Darth Vornskr the Second
Joycelyn's finger tapped the glass idly as her mind travelled back to that day on Thule, and the memory was sharp as glass.
She had assaulted the Silver Jedi Order on Kashyyyk, and stormed the stairs of Silver Rest. She was so closed to the home of the Jedi that she could almost taste it, but she was thwarted only meters from their doors. The young soldier had realised that she needed more than raw strength and skill at arms to accomplish her goals. If she wanted to be the instrument of Vahl, and to leave a permanent mark on galactic history, then she would need to levy every advantage she had in that direction.
If she truly wanted to end the Jedi-
Then she needed to seize any opportunity to increase her power, be it in numbers or in wisdom in the Force. She had taken on the mantle her father had discarded: Darth Vornskr. Joycelyn could remember well how he was when he was Vornskr, when he was whole. She had been a young girl, tested in the Force by the masters of the One Sith and the Ember of Vahl. They had all looked at her with such expectations, and at the time she squandered it. It took defeat and desperation to show her the power of her blood and name. It took strife to make her worthy of any title at all.
Now she had carried his name into a new age and made it her own.
However, in the recent weeks, a complication had risen: Her father's second half - The original Darth Vornskr. He had original claim to the name, of course, but there could not be two. The first and second Vornskr could not live at the same time. She would not let that be a weakness in her claim to power.
So, she had sent him a request for a meeting, father to daughter.
Joycelyn put the glass of ruby liquid aside and leaned her elbows on her knees. Her yellow eyes went across the room, and settled deeply in Zaudraka, where it lay balanced on its stand of bones. The blade rested, sated by the blood of the Jedi and knowing that its wielder shared its convictions, yet responded watchfully to her attention.
She waited.
Darth Carnifex
She had assaulted the Silver Jedi Order on Kashyyyk, and stormed the stairs of Silver Rest. She was so closed to the home of the Jedi that she could almost taste it, but she was thwarted only meters from their doors. The young soldier had realised that she needed more than raw strength and skill at arms to accomplish her goals. If she wanted to be the instrument of Vahl, and to leave a permanent mark on galactic history, then she would need to levy every advantage she had in that direction.
If she truly wanted to end the Jedi-
Then she needed to seize any opportunity to increase her power, be it in numbers or in wisdom in the Force. She had taken on the mantle her father had discarded: Darth Vornskr. Joycelyn could remember well how he was when he was Vornskr, when he was whole. She had been a young girl, tested in the Force by the masters of the One Sith and the Ember of Vahl. They had all looked at her with such expectations, and at the time she squandered it. It took defeat and desperation to show her the power of her blood and name. It took strife to make her worthy of any title at all.
Now she had carried his name into a new age and made it her own.
However, in the recent weeks, a complication had risen: Her father's second half - The original Darth Vornskr. He had original claim to the name, of course, but there could not be two. The first and second Vornskr could not live at the same time. She would not let that be a weakness in her claim to power.
So, she had sent him a request for a meeting, father to daughter.
Joycelyn put the glass of ruby liquid aside and leaned her elbows on her knees. Her yellow eyes went across the room, and settled deeply in Zaudraka, where it lay balanced on its stand of bones. The blade rested, sated by the blood of the Jedi and knowing that its wielder shared its convictions, yet responded watchfully to her attention.
She waited.
