Xevek Nekonis
From The Shadows
A cloaked figure strode down the length of a fully stone corridor, arms clasped behind his back as he walked the stone floor which was covered with a loose scattering of grains of sand, blown in by the gusts of wind that howled after the cloaked figure, the rage possessed within the sandstorm slowly growing. Even as the howling continued behind him, fists of wind slamming into his back and causing his cloak to billow slight and the grains of individual sand dug into the bared soles of his feet, the figure carried on with his carefully measured strides, calmly carrying himself towards the large, engraved stone double-doors that were set into the rocky walls of the cave, ignoring the sight of the four Iridonian guards that stood at attention outside of the doors. Beneath the folds of his cloak, feint sparks could be seen as carefully sharpened claws scrapped upon the aged stone.
As he approached, the guards drew themselves erect, blades ringing as they were drawn from sheaths and leveled within the figure's direction. Still, he did not slow. "Halt." The word was barked out in, to a Basic speaker, what would be a mix of growls and harsh, enunciated syllables. Still, the figure did not slow. Looking amongst themselves, two of the guards charged forwards, blades swinging through the air, singing as they went. However, with a simple raised hand, the movement of the guards began to slow before it halted all together. Unseen to the guards, the ethereal power that was the Force had seeped into their bodies though a Dark poison implanted within their Presences within the Force, the chemicals within their synapses, chemicals which carried electrical impulses from one end of the synapse to another, where slowed, meaning that while the process of passing on the neural impulses, that time was now stretched to a near eternity for the guards, the thoughts halted and bodies unable to move without the neurological commands. The only commands still working were the commands for the heart to beat and the lungs to breath, to ensure the guards' continued survival.
However, the two remaining guards knew none of that and chose, also, to charge at the steadily advancing figure before, they too, met the same fate. Picking his way around the statue like forms that were once the guards, the figure raised a hand and push on a level above the physical plane.
The two heavy double doors would swing open with speed, slamming against the stone walls on either side and causing all silence within the chamber beyond to cease and pair after pair of eyes to swivel directly to the now open doorway and the figure passing through. Even then, the figure did nothing other than walk forwards at a fast but measured pace, hands once more clasped behind his back. Coming to a stop on a center dais, the figure looked from one group of gathered Zabrak to another, matching faces to remembered names. Clans Ketmel, Zelmen, Cazeth, Mezka, Izreth, Zoktek, Kilkel, Meyrel, Azmez and Telkek were in attendance as they should be, each group comprising of the Clan Matriarch, Elders and Advisors, each one staring down at the figure from the semi-circle arranged, raised seats that they sat in. To the figure's immediate left were the group of Otherworld Visitors, those from Offworld Clans held in enough prestige to attend the Matriarch Council Gathering. To the figure's immediate right was an empty set of seat, those that belonged to the near extinct Clan Uigin.
Slowly, the figure would reach up, revealing one arm to by made out of a dull, black metal as the cloak would fall away from his arms. Pulling back the hood that obscured his face in shadows, the figure stared from Clan to Clan once more, this time catching their gazes easily. The figures face was deeply tanned and wind weathered, an array of scars winding their way across his features. In particular the scars were gathered around the right side of his face, remains of whip marks and burns easily visible among the scars caused by a blade. His eyes were a deep, burnt orange, or, they would be, if he did not possess only one eye, the other lost leaving behind a socket covered over with scarred grafts of skin and surrounded by a slightly misshaped face from where shattered bone could not be replaced and the remaining pieces of skull had not been properly set. His hair was a sand grey and pulled back into a series of dreadlocks that were woven around jagged horns and disappeared into the depth of his cloak. This was the face of Xavka Duquo of Clan Uigin.
"Child," the voice of Dret Mezka, Matriarch of Clan Mezka, would sound out into the chamber, her voice as weathered as she looked, "why do you choose to intrude upon the Matriarchs? Speak, or forfeit your life." Slowly, Xavka would nod before speaking, his voice, deep and gravelly, echoing within the now silent chamber.
"You notice, surely, that Clan Uigin does not sit upon its seats. Yet, in the past, in the time of our Ancestors recent and old, they have never permitted themselves to be absent before. Does this not intrigue or confuse you? Does this mean that you were complacent?" Xavka's gaze would flicker from Matriarch to Matriarch once more. "I am Xavka Duquo, High Jath of Clan Uigin. I stand before you with the news that the Clan of Uigin is near dead, near extinct. I come upon our grounds and find women, children and men alike rotting under the glare of the sun. Throats and chest torn asunder by blades of anther Clan!" Xavka's angered shout echoed within the Chamber as he took a deep breath before continuing, his voice much calmer once more.
"Not since the Ages of Blood has a Clan acted against another without the permissions granted by a declared Blood Feud and yet, none has been declared in recent times, or I would have been called to arms. That means that one amongst you, either with or without the blessing of the others, acted in such a manner that you opposed the honoured declarations carved into the foundations of our nomadic lives by our Ancestors. That means that one amongst you is of dishonour, of digrace. That one amongst you have violated the words of those that came before us!"
Xavka's voice, which had been raised into a shout, once more quieted, this time to a near whisper. "Which of you is it? Which of you are the disgraced and dishonoured? Will you speak now? Or let me name you?" Silence reigned within the chamber as Xavka slowly span about, an expression of amusement crossing his features as the silence continued. "You will not confess? You wish for me to speak your names? Or is it that you do not believe that I know who you are, Losh Telkek?" The name was snarled out between clenched teeth as he whirled around to face the aforementioned Matriarch, robes billowing slightly from the suddenness of the move, before his face fell into a calm expression once more.
"You, Clan Telkek, set upon Clan Uigin, ending the lives of warriors and healer, men, women and children alike with no regard to the Words Once Spoken on this very spot that ensured our people's continued survival. The ensured that we would not tear one another apart. Words sealed in Honour and Blood, the foundations of Iridonia itself, lay down before even the first covering of sand emerged. You committed the Sin Against Blood for while every body that lays beneath the Sun now bears the names Uigin, I know that some I personally buried and read the Rites for were of Telkek Blood. Kin Killers, Oath Breaks, Those Without Honour. Cowards for avoiding the Feuds. That is what you are."
With the ring of metal against metal, the hidden blade within Xavka's cybernetic arm slide forwards. However, instead of striking at the Clan Heads, the blade was pressed against his biological palm until blood began to drip onto the stone beneath his feet. "I shall do what you were to cowardly to do. I so take upon myself the mantle of Patriarch of Uigin, claiming the Title not used since the Blood Ages where Matriarchs passed in fields of battle without successors. I take upon the duty of rebirth and creating the Clan of Uigin. I take upon me the burden of leadership. I spill blood of my own before yourselves and the Ancestors to stake this ancient claim. I am now Xavka Uigin, of the Family Duquo of Clan Uigin, High Jath and Patriarch of the surviving Blood. And I, Patriarch Uigin, do rebirth the Clan into Clan Rakama and do declare that I, Xavka Rakama, of Family Duquo of the Clan Rakama, Formerly Uigin, swear upon and Oath of Blood to enact a Blood Feud between the Clans Telkek and Rakama, Formerly Uigin!"
As he approached, the guards drew themselves erect, blades ringing as they were drawn from sheaths and leveled within the figure's direction. Still, he did not slow. "Halt." The word was barked out in, to a Basic speaker, what would be a mix of growls and harsh, enunciated syllables. Still, the figure did not slow. Looking amongst themselves, two of the guards charged forwards, blades swinging through the air, singing as they went. However, with a simple raised hand, the movement of the guards began to slow before it halted all together. Unseen to the guards, the ethereal power that was the Force had seeped into their bodies though a Dark poison implanted within their Presences within the Force, the chemicals within their synapses, chemicals which carried electrical impulses from one end of the synapse to another, where slowed, meaning that while the process of passing on the neural impulses, that time was now stretched to a near eternity for the guards, the thoughts halted and bodies unable to move without the neurological commands. The only commands still working were the commands for the heart to beat and the lungs to breath, to ensure the guards' continued survival.
However, the two remaining guards knew none of that and chose, also, to charge at the steadily advancing figure before, they too, met the same fate. Picking his way around the statue like forms that were once the guards, the figure raised a hand and push on a level above the physical plane.
The two heavy double doors would swing open with speed, slamming against the stone walls on either side and causing all silence within the chamber beyond to cease and pair after pair of eyes to swivel directly to the now open doorway and the figure passing through. Even then, the figure did nothing other than walk forwards at a fast but measured pace, hands once more clasped behind his back. Coming to a stop on a center dais, the figure looked from one group of gathered Zabrak to another, matching faces to remembered names. Clans Ketmel, Zelmen, Cazeth, Mezka, Izreth, Zoktek, Kilkel, Meyrel, Azmez and Telkek were in attendance as they should be, each group comprising of the Clan Matriarch, Elders and Advisors, each one staring down at the figure from the semi-circle arranged, raised seats that they sat in. To the figure's immediate left were the group of Otherworld Visitors, those from Offworld Clans held in enough prestige to attend the Matriarch Council Gathering. To the figure's immediate right was an empty set of seat, those that belonged to the near extinct Clan Uigin.
Slowly, the figure would reach up, revealing one arm to by made out of a dull, black metal as the cloak would fall away from his arms. Pulling back the hood that obscured his face in shadows, the figure stared from Clan to Clan once more, this time catching their gazes easily. The figures face was deeply tanned and wind weathered, an array of scars winding their way across his features. In particular the scars were gathered around the right side of his face, remains of whip marks and burns easily visible among the scars caused by a blade. His eyes were a deep, burnt orange, or, they would be, if he did not possess only one eye, the other lost leaving behind a socket covered over with scarred grafts of skin and surrounded by a slightly misshaped face from where shattered bone could not be replaced and the remaining pieces of skull had not been properly set. His hair was a sand grey and pulled back into a series of dreadlocks that were woven around jagged horns and disappeared into the depth of his cloak. This was the face of Xavka Duquo of Clan Uigin.
"Child," the voice of Dret Mezka, Matriarch of Clan Mezka, would sound out into the chamber, her voice as weathered as she looked, "why do you choose to intrude upon the Matriarchs? Speak, or forfeit your life." Slowly, Xavka would nod before speaking, his voice, deep and gravelly, echoing within the now silent chamber.
"You notice, surely, that Clan Uigin does not sit upon its seats. Yet, in the past, in the time of our Ancestors recent and old, they have never permitted themselves to be absent before. Does this not intrigue or confuse you? Does this mean that you were complacent?" Xavka's gaze would flicker from Matriarch to Matriarch once more. "I am Xavka Duquo, High Jath of Clan Uigin. I stand before you with the news that the Clan of Uigin is near dead, near extinct. I come upon our grounds and find women, children and men alike rotting under the glare of the sun. Throats and chest torn asunder by blades of anther Clan!" Xavka's angered shout echoed within the Chamber as he took a deep breath before continuing, his voice much calmer once more.
"Not since the Ages of Blood has a Clan acted against another without the permissions granted by a declared Blood Feud and yet, none has been declared in recent times, or I would have been called to arms. That means that one amongst you, either with or without the blessing of the others, acted in such a manner that you opposed the honoured declarations carved into the foundations of our nomadic lives by our Ancestors. That means that one amongst you is of dishonour, of digrace. That one amongst you have violated the words of those that came before us!"
Xavka's voice, which had been raised into a shout, once more quieted, this time to a near whisper. "Which of you is it? Which of you are the disgraced and dishonoured? Will you speak now? Or let me name you?" Silence reigned within the chamber as Xavka slowly span about, an expression of amusement crossing his features as the silence continued. "You will not confess? You wish for me to speak your names? Or is it that you do not believe that I know who you are, Losh Telkek?" The name was snarled out between clenched teeth as he whirled around to face the aforementioned Matriarch, robes billowing slightly from the suddenness of the move, before his face fell into a calm expression once more.
"You, Clan Telkek, set upon Clan Uigin, ending the lives of warriors and healer, men, women and children alike with no regard to the Words Once Spoken on this very spot that ensured our people's continued survival. The ensured that we would not tear one another apart. Words sealed in Honour and Blood, the foundations of Iridonia itself, lay down before even the first covering of sand emerged. You committed the Sin Against Blood for while every body that lays beneath the Sun now bears the names Uigin, I know that some I personally buried and read the Rites for were of Telkek Blood. Kin Killers, Oath Breaks, Those Without Honour. Cowards for avoiding the Feuds. That is what you are."
With the ring of metal against metal, the hidden blade within Xavka's cybernetic arm slide forwards. However, instead of striking at the Clan Heads, the blade was pressed against his biological palm until blood began to drip onto the stone beneath his feet. "I shall do what you were to cowardly to do. I so take upon myself the mantle of Patriarch of Uigin, claiming the Title not used since the Blood Ages where Matriarchs passed in fields of battle without successors. I take upon the duty of rebirth and creating the Clan of Uigin. I take upon me the burden of leadership. I spill blood of my own before yourselves and the Ancestors to stake this ancient claim. I am now Xavka Uigin, of the Family Duquo of Clan Uigin, High Jath and Patriarch of the surviving Blood. And I, Patriarch Uigin, do rebirth the Clan into Clan Rakama and do declare that I, Xavka Rakama, of Family Duquo of the Clan Rakama, Formerly Uigin, swear upon and Oath of Blood to enact a Blood Feud between the Clans Telkek and Rakama, Formerly Uigin!"