Faction [GC/SO] The Golden Covenant

[Romé]

WEB OF SNAKES
~Her the heron huried away~

WEARING: x
PROXIMITY: Open
ENGAGING: Kadann

​

THULE, ESSTRAN SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

All the conversation to be had was interrupted by the extravagant displays of… what was it? Power? Yes, whatever it was, by the host of the grand ball, Darth Nwul . Yet it wasn't power, or glory, or prestige, that I sensed from the speech. No. It was fear and cowardice. Not only did he hold this ball without inviting the Emperor, nor the Empress, nor their attack dogs, he slandered their names behind their backs. Citing the dissolution of a prestigious morals, culture, rule of mortals. What I see is not a powerful Lord taking his stand. No. It was a desperate attempt of a lesser God to rally the mortals with apocryphal promises, in hope of one day displacing the Dead God himself. His wrath is all that will come out of this whole ordeal.

I scanned the crowd for Darth Malum of House Marr , trying to gauge the reaction on his face, of what's been said and shown. My master is as treacherous as one can get, yet he is not stupid. The grand display of mourning with the black outfits was a very nice touch, that we are not, publicly, supporting this subversive nonsense. Whatever is in the back is to remain in the back.

Shifting my gaze back to Kadann , I noticed the emptiness in his soul through the whole ordeal. The words and the spectacle doesn't affect him, it wasn't even in his mind. All that's going up there was memories. Flashes of agony and glimpses of terrors, all clouded beneath a mind that has been trained to forget and close its eyes on what's happening around. Catching his gaze, I tried to pull him back from his thoughts, asking more questions. "Gaudy pageant, noxious rhetoric, and glittering promises. It does fit the color Gold, hmm?"
​

​

 

[Kadann]

. "Gaudy pageant, noxious rhetoric, and glittering promises. It does fit the color Gold, hmm?"

This time the Lady was rewarded with a hint of a smile. Slightly obscured by his beard, at one corner of his lips, the effect was more visible as a softening of his stern features.

"I have seen entire armies held together by a bit of showmanship and a few rousing words," Kadann said.

He no longer cared which side of the wheel he stood upon. It would turn and grind and crush with or without him. His saber went to whoever was paying.

"I'd rather a veneer of civility," Kadann added. Even if it was gaudy, he silently added.

Kadann continued their walk through the crowd, but angled himself towards Ravenna Sarn Keto and Shan Pavond

"I might check that the young Jedi guests are safe," he decided to explain. "Was this all, not how you expected?" he asked.

 

[Shan Pavond]

"I am well, thank you, my lad-" Shan was cut off mid-sentence as soon as he felt the voice inside of his head. Almost instantly he went reinforcing his mental shields. There was no way he was going to talk to someone mentally. Especially when he was surrounded by Sith. He could never know who was actually listening, and he didn't want to risk his misbehaving causing punishments for Cora. She was in more danger than he ever could be. At least that was the way he saw things. She was the one in front of all of the Sith, being paraded around. He could at least somewhat blend into the background. He was safer than she ever could be. Either way, the Mirialan brushed himself off, giving a thin lipped smile in the direction of Ravenna Sarn Keto. She might have meant well, but Shan wasn't going to risk it. "I...Yes. I am well. Thank you. Just in awe of the people that are here."

He lowered his head at that, still trying to be his best at being polite. Though whilst Corazona von Ascania reached out to try and touch Shan's mind, she'd notice that now, his mind was constantly shielded. The Padawan not being willing to drop his shield for any reason at the moment. He was paranoid of who could be listening in to him. Every single thing happening around him could be a trap and he didn't fancy getting himself caught in one. Especially when he had no means of defending himself. Maybe leaving when he could would have been the right and smart choice..but Shan was never really one for making smart choices, and he didn't like the idea of leaving Cora behind.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's face blanked in a moment of mild surprise at Marcus Dinn ‘s warning. Don't fall in love with him? It won't end well? How bold.

Her attention was quickly drawn to a slew of grand entrances - first, a group of five figures emerged from a fiery rend. Next, House Marr made their debut. Each and every one of the new arrivals - each of the guests, really - were achingly beautiful. A homely face couldn't be spotted in the crowd. Her gaze flickered to Nwul. Was this by design?

Ukatis was an austere, stringent society that turned nose up at anything deemed frivolous. Such pomp would've been met with arched, greying brows and painted lips whispering viciously behind the cover of delicate fans. Still, among the red and gold banners of Thule, the fanfare didn't seem out of place.

She felt each glance, however fleeting, as they passed over her. Cora imagined that some were simply curious regarding the woman who found herself on the arm of this evening's host, yet others reminded her quickly that she was akin to a mortal in a den of gods. Her presence crept out towards Shan Pavond , puzzled as she gently probed the stalwart barriers around his mind. Hopefully none of the more aggressive Sith present took breaking the mind of a Padawan as a challenge

if you are held against your will as a slave to the man you need but speak it, I despise slavers more then I do any other being in the galaxy

The Twi'lek drew in closer, speaking in a low tone between the two. Despite a spark of understanding in blue eyes, Cora's polite smile and courtly demeanor remained unchanged.

Ah.

"I do so despise slavers, Lady Solus. Such a barbaric practice.”

Her focus shifted back to the ring, a smile pinned to her face.

“I find it admirable - and perhaps, humbling - that you seek to suppress yourself in a sea of veritable powerhouses."

What terrifying power did Lady Solus possess, and how would it match up against the blinding abilities of the Sith in the room? Arctus Silmar and Darth Caedes stood out like blooming valleys of Dark, as did many of those in attendance. It would've been a strange sensation had she not grown so used to Nwul's presence since she'd been snatched from the battlefield by - oh, there she was. Madrona A’Mia , clad in a fantastical arboreal gown that seemed to have been grown from her own flesh, was on the arm of a dark haired man.

A hush swept the room as Darth Nwul began his fervent speech, blazing with the passion he was known for. A sense of affection washed over her as she listened to him speak, taken with his ardor, even if they did inspire a dreadful twisting in her gut. As various noble houses and individuals of note called out in support, Cora's attention shifted from Nwul to an unsettlingly familiar face as he approached.

Wearing a predatory smile honed by years as an aristocrat, Darth Malum of House Marr had asked her to dance. It had been years since Exegol, where herself and another Padawan - Jand Talo - had faced down the young Marr and Tegan Starfall .

"Of course, Lord Marr." With a gracious nod of her head, Cora slipped her hand into his own. There was a sharpness to her eyes that did not quite match her demure smile she was wearing.

"How could I refuse, when you look so very much like my dear departed husband?"

Darth Xyrah Romé Stardust Solus Skirae

 

[Darth Xyrah]

Saryn giggled at Star, quickly giving her a tight affectionate hug, before he smiled at Malum when he approached Lady Cora to offer her a dance. "Ahh, Lord Malum! I'd been meaning to approach you at some point. I had a proposal you might very much be interested in.", he said, before chuckling. "It can wait though. You two enjoy yourselves.", he said, leaving them both to their dance before he stepped forward in view of those gathered in the hall and spoke out to reply to Nwul.

"I and House Naberrie stand with you, my lord, as does it's droid military. May we earn great glories for all gathered here for these festivities in the coming future!", he said, beaming Nwul a warm, cheerful smile.

Darth Nwul
Corazona von Ascania
Darth Malum of House Marr
Stardust Solus Skirae

 

[Ravenna Sarn]

Ravenna felt Shan Pavond place a barrier over his mind. As a Krath she could attempt to breach it, but she was here as a representative of Teta. So she went along with the small talk,

“There are indeed intriguing people here.”

With that she smiled, knowing that he was not at ease to say more in mindverse,

“It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, I must retire for a moment.”

She with her two hand maidens retreated to a back room where she sat on a bed. She took a deep breath. In truth her own heart was troubled, aching like a bruised limb.

One of the Hand Maidens approached,

“Milady, are you alright?”

Ravenna eyed ths Young Servant.

“I am fine.. just tired.”

Now she was lying. Anak Darkstar ’s sudden departure from This Covenant had made her furious. He had so much promise, and now in middle of a party he had to be escorted away.

“I am going to kill him!”

The Older Handmaiden asked the younger one to leave.

Ravenna looked at her trusted Servant who spoke,

“I warned you. You became too attached to him. He does not serve the interests of the Krath. He even failed to serve this Covenant, he is like a failing star, burning out and consuming all around him. You should forget him.”

The Lady Sarn-Keto took another deep breath.

“He left me a message, bidding me to come with him..”

The Aged Handmaiden sat beside her Lady.

“If you wish ruin for Teta, for The Krath, and for yourself, then go.”

Ravenna shed a single tear. Such a whirlwind of emotion, to one minute be in ecstasy and then to be in misery. She felt a deep well of hatred fill her heart.

She held her hand out and took off a gnarled black crown of thorns on her wedding finger.

“Take this to him. It is my answer.”

The Old Hag took the ring and made her way through the party to the Landing Pad. On the outskirts she found that Disgraced Individual, standing on the ramp of that dreaded ship. She approached him and handed the ring to Anak.

“Your answer. Young Fool, you had it all, a Cause and a Bride greater than you deserved. Now your impetuousness has cost you everything. I suggest you disappear, or my Mistress will show you the wrath of the Krath.”

With that she turned away from the Darkstar, and returned back to Ravenna who adjusted her head dress. Her face stoic, a mask of Krath magic to hide the ire and pain inside as she returned to the party. She went and stood beside a fire place, the heat not even phasing the chill her skin and bones felt.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Star saw the look if understanding, she held that gaze for a minute till Cora spoke and let a small nod out

complicated, understandable. Regardless the offer will stand till I must leave

With that she smile again and held the ring up for Cora to see as she chuckled and brushed a finger over it's surface as she mused quietly to herself before speaking

I do it out of respect for the venue, lord nwul has already seen the power without my ring, perhaps maybe later if lord nwul would entertain it I will show off a bit...it'll be a fiery show

There came that wicked grin of a predator, a dragon amongst men, however that faded after lord Marr came up and took Cora for a dance much to the jedis not apparent disapproval. This left star along with saryn next to her whom boldy declared his assistance to the covenant. Stardust couldn't decide where she laid in this whole thing. It was rather interesting and would do better for the balance of the galaxy to have a empire that could rival the jedi in popularity among the people...perhaps she would just offer assistance for now and her knowledge to see how things would flow...

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Ah, then please have my condolences, Lady Ascania, to be a widow so young... I would not wish that upon anyone," Malum spoke with feigned somberness, as he led the Jedi Padawan through the swirling masses, down atop the dance floor. Passing by Darth Xyrah and giving a simple nod in answer, he had wanted to speak to the representative of the Kainites, it was fortunate that it seemed they wanted to speak to him as well. Still whatever no doubt dastardously enterprise they had in store for him, could wait for after this event.

He too caught the eye of his apprentice, Romé , offering a nod as permission to do as she wished.

The words of Darth Nwul were across the room, at one moment near his ear, teasing, and the next, atop the balcony, making clear his ideology for what would come. It was unfair how his words were so intoxicating, if he closed his eyes and listened, if he had no intention to make a move himself, if he simply sat and listened, the loyal foot soldier... he might have been convinced by his words.

It was not that he was not.

That was the real tragedy, for all he might disagree about this powerplay, Nwul's critiques were not incorrect, nor were they unfair.

No, Malum wore black today, in mourning, not as a show of deviation, not as a show of ideological disagreement.

But because simply, he was tired.

He had fought in two Sith civil wars, one against the Kainites, and now this present one between the Empire and the Tsis'Kaar. Yet history would remember the three Imperial civil wars that came before, the third which many in this very room, even his own father, had fought in. There were Sith civil wars before them, there very well could be Sith civil wars after them. Yet what was the point in their Order, if even here, exiled out in the Outer Rim, in the Sith Worlds, they could not help but fight amongst themselves?

The Maw were gone, the Ashlan were gone, the New Imperial Order were gone, the Mandalorians were reduced.

Even with a single foe left to them, their first port of call was still, to fight amongst themselves.

It mattered not even if this new Order was to be ribbed with gold, if this Order could not simply hold itself together to prosecute the only war that mattered.

All this went through his head as the speech went on. All these thoughts and more had plagued him ever since he received this invitation. Ever since he received the lightsaber which signalled his initiation into the Gilded Council.

Was this the right thing to do?

So it was, that when Nwul demanded the call for fealty among the Houses.

House Marr remained peculiarly silent.

Their scion far more focused upon, his hands curling around the waist of the scion of that of the Ascanias, his other hand, hand in hand with hers, as the ballroom beckoned.

"Still, you must promise me Lady Ascania, if I truly do look like your husband, that you not fall in love with me... I am afraid my heart is already accounted for." Brilliant flashes of white strands, twinkled in his ruby eyes, as he twirled Corazona von Ascania , around the floor, "And if you care to indulge in my curiousity, tell me why the apprentice of Valery Noble is here, at a gathering of Sith nobility." His smile took a dangerous edge, he remembered well the apprentice who had been his foe upon Exegol, and though Jand Talo had been his main adversary that day, the blonde princess had been hard to miss, even more so when he did some digging. He had thought their next encounter, if there ever would be one, would have been during the Sith invasion of the Galactic Alliance... not a ballroom affair.

Yet the old adage remained true.

War made for strange bedfellows indeed.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

A'Mia Madrona

​

Taking the sight of everything and everyone in, A'Mia briefly did just as she was directed. Turning with Shaper, eyes sweeping as they moved. It was as if her social graces were just coming back online and she registered many things in a very short span. Before their departure, she had been fixated on showing off the craft of her living gown and distant with rumination about all of the ways her life had changed in such a short span of time. Now her purpose here tonight suddenly came clear, and it was not their host who first caught the heightened sensitivity of her scrutinizing gaze. No, instead it was the party she had come with, at once resplendent and heavy with power.

A'Mia felt outside of time as she followed the maelstrom of Darth Nwul flit into spacetime beside Caedes, appearing as a comet that blazes through the night sky to briefly fling itself through the orbit of a planet. As their host danced away, the Neti's eyes remained on her King and she was again awash with purpose. Her hand drifted along The Shaper's shoulders as she moved to take her place behind not only him but each of their party. Her presence in the force reaching out like so many thousands of rooting tendrils, re-familiarizing herself with their signatures and providing her own. In much the way microrrhizal networks form between Worshyyr tree roots and essential fungi in living soil.

The Force is with us… her very presence seemed to say as she loomed behind her companions.

Darth Caedes seemed to warp the fabric of spacetime where he stood and the weave about him thrummed with intention, the man himself more like a blazing inferno wrapped in an aura of icy lightning. A white hot star of burning Force which melded at the edges with crimson, ice cold flames that crackled like a compass needle ever pulling toward that desert world she now called home. An avatar of the holy world itself. His was a spectacular power and weighty responsibility, worn proudly on shoulders well supported by those two striking figures on either side.

Zal Aditi , an unparalleled beast master equipped with ruthless wit. A'Mia had a poor understanding of what family was meant to be, but the Omwati had already inspired in her a sense of kinship she had rarely known. She too bore the aura of Korriban, though her fainter corona of power mingled too with an unmistakable signature of Thule. The woman's decorated claws pulsed with a faint glow as the bioluminescence reacted as other plants were in her vicinity, and Zal's feathers pulsed faintly with white energy as A'Mia's mind brushed over hers.

Then the most subtle of their group, Elmindra Xitaar , her very presence like a cornerstone within their fellowship. She could be easily overlooked in her presence within the force though never in the flesh. The woman's abstruse skill set was the most mysterious to A'Mia personally as she was a curator of emotion and mindset. The regal Falleen shared something with the Neti though and it was the sense of inextricable loyalty to their King, to the unification and growth of The Sith Order. Hers was a light but iron firm command at the helm of great ship keeping the course.

"We bring the full might of Korriban to bear witness in our being here. There was great wisdom in all eyes here first alighting upon the King Ascending in our arrival," she murmured back to Arctus Silmar mentally.

Her eyes rose then from her mighty companions as Nwul began his impassioned speech. There were layers to his illusions that even he may not have been aware of, points of light which blazed like pin holes poked through black fabric held up to a noonday sky. Light which cast strings of illumination in a pattern across his audience so that while he spoke A'Mia almost felt as if she could see which audience members were drawn in by the man's words and which were having mixed or repelled emotions. He finished with an oath and a call to the crowd, seeking feedback after his proclamation.

She could feel the way Shaper became a conduit, creating a channel of darkness she could bolster her own power with and Nwul came into sharper focus still. No longer just a maelstrom of emotion before her eyes, she could see individual motes and tendrils, hundreds maybe even thousands of disparate emotions swirling, within and without the man. She could sense that this was at once the source of his power as well as his madness. For the time being, those many soul threads were spun and carefully integrated by the man. Most striking though was something she had seen when she first met him at the conclusion of the ritual, after she had knelt to Caedes and paid him the proper respect by offering up two padawans to her King.

That something was a grievous force wound which rent the man from breast bone to below his navel. She had not seen it before in such clarity, too focused on Caedes at the time to fully study Nwul. But now she raked her eyes over him, looked through him with her heightened sight.

“That ‘spider’ is wounded terribly. Darkness, heated and humid, leaves him like a geothermal vent. He is a hurricane of emotion which hurls itself at the edges of his being, though he does weave it back deftly... A colossal storm in a bottle. He is… bolstered most thoroughly in his current focus by the presence of Darth Malum of House Marr , Darth Xyrah , and of course, Darth Caedes." She concluded her silent report to Shaper.

As the crowd began to respond and either call out their support, neutrality, or reserved judgment. As people began to again move about animated with the new energy their host provided, A'Mia sought the man's general gaze and offered a curtsey. She used the motion to lower herself closer to Darth Caedes and speak to him softly.

"Your will, my King."

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Esstran Sector
• Thule
• Rivobam Jungle | The Restored Palace
• Color Code: 028dc1
• Tags— Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | Madrona A’Mia | Arctus Silmar | Darth Nwul

Darth Caedes smiled in a way which didn't quite reach his eyes, and greeted the newly appointed Lord before him, Nwul. He bristled as the other man drew in close, his muscles tensing, though Caedes had learned long ago to tolerate this Sith's obsession with physical affections and inclination towards shameless verbal adoration.

"Caedes!" Crowed the bouncing Sith.​

"You came! I knew you would my friend, it's so good to see you!"​

"Naturally," Caedes replied.​

"I would not miss it."​

"This is your most exquisite form yet," the other continued unabated, "masterful!"​

A fist clenched beneath the obscuring cover of Elmindra's draped and taloned fingers, her arm atop his own.

"You have similarly done well for yourself here, my Lord," he agreed through his teeth with a nod.​

"Korriban welcomes your ascension."​

Indeed, Korriban would welcome each of the oddities and sore thumbs within the confines of Empyrean's diminished Order, and in the same grace with which it championed the otherwise great and established powers therein; the Kainite, and the Eternal loyalists of the Corpse Emperor himself. In time, each fragmented ideal would find their place within the greater garden of the Sith. Still, observing the new-Lord's antics was rather like watching a child run about, making first-friends in the playpen. Darth Caedes scowled, then urged the group onward.

Together, they split the crowds of Nwul's gathering, parting them like a spear parts flesh and penetrating the many watchful eyes and wagging tongues of the Sith's otherwise neglected nobility. Reaching out with his senses, Caedes could touch the lesser minds of those who drew nearest, turning them on their heels and sending them away like paper boats in the water. He could see the recognition dawn across their faces as an impetus of his design burgeoned to life within them each, each of them thinking the instinct their own: make way for the King of Korriban. Make way for his Lords in Attendance. Make way.

From the center, Darth Caedes could feel the life pulse of those gathered in thick clusters around him. Feel as curiosity and ambition— as greed met with fear and doubt, mixing and churning together as if wind-whipped ocean waters made white with the foaming anticipation of the many. Pillars of ideology divided the crowds into pockets, like a quilt sewn together from various patches never intended to match in the first place. Although they all wore the same colors in red and gold, the garments of their more individual identities, perhaps their truer selves, clashed and mismatched. Those gathered here belonged to a class of denizen unfulfilled by and disrespected beneath the greater Sith Order. These were opportunists and the exhausted, stood shoulder to shoulder with the battle weary and the ambitious, the entitled raising their glasses alongside those who hoped merely to belong to someone's greater plan. Then, Nwul spoke and the waves of the crowd crashed to make foam again.

Heresy! Some thought like dark clouds! Brilliant! Came the silver-lined perceptions of the more hopeful. Some fell into disappointment, others to the enrapture of Nwul's address, and for a moment it felt as if a single nudge, one well-placed push, could topple the carefully cultivated, risqué grandeur of the gathered audience entirely. The muscles 'round Caedes' mouth tensed and drew tight, his back straightening, lips becoming a thin line to bisect his face.

Idly, Caedes wondered if Nwul yet walked that thin and winding pathway betwixt bravery and utter foolishness, or if that path had somewhere been abandoned altogether in the tumult of his Lordship's growing ambitions. Why else would he invoke the Emperor's name beneath the pretenses of such denigration? Was it bravery to do so here and now, or the greater cowardice—? To do so only while safe from the proximity of Empyrean himself. Which tombs had he plundered to find naught but scraps? For Caedes had found a wealth of treasure and natural resources in the repossession of the Sith's home world on Korriban. Even now, museums and cultural centers sprung up across the planet, surrounding new Academies and reclaimed, historical landmarks, heralding the times of Old.

Investigatory tendrils of the Force snaking out, invisible, from around Darth Caedes, he glanced from side to side, catching brief moments from notable personages such as Darth Xyrah , husband to Carnifex, Stardust Solus Skirae and Alina Tremiru , Asaaj En Kelsani , Darth Amarok , Darth Malum of House Marr , his current Apprentice Romé , and his fair haired Jedi companion, Corazona von Ascania .

Something picked at Caedes' senses, hairs raising along the back of his neck, and he turned to behold the Neti acolyte at his flank. Shaper, Korriban's Lord of Artifice, Ancient of the Sith, stood resplendent at her side.

"Your will, my King," she said, her gaze knowing.​

Distantly, her's was a familiar face, as if once he'd dreamt of A'Mia standing across from him, just as she was now.
Indeed, he thought, meeting the pull of her eyes. A dream.

"Your will be your own, Lord Seer."​

Finally, Caedes let the twin-sun weight of his full gaze fall upon Nwul, his eyes neither furious nor at ease, though intense nevertheless.

Nwul, they beckoned.
We would have words.

​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina paused as she stepped from the crowd. She was eager to see where Darth Nwul would end up. The Sith were a constant wave of new trying to rise above the old. Determination was what made the difference. And yet, she felt the briefest brush over her. The Force, studying? Her eyes shifted to the source. The one with the extravagant entrance. She reached out in turn, but rather than do so subtly as the other had, she made clear who was behind it.

And as she did, the Force died around her. Suppressed under her reach. Just enough to catch the Lord's attention. She didn't appreciate prying eyes, after all.

Darth Caedes

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

Tag: Pls Forgib - I don't know who to tag yet. [OPEN]
Location: Thule
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition. Some women can recognize game before you even decide to play it."
___________
​

Politics were an absolute bore.

With hair of pure onyx and eyes of glimmering bloodstone the youngest of House Marr made her way into the opulence provided by the novel ruling class of Thule. It was new money. No less valuable than old credits but systemically more interesting than their everlastingly full coffers. She held firm to the expected aura of imperial confidence, followed, by a wealth of dark hair cascading around pearlescent shoulders in a waterfall of shadows. Her piercing red eyes surveyed the room, absorbing elaborate décor, and the decidedly powerful figures that occupied the space.

Tonight marked one of her first outings into the upper echelon of Sith theatrics. Her parents and more importantly her elder brother had shielded her from it until now. It was for her own good. Her eyes nearly rolled at the thought. It was a line that she had heard time and time again while being denied the chance to prove herself worthy of her family name. Malum had been afforded every opportunity to bring House Marr the glory they so richly deserved, so much so, that Sophia felt…Forgotten.

As their names were ushered forth by the herald, she painted a beautiful smile on perfectly red lips that was meant to both entice and dissuade. It bespoke of her nature. So far above the peasantry that graced this lavish gathering that they should all know what it was like to feel her allure. To feel that siren call and in the same breath—Suffer in the wake of her unspoken denial. The children of House Marr were cultured, educated, and powerful.

Their littlest gem was no exception.

The gown she wore, rather obediently (too obediently for those who knew her well – mistakes were made somewhere, certainly), met the requirements that Darth Malum of House Marr had levied before the gathering. But…Her seamstresses had taken her own wants and desires into account upon its creation. It was sultry, elegant, and commanded attention at every turn. It was a breathtaking blend of black and red with a bodice made of crafted, rich silk, that hugged her every curve with a tantalizing embrace. The state of the plunging neckline had likely given her brother a coronary but it would have been too late to adjust it. A fact she knowingly, rebelliously, took advantage of.

Her waist was cinched with a red sash that boldly drew the eye toward an hourglass silhouette. The bottom was a flow of fabric that pooled like water at her heeled feet with a fairly modest (by her opinion) slit to allow her freedom of movement. The red lining beneath her skirts peeked through when she walked, danced, and betrayed the fiery spirit concealed within the depths of deeply ingrained nobility. Her sense of style was much more modern than some of her other sisters.

Youthful—She liked to call it.

Even if they were in mourning there was no reason, Sophia had to give the impression that she was the one that had died.

There were so many faces. So many eyes—So many that she had to impress just by existing in a sphere where some might have easily considered putting a dagger in her back. Not because she'd done anything to deserve it but simply to spark another war. Malum…Malum would raise hell if he had to bury one of their own. She felt his exhaustion. But that? That would be something that would wake the magnificent Sith her brother had become.

Turn him into something…New.

Part of her was wickedly curious to find out. The rest of her…Too possessive of their family, of her own skin, to fathom it. She had no desire to be unalived for an experiment.

She was not blind to the presence of those of the Light but her thoughts immediately drifted away from their heretical presence. Perhaps, they were in the midst of falling from grace. She watched while her brother danced with one of them and accepted an offer to dance with an unknown. Sophia was certain they held a name, rank, and title—But not enough for her to care.

Her dance partner was merely a means to an end.

To be seen.​

In the sea gold and red…It would be so easy to be overlooked and Sophia would be damned if that was to be her fate. Nothing more than a darling little sister, charmed daughter, and debutant. It was insulting to her lineage and of her potential.

She only stopped when the host of this event, Darth Nwul , called for their attention to bring their thoughts around toward a new ideology. Well…Not exactly new but certainly treasonous. Eyes of crimson swept over a combination of showmanship and boldness that she could scarcely wrap her mind around. Sophia had expected something of this gathering but not…This. The Sith Order was still in a state of disarray because of the last wars that had been so desperately fought. It had barely had a chance to lift itself from the ashes due to the current infighting and consolidation process.

It wasn't that Sophia found the words of this unknown Sith Lord entirely incorrect, though, they were coated in the sleek-tongued skill of a salesman trying to push snake oil on clientele that knew him not. She could see men throwing themselves at his feet, easily, in supplication whilst he offered to become their servant. It was a play on words that she was both impressed by and turned away from. Were they not already? The exquisite woman found herself bemused by the abrupt change and excused herself from her faceless dance partner.

Would Malum pledge fealty to another faction now? So soon?

Would their House be torn asunder again?

She had many questions. Many—And no one to ask. It was not her place to speak for House Marr nor to publicly question the head of the family. Her eyes slipped through the crowd, looking, for her brother but all she could see was the flickering form of Darth Nwul. Here and gone. There…And gone.

Sophia picked up a goblet of wine from domestic staff that passed and took a sip that was none too small. She wanted to reverse time and get back to what she was good at. Dancing. Networking. Socializing and absorbing information like a sponge. Still…As she swallowed the exceedingly dry beverage, she found herself…

Curious.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As Darth Malum of House Marr led them in a waltz, Cora took a moment to reflect on how much time had passed since they'd last met – if only briefly, in the heat of battle. She'd been younger then, they both had, still relatively green in the ways of the Force. Exegol may as well have been a lifetime ago.

"Still, you must promise me Lady Ascania, if I truly do look like your husband, that you not fall in love with me... I am afraid my heart is already accounted for."

She laughed. Light and delicate, with a gentle toss of her head that shifted loose blonde ringlets.

"I shall heed your warning, Lord Marr. No one can hold a candle to Horace – nor replace the way he occupies my mind."

Love had never been apart of the equation, not when noble marriages on Ukatis were far more akin to business deals than love matches. Marcel von Ascania had maneuvered himself into a fine political position, selling his daughter to a brutal man in order to secure favor for House Ascania.It hurt, but, Cora had understood. Sacrifice one to help many. Horace had stolen her innocence, carving endless rivers of physical and psychological scars unto her flesh and soul. It was during her lowest point, when she'd been contemplating the call of the void at a cliff's edge, that Darth Nwul had pulled her away from the edge. Known then as Wake Nayne, their interaction had sparked an affair with the wandering Sith.

Prince Horace died several months later. Officially, in an unfortunate accident. The grisly truth lived in the bruises he'd left around his young widow's neck, in the endless black eyes and unpleasant markings that remained hidden from sight by long sleeves and the skillful use of concealer. Several days in a dungeon awaiting her execution had been cut short by a trio of Jedi she'd been particularly close with, and one close friend who viciously wielded his political acumen for her benefit. A deal had been cut, underlined with unsaid threats – the Princess of Ukatis was exiled in exchange for a cover-up. Still, rumors swirled as they always had.

Now, she was on Thule. First as a prisoner, captured while trying to interfere with the ritual, and now…willingly? Nwul had been nothing but kind and accommodating towards her, but her own thoughts were complicated. She wanted to stay and explore both her feelings for him and perhaps what she could gain from wielding the Dark – but her loyalty to Master Noble and the New Jedi Order held her fast.

"And if you care to indulge in my curiousity, tell me why the apprentice of Valery Noble Valery Noble is here, at a gathering of Sith nobility."

She was beginning to think that no one would ask.

Cora smiled primly, utterly tired of men who looked at her like she was their prey. Still, her tone remained even and pleasant.

"I was invited. It would be rude of me to turn down an invitation."

Tilting her head forward, she shifted a finger on the hand at Malum's shoulder, curling it towards her in a subtle come-hither motion. Her voice lowered into a playful mock-whisper as if she were sharing a secret between the two of them.

"Do not tell anyone, but I am a spy!"

The corners of her lips drew into a viper of a smile before she giggled airily. Both Malum's fashion choice and his family's silence regarding Nwul's speech had not escaped her notice – neither had his sister, a raven-haired beauty in an eye-catching gown that garnered attention wherever she swept. One diplomat's gaze lingered for a hair too long, prompting his wife to pull him away sharply by his ear. Cora might've snickered if she hadn't been preoccupied with her dance partner.

"You've four lovely sisters – they seem rather quiet tonight." She observed. "What do you think of Lord Nwul's goal, Lord Marr?"

 

[Darth Nwul]

Passion was an infectious thing, but there were some who were innoculated to it. Nwul knew this, but there were other ways of overcoming doubts. Other ways of dismissing of concerns. His smoldering eyes turned to the first to speak, Darth Amarok . He broke into a welcoming smile, stepping closer to the railing and resting his hand on it.

"StormWolf, a name lost to the crushing march of time, or so your enemies thought, Lady Venge ?" Darth Nwul asked, "You have endured and now here you stand. The heart of a reborn House StormWolf," He held out a hand to them from afar, "Your family shall rise once more."

He did not move his body, but his eyes flicked to the left to Alina Tremiru . His own charming smile matching hers, he raised his hand to his heart. "May those secrets see to the strengthening of the Empire and the Order that serves it. I only hope that I will live up to your expectations," He looked out over the crowd and locked eyes with Arctus Silmar , The Shaper. He could sense the man's emotions even if he could not taste his thoughts. His mind was too powerful for such things, and Nwul would not press such query with a potential ally. He had sensed the change in mood during the speech, knew what words had set the man off. He, who was most sensitive to emotions among the sith, could tell that much.

He turned his gaze away, regarding the other Sith present, "I sense your disgust, my friend. You doubt my words about our young? Would you have an untrained and unhoned acolyte, not yet an apprentice, race off to the front lines? To what end?" His sharp whisper came through the force. The test of violence and competition was a part of nature, it was expected, demanded. He would not deny those who had been honed within the nest their chance. But it was equally natural for the young to be raised first, before being sent on their first hunt.

His eyes flicked down to Asaaj En Kelsani and Maëlys Amnen . Asaaj was a dathomiri, one of the cultures he longed to restore connection to. Maelys was on the opposite end of the spectrum, but just as valuable, a wealthy industrialist from Muunlist. Her presence spoke to the wealth backing his plan. She alone had unknowingly turned a few nobles to his side. He regarded her with a smile as other nobles and sith announced that they would be swearing their loyalty to a greater future for their people.

His eyes flicked to the back of Stardust Solus Skirae 's head, he sensed something from her but he could not make out her words from where he stood. She'd offered her services to him on that rainy day, so he knew she was loyal, until she chose not to be, of course. She had not bent the knee, yet, and so he would reserve judgement until that day came. The Sith who would be Emperor closed his eyes and took a breath for a moment, tasting the emotions in the air. His eyes fell upon Romé , they lingered for a moment, his focus on her long enough to draw her attention before he looked away with a cruel smile, offering Kadann a faint nod.

Thats when he saw Cora take the hand of Malum, for a moment he paused. The faintest feeling of jealousy washing over him. Oh how he wanted to be the first to take her hand to dance this night. But he had a duty to the Sith to follow through on. Instead, he simply sent her the emotion of amusement in her direction, he shifted his attention to Darth Malum of House Marr . His eyes twinkled thoughtfully for a moment as they lingered on the golden lightsaber on the man's belt. He smirked.

His eyes falling upon Darth Xyrah next. Nwul beamed in the direction of the mighty Sith, "Darth Xyrah, you again prove yourself to be invaluable to the order. House Naberrie is welcome in the Covenant."

Then he sensed it, eyes on him, seeing through the force rather than with the bending of light. He did not look in the direction of @Madrona A'Mia. Instead... he offered her something special.

My, aren't you brave? Would you like to see something pretty? He whispered to her in the force as he waved at another nobleman who swore to uphold the Covenant.

The storm inside of Nwul condensed, the billowing clouds of emotions that disguised the heart of the storm began to part. For just a moment, that which was hidden within was glimpsed. The vision was that of a star, somewhere in the galaxy, roiling in the cosmos and casting flames from it on occasion. Yet it was not the star that filled any that looked upon it with dread. It was the red writhing mass that stretched out from it's surface. Long, cylindrical bodies of red flesh that moved like serpents in and out of the blazing shell. Somewhere deep inside, a cosmic nightmare lingered, its eyes burning with an emotion that was not meant for the understanding of sentient beings. Then, just like that, the moment passed and the clouds returned. The source of Nwul's might laid bare for only a heartbeat.

Ask your master, little flower, to teach you to reign in your remarkable sight. I would rather not hurt someone precious to my friend.

Speaking of which, his gaze turned towards Darth Caedes and he locked eyes with the man. He knew what Caedes wanted, he would have it. His concerns would be waylayed soon as well. Nwul had no intention of hiding within this gathering. He was only using it as a private celebration of what was to come. Empyrean would know his intentions soon enough, when the time was right. As it was with true Sith. One did not attack until they were prepared to do so. To flaunt onesself in front of a powerful enemy without the guarantee of victory was the way of the Jedi and the imbecilic.

The sith who judged him could have their deficient thoughts, their sad ideals, and their wasteful craven beliefs. Nwul snorted quietly to himself and shook his head, there would be time to save the order from itself. The Dark Side had guided him to this path and he would follow it to the bitter end.

I know. Soon. He said through the force, finally, sending soothing respect towards his friend.

He raised a hand to the crowd, "This covenant, this pact, is born on the value of meritocracy and of strength. I value the strong, capable, and wise. Those who see the bigger picture and understand that the Empire comes first, our Empire," He began briefly, "I have no intention of another civil war. If you want to see to the dissolution of our order and the fragmenting of our society, take your heresy elsewhere," He said, his words coming out sharp, his expression, for the first time, almost sour if not angry.

"We are a political union, a bloc, made up of all walks of life in our empire. We will spread throughout the empire, from within. I have already taken steps to ensure that we are invaluable to the Empire," He said with a sneer, "The Lord of Worms cannot move against us easily even now, lest he be the cause of a conflict that will rip his dominion apart. Our goal is to make our position stronger, this convenant indivisible from the empire."

Nwul cracked a playful smile and looked down at Malum, "So we'll start with our grand debut. This Covenant will be baptised in the blood and fire of the enemies of the Empire," He bore his teeth, "We will be making our first appearance on Fiviune."

With that he stepped through the railing, turning into mist and reappearing behind Malum. For a heartbeat, Nwul the man was not standing there. Rather, a woman with porcelain skin and black hair that fluttered in an unseen wind, an elegant dress whipped around her legs that seemed to end in an eerie mist. Her aura was still that humid heat of Nwul's but her scent was something almost indescribable, like the moments after a rainstorm or the scent of burning herbs and spices. The woman chuckled winking at Cora before leaning into Malum's ear, "Satisfied?" She teased and vanished again into the crowd.

Nwul reformed just outside a small gathering of noblemen, ready to start mingling again and discussing the finer points of what was to come. As he did, he reached out to shake hands with a gray-haired imperial just as someone walking through the crowd caught his eye. He stopped in time for that person to emerge, goblet of wine in hand.

His head tilted to the right, curious, like a bird examining its prey, he crossed his hands behind his back thoughtfully. "And who might you be?" He asked Sophia of House Marr .

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: OPEN //:​

It had been some time since Quinn had entertained the thought of a party or a gala. It was even longer that she showed up to an event. This one though she found a striking interest in it. Whispers echoed loud enough that she couldn't ignore it. Quinn thought it to be a good opportunity to rub elbows with her fellows. Once more the churn of the power struggles began and everyone who was anyone sought to find allies.

A new face, one that she hadn't seen much of was all the talk. From what she could see, he ( Darth Nwul ) was charismatic - a dangerous trait. "Thank you," her hand reached for the passing glasses of champagne. The beige alcohol swirled in the thin fluted glass as she brought it to her face. Cheap. She should have expected it, but being estranged royalty that was the price. Her lips had tasted the finest and little compared.

At least the drink was a distraction and a way to hide her gaze. There were several faces that she didn't recognize, others she had seen in passing, but for the most part she was in a room full of strangers. Interesting. She thought silently. Her eyes met Alina's for a brief moment, Quinn smiled playfully almost saying 'Meet me later'. She knew Alina Tremiru had business and different affairs to deal with. The woman had to catch up for the time she lost while in the netherworld.

She didn't need to be privy to that. Quinn found a place away from the dance floor as she watched. An arm draped across her front, supporting the occupied hand with the champagne. More and more people mingled and she made note of those who became the centers of attention.

 

[Asaaj En Kelsani]

Location: An unihabited system a few hundred light years from Thule before arriving at Thule
Objective: Visit the Gala
Tags: Stardust Solus Skirae but also open to interaction with anyone

Loadout

Asaaj watched further the performance from Darth Nwul he was lively and confident, he called out a few doubters in the crowd and Asaaj simply grinned at him as he looked at both him and her dark skinned associate. She had watched empires rise and fall over the generations, including her own. This part was always very fun, so why not enjoy it before things became more difficult later.

"He certainly has the flair for the dramatic, he reminds me of the third pretender, Rufus Van Hògenn, charismatic."

"I'm sorry i don't know that name, Lady En Kelsani?" Maëlys Amnen replied with curiosity.

"Of course you dont, it was four hundred years before your birth on a planet most people have never heard of. Rufus was the youngest son of the man who took my throne, he liked parties and big displays of his future plans, could have gone far if it wasnt for.... you know." Asaaj drew her sharp nail across her own neck cutting into the skin just deep enough to elicit the smallest drops of blood then laughed. She hadn't had a hand in that particular one but every death in that bloodline filled her with glee.

She relaxed a little and sent a telepathic communication to Stardust Solus Skirae <<I feel like having the cold breeze on my skin, I'm going to the gardens for a moment my love>> she spoke aloud while she sent the message so Maëlys could also hear her intention. She nodded politely to the muun woman and took her leave, walking out of the fine chambers and into the night air to look at the stars.

Corazona von Ascania Darth Xyrah Lady Venge Alina Tremiru Anak Darkstar Shasill Kaarte Darth Amarok

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

The back of her neck tingled a bit, turning fully to meet eye to eye with Darth Nwul from across the room, a grin formed on her face sensing ever so faintly that he didn't know what to think about the dragon herself. She offered him a wink and a bow of her head in respect to him before perking up as Asaaj En Kelsani whispered into her mind

of course. Let me come to you

She responded back and downed the rest of her drink before she moved easily through the crowd slowly and soon came to asaaj looking up at the night sky filled with stars

certainly this gathering is quite the bold one, isn't it my dear

She said coming alongside her as she stood and looked to the night sky, truthfully stardust hadn't been so interested in a group in awhile and found it refreshing there was change once again

this golden covenant seeks to break a cycle of bloodshed and murder within the sith, not to mention actually unite the world's under a actual cause...for once I am interested to see just what these sith will do perhaps it will bring some balance to the chaos

She muses to the witch hands behind her back as she looked down to her

what do you think asaaj my dear? Do you think that this open rebellion has a chance?

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

Tag: Darth Nwul | Darth Malum of House Marr | Corazona von Ascania | Darth Caedes [OPEN]
Location: Thule
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"Privacy is power. What people don't know? They can't ruin."
___________​

Surprise.

That was what she felt above all when her vision bent and broke beneath sudden movement that blocked her line of sight. The youthful debutant was caught in mid-step and a quiet warning ran down her spine that made her want to move again. Keep moving. Crimson orbs had finally caught sight of Malum between a wall of nobility…But he was otherwise engaged with a stylish blonde woman that she believed to be Corazona von Ascania . The name didn't mean much to the littlest Marr but she had heard it rolling among the guests. What did stand out…Was the unspoken. That which couldn't be easily seen, but could be felt, in whispering shadows.

Her alignment was blurred.

Sophia let her gaze refocus on the intruder for a moment with the rim of her wine glass pressed lightly against the line of perfectly sculpted lips. Intelligent eyes flickered upward and the realization that their host was standing before her was…Unexpected. With that knowledge came acceptance of his presence and she was forced to breathe slowly through her nose. Adjusting to a new power that was so easily saturated and steeped in the glom. She outwardly seemed unbothered…Delicately, sipping her wine.

As if he hadn't just publicly jarred her from stable moorings and thrown the entire congregation into nattering chaos with a few simple grandiose speeches. That was a skill in itself, she surmised.

Initially…She didn't reply. Darth Nwul had a boyish charm about him that she had scarcely seen among the elite members of their society. With his hands behind his back and lack of a formal retinue, she could only assume that he was the new element that had Jutrand buzzing in back corners. Not for his political aspirations as they had only just been truly revealed, simply, for being counted toward an unknown quota. Anything that wasn't part of the mundane routine of everyday operations was something to take note of. Interesting.

Malum had certainly described him well enough to make his sisters both wary and curious. (She was the curious one, of course.)

Finally, the stunning young woman offered the Sith Lord a precocious smile over the top of her glass. His presence was an enigma and his question lingered in the air with a whisper of intrigue. Most would drop everything, speak when spoken to, and give the Steward of the Darkside anything he wanted. There was power in a name. Power, in anonymity. With a playful twirl of her gown, Sophia passed her wine glass to an unsuspecting patron, uncaring, if they were a guest or servant. In the eyes of House Marr—They were all present to attend to her needs.

"…You're blocking the view."

Her expression melted into something forgiving, coquettish, and it allowed the truth of her joyful spirit to radiate through every breath. Her raven-black hair cascaded in lustrous waves that framed a heart-shaped face with an almost ethereal texture while she took a step forward. Closing the meager distance that decorum for one of her station might require. To be too near was to risk scandal. Her countenance danced naturally with the music between elegance, innocence, and rebellion. "Come now…The Herald just announced my name moments ago. I know that my House is not what it once was…"

"…But surely our current successes and holdings warrant some sort of recognition."

A Sith Lord that had announced grand plans of treason and unity in the same breath didn't know the names of his attendees? That was a stimulating turn of events. Either that…Or he was being polite in pretending to be unaware to make conversation… Or she was so very unknown, so unexceptional, that even being announced by name at the front door didn't spark the chance of a memory. None of these results were appealing to her and she reached out with a pleasant tilt of her head to find the crook of his elbow—Then to free his hand.

The seemingly gender-fluid would-be King would find soft fingers finding his while she led him away from the sidelines and back into a simple waltz. It was easy enough, with immense gestures hidden in calculated grace, moreover, burdened by a need to lengthen each step. The whole of the ballroom seemed to move with it. Shoulders smooth and parallel to the floor while the irony of their sophistication was doubled with the capacity of brutality. "You throw a beautiful party…", Sophia intoned, considerately, but with a purr of unspoken mischief. She toyed with the restrictions of chaos wrapped in elegance. More than that, she pressed the boundaries of what might have been considered respectful when addressing someone far more powerful than she was. And yet... Darth Nwul was the host.

It was within his duty to oblige the needs of his guests.

To turn her away ran the risk of losing support or at least secrecy for his grand design.

Were it any consolation these were the reasons (whether or not she believed them was up for debate) she would supply Malum should he inquire as to "what the hell" she was thinking when they spun deliciously gracefully past him and his flaxen-haired princess. Was not this man one of many (as well as the majority of the guests in attendance) that she had been warned away from? Sophia had an answer for that as well. But oh, dear brother. Would it not be rude for her to avoid socializing?

Would it not bring shame to House Marr?

"Thank you for the invitation."

Would it not be rude for her family not to thank their gracious host? Even if his designs were not fully realized in the moment there was still the event at hand to think of. The décor and the gathering, the expensive beverages, gifts, and what passed for polite conversation among their ranks. From the stories her siblings told…It was a rarity that everyone left with their spines intact in a function such as this. So far…That was an achievement.

The song was starting to shift.

Still…She hadn't given her name. Her movements were cultured and filled with confidence while her tone only offered a barely-there notion of whimsicality. Beneath that lay a clever mind. Her words were chosen with care, a tapestry of warmth, with threads of wit that were pressed smooth with subtle flirtation. Everything about her seemed designed to draw others in. To accept her less-than-endearing qualities because the whole of her made it worth every moment. "But I fear…"

"You are losing your pet Jedi."

The song ended and a new one started. This caused Sophia to fall into a delicate, customary curtsey, so smooth that it would have turned any ballerina green with envy. When her spine straightened and her eyes settled on the face of Darth Nwul her lips formed a teasing cheshire smile. Finally, the answer to his innocent and long-drawn-out query. "To my brother."

A pair of hands on her hips lifted her slightly for the next dance and she turned away from the Sith Lord with a laugh that breathed life and joy into an otherwise somber contingent. Her smile was infectious and she flashed one of infinite beauty toward the host of the party as she was swept off in a colorful blur of night and fire. Her dress spun out, footsteps immaculate, while she continued her path. Her goals for the evening were shaping up quite nicely. To be noticed. Seen for who she was.

And not forgotten.

 

[Asaaj En Kelsani]

Location: An unihabited system a few hundred light years from Thule before arriving at Thule
Objective: Visit the Gala
Tags: Stardust Solus Skirae but also open to interaction with anyone

Loadout

Asaaj looked up at the stars as she felt her wife place her hand in hers and come close. As her implant suppressed the void stone again, Asaaj felt the comforting heat around her. She pondered Star's words a little and let them hang in the air. "It is a little different isn't it, I'm not certain on this Nwul character yet, but it's fun to watch these things isn't it?

And as to his rebellion, perhaps it will fail perhaps it will succeed?

We thought my own family's dynasty on Ubelixa was untouchable, turns out we were wrong, anything is possible."

The witch began muttering incantations into the air, asking her ancestors to help her predict what might come, but such a casual spell would likely have little clear information, the darkness clouded most things. She gave a dismissive shake of her head before dismissing the mists and turning around to that she faced the Green woman. "What do you think the others might say to this, Cynthia Solus has never been a huge fan of the Sith to my knowledge, Jade Solus Skirae might enjoy the chance to get her hands blooded but....

...variety makes this bond interesting doesnt it?" Asaaj smiled and raised her eye brows.

"All this darkness is making me hungry" The darkening of her irises and the tightening of the skin above her incisors would tell Stardust exactly which hunger was rising in Asaaj about now.

Corazona von Ascania Darth Xyrah Lady Venge Alina Tremiru Anak Darkstar Shasill Kaarte Darth Amarok

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Please, call me Malum, Lord Marr is my father." And even if he was unworthy to hold the title, even if Malum had long since surpassed him, Malum knew his duty. Lord Alexandros held the eyes, he was a direct-line descendant of the great Darth Marr, and Malum knew his duty, as draining as his duty had always been. The son obeyed the father, the son served the father, and the son was subordinate to the father.

And if that ever changed, if he ever attempted to make that change.

He was but a usurper.

There were many a Marr out there, many a cousin, many an uncle, many a nephew.

If there was even a hint, even a whisper, that Malum usurped his place as Lord.

There would be a bloodletting in their family, in their house, that would never end.

So the son served, so the son advised, so the son remained behind the father's shadow.

Until that day, when he would rightfully take the father's place.

So instead Malum offered a smile, perhaps the first genuine friendly smile he offered the princess, as he finished his words, and twirled the Jedi around his finger, as the song demanded, before again, the waltz continued.

The smile could only grow wider as her words even elicited a well deserved chuckle out of him, moving closer to her, as she invited, and he heard her so well-guarded secret.

"Do not tell anyone, but I am a spy!"

"A spy! Clearly my friend Nwul has been betwixt by your seductive ways, after all, how else could a Jedi, of your... calibre, gain such close access to such a rising Sith like him?" He whispered in half-jest, side-eying those who looked at their closeness with suspicion, the very same suspicion he laid out to the Princess, after all, he said it in half-jest. It was an open question, how Darth Nwul had upon his arms the Princess of Ukatis, the Jedi padawan of the Grandmaster of their Order, and for Malum personally, the woman he had tangentially fought against on Exegol, Corazona von Ascania .

He had heard the official story of course, some up and coming acolyte, who was rewarded by an apprenticeship to the Shaper of all people, had captured the padawan, upon the conclusion of Darth Nwul's little operation upon Nwul. The fact that the Jedi were operating so close to the Old Sith Worlds, apparently gone beyond the remit of either of those who would care, the Kainites, or this new Covenant.

Thule should have been made a fortress world, preparing for the next Jedi incursion.

Instead they celebrated.

Now he was being slightly hypocritical, after all, he had been looking for an excuse to let loose.

Yet, Thule was not a Tsis'Kaar concern, he at least had an excuse.

He waved the thoughts away, as he felt a familiar presence in his mind, Nwul really needed to learn to keep within his remit, gather an army of followers, but declare war against the entire world, and you would lose.

And looking around the ballroom, it was obvious it was more than simply his House, which held reservations about his enterprise.

He turned his focus back on Lady Ascania, as she asked about his opinion on this enterprise.

"He'll fail," Malum simply said, their presence still close, as the friendly smile upon his features did not crack an inch, "It's an admirable goal, it's a goal I believe should be pursued... but he'll fail," The smile turned more teasing, almost as if Malum was resisting the urge to chuckle, "Don't you find it so odd how in our shared history, between Sith and Jedi, it seems a cycle exists? One century the Jedi shall be on top, the next, the Sith, over and over we spin, believing we are in charge of our own destinies and fates," Malum spoke wistfully, even spinning the woman, as if to illustrate his point, "Your Galactic Alliance has felled the Mawites, so again the Jedi, in whatever new form of the Galactic Republic remains standing... remains on top... the Galaxy remains unbalanced," He pressed forward, his eyes shining, seemingly wild, as they were inches apart, "So the Force will intervene, where light shines, darkness hides, balance will be restored, as it determines. The Sith, the Empire returns on top, after yet another war. And then, we decline, we fall, and the cycle goes again..." He looked past her, towards his sisters, his youngest, having broken off the pack, and for but a moment, he felt a pang, a need to end this and go to her, to make sure she was safe, yet he remained still. It would be rather rude to abandon his partner, "I should make myself clear, he might succeed, or some other Sith entirely, he might achieve his goals, or some other Sith will achieve theirs, but no matter what, we are locked into this cycle, and their dreams will turn to ash."

He took a step back, breaking off their closeness, yet still holding her as the dance required. His eyes returned to their normality, his teasing smile replaced with the genial, warm, and friendly. Where he once looked possessed by his words, he returned to himself.

All the while, the back of his ears dulled with the words which Nwul spoke.

It was as if the words were spoken directly to him.

And after all.

They were, weren't they?

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Nwul needed to learn that he would not have them all, for after all, look amongst the Sith, and you will find very little in common. They may believe in the supremacy of the darkside, they may believe in the code... yet that was about it. Each Sithling held their own view, held their own perspective, it was as if the core seed of the Order, rather than growing a single tree, vast, and overwhelming, instead from the ground itself, sprouted branches of a tree which did not exist. Such was the price of an order that prided itself on individual strength, an Order of individuals with all the traits to look at any supposed leader, and believe two contradictary truths.

They were worthy, and, what will it take to overthrow them?

Who the "they" and "them" were in those truths, was a mystery all in to itself.

Yet, what Nwul had to say did earn him at least a mental nod. So Nwul considered himself a reformer, rather than a revolutionary. Good.

It would no doubt annoy some who lived under the Emperor's visage, to play Empyrean's game, rather than simply invading Jutrand and being done with it.

Yet, of course, one did not wish to make a Covenant with those who even thought such a move was possible.

"Satisfied?"

Of course Malum had little time to consider that, as by his ear, a sultry sounded, and every urge in his body urged him to turn and confront the creature, which had caught him utterly unawares, caught him and taken his breath away.

Of course, it did not require a detective to learn who it was, nor one to quickly ascertain that the woman... the... woman? The man whomst looked like a woman? The man?

Nwul, he settled on Nwul.

It did not take a detective to ascertain who it was, nor that they had teleported away, as soon as Malum, dumbfounded, attempted to turn his neck to check.

Yet, it might have taken one to ascertain where he had went.

Thankfully Malum's eyes did a fine enough job, as he quickly found his teeth grinding, found his thoughts to his lightsabers, and found his eyes brimming with brimstone, as he saw his sister corned by his new friend.

His first thought was to excuse himself, rush forth, and stop... stop, whatever this was.

Actually that was inaccurate, that was his second thought.

His first thought was to rush forth, and... well it did not need saying.

Sophia of House Marr , Sophia, the youngest of his sisters, and for perhaps it only required that reason alone, for him to say, the sister he was closest to. TBA had always been distant... especially in his most recent memories, while Elise... was a Marr in name alone, always wishing to be free from that name, and Caecia... well Caecia had never forgiven him for the crime of being born, for shunting her out of her belived rightful place as heir.

They loved each other, he could say that truthfully, and rightfully. What siblings did not have friction, yet he could say again truthfully and rightfully, that friction had never existed with Sophia. She would always be his younger sister, but unlike Julia, without the distance. They were close, he had always made it a policy to bring her back something from his travels, though that was perhaps more due to her demands, than his willingness... though he was still very willing. Where Caecia had taken her position as ice queen as naturally as it came, Sophia had always been a princess, and he her knight, very ironic considering they were both knights now. Yet what that meant in the end was, he would protect her, protect her from anything.

And Nwul certainly counted as among them.

A friend indeed.

But not worthy of his sisters.

Yet he stood still. Some protector he turned out to be, for the first second he blamed his flight or fight response, the next second he willed himself to make an excuse to Corazona and move, the third second he considered if a Dopplegänger might be summoned out of him to do what he seemed to be unable.

Lava burned out of his eyes, as he watched them converse, they grew even brighter, as he saw her hands within his.

Yet he still did nothing, but waltz with a princess.

It was the next second he had the sudden realisation, the one which had turned his anger, the one which burned roughly in his chest, to some... resigned peace.

She was a knight. She no longer needed his protection. She knew how to play this game.

Nwul had wanted the protective brother, and he simmered underneath the edge, so close to simply tilting over, and burning them all in righteous fury.

Yet Malum kept him contained, he was trained for this. He had trained his entire life for this. There was no need to lose control.

So instead, as he watched them waltz from the corner of his eye, the rest of his focus fell upon the Princess of Ukatis.

"It seems one my sisters has decided that quietness shall not be her sound," Malum spoke with feigned friendliness, as he unconsciously took their dance closer to the other most popular couple on the ballroom floor, "Tell me, Corazona, if I might be allowed to call you that, if you are a guest here, a widow far from your home, it would be most improper for you to remain without chaperon," The woman was an adult, for all his education, for him she could do whatever she wished... yet would the nobles see it that way? "We are nobility here, yes, but even I will be the first to admit some Sith are... rather beyond civility. My House would not be opposed to making a habit of taking upon wards, and I would desire nothing more than to guarantee your safety." Malum spoke, hoping that he was able to convey the truth of his words, for though he to a degree wished to make Nwul envious, it was simply a fact that she was unsafe her, and... and... whether it curse him or not, he had already let two Jedi padawans free, ones he had captured himself, why not a third?