dathomir not merely to grave rob, but rather to assert his mantle of Witchking, the first in a millenia or so the prophecy foretold on Peridea. A dropship of bone shape and white came out of the hangar and did descend on the ruins, there tombs and structure most ancient did await, the shuttle coming to the threshold of these seemingly empty houses of the Dathomiri. The ramp fell and smoke poured out as incense, rushing out in a dozen was the Corpses with their glowing green eyes, and garments of scarlet, their faces of flesh pale and flaking, the moved as if one, a heart beat between them all when stepping off the vessel was The Wight, who in his trenchcoat of black leather began to walk among the tombs and structures, his eyes aflame with the pinkish gene that had passed down to him from his Nightsister Mother. He had hoped she could see this day, see him ascent to the throne of all Dathomiri, and yet in her grief she was bound to another galaxy. And so he would have to carry only his memory of her to this place, her very home world itself.

He had a double right to be here, first as Witchking and second as Son of the Night. He had rejected his Sith Bloodline, killed it even. He had no intrerested in hocus pocus of the Force, he was bound to the Magicks, and they had given him strength to even slay a great Sith Lord. What Dathomir had needed was vision, the covens divided and lost in their tribal ways, they needed to remember the Ancients, Ther Perideans who had created a Witchkingdom and made their realm a terror to the Jedi. Yes, it was time for the Dark Magick, not the Dark Side to have supremacy, to stretch forth and remind the galaxy the power of Witchcraft!

 

[Uma Nari]

Uma receieved a beacon on his star ship, flooding her screen was images of Star Destroyer orbiting in atmopshere of Dathomir. The shape of it was as if one had designed it to be a rib cage of some beast. The alert had come to her from some of few on Dath who considered her, a Light Witch an ally. Setting coordinates, she made the jump to hyperspace, and was soaring on the stars that flew past in multitude of great white lines. Looking over the Star Destroyer, it was an old imperial class ship, so old in fact, that she was puzzled how it was even operational. There was a great jolt as she came out of light speed, and the great cinnabar colored planet, her home, which she with great haste drew her starship to and came into the atmsphere, she saw the behemoth destroyer poised far in the North, which was curious because that was the location of the Tombs of Dathomir.

As she began to on her course draw closer and closer to the Bone White Destroyer Class Ship, she suddenly felt her smaller craft begin to shake, and then she saw it, great bolts flying towards her and exploding in puff of charcoal and black. Turbolasers had locked on to her, she began to use evasive manuvers, but the peppering of many shots made walls that were hard to navigate around of great explosions, and one hit her wing and made her begin to spiral, the alarm sounding inside her cockpit as she was going down, smoking rising from her engine as she found herself falling straight for the Necropolis, she piloting as best she could dived and went straight through a structure of ancient stone, breaking it apart and then colliding over a hill before more of those structures and towers. Her vessel was now completely derelict, and taking her lightsaber hilt, igniting the hgot white fire, she cut herself out cockpit, breaking the glass as she leapt out in her blue and black robes, landing on soil and beginning to sprint as the starfighter disappeared into a great ball of flame with a bang.

She was now running among the tombs, searching, sensing, when she found foot prints, fresh ones among the soil and heading into one of tombs. Her saber was humming and its white matching her ivory hair, her eyes scanning for any threats, when she saw something dash behind one of the buildings of stone, making for it she leapt from behind and found nothing, when suddenly something grabbed her from behind and tossed her. Using the Force as her ally, she landed on her boots and turned to spin her blade in a defensive flurry, when she saw one of the Undead that often were summoned by the dark arts, an abomination that was rushing at her with blood curdling shriek, and then she heard motion to her flank, as two more running with their claws and eyes aglow with that polluted peridot light. She closing her eyes began to breath and prepare, she would not let fear of injury or the terrors that they beings were disturb the peace that resided within...

 

[Wight Star]

The Three Corpses had found the Living One and were besetting upon them. Wight was walking with a rather leisure step, his coat swaying as he heard his minions engage the New Arrival. The crash had made a great loud noise that drew many of his crew's interest, many of them growling and cirlcing the pyre from where the star ship had been. Wight saw her, standing against the three, the loud hum of the lightsaber made the Witchking cross his arms in amusement, the way this Lady carried herself as one of those Do Gooders of Coruscant, The Light Bearers who through generation after generation were called The Jedi. It was amusing to watch the confidence of these "Keepers of the Peace," their moral superiority was a delightful delusion that gave them strength. The Son of Peridea held his hand up as more of the Crew wanted to charge in.

The way with Wannabe Jedi moved was not natural, she clearly had some familiarity with the terrain, and her features were unmistakably Dathomirian. Curious, a Sister who chose the traditions of the paladins? How amusing indeed. There was a sound near one of the structures, cloud of black which indicated an astral movement of the Sisters. It seemed that the Witches at last had come, and he would make them submit to his authority as King. Wight did not engage, he would let them come to him. Kings did not go to their subjects, and so he stood there occupied in thought. If this Sister was determined to be loyal to the Force, and the Jedi Way, she would burn first...

 

[Uma Nari]

Opening her eyes The Bokken Jedi spun her white hot blade around, meeting the skull of one of Zombies, and tearing it apart, as she then jabbed back, spearing another in temple. The third leap on her, and she spun the blade in semi circle to snap one of its arms clean off, and she then began to slash it across the chest, making it fall on its back. Standing triumphant, her eyes of marvelous blue glowing, and she then saw one standing on a hill above her. He was in a black coat, and eyes as pink fire. She holding her saber blade to her side began to walk up towards him and said,
"You violate the sanctity of this world with your vessel, and now pollute these tombs with your necromancy."

She began to flip the durasteel saber hilt in her hand, making the ivory blade in its brilliant fire spin around in a circle as she stood now in the presence of this Man who carried himself with an air of arrogance, and conceited malice.
"Why have you come? How is it that you possess control of the Magicks as a male?"
This observation was not lost on her, the Ichor was the sole possession of the Nightsisters and covens, not even Zabrak Nightbrothers could tap into the Magic, and yet it was clear that these Undead did the bidding of this Man who had invaded Dathomir's airspace, and now was raiding tombs. She had to give him an opportunity to explain, and for a possible cessation of hostilities, that was the Jedi Way. Though the look painted on contours of his face belied that he would cease this siege. She had to be careful, a Star Destroyer class ship could do great damage. That was his ace card, his intimidating factor, the sword to the scepter of any invasion.

 

[Darth Nexion]

Nexion had heard words around the galaxy the last few weeks. They weren't widespread, but they were in darker corners and circles where he, and his old (now deceased) friend Hemorpheus, would get mixed up in. Words that related to a young man with white hair and pink eyes, followed by undead. The latter half piqued his interest, but it was the youth's description that got his attention.

It was a description matching that of Hemorpheus' killer, at least from what he could make out. So, here he was in a ship following the trail of this young man to a planet that got a chuckle out of him. As the planet of Dathomir came into view, Nexion couldn't help but recall Hemorpheus'... lover? Ex? He wasn't sure what they were at the time of his death, but Nexion knew they were close at one point at least.

Eventually, he touched down on the planet's surface where he immediately felt the planet's darkness. Though, after being on a planet like Malachor V or Korriban, this was nothing. He walked along a path that led to a temple where he felt two distinct presences. "Walked" may not be the most suitable description, though. He was still working out a few issues on his re-animated body and he occasionally locked up and was forced to hobble, but that subsided rather quickly once he got moving.

Eventuallhy, he reached a temple where he saw the sight of undead, a white blade held by one, and another standing from where the undead were coming from. He leaned back against a tree, waiting for things to unfold a bit before he intervened. He was still a sucker for good entertainment.

Wight Star
Uma Nari

 

[Darth Moskvin]

WITCH TRIALS

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -​

Nothing goes unseen or unheard on Dathomir, whispers floating on the wings of voices from one Coven or Clan to the next; regardless of the rivalry or hatred between them. Interlopers and false believers, along with those under the spell of self-proclamations, were unwelcomed; usurpers of a culture they have no true knowledge of.

When those murmurs reached the ears of The Nardithi Nightsister Coven, they quickly turned the most dangerous individual on Dathomir, me. My hatred for others was legendary, my sadistic nature and my demented fantasies far superceded any campfire ghost story. When kids cried to parents about the Boogeyman, they spoke of me.

It didn't take long to track the invaders, my serial killer instincts honed from centuries of being undead; and with the eyes of my familiar Archie soaring through Dathomir's skylines, the duo stood no chance. I will slaughter one, feast off the other, and the monsters and creatures that call this planet home would strip their rotting corpses to the bone; just two more unwanted visitors disappearing on the Galaxy's most dangerous planet.

But it seemed they were not the only ones tainting the surface of our Mother with their wretched stink, polluting the sanctity of my home, the Nightsister's home. We earned through spilled blood, treacherous betrayers, and loss of kin through the Galaxy's attempts to put it's hand of genocide upon us to protect Dathomir from the horrifying repeats of history. I sensed him, the one that so willingly gives up his name, stalking about.

"I never imagined you to be into voyeurism, Darth Nexion," I said creeping up silently behind him like Death itself, "What interest does this Lord of the Sith have on Dathomir? If you wanted a tour, you never kept shy about annoying me with correspondences."

I peered over him, smiling at the two below. "Did someone lose his girlfriend? Come now Romeo, I'm sure you could conjure up a replacement from beyond the grave," I mocked as I gave him a courtesy bow. I hate most Sith as I hate the Jedi, but Darth Nexion was tolerable.

Darth Nexion / Wight Star / Uma Nari

 

[Wight Star]

The Witchking watched as three of his Faithful were dispatched with precision that made him realize this Jedi was well trained in their arts. Though she was clawed slightly by one, which she seemed to be unscathed from. Then brazenly she came to him on this humble hill and made assertions about the sanctity of this world, which made him almost chuckle, almost. Then she made her inquires, one was an opportunity to explain his Right to rule Dathomir, and so he acquiesced.
"It is my birth right to come, I am the Witchking of Peridea. All Sisters of Night owe me fealty, For it was Peridea that the Ancient Mothers did come forth, and settled this world. My command of the Magicks is a testament to the Prophecy, that once ever millennia, a male is endowed with the Ichor, and give the crown to rule all of the Dathomiri."

His burned with a ceaseless flame, examining this Jedi who clearly was one of his subjects.
"I see that your devotion is to the Jedi, a Sister who uses the Light Magick, is most unique. Though I am afraid that it presents me with the invitable conclusion in which I must consider you as one of them, and not one whom shall serve me as Majesty. If it is your intent to remain counted with the Jedi, then I must bid you leave this planet on pain of death.."
He form of address he had learned form his Mother, who was regal, First Daughter of the Night, who's own mother was a Night Mother. His pedigree was only tainted by that of His Father, a Sith Lord he had recently slain put on ice, literally. A man who would willfully kill his own Father was not to be trifled with...

 

[Uma Nari]

Uma listened to his answers, they were full of absolutism, that he was some King that had come to claim dominion over all the Dathomiri. To this she rolled her blue eyes, especially when he claimed that her devotion to the Jedi was antithetical to being a Night Sister.
"Clearly you are unaware of the rich history of the Jedi on Dathomir. The Paxeum was founded as enclave of Jedi here by Master Streen and Jedi Knight Kirana Ti. By the Praxeum Tradition I have every right to be here as any coven. You are gravely mistaken to pass judgement so wantonly.. a sign of arrogance and proof that you would make a poor ruler. A good leader does not make assumptions, rather they show wisdom by reticence and listening to those who have knowledge. You said yourself this is not your world, and so before you claim a throne, perhaps you should get aqauinted with the clans and discover just who it is that populates this planet, and that you think will be your subjects."

She paused, her saber still humming, her heart beating. She could see the effect of her words, a chiding as it were of this self asserted King. While he did not display any disruption or angst on his face, she could feel his emotions, they were as waves, and it was clear that while her chastising tone was familiar to him, he did not appreciate her challenge to his legitimacy. Uma did not care, she was Praxeum, and she had to try to keep the pax, the peace on Dathomir. The Covens were divided by their separate traditions, Spider Clan, Misty Falls Clan, Nardithel, Necromus, and many others. This titular Witchking was daft that he thought they would willingly bow to him. Whatever his claims from the lost world of Peridea, he had not proven himself, sure he had contingent of undead, but even Sith Necromancers did, and so that meant nothing. What mattered to this Bokken Jedi was to protect the world of his birth from malevolent forces.

It was as she spoke to this Usurper that she felt a very dark presence descend upon Dathomir. At once she felt it with her heart that was bathed in the Light of Ashla, a shadow approaching. How could this be happening? In the same day a would be pretender to a throne she had never heard of and some looming Dread was here as well. Was she to be alone in defending Dath against all the darkness the galaxy could contrive to dwell here? She was beginning to think she needed to send distress call to Coruscant, and summon Jedi to lend her aid. For Uma was merely a self trained Jedi, she was not a Master of the Force.

TAG: Mentioned @Darth Moskin

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Witch Way To Your Weirding Ways?
Immediate Goals -
1: Speak to Pom Stych Tivé
1.1: What the kark is this...?

BLUFOR - Allies Unknown

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Wight Star || Uma Nari || Darth Nexion || Darth Moskvin || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

Trayze Tesar hated arriving into the middle of things. Deciding to finally live up to the heat-of-the-moment promise to the Queen-Matriarch, and had arrived to trek to find either her, or someone who would be willing to teach a male in the matters of the Nether, and where the soul went beyond.

Yet as the shuttle landed, Trayze found far more landed spacecraft than what was expected for a "sacred retreat" among the Dark Siders, and the Force told him that conflict was ahead. A quartet, two Sith, a Dathomiri, and an honest-to-Bogan Jedi.

Not another setup to a bad joke... The Kiffar groaned in his mind's eye, as he bore witness to the aftermath of a scuffle between the dark-sider and a Jedi who... Light Magick? This was the first he's heard of it, and he witnessed more standing by a tree opposite of another familiar figure.

Darth Nexion . And someone who was no doubt a Night-Sister. He bowed slightly to her, acknowledging her presence, and hoping to display the fact he was no threat - or at least, less of a threat than this albinic lunatic babbling on about being the "Witch-King of Dathomir".

The best way to avoid a trap is to spring it, Trayze resigned to himself, and if this woman was to use the similar powers of Magick without cleaving his soul to the Force That Devours, then Trayze could not afford to let slip. The Force danced through his body like weaving strands, flickering the evanescent flame of the "Witch-King" far too much, angling it in a way where it would result in being a blinding flash, before a myriad of those self-same strands pushed and pulled at the limbs. Whether they stood or fell, what they saw after the blinding light was the same - a Kiffar, wielding two slugthrower pistols, pointed at both parties.

"Do not forget who gave the world its protection, "Yer Majesty"." Trayze announced, addressing the would be claimant first. "For you are under the protection of Darth Carnifex, and the Empire." Trayze hated the Butcher King as much as any sane person in the Galaxy, but for now, he was grateful that the oversized bastard held some sway here. "As fer the Jedi?" Trayze turned to face the light-sider, his face torn between stoic duty and pity. "She will be placed under our jurisdiction." he would then resume his address of the "Witch-King" "A good king knows how ta' make allies, especially..." with one final nod, he acknowledged the Dewback - or rather, the Dathomiri Sith - in the room. "Among those he claims to have right to rule over."

 

[Brooke Waters]

A wonderful thing about being her was the absolute freedom that Brooke Waters had to carry on her tasks. Very rarely was she ever requested to stand in any sort of task by her Clan Mother, but it wasn’t unheard of. It just so happened that she was more useful traveling from the various worlds her Clan had created settlements and started to plant the Blue Coral. Was it for something greater? Maybe. Brooke had this itch in her brain that told her to expand the Blue Corals. Surely, it had nothing deeper to it. Nothing in the waters of Dathomir, the history of this world, and the Force could be existing for any other purposes aside from being used by Witches.

She had taken her new craft, well, new … partner, really, that she had rescued with Cato Fett , the Nautilos to the galaxy’s witch mecca, and landed the vessel under the surface of the sea that was in firm control by the Blue Corals.

“Please just remain here.” Brooke said, to the ship’s system, a mix of droid, and kyber.

The ship gave her a nudge in the Force, as it were, that she knew it’d remain until called for, or if it needed to protect itself.

But that was days ago. She knew the ship was just a ship, but there was something special about flying it. And the Force called her back to Dathomir for very specific reasons. To help other healers of her Clan with new spells she had found on her travels, to bring back medicines for those that were sick, and offer lessons to other wayfinders. However, the Clan Elders wanted Brooke’s worldly expertise on something they could feel rising, a calling of others to the world.

What she hadn’t expected was that her currents were bringing her to this little gathering late. Spear of bone and coral, with her lightsaber making the business end, in one hand, and using it as a walking stick. Seagrass and barnacles were covering the handle, giving it the feel and look of a walking stick. Her blue-and-white tunic and skirt that many in her clan wore. Hers was, of course, modified to be a bit more stylish, and had a belt with a few other items, from a datapad to a small satchel of seeing stones, and a deck of oracle cards, based off sabacc, but used for prophecy.

Standing where she was, the others of her clan had their bows drawn, but Brooke waved them away. Below was a lightsaber, and someone claiming themselves to be King. And a man, least of all. That was an interesting situation. Idly, Brooke wondered what the Mandalorians would think of that, right within their influence.

She’d have to let them know.

Standing where she was, near the edge of the treeline, not exactly hiding, but not making her presence known. Waiting to see which way the current took this conversation. Her mission from the Clan Mother was simple, observe, and report. And represent the Clan if needed.

 

[Darth Nexion]

Nexion felt the presence as it was approaching him and it was one he felt he waw becoming rather familiar with. He felt his fellow Sith looming behind him, and peering over him to the scene he himself was witness to. Upon hearing her words, Nexion couldn't help but let his smirk grow.

"Lady Death, a pleasure as always. Apologies, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. Watching others doing those sorts of activities is not my idea of a good time. You, however, with it being your first thought, I can't say the same for."

He turned around from the fight to meet the face of Moskvin herself.

"You seem to be far more... light, with your words than I recall. Has someone finally got to your heart perhaps? No, no. I am here because of that young man. His description matches someone I've been interested to meet, and now that I'm this close, he feels familiar to me."

He leaned back against the tree he was before, but continued to face his... let's say, friendly acquaintance. He felt more coming nearer to (and reaching) the temple area, but he paid them all little mind. For now, at least.

"What about yourself? What's your reasoning for coming to a place such as this? Looking for a holiday destination, because this would be in my top 10."

Darth Moskvin
Wight Star
Brooke Waters
Uma Nari
Trayze Tesar

 

[Ryn Starfall]

The Clan mother of the Howling Crags clan sat on her porch in her clan village smoking a death stick. Long ago she had left the Galaxy behind her, choosing to stay upon Dathomir, even after the ravages of war by so many groups her and her clan had managed to survive and hide through purges and so much more. She had been a prominent leader with in the dark coven of nightsisters once upon a time, hell she had even attempted to rebuild once. Yet now she had grown content the past was gone and the witches of old no longer had the heart to fight content to kneel before men.

The foul mouthed witch known as Ryn Starfall who had forsaken her own fathers last name of Bacquin clan mother of the Howling Crag had no intent on ever kneeling before a man. She saw any witch who did as one who betrayed their history and lineage. Some witch had come to her proclaiming someone claiming to be a witch king was arriving. All she did was laugh it off, no such thing existed. No man had ever or would ever rule over the nightsisters and if any did then it would be time to call forth the spiders clan to teach the maling a lesson in manners and his real place upon this world.

She mused about the thought of it as she smoked her death stick, if only the witches of the past could stand at her side right now. She wouldn't care if they were the Hawk's fellow witches she and her sisters had fought against. Reminisce on the days when Dathomir was a glorious and no man claimed to rule over it. Dathomir was and always would be a female dominated society, war would come to this so called witch king in time. Her seers had told her the mad witch, Ryn's older sister would return and then there would be a reckoning. In truth Ryn wouldn't be happy to see her sister, but if it meant a free Dathomir she would welcome the Tyrant of Destruction once more. Her seers even spoke of the armies she would bring. Through the future could always be a little blurry and skewed.

 

[Wight Star]

Raising his black glove below his chin, Wight looking at the Jedi Witch said,
"The Jedi created an enclave and that is your claim to Dathomir? Sounds like an attempt at occupation to me. The Keepers of Peace wanting a base on a dark world full of witchcraft."

His magenta eyes flickering as he turned away from her,
"If you can substantiate your claim, I will remove the death penalty. Come.. there are many that may lend credence to your tale or prove that you are a liar."

As he began to walk, he could sense the eyes of those baptized in the Magicks, his gate was as ever without haste and nonchalant. As if he found nothing pressing to attend to. Some of his Cursed Crew came about him, when he saw two figures beneath a Great Gnarled Tree. He began to make his way there, the Undead moving as hounds before him, sometimes on all fours in their rapid fashion. '

The Son of Peridea made his way towards the great tree, there he saw One like a wraith, eyes a glow with a greenness that made him wonder if they too hard a connection to the Ichor. The other was a Lady with gilded eyes, face as white as fresh powder, and headdress of finery with its red that looked like blood vessels coming to a head, it reminded him of his Father's armor, poor Hemorpheus, Lord of Life, who was not match for death. And indeed, before him was a scent of the crypt itself, these two rank with the odor of tombs. He almost wondered if it was possible, that the Man was none other than the one whispered by his Mother, for she had told him of Darth Nexion , the Lord of Death, and how he was foil to his Father and a good friend of the family.

Now before them the Witchking stood, his eyes slowly moving their focus from one to the other, they seemed to be in conversation themselves. Looking over his black shoulder with its glowing amethyst strip, he said,
"A Jedi, Two Sith, and a King.. this is getting interesting."
He sensed others were about, though he begrudged the ability and banished this Force Sense, considering it anathema. Wight was resolved to not tap into the dark side of the Force despite its many gifts, forbidding himself to touch it lest he honor The Abandoner. It was perhaps foolish, if he was to be King of Dathomir, having the power of the Sith would give him an edge, however, it would taint the purity of his purpose. This world belonged to those who wielded Witchcraft, not the Force, and if anyone was to assert dominion over it, they could not be divided between two powers, the Dark Magic alone must be absolute, or The Dathomir will just become a vassal state of the Sith. It was in his interest to keep a distance from the strength of the dark lords, lest they seek to lord over him through it.

TAG: @Darth Movskin
@Brook Waters
Trayze Tesar
Ryn Starfall
Uma Nari

 

[Darth Moskvin]

WITCH TRIALS

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -

Loyalty - American Head Charge

​

My eyes never wavered from the man below even as Darth Nexion spoke, or the brief arrival of another individual I never seen before that left abruptly; my anger was growing maliciously, that my concentration was focused on the male. "My heart has been dead for centuries, black and bleak and cold like the body that entombs the fleshy organ. And my dear Lord Nexion, resurrecting this antiquated piece of meat would provoke the female spider to consume the male after copulation. Best to let that centenarian heart remain dead.

"He is foreign to me, and he will covet the concept he remained as such.," I said, locking my golden eyes on Darth Nexion, "Oh Lord Nexion, this is my home. My sanctuary away from the living, minus my Sisters. Perhaps you wish to visit my Coven, enjoy the horrors of my lab, that only necromancers such as we would find much appreciation, but first...."

I left the remaining words drift off into obscurity, my steps carrying me down to the scene below like a phantom pirouetting through a graveyard; no longer wishing to contain my impatience further. Transfixed, as if spellbound by my own accord, I moved directly in front of this self-proclaimed Witch-King, my death-like appearance looming before him, the shadows of complete evil swallowing him whole cast from a body constructed to throw one's mind into a four-sided wall of fear for the institutionalized, whilst ignoring the others.

"You are no King. You will find no subjects here willing to swear fealty to you, but instead you will find death willing to cradle you with her frigid and biting embrace," I spat with a venomous tone not meant to intimidate, but to sow the unequivocal conviction of my words. "And you insult me, my Sisters, and Mother Dathomir with those abominations," continuing as I pointed a long, clawed finger toward the undead that stood with this preposterous King, "Whilst seeking to stir the ire of the Mandalorians who watch over this planet, who have convened peacefully with the covens and clans, only adds folly to your boisterous claim."

Darth Nexion / Trayze Tesar / Ryn Starfall / Uma Nari / Wight Star / Brooke Waters

 

[Brooke Waters]

She could sit around and watch for a bit, but there was only so long that Brooke Waters could sit to the side. She wasn’t here to take charge, no. But she was going to do what she could to voice her Clan Mother’s concerns. While the Blue Corals were historically a clan where men and women lead the clan in equal measures. However, Dathomir was historically matriarchal, and the Blue Corals followed that. Looking at the ones with the bows, she gave a signal to stand down, but not to go far. She really wished she had the forethought to cast a spell to help her blend into the environment, but she wasn’t exactly hiding.

Stepping from the tree line, she held her staff as she walked. The blonde was clearly not from the world, and had spent ample time away from the safety for the Witches that Dathomir provided. She didn’t have any non-Dathomiri weapons, no, but she did have fabrics and ropes from other worlds. Her blonde hair in a posh wavy style as it flowed down her back. As she was in the clearing, her blue eyes watched the others. Sith, witch, surrounding herself by those who held to the dark side. It was no matter.

Brooke did not travel alone, and her skills displayed vastly greater depth than one would suspect when looking at her. A women of depth, and she’d have to admit, fairly decent genetics, she was casting an aura that screamed of life, but life with depths and the dangers that lurk there.

<<And what text of Dathomir does your so-called prophecy reside in?>> She spoke in a dialect of Paecian as she surveyed those that were there.

Wight Star Uma Nari Darth Nexion Trayze Tesar Ryn Starfall Darth Moskvin

 

[Uma Nari]

The Jedi Sister listen to him explain that he was form Peridea, a planet she knew of from the Night Mothers, though it was not often spoken of. When he made his claims as King, she scoffed, she had never heard of anyone speaking of this 'Prophecy'\
"If this is true why has no one on Dathomir known of this Prophecy?"
Her words were echoed by another who had emerged, they all gathering at the Lone Tree of the Tombs, called the Tree of Last Breath.
"Indeed, our annuls do not mention a Prophecy as she mentions," she turned to Brooke Waters .
His words about the Praxeum being a mere enclave made her roll her beautiful shining blue eyes. He did not understand the heritage Jedi had left on the planet. While yes enmity did exist between Nightsisters and Jedi, that was the Dark Magick clans specifically, not the ones the held to the Light Magic as she did. To them the Jedi helped expand their understanding, and served as allies in dark times. This Man was greatly ignorant of the history of Dathomir, and spoke of a world from bed time stories.

 

[Wight Star]

he Witchking looking into the eyes of the @Darth Movskin was unmoved by her sentiments,
"I do not expect fealty will be sworn willingly.. the Daughters of Dathomir have long forgotten The Peridean Way, the ancient Witch Path. They have forgotten that the women reigned due to the absence of the King, they are regents, and the regency now ends.."

Hearing another voice challenge his authority, asking where in annuls of Dathomir is this Prophecy, he turned to Brooke Waters ,
"Dathomir? Or Dathomiri? Your planet is young.. compared to where I hail from. Peridea is the home of the Ancient Witchkingdom, and there stone is carved with the Prophecy foretelling why it was called The Witch.. kingdom, a kingdom requires a king. I come now to the Colonists, the descendants of the Ones who crossed galaxies to settle a new seat of their Magic." He gave a pause, "Though I see that your men have been reduced to the place of cattle, what have the covens done? Or were you afraid I would come? That King would return and your regency would be undone."

Wight as he gave answer felt the hostility of these females, it was natural, The Witchkings of old had to often fight for their claim and he was ready to do so. The mention of Mandalorians being protectors made him sigh,
"Proof of the weakness of the Witches is that you need powerful foreigners,The Mandalorians. to protect you. Do you honestly believe those who are not bound to the magicks will truly safeguard you? That they will not betray you? On my world there is a Clan of those devoted to a Mando's memory and train in thier arts, Wren Clan, and they have been hostile to our ways, hostile to those who have the Ichor flow through their veins. Make no mistake, a bargain with their kind is folly, but stand with me, and Dathomir will take its place as Kingdom to be reckoned with in this galaxy."

His appeal probably would fall on deaf ears, but this was the way a King conducted themselves, give an offer to bow willingly or be convinced by other methods. He hoped they would see sense, that trusting in those not bound by Dathomirian blood and the tradition of the Magicks was going to make them vulernable, indeed the Mandos probably intended to make a vassal state out of them, or use Dathomir as a base so close to their home world of Mandalor.

 

[Ryn Starfall]

Ryn stood up from her porch as the death stick burned out. She pulled the stem from her lips between her thumb and middle finger. Then flicked it into a nearby ash can with precision accuracy landing in the center can of the can. Her orange glowing eyes looked up at the setting sun in Dathomir’s red sky. The rumors had nagged at her as she had sat there, something had to be done, and she could not wait for her sister the mad witch to return. Ryn went inside her house to her bedroom and reached under the bed.

She pulled a case from under it and opened it. Inside was her old dual bladed lightsaber, a black candle, and her wrist lanvarok. She took the saber, and the sheath made for it attaching it to her waste. Then she put the Lanvarok on her wrist and the black candle in her pocket. Underneath that in the case was an old death mask made of silver, but she did not take that instead she took the silver plated lighter next to it and a ring of transformation right next to that. She put the lighter in her pocket and the ring on her left ring finger.

She then stood up and with the wave of her hand and the words in her clan tongue she spoke the words of magick. “Spirit of the wolf take me to the place I seek.” A shimmering portal of purple and white opened before her and the Mother of Wolves steps through. In an instant she was at the ruins where the proclaimed witch king stood.

Just in time to hear his speech about the witch kingdom. The ancient witch, granddaughter of the demon witch, daughter of the dark wolf and rebel sith now stood in the fray next to her sisters who stood against this false king. As she heard his words which caused her to blink at the stupidity of what she had just heard come from his mouth. “My Grandmother was from Peridea, never once did she speak of you or your prophecy you proclaim. Nor of any maling leading them, I highly suggest you go crawl back to the hole you dug yourself out of and learn respect before you ever return here again.” Ryn’s eyes burned with fire orange sulfuric flames.

“Your claims are false, also kingdom is just a basic tongue translation, it does not denote a king just a description of an empire and best approximation of the native word. Plus, there are many kingdoms in the Galaxy that are not and never have been led by males.” She could incinerate the male where he stood, she did not like his arrogance or claims on there world. He was no better then the Alliance, empires, or even mandalorians who tried to claim and tame the witches of this world. She only tolerated the Mandalorians because for the moment they had left them in relative peace and hadn’t tried to change their culture. She was still a believer though in a free and independent Dathomir serving only the sisters who lived upon it.

“You are an outsider; we have never and never will kneel to one such as yourself. You are no better than the sith or Jedi you claim we are weakened by. Just another person who wants to claim dominion over what we have built for ourselves. Go and never return, take your prophecy and claim shove it up your arse. We do not and will not serve you or any man and the sisters of the past, present, and future no matter our differences will stand with me.” Ryn didn’t draw her weapon, and her tone didn’t rise above just loud enough so the maling could hear it. “Learn respect, don’t come to a world you don’t belong and make demands on them or proclamations of titles you have no proof of and falsely claims of a prophecy that does not exist. We speak to our ancestors, we know our history and you know nothing of us. Now go or I will kill you.” Ryn wasn’t playing a game, though she was calm in tone her voice was dead serious. She was one of the few who had lived through most of the witches’ trials and tribulations and had always been a stalwart defender of Dathomir’s freedom from outsiders. She was Ryn Bacquin the mother wolves, dragon rider, the fire in the heart of Dathomir, Elder witch, and Clan mother of the Howling Crags.


Tags: Wight Star | Brooke Waters | Darth Moskvin | Trayze Tesar | Darth Nexion

 

[Wight Star]

Wight let out a laugh at Ryn Starfall words, his entire body, especially at the shoulders trembled from the amusement he derived from her threats and chastisement.
"Oh how splendid.. your insolence is exactly what I expected."
His eyes shifting to focus on her,
"Your grandmother never spoke of the Prophecy is easily explained away by that she was part the deviant covens who came to this world and seek to rule as regents forever. You have made your men little better than slaves, no doubt you pretend the prophecy is untrue to keep your power. Your words are no more proof than mine, and your threats speak volumes of your fear.. if you were a wiser soul, you would not threaten me. I have killed Life itself.. and with a wave of my hand, I will unleash such destruction on this planet that you will have no holes to hide in. To make an enemy of me is to ensure your own end."

He cackled a little more, the sound of it was as one who had lost their senses, as a person who was unhinged
"Hypocrite.. you seek to school me in respect when you have none.. you will learn to bow before due time. Though I welcome your fire, we will need it in coming Witchkingdom, provided you do not burn out in your attempts to resist the inevitable."

Looking to the others at this gathering, he said,
"Tell are you all resigned as she? To trust the Mandalorians, and spurn your King? Why make an enemy of me, when you have the means to make me your Protector. I have a vision for Dathomir.. where we will step out of the shadows and take our place in this galaxy as a true power. Too long the Magicks has been hidden here and on Peridea. We have allowed the Jedi and the Sith to take the board, it is time we step upon the stage and show that the Ancient Ways are best."

He crossed his arms as he allowed them to consider. Thusfar they consensus of these witches and masters of death was defiance. That was expected, the powerful never gave allegiance, one had to earn it. And so Wight did not take their imprudence to heart, this simply was how they were, and if he was in their position, he would do the same. They were not Jedi, well most of them, one was, and so conduct was not silver tongued, it was dirty and sharp, like a blade ready to strike and infect those who did not parry and thrust back.

 

[Darth Nexion]

As 'Lady Death' made her way down to where the young man and his adversary stood, Nexion's smirk grew wider. He pushed himself from the tree he was leaning on and hopped down to the ground, the fall (to him) feeling slowed before he landed.

He made his way towards the group of (now four), passing by the undead with a quick glance. He placed himself beside his fellow Sith, but he kept his eyes on the undead instead of any of the living. As the young man finished speaking, that was when Nexion decided to intervene himself into the conversation.

"Now, now, kid. Trust me when I say it'll take more than pretty words to convince these girls, and a show of force will mean squat to them."

With a wave of his hand, green mist left Nexion's own hands and made it's way into the undead who all suddenly halted as Nexion balled his hand into a fist.

"Also, your necromancy is a little lacking."

"Moving on, why don't we all take a second. Don't get me wrong, I love cutting other people down as much as the next Sith, but I'd much rather ask you things before the others here tear you to shreds. So, lets all start from the top. Then, when we all have our answers, then we work out who gets to kill who."