“I needed to give the Eye sentience. It needed a soul, a mind to keep watch. And a spirit with which to bond.”

“Thoran?” asked Phalomir.

“No, my son. You.”

“Me? What do you mean, father? Thoran went insane inside the Eye keeping me safe!”

“Yes, he did. But it was not necessary. You are one with the Eye, your power is within it, as its power is within you.”

The weight of these words hit Phalomir. His best friend had gone insane for no reason? He himself was the power behind the Eye? What did this mean? More questions, again!

“What must I do now, father?”

“Find the other users of the All Force. Bring them together and tell them, the knowledge will come to you when you need it. One Eye to embrace the magick, my son, is found deep within this planet’s main city. He rules the sorcerers. One Eye with the Key to All rests upon the Graysith – do not look perplexed, you know her already, follow your heart. One spirit to feed them is trapped within the Eye, imprisoned when you defeated the dark lord. Unity shall follow.”

Phalomir waited, but no more words came. “And what of the son to rule them all?”

“I authored only what I have spoken, my son.”

Phalomir stared at his father.

“I do not understand why I am the one who must perform this. You are but an image sent to me from the Eye, you are not my father. How do I know you do not deceive me? How do I know you are not the demon who once ruled the Warriors? How do I know I have not gone mad myself and dream with Thoran? What is the son of an ancient sorcerer doing in these times? Why must I seek people who mean nothing to me? Why should I have my heart and pride toyed with by a human female? I should answer to no-one! I am the son of the Dark Lord! I am powerful! I am SITH!”

The field faded before him, and Phalomir suddenly felt the cold floor beneath his back. Dust fell into his eyes as his eyelids snapped open. His muscles ached, his pulse raced. He tried to clear his head from the myriad of images and sounds, but it was the gasp and sudden elated scream from the human male kneeling next to him that brought him to reality.

[ 07-31-2003 03:10 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

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He shall not change that which I have vowed will surely be.

[ 07-31-2003 05:30 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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...only when she got there it was to find no more statues...

...but instead two stirring Sith forms and one very wide-eyed Panthar. Shayla's greeny-blues widened; she knew this would be coming, but she hadn't expected it quite so soon...

With some effort, she focused her thoughts enough to stretch out with the Force, analyzing the well-being of the three males. The two Sith seemed to be fine...

...but Shayla wasn't certain about Panthar. He seemed very much shocked.

She hurried to him, ready to use her healing abilities if they were needed. "Are you okay?" she queried as she laid a hand on his arm, trying to bring him to some semblance of reality...

...and all the while still keeping on eye trained on the yet stirring Sith...

--------------------

He gathered himself and stood, stretching his arms and legs. He shook his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face. Laughing, he ran his hand through the hair and pushed it back over his horns.

Wait….

Horns….

Long hair….

Red hands….

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

--------------------

“Much surprise comes when one is feeding from the top, only to find the sow is upside-down,” Thoran whispered in his small human voice.

Thoran felt alone, lost without the company of his liege or Panthar in the human shell. But he was comforted when a familiar voice circled through his thoughts.

Thoran, your destiny lies elsewhere. Seek the key, you know where

“Of course,” he whispered, “and the Stargazer shall be the salvation.”

Thoran looked to Shayla, who was right beside him.

"Oh, hello Stargazer. Our friends have parted from my mind."

He leaned close to her ear.

"Tell me later of the Graysith, but not so they will hear. The large one is not yet ready for this knowledge, and the shorter one is insane. He thinks he is me."

[ 07-31-2003 11:51 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

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She had thought the All was simply that: all forces, all encompassing, omnipotent, to be used with care and forethought. But apparently it was not indefensible; yet another device existed, two of them, which turned the abilities of her Claw from that of offense to simple defense in their presence.

The Eyes of R'lous... channeled....

Now she paused in mid-step. She blinked, tilting her head a bit to one side as she considered further.

Only the All can stop the All. The Eyes channeled it... apparently sapping that which they needed from the user for the moment, only to...

...return that energy to it's point of origin?

Her head jerked up and her eyes flashed as small clues clicked neatly together.

That blast of All power: a strong one, yet not large. Returning to her... when had she last used this?

Shayla....

Her lips thinned into a hard white line as the certainty of Shayla having her memories restored slammed into her. Possibly the memories of her companions as well, although she doubted this to some extent as the impacting charge of All-strength had not been a large one.

She thought of her goal. What she had planned to attain it, the stepping-stones she had carefully laid down. Many were now ripped from the early foundation; she frowned again and once more started moving down the corridor.

The warriors now followed her. The rebellious sect, however, would not. This had to be discovered, weeded out and crushed. But who were they? Where did they hide? And of greater importance, who were the mysterious dark warriors with whom they had allied themselves during the End Times? Did they still exist in isolated cells somehow kept alive throughout the galaxy and across the yawning gulf of four thousand years? Or were they in turn slain as the dark jedi swarmed over the Sith worlds?

She stopped dead in her tracks. Two tiny clues wrapped around her mind to snap neatly together.

Dark warriors... dark jedi....

Could it be?

Romanus....

Her eyes now flashed darkly, the Glyph raising its unvoiced symphony on her forehead, splashing the stones about her with its eerie violet light.

Another task. He shall indeed prove his worthiness, shall prove where his loyalties lie. For the warrior sect and whatever remnants of allegiance they yet had simply had to die.

Unless....

She smiled to herself as a fresh idea burst upon her. Nodding in satisfaction, she continued moving down the hallway, her footsteps, now sure and strong, now leading her completely out of the Temple and into the waxing light of early morning. Through the quiet streets of Phrinnchatka she glided like a wraith, her destination the Great Library of the Sith.

Which she came upon in but a short time, her eyes flashing even more darkly and her lips pursing in anger to see it closed for repairs.

[ 08-01-2003 12:41 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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And that probably was the truth of the matter.

But Shayla didn't have words at the moment to give him to reassure him, for she was puzzled herself.

He thinks he is me? Me who? What is going on here?! And why was Panthar asking to know about Graysith? He wasn't acting like himself at all, rather he was acting more like...

Frowning at this thought, she pinned Panthar with her greeny-blues, her eyes demanding an answer to the question which she was about to ask.

"What do you mean, he thinks he is you?" she queried first. Then, leaning in and speaking very softly so that her next words would be heard by him only, "And what exactly is it you wish to know regarding Graysith, and why?"

With that she backed away a bit and quietly waited for his response, the look in her greeny-blue eyes entirely entirely unreadable.

--------------------

“I mean that he thinks that he is me. Thoran is insane, you know. He woke up and shouted that he was in the wrong body. It is sad, really. I feel so elated to be free of them both, yet it pains me to know of his madness.”

The larger Sith was still stirring, trying to rub something out of his eyes. The smaller was prancing about, alternating between holding his head in his hands and mumbling something about cruel fate.

Finally the larger Sith moved to a kneeling position and stretched his powerful muscles. The smaller looked up at him.

“This is all your fault!” he shouted. He ran to the larger Sith and began kicking at him. The larger Sith caught a leg in the air and brought the smaller Sith down to the floor with a crash.

“Thoran, be calm!” he shouted. “You are freed! Rejoice!”

“Thoran? Thoran, my pasty gonads, you big red freak! I’m Panthar! Panthar! Your stupid Eye messed up, you brainless womprat!”

Panthar’s eyes narrowed at Shayla. “See what I mean? I think we need to restrain him while he calms. He might hurt himself… or one of us.”

--------------------

Then she looked back to Panthar, biting her lip in thought. "You know it doesn't matter how much we restrain him," she said suddenly then, "If his insanity cannot be cured...

...then he could be a danger to any one of us at any time."

She paused again, her look thoughtful as she considered something. "I have some healing powers, but healing the body is not like healing the mind. I could at least put him into a healing trance for a bit, if only to calm him and keep him from hurting anyone here til we can think of something to better help him."

With that said, Shayla stood as did Panthar. She walked towards the larger Sith and her husband, who had managed to at least restrain the confused Thoran...

...and knelt right beside the frantic smaller Sith. He looked at her, his eyes full of confusion and anger...

...and perhaps something else as well. For a moment she gazed into those eyes, then closed her own, reaching out a hand to lay it on the forehead of Thoran.

"Be calm," she spoke softly to him, reaching with her healing abilities for those nueral pathways which would bring the Sith to a resting state...

...and remaining there til she was certain she had succeeded.

[ 08-02-2003 07:45 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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------------

Phalomir struggled with Thoran, but his strength was much greater than the smaller Sith’s body. Soon Shayla’s healing took effect, and Thoran fell into a quiet sleep.

“Erik,” said Phalamir. “Help me move him to a bed.”

Phalomir stood and looked as his hands. “And allow me to properly introduce myself,” he said, smiling. “I am Phalomir, son of Trelanicus.” He took Erik’s hand in his own, completely enclosing the human’s hand in his own. “I am in your debt and shall be at your service.”

------

Panthar sat on a bed and closed his eyes. He thought to himself.

“The first steps are complete, my lord.”

Excellent. It is time now for you to contact the sorcerer. He no doubt is watching at this moment, it should not be difficult.

Panthar opened his eyes and stood. Looking up, he raised his hands above his head.

“Dark Lord of the Sorcerers! Hear me! I have much I would discuss with you, I seek an audience.” A slight smile crossed his lips. “But only with you, not your chosen daughter.”

[ 08-03-2003 01:05 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

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Now my eyes flare with anger and I shoot back the emphatic answer, directly into the impertinent one's mind:

"Request denied."

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--------------------

"That of which you speak does not concern me, for it is merely ancient dust. Your words neither interest nor beguile me; the Triad is of the Houses Roan, Aelvedaar and Rean."

I silence my thoughts, holding back the brunt of my anger. That is struggling for release, a release which I know would gain me naught, for the Eye is within this one. I have seen it.

But I have emplaced its twin....

--------------------

“It appears that Dark Lords in this age are taught to jump to conclusions and promote self-worship. I shall then leave you to your own interests, my lord, and take my business to someone who cares for the Sith as a race. The House of Roan has fallen, and I care not for Rean. Good evening, my lord, perhaps I shall call upon you another time when you are less self-absorbed.”

Panthar stood, and an eerie red glow emanated from his mid-section. An immediate cloud of red mist completely encapsulated him, obscuring him from view.

--------------------

...only to finally notice that Panthar had strangely disappeared. Scanning the room a bit, she slitted her eyes slightly, all the while replaying the events of the past few minutes.

Something was awfully strange about all this. Why would a man stuck in an inhospitable region of an unfamiliar planet wander off on his own...?

Slitting her eyes further, she stood still for one more moment...

...then turned and began to walk at a fast clip, until at length she caught up with Erik and Phalomir, who had just laid Thoran down in a bed. She turned directly to Phalomir, the look in her greeny-blue eyes intense.

"Panthar...he has gone off on his own," she started out. "I have a very funny feeling about all this...

...for even disregarding what he might be doing off on his own, he could be in danger if not for anything but the inhospitable weather in this region."

She paused, pursing her lips a bit as she considered what they could do. Then the answer fell right into her lap.

You're not just a Healer, Shayla Stargazer. You are a Force-user, not truly a Jedi...

...but a well-trained Force-user. Take what you know...

"I'm going to try to find him with my Force-senses," she then said, breaking the momentary silence. Granted, she hadn't ever had any direct connection with Panthar through the Force, but she most definitely knew Thoran and her husband. Phalomir's proximity to her would rule him out immediately...

..so unless there was another in this hideout, the only other sentient life-form would have to be Panthar. So she closed her eyes, easily finding Erik, and then Phalomir. She didn't even bother to reach out towards Thoran...

...for he was right beside her. Stretching her sphere of influence then, she searched for that one other lifeform that had to be close by, for there was no way Panthar had gone far so quickly...

...and in but a few moments, she had found it. She opened her eyes then, locking onto that Force sense, about to open her mouth and tell the others that she had found Panthar and could probably track his location...

...when the strange familiarity of his Force-sense finally slammed home. At this she gasped, her eyes growing wide as she turned to stare at the yet-sleeping Sith. Then she locked gazes with Panthar, her next words utterly serious. "The Sith you see sleeping before you is not mad nor is he Thoran but merely his shell. Of this I am cerain...

...for I have found his Force-essence elsewhere." She paused then, that a foreboding sense darkening her thoughts. "Come, we must find him, for I fear something dreadful is at hand...

...for alredy there is deception in the works."

Saying nothing more than this, Shayla turned on her heel and began working her way down the corridors of this hidden place and towards the Force-essence which belonged to Thoran, knowing that others were no doubt following closely behind her...

[ 08-03-2003 11:07 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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Hopefully, those Imperials will at least run an analysis on my host's ship bfore opening fire. he thought to himself. That will give them enough cause to consider firing long enough for me to get down to the planet. Then this fool will have served his purpose. His body is already beginning to fail.

Ragorian's luck held out, and the Imperials ceased fire long enough for him to quickly dart into the atmosephere of K'eel Doba. Within moments, he had landed on the surface of the planet.

Perfect. Now, to begin my seach. After that journey, I am very hungry indeed.

Ragorian set off, using his own senses to "smell" the powerful spirits. He soon picked up a trail, and began to follow it.

Excellent. The hunt has begun.

[ 08-03-2003 11:13 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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Something rippled in his mind even as footsteps sounded behind him. He straightened and turned, the fisted hand now going to the hilt of his sword, the other slapping automatically to his chest when he saw that it was The Dark Lady's Chief Assistant, Salandaar, who had come to a halt before him. The aquamarine-eyed Sith bowed his head, slapping his own fist to his chest. Then he broke the respectful silence between them.

"There is an anomaly," he said in his deep yet soft voice, his look expressing more than the mere words ever could. The chieftain nodded in turn, straightened further, and opened his mind to that of his superior. Immediate information flooded him: the knowledge of the Imperial ship, of the being heading on foot across the K'eel Doban countryside toward the capital city, of the aura of powerful magick which encapsulated him.

The chieftain bowed.

"It shall be done," he said simply. Then he turned and left, giving out a call to his men as he did so....

Later....

The chieftain stared down into the tall grass, the early morning breeze freshening against his face. There on the the ground lay a body clad in strange garb, the shell of it strangely desiccated, a sword laying quiet at its outsplayed hand. The chieftain's aide took a step forward, reaching out to pluck up the weapon to hand to his superior, but was detained.

"No," the Sith chief said. "There is strong magick in this; can you not feel it? Do not touch it with your skin; here--"

He turned away and picked up some branches laying nearby. Returning, he ensnared the sword's basket hilt with the branches and lifted it from the ground, taking great care not to touch it in any manner. He held it in front of himself, cocking his head from side to side as he scrutinized it, his blue eyes widening to see the dark splendor of it. It was so beautiful, so strong, a weapon worthy of a warrior... no, not a warrior but a Lord... all he had to do was to take it up....

He jerked suddenly, his eyes narrowing as reflexes nearly won over by flinging the sword away. Instead, he shuddered, and with great effort got himself under control.

"Dark magicks indeed," he muttered. "This should be taken to the Lady."

"Aye," his aide assented, turning and directing the others to burn the body of the human and make arrangements for the scrapping of the ship. The remainder of the party headed back to the Temple of the Warriors with their booty, and soon reached the Receiving Hall. The Dark Lady was not at the moment present, but Salandaar assured them she would soon be with them.

--------------------

Such a dark irony in her needing the library now....

She knew the information was there, and that she could seek it. But without the Revealer the seeking of the particular information she wanted would take an enormous amount of time, even with the Librarian performing his perfunctory weeding of all incoming data.

There was simply too much; the Revealer was needed, and the trembling Librarian assured her that it would not be ready for use for several weeks at the very earliest.

Thus her mood was something less than desired, and became increasingly moodier the closer she came to the Temple. All she could think of was her plan, the role her Sire would have to play in that plan, and the possible foiling of it all by the sudden arrival of the ghost-ridden Panthar...

...who had destroyed a Dark Lord of the Warriors as if he were a kitten...

...who held within him the raving soul of the mad Thoran, yet the calming strength of the one called Phalomir...

...who warned of dark warriors who very well might be the dark jedi who had brought the Sith to their collective knees and beyond.

She found herself moving amidst the tall cool shadows of the pillared Grand Foyer without really knowing how her feet had carried her there. Her stomach gave a sudden growl, and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. She couldn't remember when she had eaten last, and when she had gained any true rest, let alone sleep.

She had just made up her mind to get some food and then retire to her chambers when Salandaar hurried up to her.

"Milady," he said, going quickly to one knee and bowing his head over the fist he laid across his chest. She murmured a reply to which he quickly responded by rising. Before she could say anything further, he briefed her on the latest happenings within the Temple.

She could scarcely keep from exploding.

And now this!!!

Saying nothing further she quickened her pace, striding past Salandaar who leapt out of her path only to follow half a stride behind her. In moments she gained the Receiving Hall and swept inside. She paused just inside the door, watching as the ring of warriors jerked their collective heads toward her, and then widened that circle that she could see what lay amidst them.

It was a sword.

She frowned and moved forward, and soon passed through the ring. Coming to a halt in front of the sword, she stood in silence, staring at it. Something seemed to ripple up at her from it, something dark and wonderful and beguiling and seductive, something which seemed to beckon and offer and wait....

She jerked, her eyes darkening, the Glyph flashing an incandescent warning on her brow. Her eyes cut up to meet those of the chieftain who had found the sword; he fell to one knee, and went into a quick explanation.

Graysith approached the sword and nudged it slightly with one toe....

[ 08-04-2003 12:05 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Ragorian reached the Lady's mind, and slowly, ever so slowly, began the process which allowed him to control a host. He bagan to let his spirit flow through her mind, chuckling, and waiting for control to be his.

But, strangely enough, it did not come.

Ragorian focused his attention on the part of his spirit he had sent to take over the Dark Lady. To his surprise, it was not taking over, as it should be. It was struggling. Struggling with the mind of one he had designated for control.

How can this happen? he roared to himself. This has never ocurred before. Never before has one been able to put up a resistence to me. How can she?

Ragorain, belaid with anger and surprise, pulled himself together and prepared to do something he had never done before: fight for control of a host. Gathering his entire spirit and power to him, he launched headfirst into the corridors of the Dark Lady's mind, preparing to combat her resistence with all he had.

[ 08-04-2003 02:10 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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"NO!!"

Grimacing with effort, the Glyph raging upon her brow, she jerked away, preventing him from touching her.

"Touch me not! And touch not the sword...."

For a quick moment she pinned a pained gaze upon Salandaar, held it there a few agonizing seconds. Then she could bear the struggle no longer; closing her eyes she quieted within, and let loose the Beast who slavered and yowled deep inside her. That sentient part of her spirit, that awareness which made her who and what she was, fortified with the knowledge and strengths she had gained from all her teachings from one Dark Lord after another, now bowed in homage to that which was more powerful than all the Sith magick ever developed or put to use throughout that culture's aeon-long history:

The All.

The Beast reared up within her, sending a flat pewter gaze to the one who dared usurp his Lady's mind, who dared to attack, who had not the courage or integrity to speak but had to act like the mindless creature it more than likely truly was at heart... and mindless creatures were things the Beast was well acquainted with. It howled, scrabbling, reaching, clawing...

...and found its cunning adversary lurking along neural pathways, seeking cellular sanctuary, striving to gain control.

It didn't stand a chance. Nothing could resist the All, for it was all known forces in the universe. Beyond it's simple immensity there existed...

Nothing.

With a mighty incorporeal raking swing, the Beast reached into Graysith's mind and nervous system, scrabbling up the interloper as easily as a farmer gathers in the wheat from the field. It's curving claws closed over the essence of this thing, and it cocked its great unseen head to one side, drooling as it licked it's lips in anticipation of the kill. It opened it's jaws, and raised it's paw to its gaping maw...

...and was halted.

"No."

With a yowl of disappointment the Beast restrained itself, glaring at the dark essence trapped within its clutch. Then it raised it's head, let forth a final caterwaul, and thrust every lick of the darkness out of the Chosen Daughter of the Sith, the action guided and fueled by the All. Pathways opened between molecular bonds, encompassing bits and pieces of time and space...

...and the dark entity suddenly found itself back in the sword where it had come from.

Graysith staggered, her motion unseen for the brilliancy of the Glyph that was still exploding in fiery radiance on her forehead. Bit by bit, however, it's ultra-white light began to die down, until at long last it had reached its normal resting state. Within her breast, the Beast gave a final disappointed howl; then it too settled down to wait until it was next needed.

Graysith blinked, blinked again... and at last allowed Salandaar to come take her by the arm and guide her to the dias upon which the Receiving Throne was placed. She sank down upon the lowest step, waved away his attempt at ministrations, then waved the others away from the sword.

She stared at it for a long moment before finally finding her voice.

"If the entity who lurks within this piece cannot find the honor to speak, this sword shall be destroyed. You do hear me, do you not?"

She turned to the warriors, motioning them to back away as she then slowly raised her Claw-bearing hand and pointed it at the quiescent weapon. It lay there innocently enough, not appearing to do anything; she took this moment to run a mental self-diagnostic, finally nodding to find she had been thoroughly cleansed of its foul touch.

Pushing all emotion aside and reaching for the coolness of logic alone, she touched upon that great power given to her by her Sire, and in moments had heated the stones beneath the sword to where they rapidly expanded, raising the sword upward. Suddenly taking that energy away, the stones subsided, leaving the sword momentarily suspended in mid-air.

It was all she needed; quickly she reduced the energies of the air beneath the sword, slowing the molecules, making the air denser and more supportive. Likewise, she made a dense cushion behind the weapon, giving that extra energy to the air otherwise surrounding the sword.

The net effect was that the sword began to move, something in the same manner as the wings of flying things move through the skies of a planet. She followed the sword out of the Receiving Hall, through the Foyer, and outside into the courtyard. There she paused, letting the sword hover, clearly letting the entity inside it realize that unless it chose to act in a civil manner with her she would continue that upward guidance until it entirely left K'eel Doba and was sent out into space beyond....

[ 08-04-2003 04:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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“What are you saying, Shayla?” he asked.

Shayla led the group through a great number of twists and turns, letting the force guide her. Thoran was apparently on the move. The group turned a corner just in time to see a door slam shut at the end of the hallway. It was heavy door, larger than the others that stood along the hall. Phalomir felt a heavy pain in his heart, as a sudden deep sorrow welled up into a ball of despair inside of him, held in check for the moment only by the massive confusion that still confounded his thoughts.

He glanced at Shayla, whose expression echoed his own. He then sprang forward into a full run, his powerful legs carrying him to the end of the hallway and up to the door before the others could react. He tried the door control, but nothing happened. It was warm to the touch, and Phalomir’s first thought was that the other side had been subjected to an energy blast.

But why? If this was indeed Thoran behind the door, still in Panthar’s body, why was he acting so strangely? Yes, Thoran was insane from his years of imprisonment, but to this point he had done nothing but try to assist Phalomir. This was very different.

He took a deep breath to shout at Thoran. His effort was cut short by the muffled sound of an engine, and the rumble of a large door opening. Phalomir stepped back and kicked at the door. It was very solid, and made no movement. Shayla and Erik made their way to Phalomir.

“It is Thoran! I do not know what he intends, but he appears to have found a hangar. I think the door controls are blasted from the other side.”

Phalomir continued to kick at the door.

“I have a bad feeling about this!” he said. The sound of the engine grew suddenly louder, and then quickly faded.

[ 08-04-2003 11:31 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

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But first, the business at hand. If the Dark Lord would not hear him, he had no choice but to seek out old friends. He hoped the Eye would remain dormant for the time being, he could ill afford its interference now.

“We are free of the hangar, my lord,” he said.

The voice in his head was low and dark.

Very good. We shall soon pay a visit to an old friend. He shall be very… surprised. For now, locate a reasonable place to rest.

“Yes, my liege.”

Thoran flew low to the surface for many leagues until the snow melted away into grasslands, which in turn gave way to forests. He soon located a small clearing and skillfully piloted the shuttle into a landing.

--------------------

He sat up in his bed and looked around. This didn’t seem like his bedroom, but he was still disoriented. He was sure the memory of his location would come to him shortly. He stood and stretched. Hmmm…. This was a strange feeling, had he been working out more than he thought? What strength! He glanced at his hands, noticing the muscles ripple as he flexed his red fingers… oh no. Oh no! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! It wasn’t a dream….

Panthar let a long, mournful wail escape him as he sat back down on the bed.

--------------------

Defeated.

He had been beaten, no, trounced, at the one skill that had kept him alive and sane all these years. Instead of taking over the Lady's mind with the swift and merciless strength he usually did, he had been a victim of her swift and merciless strength that tossed him out of her mind as easily as a kraayt dragon spitting out a bone.

How? he thought. How could she have done this? I have never met a being who could put up even the feeblest resistence to me, and this one, this Dark Lady, she has made me look like a fool at my own game!

Eventually, Ragorian stopped his wondering and focused his attention on the Lady. She was emanding that he speak, or he would be flung into space. That was a difficult predicament for him. The only way for him to communicate with a living being was to either speak through a host's mouth, or if a being held him in its hand, and allowed him to talk to its mind. Conveying this message to the Lady would be difficult indeed. Ragorian could create images in his head and send them to others who knew of Sith magick, but it took a great deal of concentration. He began to piece together images as quickly as he could. First, one of himself, a sword. Then, a human with a mouth closed, hand over it's mouth. Next, a human holding him in it's hand, then the human talking to another human. Finally an image of her, the Lady, holding him in her hand, seperate from the others. He strung them together, and sent them off.

There. She should be able to piece that together. Of course, she may have completely closed her mind, which means the images shall not get there at all, and I shall be condemned to drift endlessly. Nothing more I can do, however.

Ragorian settled himself to await the Lady's reaction.

[ 08-06-2003 01:03 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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