Among the Ashes

[Kyyrk]

Dorin stood among the rubble of a once great Temple on Arbra. His Temple. It was his first time returning there after the attack. He'd had time to think about things. Process what had happened. Now he was back to see a proper end to things. He wanted to pick through the rubble, see if there was anything worth keeping. Not that he had a place to keep it, but...it was all that was left of his friends. His family.

But there would be time for that later. He had left his helmet at the edge of the rubble with his small campsite, instead donning his simple black cloth veil. He had also removed the cloths from his armor, as he was likely going to be doing some digging. Or at the very least, setting up some form of shrine. He couldn't stay here and sift through the rubble to find everyone, much as he wanted to. He paused for a moment, having just set a large chunk of the temple on the corner of his shrine. The nearby villagers were beginning to gather, he noticed. Talking among themselves and whispering to each other.

Dorin turned back to his task, and pushed the rubble into position. It was the final piece, and his rudimentary shrine was complete. One day he'd be able to come back and make a more permanent memorial. He knelt down in front of the memorial, catching his breath. He felt a single tear slip down his cheek as he paused. So much death. So many lives ended. And for what? Dorin pulled a sword from his back. Not his, but rather the sword that had once belonged to Master Orix. His mentor. He positioned it in front of him, and sunk the blade into the earth, letting the sword stand in front of the memorial. He was tempted to say a few words, if only for himself and the ghosts, but he decided not to. Someone was coming...

[member="Duke_of_Vandemar"]

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

The deck was vibrating while the freighter entered the atmosphere of this green planet, shaking the single man aboard it. The tall individual was looking at the incoming ground from the co-pilot seat with folded arms, the pilot droid giving a short notice of the estimated landing time.
Closing in to the planets surface and destination one could see some smoke rising as well as a big area of ruins as the source of the smoke. Slightly squinting Bram Sigismund leaned forward in his seat, his battle armour making a clanking sound. The HWK-290 slowly lands at the area in front of the ruins, a fizzling sound accompanies the sagging of the shuttle on its landing gear. Before the turbines actually shut down, the back ramp opens and with the clanking of heavy, studded boots on metal, Sigismund leaves his ship.

The people made space for the landing ship and now stare at the person leaving the ship. Clad in shining golden armour, a person of more than two meters stood in front of them, a closed helmet with blue lenses staring at them before turning towards the pile of ruins. In his hand a staff which appears to be a weapon, which he holds horizontal in one of his hands while approaching the single person standing in front of an apparently more structured pile of rubble, maybe a grave.
His helmet turning to the ruins, seemingly scanning them, before returning the look at the individual man. Even while he seems vulnerable without weapon ready, his body is tensed and ready to counter possible threats.

Distorted by the helmet a deep, gravelly voice sounds from beneath the visor: "What happened here?"

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin didn't look up as the ship landed, instead pushing aside a small piece of rubble to investigate a glint of light underneath. And still, how the Force worked in mysterious ways. Another tear rolled down his cheek as he picked up the pendant that lay among the rubble. The boarding ramp of the ship dropped behind him, and he could feel the closing presence of someone. He stood, gripping the pendant tight, and turned to face the man. A Zakuulan. He would recognize that armor from anywhere. Rare to see someone in traditional Knight garb these days.

"There was an attack, little over a week ago." Dorin looked around the field of rubble for a moment before turning back to the newcomer. "Whatever you have come here seeking, I doubt you will find it now. The Order is gone, and I am all that remains."

Dorin glanced off to the side, and reached out with his right hand, calling his Sword to him. He spun it around into its sheath on his back. The presence of a Zakuulan was...curious, particularly considering what he'd just learned about his order. Could they be behind this? No, they couldn't be. Else they'd not be standing here talking. Dorin looked the armored man in the eye, and said, "I am Dorin, of the House of Arkx. The Last of my Blood. Now the sole guardian of the knowledge this order once held."

[member="Duke_of_Vandemar"]

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Sigismund musters the man while he is talking and introducing himself as Dorin Arkx. A slight clang can be heard when the staff of his pike meets the ground, he makes no other movement, just standing there for a moment. With a single hand he grabs the helmet at its crest and removes it, revealing a stern face with indifferent green eyes beneath a shaven head, while putting the helmet in his left armpit.

He bows his head and torso slightly as a greeting. "Bram Sigismund."

"I assume when you say 'order', you mean the Order of Force Hunters?"

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin was somewhat taken aback by the man's inquiry. He was here specifically for the Order. Not that they didn't have visitors, the Order was just out of the way, not hidden. But most of the visitors they did have were nobility, not Force Users themselves. And yet here stood a Zakuulan asking if he was in the right place. "Yes. Guardians of the less fortunate for millennia, until.." Dorin gestured to the rubble around him.

He looked Bram over again for a moment, and folded his arms over his chest, a small rumble being heard for a brief moment as his left hand made contact with his breastplate, before his right arm pressed close and prevented it from shaking. His head dipped in embarrassment for the briefest of moments, and he laughed quietly. "I...I will help you in whatever way I can, Master Sigismund. Tell me, what need have you of the Hunters?"

[member="Duke_of_Vandemar"]

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

The expression of the Zakuulan remains indifferent while he hears the question and notices the reaction of the man. Sigismund´s emotions never defined his thinking or motivation, it was equally difficult for him to understand other peoples´ reactions, therefore he often remained silent and thought about possible approaches before actually speaking.

"I came here to seek knowledge and company. Inquiries and research guided me to this location in search for Force practitioners who do not dogmatically divide between light and dark. My interest is - or was, to learn and gain more knowledge."

Taking another look at the surrounding area before locking his look back on Dorin, Bram continued: "What exactly happened here and who did it?"

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin paused. That question. That damn question. It'd been haunting him for the last week. Who? Who would do this? He was quiet for a moment, looking off into the distance. "I don't know."

What did he know? Not much, or at least that's how he felt. Dorin looked back at Bram. "As you could probably guess, I was not present when the attack occurred. I was off-world on Commenor, helping the natives win their freedom from the Sith. While there, I was attacked by a Spectre. Much stronger, and much older, than any I've seen in my travels previously. I was able to fend it off, but not before it...gave me a vision. Not a...warning, but a threat. I knew then that the temple had been destroyed. I'm not sure what it was, or who it served, but it was responsible for the Order's downfall."

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

This man was very trusting to someone who he doesn´t know, especially after seemingly losing all of what was dear to him. The story sounded true, yet it seemed rather strange, Bram hasn´t heard a story like that so far, nor is very sure of what it means. Was it a mistake to come here? What could a destroyed temple and a vengeful man do for him except for dragging him into a fight which was not his?

The armoured human stood there for a while, thinking, before raising his voice again. "What do you plan to do now?"

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin looked back at the memorial he had erected. "Honor the dead. Look through the rubble, see if there's anything I should preserve. After that..." Dorin turned back to the man. "Look for answers where I can. Help whoever I can. If I am to be the last of my people, I would see that we are remembered favorably by the galaxy." Dorin looked the man up and down for a moment, then said, "Starting with you. I am not foolish enough to believe that you have ventured all this way to mourn the loss of an Order you believed to be whole until your arrival. You were coming to seek audience with us. Normally a task for the Councilors, but...in their absence, that task falls to me."

Dorin sank to one knee, bringing his left fist around to the small of his back, and his right fist to his chest in a salute, bowing his head as he did so. As soon as his knee touched the ground, he stood again, bringing his hands around to clasp at the small of his back. "How might we serve you, Master Sigismund?"

[member="Duke_of_Vandemar"]

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Bram Sigismund frowns upon the gesture of the man. "There is no need to fall into the dirt, man. I am neither your master nor liege."

He looks at the kneeling man and nods slightly with his head to signal him to rise again. "Maybe we should discuss this matter at a time where we are less exposed in both location and, in your case, mental state. I will help you and we talk afterwards."

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin smirked at the man. "You have your customs, and we have ours. Gestures of respect come in many forms across the galaxy. We, however, afford the same recognition to all beings, be they serf or lord." Dorin studied the man's face for a moment. He was older, for sure, but not quite as old as Dorin. Perhaps only his junior by a decade. It made him wonder what this man could possibly want. Most beings of his age and standing would have sent an underling. Disgraced warrior, perhaps? Dorin would learn soon enough.

"I do thank you for your concern over my well being, but I assure you there is nothing more invigorating than work." He gestured to the field around him. "As the best I have to offer is naught but a field of rocks, perhaps we had best speak on your ship, Master Sigismund?" Almost immediately thinking to the man's objection, Dorin added, "Is there a different title you would prefer?"

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

"Just call me Sigismund." He looks at the man and his proposal, unsure about this new 'friend' and the idea to board his ship. Bram does not recognise any bad intentions in this person, yet he is not too trusting. Though he believes that he could defend himself against this order member if necessary.

He bows slightly and makes a step aside while turning his body, kinda 'revealing' the ship behind him, while keeping his view on Dorin. "Be my guest, Dorin Arkx."

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin nods to the man, and gestures towards the ship, indicating Bram should lead the way. "I would like to get my datapad from my camp. I will meet you there."

Dorin turned and strode off towards his camp, taking this moment to bring the pendant he had found up over his head. He dropped it down under his armor, and patted his chest as if to reassure it that it was safe. When he reached his camp, he packed quickly. Not that there was much to pack. Dorin had always been one to travel light. He picked up his helmet and clipped it to his belt, and affixed his combat cloths back to his armor, finally picking up the blanket he'd used to lay on. He reached out, and called his datapad to him, clipping it to the holster at his right hip, opposite the lightsaber now securely fastened to his left.

As he walked back towards the Zakuulan's ship, he closed his eyes, pulling his veil away, and stuffing it into his satchel. He replaced it with his helmet, reopening his eyes as he heard the familiar hiss of the vacuum seal engaging. He strode up the boarding ramp behind Bram, now looking a bit more like the fearsome warriors his people were rumored to be. "So tell me Sigismund, what manner of evil has prompted you to seek my aid?"

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Bram turned on the spot, walking back towards his ship with his clanking, plated boots leaving deep marks in the ground. The staff of his pike accompanying every step with a little noise and a dot marking on the ground. The ramp of his freighter still being open, he simply moved into it after the other man came back. Upon hearing the question of the order member, Bram answers without turning, while moving to a small desk with two seats on opposite sides.

"I said that I am seaching for company and knowledge. My powers are limited but I seek further refinement and improvement. Further learning is not possible without others."

The Zakuulan sits down at the desk, his immense size appearing to be barely held by the seat. He places his helmet on the table and leans the pike at the wall next to him. Raising his plated hand he offers the other seat to Dorin.

"Please, take a seat."

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin nodded his head in thanks, and sat down. "Then I am afraid you've made this trip in vain. I can teach you some of the basics, but I believe you would already know them. And...I don't know I trust you enough to share our more...unique secrets."

Dorin glanced around the ship, before landing back on Bram. "As for company...Well, that I could offer you. Though I'm afraid comradery alone does not put food in stomachs. As many in my Order, I am a traveling hunter, that seeks work at any opportunity. Not to mention the...undertaking of trying to discover who did this."

Dorin watched the man in silence for a moment, before asking a rather pointed question. "Why'd you leave Zakuul?"

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Bram Sigismund is sitting straight in his seat, one arm on the table and another on his knee. His cold eyes are fixed like targetting devices on the other man. "That appears to be the case. I am not a hunter nor an investigator, therefore I won´t offer my support for your vendetta."

Making a short pause. "Do not feel offended, but this mission does not appear to be mine, nor benefit from any of my strengths. If I can help you here and now, ask right away and I will try to do what is in my power. I am willing to offer you transport as well."

On purpose he ignores the question - the assumption about Zakuul.

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin arched a brow under his helmet. He pulled out his datapad, and typed something in. Bram's answer, or lack there of, told him possibly more than anything else he could have said. "Of course not. You are a proud knight, a bastion of peace and justice or whatever they say in the holovids these days." Dorin looked back at Bram. "It is a shame you did not attempt to contact us sooner. You missed a lovely little skirmish on Commenor."

Dorin fell silent for a moment. He looked at the man's pike, assuming it to be one of the lightsaber pikes that Zakuulans were so fond of. "Perhaps...I could teach you a few things. Some of the more...common techniques." He looked back to Bram, gesturing to the pike. "We are masters of sword and blade, moreso than combat through the Force. Would you mind if I inspected your weapon? There...may be modifications in order."

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

"You are assuming quite much, hunter. I am neither a Knight nor proud. My interest lies with Force teachings, not combat and as you said, I know the basics and more, therefore I am interested in knowledge and teachings which surpass my horizon at this point, hence why I seek them." The Zakuulans voice remained calm, but was interspersed with steel.

Kinda freezing with his eyes fixed on Dorin, not looking at his weapon. "This weapon is more valuable than the ship we are sitting in, do you really believe I would give it away?"

 

[Kyyrk]

Dorin watched the man for a moment, then unhooked the lightsaber from his hip, and set it on the desk. "Our order uses techniques that, as I understand them, are not compatible with normal weapons. If you would feel better, you may keep my blade in your possession as long as you would like while I inspect yours, and make the necessary recommendations." Dorin's gaze fell to the blade in front of them. "About five millennia old, it is no longer functional. Worth several million credits for its age alone, not to mention its craftsmanship."

Dorin leaned back in his chair, looking at Bram. "You asked for my help, and I am attempting to offer it. Against my better judgement, I might add."

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

"The credit value is not my interest, nor is it to improve my weapon. My answer is no." He keeps his view focused on the hunters helmet. "I have come here to search for help and haven´t asked so far. As you were correctly highlighting, you are what is left of your Order. A single invidiual company is not what I seek, nor can I depend on the judgement and training of a single individual without additional trainers or instructors."

Rising his head a millimeter. "Do not take offence here. I offer you my help in the case of leaving this planet or searching and excavating the ruins, but not more."