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Faction Bastion | Knights Obsidian

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R O O N

Location: Castra Obsidia, Roon
Tag:


Apatros had been an eye-opening experience.

The annals of history once spoke of an old Republic. One where the military turned against its Force-wielding population in a literal massacre. While accusations of corruption and treason were cited as the reasons why...one could never fully know the truth. In the present, the Knights Obsidian found themselves looking back to this ancient atrocity with a question in their minds. Was it truly treason - or was there something far more sinister at work? In the case of the Obsidian host, they too had stared the barrel of their nation's armed forces.

And while it was uncovered that an enemy of the state was ultimately responsible, the event had been the culprit behind the organization's departure from the military's supervision. Yet, though there was a solid degree of separation between the Confederate Defense Force and the Knights Obsidian, the unease yet lingered. Peace reigned for the Southern Systems, but many within the Knighthood wondered what would happen if the military turned upon them once more. Could they withstand the countless droids? Could they survive once more?

The Lord Commander was not deaf to the concerns of his people.

While the sentiment had not grown into a fervor, it was time that what remained was addressed beyond the separation. The Knighthood as a whole needed to know what the future held in store; and needed to know that there was a plan should the worst come to pass. Thus, Rience called a meeting of the Masters Council. The highest tower of the freshly-erected Castra Obsidia was opened; and for the first time, a handful of notable individuals would be welcomed to join the Council's proceedings. Exceptional Knights and Survivors of Apatros namely.

To seat them, a wide table had been prepared. Round and with many seats, beneath a chandelier illuminated via candlelight. As the appointed hour drew near, the Knights attending the meeting hall opened the doors to admit the chosen within. There was much to be settled here this day - the future itself rested in their hands.

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Voph was among the first to arrive. When a summons had been sent to draw the Knights Obsidian to a council, he was already on his way. It was no formality or duty to which he rode. No, his purpose there was something greater. Something he'd not felt in living memory. Friends, he had few of. People he could trust, even fewer. But his time among the Southern Systems showed him one key thing: The Knights Obsidian were his family. And he would fight for them to the death.

The Battle at Apatros had left them all shaken. In some form or another. To have ones brothers in arms turn on them at the drop of a hat, simply because they had been given orders... Voph's brow furrowed involuntarily at the thought. Such actions, were they not careful, could be the undoing of the Confederacy. Internal strife claimed far more nations than sieges ever had. But he understood what must be done. What might await them should they sit idle. Peace was not won by laying down arms. Peace was won by preventing fights before they started. Was a war against the Defense Force likely? No. Was it a war of impossible odds? Of course. Was Voph a stranger to such a war?

No.

As the black-robed man took his seat, he placed a datapad upon the table. He knew the odds facing them were slim at best, should their host nation choose to strike them down. But he would gladly help lead the Knights on one final crusade, should it be asked of him. But as Voph settled into his chair, he let his mind wander. There were other matters at stake, beyond simply war. Some of which he was not as well versed in. But yet, his advice would be offered when sought, and his guidance would be given to those that asked. Such it had always been, and such would it always be...
 
It was not the same. It would never be again. Castra Obsidia was a new venue, but the rules were no different. The Knighthood called to order its adherents and they appeared. Apart from the Citadel in Golbah City, detached from the Defense Force not only from necessity, but from fear and uncertainty the Knights Obsidian sequestered themselves away from the Confederacy as a whole to conduct their business.

This marked a new age for the sect. It meant they operated outside of the mandate given by the Minister of War. It segregated them from those they once operated with in close proximity. It created dissension.

In a sense, it made them more like the Republic and the Jedi.

In another way, it meant that oversight became internal. The Lord Commander would play the highest ranking official, bar the Vicelord. There would be no entanglements with the Minister of War. They would have the autonomy that for so long they lusted after.

All these implications and more, Alkor Centaris bore in silence. Contemplative, the Dark Jedi watched a torrential rain pour over the plains of Roon as his transport glided toward the Castra's Hangar Bay. Rience had reinstated Alkor as a Knight, but disbarred his position as Knight Commander until further notice. With that in mind, Alkor was no different from any of the others.

No different and yet, a world apart.

Reince and Alkor had spoken sparingly in the time since the incident. It was clear the man harbored no ill will or grudge, but the same could not be said for those who followed him. His closest advisors, his friends, his loved ones- all of them knew of Alkor's attempt on the man's life.

He silently disembarked the transport with a single black lightsaber hilt on his hip, and a cloak hanging from his mantle over a white undershirt. Alkor had never been known to dress fashionably. He saw no reason to start now.

As he walked, he kept his right arm hidden and suppressed with the Force. Those who probed him would not sense the darkness from it, but perhaps the absence of feeling might occur to them. If they cared enough, that is.

He arrived in the hall unceremoniously and without any heraldry. Entrances were not his strong suit. There were many others who would find their spotlight today, and he hoped it would remain on them entirely.
 

Taramaz Arcturus

Guest
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It had been a few days since Taramaz had met the spectral form of his brother on Miranda. He had to admit, it had been good to see someone he knew after so long. So long, and so many changes. His sources had told him of the occurrences since his departure, though he had only cared for the Knights Obsidian, which seemed to be the only source of major news. He had heard of the traitorous assault on a Knights Obsidian sanctuary, a Confederate Fleet turned against the Knights Obsidian by their Fleet Marshal, who had been an agent for an organisation known as the Crucible, who had desired to topple the might of the Confederacy. A task that had seemed so impossible until they had tried.

Philosophical thoughts had no place in a meeting of the practical future, though. Upon his official return to the Confederacy but a few days ago, he had reclaimed his position on the Masters Council, and entered into the Chapter of Twilight, Acanthus, they called it. The balance between the Light and the Dark. Where he might have once joined the Chapter of Night, he had seen the benefits of being neutral in the Force.

He entered the meeting chamber in Castra Obsidia. He came for three reasons, his duty as an initiated Master, to represent the Vicelord and his interests, and to progress himself in the order. For if there was to be a Confederate Civil War, the Vicelord needed people he could trust in high places. And who could he trust more than his own brother, and the Captain of his Guard?

Taramaz took a seat, directly to the left of the Obsidian Commander. In the event of there being higher rank Knights than himself, these seats would have been reserved for them. Yet Taramaz was no ordinary Master. Once he had been seated, he used an ancient Force technique, allowing the Vicelord to hear and see all that Taramaz heard and saw. He had to admit, being over 13 foot tall made it discomforting to sit in a regular chair.
 
Kurenai had not been present for the battle of Apatros but it's story sent a bad feeling of Deja vu through the old women's mind. The events taking place being much to similar to order 66 during her youth. Though what really happened that day was never fully discovered foul play and the Sith were probably the main suspects in that manner and now it was happening here right in the middle of the CIS. First the events at Kuat and the betrayal of the Eternal Empire and now this, if things were not fixed how long until another more catastrophic event like this took place, one that could very well rip the Confederacy apart.

She could only hop that the coming meeting and further steps taken would be the beginning of the end for these sorts of issues. No doubt the Sith Empire was looking upon these crack within their borders, waiting for the appointed time to strike. Before then the Knights had to fix these crack and strengthen the internal workings of the government. The only problem facing her mind was how, even with her age and experience political matters were not Kurenai's forty, never the least she needed to help were it was needed.

With her ever stoic expression and military like pose she strode into the almost vacant room, giving a nod of acknowledgment to the members already there. Two being very familiar faces, one not so much, but now wasn't the time or place to ponder such thoughts, herself quickly moving to take a seat at the table patiently awaiting the rest of the council and other members who were invited.
 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
Location: Assembly Hall
Wearing: xxx
With: Interaction Open

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Blue eyes looked down upon the summons which danced across the screen of the datapad in Gerwald's hand. It took some time for him to register what was being asked as the native Stewjonian was still working actively to improve his ability to read and write. It had not been a high priority for those of his caste on Stewjon, but among the Confederacy there was a high value placed on education for all. Gerwald had taken advantage of it, but found his mind was better suited to learn the ways of combat than they were to books, words, and the formation of them. Naturally Gerwald had the ability to make a short and to the point reply in regards to his acceptance. Nothing flowery or grand was needed, exactly how he liked his communication in general. Gerwald was not certain as to why the summons had been sent, but he supposed that was a matter of actually attending to discover.​
Entering the assembly hall proved to put Gerwald among more of the notable Knights, mostly masters of the order, and certainly not the kind Gerwald would normally be seen invited to spend time with in a setting like this. Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris was present which meant Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath was somewhere as well, if it even worked that way. Gerwald was still uncertain about what he had experienced earlier in regards to her ghost walking out from among his shadow.​
A small nod was offered to the Master Knight.​
Gerwald looked over the rest of the room and regretted the thought he did not know as many of them as he would have liked. The other faces were familiar, but he could not say he knew any of them beyond reputation, or having seen them before. Kyyrk Kyyrk was present, but only known as the host of a party where Gerwald spent still coping with the death of his friend. The rest of the faces, Gerwald was unsure he could put a name to. There was nothing wrong with that per se, however it did highlight how many people Gerwald did not know.​
It still begged the question, why was Gerwald there? This was not the kind of thing Gerwald had been invited to before, or his presence requested. Something felt odd about it, enough to make the lupine cautious. That caution is what made the wolf keep his distance, and his eye on the nearest exit. One never knew when a hasty escape would be needed.​
 
Slim digits clasped a wineglass, swirling the pale liquid around and around as Lunara took a deep breath, savouring the smell of the beverage. Crystal blue eyes looked up for a moment, scanning the room, watching the other Knights Obsidian as they entered. Some she knew like Alkor, some she knew only by reputation like the infamous Voph. Others she hadn’t met…yet.

Yet none of that mattered, it didn’t matter if they knew one another or not, they were connected, bonded by the brotherhood, the sisterhood of the Knights. It was what had drawn them all here to answer the summons, well that or curiosity or any number of other emotions. Some base, some selfish some noble, but they all came. They always answered the call.

The white-haired woman’s mind drifted back, back to a young girl bound to a sacrificial altar, to a moment of terror and acceptance. To that ferverent wish that someone, anyone would come. A palde digit rose to stroke at the golden streak that ran through her hair. She’d managed to get out of that predicament, but the cavalry hadn’t been far behind. They’d never been far behind.

She’d spent years protecting her home, fighting with the Order of Fire to keep the dark away from the lives of ordinary citizens. They’d done it well…for a time. A sad smile touched her lips as she watched the Knights moving around. Chaos was an inescapable force, they could stand against it but eventually it washed over all defences. Eventually everything fell.

But not today.

Today the Knights stood strong, today the Confederacy wouldn’t fall. Raising the glass to her lips Lunara took a sip of her wine before a slow breath left her body. It was just, times like this, they always reminded her about the past, the good times and the bad. It was like a tapestry that repeated itself as far as the eye could see.

Only, well she’d never been much good at weaving when she’d tried. That monstrosity that she’d ended up using as a blanket for the dogs was the best she’d ever made. So if the tapestry of fate was determined to keep repeating, well she was good at messing up tapestries. For now though…now she’d wait for the discussion to start, to see why they had been called her.

For now, she had her wine to enjoy, and the rest of the knights to watch.
 

Hisashi

Guest
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Location: Castra Obsidia - Council Chambers
Accompanying: Áine


It was strange to be...Content.

For quite some time, Hisashi had thought himself content with his lot in life. He was a killer. A destructor who knew only how to shed blood. It was pure fortune that saw him find a suitable place within the Knighthood - for the number of adversaries they faced were never few. However, while he was certainly satisfied with the sum of blood which caked his blade, the shinobi was very much alone. A life of battle had taught him not to forge bonds - lest the heart be ripped asunder by loss.

Yet, in recent history, he found himself taking the plunge. And thus far...he was Happy.

The joy which had wormed into his heart did not immediately translate upon the man's face however. There was a time for bright smiles and there was a time for severity. When he had received the summons, there was no doubt in Hisashi's mind what was on the table for discussion this day. Apatros had shown that there was an insurmountable foe potentially awaiting them - and it was the very same entity they once called comrade. And, though the treachery had been uncovered and the massacre quelled, Hisashi was no fool.

None of the Knighthood were fools.

They had to be ready. Their blades sharp and their minds even sharper. Thus, the shinobi made his swift appearance into the Council Chambers in short order. And at his side were the two staples in his daily world. The first was his sword. The second was his Áine. Night and day they were - one an elegant woman, the other garbed in base robes with minimal fanfare. Hisashi paused only to admit his companion into her seat before taking his own. Silence ruled him as his gaze swept across the table.

He trusted them. They would endure.​

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Location: Castra Obsidia - Council Chambers
Tag: Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Kurenai Yumi Kurenai Yumi | Taramaz Laurs | Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris | Kyyrk Kyyrk | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Hisashi


The revelation of recent history had left Rience...stunned.

Between Apatros and the recent strike on Geonosis, it was no small surprise that the Lord Commander was fresh from Golbah City. He had his own cross to bear - braving the office of the Vicelord in order to review the breach. The assault was something that would never transpire again, the Knighthood would certainly see to it. However, the conversation also shared a nugget of truth. Melig was but a vessel. A puppet. And the one pulling the strings was Darth Metus all along. That reality, while shocking, resulted in some degree of comfort residing in the pit of the man's stomach.

At the very least, above the military stood one like them. One Rience - and many within the Knighthood - felt he could personally trust.

In the present, the Lord Commander made his entry into Castra Obsidia as brief as possible. His vessel settled down within the Hangar in short order and a brisk pace led him along the corridors and into the Council Chambers. Already, notable members of the Obsidian Host had gathered in response to his summons. He raised a hand as he entered, signaling that they remain seated, as he strode over to his seat. Placing both hands upon the rear of the wooden chair, he paused and swept his gaze over the room.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming so quickly." he began, tugging the chair backward. He promptly seated and righted himself within the seat, before continuing. "I am confident you are aware of the reason for this meeting. Recent events have left their mark upon the Confederacy, and upon the Knighthood as a whole. There are rumblings of concern: what happens if Apatros happens anew? How can we protect ourselves? And, rest assured, by the end of this meeting, we shall have an answer."

Rience raised a finger, indicating a pause in that train of thought.

"But first, we've matters of the Order to attend to. As we focused upon the Confederacy's expansion and fulfilling our duties, the Knighthood has grown. We have been blessed with many new faces - but we have also suffered great losses. I would be remiss not to address that foremost." As he spoke, his gaze fell first upon the form of Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris - the one who had made an attempt on his life...but in doing so, concluded Rience's own identity crisis. He was both grateful and aflamed. An odd reality. He then looked to the Wolf of Stewjon, Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner .

Stories abounded. Rumors of vengeance. Whispers of heroism. But, there was not one in this room who had not seen the man or at least knew of him. "Effective immediately, Gerwald Lechner of Stewjon is to be recognized as a Master of the Force. A seat upon the Master's Council is yours, should you desire it." As he spoke, his dominant hand extended - as if to welcome the Wolf to take a well-earned seat at the table. But, Rience was far from done.

"Moreover, news has reached my ears of the story of an exceptional Knight. One who gave her life in order to defend that which we hold dear. She stared down the Empire's Lord of Death. Unflinching. Posthumously, I confer upon her the rank of Master of the Force. Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath will be remembered by us all. And her loved ones will be seen to - as is our way." The Lord Commander promptly withdrew his hand and returned his attention to Alkor Centaris.

"It is no small feat to be trusted by the Vicelord directly. No small feat to fight, ceaselessly, for the Confederacy either. I was remiss - blind even - by the doctrine handed to me by my predecessor. You are responsible for opening my eyes, in more than one way. Thus, I would see you resume your duties as an Obsidian Lord...but not as a Lord Marshal. As you are all aware, we have instituted Chapters as a means of educating the Knighthood all the more. Of introducing them to a less...stringent...view of the Force. I can think of none other better suited to lead the Thorn Chapter than you, Master Centaris. The role is yours, should you accept."

One might have found it humorous that he moved from the topic of sight to addressing the presence of a Miraluka. But seamlessly, Rience motioned towards the former Viceroy of Vylmira. The man had given it all to serve the Knighthood - and this was a sacrifice that Rience would not soon forget. "Master Voph of Vylmira. I can also think of none better suited to demonstrate a path of Balance than you. Should you accept, I would welcome you to the Obsidian Lords as steward of the Acanthus Chapter."

Lastly, there was the matter of three faces Rience had not seen in quite some time. Taramaz Laurs, Kurenai Yumi Kurenai Yumi , and Lunara Azure Lunara Azure had all served the Confederacy and the Knighthood well. And, though he did not know them all personally, his predeccessors, peers, and the Vicelord himself knew their worth. Thus, he spoke once more. "Experience and Trust are not easily gained. Yet these three souls have demonstrated both. Tremendously. It is with great pleasure that I would extend to Masters Laurs, Yumi, and Azure the mantle of Lord Marshal. Should they accept, they will stand as Obsidian Lords."

The Lord Commander gave pause, enough so that those chosen could speak their minds. But now, the matter of their summoning was at hand. Leaning back upon his seat, Rience motioned towards them all. "What we have to discuss today is the future of our order. Of securing ourselves so that we might best secure the Confederacy. Apatros was an eye-opening experience, so much so that we must plan for the absolute worst-case scenario. So I ask you all, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Knights Obsidian, what say you? How should we best prepare ourselves for a clash with the Confederate Defense Force?"

For what they lacked in numbers, they made up for in Obsidian.​

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Áine

Guest
Á
Aine knew nothing of the horrors that the knights who endured the Battle of Apatros had faced, but she had heard all the tales.

In truth, Aine felt that if she were alone, she would have ignored the call. However, it was the man on the end of her arm who had, unexpectedly, shown her the benefit of friendships. The experiment was designed to be a lone wanderer. Whether she had been cursed with it, or she had chosen it, up until recently it was all Aine knew. It was all she wanted to know. Her heart had been closed to any kind of bond for so long that she had forgotten just how good it felt. How good it felt to be needed.

He had known loss through the type of pain she had been created to inflict. In both personality and lifestyle, they were completely different. She walked the lavish corridors, lived in fine silks and weaved eloquent words. He allied himself with the sword and warriors alike, relying on his blade to do the talking for him. They were far beyond what any would consider a smart match. Like chalk and cheese, but Aine couldn’t have pictured herself beside anyone else. At least not now. Hisashi was the reason she strolled to her seat at the circle table, to sit beside the other masters on the Knight’s Obsidian council. The questions on all of their minds required answers, and the threats that lingered on their doors required action. The chaos that Apatros had created could no longer be ignored.

Aine took the seat that Hisashi pulled out for her and settled herself for the meeting to begin.

It made sense for her to stay quiet after all her prowess here lay in her powers. Her life span had given way to a mastery of the force, and it had been guided and nurtured by one who was much older, wiser and powerful than she. But she had yet to make her mark on the Confederacy, she had yet to demonstrate this power in a capacity that would have allowed her to speak freely at this gathering. For now, she simply sat and listened.

 
Beric Layne did not consider himself to be a soldier. He had devoted his life to training in the force and in the lightsaber to be a protector and, when needed to be, a warrior, but he had never dreamed of becoming some sort of crusader fighting for vengeance, bloodlust, or glory. That was not his mission, that was not the purpose that he had been given. But the Lord of Frosthall understood sacrifice and duty more than anything, and so he did not condemn the actions of others. In that regard, he was appreciative of the open-mindedness that framed the collective ideals of the Knights Obsidian.

Beric sat in an inconspicuous seat at the table, surrounded by many unfamiliar faces. It was only by virtue of his own experience that Beric had become a Knight when he'd joined the order, but in truth Beric had very little experience as a Knight Obsidian when compared to the majority of his peers sitting at the table. A fur cloak draped his shoulders as he rested a gauntleted forearm on the thick table, listening with intent to the words of the Lord Commander as he elevated those deserving to a higher position, lamented their losses and praised their victorious, both living and dead. Beric silently bowed his head in respect to the sacrifice that Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath had made against the evil of the Sith Empire.

It was the Lord Commanders last words that truly gained Beric's attention, however. The man spoke of the betrayal by the Confederacy Defense Force over Apatros and of the losses that the Knights Obsidian suffered there. Beric had not been a member of the order when the betrayal had occured, but even Frosthall had been aware of the tragedy that had occurred on that day. In the frigid colds, with the autumn air sweeping around him, Beric had felt the loss of life that day and the sudden wretch of anger that had permeated from the battle. Ones emotions were just as vulnerable to injury, yet harder to detect and even harder to treat. Even now, Beric could sense the anger that still remained; it slowly crept like a black filth over the chamber as the Lord Commander spoke of Apatros. And yet, despite his convictions against the militarization of the Knights Obsidian, Beric recognized that he did not yet hold the respect or command the authority to give a credible voice to his opinions. And so he merely stayed silent, deciding to instead learn more of his fellow Knights and their ideas before he put himself out into the spotlight.
 
Voph nodded once as Darth Metus Darth Metus addressed the gathering, an acknowledgement of his greeting. It was hardly worth thanking Voph for coming on a moment's notice. The Knights were his family. His livelyhood. He would travel to the ends of the galaxy for them. And, it would seem, that this trait had not gone unnoticed.

Voph nodded deeply, almost a form of seated bow, as Rience offered him the position at the helm of the Acanthus chapter. Voph's hair fell loose about the black band around his head, a subtle sign of mourning. The time was soon to come when he would reclaim his typical standard. But tradition dictated a full lunar cycle of his homeworld. The Black mantle turned to the rest of the Knights gathered, pausing to nod at Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris as he was also recognized. Voph drew a breath, then began to speak.

"My brothers. My sisters. I wish to congratulate those among us for their recognition. And to join in the remembrance of Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath . She will indeed be missed. May she live forever in our hearts, and may the Force rejoice in her reunion with it's body."

Voph bowed his head for a moment, falling silent in honor of the fallen. When his head rose, his tone became that of business. "Strength invites challenge. From without, and from within. The Confederacy is our home, but as Apatros has shown us, things may change. And this is a change we best be prepared for."

Voph took a moment to survey the group around him. "While the C.D.F. have superior numbers, we have superior might. But, as history has shown us, that is not always enough. And it will do us ill to be constantly vigilant against our brothers and sisters. I have a number of proposals, each as bleak as the last, but proposals that would ensure the survival of our order, should the worst come to pass. But, to start simply. I believe the Order would benefit most from training. Should new blood find their way to our ranks, so be it. But an army of Masters is a formidable force. Knowledge is the greatest weapon, and is the road to power in all its forms. And should the worst come to pass, the fewer younglings unable to defend themselves, the more of us that shall ultimately survive an attempted culling."
 
"It is well a number gathered here have been recognized for their achievements, for their wisdom, and for their sacrifices." A green eye turned up and over at Rience after her congratulatory remark. His reorganization did not elicit excitement as others might sense. She understood its purposes and could not fault him for it, but the Nightmother would have preferred the Mandragora assuming greater authority rather than less. Vytal, herself, sought every scrap of knowledge or technology that might strengthen her home, after all... even if she wasn't entirely sure how with the Sith Lords and their vaulted 'lordship' over Dathomir. Nevertheless, the Mandragora would instruct people how to open their eyes to the world around them. Combat to defend one self certainly, but they were not a branch devoted to such things even if their Nightmother would gladly skewer her enemies on a pike.

"Tis no small feat when many become one," Vytal replied after Voph had spoken. "With enough trained in the ways of Magick -- or the Force -- you could quite literally move planets." Not that she would recommend a waste of such power. Why would you ever need to move a planet to begin with? No matter. The point stood that there was little Witches, Warlocks, or whatever someone chose to call themselves could do if they worked in harmony with their Sisters and Brothers. "Such strength only comes from devotion to one's craft and to each other. Doubt. Uncertainty. Fear. These are things that can break the mightiest warrior much as a humble river carves a mountain in twain given time. If we cannot trust one another, all is lost."

Vytal knew in matters like these she was a walking contradiction to an outsider's preconceptions. A Nightsister sharing? That was the purpose of the Mandragora was it not? To uncover the mysteries of existence? And to what end would such knowledge be used? Surely not to adorn a dusty shelf, added to some personal collection and bolstering a single person's waning reason to rise the next morn. Though there may yet be secrets kept for the good of the whole, or of private matters, the Mandragora did share. They were stronger together -- it was that unity that brought the Nightsisters strength, and she expected those present would do the same if they were more than bluster.

"Of this, you can be certain the knowledge of stored in our vaults will survive any cullings," the pale woman's tongue did not like this word, and her eyes glowed with the ire displayed in the Citadel under its 'siege.' "We must take recent events as harbingers of days to come. The enemy tested our responses and ability to weather such matters. They will come at us again with this knowledge, but we will be prepared." The Mandragora had taken note of several things from Apatros; and had not delayed in beginning to act on those lessons. Though by no means were they the only ones that had to benefit, "I will make our preparations available to any here that desires them."

Tag:
Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Kurenai Yumi Kurenai Yumi | Taramaz Laurs | Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris | Kyyrk Kyyrk | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Hisashi | Áine | Darth Metus Darth Metus | Beric Layne Beric Layne
 

Taramaz Arcturus

Guest
T

Taramaz slightly repositioned himself in the seat. He made a note to inform the staff of Castra Obsidia that his chambers needed to be refurnished to accommodate his size, for apparently they did not get the message that the room was for a thirteen foot six man. He doubted the room would have been appropriate sized even before his transformation into a Sean-Olc. The room seemed more accustomed to a five foot three man than Taramaz, who had been well into the six foot margin.

He listened, and watched, intently as the Lord Commander strode into the chamber, and took the seat to the Viceguard Captain's right. He noted several things of small significance to him. The opening of the meeting addressed nothing Taramaz had not already known, or did not deduce. He supposed it was necessary, however, for the less connected, less influential, and less informed individuals within the Knighthood. Taramaz could think of no good situation that would come from the Confederate Defense Force turning on them again, no matter the victor, the Confederacy would be doomed. So vital were both sides of the Confederacy, the Defense Force and the Knighthood, that one could not see the true extent of the loss of one without experiencing it.

A sad thought, yet with the loss of one, there would be the loss of the other. Try as either side might, they would not be able to protect the Confederacy by themselves. To Taramaz, this meeting seemed utterly pointless. It was to prepare for a futile Civil War that may or may not ever happen. However, the train of thought was cut short as the topic of promotions surfaced. It was interrupted in the beginning, however, by the required mourning of a lost Knight who had versed The Sith Empire's Lord of Death, and lost. Such things were best dealt with in the beginning.

Taramaz bowed his head in respect, though he now lacked the physical capacity of grieving, sadness, or loss, like he had lost so many other emotions. It was a fool who did not blend in when one was martyr'd. Of the faces at the table, and in the room, Taramaz recognised two, but knew only one. The next few minutes held little interest to Taramaz. Then his name was mentioned first as receiving a promotion to the second highest position available to a Knight of the Obsidian Order, the rank of Lord Marshal.

The Captain of the Confederate Viceguard offered only a brief nod to accept the unexpected, but not unforeseen, promotion. He subtly knew it was from recommendation, if not the command, of the Vicelord, his brother. The floor was then opened to those assembled in the room, and like all meetings, everybody had something to say, yet little of value to contribute.

Taramaz opened his mouth to speak, his voice ready to command the room as it had commanded so many others. Yet the authoritative boom of his voice was silenced as the Nightmother of the Mandragora spoke. Taramaz sneered at the interruption. Such was the nature of the Nightsisters of Dathomir. For millennia the Nightsisters and the Sean-Olc had held bitter rivalry, smiting each other at every turn. While Taramaz had not been born a full blood Sean-Olc, he still inherited the mistrust and urge to pettily smite a Nightsister as his species was prone to, and as they were, in turn, prone to.

He withheld the urge, however. He doubted these Nightsisters new the name Sean-Olc. As time passed, the Galaxy forgot. It always did. Though he made note to guard his mind much closer when in the presence of a Nightsister, for they were always prying, and they could break open a tiny crack in Beskar with a toothpick if it would provide them with knowledge. When the Nightmother had finished her piece, his voice finally boomed out, commanding silence in all of it's average volume.

"I would advise that the Order of the Knights Obsidian invest into upgrading our arsenal. Our equipment is vastly outdated, fit for a time where our purpose was to enforce Confederate law on those who were untouchable by ordinary Law Enforcement. Our sidearm is a stun gun, and our armour designed to make us undetectable, at the cost of being completely unfit for front line combat that we find ourselves participating so much in now. Gone are the days where our sole purpose is to spy on corrupt politicians, and hunt for artefacts of the Force. Now is the era of blaster pistols, and protective armour."

And as quickly as it had started, the voice had silenced itself, letting the floor open to the other Masters, and Lords Obsidian.
 
The man to greet those seated and begin the meeting was not a familiar face to Kurenai, but she had done her research on the man known as Darth Metus Darth Metus . She could be confident in the mans abilities to lead the knights, her old prejudice against newly elected commanders having long left the veteran solider. As the speech continued the navy haired women kept a composed demeanor. Though the lose of her comrades was heart breaking it was nothing new, in the last 800 years she had seen much death and despair, to the point it no longer had much of an effect on her. Others present were not as lucky... or unlucky, depending on the situation, even if she did not shed the feeling of lose was something relatable.

Her composure only faltered a little once Rience addressed her and the two other masters present, a slightly quizzical look coming over her face for but a brief moment. The offer came as rather sudden, mainly due to her absence in over the last month due to family related matters though such a choice possibly came form her steadfast loyalty over the years and other achievements in service of the CIS. For the time being she remained seated, awaiting, as others took the stage next to address the assembled council, giving a small nod to acknowledge the offer.

Taramaz Laurs , the other member elected to join the Obsidian Lords finished his short but mindful speech, Kurenai using this chance to take the floor. "I would first like to thank Rience and his offer to appoint me and me fellows as Marshals". "Though I may not be very close with my fellow knights I hope such a new position with give me many chances to get to know you all within due time, I also look forward to learning a great deal upon accepting this new responsibly". Her acceptance speech finishing off with a customary Atrisian bow though her time on stage was not over yet.

"As for the current events that have shook the very foundations of our order, though Master Laurs makes a good point I believe preventing battle, like what was experienced on Apatros should be a primary focus". "I believe that the knights should always be one step ahead of our enemies, knowing their steps before they even make them, countering the problem at its source, not waiting for it to happen and simply being prepared as best we are to face it". "Yet, I do realize the order may not have the necessary supplies to perform such actions, but it is still something to consider going forwards".


Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura Beric Layne Beric Layne Áine Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner Lunara Azure Lunara Azure Hisashi
 
It was a close thing. To say that Rience's proclamation...no his offer had come as a surprise would be an understatement, to say the least. The white-haired woman had come close to dropping her wineglass in surprise at the offer, at the opportunity presented. It wasn't just a seat at the master's council, although that was an honour which she'd never thought that might come her way. It was the acclamation of her peers, the other Knights Obsidian gathered around this table. A small wry smile touched the woman's lips as she set the glass down. She'd just been thinking about brotherhood, about the bonds that bound them, that united them. This was one way to do that.

Commiserating over the fallen was another, the comrades they'd lost in the miscommunication on Apatros, the bravery of Naedira Darcrath, that history it established a tradition for the Knights. More than that, it gave them a sense of history, of role models to live upto. Lunara hadn't been here for those events, she hadn't experienced the pain and loss first hand like so many of the others in the room had. Yet, it didn't matter, not in the end.

The sorceress could close her eyes as she bowed her head and feel those spirits in the room, the weight of their gaze and their expectation. 'We died for the Confederacy, we paid the ultimate price. What will you do? What price are you willing to pay?'

A delicate hand came up, pressing against the necklace she wore beneath her dress, pressing the cool metal of the ring against her flesh as she took a breath in. Hold it for just a moment, long enough to calm, long enough to hold the mask and let it go.

Would you be proud of me? I've abandoned our home, our people but...out here amongst the stars I've found a new people, a new brotherhood? Would you ruffle my hair or turn away?

Breathe in and breathe out.

I think you'd have smiled...I think you'd like them.

Crystal blue eyes snapped open as people began to talk again, the opinions and arguments filling the room as she let her lips turn up in a small smile. This, this was more what she was used to, what she'd been trained for. It was funny, the Chruch had always wanted her to sit in council, a task she'd run away from only to end up right back there again.

"I'm honoured beyond words that you would all trust me with this position, with this role and will do my very best to live up to your expectations and those of those who came before."

Lunara inclined her head respectfully at Rience, before her gaze flicked over to to the man who'd just spoken. His entire demeanour seemed cold, distrustful, a look of disdain in his eyes as he surveyed the room. It was something she'd seen so many times before, but still. Glancing down, the woman gestured with one hand, her wineglass floating into the air infront of her.

"While improving our equipment might be important I think you overestimate the importance of the blaster, of armour. In the hands of a properly trained knight anything is a weapon, anything is a shield."

Reaching out to the light that surrounded them Lunara cast her will upon the wineglass, the crystal vessel stretching and shifting before their eyes like a living thing. A dagger, a shield, the crystal shifting and flowing before she let it go, letting it sink back down to the table, left in the form of a mask.

"I think I might need another glass of wine, but I fear that you might be placing too much importance on the protection of armour, of the security provided by a blaster at your hip. The same way the CDF do. What use the armour when it becomes the tomb which we encase you in? What use the blaster when we absorb the energy it throws out when we tear it from your hands to use it against you? The battlefield we fight on is changing, there's no denying that, and we need to adapt. We need our own support structure, we need a base that can fend off the worst thrown at us, a safe haven for the Knights. Armour, weapons, they're important but..."

A pale hand came up, sweeping around the room, gesturing at the gathered figures. The great and powerful of the Knights Obsidian, each one a lodestone in the force, a threat to any they might face.

"In this room alone we have the power to change the weather on a planet, to tear a hole in the very fabric of reality. We're not the CDF, we shouldn't try to emulate them. This isn't the age of the blaster and armour, not for us. Soldiers always look to their weapons, but we have the greater weapon than they do, the greater armour. Don't forget what makes us different from the soldiers who attacked us, don't forget why each Knight alone is a force to be feared and respected and together, a flame that can never be extinguished. Don't try to turn us into something we're not, don't weaken the knights with an over-reliance on weapons that can be turned against them. I don't want to see anyone else die when we could have done something different. Our tools are important, but training to use them, to use the innate skills we have. Surely that's more important? The knights of the past, they had the armour, they had the weapons, but what truly set them apart, what truly made them the titans of the battlefield they were was the constant training they put themselves through. Why not look to the past, learn the lessons offered to us so we never run into a situation we're caught out again?"

 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
Location: Assembly Hall
Wearing: xxx
With: Interaction Open

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Never had Gerwald heard his name spoken in conjunction with Naedira Daracrath. Mention of mourning, and those whose lives had been lost only rang true for one name in Gerwald's mind. He should not have allowed himself to be hyper focused. It was the singularity of devotion which had caused Gerwald to earn any of the reputation which was being heralded by the Lord Commander. Gerwald deserved none of it. He was no master in the force, and yet Darth Metus Darth Metus was inviting him to take a seat among the Master's of the Knights Obsidian. What was he to do? Isn't this the kind of influence the brunette had wanted to see him rise to? Why did it feel so wrong?​
Sith took what they wanted. Naedira would have told him that. She may have liked to dress nice and look glamorous, but deep down the woman was Sith, dark and calculating. Did anyone know her that well, had anyone seen that side of her?​
"If only you could see this.." Gerwald thought as his mind touched the part which used to be connected with Naedira. She had told him the battle meld was simply that, a meld, that there would be no lasting impact, but then again how could she have known that there would be? It was not something he had expected to happen, nor did he expect the feelings to develop which had, but the Wolf of Stewjon had finally found someone that accepted him for who he was without wanting anything in return. He needed to take the seat, if only for the sake of everything Naedira believed he could be.​
Gerwald first looked to Alkor, recalling their last conversation.​
"I will take the seat," he said looking to the Lord Commander, "though my stupidity in chasing after the Mountain does not warrant this," he finished as he pointed to the chair, then sat in it.​
He listened to what the others said about ensuring the CDF would never be able to turn on the Knights Obsidian. A smirk pulled at the wolf's mouth as he had one simple thought which would solve the matter entirely. Oh, none of the others in the room would dare even entertain the idea which danced across his mind, but it was by far the most sure and permanent solution.​
Lunara Azure Lunara Azure spoke sense. Everyone focused on armor, but she spoke of power. Gerwald nodded as he waited for his turn to speak. It seemed these meetings were ones where those who wanted to just jumped in. A small curse was let out inside. This was the price of being seen as a leader even though everything Gerwald had ever done was a simple reaction. Perhaps that was what leadership was, reacting and doing what others would not, or could not, do. There was only point of contention Gerwald wished to voice.​
"Training did not keep Naedira alive, nor did it keep the Mountain from manipulating me and leaving me for dead. No we need to break past the rigors of our training and teach our young to be something more. If we are worried about rogue CDF, then we should simply kill them all."
 
Alkor sat quietly as the others spoke, and when Darth Metus Darth Metus offered him the position of Obsidian Lord once more, things became still for a moment. His icy gaze set on the Lord Commander, and while he asked no questions, his response spoke volumes. Again?

The Dark Jedi shook his head and remained sequestered away in his seat while others accepted their honors and accolades. Until at last, Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner spoke. Among all of them, the man who had been cowed found wisdom in his fall.

"The mandate of the Knights Obsidian has ever been to rout internal corruption, threats from outside the Confederacy and from within," he said at last. "If we view the Defense Force as broken and in need of balancing, we need only take initiative to put them to question. That is well within the scope of our duties."

His arms folded and he sat back. "The fear in this chamber is palpable. Uncertainty about the past, indecision about the future. We worry over enemies on all sides, and jump at shadows. We exist in this moment. The selves we left in the past are gone, and their actions, their choices, their thoughts are unreachable now.

We have only what is left over. Using the knowledge we have gained, and the wisdom, before us waits a crossroads." He pointed to the Lord Commander, and to the others in turn. Obsidian Lords ascended and Masters alike. "Actions spurred by fear are quick, sloppy, not precise. If we are to make changes within the Knighthood, let them be made after thorough discussion and not simply tabled the instant neophytes rise to power. Learn, grow, and then play at making decisions."

He turned his gaze out toward the rain over Roon's plains. It was an honor he did not want, nor did he feel that it was deserved. Perhaps later- not in front of the group- he would speak to Rience in confidence on the matter.
 
Location: Castra Obsidia, Roon
Attire: Asheran Armorweave | VT-Kinetic Impact Gel | Service Dress Uniform
Equipment/Armament: Lightsaber | Prosthetic Arm
Flying: T-77 "Talon" Stealth Interceptor

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The events of Apatros had left a sour taste in the mouths of many throughout the Confederacy. Citizens from member systems of the southern superpower had been dealt a nasty blow from all walks of life when the unthinkable occurred. When its own members . . . instead of turning their attention toward the foreign threats that abounded throughout the galaxy, instead turned their sites inward towards the domestic variety. When one branch of the Confederacy lashed out against another. There was no excuse for such behavior, but as would would often have it, the fate of the many found itself laid upon the hands of the few. Where inwardly, any man or woman the had been brave enough to speak the oath and bear the uniform that signified themselves an honorable member of the Confederate Defense Force would testify openly and devoutly that what tragedy had taken place had not been a reflection of the larger institution. But it seemed that the outside would routinely find itself blind to such a concept. Too often in the this galaxy, the actions of the few defined the many, even when no such support was levied behind them.

Such was life. Such was the simple-mindedness of man.

The activities here on the surfaces of Roon, and the gathering of the assembly here, had not passed unnoticed by the High Marshal whose area of responsibility and jurisdiction included the planet as the Commander of the Core Armada under the Confederacy Defense Force's Naval Command. And just as the event of days past raised uneasy tension among the Confederacy's brotherhood of Force sensitives in the renowned Knights Obsidian, it, too, stirred the air with uneasy conviction among the ranks of the Southern Systems' military elite. The utter travesty that such heinous acts of treason could be committed by one that had been trusted in enough to down the meritorious rank of Fleet Marshal. But what it had proven to be more than anything else, was an eye opener. That the gravest of crimes could spawn from the least likely of figures.


And perhaps that is why Alden had found himself in this very situation. Found himself descending upon a world, bound from a group who held a dissuasive tension in regards to the very command he represented.

There had been no invitation extended to anyone within the military's ranks for any attendance here, but when confirmation came through that the order's very own Lord Commander had submitted and been approved his authorization and clearance to traverse his way to the planet's surface. If such corruption still remained within the ranks of the Confederacy, it was in the mandate of both, the Confederate Defense Force and the Knights Obsidian, to seek it out and abolish it. Left unchecked, such corruption would fester and spread until it infected all on the Confederacy and brought her to her knees.

Alas, this is exactly where the High Marshal found himself. Caught amid a bit feud set to erupt into a brazen conflict if nothing would be done quell the disturbance before it could properly entrench itself.

As he came about the building where the Knights Obsidian would have assembled, a stronghold of the order itself, Alden found himself running through a number of simple mental exercises and putting to rest any mental reservations he might possess. Such things would have no place here as there was no irrefutable way to declare has exactly his intrusion would be taken. And just what the risk might be upon his own livelihood when there had been hearsay to indicate hushed signs of paranoia and distrust toward the military since the betrayal on Apatros.

Moments later, the High Marshal brushed his hands across the starched creases of his pants, straightening in folds that may have existed, before placing them upon the door and pushing it open.

What actions would occur next would be dependent on how his intrusion would be received by the assembled. But Alden knew his intentions in being here and he needed the Knighthood's help if they were to be seen through properly. And for that to happen, old bonds would need to be reforged and bridges built.
 
Location: Castra Obsidia - Roon
Tag: Áine | Hisashi | Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris | Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Beric Layne Beric Layne | Kurenai Yumi Kurenai Yumi | Kyyrk Kyyrk | Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura | Luca Donskoi Luca Donskoi | Taramaz Laurs


Of course there was respect for the fallen.

Silence. A bowing of heads. Kind and respectful words in memorium of the one honored. Moreover, the sanctity of the moment was furthered by the elevation of those well deserving. Each took their place. As Masters. As Obsidian Lords. And together, they could shape the future of their order. With the Lord Commander's question now posed, he listened intently to what his peers said in response. And even closer to that which they did not.

Kyyrk Kyyrk suggested a practical response. He had fail-safes in mind, but ultimately his focus was on internal cultivation. Make certain that each member of the Knighthood could hold their own. Good.

Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura , the Nightmother, spoke of plans she had laid. Plans that would see their knowledge and their ways safeguarded against any cullings.

Taramaz Laurs spoke of bringing their Arsenal into the modern era.

Kurenai Yumi Kurenai Yumi , ever the Pathfinder, spoke of remaining one step ahead of their enemies. Preventing a confrontation before it started was indeed a valuable perspective.

Lunara Azure Lunara Azure focused on a different angle. While a modern arsenal was surely important, they were a gathering of some of the Galaxy's most powerful Force wielders. This was their asset, was it not?

Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner was honest about his failures. And about the failures of training in keeping the now honored alive. His approach was simple - kill them.

Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris ...spoke of the fear. And yes, there was indeed fear. Uncertainty. The question loomed about the future over each of their heads. Though there was indeed corruption at the root of the matter - corruption that was weeded out - Apatros still had revealed a painful reality. Whether CDF or otherwise, the Knighthood was not prepared for an attack on Apatros. They were caught off-guard completely.

Rience drew a steady breath and leaned back in his seat. One leg crossed over the other. Fingers steepled as he digested the thoughts of his peers. So many suggestions. So many branches sprouted from this Obsidian tree...

But together, they would chart the path.

"You have all raised excellent points. And valid concerns." he began. "Ultimately. Apatros revealed that we were not ready for an assault of that scale. We have fought many battles, yes. From Eshan to Taanab and every excursion in-between. But never have we been assaulted on our own ground. Outnumbered as we were."

He leaned forward slightly, his hands moving as if to illustrate his thoughts. "Whether it be the Confederate Defense Force - or any army for that matter - the Knighthood must stand ready. We must ensure that we are capable of surviving the worst. And to do so, we must consider all of the assets we have available." His attention shifted to that of the Nightmother, Alkor, and Voph for but a moment.

"Of the suggestions, I find myself agreeing with Master Azure firstly. We possess many talents in the Force. And as I think of our population versus millions of droids, something comes to mind. I'm not expert on matters of this alignment, but, Masters Voph, Centaris, and Nightmother Noctura...what of Sithspawn? Can we cultivate a means to bolster our numbers that way?"

He then looked to the others who had spoken. His gaze sweeping one to the other. "Moreover. Speak to me of training. How do you all envision educating our midst? And, on the subject of our arsenal, I agree that we should at least be up-to-date. It wouldn't do to enter the battlefield less armed than the opposition - even if our true weapons are vastly different. When it comes to the armory, do we wish to stay in house? Or are their corporations we can trust? What say you all?"

- - - - -​

The Core Armada was not the only one watching.

While currently lacking in the same naval might as the various Armadas, the Knighthood had an awareness of what laid on their doorstep. Thus, as their headquarters was met with an unexpected visitor - one from the Confederate Defense Force no less - those outside and about the grounds stiffened. They heard the reports, of course. Knew that a Fleet Marshal had been compromised. But, they had also heard the casualties. Survived the battle. The air was uneasy as the Alden approached.

Upon nearing the towering doors leading inside, a duo of Knights would move their staves. Entry was barred behind them. And one spoke - briefly yet firmly. "State your business."

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