Private Orphiad: The Resurrection of S.

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

OOC/ Like other 'expedition' threads that I've done, I envision this thread as a non-linear, open-ended set of vignettes. The broad setting is the ongoing expedition to resurrect Spencer Varanin , most of which will probably take place in the Netherworld. No need for back-and-forth: if one post with one little event is all you have time and spoons for, please dump it in. It enriches the whole. And the expedition doesn't need to stay together: solo side explorations and mishaps are fully encouraged.

Images are encouraged. To spur your imaginations, I've gathered nearly every Netherworld location. As Ashin doesn't know for sure where Spencer is trapped in the Netherworld, by all means touch on any and all of the following:

LOCATIONS ON THE NETHERWORLD MAP:

1. Blood Waste​

2. Sinner's Despair or Sinner's Rue - an individualized helltrap​

3. Oasis​

4. Whisperstorm​

5. Behelian Canyon​

6. Field of Blades​

7. Serenity's Redoubt​

8. Sanctuary​

9. The Dunes - dunes​

10. Ruined City of Hr'Tal​

11. Labyrinth​

12. Chasm of Passing​

13. Garden of Thorns​

14. Spire of Destiny​

15. Valley of Lies​

16. River of the Dead and Path of Choices​

LOCATIONS NOT ON THE MAP:

• Great Fall
• Vossenland
• White Room
• Rupture's Fall
• Crypt of the Damned
• Dreaming Dark
• Graveyard
• Kandelkrypt, the Truthbarrows
• Hellmouth
• Ethereal Sea
• Sundered Wastes
• Great Bone Orchard
• Daemoni Ignius
• Conclave of the Whills
• Mobius One
• Thousand-Faced Tree
• Three Islands
• Pilgrim's Rest
• Jaquenta, the Narrow Roads
• Valley of the Lost and Forgotten
• Hadean Athenaeum
• Misery, City of the Living Dead
• Diavolin, the Shattered Reach
• Gethsemane
• Kameyama

The best-known rifts are on Corellia (leading to region #6, the Field of Blades), Csilla (leading to the region #1, the Blood Wastes), Naboo (the Heart of the Universe in the Collo Mountains leading to the Mountain of Memories in region #11, the Labyrinth), and Dathomir (Warlock's Gate, leading to region #2, Sinner's Despair). Ashin recently sold a year of her service to the Worm Emperor for the location of another good rift on Korriban, which she and Seydon explored. Use any or all of the above however you want, alone or in groups. Enjoy.

IC/

Ruins sprawl over Korriban, a canvas for the proper tools.
Near a hole in the ground, a rift into the Netherworld,
a red stone slab bears blackened writing,
lightsaber script six inches deep.

I couldn't wait for any of you.
Her voice came through. She still exists.
She's trapped and afraid,
in a dark place
and something hunts her.

(source)

RIVER OF THE DEAD
THE NETHERWORLD
​

I write this as a form of meditation. The ferryman, whatever sort of shade he is, feels quite bemused. Even twenty years after Akala broke the gates wide open, the living are rare here, and rarer still those who scribble in a notepad while traveling Hell.

I believe the Netherworld is constructed, not self-existent. That doesn't mean it's intentionally constructed. I believe it assembled itself out of the zeitgeist and expectations of a million sapient species over a million years. And I know from my service as Anger that most life passes into the Cosmic Force. But some lives get snared in here like trash in a drain filter, sometimes indefinitely and sometimes just until they dissipate - and that is the Netherworld.

In short, I need to search within a galaxy's worth of dubiously-connected planes and climes. Some you can walk between; other transitions take a change of nature or an effort of will.

From research aboard the Pomojema, I suspect the most likely places she could be are the Bone Orchard and the Dreaming Dark. But I have little to work from. This place has no shortage of dark corners and predators sufficient to terrify my wife.

And if it scares her, it scares me.

The ferryman has agreed to take me to the very edge of the Bone Orchard. He won't go near the Dreaming Dark. You don't last long as a coherent intelligence by visiting places like that.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

There was a singular problem for truly believing in a living force. Sometimes it told you to do things you simply didn't want to do. The cool wind among the mountains brushed by a middle aged Iridonian as he stared unwaveringly into the force chasm that lead into the Netherworld. Closing his eyes once more he embraced the force letting it run through him as he fought to master his rare uneasiness. For a man who'd seen much this lead to one of his less happy memories, a place of failure and sorrow.

He could still hear the screams of pain and pleas of help from those he loved as he got lost further into the labyrinth. Then he'd heard a voice among it all, a voice he knew to be true, and she had saved him. Well perhaps at that moment they'd saved each other. He had no doubt now her voice would be there again. Calling pleading for help, and begging him not to abandon her again. She wouldn't be there though this time to anchor to. Only the doubts, blame and sorrows would attempt to eat at him until he ran deeper. Until he forgot them all, and then forgot himself. He reasoned it a mercy really, and most likely they were finally able to join the living force then stripped of all the fears and sorrows they brought with them into the darkness.

He was certain that was all the Nether actually was, self created prisons and damnations thought up over a million generations and myths. That and spirits so strong in the force they simply wouldn't let go and shaped the land as they pleased. Beings such as the old Sith Gods, just people who held on so long they forgot who and what they really were, and so clung to what remained. It was cruel even to themselves.

Still the winds pulled at him, a gentle insistence, and a warm understanding. Releasing his fears and unease Sargon allowed the force to bath him in it's warm breath, the winds revealing all of his surroundings to him as he closed his eyes. At least this time he had a theory. The labyrinth made itself a new each and every moment. The people inside changed it continually to torment and trap them with their own fears and regret. Sargon could bring none of those trappings with him. Then he would simply wait, and eventually the way out would show itself. All he had to do was hold on that long.

Checking over his equipment once he couldn't help but give it all a small smirk. As unreal as it was to it's inhabitants it as all too real, and if memory served he'd been attacked many times out of fear that he was something else. It was ironic that this horrible memory was so tinged with good ones. A time when he'd been a part of something. A time when he had a purpose and people he loved and fought besides. Not this time though, this time he would enter alone and he knew not what for. He simply had faith the living force would not lead him in without reason or purpose.

Taking one last step forward he kept his focus on the force as the temperature changed abruptly and a sudden dry heatwave move past him. Reaching out he ignored his immediate surroundings as he searched through the force through the nether. Why was he here? Then just as suddenly he knew as one clear presence spoke through all the darkness to the mark right on the back of his neck. My Lady, you called me, and I have answered.

Ashin Cardé Varanin Spencer Varanin

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

​

Kaalia had felt it. A being of power had traversed into the Netherworld, like she herself had before. As its agent she was closely connected to the realm, making her keenly aware of major shifts when they took place. She rarely reacted to those events anymore, though. She was no longer the Valkyrie matriarch, the responsibilities she once held were now on other shoulders. This time, however, Kaalia had made an exception. Enveloped by the Netherworld's powers she had taken the form of a spectral figure, making the simple act of being here as a living being no longer straining over time.

The sensation that had led the Sith lady here had been a familiar one. She had good reason to believe she knew who had pierced the veil and why, and there was only one thing she could do that felt proper. Find them and like before, help where she could.

Looking over the realm of the dead before her, Kaalia took a deep breath, a sign she was one of the living among the dead despite her appearance, and leapt upwards. Instead of coming back down, ghostly wings sprouted from her back to grant her the ability of flight. Kaalia had obtained these powers only after her efforts to return her wife to the realm of the living. In fact, those two things were closely linked. Even if none of it made the direct effort to carry a soul out of the Netherworld any easier, she could help in other ways.

Following the ripples left behind by the presence of the living, Kaalia soared through the dead skies, going along with the flow of the river beneath her. In the distance, she could see the ferryman's boat. Perhaps that's where the woman would find who she was looking for.

Ashin Cardé Varanin | Spencer Varanin | Sargon Vynea ​

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

EDGE OF THE BONE ORCHARD
THE NETHERWORLD​

The ferryman was quick to leave me here, but I'm not alone, either physically or at a spiritual level. Kaalia Pavanos joined me on the way - I must admit I'm impressed with the apparent sincerity of her commitment. As she mentioned on Balowa, she's been through something very similar, and I'm eager to take advantage of her greater experience with the Netherworld. She has unique abilities here as well - flight, for example. Me, I'm limited to trudging along, hence the boat ride on the River of the Dead. At least I have my work with the throne and Dissero's needle to guide me, or it'd be far too easy to stumble away and get lost forever.

There's something else on the wind. After two decades, I've felt Sargon Vynea . The last time we saw each other, I was doing my level best to be a Jedi again, mostly for political reasons but also for the sake of family. I don't even remember if he met the girls - Ibaris, Noelle, Quinn. If so, they'd have been very young. He was loyal as a dog to Spencer. I don't know if he's alive or dead; either way, he's the kind of help she needs.

Others - again, living or dead - have gathered here at my camp. This quest of mine has made strange alliances. I hurried into the Netherworld alone, but some of those allies were deeply invested; many have caught up. They don't all get along, but that's alright: the Netherworld is a gigantic place with many dark corners to search. Those whose interests or personalities conflict have any number of ways to contribute, and the same is true for those of varying abilities, talents, and alignments. The Bone Orchard is only one of the climes that might hold Spencer captive.

We'll find her. That much is certain. I have no idea if the Force is whispering it; I can't hear such things with ease. But I know my will.

 

[Noelle Varanin]

Ashin didn't wait for her.

She had promised to.

Noelle stared at the gates of the Netherworld, a chill settling into her bones. She had had time to think about their conversation that night, and in that time she had found futures to fear... resolve to doubt... and things worth preserving. Ashin had been right about so many things, yet logic didn't change circumstance.

A choice that had once felt so simple now felt impossible to conclude. It was no longer a matter of do or don't. As she stood before that gate one question came to mind. Could she live with what it took to protect her family?

Could she live with the consequences if chose not to?

The answer to that was simple. She stepped into the gates of the Netherworld, alone and underprepared, and found herself faced with a wall of thorns.

Vertigo hit her as she beheld the looming labyrinth, her sense of place erased. She glanced back at once for the gate, only to find it gone. A long path stretched out before her, no end in sight.

"....Hello?" She breathed, stepping in deeper. Her stomach fluttered, twisting in on itself. "Mother?"

She had done something wrong again. This wasn't the River of the Dead. She sent out a psychic pulse, a panicked chill hitting her veins.

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

He had not been long on Korriban.​

​

Free from the binds of a timeless world which had consumed years of the Galaxy in the mere blink of an eye, there had been much for the boy to catch up on. All around him those he had known had changed, fallen deeper into the black abyss of the Force they had ascended new heights in their fight for power. He barely recognized them.​

​

Alone once more in an unrelenting universe, Thesh had taken his meditations deep into the wastes of the planet's surface, beyond the Academy, and the Valley wherein innumerable Sith roamed in eternal slumber. The more he fell into it, into the perpetual darkness which lingered on the fringes of his mind, the more aware he became of one solitary pained voice echoing through the discordant melody ever present in his core. ​

​

That corrupting beast which clawed ever more within him, grasping for more than he possibly had to offer, grew quieter as her voice drowned it out, words incomprehensible to he who was locked in the center of some great symphony once more. As haunting as the tune ever was, with her voice coinciding it was all together more harrowing until it was all he could do to resist its call.​

​

He fell from that meditative state as quickly as he could, stumbling back to the ground he had previously hovered above both hands slammed into the red stone ground and left a jarring ricochet through his core. Had it all been an illusion? A trick of those maleficent beings who roamed this insidious world?​

​

Where he sat he found himself gasping for air, struck with a sorrow he could recall no equal to. He swallowed back an untamed gasp, blinked tears from existence which had threatened to well within his eyes, and fumbled to his feet as quickly as he could muster. He had heard tell of the ways in which Korriban could play with ones mind, but this had been thoroughly intrusive.​

​

And yet even beyond his thoughts he felt certain he could hear her still; like sirens call it bade him onward, and though he knew not why he put one foot in front of the other and followed without hesitation. Through the badlands, where dust kicked up with his every step, and onto the edge of life itself.​

​

The utter despair he felt as he came upon the rift pulled every ounce of breath from within his lungs. Every muscle in his aching body coiled, ready to flee this place and keep his soul in tact it was not ready yet to give up... It clung to life. Sorrow washed over him as he took the necessary step across the threshold and into the unknown reaches of Hell, far deeper and sinister than it had presented itself before it had tears cascading down his cheeks before he'd even set his foot back to the ground.​

​

And in an instance Korriban was gone, leaving only abject horror in its wake.​

 

[Kal]

In that garden of the lost and the desperate, no response was forthcoming but an eerie silence. All around the Princess of Eshan lay nought but looming walls of thorn climbing towards a cloudy, featureless sky. Every once in a while, a faint whisper could be heard, the beginnings of a torment that would break the wills of most and spur a few onwards to reach the centre of this cursed maze - and with it, freedom.

---

To Noelle, it would likely be difficult to tell how much time had passed - minutes, hours, days? Perhaps she seen not a trace of life or consciousness, or perhaps the shades of this place had begun to converge, manifestations of her fears given semi-corporeal form, strengthened by violent resistance.

Suddenly emerging from a thorny wall, a familiar figure made itself known, shadowy form seeming more tangible than when last they met.

"Well, well, well. Lost, are we?" Gliding up to her, he lowered himself to the ground, the vague impression of feet making a soft thud as they struck soil. Extending a single hand, he proceeded to gently bop her forehead. "I would welcome you to my home, though this is hardly my favourite landmark."

Eying their surroundings with distaste, he grimaced. "Too many hopeless shades by far. Trapped in a prison of their own design, sorry business."

Noelle Varanin​

 

[Lief]

​

Sargon, she called out through the Force, as she neared the precipice of the Heart of the Universe and therein found only the Iridonian's lone starship for company. She had come as soon as she was able, pulled along by the thoughts he had sent her way and with the will of the Force like wings upon her feet she had made quick time of it.​

​

And yet, it appeared, she was still too late.​

​

Eyes fell upon a trodden stick, cracked in two by careless foot, and to her knees the woman sank, cradling within her grasp that last trace of he who had pulled her back to the Force. Those same eyes rolled upward in the moments which followed, as the world came alive before her in translucent recollections of all it had seen in recent days. Simple, serene nothingness lingered ahead of her, night and day flittered by... And then he came.​

​

Descending with thunderous might the ship had dropped upon the mountain and from within he had come. His visage passed her unknowingly, and upward he climbed still until he was lost around the turn. She pulled back, allowing the stick to return to the earth, and brushed her knees as she rose to a stand and set off in his footsteps.​

​

The wind whipped her wild hair as she reached the true heart, singular lightsaber hilt slapping at her thigh as the path forward proved difficult to scale. It was upon her faster than she'd care to admit, that threshold between life and death. And though deep down she wished for any other eventuality to be true, she knew that it was where she too must tread.​

​

What business he had in such a place she did not know, for his message had been brief. More of a pull than an explanation, a destination not a why. She inhaled a breath to steady her mind and drew upon the Force for strength. She had followed it into many an unknown before, let her trust not be misplaced this time...​

​

Sargon Vynea​

 

[Noelle Varanin]

Garden of Thorns
Kal​

Noelle startled, a wary look to her eyes. It wasn't hard to image the experiences one might have in this wretched place. When he reached out, she stepped back, Ashin's sword leveled between them.

"Shadow," was the only greeting he got. She knew it was him without a doubt. This maze had made her see many things, but the bond they shared still sat in her chest, more tangible than disorientation that had taken over. She looked around, hazel eyes trained for the thorns he emerged from. He had spoken so much of his kind, she fully expected them to follow suit.

"Come for your revenge then?" It wasn't exactly paranoia. She did hold him hostage for weeks on end. It wasn't entirely fair to the manners he had shown, either.

 

[Kal]

Sith Warblade, expertly forged at that. Quite the welcoming party from someone who had so desperately called for aid.

Taking a step backwards, Kal looked somewhere between confused, amused, and offended, readily relaying as much through their bond; hardly as strong as it had been while he was still bound, but still an odd experience. A personal first, for the Shadow. "The name is Kal, unless you would prefer I call you Echani." Sighing theatrically, he shook his head. "It hurts that you think so little of me, after all we've been through."

Gesturing towards the seemingly endless maze that surrounded them, some of the usual amusement bled through. "If I wanted revenge, I could simply leave you here, no? Perhaps convince the locale to focus its efforts on you. Imprisonment repaid by imprisonment?"

Taking a tentative step closer, he continued to eye her blade warily. Whether in Realspace or the Nether, such weapons could strike at his very essence as surely as the Force itself. "Would you believe me if I said I could be convinced to help you - hopelessly lost as you are?"

Noelle Varanin​

 

[Noelle Varanin]

Garden of Thorns
Kal​

"I am not lost."

A beat.

She sighed, sword lowering. "Well, perhaps a little." Her expression pinched into a sour facade, her predicament more than frustrating. She had tried everything she could think of, going as far as cutting her way through the hedges. It had earned her nothing more shallow scratches, her cheek stinging against open air. A crack of twigs snapped from behind her. She flung around, backing up to put him first.

What? It was not as if he could die.

"Name your price and you will have it. I have a mother to get to, it is happening now." The depth of desperation in her chest might make sense then, deeper and more primal than her need to escape. Every moment wasted wandering was one her mother's might be lost. It wasn't just her soul on the line here. It was her whole family's.

It kept her sane in this maze of horrors, the disorientation unable to strip the sense of direction her purpose gave her.

Another twig cracked, closer and louder this time. She raised her sword.

"Kal?"

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Now that I've set up a base camp for searching the Bone Orchard, I lack the time to sit and write, except for notes.

Giant spiders, locals call them crystal spinners - thought they were Force constructs or emanations, but they taste decent over a fire. Crystal silk may have uses. Unlikely to be the predator(s) Spencer was/is hiding from. In numbers, an obstacle. New scars. Entropy is a beauty but I've lost a couple of adepts from the Pomojema who followed me here. The spiders ate well.

Closer to center = trees look more like bones, hence the name. Useful for navigating. The Bone Orchard is huge and static. Even with Dissero's needle it's a challenge on foot.

Base camp is stable for now, well marked, hasn't attracted anything we can't put down. Bone tree stockade at the edge of the River. I've left word with the ferrymen that Noelle and others may be on their way.

 

[Kal]

There was a time and a place to point out that the little garden she had found herself in was infamous for drawing in the lost and the desperate, but this did not seem to be it. She was agitated enough as is, no need to make her swing that damn sword around.

Turning to face her as she hid behind him, more amusement made itself known. Indestructible he was not, but he trusted in his senses to warn him.

"I am not an unreasonable man, Noelle, you may simply be further indebted to be." Twofold favours owed, quite the interesting development. Truth be told his aid to her had more to do with finding her fascinating than the promise of repayment; few among the Jedi or the Sith were bold enough to cast themselves into the Nether in pursuit of their goals, and yet here she was, unaffiliated and alone yet bursting with determination.

Finally turning to face what was coming at her fearful reaction, he placed his hands in ad hoc pockets, smiling broadly when the being that came into sight turned out to be a gruesome demon towering above them both. <Don't attack him.>

Taking a step forward, he bowed deeply, feet hovering slightly above the ground. "Greetings, honoured guide. I commend you for your thankless efforts as a shepherd of the lost and humbly request your assistance in guiding this one to the Tree of Solace and with it freedom from this torment."

The poor Maelibus seemed entirely caught off-guard by the greeting. Truly the willingness of organics to jump to conclusions was saddening.

Noelle Varanin​

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

The Bone Orchard was one of the few places where Kaalia's wings were of little use. The dense forestation meant scouting from above was next to impossible and so the woman had joined the others on the ground. It would make the search much more difficult, but rarely did anything in the Netherworld cooperate.

Ashin's resolve was strong, though. It was that same resolve that pulled Kaalia through the trials of this realm in her efforts to be reunited with her own beloved. They would find the lost soul. With how many people had joined Ashin along the way, it had to be an inevitability. Losses had already been suffered, but they had chosen to take that risk themselves. Either they knew the dangers, or they should have known.

Among those that had come along, there was a sense of unity. Despite any differences certain parties had. Regardless of their reasons, everyone was here with the same intentions. It did Kaalia well.

She may have never met the one they were seeking, but that didn't matter.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Opening his eyes he found himself in a familiar place, a place he had never wished to see again in truth. The walls of this labyrinth rose tall around him but in it's heart the mountain loomed dominatingly. It was no wonder so many ran to it, perhaps before they lost themselves they thought they'd see their surroundings and find the way out. Of course that had it's own truth to it, it was a way out in itself, just never the one they thought to find.

Taking a breath it struck him just how real everything felt here. The place defied all rules and laws, but Sith spit if it didn't feel real. Then again he thought, as his eyes traveled over a group of lost souls, how much strength in the force was powering all of it. He wondered if it was all simply as natural as illusion in the real world, and here it just took physical form. They looked at him started for a moment as he appeared surprised, then their faces changed to horror as they screamed in fear.

The voices started soon after as heartbreaking a sob as they were the first time he was here. "Sargon, help please!" With a deep breath he pushed away that heartbreaking feeling they were trying to evoke in him and surrounded himself with the force. The noise still existed, but here it was easier to focus. Easier to hold himself together despite the horror and tragedy they evoked.

As the winds sang to him he pulled the force within himself. Smaller and smaller he collapsed inside of himself as he sat right where he entered the Labyrinth becoming almost invisible in the land of the dead. As his force presence vanished to near nothingness the screams of horror from the lost souls faded into shock, and then they ran before whatever beat they'd seen returned.

Around him he felt a thousand voices screaming in search of him, but inside all was quiet as he sat silently waiting for the storm to move on. Opening his sense he was thrown off, and nearly lost his center as the place around him whirled like a maelstrom of force energy. He did have a plan, but it required time and patience. Souls without number had strengthened this place in the force, but they all thought of it slightly differently and that was his hope. Somewhere there would be a gap, perhaps even created purposely. For many religions and myths was not redemption a strong theme? One could not have terror without hope, and for most it was the mountain but somewhere here would be a gap. He just had to wait and watch inside of himself until that time came.

Lief Ashin Cardé Varanin Kal Kaalia Pavanos Noelle Varanin

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

​

He found himself spat out into frigid snow-laden fields.​

​

So taken aback was he by the sudden change in environment and temperature that he faltered where he stood, slipping to the ground where he would remain for a solid minute. If not more.​

​

The fields spread on around him for as far as his eyes could see, from horizon to horizon the vast wastes were all he had to look upon. When he finally stood back up, brushing away the damp snow from his trousers, he let out a long sigh and watched as his breath snaked into the air ahead of him like some great dragon...​

​

He took one step forward, before pausing and instead turning full circle. Nothing... Nothing... There. In the distance he spotted it, something different, jutting up from the ground and reaching toward the heavens. That same voice which had lured him into these wastes slowly returned its call, grasping at his mind and begging him to venture on.​

​

So he did.​

​

Those fields felt endless, even with a goal in mind. Perhaps because of said goal. His destination loomed over him long before he reached its base, casting a shadow across the land and omitting the blood red moon from existence at just the right angle. It was a spire, he quickly realized, some great tower that looked as though it had existed for a millennia. And almost as though it could withstand eons more.​

​

That haunting voice quietened the closer he got, or perhaps it simply changed. In its wake it left the cries of a young boy, familiar to him yes but also foreign and distant. He couldn't quite place his finger on where exactly he had heard it before, and no matter how much closer he got to it the damn thing seemed fleeting. If it had a body attached it was ever out of his vision, just briefly from sight.​

​

"Come here," he called out, further plumes of smoke following the words into the night, "I won't hurt you..."​

​

But whatever it was, it did not listen. So he was left to follow, in vain hopes of discovering its true identity.​

 

[Lief]

Well... She had made it to the other side unscathed, in one piece, but that did not mean she knew where exactly the other side was.​

​

Asha did not immediately move. She gave herself a second to steel her nerves, before opening eyes she had not realized were closed and observing her immediate surroundings. Though she knew she was no longer in the midst of the Galaxy, she felt strangely at peace. Her breathing was regulated, as though she had simply found another brook to sit beside and enjoy some tea, in fact where she had expected a rather hellish landscape she found only a strangely comforting void before her.​

​

The chasm she had exited into was long, stretching as far as she could see both left and right, and so far across was it that she could not fathom any way to actually cross it. Did she even wish to cross it? Asha took a step closer, peering over the edge, and was surprised by the lack of vertigo she felt. She was not one who particularly enjoyed great heights, and this? Well... This had no bottom to speak of. An endless pit.​

​

But she did not fear it. Not even the concept of falling kept her from approaching further, til her toes curled over the edge of the rock and one stray gust of wind could have easily sent her toppling down. She rocked onto her tiptoes, then back to the balls of her feet, before taking one careful step back.​

​

The Force was heavy here, ever present as it had been back on Naboo yet... different. Thicker, almost. As though it did not simply permeate the things she saw, but made up their entirety. She exhaled a breath, and then turned from the alluring chasm to look behind herself. Had he also come this way? Had he looked upon this same, peaceful chasm as she?​

​

Was he still here now?​

​

Asha closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force she felt so readily she sought that one familiar spark she hoped to find. But there were so many beings, so many souls, that it was not as simple as she had first anticipated. How long she stood there she could not tell, time seemed impossible to comprehend. At some point, though she could not say when, she sank to her knees as her meditations grew deeper. She reached through it, past the entities which stood in her way, her hold upon the Force like seeking tendrils of nothingness.​

​

Sargon...​

​

She called to him once more.​

​

Sargon...​

​

She bellowed out through the Force, hoping and praying that somewhere lost within it all he would hear her, know that she had come. But why? What would he have her do, in so strange a land as this? With any hope, it would all make sense soon enough...​

​

Sargon Vynea ​

 

[Noelle Varanin]

Garden of Thorns
Kal​

Noelle knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Unfortunately that was not a lesson she had demonstrated on her first encounter with this keeper.

Even someone as determine as she was not immune mind-altering affects of this garden. In years to come she would look back on this venture and feel a flash of panic at her naivety. For now she felt invincible. Lost, but not without control.

She flushed at the site of the familiar at the demon, stating regretfully, "You're the guide." She could feel it in Kal's gut, her stomach twisting in response. The creature... bore a cut from her sword. She pinched the bridge of her nose, doing something unexpected and falling to her knees in a gesture of remorse. Court life had influenced her language of respect.

"Forgive me." She was more lucid in that moment, Kal's presence bringing more than just company. A whisper touched the edge of her mind, earning a subtle wince.

"I did not realize you were telling the truth." She had let her desperation blind her. She could practically sense Kal's upcoming incredulity. Sometimes, she deserved his scorn.

Kal

 

[Kal]

Noticing the guide's wound at around the same time as a spike of remorse travelled through his bond with Noelle, Kal spun around, white eyes flashing in shock and exasperation. "You did what?" Eying the blade with a mixture of disgust and concern, he quickly turned back to the Maelibus.

Gliding over to the guide, they seemed to engage in an unspoken conversation. After what could have been anything from two sentences to a hundred, given the potential speed of a skilled telepath, the Shadow drifted closer, carefully examining the wound. After some time, he nodded.

"You do not seem to have done any permanent harm. I think."

"You are not the first lost souls... lash out. Most do not carry such tools of destruction, however." After a weighty pause, the demonic-looking being seemed to make up its mind. "Your regret is genuine. I can tell. Very well, I forgive you... and will guide you from this cursed place."

Surprising, really - but in a way it made sense, even to Kal. The being had come here to help, to a place that swallows all hope. Caught up in their fear and despair, the shades that dwelled here were unlikely to be able to muster shame for their actions and a desire to reconcile.

<May I suggest learning to respond based on motives, not just appearances? You are a proper Force User, no?>

Noelle Varanin​

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

I know Dissero will point to my work on attuning part of the crystal matrix, but it's nothing compared to the artistry and technical specificity that went into making the weapon as a whole. I say weapon - the Waythorne is a tool. It might be his finest work. A knife that can pierce anything - including the boundaries of Netherworld planes - would be transcendently useful by itself, but its compass-needle direction capacity, its attunement to the bond between Spencer and me-

If I can learn to use this little thing to its full potential, it will lead me to her and shear through everything between us.

(source)​

It's already clear - standing at the Riverbank at the edge of the Bone Orchard - that I've guessed wrong. The Waythorne points away. Spencer isn't trapped in the dark chasms at the center of the Orchard. She's somewhere else entirely.

I'm afraid it might be the Dreaming Dark. It fits what I heard and felt from Spencer as well as the Bone Orchard's center did.

I'll leave the stockade camp; it's a useful base location, and easy for those still gathering to find. Once I've finished this writing meditation, I'll take a ferryman's boat with whoever's available and see how far I can get before the Waythorne leads off the River.

​

Spoiler

Dissero Spencer Varanin Seydon of Arda Noelle Varanin Kaalia Pavanos Kal Sargon Vynea Lief Ijaat Mereel