Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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You call that a knife? (Damien Daemon)

In the search for a custom made weapon to suit his and the First Order's needs, his path had taken him through into the territory of a foreign power and once again into the company of the Sith. This Ascendant Power he knew so little about apparently differed from the One Sith Empire of whom had been responsible for years of mental degradation and physical torture, yet the contact who had pushed him this way was one with validated credentials and a reputation for professionalism in the business and pleasure of death.

The Furious Class Corvette touched down with the dry-dock landing bay, the boarding ramp lowering from the back of the craft and Brennan moving down into the open, cloaked in the black robe that likely fit the territory given its leading government and the original in their power over the worlds around them, Brennan himself had not come here to interferre with the livelihood of the Sith but rather to meet with this proposed blacksmith and alchemist, to see for himself the well spoken of efforts his credits were to result in.

He was a killer for a cause, and that cause was the will of the Supreme Leader. Many of the other Knights of Ren, the Disciples and all had focused themselves into a number of various directions, political, engineering, educational; none of which seemed to interest Brennan where he found that none of that mattered at the end of ones life. Killing was his job and one day he considered assassination might be his art; the First Order had a number of enemies, not all best to be confronted in the fields of war. Often times the best way to kill powerful player in the game of thrones was to do so without a trail leading back to you, through stealth and the element of surprise, with a sharp blade driven down in the perfect angle, a single strike to end all days.

He had thought a great deal about all this and having sent word ahead to [member="Damien Daemon"] with his request, the two had organized a place of meeting, to be the blacksmith and artisans choice so that he might feel at home on known ground while Brennan was willing to risk his neck for the perfect blade. One that would be identical and act as his signature in the jobs to come.


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Currently Damien sat on a chair in his Workshop, where in the man had sent a return message to his most recent commision. The message said, "By no means have I ever truly hidden myself, or where I hail from. Please feel free to meet me at mt shop on Tera Lush." And it was true. Even when he was Forced into being a Hermit, it was not his own choice that his enemy had been lied to about his permanent death. It had been a cautiouw act, staying in reclusive placement, but he had never hidden who he was beneath the new face, nor where he was.

Wasnt hiself she never looked properly, was it?

"Sorano, please, step outside. I sense the arrival of my next buyer." Damien stated, calmly taking a deep drink from his glass. Within its clear glass swished a husky smelling amberous liquid. Whiskey. He was having an off day obviously.

[member="Brennan Cabrol"]
He had not been to Tera Lush, never had the need until now though [member="Damien Daemon"] had been inviting enough to call Brennan in to his working province, the young Disciple of Ren soon realized why when passing by the Vampir kind. There were many kinds of peoples though while some were nothing more than commoners, others held a certain affinity within the force that made their presence far more notable. In reaching the storefront of the workshop, he paused to turn and gaze over his shoulder, searching the street for any sign that he might have been tailed, soon moving into the establishment itself and finding two figures, one a female who was quickly taking her leave and the other of whom he assumed was the craftsman himself.

Pulling back his hood, he let it drape down across the back of his neck that this man of the patron arts might look upon his visitor lacking any form of disrespect. Though surrounded in the dark side of the force and fueled more often than not by his passions and his impatience, as a member of the First Order integrity in the treatment of others not of their enemy was something still of the utmost priority and added with this, the fact that Damien had been nothing but inviting, Brennan even went the distance to dip his head in greeting, something hugely uncommon for his typical behavior.

Turning his attention to the many items and finished products about the working space, he took a moment to study the craftsmanship of their make whilst too introducing himself, "I appreciate the invitation, your work is quite exquisite I must say..." He turned to glance back to the maker of such killing devices, no doubt responsible for hundreds of deaths at the blade and steel of these creations of his; "They are most admirable" he concluded before reaching down to his right leg of which he took not simply the Dirk but so too it's sheath as not to look too imposing. Stepping closer to that of Damien, he placed the weapon to the bench before him and looked upon the weapon whose origin came from the Bastion of Ren back on Virgillia. "I require a weapon certain to kill, regardless of the initial blow...-Something of finesse for the more subtle needs of my work and something that will leave a signature, an impression to others who might recognize my calling".

Reaching out, his hand hovered above the sheathed blade, willing the weapon to spin slowly through the application of telekinesis, soon driving it to slide gradually across the counter and stop before the gaze of Damien daemon; Brennan's eyes once more turning to focus on the man himself, "I require steel worthy of a Sith" He added so to clarify his own talents. He didn't hold himself to the ideals of the Sith nor did he agree with them at all, having been so violently impacted by their kind, yet for the sake of the First Order and the way that this blade could potentially serve the Supreme Leader, he kept his personal differences far out of the business arrangement.


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Damien sipped more from his drink as his workee left the room, then replaced by a youth whom seemed to show much respect. Either he was raised proper, which was not unheard of, or this man was attempting to soothe the Ancient Sith. If it was the latter it would soon enough be obvious who he faced; Damien had become Emperor against a fellow Master in two blows... No other ever had before.

He had held the bound spirit of Lord Ergast, and even the overpowered Zaiden James-Greyson. He was built for power.

Not to make it believed he was afraid. No. That was reserved for the one person he had recently met, Ashin Karrde. She was a machine, much as he, but she focused on tanking through damage, while he dished out mental anguish.

Nodding at the words of the youth, a small flare of his power summoned the blade to his palm. Sliding it from its sheath, he began to examine the shape, sharpness, and the rest as he spoke, "Where did you procure the blade?" Dragging his thumb the length of the blade he watched as a quell of blood showed, before the wound sealed itself with a burst of the darkside. This mostly was a show of his abilities, as he was one of less than a half dozen that were able to heal with the darkside without using spellworks or like.

"It needs to leave a signature?" Damien arched a brow, "As in a calling card? Such as?" Another flare of power emanated from the Force Walker as his eyes glowed a luminescent cyan; he was tapping into the endless energies of the dozens of Spirits bound to his body. In seconds a massive blade appeared next to him on the table, having started as a microscopic speck, before growing into the broadsword he dubbed Tantibus.

Drawing it from the sheath, only an inch, instantly released its essence. The Force Fear emanating from the blade had been enough to drive an entire city from their homes in utter terror, it had bested the soul centering of Master Jedi. It was his calling card. Fear.

"Like this?"

[member="Brennan Cabrol"]
Brennan had no idea who this man was other than the fact that he made weapons and possibly other items such as armor sets or some such, he didn't hold a great deal of interest in the world either and even less in the Sith philosopher or anything that they had to contribute to the galaxy, they who had tortured him for years in imprisonment following the complete annihilation of the Order that he had belonged to since before becoming a Disciple within the Bastion of Ren, it was only natural that he trusted their kind none and liked them even less. Still, this [member="Damien Daemon"] was a craftsman of the arts and Brennan knew nothing of him, he judged him not by assumptions but by experience that he might gain to form an educated opinion and until that time, yes he held a manner of respect in his dealings with the man for he was making a request and nothing came of looking a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, payment or otherwise.

"It was a gift from someone who no longer had use for it..." He spoke as if he had killed the last owner of the blade, yet in truth his explanation was a partial lie. [member="Castor Ren"] had summoned the Disciples to meet under the superior ranking members of the Knights of Ren, there they had been offered weapons no longer required by other members and thus his story fit the purpose more or less, it was really only the tone that he held that left any semblance of falsehood; "Its origin is unknown to me" he added very 'matter of fact'.

Out of nowhere, the Sith conjured up an entirely different weapon, a much large blade more akin to the length of a lightsaber though of wider and far more brutal birth, the aura that surrounded it gave off a strong threatening presence that immediately put the Disciple of Ren on edge, his senses sharpening in the case that this weapon might be used against him, ready to draw his remaining weapon should he be given the need. He hadn't, Damien seemed more interested in his opinion and after a moment of glaring back at him rather instinctively, he soon realized that it was the weapon itself that was putting him on the back foot, rather than its creator.

"...Something more subtle would benefit myself, I believe. I want people to remember I was there, not to sense that I was in approach. This weapon of yours, I know not how you conjured it so but it gives off a powerful presence in the darkside and I intend on driving my blade through the flesh of those who would pick up rather swiftly on such a threat...".


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Damien arched a brow, "Peculiar. I have never met one so... Slightly put off by Tantibus. It is my most perfect creation, only growing in power the more blood it finds. You should consider yourself stronger than most." Damien stared silently for a long moment, then shrugged, "One day, should you find the time, look into Dimension Shifting. It is how i managed that feat."

Rising to his feet, Damien left Tantibus and moved around the table to be nearer to the other. Holding the blade presented to him, he once more examined it, "Lets no more be cryptic. What is it you want? I have made weapons able to be sentient, armors that made beings move almost a hundred miles per hour, i have turned beings from one species into another all together. Whatever you wish, i can do it."

[member="Brennan Cabrol"]
To Brennan it wasn't a matter of strength in the force so much as it was of position in the galaxy, of which he held none. Even to the First Order Brennan was collateral until a time that he might prove himself and with [member="Damien Daemon"] brandishing such a weapon, Brennan did not fear to lose for he held nothing to be taken aside from his life and that meant very little to anyone as opposed to all that he might gain ahead of him. "I want something powerful in the Force, something venomous in it's connection to living tissue...-I want the smallest strike to fatally wound and inevitably kill. I do not mean to make a show of those I intend to harm but silence and secrecy are most important and I need a weapon capable of achieving such an art against those skilled in the force...-I want the power to kill a Jedi, to slip in and out unnoticed and make certain their death. I want it to be remembered, the source of this venom to be original, something extremely rare if that can be done and I'm willing to pay what's required to get this done". Brennan was a killer, well capable though still ill-equipped and certainly not of the mind of a craftsman such as Damien, he wasn't educated in such greater lengths of the force. "Clearly you hold a wealth of knowledge that I do not, I know nothing of Dimension Shifting nor do I expect to gain the skills you do so I cannot rightly voice a weapon fit to your skill in creating...-Only that I wish for this blade to be unique to me and to benefit the practices of an Assassin...".


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"So... Poison?" Damien arched a brow. The lad seemed to have an idea of what he wanted, but no applicable notes. Strong in the Force, but only in so that it directly effected Force users? Or was it a poison that effected Force users most swiftly, while being made potent in the Force itself? Did he want the thing to sing? Damien still wasnt sure what was wanted.

"I can do this. I can even meet the unique aspect as well. I just need clarification on what form of poison you seek. Should it cause severe sickness? Asphyxiation? Blindness before brain hemorrhages? "

[member="Brennan Cabrol"]
"I don't care how it kills them so long as it does the job" He responded rather flatly, though he didn't mean to sound offensive, [member="Damien Daemon"] was the expert here and he was right in presuming that Brennan knew not exactly what design he was asking that the blade be bathed in. "Something excruciating, enough to intimidate those directly connected to the target...-Enough to send a message but otherwise I care not s'long as the simplest of cuts can end the persons life, yes poison..." He concluded, turning away again to glance to the other weapons as if to search for some sort of idea, incentive of their make.

"In the force, it only needs to compliment my prowess. Something to empower me whilst I move to kill others, anything that can render my presence null and void to those I seek to kill so to aid in my infiltration and assassination of them. Many Jedi are capable of shrinking down their aura within the force so that they are disguised as simple common folk, perhaps this would do me a likely justice given my chosen profession...-Poisonous to a fatal degree, Strong in the Dark-side so that it amplifies my skills and being able to shield me from being sensed by other Force Users...-Can that be done?" He turned back to that of Damien, curious to see whether the craftsman could achieve what he was asking. He didn't wish to be able to form weapons out of thin air, such magics were for the other and his secrets were to advanced for Brennan to care to learn yet the art of killing, that was something he wished to perfect and this sounded to progress him beyond the first step, to give the First Order a weapon worthy of one of their Disciples.


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Damien snapped, a grin forming on his face, "Now, now we are getting somewhere." Placing the blade on the table, he crossed his arms over his torso, "So the question is, what would you mind losing? To give it such, it needs to lose others. I could sacrifice the indestructible nature, mind you it would be incredibly durable, and the ability to absorb and store lightning."

He tapped a thumb for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, even the darkside empowering can easily be achieved. Most true alchemy emits an aura already, so it would be more simply tuning it toward your person. I warn you however, such can cause a person to make bad decisions. Feel overly proud, or aggressive, you might make a bad choice and perish."

[member="Brennan Cabrol"]
(Since it is actually a basic tool, i will just jump to the sub for it. Consider this done, unless you want to do more.)
"I do not plan on using the weapon for long term engagement" Brennan reluctantly agreed, the prospect of the weapon being indestructible hadn't occurred to him though this was the word coming from a person far more experienced in these things than him, losing a feature he knew not possible didn't really seem to be much of a loss overall when considering the possible advantages of such a weapon imbued in the dark-side of the force. Again the attention that the craftsman Damien Daemon commented towards Brennan came as little surprise as he was well known by now by that of his mentor for making decisions based purely on his emotions, driven well by his passions it didn't strike him as a weakness to be fueled by that which he hated so much, nodding in reply, a gesture of confidence towards the new direction that this weapon would be honed within.

"Do whatever you deem necessary so long as my enemy die from it's touch...".

[member="Damien Daemon"]
(I'm happy with what we've got dude, go for gold :) )

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