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"I have no problems telling you what you need to know, but if something isn't done about this gas in here, I'm going to die, and any information I have will be gone as well...and there is no need for the pain injections either. I'll tell you anything you need to know, with no need for torturing me. Now all I wish is for me to be repaired and continue on my way. All I ask is that I be repaired and I keep the ship I came in so I may continue on my way after I am done giving you whatever it is you want. I can offer you my services as an assassin if you wish, or I can possibly serve you in some other way. Can we reach an agreement before we go farther?"

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As a child he had lived in a small dura-steel cell upon his parents ship, as luxury was a sign of weakness and corruption. After that he'd merely lived in caves and upon beds of grass and granite alike. He'd lived in a cell again aboard the ships he'd used in his fathers service, but this was the first time, in his life, he would have a true chamber.

"Amazing..." He murmured, removing the layers of what remained of his armour and such and went to the bath, which was of the same unidentifyable stone the rest of the palace was constructed of.

He sighed and slid into the hot water, wether heated by a generator or flame from below he did not know, just that it felt wonderful upon his body, the steam rising up around him and obscuring his vision of the rest of the chamber.

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Rykounagin rose from the bath, the hot water becoming cool as it touched the air, causing his body to sparkle in the odd arteficial light.

He stepped from the bath, removing a small linen towel from a shelf and drying himself slowly and deliberately before folding it and setting it back to dry.

He left the small alcove of the bathchamber and explored the chambers, loving the soft and comfortable feel of the rugs and furs beneath his bare feet, yet another luxury he had never experienced.

He stood there for a moment, then decided to give himself one last moment and fell back upon the rugs, ignoring the minor pain from the stone under it, and rolled lightly upon the pelts, feeling the soft fur run over his bare body for a moment before rising to move to a dresser.

He removed a set of sith apprentice robes from it and donned them, as they were the only clothing within the wardrobe, and noted that they were slightly oversized, he would have to see a tailor.

Rykounagin sighed and re-knotted a portion of his "tail", lettting the remainder fall to about his waist before rising and walking to the doorway to find his father.

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Rykounagin walked through the halls comfortably, not bothering to wear any form of footwear as he felt the cool stone beneath his feet, ocassionally trodding upon the edge of the robe that dragged slightly, overlarge as it was for him.

He came yet again to his fathers sanctum, and as faced with the entryway made a small bow in thanks to this place, a place that he found could almost be considered holy to him as it was the place that he had truely found someone who loved him as family, who respected him as such.

With those thoughts upon his mind, he stepped forewards, and rapped three times upon the hard surface of the door, hearing the sound echo back towards him and into the chamber beyond.

[ 08-21-2005 03:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Rykounagin ]

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He glanced around, wondering where it was his father had gone, and for that matter, why he would have done so without informing him.

It gave him greater wonder to the simple question of where he would go. As far as Rykounagin knew, there was no reason for him to have suddenly left with all his worldly possessions.

Perhaps the better question was why.

Could it be that his father had discovered something of great import that requried his immediate attentions? But then why would he have taken everything, and have sent a messanger to lie for him and say he would speak after Rykounagin had rested?

Perhaps what had caught his attention had occured while Rykounagin lay relaxed in his chambers, or perhaps it had merely been a stalling tactic?

But yet again, why would he lie to him, his chosen son?

He stood for a time, puzzling over why, then turned and abandonned the chambers and went in search of the apprentice sorcerer who had greeted him initially, his intent to take information from him in whatever way require to find out where his father had gone.

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I strode forewards and spoke commandingly. "Apprentice Sorcerer, you informed me that my father would speak with me after I had rested and the likes. Yet I find when I return that he is not present within his chambers or the likes."

I fixed the with with a glare that hardly contained his inner fury. "An explanation, if you please."

But then I hesitated a moment. "It is unimportant. It is my fathers will that he does things as he must, and hence should not be questioned..."

I mused over my own thoughts, my eyes sliding into a calmer state. "We should do our best to maintain a state of integrity while we stay here in his absense, but we should not lie dormant and hence fall into a downwards slope of...."

Yet again I let my words trail off for a moment. "Have the highest and greatest, second of course to our dark lord, of the sorcerers sent to my chambers."

With that I returned to my chambers, and waited.

It was quite soon that I heard the telltale booms of knocking upon the door. "Enter." I spoke calmly as I lay upon the most comfortable bed;

I watched as the tall and scarlett-fleshed sith entered, his horns like a rams, small but thick with the telltale curve. "Thankyou for comming so quickly."

I paused, observing this sith, then spoke. "I am about to inform you of a great thing. In orbit above, there is a fleet of warships that has effectively blockaded our planet. However, they thus-far have not attempted to meddle in our afairs. Realize also of course that you are forbidden to inform any others of this fact, at penalty of.... well I think you understand."

I let this information sink in before speaking again.

"The blockade in orbit... I wish you too take a craft and extend an invitation to a dining for the commander, extend all courtesy... this evening, at the standard hour of seven."

I rose to almost dreamily walk away towards a mirror upon the wall. "Obviously... have the meal prepared and also-" I let out a small smirk; "-have some properly tailored robes sewn up for me, I'm afraid my proportions do not fit the sith standard."

With that, I left him to acomplish my commanded tasks as I moved back to my bed and merely sat, silent and thoughtful upon the barren floors.

[ 08-23-2005 02:15 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Rykounagin ]

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A blockade in orbit? Indeed...!

He straightened, his lips curling and nostrils flaring, clawed hands holding his robes about himself. Then he turned and departed, going down the corridors and back to the task he was in the middle of doing when called upon by the...

Human.

He thought of his Dark Lord, and the young adept, Ayelmaar. Indeed, it was to the latter that this particular Sith owed his alliegance to.

He shook his head and hurried on, utterly dismissing the supercilious young Rykounagin and the wild words he had spoken.

He walked from the chamber and began to explore the temple and the cooridors, speaking with all sith he met, and introducing himself. If they questioned his claims, he merely showed them his arm, then continued on. He was determined that they should know and accept him as any other sith who might be there.

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

He introduced himself to the sith present, letting them recognize his position before asking calmly where the Sith Sorcerer he had spoken with earlier, having informed him and given him the task.

It irked him again to know that these sith did not know who he spoke of, but decided against lashing out at them, though with his recent frustrations it was quite tempting. "Thankyou." he said camly before going off through the temple in search of that particular sith.

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He took a few moments to make sure all the information and protocols were in place, then he took a datapad with the information and a small report upon it too the lord generals office.

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However, calmness and reason took over, and he approached, smiling. "Hello yet again. I see you found something better to do rather then carry out my request. But I suppose I should have been a bit more polite." Rykounagin held out his right hand, showing the mark upon his arm as he did so. "Rykounagin, son of aelvedaar. And you yourself neglected to tell me of your identity. So what be your your name?"

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Ragorian had fallen silent, paying quiet attention as the others spoke and Graysith rested. He found Panthar's information most enlightening. It certainly revealed much, but raised many others for Ragorian to consider and muse over.
One particular tidbit of information, however, had caught Ragorian's attention and held it fast.

The Eye of R'lous. Panthar had said it had transferred he and Phalomir from Panthar's human body (The Sith was, apparently, human as well) and into their Sith ones.

It certainly seemed likely that it could do the very same for Ragorian. That it could provide the power he so desperately coveted to escape his prison.

Ragorian's mind had begun to spark with possibilities, which were somewhat quencehd when Panthar mentioned he had no idea where the Eye was.

Dissappointing, yes, but that little tidbit would certainly be stored away and remembered. Just in case.

As Graysith awoke and took up his blade again, Ragorian again had fallen silent, listening and considering.

Now, after Graysith had spoken to Shayla, had established their link, and had gone through a portal alone, and closed it on the rest of the group, leaving she and he in what he recognized as Aelvedaar's Temple of Sorcerers, he felt a need to speak. To remind her of his presence, if nothing else.

"I admire your trust in Lord Aelvedaar, milady. You two must share a special connection indeed to have forged such an infallible bond."

"However, there is something I must ask. If what you believe is true, and Lord Aelvedaar is being impersonated by some sort of other being, it would seem logical to me that this being would need to be extrmely powerful, enough so to impersonate Lord Aelvedaar's own might. Are we two to face that being alone, if it comes down to a confrontation?"

"Of course, I have no doubt in your great power with the All, milady. And my own abilities with magick are, if I may say so, considerable. And I am prepared to lend all my might to you and fight by your side if need be."

"But our...ah...backup is more than somewhat distant from us. Should we not keep them at a more accessible distance if we require rescue?"

Ragorian paused a moment to gather his thoughts, then continued.

"Nevertheless, I am curious as to our next course. Are we to proceed directly to Aelvedaar's chambers and request an audience? Or shall we attempt to discover the reason behind Aelvedaar's apparent personality change? Such as who..."

"Or, perhaps, what..."

"...Is impersonating him?"

Again Ragorian fell silent, then spoke up a third time as that strange feeling of compassion filled him.

"Regardless of our course of action, milady, know that I am more than ready to offer you my aid in whatever way I can. I promised to aid you in your cause, and I mean to live up to that promise."

At this rate, he commented amusedly to himself, My "insidiously nasty dark sorcerer" reputation shall be completely tarnished before we are through with this adventure.

Considering this possibility, Ragorian realized that it did not seem at all undesireable to him.

[ 09-04-2005 01:13 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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She blinked and stared quickly about herself as she tried to remember the time she had spent in this temple with Wicked, seeking to orient her position within it, trying to remember...

She found herself in a rather narrow and quite dismal hallway, low ceilinged and dank-walled. Upon the noisomely chipped and cracked stones of the walls there writhed and moaned a kind of hideous black moss, in some places to a depth of perhaps eight centimeters or so. It rippled and flowed upon its dark roots, seeming to stretch out tendrils here and there as though through senses unknown to her it knew she was present, and was trying to stop her.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste, and her hand flew to the hilt of the Blade at her hip.

"Ragorian, do you recognize this passage?" she asked, for no matter how hard she tried she just couln't bring it to mind. True, before the Sith had returned, during her short tenure here with Darth Wicked, it seemed every wall and door bore this strange moss; that had disappeared when the Sith had returned to their worlds.

But not so here.

Now she coughed, for the moss seemed to be releasing a sort of pollen or spore. Before she could respond to the possible threat, indeed before she even knew it could perhaps even be a threat, the passage had filled with a thick layer of what looked like dust.

It filled her nose, her mouth, making her eyes water, making her cough.

"Ragorian!" she called out again, the inner cry followed by a sneeze as she tried to rid her respiratory passages of the insidious and microscopic invaders.

[ 09-04-2005 01:29 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Black. Not golden.

Good.

He drew himself up, then lowered his gaze in a gesture just shy of true respect.

"Pardon me, my young--"

Human.

"--Lord," he said quietly, keeping his gaze averted from Rykounagin's.

"Matters were pressing, and I was not fully aware of who you are."

Chastising himself for the lie he then straightened, and stared Rykounagin straight in the eye.

"I hoped you would deliver an invitation to a dinner this evening with the lord of the blockade. Now, I am quite sure this will sound.... below you. However, I ask that you pause to consider." He glanced about casually.

"I would normally prefer to delegate this task to a normal servant, however, the information reguarding a certain number of alien ships in orbit causes me to give pause to that idea. I wanted to give this information to someone who I knew could keep this silent, and could keep this in mind. I do trust you will keep this silent, just as my father wishes."

He smiled. "All I wish you too do is extend the invitation. I shall have everything else prepared. OF course, for your trouble I'd kindly invite you to dine as well."

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

"The.. blockade. In orbit."

The words were stated succinctly, each enunciated clearly and concisely, as though the sorcerer was spitting out a mouthful of watermelon seeds, one at a time.

Clearly he didn't believe one word that Rykounagin was speaking.

"Ahh-- what blockade? My-- lord, there is no blockade in orbit around Khar Delba. Indeed, there are none the galaxy has to offer with the might to withstand us or our rule; seeing as you are next in line to the Lordship--"

Again he paused to cast a quick glance down his nose at the tattoo the young man wore.

He was about to communicate this to Graysith, but stopped when he suddenly realized that the lady was preoccupied by more pressing matters.

The entire passage they were in had suddenly filled with a thick layer of particles that seemed to originate fro mthe moss covering the room. These particles were quickly and efficiently attacking Graysith's respiratory passages, clogging them with startling speed.

It became immediately clear to ragorian that if he did not do something soon, Graysith would suffocate.

And he had no desire to allow that to happen.

Swiftly calling upon his magickal abilities, Ragorian first created an intangible "aura" around Graysith, a sort of filter, with openings large enough to allow oxygen molecules and other essential particles through, but too small for these respiratory invaders.

When the filter was complete, Ragorian swiftly expanded its shape, transforming it from a nearly form-fitting field to a globe that expanded around Graysith nearly five feet in every direction. As an afterthought, he gave the bubble a faint blue tinge, so Graysith would know how much of the air around her was clean.

This protective bubble completed, Ragorian quickly focused his attention on Graysith, or, more specifically, on the particles aleady inside her. With swift, pinpointed strikes of magick, he struck at the largest groups of them, eliminating the biggest groupings. What particles were left inside of Graysith he scattered, so that they no longer formed groups large enough to block any of her respiratory passages, and her body could clean them out as normal.

The danger seemingly averted, Ragorian relaxed his grip on his magick, but did not let it go completely in case it was still needed.

Reaching out to Graysith, he spoke.

"Are you all right, Graysith?" he asked, his voice betraying both his surprise and his concern.

Ragorian's own connction with Graysith answered should have allowed him to moniter her breathing, check for the answer to that question without asking it. But his concern for her had caused him to blurt it out.

He spoke again, calming his voice.

"Milady, I would suggest finding a way out of this room. I can keep up this protection, but it would not seem advisable to stay in this deadly "dust" any longer than necessary."

Ragorian made a quick check of the protective sphere he had put in place, making sure that the filter opening s were indeed the right size. His mind also began considering the emotions he had been feeling as he had constructed it.

There had been surprise at the sudden threat of the dust, concern for Graysith's wellbeing, and fear. Fear of her dying.

Like he had with the boy Rykounagin, Ragorian was forming an attatchment of concern with Lady Graysith, his latest weilder. Concern for her wishes and wellbeing, her hopes and dreams. Gone, it seemed, were the days when he would just leap into a perosn's mind, take them over, and use them how he saw fit to achieve his own ends.

It was, Ragorian decided, a change for the better.

[ 09-04-2005 01:59 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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It would be easy to tell him that they were "outmatched", but somehow it seemed that it would be... awkward. Knowledge was power after all, and this knowledge, perhaps a bit too much of. It would be easy to just leave him in the dark, but that could raise discent and could possibly undermine other things. For that matter, those in orbit might tell this sith things that he needed not too know.

"Perhaps it is better that you see it with your own eyes. Suffice to say that there is a faction that has, crept up on us, and now has made an attempt to "ensnare us". It is a foolish attempt, but convenient, as it keeps any others from attempting to bother us, you see? Recently there have been offworld masses of beings who do not respect us as they should, who are even now, trying to carve their own empires."

He paused. "The faction above us at this moment, calls themselves "The Imperials", and are predominantly a military organisation. They, as I have told you, wish to ensnare us. However, if possible, it would be favorable to bring them back under our sway, rather then be forced to destroy them, and waste time and resources you see?"

He smiled. "Now, it is not that I do not trust you, so much as I wish to assure that you see and know what I do. So I shall see you off on your way to orbit."

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A corridor now bathed with a soft aura of blue light. A light which melded with the equally soft violet glow of her Glyph, making the air about her turn into a dusky shade of cornflower.

"Th-thank you, my friend," she wheezed, letting out a final sneeze as she climbed somewhat shakily to her feet. A stab of worry shot through her to think how close she had come to suffocation.

Indeed, that eerie moss had infiltrated her respiratory tract before she could use the All in defense... before she even thought to use it.

How could that be? The Sith of 4,000 years in the past knew not of how to use the All. How could this have happened to her?

She forced a rising shudder down and gripped the Blade even more tightly, stared about herself before finally answering him.

"I do not recognize this corridor, although I know we are somewhere inside the Temple of the Sorcerers. Somewhere deep within the bowels of this place lies Lord Aelvedaar's Inner Sanctum; I cannot place my bearings now, however, for comparison.

"We shall simply have to walk."

With that she moved on down the otherwise featureless corridor, taking great care to avoid brushing against the noxious moss which yet seemed to stretch tendrils out as though trying to grasp her. At length she came to a tiny corridor, which branched off to the left, winding away into the gloom.

Shrugging to herself she turned that way and continued on. Time passed with her footsteps, during which the passage grew even more narrow and -- blessedly enough -- dry. At times it curved to one side or another, at others it ended in steps going up or down. On and on she went, following that passage, while deep within her bones a strange sense of familiarity began to grow.

The Beast within seemed to whine in expectation.

At length the corridor came to a halt. It ended at a large, ornately carved and bejeweled door. Names and ranks in High Sith were emblazoned upon it; down at the bottom, in simple defiance against wanton waste was the single name, "Wicked."

A thrill raced through her as memories crashed down upon her head, the hand she reached out with shook as it came in contact with the smooth, oily wood.

The door creaked open with surprising ease, considering its age.

It was just as she remembered: the great bed, the furs, the silks and satins, the heavy draperies, on the nightstand his jeweled wristlets.

It was as if the clock had turned back, and she was again at his door beside Nikk...

She gasped, yanked herself out of the room, whirled and placed her back against the door which grinned at her back.

"Ragorian," she gasped at length, struggling to keep her mind clear.

"Do you know of this chamber? Can you guide me now to the Inner Sanctum of this Temple? For it is there that I shall find Lord Aelvedaar; I cannot recall the way..."

[ 09-04-2005 02:25 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Straightening, he entered the ready room and approached the gleaming greel-wood desk which commanded center stage, even though it was positioned against the far bulkhead. It's shining immensity was only enhanced by the sight of the starfield behind it, which announced its presence through the extravagantly large ports hunkering there on the bulkhead. The light from the distant stars reflected from the highly polished wood, limning a single figure who commanded as much presence as did the entire image of desk-and-viewports-and-universe.

In many ways, more so.

The courier stiffened, saluted, and stuck out his hand. A missive fluttered there like a banner calling to war.

"Sir, the Interrogator sends information," he said sharply, snapping off each word with the Empire's usual military precision.

"And more-- long range scanners show activity from this system's sister world. It would appear that a ship is departing; if it follows its current trajectory, it will come into our space in approximately 38 hours."

It seemed impossible to do so, but he managed to stiffen to an even rockier attention, one hand holding the paper out to Tarnus, the other holding a salute at the bill of his cap.

Before him, an enigmatic T-lens seemed to eye him balefully, before a gloved hand reached out and retrieved the missive. The other gloved hand returned the salute, almost desultorily, the attention of the Mandalorian armor-clad general now focused on the information he had just received.

The lens found its way to him again.

"Ensign," the gravelly voice began, and the courier's back nearly cracked with his efforts to keep it ramrod straight and stiff.

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