Spamming Iron Daggers

[Darth Metus]

​

The Black Forge, Castle Ne'tra​

​

Deep within the bowels of Castle Ne'tra, beyond winding corridors and twisting stairwells was a small, simple forge. It was modest in comparison to the one that the Mandalorian had seen during his time of training alongside Rave Merrill and Darth Kyros, but it was enough to accomplish that which Isley desired. By no means was he a master smith, nor an expert in metallurgy, but he knew enough through studying under Rave and exploring the holocrons within the Templar Archives to accomplish the task at hand. This day, he had summoned his younger sister, Devorah, to the depths of the Castle so that she might witness and take part in his attempt to construct a Sith Sword; and through this learn the basics of Alchemy for her own study.

As such, the Beskar-clad Mandalorian began the process of preparing the forge. The metals he had selected for this momentous occassion, bars of Desh-Terenthium, had been set up alongside the wall of the space. The forge itself was primed and ready to go, with its coals alive with crimson heat. Isley stood over the wide circle of stones and gripped the rope that was connected to the bellows, goading the coals even hotter whilst he awaited the arrival of his sibling. The forge was located towards the bottom of Castle Ne'tra for a key reason in particular, for the entire citadel was built atop the ruins of an ancient Sith Temple. The stench of the Dark Side was strongest in the lowest levels of the Castle, and therefore producing the desired effect in the blade would be much easier.

Isley would, of course, explain all of this upon Devorah's eventual arrival.

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

Delicate steps took her down through the lower levels of the castle. She could feels the darkness within the very stones reaching out to her. Calling her as if they already knew her name. And perhaps they did, she mused...what was she, after all, to the depth and breadth of the Darkness that ruled within?

She knew the moment she'd passed into the ruins of the ancient temple, past the point where they merged with her brother's castle. Her brother. She could feel him within, making the preparations for this, her first lesson in the dark Alchemical arts. With the gentlest touch and she brushed her mind adoringly against his and sighed audibly as energy slithered along the connection between them. Slender fingers smoothed out the fabric of her top, settling it neatly into place before they rose to ensure that the simple ribbon around her throat had not slipped out of place.

Devorah did not wish to explain how she'd come by the welt that persisted in healing too slowly.

A shudder passed through her as she entered the forge, eyes finding Isley in the midst of it immediately. She smiled softly, dipping her head almost deferentially as she approached him. "I hope I have not kept you waiting..." she murmured softly, knowing full well that he could hear her. He always did.

 

[Darth Metus]

'Twas not the telepathic caress of his sibling's mind that stirred the Mandalorian's attention, but the sheer acknowledgement of something contrary to the Darkness entering the lower levels. The stench of the Dark Side of the Force was cloying and thick; so much so that an untainted aura such as hers stuck out like a sore thumb. Upon her descending the steps, Isley took it upon himself to place three of the bars within the mouth of the force, allowing the coals to begin the process of heating them up. He then held the fourth, and final, bar of Desh-Terenthium in his hands and turned, facing her. From behind his visor, a small smile graced the Mandalorian's lips and he strode over to greet her appropriately. His offhand reached out and snaked about her waist, guiding her into a warm and loving embrace.

At the same time, he lowered his head, gently touching the brow of his beskar helm to hers; a motion known as a "Keldabe Kiss". To say the least, the relationship between Isley and Devorah was one founded upon filial intimacy and a sense of protectiveness. The Mandalorian lingered there for a moment and then released her, saying simply. "Of course not. You gave me ample time to prepare your first lesson." He then stepped back and motioned for her to follow him to the forge, then indicated the metal rods being heated up by the coals. "These are composed of Desh-Terenthium, an alloy that is renowned for being super light. Now, why do you think that I would utilize a very, very light metal in the construction of our swords, hmm?"

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

A tiny sigh escaped her lips, while her hands rose to rest briefly at his waist. She basked in his strength and the warmth of affection that slid so effortlessly between them. She shivered slightly as he withdrew, her dark gaze focusing on the forge as he spoke and her careful step taking her close.

Without touching the metal, her fingers ghosted above the surface of each rod, seeing them through the senses she'd only newly been awoken to. Another precious gift from her brother. Her brow knit together briefly as he left a question to dangle in the air between them.

"It would be no burden to bear like so many swords can be. A sword made of such a metal would be one that even I could wield. But will it have enough strength to bear the grief that combat will offer such a construct?" Devorah replied softly, glancing up to Isley's beskar helm, fingers still hovering above the heating metal bars, seemingly unbothered by the heat.

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

A satisfied expression wormed itself upon the Mandalorian's face, but of course was veiled from view by his helmet. She had answered correctly, but there were some additional details that would obviously elude her knowledge. These details were those associated with exposing the metal to the workings of Sith Alchemy, and she would learn them all soon enough. "You are absolutely correct." he began, giving her an affection tap upon the brow with his index finger. "The light weight of the alloy allows it to be wielded effectively by individuals with a variety of levels in strength. However, the downside of this is twofold. On its own, the metal is relatively brittle; and the light weight will affect cutting power and durability in the face of opposing forces."

He paused, lowering his fingertip from her brow and setting the spare rod up against the wall. Whilst there, he then took her hand in his and then placed a hammer in her grasp. "Sith Alchemy will serve to remedy both of these shortcomings. Blades constructed through this art are noticeably heavier than typical swords, and as such it was necessary to select an exceptionally light metal to counteract this. By my estimate, the final product would weigh about the same as any average sword, or lighter. It would also be granted near indestructibility, in addition to the ability to face lightsabers and deflect blaster bolts."

"Now then, next question, what all do you know of Alchemy thus far?"

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

A tender smile blossomed across her features at the tap of his finger to her brow, with her attention turning swiftly to the hammer that now lay within her grasp. It was warm as her fingers clasped around it, suffused as it was with the ambient warmth of the forge. But there was somewhat else within, sluggish and dormant, struggling to wake to her touch upon the tool. She blinked and only half heard him as he continued, distracted as she was.

She did remain silent however, and whatever it was she thought she sensed soon slipped out of the grasp of her mind. It didn't matter, however, as there was another question that begged an answer. Devorah paused a moment, to give it true thought before she answered.

"It is the art of infusing either objects or beings with sufficient dark energy to alter their very composition. Used primarily to enhance the strength of weapons and armor."

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Another correct answer.

The Mandalorian was beginning to see that his younger, half-sibling at least knew the basics of the art that he was going to impart to her. As such, he stood directly behind her, slightly resting his chin upon her shoulder before coiling his fingers about the wrist whose hand held the hammer. "Excellent. Correct." he began, his tone low; as being any louder would have been obnoxious that close to her ear. "Now then, I assume that you've felt the ebb and flow of the Dark Side upon descending these stairs. As you know, Castle Ne'tra was erected upon the ruins of a Sith Temple, ancient in years. The taint of the Dark Side is still very strong here, and as such we shall aim to coax this darkness into the blade we craft today."

"And so, we shall begin step by step. First, you will open yourself to the Dark Side...Close your eyes...Dwell upon the pain. Dwell upon the sorrow. Dwell upon all that is black and negative within your heart and soul. Grasp it and pull it to the forefront. Wield this negativity and utilize it to call the Darkness down upon you. Let it saturate every fiber of your being. Then, when you have accomplished this step, we shall begin guiding the dark energies into the metal whilst shaping it. Let me know when you have summoned the Darkness and you are ready to begin."

With that said, Isley began to follow his own direction and closed his eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he then began to dive into his memories, seeking the negativity deep within his essence.
@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

"It speaks to me..."

She replied in a whisper, before allowing her eyes to close to begin as he had bid her to do. Her mind focused on the knot of agony that was ever-present in her mind, festering deep within her. It assaulted her senses anew, forcing her to shudder even as Isley's presence prevented her from falling apart completely. She swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the hammer as she drew on the abyss of pain that her life had been for so long.

It came to her, swirling through her blood and drawing a gasp from her lips as heat tore through its wake. Like so much glittering black silk it cascaded over her and stole her breath away, leaving her breathless at the vast depth of it that awaited her. Her soul reveled in it and every fiber of her being absorbed the feeling of it into memory.

Blinking, her dark gaze glittered with the nameless stirring in its depths. "...ready." Devorah whispered softly, almost overwhelmed with the darkness that suffused her and waited to do her bidding.

 

[Darth Metus]

Although he had done such numerous times before, the sensation of feeling the Darkness crash down upon him caused his heart to skip a beat. The memory that Isley had selected to dwell upon was the very same that he generally utilized when delving into the Dark Side of the Force. His mind's eye conjured the scene of him, tied to a gurney whilst a sadistic Sith Apprentice subjected him to torments beyond words. The pain. The humiliation. The anger. It all came surging forth like a mighty wave and coaxed an avalanche of the Force to fall down upon him. Once the influx of the enigmatic presence had saturated each and every fiber of his being, the Mandalorian gently trailed his fingertips over the surface of his sibling's hand.

The slight display of affection, despite the presence of the Dark, told a simple story: he was there for her. Enough said. He knew only bits and pieces of the hell that was her life for recent history and could only imagine that which her mind was picturing right now. As such, he let her know that he was there and not going anywhere; especially when staring years of pain in the eye was concerned. However, his Devorah was strong and held it together quite perfectly. He lingered for a moment after she affirmed that she was ready before moving his offhand into the forge, grasping the unheated end of one of the metal rods. He lifted it up and carefully laid it upon the anvil that was before them, then guided his sibling's hand back and down in a solid strike.

Sparks flew as metal impacted metal, and following this first blow he whispered: "Now, link your mind to mine as you did upon descending the stairs. Allow the Darkness you've gathered to become our Darkness. Then, I shall guide your hand in the work, both physically and through the Force." He then awaited her completion of the task he had laid before her once more, whilst maintaining the connection to the Dark Side.

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

There were no words necessary, certainly none that could convey the gravity and pleasure of the moment in simple, proper terms. Sparks cascaded over her skin, skittering across her flesh like so many brightly burning gemstones. It was the darkness inherent in the forge itself that had woken to her touch, answering her entreaty and pouring itself across her wounded soul in response. The hammer was merely the focus, and warmed dangerously in her hand to recall her to the task.

With a delicate, feather-like touch, Devorah touched Isley's mind with her own, this time maintaining the connection. As he bid her to do, she opened herself to the bond completely, allowing the Darkness she held to flow through them both. It held the flavor of her pain and the taint of her agony, burgeoning with a rich, decadent energy. She rested her free hand atop his as he held the metal rod, allowing her to feel the next impact of darkness and hammer alike.

 

[Darth Metus]

Unbeknowest to Devorah, there were very few in the Galaxy who had ever linked consiousnesses with the Mandalorian. Not even his wife had done so, and she was the mother of his child. The intimacy of the moment spoke volumes of the bond they shared; of the trust and loyalty they held for one another. Once the mental bond was established, Isley was greeted by a black tide of darkness, rippling with such negativity that it surprised him. The pain that poured into his psyche was phenomenal and dwarfed even that which he had endured at the hands of his Sith tormentor. Though he could not see the images of the past, nor ever know the explicit story short of her speaking the tale to him...he could feel it. Her scars, whilst bolstering the tide of Darkness which began to flow forth onto the metal, tore at the heart of the Mandalorian; causing his very eyes to sting.

Yet, he pulled it together nay instantaneously and focused on the task at hand. Though his lips did not move, his voice was very clear; for he spoke directly into her mind. As if holding her hand and guiding her on an unseen journey, Isley then began to point out that which he was doing to the metal. "The first step in creating the sword is called 'transmutation'. Through this, the base metal, Desh-Terenthium, will be augmented and transformed into a new alloy, alchemical in nature. This alloy will have a high affinity for the energies of the Dark Side, for we are imbuing the blade with its very essence right now. Observe." As his voice sounded in her mind, his hand continued to guide hers in strong, powerful strikes against the metal. Each collision imbued the blade with the presence of the Dark Side, which then began to augment and alter the molecular structure of the Desh-Terenthium.

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

Dark eyes were half lidded, almost as if suffused with pleasure. But it was that partial gaze that allowed her to focus both her physical and Force-given senses on what was happening to the metal beneath their hands. Ripple after ripple of darkness sunk into the Desh-Terenthium, altering it on a molecular level that she could not see but could sense. No, she could almost taste the transmutation as it happened, a sweet, metallic tang dancing across her tongue. The stronger the taste, the closer the metal was to being ready for the next step. How she knew that exactly, she wouldn't be able to say, later on. Only that she did...on an inherently instinctual level.

Devorah took in a deep, ragged breath, suddenly remembering that she needed air to survive. Sparks flew through the air and cascaded across her form, without burning her. As if they knew, already, that she was their mistress and the darkness that was her essence gave her the right to command them. Her fingers tightened upon Isley's gauntleted hand, and her other gripped the hammer with a new fervor as he mentally guided her along a path that felt so right she knew she'd never be able to verbalize it.

Closing her eyes, she Looked with only the Darkness to grant her what it willed, and it rose to answer her with a ferocity she recognized as dwelling in a deep, dark place she'd not dared to look in a very long time. Their hands pulled back, the hammer rising to strike again, but she shook her head.

"No..." she purred along their bond and into his mind. "...its ready for the next step...can you not taste its altered energy?"

 

[Darth Metus]

Perhaps it was the fact that their minds were so closely bonded together in these moments...but the instincts of Alchemy were beginning to manifest themselves in Devorah. Although the Mandalorian was the instructor and the main guide of the construction of the sword, he also found himself playing the role of spectator; for his half-sibling began to exercise confidence whilst he guided her hand. He felt her fingers grip the hammer with a greater vigor and her strikes meet the Desh-Terenthium with greater force. It was almost as if she were acting as an extension of his own will; or perhaps their mental link had simply made their wills one and the same. Nevertheless, once the blade had reached the apex of its transmutation, it was Devorah who sounded her desire to halt the process.

"Agreed." Isley commented, guiding her wrist to the side. He then took a moment to step away from his sibling and strode over to the bookcase adjacent to their position. Upon its second shelf was a palm-sized satchel that he promptly plucked into his grasp before returning to her side. He opened the satchel and pinched the contents within, which looked like shimmering dust that he scattered about the surface of the blade. Through their mental link, he explained: "This is the dust of an energy crystal. Though grinded, the effect still persists and its presence upon the blade will not taint its characteristics at all. Incorporating this element into the blade deviates from the traditional steps of creating an alchemical sword, but it does nothing to harm or skew the process."

"Incorporating an energy crystal was a step utilized by the ancient Je'daii Order in creating their own blades. I felt as though doing the same would only add onto its presence in the Force; as is the end goal. Now then, we shall utilize these crystals as a catalyst to finalize the properties of the blade. Though scattered upon both sides, I am sure you will be able to adequately guide the Darkness to fill them all, hmm? Let's do so together." As he spoke directly into her mind, the Mandalorian took the hammer out of her grasp and set it upon the side of the Force before returning his chin to its position of rest upon her shoulder. His fingertips laced through her own and he held them over the blade, guiding his own Darkness through his hands and into the crystal dust.

"Our goal here is to reverse the magnetic polarity of the blade." Isley added.

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

She knew.

She knew well what needed to be done, for the moment he saw it in his mind's eye as a means of showing it to her, so too did she see it.

Devorah felt the hammer leave her fingers, and for a moment she felt bereft of the Forge's inherent darkness and power. But the next breath saw her realize that it was still there, only lingering within her flesh. It lay waiting, coiled as if ready to spring with only a touch of her mind. It was her own to command now, and that was a heady sensation that nearly made her weak in the knees. She bit her lower lip sharply, bringing clarity to her thoughts once more as Isley continued.

Fingers intertwined and his strength at her back, she did as he had begun, letting the abyss pour out of her fingers and across the surface of the blade, seeking out each crystal grain scattered there. Pure, unadulterated power soaked into each and every one, binding them together like a fine, microscopic mesh that lingered there until she 'pushed' at it with a greater measure of energy and permanently bound it to the blade like a glittering next cast upon the surface of dark waters.

Sighing softly, she gently nudged him along their bond, never removing her eyes from the elegant blade. "It tastes ready...is there aught left to do?"

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Together, the siblings completed the final step in the creation of a deadly weapon born of the Dark Side of the Force. Upon the instant that Devorah's mind spoke into his own, a twisted grin wound its way upon the Mandalorian's features. He released the steady stream of negativity that saw the blade's composition altered and then wrapped his arms around her waist. At first, Isley said nothing. He chose to relish in the moment; holding his beloved sibling whilst looking upon the work they had wrought together as one. The Sith Sword that lay before them was complete, albeit devoid of any aesthetic features. These could be implemented later and would be a task easily accomplished in comparison to the creation of the Sword.

Isley allowed his thoughts to wander as he contemplated any and all potential steps that needed to be taken in order to complete the construction of the sword...and only one came to mind. Reaching up, he first plucked his helmet off of his head and set it aside before taking the nameless blade into his hands. The Mandalorian then plunged it into the trough of water adjacent to their feet and stepped back as steam rippled into the air in response. He then returned his attention to Devorah and smiled, speaking directly into her thoughts once more. "The sword requires only a single step in order to be completed. A vital one, just as important as all that we have taken...A name. And I have chosen just the right one. There is power in a name; the power to inspire fear and reverence...And so, this sword shall be known as..."

The Mandalorian paused, taking a moment to trail his fingertip across his sibling's cheek; then verbally speaking the words.

"Devorah's Song." ​

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]

 

[Devorah Verd]

She stood there, surround by warmth and darkness as power danced through the air and carried her energy with it. Exhaustion clouded her senses, her control slipping away as she released the energy she'd so tightly clung to during the sword's creation. It seeped away slowly, rejoining the darkness within the Forge, though a sliver of it remained lodged in her soul. Like a fabled sword sung into a stone, the sliver floated there in the middle of her abyss, like a beacon.

Steam rose in a torrent as the sword was plunged into the water to cool, her fingers trailing through the steam and leaving whorls in their wake. Devorah dipped her head, gazing up at Isley through her lashes as she gave the faintest of sighs. There was something so delicate and tender with the care he took to speak into her mind, energy coursing softly along their bond.

Her breath caught in her throat as her brother trailed a fingertip along her cheek, warmth rising to color her cheeks as she leaned into it. Something lingered there at the edge of her thoughts, but she paid it no mind. Devorah's lips parted, forming a delicate 'o' of surprise, but no sound emerged as he declared audibly that the sword was to carry her own name. Something within her snapped the last strand of her resistance, pulling her forward while her slender fingers cupped his face. She brushed her lips against his, the connection between them still pulsing with energy that grew darker and richer with every passing moment that she lingered there.

Devorah tore herself away with a gasp as the realization of what she'd done slammed into her senses and sent her reeling. "Isley...I...I shouldn't...shouldn't have..." a hand flew to cover her mouth as she spun on her heel and fled the Forge, slamming the connection between them closed. Tears streamed down her cheeks as ran up the stairs, hating herself for wanting to return and wondering how far she would have to flee so he couldn't find her.

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

The reaction that the Mandalorian anticipated was one of surprise mainly. He thought she might giggle in a fit of bashfulness or grin with pride that he would carry a blade named for her into battle. However, even his wildest dreams did not come close to the reality of situation. Before he could so much as blink, Devorah's lips were upon his own...and before he could react she had torn herself from his embrace and was racing up the stairs. The mental link between them had been eliminated in an instant; but even then he could feel her emotions clouding the very air. Confusion. Remorse. Fear. All of these and more bled from the Mandalorian's sibling as she ascended the steps, hellbent on getting as far away from her slip up as possible.

For several seconds, Isley stood there, dumbfounded...and then snapped out of it. He rationalized the situation as best that he could...and blamed the Dark Side for it. The Forge was located so close to a cesspool of all things malicious in the Force, so much so that channeling copious amounts of it through their minds was bound to cause some wrongs. Yes, that was the best way to look at the situation; for anything else would be...wrong beyond words. As such, with that justification locked firmly in his mind, the Mandalorian began to bound after his sibling, taking the stairs two and three at a time. She was quicker than he, of course, for frantic running always outpaced pounds of beskar. However, he was swift enough to keep up with her voyage through the halls.

Up the stairs, through various corridors, and into the West Wing they sprinted until Isley came to a halt just before her bedroom door. She had slammed and locked it only seconds before he could get there...no matter. Raising a hand, he reached out with the Force and felt his way through the keyhole. After lifting and adjusting the mechanism into place, as if he had inserted the key, the door opened and the Mandalorian stepped inside. Silence ruled him for a moment as he closed the door behind him and exhaled softly. "Dev..." he began, his voice a calm whisper, "it's not your fault. The Forge is...brimming with Dark Side energies; and you're new to utilizing the Force. I should have know that pumping that much Darkness through our minds would have had some sort of negative effect, and it did. Don't beat yourself up, when it was the Forge to blame."

He took a cautious step forward, arms open. "Come here."

@[member="Devorah Sains'Cyr"]