Public The Price of Your Allegiance

[Avarice]

Tags: Drane T'keen | OPEN
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Avarice had chosen a place near the foot of the steps outside a Sith academy on Jutrand. From there, his voice could carry through the open entrance. His long silver hair was tied back, his hands resting upon the stone balustrade as students began to emerge.

"If you are waiting for permission to survive your own Empire, consider this an invitation to stop waiting."

An unnamed acolyte slowed upon the steps, their attention turning toward the dark entity.

"Some of you have been told that suffering is the price of becoming powerful. How much have you paid already? And what have you received? If your master has marked you for disposal, I am offering you somewhere to go. If you have spent years carrying out another person's ambitions, I would like to hear what became of your own. Perhaps you still serve them willingly. Then you should have little difficulty telling me what that service is worth."

He straightened, lifting his hands from the stone,

"They teach you that power belongs to those strong enough to claim it, then demand that you kneel when another has already claimed enough. Look above you. Every throne is occupied. Every title worth possessing has someone wrapped around it. Some of those who command you have ruled longer than you have lived, and some intend to remain long after you are dead. Yet they tell you that this is an Order where strength determines who rises. Then I ask you…where are you expected to rise to?"

A faint curve touched his mouth as he surveyed those whos attention he had gathered.

"You are encouraged to become powerful, provided your power never becomes inconvenient to those seated above you. Your masters tell you to surpass them. Some have spent centuries ensuring you never will. Ask yourself why men who preach survival of the strongest have spent lifetimes ensuring there will never be a world without them. They call immortality victory. I would ask whose victory it is when generations of apprentices are born beneath the same shadow."

His red gaze traveled across those who had stopped to listen drawing more and more attention as he spoke.

"Some of you may survive long enough to be rewarded. Perhaps they will give you a title. Perhaps a world. Perhaps they will permit you a seat close enough to the throne that you can convince yourself you have finally arrived. Then one morning you may discover that the chains were never removed. They were gilded, and you were given permission to fasten them around someone else.

There are libraries you will never see, techniques you will never be shown, truths buried beneath tests of loyalty and obedience. They will tell you that you are not ready. Perhaps what they mean is that they are not ready for you to know. Whenever a master tells you that knowledge must remain forbidden, ask yourself who benefits from your ignorance. Knowledge does not become dangerous because you possess it. It becomes dangerous when one person decides everyone beneath them must remain ignorant of it."

Avarice stepped away from the balustrade as the wind about him picked up billowing past his darkened robes.

"They tell you to surpass your masters while withholding what might allow you to do so. They praise ambition until yours inconveniences them. They promise that power may earn you freedom, then reward those who survive by making them custodians of the same system that restrained them...

I am taking students. If you have the will to learn, I am willing to spend my time teaching you. Tell me what you wish to master, and I will tell you what I can offer. I will show you the path to true power, not the scraps your masters permit you to possess. I will expose the truths they keep buried from you, the knowledge withheld because ignorance makes such a convenient leash. A master who teaches you everything risks one day standing before an equal."

His expression remained composed, almost inviting.

"Place your allegiance with me, and I will not ask you to remain beneath me. Learn from me. Grow beyond what they have decided you are allowed to become. I will show you how to recognize every chain placed around you…and, more importantly, how to break it. I will not promise you a throne. I will offer you something considerably more dangerous: the means to decide for yourself whether you ever needed one. Perhaps, in time, you will discover you have no need of a master at all."

 

[Oz Neru]

Location: Jutrand
Tags: Avarice

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Pale blue fingers lowered onto Avarice’s shoulder. Oz smiled down at his little friend. Why was he here? The pantoran never really cared much for Jutrand and her people. How was he here? Oz never really cared to learn the mysteries of the black wall. Yet he stood there, with an eerily gentle touch.

“You have a lot on your mind, young one. Don’t be careless with your intentions.” The young near-human’s words felt a bit familiar. Swear allegiance to something without masters or obvious hierarchy. He couldn’t quite place a finger on it, but he knew it wasn’t without precedent. His attention shifted to acolytes that were present. His expression hinted at a feeling of pity towards the disciples of dark arts.

A shame, many of them likely destined to be warriors, or assassins. Not true lords of the Sith. Not Darths. Perhaps Avarice’s words had some merit. Not everyone can stand shoulder to shoulder with the greats. Not for those who call themselves Sith at least.
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“Now… you ain’t no bigger than a corn nubbin, what could you do with all this manpower?” Oz inquired. Wondering what bright ideas his little friend might’ve been brain storming.​