She opened her eyes, staring up into two intensely glowing green ones, felt every bit of her being for the first time strangely cherished, something none other than perhaps Recinis had ever given her, and if the latter were the case it was long, long gone.

A sudden memory raised its face: Phalomir telling her who she was to him, who she always had been to him.

That means nothing, for it cannot; I have not lived it yet, but-- did he not say we had a son? Were those words true or misconstrued by the manipulations of darker beings?

It didn't matter. What mattered was this moment, this moment, one which stood as a springboard, a new pathway toward a future she never dreamed she could fully reach.

Perhaps we will have a son at that-- she thought as she drew him close, the fingers of one hand making an idle motion behind his head to suddenly transform her chambers into the grove of gnarl-trees on Dagobah. Recinis, Aelvedaar, Roan, Wicked; all were there, all turned their backs, displaying once again the weaponry they had held.

All faded away, mere will-o-the-wisps, dreams soon to be forgotten.

The mists grew dark then as the Dagoban sun set, and the Chosen Daughter of the Sith relished her new life with her own Chosen Lord.

Without her chambers, a passing servant paused, startled, to hear the racous cawing of a night-bird coming from the room. He shrugged, continued on his way, extinguishing the wall sconces as he travelled that the private section of the Temple might at last be put to bed for the night.

[ 01-10-2006 01:45 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

The grass in the distance moved quickly for an instant, and then parted as a very young boy stepped through the knoll. He smiled a boyish grin, his small spike horns seeming to sparkle in the silver light. The boy giggled and ran back into the woods.

Jharmeen shifted lightly under Phalomir’s arm and pressed closer to him. Her soft sighs lulled him past the brink of sleep and he joined her in loving slumber.

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

“Harming ladies not in plan, not for yous. Being harmed, that in plan. Roan not bright, but him crazy and him good at using peoples for himself. People thinking him dumb, but him dumb like black white. Icky demon daughter lady can not make heir – must not make heir. Roan use you to make sure she make heir – not knowing how, but knowing you part of it.”

The imp jumped to the floor again and looked from Terrin to Galen with deep eyes.

“Icky demon daughter lady must not make heir with idiot boy. But she must not die – having icky demon daughter lady in homeland with Roan not good. Give her other wants, other needs, take her aways from Roan. That buying time, time to does what needs to be does.”

The imp’s tail stopped moving.

“Destroying Roan.”

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

"Idiot boy?" he queried, arching an eyebrow. "Who the kriffing hell is idiot boy?" And as for destroying Roan...

...he's already dead, what else can be done to stop him?"

His look darkening ever-the-slightest at that, Terrin awaited a reply.

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

Both arched their eyes in utter surprise, and Matt spoke up.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, indicating Jasyn's shoulder.

Jasyn sat, shaking his head even as the Jedi came to tend to his shoulder.

"He did something to it," Jasyn replied, scowling. "It's better now that she did something to it," he continued, drawing another pair of surprised looks. "ShaRhylla is here, lurking. And she is with another, a male who is not Sith, but who speaks of some sort of issue concerning Roan, as though he has had dealings with him. ShaRhylla doesn't believe this guy, whomever he is...

...but who the kriffing hell would be here anyway? There's an Imperial blockade out there, and I doubt he got past it without some sort of Sith influence. I don't know who he is..."

Jasyn trailed, eyeing Shawn Petrolu, "But I've got a really bad feeling about him."

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

He smiled faintly as they exited her chambers, their hands now hanging low, fingertips gently touching in a very slight show of what some would call "affection".

They walked in silence, Rykounagin's eyes peacefully gazing over the workings of the temple that he saw.

"May I ask-" He asked, the rhetorical question answering itself. "-how long have you lived here?"

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

Strangely she found similar bonds between herself and Leerka. Though they were faint ones at that. Yet, hearing of how Leerka is kept away form others due to her duties or whatever they have her do, reminded Sarisa of how the Jedi do similar things. Little time for making friends when you are keeping to your studies of the Force, combat skills and etiquette.

"I understand what you are saying. I don't have many friends either. I would welcome a new friendship. One can never have too many friends. Never know how they might help you out in the future. Whether it be just their continuing moral support or helping out in some other way." She smiled again at Leerka and offered her hand to shake Leerka's hand (should that be their custom that is). Sarisa had a look of being unsure at her offering.

"May I ask what it is you do, and how exactly are you to be my companion?" She quarried.

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

“You dead once,” it said. “Did you not fear when Roan had you? Soul is immortal, dead man, power goes on and on. Only not all so luckies as you, most fades back into universe. But you, no you lucky, you picked out of pool by Roan. Roan powerful, he pick himself from pool… with help of Master. But how yous destroying him now? That part easy, you needs finger.”

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

“Hey,” he said. “How’s it goin’?”

Panthar smiled the flashiest smile he could muster and pointed to the rag on the counter.

“Do you mind if I use that to wipe my fingers? Got some meat juice on them and don’t want to get any on my, um, clothes. They look expensive, don’t want to take any chances, you know?”

Phalomir chuckled, hoping she would mind as he reached for the towel.

“Oh, hey, my name’s Panthar, by the way,” he said, extending his hand towards the maid. “Ooops,” he laughed, indicating the still messy fingers. “Sorry, let me wipe that off first.”

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

...and obtaining it, deciding what to do to keep ShaRhylla busy here, and destroying Roan will require that we all come up with a plan together with the others...

...who hopefully are all currently doing something we need to do ourselves."

Here he paused, glancing a moment to Galen then back to the demon before finishing with one final word. "Rest."

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

"A force user?" the one with the indigo eyes finally asked, tossing some chips into his fanged mouth with a crunch.

"I'm afraid you have me at odds, my good fellow!"

The other Sith seemed to choke at this, before finally releasing his suppressed laughter in yet another raucous roar.

"And, and--" he chortled, wiping a tear of merriment from his green eyes.

"This Shayla person... are we supposed to be impressed?"

His companion returned his bark of laughter with a rising one of his own.

Meanwhile, at the bar...

The barmaid looked down her nose at Panhar, which was not an easy feat for the fact that the Sith body he occupied towered above her. Sniffing, she snatched the rag back from him and after giving it a disdainful shake began to wipe down the counter.

"I don't care how much your robes cost, Sir; what I do care the cost of are the libations that we offer here.

“Whoa,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything by that! I didn’t buy these, they were just handed to me, and I don’t have any clue as to what they cost. I just meant I didn’t want to get anything on-- oh, never mind.”

He sat on a stool at the bar, propping his head in his hands, a dejected look on his face.

“I’m not even sure what you use as currency. Wow, that never came up before. When we needed something, Graysith just called on a servant and – poof – there it was. Hey, the Dark Lady doesn’t have a line of credit here, does she? I mean, all that Sith brandy she drinks, it has to come from somewhere, right?”

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

If there was one thing he didn't like...

He kept himself in check for the moment, however. "Shayla is the Dark Lady's chosen sister," he answered an edge to his words. 'And speaking of whom, I should be getting back to her. I don't want her waking alone."

And I really don't want to be here any longer, came the mental addendum even as he watched Panthar and the barmaid out of the corner of his eye, yet another addendum following. Does that guy hit on every female he sees?!?

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

The hearty laughter disappeared in a flash, and the atmosphere around the booth simply crystallized. The two Sith warriors kept their eyes pinned on Erik, but the looks they cast upon him were anything but pleasant.

The indigo-eyed one shot a quick glance toward his buddy, who immediately returned a brief nod. The former then slid from his seat, coming around to stand beside Erik, effectively blocking him in the booth.

Both warriors' eyes darkened further.

"You are married to a Sith?" the indigo eyed one growled, his hands on his hips as he stared down at the seated Erik.

A meaningful silence ensued...

Meanwhile, at the bar...

The barmaid shook her head with a sigh.

"Where have you been, sir? Out in the Hindlands of Korris'ian, fighting tuk'ata? Or perhaps readying yourself for the upcoming Blood Hunt?"

A blank stare was her only reply; she sighed again and went on.

"As is usual, a tab is run and paid every fourth-cycle by a direct withdrawal from the Warrior's purse, in your name, from which the remainder of your pay is then--

"Why am I telling you this? Are you totally ignorant? Sir, if you do not wish to order, then please vacate your seat to those who do."

The reaction to his mentioning the Dark Lady, the lack of knowledge regarding what a human even looked like...

...these guys were obviously back 4,000 years ago. Which would also explain why they had never heard of Graysith's chosen sister, or any of that.

So getting out of this sitaution wasn't gonna be easy...

"Look, guys, I think we're having a huge misunderstanding here. Perhaps if you spoke to one of your superiors, we could clear this all up...?"

I hope...

[ 01-16-2006 07:21 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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

“Well, actually, I am not with the Warriors. I travel with Lord Phalomir, the new Dark Lord of the Armorers. The Dark Lady Graysith and he have been, um, doing things… to… um, to rebuild the Armorer Clan. I am his personal assistant, though tonight he is off getting some sleep, and I don’t think he needs help with that. I’m pretty buzzed, though, and I’m not sure why. I couldn’t sleep if I tried, and I was hoping maybe a little brandy would help me out.”

Panthar smiled his best smile at the barmaid. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the movement of the Sith with Erik, and he turned his head to see what was happening.

Uh-oh, he thought. That drink might have to wait.

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

...and even in slumber, Shayla began to toss and turn in response to the disquiet now seeping into her mind's eye, and even more so into her very essence.

Something was happening. Someone was there.

But who?

Pulling away from the deepest wavelengths of sleep, Shayla's mind became just cognizant enough to began to try to analyze the strangeness. The specters remained distant, foggy, but began to take the shape of humanoid, horned beings whose skin seemed to be quite red...

Sith?

But it wasn't the blurry images of the Sith which caught her mind's eye. Her inner ear heard the sound of a not-quite-voice, one that somehow seemed familiar to her.]

A step closer to wakefulness, yet still in slumber, Shayla tried to reach out and understand,her innate Force abilities registering the pecularity and familiarity.

And in that moment, the flash of something evil, something dark and sinister, grabbed her very being. A large Sith-like creature, all-too-blurry to distinguish, laughed and chortled, its red eyes--its only recognizable feature--nearly boring through her.

Whether or not Shayla's scream was real or the stuff that dreams were made of, someone heard her. The brush of familiarity followed once more, as well as a more discernable voice.

She did know that voice.

The fog lifted slightly, and the image of the horned, red-eyed being faded. All that remained was the voice.

Shayla relaxed slightly, stretching out once more, this time inwardly calling a name, the name of someone who once said the Stargazer was the key.

But why and for what reason he thought or knew this, Shayla did not understand.

Thoran?

[ 01-16-2006 09:35 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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

"Why, I--" she began, her bi-colored eyes growing a bit vague as she looked backward in time.

To tell the truth, it really wasn't a lengthy period to peruse.

Jerking her focus back, she smiled sweetly.

"Why, most of my life, of course."

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

He sensed the hestiation, and wondered at the cause of it before smiling faintly. "Perhaps you are more tired that you let on? If you wish too return to your chambers I think that would be quite alright. Or we could persue a relaxed atmosphere too perhaps take a drink?"

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

Visions came to her, creeping forth from a dark hollowed place in her psyche, visions of blood, hot and intoxicating, blood pouring from a slitted throat into her eager mouth...

She blinked, her smile sweetening even as her eyes darkened just a fraction.

"A drink sounds appealing; let me take you to the place where warriors go to engage in their revelries after battle."

Revelries after battle-- what revelries? What battles? From what innate, inherited memory did that concept spring from? For indeed, never in her entire brief span of life had she ever known of any fighting occurring, let alone a major battle.

She blinked away the incongruity as with a smile still sweetly planted upon her pale face she took a firm grasp of Rykounagin's hand and led him swiftly through the corridors of the temple. On and on they travelled, passing silent doors which held even more silent secrets behind them, the occasional wall sconce sending strange and misshapen shadows to dancing upon the passageway. Gradually, they came out of the private areas and into the light, corridors now growing wider and ones whose walls bore more sconces, all lit.

In the distance was a great set of double doors, those leading to the Great Foyer. Just in front of them, set in the wall of the passageway, was another set: ornately carved and inlaid with precious woods and gems. Its dark, glistening wood bespoke of ages past, ages holding yet more secrets of their own.

ShaRhylla had no inherent respect for such things. To her the doors were simply doors, the jewels pretty things to beckon one to enter, where one might find food and companionship and drink.

"Here we are," she said unnecessarily as with a light touch she pushed the doors open and led Rykounagin directly to the doors in the back, those which led to the little lounge tucked cozily therein.

She did not even bother to take notice of anyone else in the Dining Hall, so intent was she upon showing Rykounagin this, the latest "treasure" she could offer.

[ 01-21-2006 05:25 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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

"Right," I said, yawning again.

"We've already determined that getting the Finger was a prime objective, but trying to tackle it now, without resting or eating or anything like that, is just plain foolish.

"Yeah, ShaRhylla's here, and she's all dark and nasty and we have to watch out for her--"

Memories made me choke momentarily, as visions of what evil she had stricken us with in that infuriating, evil yet light-hearted way she had came flooding into my mind. Pursing my lips to shut them up, I forced myself on.

"--but her mama, dear ol' Sissy-poops, is here too, and on our side."

Well, at least for now...

Turning to the silken bed which beckoned so sdeuctively, I called out over my shoulder.

"I'm hitting the sack; look, Fido, you can go curl up in front of the fireplace or something, or maybe make yourself useful and go out and see just where ShaRhylla is, and what she's up to.

"But if we don't get some rest and replenishment, we won't be able to stand up against a womprat, let alone Roan and his league of nasties--

"Or the Master," I ended uncomfortably, wondering if he was still beneath the chronotic shield the Sorcerer Lord had imprisoned him beneath.

Even though logic said yeah, yeah he was, one of my unexplainable hunches reared up, waving its little red warning flag for all it was worth.

[ 01-21-2006 05:42 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Galen ]

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

“Is all well, then,” it said. “You needs restings, I needs not. I do yours wishes, I finds the hell-bitch daughter.”

The imp jumped from the wall.

“If your living through night, I finds you when daylight hurts my eyes.”

The imp scurried off in a flash into the hallway, jumping immediately for the shadows of the ceiling. It paused and sniffed the air, turning its head to catch the flowing air currents. It moved like lightning down the hall, still clinging to the ceiling, pausing at every intersection to sniff the air. It paused at a large set of doors, slightly open, and breathed in deeply.

“She comes,” he hissed under his breath.

The imp dashed through the open doorway. Once inside, it scrambled up the taller wall and crouched in the corner shadows, hiding. Within seconds, his quarry passed through the very same doorway, towing the idiot boy with her. He waited and watched as the pair moved quickly through the dining hall and passed through another doorway on the far end.

The room was enormous, and the imp let its eyes wander to take it all in. There were many strange and interesting food items on a table on one side, making his nose twitch in disgust. On the nearer side was a unmoving mechanical thing that whirred quietly. The imp crept slowly across the ceiling, staying away from the light of the fireplace, and then darted its way towards the other door. His keen hearing could hear voices, and he perched quietly on the ceiling to wait.

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

...then turned to look at the aforementioned bed with its silken sheets.

Ahhh, now this was familar. How was it the saying went? Same song, second verse? Or was this the third or the fourth?

But dammit, this time the song was going to continue on an entirely different note.

Turning to Galen then, he nodded in agreement, smiling a bit at that. "Yeah," he admitted then, "Hitting the sack is the best idea I've heard in...

...oh, a couple of years."

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

He admired the new chamber for all of five seconds before commenting upon the chamber that they had passed through.

"Strange other guests you seem too have in your home." But without further adress, he went too the small buffet too pour two crystal glasses with drink, too return too her and hold out a glass for her too take.

"Too the union of the sith."

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

It was her, here, now.

Erik blinked, trying to cover his initial reaction. Well he recalled instances in the past when he'd been around her before...

... but who in the Fates was that with her???

Erik eyed the two Sith, who had also turned to look in the direction of the newcomers.

Now was his chance to find out just who they thought the Dark Lady was.

"You know her?" Erik queried, preparing himself for whatever reaction might becoming his way.

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