Ask Felucia Magical Mystery Tour

[Renfry]

She watched him closely as he began to prepare whatever he was doing. She could feel the power resonating in the Shadow, despite the unusual means of channeling it.

As he began to "speak" she could feel the air around her pulsate with energy. The words conjured images and sounds and multiple things clicked into her mind at once. The first and oldest was the early days when she had met Emryc on Dathomir. She had told him of the song sung by the Spirits of the planet - for both good and ill - and the way she heard it. The power that it had for a shaman alert to its tune. The second was the memory of the music she had heard aboard Morgan's ship when she had been aboard. And finally, she thought of the runes she had seen and the ones that were missing. He would be able to see the lightbulb click on in her mind as soon as she put all of this together and her face lit up again.

I see, she said. Her eyes darted around quickly, up and side to side as she thought. Oh yes, she understood now and her mind was working again. In due time, Ren. That'll take research anyway, she reminded herself.

I'll look into the runes you're missing, she said, though she knew in reality she was likely to have to create them herself.

She nodded as he said that Korriban would do. They had their heading after this, then. Though she didn't love Korriban it was... slowly... well, not growing on her, but she was acclimating. Maybe.

He unrolled the pieces of the sword and she looked down at them, running her finger along the flat of the blade. Before learning to use a saber, a physical sword was actually one of her first weapons, though not of the same design as this one, of course.

She could still feel the power pulsing through it, a dark energy that almost craved blood. It almost reminded her of the Eternal in its own way. But that was neither here nor there.

Bring them, she said, motioning for him to follow her with the shards. She headed down one of the hallways deeper into the base, listening to what he said about the tome as he waved it off.

Well, you've come to the right place, she said in response to his comments about seeking magick. The chamber of secrets will take some research, but the armor we can do directly, she said, glancing back to see if he was agreeable.

She led him deeper into the mountain, walking briefly past the underground lake that still sat along the walkways that crossed the lake. Eventually, she turned and opened a door, leading them down a set of stairs before they arrived at a small room with a handful of tools for forging along the wall and a central heating unit.

You good to do this on our own or should I get one of the armorers? she asked. She knew that she didn't have the skills to forge a sword herself, but he said that he did. If he was capable on his own, then she would being preparing the more arcane materials.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Different thoughts were clearly passing through the Nightsister's head. The hints were there and she'd just needed that last piece to the puzzle to figure out what sort of thing Morgan was trying to accomplish with this chamber of his. A large focus for other abilities that could be further enhanced by the addition of others taught and brought under one will. Not the most common concept for a Sith, particularly in the Eternal variant, but potentially useful.

"My thanks," Morgan replied, courteous as he usually was. After Renfry had examined the sword shards he rolled them back up and followed along toward another part of the complex. Goldens looked around with mild curiosity, only returning to the nightsister when she mentioned magick again.

"Then I hope to learn from you." He nodded in agreement at her suggestion about the armour. The forge was well equipped and Morgan hummed in a satisfied sort of way at the sight, even if the methods for making or remaking this sort of sword weren't exactly orthodox compared to an ordinary one. "An assistant would be welcome." Morgan began to gather the tools he would need, the shards placed down on a spare table. "Ah. I only know the way to make this specific sort of weapon. Armour is outside my knowledge." It was said matter-of-factly. Morgan wasn't someone who overly dwelled on his shortcomings, but looked to improve them.

Without further delay he began to prepare the forges themselves, muttering quietly to himself in the process. If Renfry listened she'd notice his tone changed on specific words but was otherwise steady and even, and the language he spoke was an old Sith dialect.

"Before you go. Have your opinions on the Sith changed from when we met, or last we spoke?"

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry nodded as he mentioned that an assistant would be welcome, stepping away directly and grabbing one of the Nightsister forgemasters. The woman was trying very hard not to give Morgan dirty looks, and he would gain the impression that not only did she not like people touching her forge and tools, but also that she had been informed not to put up a fuss about it.

That could be a problem, she said as Morgan mentioned that he didn't know how to make armor. We may need to make it here, then. With assistance, she said, nodding in the direction of the forgemaster. Stuck on Korriban without the armor could be complicated, unless...

She frowned in thought. The spirit. How were you planning to bind it? Directly to the armor or to a crystal embedded in the armor? she asked. The former was probably stronger, but the latter might be easier to craft.

As the forges lit up and they began to work, Renfry took a seat at one of the tables in the room, opening up a small tool kit, filled with instruments such as small hammer and chisel. Quite irregular creations, he may recognize them as being used for rune carvings on blades.

As he asked about her opinions of the Sith, she looked up at him, but her face remained decidedly stoic.

It's difficult to nail down a Sith Lord's opinion on things, wouldn't you say? she said. It was an absurdly cryptic and unhelpful answer, but she was still wary. What do you think my opinion should be? she asked instead, forcing him to make the first assertion on the topic.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan seemed rather indifferent to the looks he was getting from the Nightsister forgemaster. There were few whose opinions of him he paid any real attention to and this new person wasn't one of them. Instead he just handled her tools with relative politeness and put them back where they'd been with almost obsessive exactness. He likely would have done that anyway, but still.

"Armour. Crystal heart is a weak point." And it made the connection less powerful. He wasn't looking to mass produce these things. Morgan meanwhile resumed his muttering, an effort of the Force igniting coals in the forge as a starting point. The shards would need to be melted down first and combined with some other materials he'd brought with him. Morgan knew that wasn't the difficult part, but the shaping itself took the Force to accomplish. Ordinary hammering wouldn't do the job.

With the shards melting down in a long-handled bowl in the heat he removed the outermost layer of his tunic, leaving him in only the long-sleeved and close-fit red undertunic beneath. Goldens turned to look to Renfry when she offered a non-answer, a brow raising and lips curling slightly with amusement. Flat stoicism from someone who was neither of those things meant they were hiding their expression. Morgan did much the same when he needed to.

The Firrerreo grinned at her. "Is it for you?" he asked in a light-heartedly innocent tone despite his expression showing humour. "I've never had such trouble." Morgan waved his hand through the air as if to ward off the sense of awkward caution.

"I think your opinion should be yours and unchanged."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry knew that binding directly to the armor would make things more difficult, but she was not surprised to hear it. As she thought about that, she pulled out a piece of strong parchment and writing utensil, slowly beginning to draw something on the unusual "paper."

She watched him, knowing full-well that he was likely able to see right through her. She wasn't overly secretive, and she decided that there was little point to being so obscure. He knew what she had implied before, and she knew that if he came for her, she would not be so spineless as Malicia had been.

I think many members of the Order lack direction, and the Eternal... seems to have its own agenda, she said, though after years spent as a Sith she didn't understand that agenda any more than when she had first joined.

She stood and moved over toward the weapon being forged, leaning over and holding the paper in front of her.

Fu's, she read from the paper, a simple word, but infused with the power of the Shadow. Even the single word echoed through the Shadow and sent a swirl of air passively through the air. It clung to the weapon as it was forged, and she returned to the table to take another piece of parchment out and began to write again.

It's a multi-part process, she said as she got back to work once again.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan offered a wry grin toward the Nightsister. Even if her answer was true and honest in its own way she was still beating around the bush. With her experiences, trials and tribulations, had she learned how to play little games after all? Such was the way of the Sith in the end. Break, adapt, temper, change. Evolve or die.

Even Morgan was different. When the Firrerreo spoke it had always been just like dancing. Back and forth, step around, a twist of words like slender limbs locked in tango. Sweeping lows, soaring jumps, the sudden and surprisingly closeness when he found his opening. Rarely direct, always innuendo, subtext, a play on words.

Somehow he'd also learned how to be straightforward. As Renfry spoke her word of power the Force took hold of the melted shards and pulled them from the bowl to rest in the air. "An agenda of its own. No beginning nor end." Goldens looked up from the metal, beginning to infuse with power, to Renfry. "As members of the Council, should we not advise otherwise?" Well, at least a little straight forward.

The look in his eyes implied 'advise' didn't mean anything casual. But now it was his turn. Morgan took a breath and once more the energy of the Force around him began to shift. Small changes, almost like sounds, the tuning of an instrument. He began to sing. An ancient Sith war chant well documented in articles of the people of Korriban. A tale of forging metal into weapons and armour, of challenges to duels and beheading great foes. It was well recorded in many documents of the Sith people, but when he sang it the sound had power.

Interwoven was his will and together with Renfry the metal in the air began to form. Twisting, warping, expunged of impurities, instilled with energy of its own. It would take some time and, like Renfry, he paused after speaking the first verse.

"This will take some time," Morgan commented. "But less with your help, I think."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Yes, Renfry had been forced to learn games of her own. She was far from the young, wild, direct woman she had been when she had first met him all those years ago on Dathomir.

He, on the other hand, seemed less evasive than he used to be. Now the two of them seemed to be overlapping in some middle ground of speaking without speaking.

We are the guides for the future, she said. Without the two of them, there would be no future of the Sith Order. The Eternal was useless.

She watched and listened as he began to sing, feeling the air vibrate with power in much the same way it had when she spoke her words. It was fascinating, and a power she was quite interested in learning more about.

She made her way over to the table and began drawing the next rune with detail. Roh she said, standing over the blade and letting the word carry the powr into the blade between his stanzas.

She returned to the table for the final word, watching and waiting for another break in his rhythm.

Where did you learn to do that? she asked curiously. It wasn't a technique taught as standard within the Sith.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan had to agree. One way or another the Eternal needed to go. Ruling purely by fear and destruction only went so far and clashed with the Firrerreo's teachings and philosophy. The evidence was obvious and shown in Palpatine's failures as an example. Drast empires lasted for centuries, how could short-sighted actions keep the ambitious and powerful in line? Should the current Dark Lord not be drowning in advice from the mask they wore?

A slow breath followed the end of his first verse, the Nightsister's magic weaving into and through. It was like a duet of sorts, the beat of drums to link together the strings of a two person orchestra. Slender fingers turned and twisted to continue forming the metal's shape, but he only guided it that way. The two of them were here to speak the weapon into existence rather than create the empty form of a sword.

"A demon taught me," Morgan replied with amusement. His teacher's identity was something he'd always been evasive about so this kind of answer wouldn't be new to Renfry. On the other hand, she was helping him for free. That hadn't gotten past him. "There are as many Sith ways and philosophies as there have been Sith, yes?" A second verse was sung, latching onto the end of the first.

The strange alloys of the shards came to life under their influence, a white-hot line spreading up the center of the sword. Its edge began to thin and sharpen. There was still more work to be done, especially the detail work, but the physical and spiritual vessels were coming along nicely.

"Mine evolved secluded from others."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry finished the final of the three words, walking over to the sword and speaking it through the Shadow, letting the power flow into the blade. Duh.

She took a step back, watching as the dust settled from the final word. It was weaved together with that which he sang into existence, a single entity that would be the stronger for it, bound by the will of two rather than one. The Sith way.

The answer that he gave caused her eyebrow to quirk. An interesting word. To a Nightsister who spent much of her time dealing with the dead and what lay beyond, she wasn't even certain she believed in such concepts as "demons." There were avatars of the Shadow and spirits of the dead, but true demons? They tended to be things of legend. But then, one could argue that the spirits of the dead could be called that by some. She didn't ask him to expand on it, though her mind continued to churn it over. Of course, it could have also been simply a label for something more "mundane" as well.

She could see the blade begin to evolve and change with their power, shaping into something far more deadly and almost alive in the Shadow.

She wondered silently what it had cost to learn such a power. Whether real or figurative, deals with beings like that always had a cost. A very interesting technique, she said.

As the blade came to its fruition, she let her eyes glide over it. It was quite beautiful both within the physical world and beyond it.

And yet you still found your way into the Sith. We all did, she said, knowing she was far from the normal way of coming into the Sith as well.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Final touches on this beginning step of the blade's forging were coming to fruition. Crafting a Sith sword was almost more a metaphysical process than pure strength and skill similar to building a lightsaber, if more complicated than the more common method, especially if the weapon was meant to hold a power of its own. Part of that did mean including a crystal for the weapon just like a lightsaber.

As the metallic lattice and empowerment through the Dark properly formed in the blade, a thing that would be able to cut through most materials with ludicrous ease, Morgan's unused hand pulled his main lightsaber from his belt. Panels twisted to come apart in the air and the glint of a luminescent crimson pearl shining like a red star in the flame-lit space of the workshop.

"Isn't it just?" Goldens turned back toward Renfry and a few moments of silence passing between them. His lips curled into a fang-filled grin, a likely unintentionally menacing gesture in the current lighting. "Found my way into the Sith Eternal," he corrected slowly, as if tasting the words just before he spoke them. "I have always been Sith."

Stolas paused again, head tilting slightly. The crimson pearl levitated upward toward the blade and Morgan sat down, legs crossed. Where the tang would ordinarily be the metal instead flowed around the crystal, his singing continuing on to the third verse. This step was the most finicky part and took significant concentration on his part. Both objects had their own unique lattice, and both would need to be correctly married together and bonded to their wielder.

Even this early the blade was forming a sort of will all its own, a presence in the Shadow.

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Hm, she said in reply to her correction. She hadn't been, but she supposed he saw things differently. She wasn't going to mince words about it, however.

She watched as he fixed the remainder of the sword in place and continued to work, though much of her own job in the blade was done. She said nothing has he fixed the crystal in place, allowing him the concentration he required to complete the process. She knew how delicate these processes could be.

She could feel it beginning to resonate as the blade was worked into place and she turned her mind once again toward his other projects he intended to work on.

What do you intend to do with the suit of armor? she asked.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Just another hint offered, a tidbit of path to follow if the Nightsister felt like trying to follow along. She didn't seem overly interested at the moment and that was fine, really. Morgan did need to focus on his present task after all. Metal finished molding and flowering and then there came the delicate work of merging lattices. At least he could have a basic conversation while he concentrated.

The armour's purpose was a good question. He guessed Renfry wondered both for practical and her own curiosity. "For battle, of course. And to protect." He did feel the need to lip his sentences a little short given his preoccupation but he was being honest about it. An animated construct had multiple uses. "A fun experiment, no?" And more his style than a merged pile of mutated corpses or something like that.

"There are some things I can't entrust to living souls. That's all." The sword itself came along apace, if not quickly. Morgan was already well-attuned to the crystal itself and fusing it to the new weapon took more concentration than time. Eventually, when that process was nearly done, the remaining surrounding pieces would be pulled from the table he'd lay them on. They too merged into place, the hilt itself slipping into place as Morgan muttered low to himself.

Until at last under his influence it began to cool and temper, leaving a completed sword floating in the air. It needed some polishing and such and additional time for personal attunement, still raw, but the difficult work was done. Golden eyes opened again.

"Some have used things of flame and fury to guard their legacy. Others prefer deathly cold steel." Morgan looked at Renfry. "Your magick is better for binding spirits. From what I can tell."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Obscure answers, though not untrue. Battle was vague, but then, it was certainly possible that he didn't really know what he would use it for yet. Either way, he was certainly right about one thing: Quite a fun experiment, she agreed.

The dead can be more deceptive than the living, she warned. She knew he was interested in magick and had evidently had interactions with something he termed a demon, but she wondered to what extent he had dealt with the deception of the dead.

She watched as he set the final pieces of the sword into place and she could feel the energy around them flowing through it as if it were a living thing now. Not so different from a lightsaber: alive but not sentient in the way the two Sith Lords were.

Our magick has a closer bond to the dead than any others, she said. Even more so than Sith magick or alchemy. The Nightsisters at their core were beings who protected the junction between the living and the dead.

And what legacy are you hoping to guard with this suit of armor? she asked. Yes, he had something in mind for it to do. At least that was what he was implying, and she was as nosey as ever.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan looked skeptical and curious about Renfry's warning. He supposed the dead didn't have much else to do while they floated around being dead, after all. How well could he read a spirit's expressions, anyway? Curiosity steadily replaced skepticism over a few seconds' time.

"Then I'll have to be persuasive, no?" he answered with a mischievous grin. His last attempt at 'persuasion' with a spirit had involved a net of wracking red energy but in his defense the spectre had attacked first. With any good fortune he hoped the two could find an existence sympathetic to the cause. Or at least bored enough with death to go through with the whole thing. It would just be easier that way.

"Is it closer to the dead, or closer to life?" Morgan's question came suddenly after a lengthy silence. He wasn't an expert but could observe the way Dathomir just was the way it was. His sword floated down onto a table as the Firrerreo stood up again, raising his arms into a stretch. He felt a little tired from the concentration required for fine-tuning the weapon.

That was probably why he started chuckling at Renfry's next question. "Years later," he began with a twinkle in his eye, "You're still full of questions." Some things changed, tempered, were discarded. Others stayed exactly the same. It was just funny in its own way.

"Mine. And, what is most dear to me. What else?" He raised a hand, grin widening. "Going to ask what that legacy is next?"

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

She nodded when he said he would have to be persuasive. That is one way, she said. She thought back to when she had tethered a Spirit to Malicia. They had convinced the being that it was better to aid them than anything else. For a moment wondered what had actually become of Malicia and her children. There was a momentary, fleeting pang of sadness that was quickly shoved aside. It was not something she would linger on and while some of the anger had faded, some still remained.

And be on your A game the entire time, she added. They were tricksters, Beings with nothing to do except think and ponder how to deceive others so that they could possess a body again or worse.

When he asked her which Dathomir was closer to she paused a moment. It was a world in balance. Nature took its course unimpeded there. No one imposed "civilization" on it and so death and life thrived in equal measure.

Yes, she answered after a moment. There's a balance between both as you'll find with most things there, she said. Despite her love of the world, it wasn't often that she actually spoke to others about it. And like those things, life and death are in balance. Even if it's not to your taste, she said, though she wasn't sure that was what he was getting at. She didn't seem angry or malicious in saying it, but she understood that most didn't appreciate the planet the way she did.

Some things never change, she agreed. It was why she had left her homeworld in the first place: insatiable curiosity. Questions that needed answering. It wasn't likely to change and it was what had driven her to become such a successful expert in the arcane.

Of course I am, she said, lips cracking into a smile. She didn't know if she'd get an answer, but she was certainly going to try. He was smiling as well, and she appreciated that they both found humor in this. It was the first moment since they'd begun this that felt like it wasn't on edge.

But you're going to give me some cryptic answer that doesn't tell me anything because some things never change, she said.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Lost in thought was where Morgan found himself when Renfry added a warning about the deceitful nature of spirits. They were such strange and ethereal things, spirits, links to the past that he'd mostly heard tales of. His most recent direct experience with one involved binding it with a net, Morgan's imperfect sorcery only enough to keep it still for a time. There hadn't been much actual conversation, but still.

She got his more direct attention once Nightsister magick became the subject. Morgan's expression was deeply pensive as she spoke, explained it. Before long they'd moved on again and he didn't have some great and insightful or playful commentary to make this time. Something was brewing behind those eyes of his. "Balance..." he muttered quietly to himself.

Morgan blinked over at Renfry when she smiled and he smiled back. It was odd, he thought, how he still hadn't smiled all too much lately. He still remembered the bantering back and forth with the Nightsister when they'd first met years ago on Dathomir. Even with the moments of awkwardness it'd been fun and productive.

"Cryptic?" His aghast expression was obviously fake given the grin and playful light in golden eyes. "How could I tease you, O' Queen? There's never nothing at all." This felt better to Morgan than what things had been like lately. Morgan chuckled again, leaning back against the forge wall while the Nightsister forgemistress looked at him as if he'd grown two extra heads. Probably wondering what kind of Sith Lord this was supposed to be.

"Can one find and call a specific spirit?" he asked suddenly, eyebrows raising a little.

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

She rolled her eyes with a smile at what he said. It felt nice to not be quite so on edge if only for a moment. Every moment of every day was frayed nerves and hard work. Someone always needed something from her and the moments to just be outside the chaos were few and far between.

Yes, of course, what was I thinking/ You're always so forthcoming with everything, she said. He absolutely wasn't, and that was a hard and fast fact. It wasn't even opinion. He had a reputation among the Acolytes for his evasive answers to literally everything.

"Lord Stolas, where can I find the fresher?" "What need does man have of a fresher?" she said, biting her inner lip to keep from laughing.

She took a slightly more serious position once again as he asked his question. His lips twisted up a bit in thought and her head shifted back and forth as well.

Under the right circumstances, but it's not just like picking up a comlink and dialing, she said. It was the best comparison, and even then it wasn't easy. Why? Are you wanting to summon someone? she asked.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan waved his hand lazily through air. "Well it's no fun if I just tell them," he replied with a chuckle. Sure he was much better about being straightforward these days but messing with acolytes in particular was a perk of his position. When they bothered coming up to him instead of just being intimidated at least.

His eyes found a spot on the wall very interesting while Renfry explained a little about spirit calling. Morgan folded his arms across his chest, slender fingers tapping against the opposite bicep as he wondered at the specifics involved. The devil was in the details he liked to saay. Idly he wondered if it involved sacrificing goats or if that was just another strange rumour?

"I'm certainly thinking about it," he said vaguely before breaking out into a playful grin. "But if I told you who it was how could I keep up with your expectations?" Goldens turned back to the Nightsister and his grin turned a little dry, but certainly not unfriendly. "No spoilers just yet. I have to prepare anyway." Morgan paused a moment.

"Not for the armour idea. Just for me." In rhythm his fingers continued to tap along his arm. "I'll explain things then."

Then he got himself up off the wall and stretched again. "Thank you for your help, Renfry." He picked up the sword. Attunement and etching still needed to be done but he should be able to handle those steps. "I feel this idea is urgent. Will prepare quick as I can." Morgan gave her one of his shallow little bows and smiled in a friendly sort of way.

"Don't be a stranger, yes?" Something in Morgan seemed lighter than it'd been in a long while, like some weight or other was gradually lifting itself from his shoulders. After some other little exchanges and a refill of Firrerrreon spices for Renfry he would depart Felucia.

The Drast had work to do.

@Phoenix