Legends foretold of Dust or Gold | Mandragora, CIS

[Er'in Tenel]

The Force was a sea. Dark and Light, Deep and Shadow. A thousand colours and none at all. Mountains and lakes. Valleys. A thousand, a billion stars. It was everything and nothing at once. A paradox that sought control yet guided all actions. It hurt to look upon, yet look upon it she had, time and time again since she had reached this place with her artifact. If only she stared long enough into the abyss, perhaps she might understand it.

(No one ever accused a Tenel of under-achievement or not aiming far, far too high on your first shot, after all.)

Er'in wept, and wished she understood with all the fire in her heart. She could not go back until... until... until... she could prove her voice.

The vision was a nightmare, a dream and mundane all at once. She could feel others of power - there the Sith Emperor, who she kept beneath the attention of, there her Master and there... was that now? Was that then? Was that...

[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

Nightmother.

Oh. That must be then, or now. She would watch. The Mirr shifted beneath her hands and her touch, burning with fire and envy, amplifying the power of one who was well below the rank of Master until... the world blurred, Er'in struggled for control, to slip now would be to crush her soul into the Force and burn.

'There is no colour and all colours. Peace and wroth are shades with which to paint. Paint, child.'

She had never been sure if that had been one of the Ones Who Had Gone Before - if they were even real, or simply her inexplicable guide playing a trick on her - she was descended from a line of power, but she was hardly a Solo - they were all dead. The Ang-tii did not speak truths to her so easily. But Velok, he had taught her to pain with blood and with flesh, to be an artist of hate to guide the mind.

And passion. And while she might not be able to quantify her feelings for Kat and the others, they were strong enough to paint in time and space with, if you had the right levers.

With a snap, a figure appeared in the shadows at the back of the room - Er'in wasn't entirely sure why she was naked, maybe some perverse appropriate theme for the situation - she wasn't entirely sure how she was here either. But the ground felt real beneath her feet, the burning strain in her heart to sustain what was both more and less than a projection at the same time.

She padded forward to the back of the group on bare feet, she was still reasonably sure touching that book was what she might describe as a sub-optimal choice, unless the spirits decided they needed a trickster. But perhaps there was something to this idea of Force Entities - spirits or ones who had gone before - and she was one hundred percent certain if the Nightmother didn't want her here - or the spirits didn't want her here - even with the power of the Mirr and her limited understanding of alien force techniques, she wouldn't be here.

 

[Lief]

The voice had led her this far.

Meri was not particularly strong willed for the most part. She was one who had been forced to serve, to listen and obey, who had been told that her voice was inferior, and yet in the weeks following her liberation from the Nebula she the voices had gotten to the point wherein she could ignore them no longer.

Though it had been a difficult task, the girl had logged several hours thinking over each and every word she could possibly say to [member="Darth Metus"] in order to convince him to bring her here, eventually she had managed to broker the question to her Grandfather. Of whether or not she was permitted to seek answers to the questions which had arisen, to follow that which she felt certain was of great import.

She wasn't crazy.

Right?

He had looked at her curiously, almost as though he knew more than he was willing to let on, before making the necessary arrangements to have her brought to Ryloth. At least he did not think she was insane. That was a good start.

When she disembarked the vessel she had been surprised to find life in the near distance. She was not alone, it seemed, was not the only one to have heard... And yet she felt alone in her journey all the same. As though her place here was not to exchange pleasantries with others, but instead to delve deeper.

She ventured through the harsh landscape, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket so that she could fidget without it being too obvious. Meri did not like this, the feeling she had within her, as though she was being led on, guided by some unseen hand. Her whole life had been controlled by outside forces, and now that she had her freedom she was not so certain she wished to experience more of the same.

Coming upon the structure, she noticed the altar and felt her breath catch within her throat. Her legs felt heavy, until she was no longer standing at all but instead was knelt. Though there were others around her the child did not notice them, did not pay them any mind at all.

Though at the same time she truly did not understand what was happening.

[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

 

[Romano Shamalain]

Romano’s arms were folded across his chest as he watched the events unfold before him like a play upon a broadway stage. Formality and an undeniable dignity filled the air as the crowd has gathered before the alter. He was dressed as casually as one would expect of an off-worlder; more so given that he had arrived at a ceremony. This was where instinct had kicked in. Years of prior training from the Shamalain family began clicking. Rear of the group but not so far back as to be immediately noticed. Eyes catching peripheral shadows every few moments with only the slightest of head turns for clarity. Nose sniffing for the unfamiliar, eyes catching the sight of the newest visuals.

Then she appeared. To say the sapphire of her eyes were vibrant would not have done them justice. A richness in color that could give his own fathers a run for their money. They stood out to Romano, whom always fixated on the oculars of another. Some believed that the eyes were the window to one’s soul; a belief this Shamalain still held onto. Words could deceive. Gestures would mislead. Eyes? They never lie. They revealed the darkest truths and intentions of each person. For Romano, what the woman spoke, she believed. Each word.

The site the people had gathered was sacred. Romano felt is through the force. Though Ryloth had always had some connection to the force that ebbed and weaned throughout time, this particular part was the strongest he had felt since arriving on the planet. Life always had a connection but this area, these people, had a special connection all to their own. Three pillars grew alit and then names began to be called. Romano watched each person as they ascended to touch what would have looked like a book to any uneducated monkey but to Romano, he knew full well what it actually was. A grimoire.

Each person that ascended seemed to change. It wasn’t any new physical abnormalities they might have received that fixated Romano’s interest but instead their postures and gestures. Each person seemed different after their portion of the ritual had ended. Each changed. Why? How? The analytical side of Romano worked overdrive as his mind began to comprehend what he was seeing.

This woman, whom seemed to lead this particular ceremony watched over each person like a Guardian over their steed. Through it all, Romano gained enough knowledge to understand… unseen spirits were involved here. The newcomer was no fool. Rituals were a highly symbolic process and those gathered for them devoutly loyal to whatever or whomever they worshipped. He’d play it safe. He wouldn’t rock any boats. He had his own reasons for coming.

As the ceremony continued, Romano averted his gaze and placed two digits to his forehead and lightly tapped. He could feel it happening again. The invasion of his mind. The indiscernible voices crept carefully through the otherwise impenetrable mental defenses of Romano. Defenses built over time by the likes of his Grandmother, Mother, and Sister had ensured the man was not susceptible to mind games. Yet these voices, since landing on Ryloth, had been whispers in the shadows of his mind. As they subsided, his fingers raked his hair from his eyes. The lad regained composure before returning his attention to the scene unfolding.

Oh how the scene had changed.

In his momentary internal battle, the man had failed to feel the change in the force. There had been an arrival of more life, dangerous life, to the gathering. Rytholi Rancors stood side to side, eyes locked upon the group. Romano himself had never seen a Rytholi Rancor. To him they’d always been legend. Heard of but never seen and yet, here stood many. The atmosphere of the gathering seemed to lighten as those present began to bond with the beasts.

Through all of it, while some eyes of those darted from one to another, others locked onto the rancors, Romano stood vigilant. He did his best to familiarize himself with faces and the names he heard. He did what he could to try and formulate snap judgements based on the interactions he witnessed. This was all… so damn interesting .

Pulling out his small communicator, Romano whispered. “Head back to Honoghr and resupply. I’m going to be staying awhile.”

‘Sire?’

The indistinguishable voices forced their way into his head. A slew of whispers so tangled up no singular word could be deciphered.

“The voices have gotten stronger since I have arrived. Once I figure out what is going on, I’ll contact you.”

‘As you wish.’

 

[Minerva Vessia]

Location: Alter of Spirits
Objective: Locate and find the presence of other Dathomri on Ryloth.

For a time, the clans of Dathomir had been gravely wounded. Minerva was one of the lucky one to be off planet, when it was attacked by Mandalorian fanatics. What was left, she desperately wished to cling to. Find them, she must!

The path was clear. It was dirt and small pebbles, but it was clear. The path was clear enough to see the group gather ahead with rancors? Minerva, being a Witch of Dathomir was very familiar the creatures, many where like family. This scene here as she walked up the path, reminded her of her home.

[member="Bundori "]was somewhere close behind. But Minerva was looking up ahead of her. Up a head where the three standing stones stood, there close by the alter, and there was a grimoire.

Through pink pastel lips words flowed through Mini. From the distance she was to the others, the exact words were not clear. Those who knew the dialect would know it was Dathomiri, and it was a spell.

Upon the last syllable last sung her feet left the ground. The petite little witch floated through the air. Up to near the standing stone and then her feet touched back upon the ground. Her every movement danced with glee as she moved her fingers in the air, as if touching something unseen.

She heard the beckoning call to the tome. For now she did not come. She was studying the very aspect of magic of this place.


[member="Romano Shamalain"] [member="Meri Vi'dreya"] [member="Erin Tenel"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Arabella Darkhold"] [member="Rex Taff"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="William the Bloody"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"]

 

[Bundori]

[member="Minerva Vessia"]

"Sister wait up." She said it and the pink haired girl was looking at the back of her head as she held the Scylla Sith Sword on her shoulders. Looking to take a moment. Minerva well she wanted to meet more witches since great great great great great great great great great great great grandmother Petra wasn't around to teach them and show them everything. That was a lot of greats before she was moving around with a few ideas in her mind about what they may be able to do. "We aren't in a rush, the spirits and magic will still be there when we arrive. Lets just take a breat... these heels are prettybut ah not made for walking around.

 

[Minerva Vessia]

“Bundori”, yes Mini heard her, “Come on”, looking at her sister now she waved at the pink hair witch.

“You need to come see this. Also, I need you to touch this book”, ok Mini was certain the book was safe.

What could go wrong, right? Is there anybody wondering how [member="Bundori "]’s hair turned pink?

 

[Maple Harte]

Maple had been getting used to riding on scoops head. The Rancor was unusually quiet, even snorting very little. And despite its size, it even seemed to move a little quieter, almost deliberately. An animal after her own heart.

You seem to be getting along with the life of the desert. Doashim noted from within. This is quite pleasing.

I've always had a soft spot for animals.

I see you're a fan of jungle cats.

The one animal that invites the easiest comparisons to those strong in the Force.

Really? Thats how you see it?

Says the spirit whose whole part and parcel is that of the predator.

I'm not saying its a bad comparison Uri. Merely that there are better predators to compare against.

A conversation for later, at length.

Whats wrong with now? Not like I'm going anywhere. Your mind is...distracting...

Maple continued the comparison with the spirit, even as Scoop gestured that he wanted to let her off. She hopped off once he gently allowed her onto his hand and she stroked the animals hard nose for a second before heading back, both to Veronika as well as watching who else got that surge of juice through them touching Katrine's super-book. No wait, that was called a grimoire. Super Books where the work of the little people who lived under her bed and occasionally AND NEVER rewired her nervous system so she would play autotuned pop songs. They smelled like noodles. Unsalted ones. She didn't know what those smelled like until she did.

I couldn't even follow that last bit that played out with you. the spirit within rumbled in deep voiced annoyance.

Don't worry. I didn't either. Maple thought back, happily rejoining the others, Scoop actually followed but kept a decent distance from the full gathering.

 

[Bundori]

[member="Minerva Vessia"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Erin Tenel"]

Bundori looked at her sister and raised an eyebrow at the thing her sister wanted her to do... "I remember what happened the last time you asked me to touch something." She said it and crossed her arms while her sword was on her back and looked at her sister. "My hair is stil pink and I am fairly certain I am not supposed to burp bubbles." She had a grin on her face though since it was her sister and Minerva was many things.... adorable, stylish.... but she wouldn't harm her sister.... permanently.. burning her hair off or writing on her face when she fell asleep sure but wouldn't hurt her. Their mommies Shinju and Dharma would be very cross and were known to eat those who displeased them. Bundori moved forward and touched the book. "If my hair goes some other color.. I am going to make you pay." She said it while sticking her tongue out."

 

[Minerva Vessia]

Minerva waited, she watched…she studied.

Bundori’s raised eyebrow, the defiant crossing of arms. She was being defensive! Minerva scoffed was about to defend what she may or may have not done. She almost stomped a foot in a fit. HOW DARE SHE BRING THAT UP!

Bundori smiled though. They were sisters and there was more than just a bond of blood. Instantly that smile melted any anger that Minerva may have just been feeling.

It was about playful jesting now when Bundori stuck her tongue out. “If it changes color we can always dye it back to pink you big baby”, Mini was laughing now.

Though Bundori was moving to touch the book now! Minerva’s eyes shifted back calculating every aspect she could see and feel through the Force.
The spirits within the sky began to shift. She could almost hear their words as they spoke. It was a whisper through the Force. Even though she did not hear the words, Minerva believed she may understand.

The book, the pages were blank. However Minerva did notice something when Bundori touched the book. Things that could not be seen with normal sight, something happened unseen. Years of experience with communing with the Dathomiri Spirits. Mysterious green ichor Dathomiri often used. Minerva has had more than just experience. She knew how to harvest the ichor she knew methods on how to use it. This book was made with the very same principles.

Minerva watched in glee. She found the connection of Dathomir she had been looking for. After Bundori it would be her turn to take hold tightly. Minerva was so excited she could hardly breathe!

@Bundori

 

[Bundori]

[member="Minerva Vessia"]

Bundori was looking at her sister for the time who wasn't touching it and she touched the book, grasping it for a moment before the feeling came to her. She could guess that the force would be there but she hadn't been expecting this before she backed up a little holding it with both hands and her eyes were glowing. She could fel it in the force and with the spirits beofre she was speaking and practically vibrating. "Sister I am going to get you for this." She didnt' know what was happening and standing there she could feel it as something was on her arm intricately coming. A tattoo that went on her shoulder and down her arm, then across her chest. Looking at Minerva as she wasn't certain what had happened.. but she looked at herself and could feel weight on her chest. She rolled over on the ground. "Ow..... my head... is my hair still the same color.... I fel like I swallowed a bug."

 

[Minerva Vessia]

@Bundori

“Your hair is still pink”, Minerva knelt down next to her sister. “No need to get me for this Bundori”, Mini was about to explain.

“You just joined one of the Dathomiri Covens. You will not be alone as I will join to. I feel it. It is time. I feel it is time for the Dathomiri to rise again. I think I even feel, maybe Great Grandma Petra string?”

Minerva reached out to help Bundori back up to her feet. “Are you ready for me to touch the book next”, she asked her sister….

 

[Bundori]

[member="Minerva Vessia"]

"Maybe." She was looking at her shoulder and the black tattoo was something different until she was hearing Minerva and squinted at her. "Maybe I look that same but we know what happened the last time you were messing with spells..... Now Mommies have to explain how one of us is atrisian looking and not dathomiri." She said it sticking her tongue out though and held the book out to her sister before moving back and picking up her chainsword. her bottle of spirit ichor and a few other things that they would all be able to work on. Bundori backed up a little until she was certain nothing from her sister wasn't going to explode.. or her hair was going to turn like puprple.. or fall out.