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TO: Vice President [member="Ostanes"], Akure Executive Interstellar
FROM: Ember Rekali, Aliit'buir, Clan Rekali
RE: Custom order
Mr. Ostanes,
I've been impressed with your work during our collaborations, and I'd like your advice. I understand that AEI's alchemists aren't often in the business of custom orders anymore, but I was hoping you could make an exception.
I've gone back and forth between lightsabres and swords for years. I've forged enough talismans and Force-imbued blades to know that high-end weapons alchemy isn't my department. My strengths lie elsewhere. Currently, I have a lightsabre that suits my needs, but there are expectations placed on a leader of witches. The image demands I branch out.
I'm after a Talisman of Counterspell in the form of a sword, a good sword. I could probably piece such a thing together, but allow me to appeal to your ego: I have no doubt your version would be better. If time doesn't permit, I'd appreciate a recommendation -- some other alchemist who'd be willing and able to tackle this.
TO: [member="Ember Rekali"], Witch King of Dathomir, Clan Father of Rekali Aliit
FROM: Ostanes, Thamaturge of the Alchemist Guild, VP of Akure Executive Interstellar
RE: Custom Order
Whilst I have recommendations I could provide, you hit the mark in both fanning my ego to draw me in, and in that it likely would be hard to find better to do it. I have some ideas, thanks to my studies into Dathomirian techniques. However, to do what you as will not be easy I am afraid. The materials alone will be quite staggering, though I am sure with your resources you can procure them.
I am attaching a list of suggested components. Most of these are easily able to be substituted, and i've no doubt you will know of their uses. A few I cannot substitute in the ritual are inked in red. Thank you for your consideration.
Lignan Crystal - This will need to be at least a size bigger than that of your hand when made into a fist, hollowed into a basin.
Korribanite Sand - I am running low, and have not the time to obtain it. A kilogram or so should do. The more significant a site of collection, the better and stronger the ritual.
Blood - Specifically yours. I will need both fresh during the ritual, and an few units taken before hand. Soak the crystal above in this.
An object attuned to you in the Force. Similar to the process of attuning a crystal for lightsaber use.
Maalraas Bone - A segment long enough to shape into a hilt. Something like a leg bone works best.
Once you obtain the items, have them sent to my workshop on Dathomir, in the Wilds. Location is attached. You are welcome to attend in person, which is preferred, or just come to collect and bind the object to your presence after the base act is done.
Either way, consultation on what base metals you favor for blade construction, and any specific styles you fight in with a physical blade is best. Lacking that, I will go off what information I have on Mandalorian warfare, which is scant.
It's taken me longer than expected to procure the materials you require. Fortunately, my granddaughter Alec was already plumbing the depths of the Stygian Caldera, so Korriban sand was straightforward enough. I've included the other items, including one quart jar containing the lignan and my own blood. As for the item, I've included several small pieces of metal. One is from the cybernetic implants of my wife; the others are fragments from the armour of my children: Rach, Certh, Faran, and Benna Kol-Rekali, and Aaralyn Rekali. I trust you can make do with six samples instead of one, and rest assured that they're all attuned to me.
For combat, I favor Djem So and the beskad. Something hand-and-a-half and double-edged would be ideal. As for metal, I'd prefer Mandalorian iron, which I'll provide and help to smith.
I should arrive on Dathomir around two days after the materials.
As he read, he examined the parcel with the items, and nodded. Each was arrayed out in an appropriate place, some he tinkered with for a moment before. Wrapped around the container of blood went a papyrus. Writing on it, the brown-black of dried blood, was scrawled Ancient Sith runes. It was a spell, a minor one. One of the first Ostanes had made from his own conjecture. It imbued the item within with the essence of the blood. Dipping his hand within, he smeared a rune on his forehead in the blood as he wrapped the crystal within in the same spell. A handful of Korribanite sand was sprinkled into the mixture, a droplet of his own blood to bind the ritual to him, and Ostanes closed the lid on it. Sealed, he wrapped the jar in a heavy canvas to block out the light, and oddly enough wrapped it in thin chains of glittering crystal. Warding chains, just in case the spell went awry. Already, from linking himself with the blood-rune, he could feel the wrath and pain of the Clan Father. Loss that radiated from the six items next to the covered Throne in the back of his workshop. Odd, but it felt almost like a Force Bond.... He'd have to test that and see when Ember arrived.
With a sigh at the jar, he slid it into a shelf within a cabinet and closed it. It was a minor medical storage cabinet that induced a weak stasis field. Should keep the blood more than fresh. It wouldn't do to have it degrade until the crystal had absorbed all the blood. Slowly as the spells worked, it would do so. Absorbing the hate, the loss, the woe and more of the blood... Absorbing the very essence of Ember Rekali himself. If it worked as intended, the crystal would bind the sword to where it would use none of it's abilities except in Embers' hands. Otherwise it would be a mediocre at best Sith Sword. Though, as he was swiftly learning, such archaic branches of Force use like Sith Magic had unexpected consequences. As if the Force were a living thing that twisted and perverted his efforts, a foe to struggle against and force into submission to his own will and wants. Maybe there was something to that. Something he could use to his advantage.
Picking up the bits of armor and remnants of Clan Rekali in general, he strode over to the Throne, and gave it a tug, yanking off the cover and exposing the hap-hazard creation. Since it's make, he had installed a sort of table to leave objects on, to make it easier to meditate in its' embrace whilst focusing on a certain thing or things. Setting the six down on the table he had rigged to it, a finger dipped in Embers' still wet blood touched each, leaving a smeared print of his thumb. Then he turned to the maalraas bone. This he merely placed into a small trough on a bench to the side, after filling it with the precious red sand. Six drops of blood went into the sand, the red liquid hissing a bit as it hit the sand. A wand of bone from a plundered Jedi tomb traced Sith Runes on the sand before the bone that would be the hilt was lain to the trough, and as it touched the sand, he spoke in the language of sorcerers, in Ancient Sith.
"Tadti' ri wisosûta nikisosûti, mirji an jiso waria tuti urs diâ anmudzuna! An jiso raka wuni tuti j'us mirji... An jiso winwi wuni j'us tqi zami... An jiso anmudzuna wuni tu'iyia kiha tuti satkari..."
Turning, his shoulders slumped, but he reached a hand out to the staff, as if calling to a friend or confidant. Slowly, purpose seemed to fill him again as he shuffled and then strode quickly to the throne, moving the table back and strapping himself in on the lower limbs. Before his torso and arms were strapped, he pulled the staff to him with a tug of the Force. Already the small cottage fairly reeked of the Dark Side, a foreboding aura that pushed all manner of life away, and drew fearsome things like the rancor or terentatek to the boundary of his land, where they prowled, as if either seeking to get in to crush the thing they inherently felt the song of, or as guard. Setting the staff against the Throne, he opened his mind to Obeah, and the power of the Spirit he had trapped in World Walking with Ember. Suddenly a rush of energy filled him, and he turned his gaze to the objects as the restraints were flicked and he was bound. Ancient Sith rolled from his tongue again.
"Anmudzuna iw ri kraujas diâ ditra... Aki iw ri kata diâ toms iw anas doriza, isatri shatajia... Nuri an ki tu'iyia midwan. Nuri an ki tu'iyia kakija. Nuri an ki tu'iyia irartsa, mazo anas dro ri Wisosûta ri Sar kiha ruai wau diâ satkari rim wirzûtiasi zara ant jiso zûtaikima"
The incantation finished, Ostanes spat into the middle of the table, the gobbet of phlem sizzling on the metal, and faint steam seeming to flow into the cybernetics and armor before him, and then out of them. Deep breaths in as the smoke trailed back to him. Vapor flowing into his lungs, as his amber eyes filmed over, his mind and consciousness taken in differing directions at once, pulled to memories of lives not his, flashes of Ember as a father. Of Ember as a husband. A friend. A lover. An avenger. The object glowed, the trail of steam traced with a faintly dark penumbra. Flashes came quicker and quicker, the Throne enhancing the ritual to entice the memories from the objects, the stream of information almost too much. Swiftly the filmy eyes rolled back into his skull, a trail of foamed spittle down his mouth, as his breathing slowed. The flow of life-memories had become manageable...
When he awakened, he would contain fascimilies of Embers' family, their essence, in his mind. He would take the crystal empowered with the Clan-Fathers essence and thus join them. The resultant crystal would be a nexus of compat size but terrible power. And it would be neutral in truth, mirroring the Rekali warriors own spiritual aura to meld and enhance his power. Nothing the likes of Ruusan or a temple, but for its' own size it was apt to be astounding and incredibly useful. And a fringe effect would be the faint touches of his loved ones spirits and minds. The shades would not speak and acknowledge him, but they would be there, a comforting and inspiring presence.
Incantation # 1: Spirits of the blood and flesh... Love of the heart and fruit of that union, eternal inheritance... Give to me your power. Give to me your memory. Give to me your essence, so that through the Father the Six might live again and grant him bloody vengeance on his enemies
Incantation #2: To his hand alone be you bound... To his touch alone you shall awaken... To his spirit alone your might be granted...
