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Public Blood of the Lorekeepers

The Confessor

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Korriban, Day Time
Wreckages of Tombs

The sounds of the sand slowly pushing against craters and destroyed pillars could be heard and even felt from all around those who walked along the old valley. Failed attempts to purge the world multiple times, attempts to destroy all that was great and those who attempted to convert its very sanctuary. The Pure-blooded Sith stood staring outwards towards one of the old tombs, the tomb known as Momin, a crazed individual whom created a Force Mask to take over others bodies after his own death, reviving himself time and time again. Insane, crazy yet there was purpose for every single thing that was done. The being, known only now as the Confessor after his own takeover of this body, had now been considered one of the last of his kind. Death and despair plague each step of their existence, that of their own line, the Lorekeeper Line. Assassins have attempted to reduce what was left into near nothing, most of Jegy Sesara Jegy Sesara line has perished and all current members have been killed. All but two...and one stood before this very spot, overlooking the Momin tomb.

The reason why he stood here, was to ensure the very nature of their existence was protected. He had encrypted messages hidden in tombs all across the galaxy, those who seeked better knowledge, power and abilities in the Force. The messages once decoded was simple, if one wishes to gain more power than before, more knowledge they can withstand or even be part of something more, all they had to do was meet at Korriban, in front of the Momin tomb on a particular date. Some may gotten it months ago, others would have gotten it in mere weeks or days leading up to it. With the sun beating down on his face, he slowly turned as he carries on his hips three one liter holders of red and black liquid, things that had occurred not so long ago and kept contained all this time to ensure a better future.

Now all the Confessor do was wait, and see who was to show up. He only had enough for three people...and he wondered who would show up first.


(This thread is to allow up to three other roleplayers to join a bloodline I established over fifteen years ago. This is mainly for Force Sensitives though Non-Force Sensitives can be welcomed and become one with the Force. There are advantages and disadvantages joining this bloodline, hence why the Lorekeeper Line is linked. If joined, you will be added to the Lorekeeper Line Lore. This is entirely up to you or simply meet to discuss philosphy. Either way, enjoy and have fun if you wish to join in! Please no bounty collections or threats to take the vials, that will not end well.)

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Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
The Confessor

As a rule, Jerec hated tombs. He did, however, enjoy working as a fence for people who enjoyed tombs, especially when they didn't know what they had. This particular tomb raider, a louse-infested Jawa, had sold Jerec the hidden message for peanuts.

If not for his time learning from Jegy Sesara — the only serious Force trainer he'd ever had, come to think of it — Jerec might have missed the message's value too. Thanks to all of the above, here he was, at the right place and time to hope for something interesting.

The Confessor — lean, trim, red-skinned — kind of liked like a Zeltron. That sparked a whole other kind of interest.

"Evening," said Jerec, who had just landed and wasn't actually sure what time it was. "Plan on sharing those bottles? It's been a long dry road."
 

The Confessor

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Tag: Jerec Asyr Jerec Asyr

A familiar sound rang through the arid air, slowly glancing upwards as the Ithorians words spoke to him. It took him several moments but slowly it finally dawned on him who it was, Jerec Asyr. Asking for one of the bottles, he merely stood there for several seconds as the sand passed them on by as he carefully pulled out a canteen for the Ithorian to drink, speaking gently as he could, trying to not have his voice break.

"You are the last person I ever imagined to run into out here...Jerec, things have happened since we last met. You...probably do not remember me very well and rightfully so due to my...changed appearance. But I think it is wise for you to sit down...something happened to Jegy."

With that, slowly the Sith turned and walked over towards some of the ruined steps and slowly sat down, rubbing part of his tendrils on his chin. The Sith was dressed in a fashion that mimicked Jegy Sesaras own wardrobe, some of it having rubbed off on him as his style was rather unique and his robes kept in near perfect condition. Glancing at the Ithorian, he wanted for him to sit down or not before speaking, breathing out before trying to explain what occurred since a year had passed.

"Jerec...Jegy Sesara was killed a year ago on this planet we are standing on. He sought to find one of the Scepters to support the Ashlan Crusade in their effort to destroy this planet...his son Crane decided that was the worst option and saw his father lost in their ideology. It was a chance meeting and...Crane killed his father. He is about eight hundred feet below the sands, seven kilometers from here, buried under twelve metric tons of stone and sand. I know it is a bit shocking but...I don't know how to put it any other way."

"Since his death, a lot has occurred. Members of the Lorekeepers that Jegy kept in line, left and joined with other Force Cults but to my knowledge, every single one of them is now dead, we are being hunted down. His wife Sun is missing, the Temple is in ruins. Her disappearance was about eight months ago and the last kill on a Lorekeeper was about four months ago. I cannot find where Crane has decided to hide, nor communicate with him as far as I know, me and him are the last ones left alive. I have reason to believe Echo walks the galaxy again, there is only so many reasons I can think of with our numbers done to near nothing."

"The reason why I am here and had those encrypted messages, is that we are facing extinction. With only two left in existence, one being unable to be reached, I made the decision to try and pass on our blood to those who wish to have it. The Galaxy will always be in constant turmoil...and if the Byrn'adul show up again, if Empires that sought complete and utter destruction to everything around them were to rise again...there should always be one of us ready to fight back. We never had a good track record but...I don't know what other choice is left. The bottles around my waist, are the blood of Lorekeepers. One is an archeologist, I was to late to save him. Others I was able to get to the morgue in time to collect them before they spoiled. Ingesting the blood will give...who we are, to the person who consumes it. There is enough for three...maybe four."

"I know Jegy held high regards to who you were, regardless of whatever you did in your lifetime. He believed you were a good person...he considered you the apprentice he never truly had. Usually when he dies, he gets back to us in a few months but...not this time. If he returns, he is going to probably be way different than he usually looks and I doubt that may happen. Jerec, it is only fitting for you to own his workshop on Tatooine, it has a lot of his lightsaber crystals, songsteel...his tools to create lightsabers. I think he would appreciate it, knowing yourself being a wizard at this kind of stuff."


He let the words hang as he looked down, not really knowing what else to say. He spoke of everything that he could think of and just let the words hang in the air. It was not much to point fingers towards but now, things have changed.







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Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
"Shavvit, Jegy's dead?" A fifty-metre statue had stood here once, depicting either Momin or some other Sith Lord. Now only a foot remained. Jerec sat down heavily on the toe.

"Spent the past three years on a prison planet," he explained. "Not the most, uh, spiritually sensitive environment. I worried about Jegy, even wondered if there was more to it than just worry. That old bastard was indestructible. Shavvit." Sadness prickled in Jerec's neckgills and also his eyes. "And of course he'd go out trying to blow up fething Korriban."


Jerec had never felt more than passing interest in taking on the Lorekeeper curse and legacy. Same went for Joining A Force Order and all that nonsense. But the Lorekeeper bloodline, if that was the right word, had meant an awful lot to the old Sullustan. Jerec wracked his brain, trying to remember what the whole mess entailed.

"So let's see. The Lorekeepers are being hunted to extinction. That's blood, and drinking it would make me, uh, easier to find in the Force, weaker to life draining, stronger overall, can't have kids except in that whole weird interspecies way...help me out here, I'm going blank.

"Also, bud...do we know each other?"

The Confessor
 

The Confessor

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Tag: Jerec Asyr Jerec Asyr

He let the blow kindof hang as he looked towards the Ithorian. Course it stun, how could it not? Though the humorous take of Jegy actually attempting to destroy Korriban did even get the Sith to give a chuckle before smiling a little.

"Yeah, leave it to him to try the impossible."

Then came the question, what did it all entail? Who was he really? Looking up, he breathed in then back out as he tried to explain the consequences of doing this.

"Lorekeepers are being hunted to extinction, those who have the current genetics...I think through this, it be bypassing it. Easier to find in the Force, makes your powers...triple after a bit of time, generally access some form of power in the Force, generally in a masterful way. Can get a bit more of a temper but if you got good control, it almost never effects us and yes, Force Drain does do a lot worse on us but due to how we thrive in it. Technically we age slower but not all of us, just some. Yes, we are infertile to our own species save for everyone else...I blame myself for that one."

Letting that hang in the air for a moment, he slowly stood up as he explained that part along with who he was.

"Yes, I am Renair Naki , we met once or twice just...I was human, not Sith. I...was killed somewhat in a battle before Jegys, Metamorphosis apparently what I ended up with and a bit of a...second personality in my mind. We have almost completely joined together, the first Lorekeeper freed me from the hell that was the Netherworld. Kronos...lives inside me, the creator. We had a lot of discussions and we...technically made it a joint decision. He made this choice for his wife whom he could not have a child with, he did a lot to give her the chance and now, it became what Jegy called a Curse, but we believed was a Blessing in the end."

"I do not expect you to take the blood Jerec. It is a lot of responsibility and with who you are, I do not think it may even be wise to do this. I am sitting here, waiting for those who sought and seek hard to achieve more, become more in this galaxy or perhaps, the one person wishing to create a child with another that physically has no true ability. Either way...I think he be proud of you, knowing all that has happened to you, Lorekeeper or not."



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Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
"See, I can't tell if you're trying to give me an easy out or pull some reverse psychology." Jerec scratched his underneck. "How long's the blood good for? None of this shavvit is a big deal to me, but it's not something to jump into on a whim, right? Yeah."

Yeah. But he still felt the need to do...something...to commemorate Jegy or work toward what had mattered to the old bastard. Might help to chew it over at the Dantooine bunker where they'd trained, one of Jegy's junk drawers. Between that and the Tatooine site and whatever else Jegy had squirreled away in eight hundred years, just cataloging it all could be the work of a lifetime.

But that didn't feel like the right path any more than taking the curse on a whim. Or scavenging it all, come to think of it. Force knew he could use the creds, but no.

Which left Jerec without obvious options.

He gestured at the tomb. "I ran a search on the coordinates through some sketchy places. Who was this Momin guy? Inventor, right?"

The Confessor
 

The Confessor

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Tag: Jerec Asyr Jerec Asyr

"Not using Reverse Psychology nonsense, I don't think it be wise for you to have it. They are good for about another two weeks and afterwards...I may end up just handing it to people that need transfusions. It works for just about any blood type."

Standing up, he had collected a bit of Jegys items but had long since stopped, he had many stashes over different planets as he spoke it out loud.

"Darth Momin, a place where a mask controls the wearer and yes, a rather famous inventor in his own right before the Force. Damning as it is, Jegy noted it several times in his research six hundred years ago. It held some form of significance but I do not know why. He may wanted to delve into it some day...maybe he had another purpose, who knows. I looked into it twice and found nothing special though...I am not much of an avid explorer and those that waged war recently made it harder to go through. Best I know of his locations...Dantooine, Tatooine, Chad IV, and Coruscant."



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Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
The Confessor

Jerec nodded heavily. "Sounds about right. That's all folks like us leave behind: Outer Rim boltholes, potential salvage, and secrets that never went anywhere."

He got up from the huge stone toe and dusted off his butt.

"Any chance you could spring for fuel? Cost me a metric fethton to get this far down the Daragon Trail."
 

The Confessor

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Tag: Jerec Asyr Jerec Asyr

"Yeah, I can imagine it. We apparently like our secrets well hidden huh? So far...seems to be the ass of the galaxy. As for fuel, yeah hang on. Give you two grand."

Pulling out his credit stick, he was still a noble and still got quite a bit of funding. Being...bonded with another Sith showed many ways to keep profiting and keeping a good lifestyle. Handing over the partial stick, it contained two thousand credits as he remained sitting on the steps, sighing out as he looked around for others.

"See you around, just watch yourself. This galaxy...is getting worse by the day."

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Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
Jerec pocketed the cash gratefully. Two thousand would cover the fuel just fine. Heck, if New Dreshdae was still standing, maybe he could snag some grilled 'tek with pelko sauce.

"Much obliged, brother," he said. And as he turned to leave—

"Considered putting that blood in stasis? Proper temporal distortion field? Might be the right person's ready down the road."
 

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