Faction Sorcery 101 (Open to all Darksiders)

[Madrona A’Mia]

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Tags: TSC | TSO | OPEN to Darksiders
Prelude​

Still recovering from recent events on Brosi, A'Mia had decided to make her first foray from the holy worlds to pay a visit to Lysander and his burgeoning projects amongst the Sith Covenant. Truth be told, she had ample personal investment in the newest upstarts on the galactic block as well. Now more than ever, the neti foresaw a Sith Golden Age as a distinct probability.

It wasn't her first time on Pelagon, in fact she was practically a founder of this particular academic location alongside Mercy and Lysander von Ascania .

When her aquatic shuttle arrived to dock, the seal hissing softly to form airtight connection, the neti made her way at once to the wing of the submerged building that her business partner had indicated. Despite a rough few weeks, A'Mia was newly animated with creative energy. Nothing brought her alive quite like teaching did.

Sweeping into the room which was empty save for one familiar face, A'Mia set her large duffle bag down and beamed warmly. A true smile which lit her eyes and brought lines to her face was a rare sight indeed but today it came easily.

"Lysander, how pleased I am to see you Little Sprout."

Present​

Room filled with students and fellow academics alike, the anticipation was as palpable as it ever was in such a setting. Some were bored already, counting down to the end of session, whilst others practically sat on the edge of their seats.

A'Mia remained serene in the face of it all. Dressed in simple purple, floor length robes, the neti stood at the center of the rounded classroom and raised her bright voice above the murmurs in order to call their lesson to session.

"Welcome! Today, we will be focusing on simple sorcery. The likes of which will eventually translate to larger workings."

She gestured with a flourish to the desks they sat at, turning in a half circle to ensure she was addressing them all clearly.

"You'll each find a sheet of premium vellum, as well as various arcane ingredients and implements laid out before you. You'll be learning to craft a very simple item with ritual and those foundational skills will then be used to build more complex sorceries as you continue your careers."

She finished the turn and stopped again, winking at Lysander who sat nearby as both teaching assistant and student himself.

"Any questions before I provide a brief demonstration and allow you all to begin?"

 

[Warpriest Prime]

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O B J E C T I V E | Learn Some New Magic Tricks
L O C A T I O N | Pelagon Campus

Lysander von Ascania | Madrona A’Mia

O P E N​

Pelagon Campus slumbered beneath crushing tides, its spired silhouette shimmering through curtains of drifting plankton and bioluminescent shoals. The submerged structure rose from the ocean floor like a cathedral drowned on purpose, sea Gothic arches webbed in coral bloom, stained glass windows refracting the deep into bruised violets and abyssal blues. The Force moved differently here. She could not quite place it, but she knew it was different than other places she had been. Different than the monasteries of The Ark for sure...

Within one of its rounded lecture halls, the water beyond the transparisteel walls pressed close, vast and watching.

The room buzzed with anticipation as A'Mia called the lesson to session, her voice bright and lilting, cutting cleanly through murmurs and shifting robes. Vellum sheets lay pristine upon each desk, accompanied by neat arrangements of arcane implements. Ink vials. Powders. Small carved talismans. The promise of something subtle and precise.

The doors at the back of the chamber opened with a heavy, reluctant sigh.

The Priestess entered like a siege engine that had taken a wrong turn and found itself at university.

She carried too many things. A stack of old religious texts bound in worn leather. A satchel stuffed with items that clinked ominously. What might have been a reliquary. She paused just inside the threshold, five eyes blinking as she adjusted to the room's hum. The Force here felt...organized. Shelved. Indexed.

It was deeply suspicious.

She began the careful process of finding a seat. Careful, for her, still involved minor structural complaints from the floor. Students subtly gathered their robes and knees as she passed. Dima offered a polite nod to absolutely no one in particular and settled squarely in the middle of the room, close enough to observe, far enough to avoid being distracted by sideways glances.

She placed her books down with reverence.

Then she looked at the vellum.

Brows furrowed.

One large claw lifted the sheet cautiously, as if expecting a trapdoor beneath it. She peered under the desk. Nothing. No hidden compartments. No blood circle. No sacrificial geometry carved into the wood.

She slowly set the vellum back down.

"...Huh."

When A'Mia asked for questions, one of Dima's four arms shot straight into the air with startling enthusiasm. The movement was so sudden a nearby inkwell trembled.

She sat up straighter, clearing her throat as if she had been doing this her entire life.

"Yes!" she boomed, far louder than necessary, before lowering her volume with visible effort. "I mean. Yes, I have one."

All five eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity.

"Is this magic...cool?" she asked bluntly. "Like, will it glow? Or explode? Or summon something with too many teeth?"

A pause. She leaned forward slightly.

"I just want to calibrate expectations early so i thought i'd ask~"

The room had gone very still.

"And please," she added with sudden, heartfelt seriousness, "don't tell me sith sorcery is just...magic math."

 

[Nilira Vornix]

Tag: Lysander von Ascania Madrona A’Mia Warpriest Prime

Sorcery. How quaint. Nilra sat off to the side of the classroom, focused on her own studying as she flipped through her journal, preparing to add more notes to the contents. Much of what she felt had been poured into the pages, indirectly infusing it with the Force as well. It might not have been made out of fancy vellum or pristine leather, but in a way, she already had an innate skill for Sorcery. The Force had always been something she excelled with, as opposed to her physical aptitude.

It was one of the few classes she could take part in, without feeling like she'd be targeted for being weak. There had been that alchemy class she heard about, but alchemy wasn't specifically in the skillset of what she wanted to learn. Not yet at least. Perhaps it would come another day. For now, her focus was on learning how to better influence the Force. How to bend it to her own cause. There had been many a ritual she had read about in the library, yet never quite attempted herself. She never saw much of a need to.

In a way, this was her first proper lesson as an Acolyte. One where she wasn't being thrown into. Perhaps she'd be able to fit into this cla-

"Is this magic...cool?" she asked bluntly. "Like, will it glow? Or explode? Or summon something with too many teeth?"

...Spoke too soon. A sigh escaped her lips at that, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Her first class and she was already starting to feel like it was going to be pointless. It'd be easier if she just tried to teach herself or found someone to teach her privately. Was it cool? Why did it matter what might have been cool?

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[Lysander von Ascania]

Madrona A’Mia Warpriest Prime Nilira Vornix | Open​

Pelagon might have been a planet Lysander could have come to appreciate under different circumstances. He hadn’t set foot here since the massacre. Unlike Thrantin’s open air or Coruscant’s urban jungle, this Academy was a submerged structure. Being packed in with unpredictable darksiders was a whole vibe, as someone once put it. One he hadn't quite grown into..

Sorcery wasn't foreign to him, but much of it was beyond his understanding. A gap in his education that shouldn't be dismissed any longer. And it wasn't pride that drove curiosity. Truth was, the Covenant would benefit from more than just sabers and titles. A dual allegiance of sorts.. one to their order, another pointing towards Mercy .

When A’Mia arrived, he was set to work, arranging ingredients on each desk. Some of them he recognized from alchemical work, which was a result her lessons back at Kor’ethyr. Others were strangers. But he handled all of them with care.

When students began to fill the class, he chose a seat at a nearby desk; close enough to assist. His trusty datapad rested beside the vellum, and occasionally he would jot down a note or two. The wink caught Lysander off guard, but only in the timing. Chances were only he understood the real meaning behind it. Growth. For the Neti, emotion required an entire syllabus. From sassy hand gestures to spraying slugs, it’d been an interesting journey to say the least.

Dima was impossible to miss. To no surprise, this one could disrupt the equilibrium of the entire room just by being present. His look wasn’t unwelcome, just.. inevitable? From acquiring bruised ribs by her to a brief exchange on Jutrand, she had a way of materializing everywhere. A hint of amusement danced across Lysander's face before restoring a calmer veneer.

“If you follow the instructions exactly, nothing catastrophic shall happen. But if you don’t.. well, I suppose we’ll learn something either way.”

Maybe that was a teacher assistant way of asking someone chaotic in nature to behave.

He offered one final note. “This class isn’t a warm-up before battle.”

Nilira Vornix 's reaction was caught from the corner of his eye. Someone who came for structure and may have believed themselves trapped in a circus. At least they were taking it seriously. Given that this Academy was several hundred meters under the ocean, walking out of class wasn't exactly an option..