Legends foretold of Dust or Gold | Mandragora, CIS

[Veronika Fleischer]

"My turn then," the blonde took another graceful sip of the cognac and walked over to the unusual book laid out at the altar. She had seen the markings made by the spirits when the others touched the grimoire, some of them not exactly the most pleasant looking. However Jart was supposed to give her a tattoo, which made things more appealing. Her right reached out of the book, touching the cover and flipped it open. The pages flipped through quickly, strange murmurs filling her ears. She saw darkness. A pair of eyes glittered in the distance, its beak opening for a loud shriek. The spirit manifest of Jart was beckoning her to step forward.

A foot. Another. The third. The bird looked at her with its beady eyes, its claws reaching out for the bottle of cognac in her hand. She grinned, opening the liquor and let the bird of prey drink its fill.

"I thank you, little one," Jart spoke aloud in her mind.

"For the cognac? That's nothing," she raised her eyebrow in response. "Now, what's next?"

"Now? You shall dream... "

******​

The tall looming building stood in front of her. Inside the very building was the throne room, the symbol of power of the Empire. It seemed like Thistle was definitely well prepared for the coup, as scores of Stormtroopers were gathered outside the entrance of the building.

"An Imperial Throne?"

Veronika looked at herself for a moment. An Imperial agent uniform. Since when she became an Imperial? More importantly, somehow she knew that there was something important she needed to do. To find the Empress of the Empire, whoever she was. The agent took a few steps and unsurprisingly, was halted by one of the white tin men, presumably a captain that was in charge of the rest.
"This area is out of limits for the moment, agent."

"Why? Did something happened to the Empress?"

A question with an answer that Veronika already knew. But she had to ask it, for the sake of confirming that the intelligence was correct, and to listen to the entertaining answer which the trooper would give her.

"The Empress is busy for the moment, she is refusing to see any visitors until further notice. Now move along-"

"Well you know that the IBI only answers to the Empress directly. I'm not under the military's orders. I have something important that requires the Empress' attention."

"Don't push your luck, agent."

The blonde felt her anger rising, her eyes widened in annoyance. How dare they stop her, an Imperial agent of the Empire. Empire? But she never remembered part of the Empire. This was a weird dream, alright. If this was a test, so be it. No one would stop her and the Mandragora. She casually waved her hand in front of the white tin man. "I have an important message. You shall let me pass."

"You have an important message. I shall let you pass," the trooper responded in a robotic voice, falling under influence of her power.

"Move along."

"Move along, move along."

"Trust me, I will..." she laughed haughtily and walked past the captain unchallenged, stepping towards...

******​

Reality.

Veronika found herself standing in front of the girimoire again, sweat dripping from her forehead. A tattoo in the shape of a flying bird was newly formed on her inner right forearm. Veronika took a step back from the altar and poured another mouthful of liquor in her mouth. She cursed under her breath, wondering what sort of strange dream she had just gotten herself into.

"Not a dream, really. More like an experience from the multiverse," the voice of Jart echoed strongly in her mind.

"Multiverse? Next you will be telling me I'm living in a virtual reality world..." Veronika replied with dripping sarcasm and left the altar, trying not to think too much about the whole surreal experience. She shook her head while walking past [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] and found her way back to [member="Maple Harte"]. She would love to ask Maple what she had experienced after touching the girimoire.

 

[Maple Harte]

As soon as [member="Veronika Fleischer"] came down from the alter Maple strolled up to her almost giddy.

"Sooooo...met Doashim. Hit it off. Got this weird brand! Katrine is in a dress! I saw a Sith Lord offer cakes on an alter! He looks completely scary! He probably does scary stuff, even! Why, only thing that could make this any stranger is if all the real Doashim did a jig!"

She looked expectantly at the actual pack of Doashim. They only stared back.

"Ah. I see. Still being creepy. Good for you." she said slyly to the pack, giving them two thumbs up.

She turned back to Veronika. "Sooooo...what did you see? I saw fragments of memories floating around and stuff. Probably enough to make a puzzle."

 

[Veronika Fleischer]

"I see, so you met Doashim. Must have been quite a ride," the blonde glanced at the marking on [member="Maple Harte"]'s wrist. Whether it was coincidence or not, her own tattoo ended up on the inner right forearm as well. Maple had said she hit it off with her spirit patron, so she guessed the conversation should be rather pleasant, despite how Doashim looked. She glanced at the nearby pack, trying to figure out how they would sound like if they actually talked. Unfortunately, she would have to imagine because she was aligned with Jart.

"Fragments of memories? Interesting. I didn't see any memories..." Veronika frowned, not sure how she should explain. She was confused by the experience herself, with Jart claiming that it was not a dream. He said it was an experience from the multiverse.

"In fact, I experienced a memory instead. It felt like a dream, but it was too real to be one."

A chuckle from Jart in her mind, an indication that she was correct.

"There was a coup happening within the Galactic Empire. The Empress was in danger and I was on my way to help her, dressed up as an Imperial agent. It's a very strange phenomenon because the current Empire does not have any Empress. I have never joined the Empire either. But I am quite sure that was me," she said, pausing for a moment. Could she be experiencing the life of her sister? Unlikely, considering her sister was too free spirited to joined a fascist regime.

"It was me, and yet it was not me. I was another Veronika living in another galaxy. Perhaps multiverses do exist, who knows."

She shrugged her shoulders, taking another drink but did not swallow down the cognac. She smiled at Maple, leaning her face over and kissed her lover again. this time letting the liquor flow into the brunette's lips. Why she did that, she had no idea. She just felt it was fun to do so, especially going through all the crazy experiences and deep talk about memories.

 

[Muad Dib]

He leapt from his lofty perch within the cliffs to land in a crouch upon the stone foothills of the mount. Stone cracked under foot as he straightened and moved through the crowd as the pack of doashim still in the ledges above howled with glee. They felt the presence of the Patron as if the great Spirit were communing with them. A chorus that swept the sacred place.

Walking forward he paused by [member="Daxton Bane"] and nodded to the other man. War was his birthright, battle was in his blood. Doashim had plans for the powerful master. Muad saw it unfolded within his mind and fought the temptation to tell him of the future blood letting that would soon be given him.

Moving once more he neared [member="Maple Harte"] and looked at her, feeling the Patron within speak of the killer that resided beneath the facade of beauty. Death had been a part of her in the past. And soon, her future. A diverging if paths lay before the woman, some led to her demise, some led to her undoing, and some led to understanding that had yet alluded her.

To his other side was [member="Anya Malvern"]. Doashim had seen past the physical to the core of who she was, as had he. She was more then just a shell, for beneath it lay the truth if who she was. A strong woman who would not break, would not yield. She had endured the fires of the forge, the hammering that shaped her. Whether she knew it or not, she was worthy.

Eyes turned to [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] as she stood. Nightmother. She had survived the trials, overcome the obstacles. She was chosen. She had been claimed. Now she was connected to the Patrons, and through them to the rest of the Mandragora. He felt his charges, his brother's and sisters of Doashim. She felt all. It was a heavy burden and responsibility. One that each of the chosen Shamans would help her bear. A smirk crossed his face as he raised two fingers to lightly touch his brow in a gesture to the small blonde.

"Buir."

The Mandragora had been founded. Now it was time to grow.

 

[Daxton Bane]

In the brief interlude when their eyes met, Daxton returned the nod to [member="Muad Dib"]. No words needed to said, for they were men of action. When the clarion cry of battle resounds through the air, it was clear they would be among the first to answer. War was blood to the them, it was what tied them together deeper than bonds of blood or kinship could possibly ever do.

While Daxton could not read his own future so clearly, he knew well enough that this was were he was supposed to be.

 

[Damien Van-Derveld]

Ryloth, another place Damien was unfamiliar with. Like [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] he had grown up on a world full of witches. His life had been given to the study of the force, and his initiation had seen him marked with tattoos. This was another initiation, and the Grimoire was ready for him. Damien was ready for it.

He looked to his cousin and gave her a nod. She was the Nightmother. The spirits had bonded with her, all of them.

Damien walked up to the stand and placed his hand as he watched the others do. His tunic clapped slightly in the breeze as he did so. In an instant there were voices.

He is a predator.
There is a stealthy hunter within him.
A crafty wolf...

”I am predator, a hunter, a wolf. I am as one with it as it is with me. We are the same.”

Suddenly Damien felt the wolf in him surge to life. A vision of the hunt, the kill, the blood, flooded into his sight. He smiled at the thought of the thing he loved about being a wolf the most. Doashim was before him. There was a burning sensation on his left pectoral. Damien gripped it. He had been branded.

Stepping down, Damien took his place with others. He had been claimed as a warrior, a killer, a hunter.

[member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"]

 

[Asher Mossa]

Asher found himself among another group. He sighed. How could he think that this was the right path for him? Every time he connected to a group of people they died, brutal and gruesome deaths. His life was haunted by the curse he carried inside him. Born on the winter solstice he was supposed to do great things. His exploits were supposed to be mighty. Instead he was running, moving from clan to clan, group to group, hovel to hovel, trying to outrun this curse which followed him.

He stood at the fire. It was his turn. The book lay open, the Grimoire called to him. The only difference between this time and all the others was how right this felt. The spirits called to him. He had heard them speak.

“Come Winterborn… come to us…”

Their voices as one echoed in his mind. As he approached the tome he was supposed to touch it was as if he had been pulled to it. A calloused hand fell in place. It was rough, visible scar tissue from many battles and work projects littered his hands in places.

In a moment he was back on a farm, working the field. It was spring. He was plowing the loamy soil. The breeze blew across his face, carrying his hair with it. His eyes followed the direction it blew to a house not too far off in the distance. He knew this home.

The plow was dropped as he ran for the home. This had to be a memory, but it seemed so real. Asher ran pleading to the spirits for just one glimpse of his wife and son, they had been lost to him. He had been foolish enough to think he could settle and find love, only for the curse to find him again. When the door was pushed open the cabin was empty save for three spirits.

"He is strong and fit. There is fight within him.”
"His mind is sharp, but troubled, it must be redeemed."
"Yes, I cannot take him. His mind is too polluted by his grief.”

“He loves to be alone, secluded. That does not make for a good soldier, not one that must work with others. I will not take him.”

In a flash there was only one spirit which stood before him, that of the Lylek.

”This curse you believe you carry, It has driven the others from claiming you. They think it makes you weak.”

“Perhaps they are right. Maybe I am?”

The spirit shook his head. ”Yet your hands, your posture, the jagged scars on you face, they speak to strength, courage, combat. You have known loss and you still walk among the living. You have answered our call. Why shouldn’t you be chosen? For the reasons they have rejected you… that is why I choose you.”

A flash of light struck Asher’s eyes then everything went dark. When his eyes opened he was on the ground. His shoulder throbbed. There was pain which travelled to just above his elbow on this right arm. Asher picked himself up and took his place among the others chosen by Lylek. He would not roll up his sleeve to look. He knew the pain he felt. It was a deep cut, they kind which left a scar. Asher had been marked and needed no confirmation.

[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"][member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

 

[William the Bloody]

The force called to him as he sat on the throne within Hunvar's Spire. Stirring slightly he stared into the distance, eyes unseeing as he felt the pull. Fingers tapped upon the stone armrest as he debated internally if he was truly wanting to follow the thread that wove about him in the force. He cared little for this Confederacy, the Obsidian, or the found Mandragora. Yet the call was unmistakable within his spirit. Did he wish to go or was he answering a summons? Because the young man did not do summons as his grandfather had learned. The memory brought a gleaming smile to his face for a moment, which caused the twilek dancers who were currently entertaining his guests to think he approved of their show.

A dismissive wave as he rose was cast to both the entertainment and his guests as he made his way to the spiral staircase and three levels above. Moving through his quarters he went to the balcony and looked out upon the city spread out before him. He held no office nor official role of authority, and yet these were his subjects, tied to him in one way or another. So was he following this call because of a weakness or a resigned curiosity?

Moving down the exterior stairs he went down to the courtyard and climbed into one of his decadent speeders. As he left the facility and the city he followed the sense he was receiving in the force, a beacon that sang to him. Across the sands the speeder swept until hours later he had reached a gathering of people. Parking the speeder he exited and straightened his leather jacket before pushing into the crowd to satisfy his curiosity.

The people of the Mandragora were there, many he had seen in his private files. There, upon a stone, he saw the source of the call. A convergence of power. A gateway into another realm. Frowning slightly he watched as person after person joined a procession, each getting a physical marring as a presence flared with each choosing.

Unbidden his steps moved his lithe form forward to the altar and the grimoire that rested there. Reaching out a hand he looked across from where he stood, at the blonde he recognized as being their religious leader. His hand paused before making contact as he questioned if this was a path he wished to take. Religious zeal, being part of something more then what you were alone, having ties that united you with others. A place to belong and people you could grow close to.

Slowly his hand closed into a fist and he withdrew. He was not one of them. And he would not surrender his fate to others. Moving backwards as if fleeing he entered once more into the crowd. Yet the feeling of yearning was unshakable. He was being called. He shook his head. He wouldn't give himself over to a higher power, feth that. But still he couldn't make himself leave, transfixed by the power that still reached for him, a single voice that uttered a lone word .... "Jart".

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

She wasn't sure why she came something deep inside her called her to this spot on this night. Her among strangers she felt uncertain of the path before her. A path that already seemed littered with challenges, and decisions.

Cobalt blue eyes tinged in blue flame looked down as she neared the edge. Slowly she knelt down drawn to the scene below she couldn't help but feel the pull to get closer. What was it that moved through her now. This felt different from when she discovered her connection to the force to the darkness that had claimed her mind and at times her body. Bella looked at her arms, the runes tattooed there.

The X that meant gift.
The > that meant fire.
and the last that still remained a mystery to her.

Was the last tied to this ceremony below her? Was her path truly changing now?

She did not look about to see if there was anyone familiar there it did not matter at this moment. What mattered was that she felt as if she belonged there.

She would know when to make the next move.

[member="William the Bloody"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

One by one, they had come, touched upon the Grimoire. In the back of the Witch's mind, she heard the spirits as they spoke. Doashim, Lylek, Jart; each of them had been given their fill, claimed who they chose for themselves. Each had reason to do as they did, each chose according to the individual suiting them best. Katrine could always stand there as she listened, acknowledging another presence within the Order, another chosen.

The Shaman of Lylek spoke to their words, agreeing to their wills. More were claimed and mark, each gaining a tattoo, brand or sacrification given by each of the spirits. Her eyelids fluttered as Veronika approached, touching the Grimoire only for a string of images flashed through her mind telling a story that the spirits knew was different from reality and yet, ending differently than it had oncedid. It wasn't the true past of what had happened to the blonde and yet, somehow, in one version of reality, it was exactly how it happened. The spirit spoke of the multiverse, reminding her of the one she herself had created by coming here. In the distance, she saw the image of the woman who had appeared at the party to her.

And as her head bowed, the spirits gifted her with a unique gifts. In her mind, Katrine saw in face pace the events which had led the creation of the Hawks, in short recaps. A ship crashing, a child found, Witches calling her Ceta by the tattoo of the bird she wore on her collarbone, her life and understanding of the darkness of their family and her final words, giving their Nightmother an understanding of who the woman was.

Her ancestor, their true progenitor stood there, among other spirits. Though she had died a Witch of Dathomir, she was born a Mandragora and where her Mother and Father had betrayed the order, she had been innocent andnow here, among the others. It made Katrine smile for a moment as she'd watched the Force Ghost visible to her before she looked back on the living, feeling the fires around the pillars burn stronger as their numbers grew, one by one.

Buir, the word drew her attention to the Doashim Shaman, spotting the small salute and even as the Lupine wanted to ask but the Spirits knew her questions before they became spoke words. It is what you are, Doashim roared into her ear, feeling as real as the physical manifestations watching from the side. She could only nod to the new knowledge before she senses another Lupine there, sapphire gaze wandering to her cousin. The demon's roar felt loud as he spoke to him, the decision obvious.

Another followed, gaze drawn to the unfamiliar face of a man as he stepped forward. The spirits called, discussing amongst themselves. Jart couldn't have him because of his grief, which sparked her interest, tilted head as she continued as she continued to pay attention. Doashim rejected as well, not seeing traits that would suit him. Lylek finally spoke, choosing to claim him. He has my interest, Lylek told the Nightmother, there is much we have yet to see from him. There was something about the man, that much was sure though the spirit seemed to require time or perhaps even [member=[/FONT]"Asher Mossa"] himself would require that time. Time will tell, Jart continued her thoughts.

Someone new joined them and the spirits diverted her eyes towards [member=[/FONT]"William the Bloody"] as Jart focused on the new arrival. He fights the song, Jart suddenly saw just as one of his birds flew over to the man, wings fluttering against the air as the spirit took hold of it, staring at the Crime Lord. "Trust the spirit. He chooses you," Katrine told the strangers, looking down on the opened Grimoire just before she'd felt a familiar signature of [member=[/FONT]"Arabella Darkhold"], sapphire gaze moving as she searched through the Force for the other woman. She could remember her from two different occasions, once when she had come to learn of spell and another when she had felt the raw power within her. As she searched, she felt the spirits honing in on where she was as well. She'd been escaping there far too long now. Now, one of them would claim her. But which one? Katrine could clearly see the interest of two, searching and finding the Dark Jedi Knight. "Arabella, come touch the grimoire. The spirits have been waiting for you..."

Her eyes fluttered beforeshecontinue, feeling the spirits pass through her again, this time, they had stayed as they spoke to their children and chosen once more. Her eyes opened, and where there was sapphire now danced colors of the spirits mixed with her own.

We are Mandragora. ​

We are protectors of the realm, of Ryloth. ​

Today, we grow and unite. We are family. ​

Tomorrow, one of you leaves our side as he embarks on a new journey. ​

His bond to us remains but his skills are required elsewhere. We will not be angry. ​

Tonight, we welcome home those who have been lost for so long. ​

Tomorrow, we cure Orcus.​

Katrine gasped as they released her, their prophecy ending. She had no control of what they had wanted to say but she had heard it loud and clear. A prediction of the future, speaking of someone who would leave them which seemed of importance before she wondered of those lost being welcome home. Growls suddenly roared from the valley below before she could even think about Orcus, a name she had heard before. She'd turned, familiar with the sounds but not expecting them on Ryloth. The massive beasts continued to roar as they marched on, the spirits calling them to the hill as they glowed through the darkness in different colors, their fast movements causing the ground beneath their large feet to tremble.

A smile spreadto her face as she saw the first of them escape the shadows that were hiding their shapes. "Rancors," she voiced as she realized. Rylothi Rancors, Lylek corrected her, making her understand. "Rancors are coming. They may be terrifying but they aren't a threat to you. They are, as all beings on Ryloth, under the protection of the spirits," Katrine informed the gathered as the Rancors continued their movements. From the back of her mind, the last line of the prophecy was pushed back as she watched the magneficent beasts. They were gifts from the spirits, coming to rejoin the Order they had once been part of. Katrine had every intention of welcoming him them back as the spirits wanted.

With their gathered speed, they climbed onto the hill with an ease, one by one appearing at the edge and lining up side by side, glowing gaze staring at thegathered, growls escaping their large mouths. They were facing strangers and yet, they knew exactly what they were and why they had gathered at the Altar. Like the Rancors of Dathomir, they knew. Katrine approached carefully, without attempting to use the Force as she need, drawing their attention to her. She could have used the Force to calmed them and she could have attempted to form a spell to communicate with them. She did neither. Instead, she did exactly as her Mother had done to her so long ago, coming amonst them slowly and watching them carefully, respectfully, before she'd lowered her gaze to the largest of them. His powerful roar at her told her what Nadie had told her in a similar way so long ago, that he was their herd father, the strongest among them.

Slowly, the Witch had reached out her hand, waiting for him to take a step forward, sniffing out her hand. He could sniff out the wolf inside her but the Mandragora as well. Her calm demeanor told her she wasn't a threat to him, a thought he relayed to others with a calm growl, encouraging them to step a little closer to the Altar. They did, eyes moving over the others, still cautious towards them as the herd father traced the side ofhislarg horn against her palm, coming off slightly clumsy as he was unfamiliar with humanoids. Katrine still understood as she watched the sharpest end. Her other hand moved, fingers lightly touching to his cheeks. Trust had to be earned with Rancors, which was how strong bonds were formed with Companions. Katrine had earned the trust of the Singing Mountain herd when she was little, who unlike the Witches, accepted her despite her being so odd and different than the rest yet she had never had a companion herself. "I'm going to have to give you a name," she told the rancor, noticing him not reject her hand. All the while, the Witch kept smiling.

[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"] [member="Rex Taff"] [member=Rapax] [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

Spoiler

Careful with the rancors! They're wary of strangers still. But who hasn't yet, can still get claimed by their spirit!

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

She felt caught off guard when she heard her name. A single brow arched up as her curiosity built. Within her though the calling started it mingled with the words of [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] guiding her to come down and forward.

She stood up and jumped landing in a kneeling position as small tufts of dust marked where she landed. Without a thought to what her clothes looked like she moved forward ever cautious of those around her. Cobalt blue eyes watching for the slightest moves that would tell her danger.

So far it did not come.

She looked at the grimoire it was not the first she had ever seen it was likely not the last either. In her vision the pages shimmered while words moved to form symbols in the language of the ancients that she had studied. She looked to Katrine again then with great care she reached out and touched the grimoire.

The words swirled Bella dropped the walls within where would this calling lead her...she took a slow breathe.

Everything around her dropped away she stood in the land of mists. Something or someone moved around her as if inspecting her upon her upper arm she finally felt a touch her skin burned. A soft voice whispered to her, Jart. It was like listening to the voices of the dead in their soft tones lulling those near to slumber in deep sleep.

Of course with all of her inquisitor training a Jart would look to skills of the mind.

When Bella opened her eyes she knew the path she was to follow. She doubted the Nightmother needed to know the choice. The spirit would tell her.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Magnificent creatures as Daxton observed the herd approach. So much power and menace made flesh, yet here they were as docile as they could ever be. The Sith Lord preferred to continue to observe the proceedings, watching with every action with eyes alert to the most subtle of nuisance, for later study for much was taking place and he was awhirl in a tempest of events.

So still was he, that each breath seemed so unbearably loud, a necessary but noisy nuisance. He could see the beads of sweat glisten on skin bathed under the light, the smell of unwashed flesh of the creatures, the thudding soun of his racing heart. All these he could see and observe, he could let nothing break his focus.

 

[Damien Van-Derveld]

Damien refused to cower in fear as the Rancors came to march upon the gathering. Instead a smile pulled at his lips. This was not the first time in his life he had been among such magnificent and vicious creatures. Their strength and raw power were a sign of the strength which was granted to the clan itself. Damien understood the care these creatures required. He was a nightbrother after all. Perhaps it was time to make it known.

A seeming awkward but significant act had Damien removing his shirt and allowing the ink which had been ceremoniously paced upon his torso to be seen under the gaze and glow of the moonlight. The brand which had appeared upon his torso was fresh. The flesh around it was still red as swollen as if the mark had been truly burnt into his flesh. Still, Damien advanced a couple of steps closer, careful, cautious, a hand outstretched to show he was no threat.

He refused to go too close, and maintained his distance from [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], his cousin. She was bonding with the herd father, and nothing could disturb it. Instead, Damien simply offered himself to the herd. There were no words, nothing said through the force, just the patient calm which he had leaned while being forced to feed the beasts and clean their stalls while on Dathomir. He had tended their young before, though none had chosen to bond with him. This time Damien had no other expectations. It was not his goal to form a bond, but rather he wished to simply be accepted by the herd. Doashim had already chosen him. It was time for the herd to see him as well.

Damien refused to show fear.

[ [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"] [member="Rex Taff"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] ]​

 

[Chikako Liona]

---

---

The ritual proceeded without much interference several more people coming to place there hands upon the book an be claimed by the spirits that inhabited the book, each getting their own little pep talk and individual power gain before once again [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] taking the stage. The following... event? was surely something to be hold, by the end the woman informing those who had gathered here on the coming Rancors, beast to put tamed and used by them, a very interesting prospect that made the young Echani well up with excitement, but kept and overall calm stature.

As the large beasts came over the ridge a small smile widened across her face, eyes falling upon Katrine as she went about approaching the beasts, in time to large creatures approaching the alter, wary but no intent of danger altering Chikako. The growling animals seemed to be just as curoise of the new visitors as she was in turn, the girls eye falling on one of the smaller beasts as the heard moved around, younger and mot as strong, but definitely more agile then the others, "My you are quite beautiful, come closer, let me touch your skins".

Standing still Chikako raised her right hand towards the beast letting it come closer, each step making the ground rumble a little, it's main horn coming into contact with the Echani's small pale hand, "ahh who's a cute but deadly boy... you are". The girls hand gliding along the Rancors face, herself stepping forwards slightly, its scale like hard and smooth, in her eyes a very pretty sight, "I will make sure to take good care of you, we can grow older and more powerful together, slowly rising to the top of the ladder, does that sound like fun"?

---

---

[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] - [member="Daxton Bane"] - [member="Arabella Darkhold"] - [member="William the Bloody"]- [member="Veronika Fleischer"] - [member="Maple Harte"]

 

[Maple Harte]

Maple felt light as Veronika kissed her, tasting more cognac. This was a very special. She closed her eyes, lost in the crazy sensation before the kiss finally ended.

Still feeling Veronika on her lips, she heard Doashim speak in her mind again.

Most curious someone so claimed by madness could be so attracted to one who endeavors to sharpen their mind.

I have a weakness for golden skinned, golden haired women. Sue me.

That's not it, Little Shadow. At least, not 'just' it.

Ah, we'll wonder about it later. Nice and nestled?

If you call the miasma of chaos that is your subconscious a nest, then yes, I am. the spirit rumbled in its deep voice. Turn your eyes to the desert beyond girl. It has brought new tidings.

"Come on Veronika! Lets go see which new critters decided to join the party!" Maple said enthusiastically as she at last spotted the gathering heard of Rylothi Rancors. Skip. She was a mynock from the future taking human form to warn of the plot to turn all into sentient boiled eggs. Skip. Back to Ryloth, home of this delicious battered sausage she had eaten that morning. And Rancors. Always Rancors.

She approached carefully, even though Katrine had said it was okay. Caution was always a good thing for large animals. One woman seemed to have taken to the herd immediately. The other animals lumbered forward, the ground trembling as she got closer.

She felt strange in her soul as she approached the herd, her green eyes looking at them all. They did not shy from her as she got closer. They did not even make aggressive movements. Skip. She had just gotten home from work after another hard day as a speeder salesman. Her feet were sore, and she started boiling tea. Skip. Maple's piercing gaze fell upon a particularly dark, almost ebon skinned one with reddish eyes. It was an adult, towering over her. It bent its head in curiosity as she came forward. It knealt down, sniffing her. She hesitantly reached out and stroked its horn. It did not draw away. It seemed very silent as it regarded her.

She leaned close, whispered. "My name is Uri," she said so quietly no one but her and it would here. "Wanna be pals?"

The animal regarded her, still silent, gave some sort of snort, likely one of approval, and scooped her up on its front horn. She held on than rode on it, staring at it.

"Guess that's a yes." Maple remarked. "I know what I'll call you! Scoop!"

It seemed to grunt in approval.

She looked at [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] and the others with a grin.

"I think this one likes me!" She called out.

 

[Ravenfire]

Rex watches as more people step up to the book and is accepted by the spirits. Some others are accepted by the Lylek. Some where accepted by other spirits. It wasn't long before the night mother [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] stepped up and started speaking but Rex wasn't really listening he could hear something coming. As the sound got louder he saw rancors.

As Kartine Van-Derveld approached them, he could sense the Lylek spirit speak to him. "Lylek do not fear the rancors, they are like you under our protection." Rex just nodded, he stood still while others bonded with the rancors, he could feel the spirit say "My Lylek Rex I know you are of science and thus I shall not force you to join the others. Instead I will allow you to create a likeness of me, as a droid. Understand that this is for you and you alone. Because I understand you Lylek for we are one now." Rex nods and says "Thank you Lylek, I will do so some time in the future." The spirit once again disappears to him, leaving him to watch others bonding with the Rancors.

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

Bella's eyes darted to the rancors. Creatures of some intelligence, strong, and destructive. She looked around she could sense the difference shadows, rage, hunters, and jungle. How had so come to this one place.

Most of them had the most terrible of tempers, destroying anything that they could reach out and touch. Except the Jungle Rancors. Then as if sensing her thoughts from the corner of her eye she saw them. A small group hovering there as if waiting to be noticed. Bella smiled and slowly walked towards them. Even now she sensed a gentleness in them, and that feeling of being outcast by the others of their kind.

The closest one caught Bella's movement as she circled over to see them. She could use some gentleness so many of her family were already filled with rage. That was when she felt it the upset of her emotions slowly siphoning off the rancor seemed to take it on. For a moment it lifted its giant head and roared causing the canyon to rumble. Bella quickly held out her hand, make a bond she thought.

"its ok. I've been an outcast in some form or another." she whispered sharing secrets that only a few knew. "its ok" She held out her hand. It looked at her as if trying to think was she trust worthy? Slowly he dropped his head and pressed it to her hand...Bella smiled.

[member="Rex Taff"] | [member="Maple Harte"] | [member="Chikako Liona"] | [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Asher Mossa]

When the Rancors came, Lylek spoke.

"They will sense your fear," the voice inside Asher's mind observed. "You allow this supposed curse to have too much power over you. I have placed much faith in you. Do not disappoint me."

The voice was quiet as soon as it had spoken. This was going to take getting used to. If Asher had thought he was cursed before, what was he to make of the fact spirits now spoke to him. Had it not been for the scars which he could feel eating away at his flesh, Asher would have assumed he was going insane. He was not. His eyes looked over the ridge where the rancors were coming. This was another family to belong to. Would the herd suffer because of him. Did Lylek understand the curse, or why he felt way he did.

"Everyone I have gotten close to dies violently."

The response was something which was a mere thought, but he knew Lylek would hear him. The spirit needed to understand why Asher was so withheld from everyone around him. It was not that he was afraid for himself, but rather he was tired of people dying because of him. A rancor approached him. Asher made no move to reach out to it, though he felt the urge to.

"Touch it... put you hand out."

Asher did as he was told. His hand reached out for the rancor that had approached him, and it leaned it's horn into Asher's hand. Were they bonding, or was Lylek proving a point? He didn't know, but Asher would find out. His path was set. He belonged to Lylek now, and destiny would unfold.

[ [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"] [member="Rex Taff"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] ]​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

To be frank, Scherezade was bored out of her mind. Her direct link to the spirits somewhat hurt, she couldn't be part of all the mental connection dialogues that were so clearly going on. It was humiliating, just being there, unable to do anything. Like the unwanted girl at prom, who just sat on her chair all night long. She watched as Kat walked between the people gathered, watched as words were being spoken.

Force, she wanted to stop watching and just go. Her patience towards being an outcast in such a direct manner was truly wearing thing.

And then spirits!Kat spoke. Emerald green eyes squinted as she focused on those words. She might not have been able to talk to the Jart since her tattoo was damaged, but she could still hear what Katrine had to say.

Which caused Scherezade's eyes to light up with excitement.

Other people moved quicker than she, and yet, they were so slow. Approaching the rancors as though they were made of glass, as though a wrong move would turn them into a tv dinner.

Scherezade rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. If people wanted to be silly like that, it was fine by her. Her ride out of here depended on Kat anyway, and since the newly created Nightmother was probably going to be the last to leave, it meant she had time a-plenty. She made a mental note to get a ride of her own though. This whole depending on people thing had to be substantially decreased in quantity.

She didn't need any voices to tell her how to treat rancors. She knew. Inherited information was always good in cases such as that.

Sighing, the young woman began to walk towards the herd, carefully avoiding getting too near any of the other people. Rancors, she could handle. People right now, slightly less.

She kept walking, moving between them all, reaching, trying... There.

In the back.

The last one to show.

Continuing at the same pace, Scherezade casually walked over to her. She was small, which explained why she was last to show; shorter legs needed more time to cover ground, even when they were speedy. Its mother was probably nearby, but Scherezade didn't worry about it. Nothing about her would cause any of the rancors present a reason to panic or stress out.

"Hey there, little one," she said gently, her hand coming up to touch the creature just above the nose. The rancor gave her a snort that she decided was friendly, and she leaned in close with a smile.

 

[Anya Malvern]

Rancors

She had heard of the wonderful beasts, large and powerful creatures strong enough to take a walker on! Her eyes widened in awe as she looked then all over when they approached. She hovered closer staying her distance respectfully as she watched others go up and....befriend the creatures? She looked around them and moved forward carefully.

A few would look her way then lost interest, she gave a sigh and stopped. She looked at one that seemed to have scars over it. The beast looked down upon her as she growled a bit, warning her not to come closer, staying where she was she held a hand out and smiled speaking

you are in way like me aren't you...a fighter despite everything....

She did not know if the rancor understood, however fit leaned closer sniffing her before moving closer pressing it's nose to her hand. She gave a chuckle and nodded

Hmmm yes...I can see it in your eyes...a warrior of your own kind. I respect that greatly. Should you allow, I want to bond with you....warrior to warrior

She said and it leaned down more so her forehead pressed to its nose