Private Beyond their Time

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

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

Khar Shian; Ancient Fortress of Naga Sadow


The Shaper drew in a slow, deep breathe as he knelt upon Khar Shian, his eyes shut for there was no light here for them to perceive. The glow of the Whilstones the only source of light for miles upon miles. The Evolution say above, the crew kept busy scouring the wreckage of an ancient imperial space station while The Shaper's interests lie in the far, far more ancient remnant of the true fortress of Naga Sadow. The ancient Sith Lord, well ancient compared to the rest of the galaxy, was known from what Shaper could discern from Sith texts to appear to many in the form of a spirit. Still possessing enough individuality and power within the Netherworld of the Force to project himself to Sith throughout the ages. Even after training and being physically killed by Freedon Nadd. Who himself, The Shaper believed, was also not nearly as gone as it seemed.

Nevertheless efforts to extort a reaction from Sadow's spirit in his tomb on Korriban had proven fruitless, as it seemed he had never appeared to anyone there, nor was he actually set to rest there. No. For what he had in mind The Shaper had needed to find somewhere his spirit would be truly connected to. Possess a longing to return to. Yavin 4 had yielded similar results. Ultimately it made sense to The Shaper, in hindsight, that ever the warlord Sadow's spirit would find the most attachment and solace in the place wherein he had broken his most hated rival. Even stepping foot on Khar Shian had affirmed this feeling, but also, perplexed him. For on the moon's shadowed side The Shaper could feel two entities nearly as old as himself. Emanating the Dark Side, emanating power, and he titled his head in idle curiosity as the Sith troopers fanned out from the landing shuttle and began to establish something resembling a perimeter on this desolate, inhospitable moon.

Drawing Urfael from it's scabbard and alighting it's blade with pallid, green light did The Shaper approach the ancient fortress, marveling at it's construction with something approaching respect and satisfaction. The generations after him, at least, had retained some of their ancient mastery. Climbing the crumbling, dilapidated stone steps did The Shaper cast his senses further within. The writhing, unnatural presence of uncaged, feral sithspawn drawing a sigh from his lips. As useful as they were when trained, made obedient, he was far too focused on his true goal to wish to engage in meaningless bloodshed. Turning his head slightly The Shaper would stalk into the ruins confidently, wondering which of the two other ancient entities would approach him first.

Sabine Delacroix

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Location: Khar Shian - The heart of the ruin
TAG: Arctus Silmar

How long had she been on Khar Shian now? Her concept of time was already different from most of the galaxy but when she became involved in exploring a ruin or studying an artifact time seemed to cease moving to her and become a singular focus. There was a central chamber deep underground that had survived the millennia despite looters and the decay of time it was this room that Sabine found herself around she had setup several 'tables' that were little more than large slabs of stone stacked upon others.

Each of these tables had a multitude of items from all over the tomb upon them, each one neatly categorized and catalogued though none held the answer to the remaining puzzle. Turning on her heel she started back to the final chamber that had not fully collapsed. Sabine had of course felt the arrival of another force user upon this dead world. Both of their coming to this world likely had already set events in motion as one did not lightly tread even in the ruins of a stronghold of a Sith Lord. For her part she had already disabled more than half a dozen traps to make it as far as she had, unfortunately for her that meant that the one that followed her had easy access, but such was the way of things.

The white haired woman come to a stop a short distance from what looked to be a solid wall and stood in the pitch blackness of the fortress. Her eyes glowing a bright blue as they studied the ancient Sith markings on what she believed to be a doorway to the last remaining room that had withstood the bombings of Ludo Kressh's fleet many thousands of years ago. Her hand traced each of the symbols and she spoke softly to herself in high Sith as she read the inscription to herself, turning it over slowly in her mind. It was close, so very close. The repository of all those works of Naga Sadow that had been lost to history and to his immense collection of artifacts. For the sake of whomever followed she hoped their purpose was different in coming here for their sakes other than this though she was keen to ignore this intrusion.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

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

As The Shaper crossed the threshold of the fortress, pallid light illuminating the darkness for a few meters around him. Ancient runes simmerign along Urfael's length as the snarling and guttural noises of the Sithspawn drew ever closer. Annoyance plucked at the edge of The Shaper's focus, his cheek twitched, and as the Sithspawn approached Mithralian began it's work. The Sithspawn's minds were crushed under the weight of ancient sorcery, their hostile demeanor flooded with an overwhelming, crippling sense of submission. A menagerie of Tuk'ata, Terentatek, and other unspeakable horrors left here long ago quailed and retreated into the darkness they had called home for eons. Spurred there by the one that now made them dance as puppets on strings.

Feeling one of the dark, old presences descend further into the structure The Shaper drew Urfael back before sweeping the blade in a slow strike, the pallid green flame arcing out in a fan and clinging to whatever surface it touched. Acting as a wall of flame to provide more light than the Whilstones passively brought. Striding unharmed through the flames The Shaper idly noted what seemed to have been, moments ago, a concealed passage into the wall. The second dark presence, faint and aloof, had been roused to some sort of ire at the trespass. The ancient dust on the floor, walls and pillars supporting the monolithic structure beginning to swirl and coalesce but the Shaper paid them no mind. He could recognize Sadow's spirit, had recognized it, and he was aware of two additional facts.

The first being that the spirit would not act until it was certain of the capabilities of the intruders and the second was that the other dark presence was fully aware of both the existence of The Shaper and Sadow's shade. After a moment of contemplation did The Shaper dwindle his presence in the Force as best he could, though the Whilstones made this difficult, it was all he could do to make himself seem weaker than the crown he wore. That he was cowering, hiding, under the powerful artifact and did not carry the strength himself. The shade, after a moment, caused the shadows to coalesce closer as The Shaper walked after Sabine Delacroix and pursued her path into the depths of the fortress.

How his fellow ancient Sith responded to his reduced presence, if she even believed it to begin with, he could not say.

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Location: Khar Shian - The heart of the ruin
TAG: Arctus Silmar

Amused. In a word that was her reaction to the other presence's attempt to 'hide'. She continued her study of the writing on the wall but at the same moment a greater darkness began to fill the fortress, with Sabine as its focal point. The force itself was being drawn to her but specifically those sithspawn one by one would simply fall dead as the lifeforce was drained away. By itself it was not that great of a feat but given the distance between the entrance and where she stood it was a bit more poignant, it wasn't a threat so much as a warning.

A gloved hand traced the glyphs once more and a loud clanking sound filled the room as the ancient mechanism disengaged and allowed the door to open. Pressing gently against the door it parted and allowed her entry and what she saw within brought a smile to the ancient sorcerers lips. From wall to wall in a massive alcove writings and manuscripts from Sadaow's hands some of them even pre-dating him no doubt. She set about scouring the shelves forgetting her visitor for the moment but always aware of his location. At a particular section of shelves she found one such spellbook she sought and opened it quickly scanning the pages.

Sated for the moment she turned her attention to her guest reaching out through the force, the one that was approaching was old as she was perhaps moreso. Clearly he was in no hurry despite her being ahead of him as well, this suggested he was no simple tomb raider but rather something else.. It was that else that intrigued her. Perhaps he was here to kill her, unlikely but not out of the realm of possibility.

A spectral flame formed in her right hand and she waved it back in the way that she came, the green ichor of the Nightsisters was unmistakable, she learned much with the witches among the Confederates and now it would serve her. At once various sconces and ancient torches that lined the hallway unneeded by the greater vampirika burst into light from the spectral fire, the bright blue glow of her eyes fading as light began to fill the fortress for the first time in millenia.

Stepping out of the library with a single book in her hands she sat upon a stone slab and quietly read from the book as she awaited her guest. Only daring to read a single sentence aloud.

Ki natura ncûtiw withakiw. Razia shiyi dradzia an sosûtaiyi ki... Ki inzurmurzi tuti rayisadni. Zo diyina, zo chita, zo millennium—it kisasiyina nindz. Nu tsari ri witsiasosûtsa iw tzihra diâ ri waria iw w'ana.

«Spoken in High Sith: My life spans millennia. Legions have risen to test me… My ascendance is inevitable. A day, a year, a millennium—it matters not. I hold the patience of stone and the will of stars.»

She chuckled a bit and shook her head "Yet one of us still lives Tenebre and one of us was erased from existence. I would say you lost." her fingers traced the writing gently as if trying to coax more meaning from the pages.