L O S T
Initial Session
Bastion Shadow Forge
Nightfall
The vibrations caused of hammer striking metal rang across the anvil and permeated the air in sickening rings which crescendoed through the high vaulted, well ventilated room. Plumes of smoke rose and disappeared at the vast height of the ceiling, the end of which was unseen to all save those with formidable eyesight. The blindingly bright orange glow of heated tungsten and ferrosteel plagued the vision of the forger who stood straight backed and poised, working away in a meditative state. The alloy itself was not one of her own creation, in truth she had learnt the combination from one of her former Masters and it had proven a useful mixture until now. Each strike hit hard and true, metal folding continually until it became difficult to recall the number count one was on, that is to any observer. But for the woman who dealt the blows each number was integrated in her mind; heat, fold, hammer... The movement meditation brought about from the soothing actions was largely hypnotic, induced by the constant flow of the Force working its way through her body, her muscles and in turn through into the metallic creation upon her anvil, all of which happened largely without her guidance, as she had found out the very first day she had begun her training in metallurgy. The Force worked in mysterious ways, even a Sith could note as much even if many begrudged admitting it.As night fell upon Bastion the woman did not cease in her endeavours; three hundred strikes had been made, three hundred folds, three coolings, she was already half way there. Sweat had begun to bead upon her brow at around 200 strikes, which compared to her first few attempts was an achievement in itself. Slowly but surely she had started to erase the physical weakness she had held for two decades, long shifts and heavy work at the forge softly beginning to tone her body and give her endurance the likes of which she had never before held. But she was far from the possible peak; no, that would take further time and training outside of hard labour. Once upon a time she had forged a mask under the watch of one @[member='Daxton Bane'], but that had been over half a decade ago, and since then she had not halted in her endeavours towards acquiring the knowledge of Alchemy. True, it had not fully passed the stages of Metallurgy yet, something she hoped to account for in the near future with biological manipulation, but her lessons had been adhered to and her knowledge and ability had grown profoundly. That which rested upon her anvil now, softly being moulded into a design of her choosing, would be a reminder of her first session, a mask in its own right, yet for an entirely different purpose than the initial.
The Shadow Order requires shadows indistinguishable from the rest. And so it shall be, created in a visage not their own nor my own, reflective of a past long since gone. Oh, it was not truly her own design, but instead a replica, or replicas, of Darth Nihilus' own creation. Why not draw upon the past, take from it a familiar sight and mould it into something entirely different. It would ensure their disclosure, and if nothing else the sight of such would be intimidating to say the least. But the mask which lay before her, only half complete, was but one of many to be forged. Four Masters to account now for, four Knights not myself included, all requiring the guise of the Shadow Sith. It would be a long few weeks, but over all it would prove beneficial. Then there was still the effort of having robes created, crystals synthesised... Once the initial labour is over, any additional requirements will be much easier to process. And thus the Knight pressed on, safe in the knowledge that her endeavours were not for nothing. Long into the night the sound of hammer striking metal, reverberating from the anvil, could be heard throughout the lower floor of the Palace. There was indeed no rest for the wicked.