Private A Meeting of Crowns

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

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

Above the world of Pochi; Neutral Space; Aboard the Marr-Class Star Destroyer Evolution



The Shaper stood upon the Evolution's bridge, overlooking the planet of Pochi, the Whilstones glimmering faintly amidst the space-born darkness beyond the bridge's viewport. His eyes slowly slipping shut as he felt the arrival of the King of Midvinter Thurion Heavenshield before his ship finished leaving hyperspace. The Shaper had extended a message to the singular planet's king. A relatively short message, warning him of the no-doubt obvious threat of the encroaching Brynadul to his beloved home. That they would face a potent doom should the infection uncoiling itself from the galaxy's south-eastern corner sat it's slavering maw on course for Thurion's people. A few attached, short holovids of some of the other planets the Brynadul had taken being attached for posterity as well, before he extended a cordial invitation to meet with him here, in neutral space, and that it would be in the best interest of Midvinter for him to attend. That this statement was no threat, but a fact that both parties knew to be true.

As The Shaper watched the vessel containing Midvinter's King approach he murmured idly to himself "One would hate to see the Valkyri reduced to slavering brutes, Lord Heavenshield." These words would echo out to Thurion through the Force, true and somber regret lacing The Shaper's voice, though enough bite to them for Thurion to be aware it was an oddly well-meaning attempt to play at his nerves as the next sentence came. "I would weep to see the Ice Throne of Thainbroek shattered and broken as Midvinter's King....." The Shaper was, perhaps, making a point as his extension to Thurion faded away. An Imperial captain, Thrysus by his identification, approached the Shaper "My Lord, the Midvinter vessel has arrived. We have hailed them, as you ordered, and the communique is being relayed here for you." The Shaper nodded to the man, who stood firmly at attention, sweat slightly beading the middle-aged man's brow before the Shaper gave a small, amused smile. "Excellently done, you are dismissed Captain Thrysus." The man seemed almost shocked by the compliment. Even his professionally trained posture relaxing ever so slightly as he nodded. "Of course my Lord."

Once the Captain returned to his post The Shaper would approach the central terminal of the Evolution's bridge, every other crew member stepping away to give him some semblance of privacy for his talks with the King of Midvinter. As soon as Thurion were to accept the hail, a holographic display of the Shaper would appear upon his vessel, as would Thurion upon the Evolution. The Shaper would give a small, respectful bow to Thurion, a wry smile gracing his lips as he looked upon him. A tense moment hanging in the air before The Shaper's brow rose ever so slightly in a display of amusement. A very dry comment of "You look much older, since Dantooine." broke the silence. "I apologize that I could make your acquaintance more there. I was.... occupied." The Shaper's smile faded as his eyes settled on the hologram of Thurion's own, as he allowed Midvinter's King his response, before he would add. "Truthfully, Lord Heavenshield I would prefer to speak in person. As a gesture of good faith...." The Shaper paused as he indicated his robed and unarmed self. ".... I bear no weaponry and would, in fact, request to meet upon YOUR vessel."

Another slow, knowing smile graced The Shaper's unnatural features, obsidian hair being swept back casually as it became obvious this was not just a token of good faith, but a test as well. Confirmed by The Shaper's next words. "For someone who has stood before the once-emperor I doubt that I, alone and unarmed, would be a threat to you or your people. They are famed warriors, after all. So then, what say you King of Midvinter?"

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Aboard the Oathkeeper
Pochi Orbit
Arctus Silmar
​

An odd request indeed.

His wife had warned him not to trust the Sith, fearing that this meeting would result in her husband's capture or worse. Thurion replied that, it was precisely because a Sith would not set up a meeting like this that he felt compelled to attend. If they wanted his life they would simply come for him, and annihilate Midvinter in the process. They would not even need land on the planet.

Even so, he and Coci shared a kiss before he took off in his faithful old ship. The Oathkeeper was not a grand ship by any means, and more than likely regarded a relic by today's standards. Still, it had served him every step of the way from the day he was knighted.

Upon approaching the mighty Sith Star Destroyer designated as the Evolution, he could hear the whispers of his contact aboard the enemy vessel worming their way into his mind. He let them enter.

"One would hate to see the Valkyri reduced to slavering brutes, Lord Heavenshield. I would weep to see the Ice Throne of Thainbroek shattered and broken as Midvinter's King....."

"Thrones make not the King, Shaper, nor the crown he wears. That power lies solely with his people, and it is them that I devote myself to."

Ending their telepathic communication, now came time for more conventional methods through the use of holographic imagery. Responding to the Shaper's hail, the Sith Lord's likeness was displayed before him.

"You look much older, since Dantooine. I apologize that I could not make your acquaintance more there. I was.... occupied."

It's true. There were some grey sprinkled amongst his golden locks and beard, more with each year. Even so, he was only considered middle-aged by Valkyri standards. His human side felt his age, however, yet each wrinkle was worn with pride.

"And you appear to not have aged a day, my lord," his own comment was just as dry, recalling their brief meeting on Dantooine.

"Truthfully, Lord Heavenshield I would prefer to speak in person. As a gesture of good faith... I bear no weaponry and would, in fact, request to meet upon YOUR vessel. For someone who has stood before the once-emperor I doubt that I, alone and unarmed, would be a threat to you or your people. They are famed warriors, after all. So then, what say you King of Midvinter?"

There came a series of bleeps and boobs from his co-pilot in the form of R2-T2, his private astromech droid gifted to him by his wife. He took Teetoo's reluctance in consideration, further adding to his own.

"Very well, Shaper. Allow me to dock so you may come aboard. Then we shall speak."

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

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

A wry but genuinely amused smile tugged The Shaper's lip at Thurion's response, a flicker of amber coloring his eyes as he gave an idle shrug. "If only that were true..... I'm afraid I have also done quite a bit of aging since then. Some simply take pains to erase the evidence." The Shaper tilted his head ever so slightly, faintly able to hear the beeps and warbles of Thurion's droid companion, but Shaper had never cared to learn binary. The practice was far too new and, frankly, beneath him to notice but at Thurion's request to dock he inclined his head slightly. "As you wish." Without ending the transmission, perhaps yet another point, The Shaper turned and addressed one of the officers. "Allow Lord Heavenshield's ship to dock, I shall be joining him personally upon his vessel."

There was the tiniest silence, unspoken objection to allowing their Lord to go onto an enemy vessel alone and unarmed, but the crew of the Evolution complied. Setting about extending a docking clamp to the Oathkeeper as The Shaper returned his gaze to Thurion. "I shall be aboard shortly. No deception or trickery. No assassins or..." The Shaper's face wrinkled in genuine disdain ".....Ysalamir to blunt your threat to me. You may dock when ready." The Shaper then ended the communication feed, taking a moment to mull over the King's words before turning to Captain Thrysus. Seeing the obvious consternation in the man's face. The Shaper stated the obvious as the two of them began to walk. "You worry, Captain." The Captain, setting his jaw as he idly adjusted crew configurations and assignments on a datapad as they walked, nodded curtly. "I do my Lord. " A small, barely perceptible nod left The Shaper "Do not. The Heavenshields are nothing if not men of their words."

Thrysus sighed softly, exhaling excess air out his nose before letting his posture sag a bit. "Truthfully my Lord that is what worries me. No doubt the Heavenshield line has sworn death on our Empire more than they have ever sworn to hear us speak." The Shaper paused at the entrance to the dicking clamp, a small chuckle leaving him to Thrysus' surprise. The Shaper laid a hand on the man's shoulder and pat it, once, before the entrance to the docking clamp opened and he commented. "I suppose that is true Captain." Without another word of explanation or discussion The Shaper strode the opposite end of the docking clamp, Captain Thrysus vanishing once the door closed behind him, and as he set foot within the Oathkeeper The Shaper extended his senses. Idly wondering if Thurion had, in fact, come alone without a crew. Even this fact would give The Shaper some inkling as to the King's own mindset for this meeting.

This extension and reverie would end, however, as Thurion approached. The Shaper made effort to hide or suppress his signature in the Force, not here, he was being honest with Thurion in his own way. Whereas one like Carnifex felt for the galaxy like a yawning, mindless hole in the Force, The Shaper had not allowed himself to become something so base... so primal. There was a sharp, almost razor-like quality to his ebon presence in the Force. Like an inky, midnight shell Thurion could see himself in should he gaze too long, reflected and changed in the power of darkness, risen in flame and glory above in the order of existence. Flames of ambition licking around the very edges of The Shaper's shadow in the force, ruminating in and spreading from his simmering amber eyes.


Thurion Heavenshield

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

As comms switched off and the docking clamps grabbed hold of his ship, locking it into place as the airlock closed around the entrance, effectively becoming part of the Star Destroyer and allowing the Shaper entry. Another series of bleeps and swirls coming from the astromech droid, objecting to this entire event.

"I am well aware of the risk, Teetoo. Look, if there's any hint of trouble, just detatch us from their clamps and set course for home. Simple as that. How many Sith Lords have we outfoxed over the decades, hmm?"

He gave T2 a pat on his domed head, smiling fondly. "Old friend..."

"I do not believe this one plans to capture us. He would not risk facing me alone, on my own ship. The Sith may be cunning and cruel, but they are no fools. And neither are we."

Teetoo beeped his response as Thurion's smile quickly faded. He felt a vast darkness approaching, deafening to the senses. Cold and sharp, like needles piercing your mind. Likewise, his own aura of light would to the Sith Lord be as blinding as the sun. Warm and gentle, like a summer breeze.

The entrance slid open, revealing the Shaper on the other side. Thurion's eyes fixed themselves on those of the Sith Lord, keeping his distance for the time being. Before any words were shared between the two in person, he assured himself that he had indeed come unarmed. In response, he undid the clasp of his belt and removed the sheathed sword at his side, holding it out for the droid to take possession of with his mechanical arm popping out of his body.

Thurion stepped towards the Sith Lord, hands behind his back.

"I come alone. There is no crew besides this droid. No tricks, no traps."

Relaxing a bit, his hands reappeared as he removed his leather gloves and tossed them on a nearby table.

"I daresay you have me at a disadvantage, your lordship. 'Shaper' may be your official title, but it is not who you are as a person. Tell me your name."

There was genuine curiosity behind his words, he wished to know more about this dreaded Lord of the Sith that now stood before him. He preferred to address their kind by their name, not their Sith titles. He already knew the likes of Kaine and Braxus with all their shared history.

Additionally, there was the faint hope that calling them by their names would reach the person behind the veil of suffocating hatred these men draped themselves with. In spite of everything their ilk had done to the galaxy, Thurion needed to hope that there were still hope for anyone to redeem themselves. His personal beliefs demanded this of him.

Arctus Silmar ​

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

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

The Shaper regarded Thurion Heavenshield with stoicism as he unclasped the blade from his waist and handed it to the droid. The sword in question arresting The Shaper's attention from Thurion for a brief moment, his eyes following Anarion instead of Thurion as he hummed. His head tilting ever so slightly before he commented in a very neutral, factual manner. "The blade has been broken before. How interesting." Seemingly reminding himself of Thurion's existence The Shaper blinked once, twice, before returning his gaze to Thurion's. A small, polite smile gracing his lips "A fine blade and a craft worthy of respect." The Shaper weathered Thurion's own presence in the Force ust as the King of Midvinter did his own. He was far beyond the mere presence of a potent being like Thurion giving him pause, however, at Thurion's request for a name what polite respect there mat have been in The Shaper's gaze vanished. The smile fading from existence like a tiny flame smothered out in a gauntleted fist. The Shaper's eyes hardening for a fraction of a second before he commented in a slow, meaningful manner. "I am afraid, Lord Heavenshield, that if the only advantage I possess coming onto your vessel unarmed is the identity of a dead name, it is one I will keep."

He held Thurion's gaze a moment, declaring the matter settled in a way only the pride of a Sith allowed, before he seemed to realize Thurion had said anything else. "That is good. I would hate to cause your people discomfort with my presence and, perhaps, we should sit down?" The Shaper suggested idly, before following Thurion to wherever the King wished to sit. Seating himself first as a further show of some sort of trust The Shaper would close his eyes, the Whilstones within the crown upon his head glowing hotly for a single moment, before a sigh left his lips and he gently removed the crown. Setting it on the table before him. Even the crown and glowing gems he wore were permeated with darkness, the familiar whispering of the Dark Side emanating from the crown before The Shaper rested a hand upon it. The whispers going silent at their Master's touch.

Opening his eyes The Shaper looked upon Thurion and nodded "Now then, I'll not waste your time Lord Heavenshield. You are no fool, despite making foolish choices, and you know as well as I that the Brynadul encroach ever closer upon your home. Bearing down on you and your people with their savagery and I believe it was a king of your people who asked once: What can men do against such reckless hate?" The Shaper let this statement linger with Thurion before continuing as he leaned back fully in his seat. "I am sure you know the fate of Yurb, of Mon Cala. Their people now drown in their own blood, their bodies twisted and turned into naught but resources for these creatures. A fate only the worst of my own enemies would deserve, not unsuspecting children." A longer pause now, before The Shaper leaned forward, staring into Thurion's eyes as he stated slowly and firmly. "Not. Midvinter's. Children."

A pregnant pause followed these heavy words, the Whilstones dimming noticeably in the Iron Crown, before The Shaper closed his eyes and leaned back once more. Slowly. Uncertainty radiating from him for a moment before he opened his eyes and sighed. "I shall tell you something. The Empire is changing, Lord Heavenshield. Change wrought by my own hand and, soon, I am to be Emperor. That dead name now even more overshadowed by the grandeur of title and...... I am no fool. These creatures are a threat to our galaxy, the place where we.... whether syco-....." A pause, and The Shaper's lips twitched for a moment ".... followers of Ashla or adherents of Bogan. Whether we wish to sit as King of a planet or Emperor of an Empire.... we have a duty to our people, above all else. For whatever you think of the Sith, and there are those who become naughty but beasts who seek power for power's sake, I would sooner be torn asunder by the Nether than face a galaxy in which my power meant nothing."

The Shaper paused, his presence in the Force reacting to his emotions in a roil of prideful anger at the very notion. The Force faintly screaming in near-pain at even his suppressed expression, but it was once again controlled as he met Thurion's gaze one more time. Asking simply. "Your thoughts?"

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

There was genuine disappointment in his face when the man before him would not reveal his given name, declaring it dead and buried long ago. He did not agree with the sentiment, but would not press the matter further.

Joining him at the table while keeping a wary eye on the Sith Lord, Thurion listened with intent to the words he spoke, for they must be important indeed to warrant such a clandestine meeting of two polar opposites. He spoke of the threat the Bryn'adûl posed not just to his own world, but to every world in the known galaxy. He spoke of changes within the Sith Empire, of how he was poised to take the throne and his intention to stand up to the Bryn.

Blue eyes glanced down at the crown he'd taken from his brow to place upon the table, noting the influence seeping from the stones humming with power. A sense of unease settled in him, but it was not enough to sway him from his course.

"Your thoughts?"

Taking a moment to ponder his response by the way of stroking his beard, the King straightened in his seat as his gaze drove into that cold, emotional void that was the Shaper, unflinching as he had done so to many a great Sith Lords.

"Have you ever seen them, Shaper? The Bryn, I mean. Have you actually witnessed the sheer devastation these creatures bring upon every world they come across? The Jedi have had to contend with their kind for years while the rest of the galaxy has merely stood by and watched, including your empire. My own son has had to face them his whole adult life, so do not presume to instruct me on the horrors inflicted by this new enemy."

A pause, mostly to allow himself to maintain composure. "I know more than you could possibly imagine of the threat to my homeworld and to my people. I dwell upon it each and every night."

A deep sigh to relieve himself of his frustrations.

"My people are a proud race, Shaper. Stubborn, even. As it stands, if the Bryn chose to advance towards Midvinter there is little our defenses could do to stop them. The wisest course of action would be to engage in a mass-evacuation, but this is impossible. Setting aside the fact that my own people would rather tear me from my place for even suggesting to abandon their ancestral homeworld, the nature of all natives of Midvinter is to share a connection with the land itself. Should Midvinter fall, my people would forever lose hope and simply fade away, becoming ghosts without passion or purpose."

Thurion looked to the astromech droid as it came by to offer a glass of water to the pair, a tray upon its dome head. In its mechanical arm there rested his sword still.

"No, our only course of action is to stand and fight to the last man. And if we all should perish, at least we will have all done so together upon the same soil of our fathers, united as one even in death. I came to that conclusion years ago; all I can do now is to make sure we're as ready as can be when our doom is at hand."

Taking a sip from the cold water, the cool liquid served to refresh his spirit, alleviating the grim nature of their conversation some.

"Congratulations, by the way... Your Majesty," he inclined his head somewhat, showing the Sith Lord a modicum of respect that his soon-to-be post deserves, regardless of allegiance.

"I do not envy you your task."

Arctus Silmar ​