Ashin Varanin
Professional Enabler
Picture this as one more vignette about one more derivative creation, and you won't be disappointed. As tales go, this one is far from complete. It's an interlude or a cross-sectional slice or a web caught between a dozen tales. It's a point of rare and not-entirely-perfect intersection.
Ashin Varanin, former Dark Lord of the Sith, voluntarily Force severed, now a Jedi Knight again -- and de facto guardian of Korriban. Fond of heavy armor and powerful weapons. Her sword Winterlight tasted the blood of eldritch gods and Masters of every stripe. She sold the sword at a Tatooine swap meet.
She's here on Korriban forging another.
Korriban is a terrible place to forge, she's told, but those who say it'll contaminate her don't know the world like she does. There's nothing evil about Korriban; it's a place of memory, tragedy, opportunity, and uncompromising reality. Ascetic, for a death world. Death by tuk'ata, by pelko, by terentatek -- par for the course. With a collection of sniper rifles and a nest on the Valley's temple, she joins the pantheon of local killers. She knows the world down to her bones, and knows there's no harm in giving this destruction-monument a taste of creation.
Hammer, forge, tongs and bellows are easily found, ingots too; she was once an alchemist, once ruled an empire from this world. The crystal she chooses is a simple adegan variety from a Padawan's broken lightsabre. The process is that of a Force-imbued blade, nothing immensely special, a millennia-old prelude to the protosabre, rediscovered from half a dozen sources in the modern era. She's stripped to the waist save for a breast band and a leather apron, in the golden-sand courtyard behind the Temple. Smoke rises in a pillar, tugging the hammer with it, faltering again and again. The hammer keeps falling.
She knows she's not alone. Korriban, she feels, should be a solitary experience, and she suspects the planet feels the same way, if for other reasons. Whatever the factors, she knows when she has company. She knows this world that well.
[member="Sarge Potteiger"]
Ashin Varanin, former Dark Lord of the Sith, voluntarily Force severed, now a Jedi Knight again -- and de facto guardian of Korriban. Fond of heavy armor and powerful weapons. Her sword Winterlight tasted the blood of eldritch gods and Masters of every stripe. She sold the sword at a Tatooine swap meet.
She's here on Korriban forging another.
Korriban is a terrible place to forge, she's told, but those who say it'll contaminate her don't know the world like she does. There's nothing evil about Korriban; it's a place of memory, tragedy, opportunity, and uncompromising reality. Ascetic, for a death world. Death by tuk'ata, by pelko, by terentatek -- par for the course. With a collection of sniper rifles and a nest on the Valley's temple, she joins the pantheon of local killers. She knows the world down to her bones, and knows there's no harm in giving this destruction-monument a taste of creation.
Hammer, forge, tongs and bellows are easily found, ingots too; she was once an alchemist, once ruled an empire from this world. The crystal she chooses is a simple adegan variety from a Padawan's broken lightsabre. The process is that of a Force-imbued blade, nothing immensely special, a millennia-old prelude to the protosabre, rediscovered from half a dozen sources in the modern era. She's stripped to the waist save for a breast band and a leather apron, in the golden-sand courtyard behind the Temple. Smoke rises in a pillar, tugging the hammer with it, faltering again and again. The hammer keeps falling.
She knows she's not alone. Korriban, she feels, should be a solitary experience, and she suspects the planet feels the same way, if for other reasons. Whatever the factors, she knows when she has company. She knows this world that well.
[member="Sarge Potteiger"]