He grunted again, blowing shaggy hair back from his robin's egg blue eyes.

Not bad, he thought to himself as he rose to his feet.

A little more practice and I'll be sure to be recruited into the Temple Guards!

He let a small smile flick about his lips, for actually he stood a very good chance at being accepted into that elite group of warriors. For his uncle was one of the Captains in the Guard; deep in his soul of souls he knew that his striving now for as much perfection as he could achieve was not merely as requisite to being admitted, but to make his uncle proud of him when he was.

He was preparing another routine when there came an unexpected blast of air from above. Squinting, he raised a hand to his eyes and watched as the strange little ship materialized from the shadows, sweeping up over the nearby hills and beelined directly over his house. It flew so low the windows rattled, sending his Mother out to the little yard in alarm.

But before they could so much as begin to speculate upon the ship's sudden and strange arrival, it was gone.

The youth looked at his mother, then shrugged. She nodded in turn and returned to her chores, leaving him to his eventide practicing.

[ 05-25-2007 04:07 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Freedon Naad ]

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

“My name is Freedon Naad, Master Sorcerer of the Sith” he said, by way of introduction, “I have come to present myself to your Lord and offer him my services.”

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

“Listen you whelps. You’re young, so I am doing my best to control my temper with you. But I would strongly advise you to not mistake my leniency for your lack of respect for weakness. Were I so inclined I could boil the blood in your veins with a flick of my wrist, cause your hearts to leap out of your chest with a gesture and flay the flesh of your body with a thought. What’s more I could do all these things before a single one of you idiots could even raise your pointy little sticks.” He paused here for emphasis, and because he realized that he may have been a little overzealous in his choice of words. He could in fact, probably accomplish all the things he threatened if he were given a few minutes of peace and quiet to work out the logistics and a few more to work the necessary magicks, but he strongly suspected that, slow of mind as he suspected these gentlemen were, they would probably not oblige him by allowing him the necessary time to prepare and providing him with the reagents he needed for spell casting. Even so, now that he had committed to the bluff, there was no going back. So he forged ahead, “So, unless you want this to become decidedly unpleasant, I would advise that you direct me to the person in charge here.”

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

At length the senior Guard deigned to speak.

“I apologize for my earlier rudeness,” he began, “please understand I bring dire tidings to you’re lord. I cannot reveal the details right now, but suffice to say that I have foreseen a great danger looming on the horizon. I only wish to prevent a tragedy from befalling my people.” He looked into the guards eyes with as much earnestness and supplication as he could muster and then something clicked in his head, “Did you say ‘Lady’?”

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

"The Dark Lord is away," the former guard repeated, slicing his eyes once again to his compatriot, nodding his horned head to the barest degree. Both took steps sidewards, away from the door, their spears now perfectly perpendicular to the floor, hafts planted firmly upon it.

"You may enter; seek the Dark Lady in the Receiving Hall, third door on the left. If the doors are closed, enter not; return to the Dining Hall, first door on the left, and there seek assistance."

Naad smiled at the guards as they admitted him into the temple. “You have done your people a great service today,” he said to them. If they heard his compliment they seemed relatively unmoved by it. Instead they reacquired their stony demeanors and stiff postures and resumed their silent vigil over the Temple’s entryway. Naad walked purposefully down the richly appointed hall, looking over his shoulder only once just in time to watch the great double doors swing silently shut behind him. Ahead of him lay a long central corridor, riddled with numerous smaller, bisecting corridors. The place was a labyrinth and, had it not been for the guard’s instructions, Naad surely would have wandered for hours. It occurred to Naad that, though his bluff had succeeded in the immediate sense, he had, in fact, foreseen no danger or peril of any kind for the Temple’s inhabitance (except that which he himself was stirring up) and that it might have been foolhardy to embark upon such an outlandish deception without at least some preparation. Then the plan struck him. It emerged, fully formed, out of the depths of his self conscious. Indeed, the thought occurred so suddenly that Naad himself was taken by surprise and felt compelled to say a silent thank you to his (relatively) newly acquired young and nimble mind. Mentally examining the plan in his mind for any flaws that were the hallmark of ideas conceived in such a spontaneous fashion, Naad decided that this course of action was indeed the best available to him at this time. He smiled; he had not remembered himself being so cunning as a youth. He ached to contact Kaz and the others of the United Sith so that he might get his newly conceived gambit underway, but he contained this impulse. He would have to wait until he was alone before he undertook such activities. Right now his job was simple. He must convince the Lady, whoever she was, who was currently in charge of the Warrior clan of an imminent threat posed by the empire. Naad could not believe it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. Surely the Empire would not take kindly to the wholesale destruction of the fleet they had stationed in the Sith system, which Naad had sensed and later, through various scrying and divining magicks, born witness to.

Naad reached the third door and, carefully following the guard’s instructions lest he be cast out of the Temple (or something worse), put his hand against the ancient door, which was slightly ajar, and pushed against it. He hoped as the door swung open with a faint groan, that this did not constitute a violation of the guard’s instructions. The door swung open just enough to reveal an empty chamber. Naad turned on his heels and proceded briskly back up the hall to the entrance to the Dinning Hall. Naad tried to attract the attention of passing Sith warriors and ask them for directions, but most simply ignored him or brushed him off and pushed violently past him.

[ 05-30-2007 12:02 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Freedon Naad ]

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

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

She sighed as she maneuvered through the doors, juggling the oversized tray and her delicately coiling horns through the opening as they began closing. Doors in the temple opened smoothly, silently; they closed with something of alacrity.

By wriggling her hiney and arcing her back she managed to gain the main corridor without having the door bang into her, or snatching up the hem of her dress. That had happened to her more than once; it was more than a bit embarrassing, for no warrior in his right mind would stop to assist her; neither would the upper crust servants. Thus is it lessons were learned in the Temple of the Warriors: by trial and error.

And usually those who continued trying via error did not last long...

Puffing a lock of her raven's-wing tresses from her forehead, she was starting her turn in the direction of the double doors at the end of the corridor, those leading to the heavily pillared Grand Foyer beyond, when in her peripheral vision she spotted something dishearteningly familiar.

Someone was being unduly jostled by the passing warriors.

She paused out of sheer curiosity; was there another young, green serving girl? She hoped so; it would be nice to have a friend. But no, it turned out to be a male, not female; her brows rose in surprise, however, to see the Sith wore not the armored tunics and braces of the warriors but rather the long flowing robes of the sorcerers.

She squinted briefly: rather bedraggled robes at that, denoting this particular sorcerer was not one of the upper echelon.

Her heart went out in sympathy. Turning from her duties for the moment, she approached the pummeled Sith, who had turned to look --glare more than likely -- at the receding backs of the last pair of warriors who had brushed against him with undue roughness. Because his back was to her, and because her tread was light, he didn't know she was behind him until she spoke.

"I apologize for their behavior," she said softly as she came to a halt a meter or so behind him.

"Warriors are all muscle, you know; would you like some water?"

Naad was startled by the gentle voice behind him. Indeed, he was so startled that he flinched slightly (a reflex he tried to mask by turning around to face the person addressing him). His level of surprise was further elevated when he found himself face to face with a dark haired and rather charming, young Sith girl.

“Ah, heh, um,” Naad said eloquently, remembering now, as his blood boiled and his hormones began to make their presence felt, why, in his youth, he had done his best to avoid any interaction with the fairer sex. He forced himself to be quiet and smiled at her while he took a moment to compose himself. She was quite pretty, if a bit haggard and bedraggled from a hard day at work. She had black locks which flowed wildly, yet with a sort of grace, down to her shoulders. Her coiled horns rose up out of her dark hair; their elegant semi-spiral shape looked almost dainty on her. It occurred to Naad that he had been smiling at her quietly for longer than he had planned. Indeed, as the seconds passed he was rapidly approaching the boarder between a kind smile and a leer. To avoid, as much as was possible at this point, embarrassing himself and driving away the only person who had seemed willing to help him, Naad forced himself to speak.

“Uh huh,” he began, “I, um, came from a nearby village. I am supposed to be meeting with the Dark… ah… Lady. I have important news for… um… her.” Naad mentally berated himself, in his excitement about the notion of returning to his young, pre-Dark Jedi war, body he had forgotten that the aforementioned body was that of an awkward Sith youth who had never quite outgrown his adolescent social discomfort. Naad composed himself, he was better than this, he couldn’t let some serving girl ruffle his feathers. He was a centuries old sorcerer, learned in the ways of the universe and possessing esoteric knowledge and arcane powers these people could not even fathom. He was in control. “Uh, I was told to check the receiving hall, but it was empty, heh. So, um, do you know how I could find, uh, her?” As he finished asking the question he could not help but sigh inwardly.

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

"If the Dark Lady is not in the Receiving Hall, she must be out and about upon temple business," she stated, reasoning this for the fact that indeed she had heard nothing via the servants' grapevine as to what that personage desired on this particular day.

"But if you wish, I may be able to find her daughter, who would stand in her stead if the news you have to bear is of so urgent a nature."

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

"Then, if you will be so kind as to follow me," she said, indicating the corridor in the direction of the double doors that led to the Grand Foyer beyond. Turning, she then hastened quickly along, seemingly too embarrassed to look Freedon in the face, keeping her eyes demurely to the floor. Moments later she stopped, indicating another huge set of ornately carved and richly bejeweled doors.

"In here, if you will," she said, opening them to reveal the Dining Hall.

"If you will make yourself comfortable here, partake of food and refreshment, I shall inform others of your presence and desire here."

With that she bowed her head, waited until the sorcerer had entered the Dining Hall, and then left. It didn't take her long to find one of the elder servants, and explained Freedon's request to speak with the young ShaRhylla in lieu of the Dark Lady. After a brief conversation with her elder, she bowed respectfully and left for the Dining Hall once again.

She found Freedon sitting in a quiet booth, alone and unserved. Frowning, she approached his table and came to a halt beside him, bending low.

"The Lady ShaRhylla is not known for her alacrity," she whispered into his ear. Straightening, she continued.

“Good day Kaz,” Naad said by way of introduction, “I trust everything is going well.”

“Yes, sir,” Kaz replied, never one for lengthy conversation.

“Good,” Naad said, speaking quickly so as to not still be conversing when the servant girl arrived, “I havn’t got much time, but it is urgent that you see that what I am about to tell you is done swiftly. Please don’t ask any questions unless absolutely necessary, and even then let me finish talking before you ask. I haven’t much time. Do you understand?”

Kaz was silent.

“Kaz?” Naad asked, his voice a menacing hiss, after a few moments pause, “is you nodding?’

“Yes, sir.” Kaz’s response crackled on the other end of the line. Naad sighed, for all Kaz’s fealty; the fact remained that the farmer simply wasn’t the sharpest sword in the armory.

“Don’t nod Kaz, I can’t see you.” Naad replied testily.

There was another fairly lengthy pause then Kaz said, “oh… uh… sorry about that. Yes, sir.”

“You remember how I told you. How I told all of you of the many lies you had been told. How you had been brought forward through time by the lord of sorcerers. How in truth our race was all but whipped from the pages of history by the Dark Jedi,” Naad did not wait for Kaz to reply this time, “Well, in the intervening time the political landscape of the galaxy has shifted. significantly, but our place in it is still a precarious one. Not long ago the alien fleet blockading our world was, as I have told you, destroyed. Very likely this feat was accomplished by one of our people. What the perpetrator of this deed failed, seemingly to appreciate that this would prompt retaliatory action. I don’t know when this retaliation will come, but it is not wise to sit around in wait for it. Far better I think to see if we cannot curry favor with the political powers in the galaxy and see if we can’t manipulate them to our ends. I do not relish the ideas of involving these outlanders but practical reality dictates that we must. I trust your judgment Kaz. Pick from among our number an emissary who is clever and… er… politically savvy. Send a warrior or two with them for safety, and bid them, on my authority, to seek an audience with Admiral Actar, leader of the Galactic Empire, or else another significant Imperial authority there is a man by the name of Sorben Tarnus who, if memory serves, is also a prominent figure in Imperial politics. Inform them that they are on a very important and very secret political mission. Further instruct them that they are to make every effort to convince the Empire that we would be an invaluable asset in any future retaliation, so long as they allow us to retain our autonomy. See that they depart immediately. I will contact them personally with further instructions as soon as I am able, but it is vital that they start at once as I am sure that it will be very difficult to arrange a meeting with an individual of such standing. Do this at once. Also, I can’t stress this enough, neither you, nor our emissary is to breath a word of this to any other citizen of the United Sith. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Kaz replied.

“Good, we will be in touch, but I must go for now,” said Naad, slipping the com unit back into the folds of his robes.

No sooner had he done so than the doors at the far end of the dining all opened and the pretty young serving girl entered. Naad found himself smiling at her involuntarily again. He must learn how to control this reflex, he thought to himself. She bent low and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. Her breath on his skin was at once profoundly pleasant and discomfiting. Naad had never been a great romantic, nor had he considered himself prone to flights of fancy, but he found it hard at that moment not to imagine what it would be like if she hadn’t been whispering a slightly unfavorable comment about her employer into his ear, but had instead been murmuring sweet nothings. This image made him grow tense. He became suddenly very aware of not only her proximity, but also was overcome by a wave of self-consciousness. His palms began to sweat and he stiffened his posture, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him and sitting stock still, as if afraid that slouching or behaving normally might betray the somewhat nonprofessional though that had just crossed his mind. When she straightened and asked if there was anything else she could do for him, it occurred to him that, though he had heard what she had been saying, he could recall very little of it other than the fact that the daughter of the Dark Lady would see him eventually and that she was known to be slow. He admonished himself. He would have to control these awkward habits that seemed to be burned into the very fiber of his (relatively) recently acquired youthful body. True, this serving girl made him uncomfortable, but he prudently resisted the urge to send her away. She could prove a vital font of information for him, and information was one of the principle reasons he had undertaken this trip.
“I understand you must have things to do, but if you wouldn’t mind I could use some company. Perhaps you could even fill me in on the goings on around the Temple while I wait.” He smiled at her and gestured to the bench across from him, “Please?”

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

"Thank you," she said softly as she slid into the seat across from Freedon, hurriedly placing her tray with it's burden of glassware on the seat next to her. Satisfied that she could pass, at least for the moment, as another customer, she folded her hands on top of the tabke and studied the sorcerer from beneath her long lashes.

Underneath those lashes, her deep bittersweet eyes seemed to smoke with a sultry abandon that was in complete juxtaposition to her quiet demeanor.

At length she raised her face completely to Freedon.

"Who are you?" she asked, a bit boldly. But she had been invited to share a table with him; such boldness therefore was not against the Sith equivalent of Amy Vanderbilt's "Rules For The Genteel Young Lady."

"I've not seen you here before, but then, I am kept quite busy. I don't get out very often."

She quieted, a rueful smile flickering across her full lips, here eyes growing a little vague as images of the her life of drudgery momentarily intervened. Shaking this off, she smiled more brightly.

"My name is RhoHalla," she finished, and fell into quiet once again.

“Who am I?” he repeated, surprised that the simple question was not one for which he had a quick answer. Sure he could say he was a reclusive Sorcerer who lived on this world. Indeed that would probably be the wisest course of action. Yet, somehow his ego would not permit him to tell her that he was of such a humble background. Even though he knew it was essential that no one, even a servant, know of his seditious faction and of his plot against the Triumvirate, he found himself wanting to reveal this to her. Not so much out of a sense of honesty, but because some part of him wanted to impress her. He met her gaze evenly, like an expert gambler meeting the eyes of his opponent over a hand of sabacc cards, and told her, not everything, but far more than even he himself thought was safe.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you RhoHalla, my name is Freedon Naad,” he began, his voice probably unnecessarily quite considering the loud clamor that the Warriors around them were making in the course of their dining, “and you are correct, I am not from around here. Though I do live on this world, I can’t say I come to the Temple, or even this city, very much.” He paused and smiled wryly at her, “which I’m coming to believe was a mistake on my part.”

Even as the words left his mouth he knew he would look back on this conversation and kick himself for saying that. Indeed, Naad was more than a little disturbed at the changes this young Sith was causing in his personality, which had remained pretty consistently inflexible for eons. Shaking off the onslaught of embarrassment he continued, “I live north of here in a…” Naad hesitated as he tried to pick a word which would accurately describe his tiny city-state without making it sound suspicious, “community of free thinking individuals, of which I have the honor of being the leader. I only made the journey to the temple today to warn the Dark Lady of this clan of a imminent danger that looms before our people. But I see that the leadership here, much like the leadership of all the other Clans lately, is characteristically absent and seemingly apathetic to the issues which their people face.”

((OOC: I almost feel bad making you do all this character development for what amounts to an NPC.))

[ 06-07-2007 03:30 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Freedon Naad ]

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

"Are you a Lord, then?" she asked, frowning. "Strange, that a sorcerer would lead a small clan on K'eel Doba..."

She caught her lip between her dainty fangs then, catching the sight of Freedon's apparent discomfort. Whether that discomfort was directed at her or at himself, she couldn't say. But being the servant that she was, she responded immediately to his discomfiture.

"But then, what do I know of the political structure of our great world?" she asked, smiling prettily. "I am but a servant in the temple; all I know is that if one who is not Sith may lead our people as Dark Lady, then why could a sorcerer not become a Lord over a warrior's clan?"

She cast a bold look once more into Freedon's face before lowering her eyes demurely. Then, since a serving wench had come and left them with a pitcher of water, she helped herself of it, and soon hid her own growing embarrassment behind the lip of one of the two gleaming silver goblets which had been provided for their use.

“I’m not a lord per-se, nor are we warrior clan, or even a population made up largely of warriors.” Naad, began to explain, but then, seeing RhoHalla coyly hiding her face behind the lip of a silver goblet that had clearly been wrought to be held by hands bigger than her own, thought the better of it and said instead, “it’s not important. This is indeed a strange world.” Naad smiled at her and picked up his own goblet, drinking deeply from it. The revelation that the leader of the warrior Clan was not only not a man, but also not a Sith startled him and he yearned to press her with questions. However, not wanting to appear to callous or, indeed, to ignorant of the world around him, he asked instead, “I suppose I ought to ask you the same question RhoHalla. Who are you, and how did one such as you come to work in this decidedly, course, place?”

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

"I was brought here when young; from what the Elders have revealed to me, the Ruling Clan was in need of new servants. Word went out; my family is poor, and needed the money. I have-- had often been told that I was pretty, and that this would guarantee me a place within the Temple. It was the one small way I could honor my parents.

"Or so it was explained to me."

Naad smiled at her. He was a practiced manipulator, and like many of his ilk, the facial features became tools of deception rather than mediums for emotional expression. He had learned to smile while sorrowful, laugh while enraged, and to look someone unabashedly and sincerely in the face while he told them the most elaborate lies. In the course of mastering this art he had progressively eroded his capacity for genuine expression. Rarely, if ever, did he smile inadvertently. He smiled now, not because he was trying to console her, but because he realized how useful someone as unquestioningly loyal, and yet, nimble of mind as RhoHalla could be. He smiled also because he saw now that it might be possible to recruit her to his cause. How useful it would be to have a pair of eyes and ears within the temple itself.

He took a long drink from his goblet and then asked, “Tell me RhoHalla, were you not constrained by the accident of birth, what would you like to be doing with your life? Surely, you must dream of leaving the life of a Temple servant behind you? Pardon me if I am being presumptuous.”

[ 06-22-2007 01:00 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Freedon Naad ]

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

Kaz was uncomfortable with the amount of power Naad had entrusted him with and could not wait to return to his usual agrarian responsibilities. Naad had suspected that this was the case and had selected Kaz as his temporary replacement for this reason. He had not, however, fully realized how reluctant Kaz would be to exercise power. In Naad’s short absence sub-communities had begun to form within the village seemingly of their own accord. These groups tended to be organized along vocational lines and in many ways resembled the clan system that the United Sith had formed in defiance of. There were a few key differences which Kaz felt were reasonable enough that he did not wish to ban them outright, these differences being that these groups (which were increasingly being called Guilds) did not mandate membership along familial lines but rather was a voluntary organization, the second key difference was that they were substantially smaller and less powerful than the Clans and had no place in village governance.

Still Kaz felt certain Naad would not like these new organizations. He also felt guilty because he had, inadvertently, started the first of these when he had established the Agricultural Planning Committee. He had done this because there was far more land than there were farmers and as it became necessary for some farmers to share the labor on certain fields, at least until the worker shortage ended, and to regulate the work on these communal fields, Kaz had created the Agricultural Planning Board (with Naad’s authorization) several weeks earlier.

Shortly thereafter the Guild of Warriors had formed. It had been comprised of the former Warrior Clan members and of officers in the Militia. This too had seemed innocent as they seemed predominantly concerned with establishing a uniform system. Then, immediately after Naad’s departure, some of the more veteran sorcerers formed Guild of Sorcerers. Many of the younger sorcerers, however, had decided not to join this and had either remained independent or joined the emerging Guild of Sorcerer-engineers (a group which was lead by the former Armorers and which taught the young magicians who made up their small body of membership the art of Sith craftsmanship.)

When Naad had contacted him Kaz had been eager to discuss these pressing developments with him, however, he had been cut off and instead given a strict set of instructions. Kaz was good at following orders and glad to have orders to follow again so he immediately sprang into action. The decision of who to send as a fitting diplomat for their people was a surprisingly simple one. It took him more time to decide on who would be a fitting escort and who the village could spare for a potentially long mission. Kaz sent a runner out to summon AyaShaar, a young, but promising and potent sorceress, and HaFassil a seasoned and inveterate warrior. Because Kaz knew almost nothing about statecraft he was reluctant to give instructions and instead repeated to them what Naad had told him and assured them that their leader would contact them with further instructions as soon as he could. Within a few hours AyaShaar and HaFassil were boarding one of the more elegant Sith, and Kaz hoped, functional, spacecraft that the village had in its possession.

The spacecraft were housed in a compound near the town wall which had been built by the Armorers and a score of laborers almost a year ago and was set up to accommodate no more than three medium sized spacecraft. It currently housed two medium transports and a handful of smaller spacecraft in various states of disrepair. The Armorers alleged that they were repairing the crafts but Kaz was convinced that the facility had become more of a teaching center for the fledgling sorcerer-engineers.

AyaShaar was the first to arrive at the makeshift spaceport dressed in elegant and stately sorcerer’s robes. HaFassil arrived a few moments later, clearly uncomfortable in the new uniform he had been fitted with by the Guild of Warriors. In a departure from the traditional robes, he had been fitted with a white breastplate (which would appear commonplace familiar to anyone familiar to a storm trooper uniform, but which appeared strange to the Sith Warrior) and a black armorweave body suit beneath. Perhaps as a concession to tradition the armor was partially covered by a standard Warrior’s robe which had been so scaled back on top (for fear of compounding the limitations on movement that the breastplate caused) that it resembled a toga. The one part of his attire that HaFassil appeared completely comfortable with was the finely crafted saber which had been sheathed in an elegant ebony scabbard at his side.

As strange as the uniform doubtlessly was, Kaz had to admit that the two looked the part of diplomat and bodyguard. The two boarded the spacecraft together and took off for the stars. Kaz felt a wave of relief wash over him when the little ship disappeared into the sky and did not come hurtling back down.

((OOC: Follow the two envoys of the United Sith to "Back into the fire" in EMPIRE AND NEW REPUBLIC.))

This was her place. This was where she was meant to be. This was what Life had woven out for her, her destiny...

Wasn't it?

For a long moment she sat thus, her slender, daintily clawed hands fingered nervously together as myriad shady questions suddenly began shadowing up in her head, dangling there like so much forbidden fruit enticing her to take a bite.

Was such a thing, although accepted by their culture, truly right?

The fingers of her hands uncoiled, allowing one set to lift and place themselves against her mouth. She blinked, raised her face, cast a quick glance about herself as if afraid others had been able to overhear them, to read her very thoughts.

"I-- I don't know," she finally said in a near-whisper. She stopped, swallowed, considered a moment longer. Dared for the first time in many years to think outside the parameters of the box she had been placed into.

Recoiled in instinctive fright at the grim, preordained gloom and loneliness and glittering drudgery she suddenly saw waiting there. Focused eyes now flickering with the slightest touch of anger directly into Freedon's pair once again.

"Perhaps... simply the ability to decide for myself what I'd like to do with it?" she finally said, her voice very, very low but for the first time filled with budding determination.