Faction Song and Story of the Witches of Ryloth Social [CIS]

[Vytal Noctura]

Nightlands, Ryloth
Mandragora, Knights Obsidian
Confederacy of Independent Systems​

The Mandragora had already been planning to host a gathering of Witches in the Nightlands of Ryloth even before the events of Founder's Day. A time for Sisters and Brothers to come together for the sole purpose of communing with one another as the family they were. Not everyone could attend, but the Nightmother made every effort to shoo people out of the Castle -- even the ones that seemed to enjoy perpetually haunting their chambers, study, ritual hall, or wherever else they hid to conduct their research. She was an exceptionally accommodating person when it came to allowing people to work in peace; but today was not one of those days. Sometimes you needed to be forced out of your comfort zone and be forced to confront those you much rather ignore.

After what happened on Founder's Day, however, this gathering became that much more important. Especially if she could drag people like Asher Mossa out from Raven's Point. Katrine Van-Derveld's betrayal of the Altar of Spirits would be weighing heavily on the minds of those that did follow the spiritual path of the Mandragora of Old. There was one thing -- perhaps the only thing -- that had been true from the lips of the Agents of Chaos that day... Vytal Noctura was not a Nightmother of the Past. She was not even a Nightsister of the Past. She had left Dathomir precisely because she looked to the future. Not the future of conquest, but of her people, her clan, and her family of Sisters (and now Brothers). Technology was just the most evident of things that must be embraced in order to survive. Adapting to a changing, growing world was another.

The Mandragora were not dogmatic. Strange as that sounded while Shaman among them adhered to certain rites and rituals in accordance with the spirituality emphasizing Jart, Lylek, and Doashim, it was not the extent of their entire coven. Obviously Katrine and the spirits that commanded her felt this 'betrayed' them. Perhaps it did. Perhaps the Mandragora as a whole did not need to be constrained to just those three spirits... there were many in the galaxy, and far beyond it. Vytal knew this. She felt and heard them. Creation was vaster than they knew -- or perhaps that many would accept. Had they abandoned the three spirits? Seeing how she still saw those Vytal and Pom had recognized as the Great Spirits of Ryloth, no, they had not abandoned them. Had they supplanted them? No, they were still cherished as driving forces on this world. Were they alone? No, most assuredly they were not alone, and the Mandragora were enriched because of the spirits -- whether 'good,' 'evil,' or somewhere in between.

There was still a place for the Shaman among them. Vytal would still lead them, as she would lead those that did not follow in their path.

But today was a day of celebration -- of the spirits, of one another, and of the place they called home -- and a chance to be free of the troubles and sorrows of recent times. A chance to dance about the raging fire, speak of strange and exotic creatures or brews, and enjoying the music, drink, and food that had been prepared for the occasion. Fear not the eyes that glow in the far deep of night, Mandragora, for wards have been placed to keep the beasts of the Nightlands at bay; perhaps a daring soul might even claim one or challenge it to fight for survival. The night was young, dark, and deep. Rejoice!

No Objectives. Just have fun! Meet new people, dance around the fire, gaze up at the stars...​

Spoiler: Tags

Alluria Ivalice
Alvida Osulf
Asher Mossa
Darth Metus
Darth Miseria
Effie
Julra Repraj
Lunara Azure
Pom Stych Tivé
Sabine Delacroix
Shamira Karuto
Solana Arasne
Taiia Locke
Viana Morreth
Kyyrk
Vytal Noctura

 

[Aries Creed]

Location: Ryloth, Nightlands
Wearing: This
Tag: Nimue

Ryloth. The last time Aries had been here the world was in the midst of a horrid civil war. It would be nearly three years ago to the day...although it was more apt to say it would be nearly twenty years from now. He'd learned that visiting places he'd been to in his own timeline was a wonderful way to induce a massive headache. He pressed a palm to his head as he exhaled, trying to draw the Force into him and dull the pain of his displacement sickness.

He came to Ryloth as part of the Confederate Relief Division sent to help with the reconstruction and security of the world. Events like the insurrection that had happened tended to make a planet a target for another strike, he and a detachment of the Knight's Obsidian were here to ensure that didn't happen. So while he was here he figured he may as well visit the event the Mandragora were hosting. Their kind had taken a considerable hit from the hit, maybe even more than the natives. Rumors spread that one of their own had betrayed them on this world. It was always difficult to tell what was truth and what was an exaggeration, still Aries thought it would be interesting to see the witches for himself.

Speaking of witches.

They'd been sitting in his starship for most of the day, waiting for the time to join the others. Aries had made a fatal flaw since he'd been cast back in time. Well, he'd made a few flaws but not one this large. He'd returned home. When he heard that Illyria was undergoing massive reconstruction and advancement projects he could not help but go back. He'd never seen his planet in the beginning of it's shining expansion and he was eager to see just how it had happened. When returning to Illyria he had visited the ancient temple of the Silma and that was where he had met her.

Nimue . Even when Aries had come into his own on Illyria he had not known much of Nimue. She was the High Priestess of the Silma and was a powerful wielder of the Dark Side of the Force. However the Silma were loyal, but not always open. It was not until the woman brushed past Aries and felt the echoes of his displacement through the Force that someone had figured out just who Aries was and where he came from.

Aries was less than happy with the discovery. Nimue had decided she would leave Illyria for the time being, so that she could watch over the Crowned Prince. It was the only way Aries could stop her from telling his parents the truth. In all honesty he did not know how they would react, but for now it was better they not know.

As time passed Aries could not lie, he was growing fond of some company during his travels.

"Kark!" Aries yelled out as he slammed a foot against the side of a crate.

The inside of the ship was so dark that the man could barely see where he was walking. He walked over to one of the nearby viewports, ripping down the black curtain they'd hung up for Nimue. The woman was some form of vampire that did not just thrive in the sunlight, so while they were on the eternal sunlight portion of the planet, they needed to block out some of the light. Aries turned the lights on in the main hold of the ship, calling out to the woman. "Nimue, are you awake?" He asked, walking over to her room and tapping the side of the bulkhead. He pulled a jacket on and ran a hand through his hair before chuckling to himself a bit.

The smell of cafe would drift through her door. He figured they could enjoy a cup before going out.

 

[Nimue]

L O C A T I O N | Ryloth - Nightlands
W E A R I N G | [x]
Aries Creed

“Kark!”​

From behind milk-white eyelids, bright eyes revealed themselves. Two beacons of orange flame, announcing her awakening to nobody but the deafening shadow that shrouded the room. A pale hand shifted elegantly through the darkness to rub the sleep from her gaze. “Are you awake?” A thin smile curved her painted lips upward at the forever curious tone that slipped under the crack in the door. Always, my prince. Roused by the powerful scent of caf joining the voice, Nimue shifted, shifting the silk sheets covering the bed with her. Slender legs covered in thin black silk reached out blindly for the cool metal floor, only finding purchase as she urged herself to sit up.

A flick of her wrist, coupled with an ebb in the force, saw the door of her chamber slide open with a hydraulic hiss. The blinding fluorescent light snatched its chance to tear into the room, chasing the sanctity of darkness away. “Language like that does not become you, Aries.” Her tone was of gentle chastisement, mixed in with her usual eerie melody of one who saw and knew far too much. However, there was a subtle smile on her face as she rose from her bed and swayed over to the wardrobe.

Behind the thin sheet metal doors, there was nothing but a row of raven dresses. A smattering of gold trimming on a few garments announced themselves like a deafening chorus of trumpets amidst the black.

Spindle fingers danced idly over the selection, until they landed on something that pleased her. “I’m assuming you woke me because we’ve arrived?” It wasn't a question, not when she already knew the answer. Nimue turned just a little, to place the dress on the hook that had been welded to the back of the wardrobe. Her feet carried her a few paces back, enough to see the entire dress in her field of vision. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I saw Vytal Noctura …” She punctuated the sentence with both of her hands cutting the air in two, from half way down her thigh to the top of her flowing snow white hair.

A pop filled the quarters, followed quickly by a thin veil of midnight black smoke. When it cleared, the dress that had hung from the door not too long ago, now sat snuggly on Nimue.

After a few moments, her fiery gaze drifted from it’s inspection of her dress to Aries. When it found him, her expression glowed, but only for a brief moment. “...I am sorry it had to be Ryloth. How long has it been?” In three graceful steps, that swayed the material resting on her hips dramatically, she had crossed the threshold from her room to the corridor where Aries stood. While waiting for a reply, Nimue drank the man in. His mystery had first tempted her. What purpose did such a soul have trawling the sacred corridors of the Silmä Temple? It wasn’t until she had touched him that she uncovered his secrets, the one he had desperately tried to hide from the rest of Illyria.

Foolish boy. Nimue could hear the echoes of her voice, repeating the first words she uttered to him on that fateful night. He had been foolish. Time travel was not something one idly dabbled in, nor should one expect little to no consequence if they chose to do so. It was something Aries had yet to realise. Nimue had insisted he tell his parents, for the protection that it would offer him, but he had refused. To placate the slowly building wrath of a High Priestess, and to put an end to her threat to tell them without his permission, Aries had agreed to let her join him.

It was an amicable resolution, but not a permanent one. Still, she had promised she would allow him to enjoy what he could until the time came. Beyond that, and something that definitely helped to sweeten the deal, since her appointment as High Priestess of the Silmä Nimue rarely had the opportunity to travel. This, or rather, he was the perfect excuse.

 

[Aries Creed]

Nimue's voice was like silk washed over a pond of fresh spring water. Still, he didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing his mind's deepest thoughts. When the door came open with a flourish of the force, Aries couldn't help but turn his eyes to the woman who laid before him. Her skin was pale and her eyes bright, drawing the darkness in the room into an even balance. He stepped inside and listened to her words, recalling the same words being told to him time and time before. "I could say it in High Illyrian if you prefer." He said with a bemused smirk upon his face. In fact, he particularly remembered saying that to his tutors in the earliest days of boyhood. He'd always had a mouth on him, even then.

Nimue stood, rising like the morning sun to the point where Aries found his eyes lingering a second more than they should. He didn't care. He liked to look at her, see the way she moved and walked about. It was a plaesent change from solitude. He breathed softly, sipping from his cafe before walking a step closer to the woman. "You'd be right." He said.

The smoke that filled the room was something that caused Aries' eyes to quirk. It was bizarre. Where as a boy he'd hated the parlor tricks of the Silma, he found them interesting when performed by Nimue. Maybe it was that she herself was so interesting or perhaps he'd just changed his perception in his later years. He looked over to the woman as she led herself towards him, admiring her form in the fine ebony silk. He was tempted to trace a hand along the thin fabric that hung from her waist, so he did. His hand came down, brushing against the dress as if testing it's silk. "Not a bad dress." He said, his eyes rising to meet hers for a brief second before he finally offered her the cup of cafe.

When next she spoke of Ryloth his eyes trailed away, not caring for the topic. "Three years." He said simply, before leading Nimue into the main hold of the ship. "It doesn't matter that it's Ryloth. The whole galaxy had gone to hell. Ryloth, Geonosis, Coruscant, Dromund Kaas....Illyria." He said, turning back to the woman pointedly. "Whatever it was that made the galaxy descend into madness, it was everywhere. Not just the home of the Twi'leks."

"If anything I'm just happy to see a Ryloth at peace." He said, before craning his neck in consideration. "Relative peace, that is." He said.

After drinking down a bit more of his cafe, he tapped his hand on the side of a counter. "Tell me about the Witches. Never really cared to learn about them. My father shoved lessons down my throat so every time he insisted I visit the Witches with him I politely declined." He seemed a bit proud of that fact. Aries did have a particular pride in drawing his path away from what his father had always wished.

Setting the cup down, Aries arched a brow at the woman. "How do you know Vytal? Nighmother isn't she?" He asked.

Nimue

 

[Nimue]

L O C A T I O N | Ryloth - Nightlands
W E A R I N G | [x]
Aries Creed ​

Her painted black lips could form no words, and only offered a tut in response, but she still smiled enough to put dimples in her cheeks. Any other man, woman, or child who dared offer Nimue such cheek would have been struck down before another word could fall from their lips. Fortunately for Aries, his noble bloodline offered him some leniencies, but even more so… Nimue was genuinely beginning to enjoy his company. A rare and strange occurrence for a member of the Silmä, who were prone to trusting no one. Even the royals of Illyria, to whom they had sworn their allegiance and loyalty.

A slight breeze caught the attention of her orange gaze, which flitted down to where Aries’ hand reached out to brush the silk dress. The High Priestess grinned, but coupled it with a shake of her head that disturbed the soft moonlight curls resting on her chest. “Not bad?” One of her slender brows lofted lazily as she met his gaze. “I think we ought to give you lessons on how to flatter appropriately.” Nevertheless, the gentle coo in her tone told Aries she was indeed flattered.

She placed her hand in his with a feather light touch, as though the entire appendage was formed from the smoke she conjured only moments ago. The sharp click of her heels resonated off the metal walls encasing them in the ship, but the jaunting sound only lasted the time it took for them to reach the main hold. Nimue sighed softly at his words, only offering acknowledging nods as he continued to speak. “You will learn, in time, that the Galaxy is an eternal cycle of tranquillity and discord. The Silmä are privileged in this regard. The Oracle blesses us with the ability to view the Galaxy as a vast tapestry, and to see the events that transpire as stories being woven into it with each passing moment.”

Nimue swept up the cup of caf that waited for her, and chose a seat to lower herself into gracefully. The rim of the mug pressed against her lips as she drew the first few sips of the steaming brew, then she settled back into the chair, stretching her body out till it made one elegant line from tip to toe. “My sisters and I have already seen the discord that transpired on Ryloth, and we foresee the tranquility that will follow. We do not have long to wait, as I’m sure you of all people are well aware.”

As her oddly soothing tone trailed off, Nimue took another sip of her caf. The sweet yet acidic liquid was something she had never really thought to try, until her adventures with Aries had begun. He was most assuredly addicted to the stuff, and there was no doubting that their journeys would fuel a similar addiction in Nimue. When Aries asked his question, her pale face turned upward to flash him a mildly entertained expression. “You are so much like him when he was your age, the similarities are almost unnatural.” She took another sip of caf, before placing the mug down on the counter to answer his original question.

“The Mandragora are an ancient sect of Dathomiri witches who take their lead from spirits and fangged gods, much like the Silmä take their lead from the Oracle. They are an extremely powerful and well respected coven, I was more than surprised to hear of the betrayal of the previous Nightmother, and the willingness of her new hoard of gremlins to attack it... “ Nimue paused, and at this point rose her brow again, in Aries’ direction. “They are also a very valuable and interesting source of information. Raven's Point is an exceedingly famed archive. It is a shame you didn’t pay more heed to your father.”

His next question was, in the High Priestess’ view, rather personal. Withdrawing slightly, Nimue took up her caf again and cast her gaze down to the curling tendrils of steam pouring from the cup. “The Silmä make it their business to know. I met her, when she first took up the mantle of Nightmother. As did many other coven leaders.” After finishing the last dregs of her caf, Nimue cleared her throat and rose from her seat. “How far are we?”

 

[Aries Creed]

He must admit to himself, there was some fun in the way he treated Nimue. In his old life he had known nothing of her, never even broken a word. Yet, in this timeline they'd shared some genuine time together. Still, Aries was a man who did as he wished, not as he was bid. His chocolate eyes washed over her carefully before he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Appropriate is for the courts." he practically whispered in a silk tone. He didn't care to upset her, but it was some fun to tease her, especially when the signs of flattery were so clearly displayed.

It was not until she began to speak of her Oracle that Aries seemed to turn his attention a bit. At least he made it appear so. He drank from his cup while his eyes canvassed the room they were in. He didn't search for anything in particular, rather he did not allow Nimue the pleasure of his eyes, to show he cared little for the ways of the Silma. Where his father was respectful and valued their insight, he could not bring himself to pretend to care. He'd prefer to have his own sight, something more concrete than the view of the Silma. "Yes, yes, I recall my lessons." He told her teasingly before downing the rest of his cafe. The drink filled his taste buds well with its bitter taste.

And then Nimue compared Aries to his father, as people were keen on doing. Though his features, his hair, even in some ways his attitude fell from his mother and the hot Creed blood inside of him there was no mistaking the resemblances to his father.

"As I am told." He said, matter of factually.

Aries listened to the woman's words and quickly chuckled before making his way over to the woman. When she rose, his hand reached out to take hers, guiding her closer to the man. "I thought it was the duty of the Prince to be better than the King, not an exact copy of him?" His hands fell to Nimue's waist and he looked down to her carefully before giving her a gentle squeeze and turning from her. When she asked how far they were, Aries held a hand out to the woman. "Not far at all." He said, this time offering the woman a rather genuine smile. He would lead her to the main door and escort her out. "I still don't really understand why you wanted to leave Illyria." He said, before shaking his head. "Actually, I know exactly why you wanted to leave, but I thought you Silma kept to yourselves."

He'd landed their ship just outside of the meeting area. in fact it was not long until the Nightmother came into view. Vytal Noctura caught Aries' eye and he soon turned to Nimue. "Seems your friend is here." Aries said with a gesture of his hand.

Nimue Vytal Noctura

 

[Nimue]

L O C A T I O N | The Gathering
W E A R I N G | [x]
Aries Creed | Vytal Noctura ​

That was the one thing she had yet to grow accustomed too, Aries’ blatant disregard for the ways of the Silmä. In time they would become his greatest ally, as they had been for many of the Kings in Illyria’s past. He would have to learn to trust them, even if they didn’t trust him.

“You will not get far in life being so closed to the views of others. Especially not those of the Silmä.” She chastised him, this time with a more firm tone than she had done previously. No matter how hard they tried, it would likely be a constant source of contention between them. Nimue relied on her sisters, as they relied on her. Their bond could not be broken or changed in any way, not even by those they blessed their loyalty upon. Before the conversation could diverge into further contention, they drew back to the subject of Adron. Nimue could only offer him a playful smile, which doubled when his hand encased hers.

“No, a duty of a monarch is to rule his people with a just and fair hand, while retaining the respect and admiration required for one of his standing. If you build on your father’s reputation to do so, then you are wise. He is a great man, and an even greater example of a king.” His hand fell to her hip, to which she shifted slightly, only doing so to press his fingertips further into her flesh. A moment that ended no sooner than it had begun. “Good, I grow tired of this ship.” Not too long after that, Aries guided her from the belly of the ship out into the shadow of the nightlands.

Nimue had always felt at home here, though she hadn’t stepped foot upon Ryloth for longer than she could recall. But all witches, no matter where they hailed from, lived amongst the spirits that called the darkness their home.

“I didn’t.” She said bluntly, in regard to his question of her leaving Illyria, as they walked toward an orange hue on the horizon. There was no need to lie to him. “And we do, more often than not. But there are matters we consider important enough to involve ourselves in. Like this.” One of her lithe hands gestured to Aries in his entirety. “True, I could have sent a Priestess, or a lesser one even, but your life cannot be gambled with." The last few words she spok with an air of seriousness. Though she would be unwilling to divulge anymore information to Aries on the matter, her tone of voice would indicate her statements importance. "And yes, I could have insisted we stay away from the watchful, curious eyes of others, and from tonight onward I likely will, but the Mandragora have suffered a terrible loss. A deep betrayal from one of their own kind, and then the destruction of their altar. While I am away from my sisters and the temple, I see no harm in exploring the benefits of diplomatic relationships. We are here to join them in their gathering, and to pay them the respects of the Silmä.”

They approached a blazing fire, with flames that leapt up in columns toward the pitch black sky. Nimue was entranced by the dance they performed against the midnight backdrop. Moving in ways that even her eyes could not match. Aries’ voice drew her attention back to the present, where she cast her gaze across the gathering that already surrounded the fire. It came to rest on the Nightmother of the Mandragora, to whom Nimue offered a warm smile. She would approach them when she was ready, but for now, the dancing flames beckoned.

 

[Vanir Eris]

Hearing about a gathering happening on Ryloth wouldn’t have normally been something he would have joined in, but the hosts of this gathering intrigued him. Nightsisters and their kin. Learning new techniques was always worthwhile and what he might learn could be applied for his work. Stepping out of his ship he took a deep breath to center himself. There were a lot of swirling energies, it felt as if the whole planet seethed in time to the pulse of what beat here.

He decided it would be best to find a place to sit down, at least till he adjusted to what was happening around him. He’d only ever experienced something like this on the rare occasions he had stepped foot in temples long forgotten. It always felt like he had walked into a swirling vortex of energies. Finding a rock he sat down, his head bowed a little, eyes closed.

After a few minutes he started to feel less dizzy, he stood up just as the tempo of the music picked up. A couple figures moved to the fire and threw something in that made it briefly change colors. As the wind shifted he breathed in the scent of whatever herbs and things had burned. A much sharper bout of dizziness had him sitting right back down as he coughed. He lifted his head deciding he’d better return to his ship to get his head cleared and froze.

Shadows were dancing, ghostly figures moved through the crowd and he wondered if he was going mad.

What is this?
An errant child of ours…
Mixed blood, pay it no heed.
He looks lost and overwhelmed.
Then it shouldn’t have come!
The Nightmother should know of this…
Oh how interesting this night has become!
Come lost child…
Dance with me…

Vanir could only stare up at the figure of a woman only he could see. There was a festival, a tradition in his clan, that honored the dead and gave them a place at the table. However he’d never seen any spirits return. Could this be something of the same? He tried to stand, but when he did he almost lost his balance. “I can’t… I’m sorry…”

She disappeared with a look of concern, but everything around him was disorienting. Colors, smells, sounds and even the presence of the people around him seemed to fill him and turn everything on its head. His heart was pounding and even his other half, his animal soul, didn’t give him something to keep grounded. The whole world was spinning and if he stood up, he might get thrown free. At least, that was what it felt like.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom started doing something she absolutely detests. She resolved to charter a transport to Ryloth.

The spirits informed her of a festival, where her distant family would gather. Her Nightsister kindred was scattered across the galaxy, and she often ventured to greet them where they dwell, as did they come to her. Sisterhood is the strongest of any bond, and luckily Pom has come to know of others.

She had been gone from Ryloth for a long time, long enough to have gone through a series of changes since she had been instantly drawn into the Empyrean. She learned that the reason behind the most strangest event of her life took place because the spirit of Ashla felt affronted by the studies Pom had conducted into the Force, during her drive to learn how to conquer the Light of the Force. She had been deposited in the Galaxy's Core, and there the inhabitants long labored to attempt her redemption. A strange phenomenon later took place among sacred burial grounds and Pom's soul became caught in a tug of war between the Ashla and her Fanged God, resulting in an oddity. Pom kept her shadow, and the Light of her spirit was drawn out of her to create another being named Spasa. Spasa vowed to re-instill Light into Pom, but Pom just vowed to kill her Light aligned Doppelgänger.

Her last change caused her to not regret a thing that had transpired. She exited the transport, preceded by her protector, an aspiring Knight. Pom's son nestled in a sling clung to her chest.



She snuggled him close as she made her way to the campfire to find a place to sit. She wouldn't be dancing this night. A plume of smoke veered in her direction, and she smiled watching her son successfully hold his breath. He has developed such defensive instincts already. She saw to his lessons personally, and she would see to it that he continues to grow strong in the ways of her people.

Pom searched the area for Vytal Noctura , to present her pride to her sister for the first time, hoping her son shall receive his blessings on this night. She drew her shawl over him as he slept peacefully, and allowed her thoughts to become caught up in the visions generated by the dancing flames. She knew that soon she would meet everyone.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

After recent events, Vytal Noctura had been stretched quite thin. Any time the Fanged God deigned to use her as his personal vessel in the world of the Living it took a great deal out of her; though for better or worse this time wasn't as severe as previous occurrences. At least she'd not crumpled much like a marionette with its strings cut. Though she might as well have when she found the Altar somehow broken. Naturally the Fanged God shrugged it off and said something about Madalena somehow predicting the future to know he intended to shift the Altar's position. He also crowd about how smug the Agents of Chaos felt leaving the site as though they'd claimed a great victory. That did little to set the Nightmother's heart at ease, however.

To think they would destroy something so ancient to say something that could have easily been said with words. The Castle was open to all that sought to learn and research the mysteries of the Living and Dead alike. To resort to explosives before even attempting to hold council... Will of the spirits indeed. What savage souls could she possibly be enslaved to unable to do so much as write a letter before resorting to the travesty atop the Altar of Spirits' mountain.

Recuperation was in short supply, as Vytal forced herself from the bed Sisters and Brothers went on about being where she belonged. As though the Nightmother could afford to sleep while others relocated and reassured the Twi'lek -- those from the dome especially, but across the face of the planet. Even the Castle itself had people clearing the mess that resulted from an explosive detonation. An unexpected turn that Tarkona, her Ouroboros Krayt Dragon companion, made sure to remind Vytal had been thwarted in large part due to her. Such a fine beast demanded nearly as much attention in pomp and praise as the entire people of Ryloth did in reassurance and aid.

But it was not all work and toil. Thankfully much of the planning for the gathering this evening had been completed before the attack. Vytal drew in a deep breath as she stood before the fire. The heat only made it more difficult to observe the way the towering inferno danced, and the shilouttes of the women and men about it, given how dry her eyes already were from exhaustion. The responsibilities of being Nightmother -- sometimes you had to feign being of good cheer even while the world collapsed about you. Given everything the Mandragora and people of Ryloth had been through, however, they deserved this night. A time to get together and enjoy one anothers' company without the need for missions, deadlines, and battle. Too much conflict of late when such was not to be the burden of the Witches.

Unlike many other times any would see Vytal, however, tonight she was not wearing her red armor. In fact, the pale Nightsister of Dathomir wore very little. A red cloth to hang over her shoulders and conceal her breasts, and tight legging wraps that reminded her of when she stalked the surface of her birth home.

A subtle turn of her head followed the arrival of the High Priestess of the Silma ( Nimue ) and her guest ( Aries Creed ). Vytal's green eyes caught the light of the fire that highlighted the dark lips turned upward at the woman's arrival. Now was a good time for Sisters and Brothers of many covens to meet one another and bask in the radiance of their union. As more came, they were draw upon them the eyes of countless spirits eager to see what brought such an assortment together. What they might find in disappointment as a lack of ceremony to amass power or the lack, the many present would make up for in fervor. Passion, after all, was not to be avoided as the Jedi often did, nor to be surrendered to thoughtlessly as the Sith; it was a power unto itself, and it would shine gloriously this night.

Suddenly there were voices on the wind. More than the chants to encourage the Living to dance faster and more vigorously, or those of terrors that cackled with delight hopefully a powerful spell would empower them this night. No, these were of a soul -- a man -- among them that was of a kind. The Nightmother slowly slid a foot back to turn and look in Vanir Eris ' direction. The male seemed overwhelmed with what was on display before him. But not in the sense that a Nightsister might sneer at male lusting over beautiful and excited female figures (or male ones). His form held the appearance of the exhaustion Vytal herself felt. Yet he had found a perch to rest, and had not thrown himself into the embrace of the 'barbaric' beat of the drums.

Slowly the pale woman drew closer to Vanir as a gaggle of spirits darted about. They were certainly buzzing about their 'catch.'

"Vanir Eris," the Nightmother intoned as she stopped three feet before him with her green eyes gazing at his crumpled form. "You appear tired, yet you have only just arrived." Vytal bent her upper body over and extended a hand out toward him. "The first time can be overwhelming. Wouldn't you agree?"

A discrete shift of Vytal's eyes in the direction of Pom Stych Tivé followed, but they quickly shifted back to the man before her. Her Sister had come back to Ryloth? Of course she would like nothing more than to embrace her fellow Nightsister, but there was a man in crisis before her. Apparently one whose knowledge of the spiritual realm had just been awakened. A pivotal moment that required the Nightmother's attention for the moment. The night was long, however -- perpetual, in fact, on this side of Ryloth -- and Vytal would be certain to enjoy the company of all that came.

Tag: Aries Creed | Nimue | Vanir Eris | Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Aries Creed]

As they moved about the meeting area, Aries found a place for them to sit. He guided Nimue to set close to him as his eyes danced around the others who gathered among them. He knew little of the Witches of the Mandragora, in fact he probably knew less about him than most other force orders in the galaxy. Why? Because in many ways they were like the Silma, their ways were as strange to him as a Jedi's ways were to a simple spacer. However, there was a thought that perhaps by closing off some of that ignorance he could better himself and better his timeline. He glanced over to Nimue, looking to her for the briefest of moments before speaking.

"The Mandragora and the Silma. They both believe there are deities that make their abilities possible? So how do they view the Force? I was taught that the Force exists in many different faces, but even my father never fully understood the way the Mandragora or the Silma saw things." He said.

They sat only a few feet from a blazing fire. Aries looked to it with some interest. "My father believes he's only scratched the surface on the Force and he's been training in it since birth. Jedi, Sith, he's dipped his hands into all of it. So in the end what makes the differences? Something as simple as good and evil? Light and dark?"

He'd always had these questions, just never the inclination to ask. Sill, he waved his hand as if dismissing the question entirely.

Nimue

 

[Vanir Eris]

Voices, so many voices and none of it made sense. It seemed to him that suddenly he was swarmed and anyone else might have brushed them aside like scattering a swarm, but he couldn’t. He physically and spiritually was rooted in space as everything in sight wheeled and danced madly. Only one voice seemed to be the most sympathetic, the one who asked him to dance. Her reappearance brought an odd pang to his chest.

The pain you feel, your blood calls to me…
Perhaps your blood paid homage to me once?

Vanir sucked in a breath. “I… Wouldn’t know.”

Which was true, his father’s blood ran strong, but his mother never had a chance to teach him of where she had come.

Help will come child, you won’t be lost for long.

Lost? He certainly knew where he was, but then the burden upon him eased and a woman came within sight. When she reached out her hand he grabbed it like he was drowning, he was. However almost immediately everything seemed to pause and a wave of relief washed over him. “I… I think I made a mistake…” He swallowed breathing. “Never felt like this this strongly nor…” He looked around a bit apprehensive. “Them… I don’t understand.”

He looked up at the woman oddly feeling bereft now that the swarm of dancing whispers were gone. “Where did they go?”

As overwhelming as it had been, he felt as if something important was gone. It was like her presence tilted the world back into place, but having seen the world tilted he felt like a piece of himself was missing. He let go and wiped at his face to stare at the tears he hadn’t known he had shed at the loss. “I apologize if I caused a problem…”

He hadn’t, he was sure, but suddenly he felt very embarrassed and incredibly confused. What was going on? The night had taken an incredibly strange turn and weirdly he wanted to snatch it back. Who was the woman he had seen? What did she mean his blood may have once paid her homage? There were so many questions and none of it made sense. “How did you know my name and may I know yours?”

 

[Telula Vale]

Location: Ryloth - Nightlands
Attire: [This]
Tags: | Open |

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How long had it been since she had felt like she fit in anywhere? How long since she had been comfortable in her own skin, and not afraid to open her door in the morning to emerge for the day? Honestly, Telula couldn't seem to recall, for it had certainly been quite some time since such a thing had occurred for her. Granted, she was still terribly shy. Places were so much easier to get used to than people - though her Galek hound Kai certainly did not seem to have this same issue. For a beast who was utterly protective of his owner, the beastly animal found peace among these people they had found home with.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy for Little Lula to leave her studies and venture out into the night without so much as a second thought - or, perhaps it had been the look on the Nightmother's face when the ashy-blonde's presence had been requested. Either way, the young witchling had changed from lounging, study attire into something much more comfortable - though admittedly was something she never would have ever thought she would wear in her life. The fabrics were soft to the touch and oh so very light against her frame. If it wasn't for the occasional brush of such fabric against her skin, Lula probably would have continuously checked to make sure she had not been pranked and her attire enchanted away from her frame. But as it were, all was intact as it should be.

She had been drawn more than once to the line of protective wards that barred all manner of creatures from this celebration. Lula did not dare cross them, but the occasional thoughtful hum would vibrate her vocal and curiosity would darken her gaze as she peered into the night. Imagine all matter of things that were peering back at her...and yet this thought did not deter her, no it did not frighten her away. There was a pull to such creatures, but it was not a pull she desired to sate this night. So she would eventually always flit back to the flames, avoiding what few bodies there were with well practiced ease.

It's not that she had no desire to be around these brothers and sisters of the night! Lula was just...still unsure. People she had never met always set her on guard, and the Nightmother seemed busy - not that Lula ever intentionally bugged her either. So, she maintained distance for now. But there was a gruff noise nearby that drew her attention, and she grinned broadly at Kai before she closed the distance between herself and the hound. "Such a big baby." she teased the creature, though that was not at all true. Telula and Kai were a literal killer team when they needed to be, but tonight? He was just a big baby who immediately rolled over for belly scratches.

A fact that made Lula sigh at him and shake her head before she crouched down to oblige. Beastly creatures were indeed so much easier to be around and deal with than humanoids were...

 

[Haven]

B O N F I R E​

Interacting With: Open​

Nearby: Vytal Noctura , Aries Creed , Vanir Eris , Telula Vale , Nimue , Pom Stych Tivé ,

Seek ye first the Ram.

To obey was to submit. To prostrate one's whole self before the will of another. Such things were anathema to the One - save for this singular command. Uttered by the dying gasps of the Scorned Mother, Haven was compelled to see them to fruition. Why? For it was her blood which gave forth to his creation. For it was her sacrifice which allowed him to live. By the cacophony of black within him, the edict was quite literally his own. Thus, the way forward had been set. He followed the echoes of his own blood across the stars. Power whispered within his veins, running hot with the might of those who had come before. The lineage of the Maiden - she who had carried him - was fierce. Ferocity was elementary to follow.

The path had led to Ryloth.

For weeks now, the One had taken the time to witness the destination in full. He wandered about the habitable wildlands. Braving the ferocious beasts and taking shelter within caverns. His way was terror incarnate to those few "civilized" souls which crossed his path. Yet, for the minority brave enough to stand before him, tales of recent events reached his ears. This world had been the site of suffering at the hand of deceivers. They lauded themselves as heroes, yet brought destruction down upon Ryloth's surface. Armies of riders and...emus assaulted their homes, whilst some native minds were twisted beyond all repair. In the end, peace had returned to the distant world - and with it mention of the word Mandragora.

Mandragora. The midnight within leapt as the title reached his ears. It was such that the One had to investigate with his own two eyes. Their beliefs were well known here, for it was this very world that their teachings were uncovered. Haven did not experience much in the way of difficulty when it came to encountering one of their own. The Twi'lek in question was more than happy to play the part of guide - which was fortunate...for their sake. Thus, on the day of celebration, a speeder arrived slightly late to the budding festivities. The pilot was none other than the guide. And the One clutched fast to his waist.

Upon disembarking, Haven found himself intruding upon holy ground.

With the raging bonfire captivating his mortal eyes, he witnessed the presence of the spirits. The ancestors danced as the flames - rejoicing in the presence of their stewards. There was power here. Community. Family. Not unlike the Scorned which had reared the One. It was this familiarity which paused the brutality within his veins, and allowed him to approach the roaring flames. He did not dance. He did not yet speak. He simply listened - to the music, to the mirth, and to the spirits.

For now, this would do.

For now, this could be Home.​

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[Nimue]

L O C A T I O N | The Gathering
W E A R I N G | [x]
Aries Creed ​

Nimue scoffed, loud enough to be heard over the crackle of the flames. “We do not believe. We know. Magik and the spirits are two separate entities. The difference being that Oracle, and the spirits, drive the Silmä and the Mandragora. They do not bless them with their powers, but they are a guide on how to utilize them. In much the same way the sith code and the jedi code are guides. The difference is that our code, the Oracle and the spirits, are ever changing, and thus we are ever growing, ever learning.”

Her nimble fingers shifted the mass of snow white hair from her shoulders, revealing her back, which Aries had seen many times before. “Much like the spirits of the Mandragora mark their followers with scars, so too does the Oracle.” Imprinted into her back, snaking all the way down to beyond the borders of her dress, and up to behind her ears, was an intricate pattern of scars. Their edges were jagged, shaded an ebony that faded toward a centre of molten gold. Most swore that if they gazed too long at them, the gold would shift, like a river flowing from the base of her spine twisting and turning over the pattern of lightning formed scars.

“These were given to me on the day the Silmä offered me the position of High Priestess. At the top of the pyramid, when lightning struck.” Her hair suddenly fell, settling down against her back and once again covering the soft gold glow of the scars. “Not by man or beast, but by an entity neither you nor I could ever hope to understand. The same is true of the spirits of the Mandragora. If you do not believe in their existence, I shall show you myself once their altar is resorted.”

“No, Aries.” Nimue responded simply and shook her head, completely ignoring his wave of dismissal. He was headstrong. Both father and son had difficulty admitting where their knowledge lacked. It was something Nimue displayed very little patience for. The High Priestess had spent the last century or two in her position, which required an endless chase for knowledge, and still there were things she did not know. “There is no such thing as light and dark. There is only power, and amongst it those who choose to use it for good and those who choose to use it for more nefarious purposes. When we align ourselves to one or the other we can only ever achieve the limits already laid out for us by those who came before.”

“True knowledge, and true power, lie in mystery. Nobody will ever know all there is to know, including your father.” Her gaze trailed from the flickering flames that flashed a rainbow of colours, to Aries. Who sat looking at the inferno with the same interest Nimue had. “Who is the most powerful soul you know of?” She asked him with a curious tilt of her head. “Dead or alive, it does not matter either way.”

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal stood bent over as she watched and listened to the man even after he released her hand. His thoughts and his words were all over the place. Vanir Eris even paused long enough to apologize for causing a problem. As though sitting down were a crime. Considerate, but wholly unnecessary.

Slowly her hand lifted to gently touch the underside of the man's chin to ensure their eyes met, and his thoughts were focused in the moment. "Vytal Noctura," she replied softly as another woman appeared nearby and began to pour the man a goblet of water. Her touch left him as Vanir seemed to still possess some manner of self-control. "Take this. Drink slowly, and listen." The pale Witch smiled for just a moment as he was given time to take the refreshment.

"Tonight is one where Witches and Warlocks have gathered without restraint and with no purpose in their cries to the spirits. It is one of revelry and communion. Gathered in such number and of such invigoration, a child like yourself was certain to hear their voices. That is, after all, what you heard and saw, was it not?" Vytal paused to smile. "Spirits. Specters. Those not of this realm."

"They told me," Vytal answered at last. "You were known to them, and as such to the Nightmother whose spirit is always open to their voices, weak or strong. I did not expect them to find one like yourself this night. Now that they have... You should consider visiting one of the Mandragora covens throughout the Confederacy -- or here, on Ryloth. There is much we could teach you. If you seek it."

That was the 'rub' was it not? The Mandragora did not secret children away to teach them of spirits like Jedi or Sith might. Though they might keep an eye on those particularly connected to the currents of the realm -- to ensure others did not seek to corrupt them and turn them into weapons. To connect with the spirits was a deeply personal matter; one that should be desired, not forced upon them. Though there was some that felt it had been forced -- and they were not wrong. Unlike the Mandragora, the spirits did as they pleased and cared not if they were overbearing or insensitive. Such were the ways of things.

Tag: Aries Creed | Nimue | Vanir Eris | Pom Stych Tivé | Telula Vale | Haven

 

[Julra Repraj]

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Wearing: [X]

Julra had arrived late, mildly ironic given her abilities to manipulate time and space itself; phenomenal powers of temporal magic aside though late she had arrived in time to partake in the festivities. Part of her might have questioned the wisdom of holding this meeting so close to tragedy but at the same time, she knew that like her, her brothers and sisters needed time to unwind and heal. For her part, she was unable to truly focus even now. Still, she felt she had failed to help in any meaningful way, sure she had managed to actually fold space between the capitol dome and the castle, certainly a first for her to be able to do that on such a large scale but it had nearly taken all her power to do just that and nearly collapsed in the process. Afterward, she had slept through the remainder of the battle because of that powerful drain on her. As she rolled over the events in her mind she sighed quietly She was furious with herself but the only condemnation came from her own mind and no other. ​

Relenting finally and forcing the thoughts from her mind she turned her attention to those gathered and allowed her eyes roam there were many here that she knew, yet still, many more faces that she did not recognize. Either way, it would be a long evening and she would endeavor to do her best to be entertained lest she tempt the wrath of the Nightmother. A small frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she gently walked to where a table nearby with food and drinks had been arranged in a rather neat array the young blonde woman let her eyes roam the table before she spotted what it was she wanted to retrieve, a glass filled with wine taking one in hand she retreated from the table to find a place near the fire.​

As she sat her eyes continued to roam and found her earlier observation still rang true, so many faces she did not know, her eyes, however, did find the Nightmother nearby tending to a man who seemed to be overwhelmed by the spirits a gentle smile tugged at her lips in understanding. She lifted her glass before swirling the crimson liquid before pressing her lips to the glass taking a gentle sip. Looking into the fire and listening to the flames crackling and popping she finally began to relax, whichever spirit or god of late had it out for her she would be more than happy if they would take the night off.

TAG: Aries Creed | Nimue | Vanir Eris | Pom Stych Tivé | Telula Vale | Haven | Vytal Noctura

 

[Vanir Eris]

The water helped settle his nerves even as her words just brought more questions.

What use does a muddied blood like this have to us?

All at once his demeanor changed, his eyes blazing red gold and where Vair’s spirit had been shaken, another brighter spirit took over. His other half blazed light a fire, anger and rebuke burning. The hissing voice fled, but then he turned his gaze to the woman.

She would see two spirits sharing the same skin, one who was the man and the other a wild and proud beast-soul who spent more time more spirit than owning the skin. They were tied to one another, some bastard mix of magic, force and science. Yet to free them both would also unmake them and so one could sense the balance between them. Eris had been in the background watching, but with how fragile and shaken his human soul was, he rose up to defend him from the nastiness spat with a forked tongue.

Studying her he settled down, but was far from appeased though he did not speak to her. He simply subsided so that his other half returned. Vanir rubbed the middle of his forehead with a sigh. “I’d come here with that intent, I was just over come by everything after setting foot to soil. I expected to feel the weight of everything, as I do whenever I go to any old place, but whatever was thrown into the fire caused well, this.”

Truth was the energies still tried to lure him in, to get him to lose his reason, but though his spirit was shaken his will was still strong. If he reached with this raw and new sense he could hear the whispers, but doing so was painful. It felt like something in his mind tore revealing some new pathway, but if touched before it could heal would just be misery. Her presence had simply jerked him back from that doorway, not that she had done anything herself. Truth was, it was a lot like being a child again wiggling a loose tooth despite the fact it hurt. The urge to poke and prod it was strong.

He looked up at her and gave her a wry smile. “Made a mess of my plans like usual. If you will have me, I would certainly like to learn whatever you would like to teach me. I know very little about your people, though I was under the impression I would be sent to a male coven, not offered to learn from a… Witch?”

He hesitated with that, not quite sure if that was the right way to phrase it, but at the risk of offence he spoke the only thing that seemed ‘right’. “I never got to know my mother nor did my family know from where she came. Had she lived after my birth perhaps I would have learned from her. Only thing my eldest brother told me was that both her hands had been painted with black ink from fingertips to elbows. I have a drawing he did, but I didn’t think to bring it.”

Of course, he also hadn’t known he had a lick of connection to these people either. He had just assumed like everyone else that she had simply marked her skin as people do. His brother had often remarked that there was something mysterious about her. Perhaps this was it? “My home is on Arbra, I’d love to invite you and anyone you’d like to bring along. Perhaps I might even be able to convince you to allow some of your people to make some of the land their home. There isn’t much that lures tourists and I’ve plans to build a city that pays respect to nature, not ravage it…”

He trailed off not wanting to go on at length over a subject that could easily distract from his original purpose. “Get me started about work and I’d bore you to sleep.”

Vytal Noctura

 

[The Monster]

Location: Ryloth en-route to some festival in the Nightlands
Objective: For the first time in almost 4 years, try to relax
Wearing: This
OOC note: He hasn't fully healed from damage during the battle, so his body is pretty scarred up.
Tags: Open, Rann Thress
​

Sergei didn't know what to think. In the couple of days after the battle for Ryloth he'd had several startling realizations dawn on him. His time in the Confederacy was soon to be over. He was considered by most a criminal. He'd lost so many in the pursuit of peace, in the pursuit to shield the masses with his and his men's lives. He would soon be to trial, while the cuff around his ankle tracking his exact location didn't exactly worry him, because a man like him didn't run, the fact that he was about to be in chains did. That he'd seen a threat and responded the only way he knew how. He didn't know what he felt. Grief? Rage? Sorrow? Hate? All of these emotions washed over him as he walked through the Nightlands towards some festival that had been mentioned in passing, and while he was technically a criminal, the men overseeing his forced stay had seen fit to let him loose. Let him get some fresh air as it was.

They'd dropped him off close as they'd dared to try and not interrupt the this festival of witches and space magic. All of the things Sergei never understood, and even now had now idea how any of it worked. He just knew that a lot of people were somehow able to do things not normally humanly possible. And even for Sergei that was a tall order as he'd joined the Army at 15, arrived to a special forces unit just as he was legally of age to actually join the military, and had done so under some of the most brutal conditions imaginable. He'd survived blizzards, wars, literally almost a decade of non-stop combat from Ord Janon, to the Republic, to Atrisia, and then finally ending here. A decade of sacrifice. A decade of knowing nothing but war.

His massive frame would be ridiculously easy to spot, even in the simple black turtleneck and some polyester pants that he'd borrowed from a cheap store. His sandals, which he'd chosen because they were literally the only thing that fit his feet, were funnily enough khaki colored. As he approached the bonfire and festivities, Sergei would get that feeling going up the back of his neck that something was off. The place was, eerily enough, alive with energy. He shook his head as he kept his hands in his pockets and approached the party from the outskirts. This place was giving him chills, but he figured one thing, if these people were fine enough having a low down dirty mercenary like him fight alongside them, surely they wouldn't kill him on sight. Right?

Sergei honestly hoped they would. Would take away the guilt he felt. The rage. The hollow emptiness he felt having lost his home, his friends, no his family, all in the service to the only cause he ever truly believed in. Protecting those that couldn't protect themselves. To be a shield to grant others safety, a flaming sword in the darkness of chaos and fear felt by all surrounded by war. A beacon of hope. Sergei himself didn't know what to now though. His mission was done. He had no ship, no home, and the only thing he saw in the foreseeable future for him was the only thing he'd ever dared to try and create and love be destroyed by its own cause. And yet he knew. He knew this day would come. When the reaper demanded blood for deeds done. A sacrifice to achieve the impossible. And Sergei had defied death on many occasions, he'd actually lost count of how many times. No one ever cheated death like he had and ever truly got away.

And now, Sergei was approaching a ceremony that most considered to be a death wish to try and enter without proper credentials. Like being a Nightsister or a member of the Mandragora. Neither of which Sergei had. And for some reason he didn't really care. He just hoped that they had something here for him to drink. He hadn't taken the time to relax or go on any kind of recovery for a little over three years now. For once he had no objectives. No mission. No hill to attack and take. No one to fight for and nothing to train for. He wondered what it would be like. Even before on the Aegis while others took shore leave, Sergei would meticulously go over his weapons, train with combatives, weights or even just running simulations and going over infantry based tactics on the ship. He did so because he was The Dire Wolf. And if he was to set an example he had to be the absolute best. His 'Wolves had a reputation on the field for being the most aggressive and tactically proficient force in any field of battle, a sledgehammer with the precision of a scalpel. It had started with him. And for the first time in three years he had nothing to plan for. No new tech to test for weapons' combat viability, no battles to prepare for, or men to train. It was just Sergei, and Sergei alone without a mission.

The thought terrified him, which was why he was here. Maybe these people with their crazy talk and voodoo like religion would give him something to do, something to appreciate. Because right now he was spinning out of control without something to guide him.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal turned her head slightly to the right to regard Vanir from another angle. That some part of him found her intrusive did not shake him free of the Nightmother. If she were so easily frightened the spirits of Ryloth truly would have suffered from such leadership as Katrine claimed. A Nightsister, however, never turned in the face of fear or death. They fought to the last. And they led through the darkest valley just to save one of their own.

"Yes," the pale Witch replied calmly, "the weight of the unseen world. Unheard voices that press upon you eager to tell you their tale, or beckon you into their arms." Evidently something the man felt many times before, but never had it broken through as it had today. Then again, Vanir had never been in the presence of an entire coven as it danced under the star lit sky before a flame. It was a ritual, just not one meant to raise the dead or shatter an army.

A smile graced Vytal's lips as her green eyes held an otherworldly glow in the dark even with her back to the fire. Why would Vytal take offense? Vanir seemed to understand the ways of the Nightsisters -- or those whispers offworlders shared believing they understood those of Dathomir. Enough to wonder about his place among Witches at any rate. She did not interrupt as Vanir continued, however. There was much time to share this evening, and in the days to come.

"We would be honored to visit your home, Vanir, and if you would welcome us we could establish ourselves among you. We share with those whose worlds we visit. It is the natural world around us that sustains our being and energizes the soul; I would be quite interested to learn more of this city." She paused to smile and tilt her head down slightly. "Later. For now, you should stay. Do not strain or throw yourself into the arms of the spirits before you are ready; there will be time for that. Just listen and feel the pulse of the moment, the rhythm of the drums, and the elation of your Sisters and Brothers. They will be as excited to meet you as any spirit should you desire it."

What had been said of his mother was of interest. Perhaps she would hear more of it from the spirits -- if they deign to make known their thoughts -- or that Vanir himself might say more when the time was right. A drawing of black ink patterns might tell the tale of his Mother's origin. She looked forwarded to learning more of it. For the same reason Vytal had fought so hard over a battered and worn Altar, she had the same interest in the man's past; what came before laid the groundwork for everything that followed. If you did not understand from whence a course was set, and where it was now, how could you begin to predict its future?

"Shall I introduce you to some of those that have joined us this evening? I feel there are several that are in need of a sympathetic ear."

Tag: Aries Creed | Nimue | Vanir Eris | Pom Stych Tivé | Telula Vale | Haven | Julra Repraj | The Monster