The New Arrival (Open)

[Isan]

Isan emerged from the craft setting his eyes upon the barren land. He felt the darkside here. It was similar, yet different, than the world he once called home. The world where he learned the arts of Bogan as he grew among the cult.

He wore a proper dress including his shirt as he emerged and with tomes in hand he moved forth into this new world. As he saw great temple rising before him he knew instinctively that it was to be his destination. It served as a dark beacon among the vastly empty landscape.

He knew little of this new group. Only that they sought to bring back the old ways. Ways that he knew were the same as were mentioned in the tomes he clutched in his hands. The Bogan has many names. He assured himself that the tomes were to find their proper home here. A home more suitable than with the reformed cult of his home world.


Isan made his way past the open tombs. His casual attention revealed movement and sounds from within and he knew to tread with caution as he did with the Hssiss of his home world. They would not attack without provocation unless they were starved and caught scent of easy prey. It was a scent he hoped he did not carry as he passed the open tombs and started up the steps of the great temple.


Though he knew not what to expect from this new order he held little apprehension that his actions were just. The tomes which he held in his hands were sacred to him and he knew that in the quest for knowledge this new group would take head of the words written within them. The Bogan would be served. It was as his vision as a youth when he scribed the words into his talisman. He would instil the faith of Bogan and spread its words to a vast degree. It seemed to him that this was what the words had meant. This new order would be the device in which he would spread the influence of Bogan into the galaxy at large. Perhaps it would even be the device in which he could restore the faith of Bogan to his former cult and strike down the usurper for his heretic ways.



OOC Notes: Still open slot for the one who brought me to the temple. Would like to play it out in blast from the past as well so if you're interested shoot me a PM.

[Foxfire]

The court yard of the Sith temple was unusually quiet and calm. It could be that a Korriban storm was approaching and none wanted to be sand blasted. As for Cho Wroth it matter not to him, sand storm or what ever. Cho with his stary black hood rested upon a statue that had been cleaved in half leaving only the lower half for the young ones used the top half for telekinitic pratice. As Cho rested upon the lower half with his cloak on it would often look like he was a part of the statue.

Since Subterrel Cho had become so quiet and calm in nature many had truely wondered what happened to him. His force signature wafted like the winds of Korriban. Never stable always in constant motion moving from a gale force to a quiet whisper. Cho's time on Subterrel was a changing point. He always adjusted his pressonce to what was around him to having no force signature.

On this day though Cho was not meditating, just simply resting and in a sence playing with his force sig. That is when he noticed the force sig of a being coming down and out of a ship that landed on the common pads near by. Cho walled his mind and removed any force sig from him as the being came near.

He did not look up or even move. With a single word Cho spoke a thousand.

Welcome.

Cho listened to the calming wind and waited for any action of the one comer.

[Isan]

Isan showed little surprise at the simple greeting was spoken. Instead he simply paused and gave a slight nod to the figure perched upon the stone remnants.

Isan showed little emotion at this time. He had come for a purpose and intended for it to be recognized. The Eye of Bogan about his neck shimmered in the dim light of the world as he at last turned to face the figure.

He told little of himself in his features. The lightly colored tattoos that framed his eyes and his lack of eyebrows served well to mask any sense of natural expression. Though his brow was somewhat course as he looked upon his greeter. This figure had little signature within the force by casual observance. Yet it seemed to be a concious attempt.

It seemed that perhaps this figure had something to hide. Though perhaps he did not wish to be that secretive. One who truly wished to keep a secret would not make the opening remark. No. This being seemed to be testing the limits. Perhaps seeking someone who could pry. A challenge.

Isan considered contesting his will to be shrouded. To break through his power and show him the arts which he held. Though perhaps this was not the time. No... Isan would not act. He would not reach out and show a display of his strengths. Still he allowed his senses to play over the shroud the figure drew about him. He could sense the weaknesses of the barrier surrounding his mind though he did not press a contest of wills.

"Greetings." Isan's words displayed no sign of emotion. Though his pause spoke volumes. He was indeed sizing up the figure. Analysing this new breed before him. Indeed it was gifted as it cloaked itself in the force. Though such a trick could easily be achieved with the Art of Weaving. Though he would not judge their strengths by a minor display. Isan was wiser than that. This was a new culture. A new aspect of ancient religion. He dared not assume their secrets to be light when compared to his own.

[Foxfire]

Cho Wroth could feel the strong telepathic power of the force in this one. Instead of retreating further in to his mind he allowed this one to feel the result of the battle of Subterrel upon his personna. Through the force the scent of timeless death wafted. The darkned tendrals of his force power slithered to and fro over every thing. They to had that icey death infused in them as well.

Removing his hood, which re rarely did since Subterrel, Cho showed his face. The haggered and worn face of a noghri, with eyes that were lost in time and shrouded by death.

If you seek knowledge and power you look no further. The Darth's and the OverLord are currently here just seek them out and show that you are truely worthy.

Cho let him self drift in and out of the flow of the force, shallow to the deepest parts. All the while watching the newly arrived one and how he held an old book so very tight to his chest.

[Isan]

Isan's eyes turned toward the portal of the temple. He'd already known that coming here was a step toward a life of dedication or a trip to the arms of death. If he denied their order they would undoubtedly end his life to acquire the knowledge he had brought. He only hoped the one who had brought him to this world was not being deceptive with their views.


"Knowledge can be found in many sources and power does little good without application." Isan spoke. "I seek purpose. I seek the ways of the Bogan." Isan traced his fingers along the bindings of the tomes as he returned his eyes to the figure. "I come bearing knowledge. Knowledge in reverence to the Bogan."

His eyes studied Cho as he had removed his hood. Though the eyes could divine little his senses in the force told a great deal of the one before him. "Perhaps some knowledge may help you make sense of that which haunts you." Isan's lips creased in a slight grin. "Perhaps you shall seek me out later. When you're ready to release your secrets and seek council. The Bogan caresses you and its nature is not weakness, but temper."

Isan again caressed the binding of the tomes and then simply turned from the conversation ascending the great stairs to the temple. Taking a moment to gaze upon the great entryway he at last made the step forward entering the great chamber. His eyes scanned the area as he took in the sight.

The temple of the cult was meagre when compared to even this room. Though one could not judge an order by the size of its structure. It was the merit of those who stood at the head directing ceremony and cause. It was those who judged the knowledge and compiled it accordingly. He would soon know if they were the rightful heirs of the knowledge he possessed. If they truly revered the knowledge of the ancient ones.

[Foxfire]

With ears that heard nothing but a shrill shrieking Cho watched the new comer go into the temple. Had he said some thing? He was not sure. Cho tried to focus his mind but his will was to weak and his signature in the force swirled once more. He lost his sight and control of his muscles. Hovering near the edge of being lost in the force Cho then heard a voice through the force one that he thought he would never hear again. Master Relyin his twi'lek master long dead.

Yes my pupil knowledge. He was right about that but knowledge gained through others with out effort is like being given a kill when you wanted it your self. Search the Rakata holo of yours and now see what you have missed.

Cho slammed into the floor as his sleepy legs gave way. He now laid still on the floor of his room. The meeting of the new one had been from the force and his former master to give him a direction. Power and knowledge the two fundamentals of teaching of the dark side.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Another day, another newcomer, thought the distant observer as Isan walked away and Cho fainted. Unfortunate that the Noghri had to be the first on the scene; from what he could tell, the new one had a great deal of promise, promise which was wasted on the primal, sometimes delusional Noghri fanatic. Then again the new fellow seemed to hold archaic standards; no one referred to the Force as Ashla and Bogan anymore, save for Jedi historians and archaeologists studying the ruins of Tython in the Deep Core.

Was this pale man, perhaps, such a historian? If he was, the chance was too good; the observer had to approach him.

And this is what he did. His presence already minimized with Art of the Small, he drew himself in even tighter and rose to follow the sorcerer into the Temple. As he went he scrutinized the fellow, observing the pale tattoos and the pitch black locks of hair. The books in his claw-like grasp were interesting as well; who had books anymore, hell who even made paper and parchment? The books were old, yet very well preserved; perhaps he was from some cult or other, in the backwaters of the galaxy? He gave the prostrate Cho Wroth a light kick as he passed, and a gentle telepathic nudge as well before going on up the stairs.

But enough passivity. As Isan stepped over the threshold, the observer took a more proactive approach. "Why, hello there," he said quite casually, "what brings a fellow like yourself to a place such as this?" Isan would be unable to pinpoint the source of the voice, due to the observer's use of Art of the Small but also due to the subtle distortions he created in the Force as he spoke.

Despite the apparent lack of a source for that voice, it was a soothing and companionable sort of voice. The voice of one used to speaking, to command and leadership, it had a subtle sense of unyielding iron laced throughout the silvery waves. "You're a scrawny one, though," it went on musingly, whereupon Isan would feel a distinct sense of being watched. Of being scrutinized.

But then the sense left, at the same moment as the source of the voice came into view. What few people knew was that Art of the Small was good for more than minimizing one's Force signature; one narrowed one's focus down to microscopic or even subatomic levels. From there one could rearrange matter itself to suit one's needs, but more importantly it served as a most adequate means of mundane stealth. It did not afford true invisibility, few things did; no, it simply made one vague, anonymous, so totally beneath notice that it was just as good.

Now that he was revealed, one could see a tall blond fellow with impenetrable dark glasses and a neat goatee, with a slight smile of welcome curving his pale lips. His clothes were not ostentatious in the usual sense, not of style or flair, but of purpose and functionality; trim black robes with a trace of gold thread in the seams, of simple yet sturdy cotton and leather. A thick belt held a number of weapons, more than any sane person would consider; two black lightsabers, an Echani vibrosword, a silenced slugthrower and a long-bladed dagger in a very strange sheathe.

"You show promise, stranger," he went on, putting one foot back and bowing in the classic style that no one really practiced these days. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Memnon of the Sith Empire, although you can call me Shard if it pleased you." He straightened, and regarded Isan directly, waiting for his response.

[Isan]

Isan's eyes darted about as the disembodied voice filled the chamber. Here, it seemed, to hide yourself in some way was commonplace. A temple of secrets possibly built on a foundation of lies. Isan wondered if perhaps he was drawn here on false pretences. Did this order truly pay respect to Bogan and the lesser gods? Did they truly have the reverence for the old ways or was it simply another heretic lead cult as the one he was raised in had become.

"Promise is something all may show." He ignored the previous question. If it was not asked to his face to him it did not deserve to be answered. "Even a fallen stone may show promise. It is what that promise is forged into that becomes how much value that showing has."

He'd already recognized that the one before him showed knowledge of the Art of Weaving. He recognized its manipulations easily from his days within the cult. Though Isan did not know how deeply the one before him had delved into the potential of the art. All in his cult that made it past the trial showed at least rudimentary competence in the basic applications. If they could not succeed in the challenges of the trial they were not worthy to even live in the eyes of the cult. They could not afford failed pupils to simply be cast out and allowed to leave with the secrets of Bogan. Already he had met one that, in the eyes of the cult, would have been better suited as sacrifice. However this was a new world. A different religion. It was not Isan's place to pass judgement on those accepted into this order. Perhaps they knew something of the ways of Bogan that Isan did not. The texts he held in his hand, after all, were not a complete record. They even alluded to greater secrets and the malleability of Bogan based upon the needs.

Isan studied the man before him. The one who refered to himself as a lord. He was not Isan's lord. Isan had no lord except the Bogan. With the high priest of the cult, who had been Isan's long time mentor, slain at the hands of a usurper to the role Isan held no creature in high regard. Perhaps in time this would change. Though he knew now, as he came, he was more important to them than they were to him. To Isan's perception he held all the cards. Save the one where he was now in their territory and he was greatly outnumbered.


Isan recognized the bow as a greeting. One that was often used by nobles as a signal of respect to each other. The man had showed knowledge in the Art of Weaving and for that Isan looked to him as an equal. Isan responded to the formal greeting in kind showing him the more complex greeting of the cultists.

Isan bent his right knee as he leaned forward. His right hand clasped the tomes as he raised his left hand before him presenting his palm with the outstretched fingers facing to the right. With a smooth motion he rotated his hand so his fingers pointed upward and with a slow and steady motion he clasped his fingers shut before drawing the now closed hand toward his forehead. Finally he closed with a slow nod toward the proclaimed lord before raising his posture again to stand before him.

Isan knew the one before him would at least recognize the gesture as a show of respect. As much as he held for one that would approach with a hidden presence as if to boast his power.

"I am Isan. Once regarded as future priest until my order fell into the hands of a heretic." Isan's fingers traced over the bindings of the tomes. "So I reclaimed their knowledge. Rescued it from the hands of the unworthy." Isan's brow tightened as he regarded the one before him. "How do you regard the Bogan?"

[Karl the Unfettered]

"The Bogan," Shard replied, "the opposing force to the Ashla. A dark and mystical source of power that can lead to fantastic personal skill and ability, at the cost of one's sanity or even his life if not properly controlled. In this order we chiefly refer to them as the Dark Side and the Light Side, respectively, since the terms you are familiar with are regarded as outdated or archaic by those who study history. This order, of course, being the Sith Empire.

"In almost everything we do, we oppose the Jedi and the Galactic Republic. The Jedi embody the Ashla, or the Light Side; they are slaves to the Republic, tied to that ancient, laboring body like a dog to his cancerous, wasted master. When we are not consumed by this eternal conflict we occupy ourselves with our own personal betterment and the expansion of our skills, as well as the ever-increasing might of our Empire."

Here he paused, and Isan would feel the Miraluka's hot, eyeless gaze crawling over his face. "Your coming here could be a sign of any number of things: curiosity, a desire to join and share your knowledge while learning from us, or a thirst to destroy and backstab in the name of some ideal of purity and self-righteousness. If it is this last, turn back now; we have no patience for upstart megalomaniacs who cannot see past their nose."

His voice had taken on a rigid, icy tone of warning at this last sentence, but reverted to its previous tone of welcome as he went on speaking. "However, if you are not going to be foolish, and if you have something to offer us in exchange for what we can offer you, why, I believe an arrangement can be reached." He spread his hands slightly. "So! If you have anything to offer, now would be the time to elaborate. Those books, I presume?" Again he marveled at the idea of books, but kept these thoughts well to himself.

[Isan]

"The Bogan is the creative force of the universe. It is that which promotes evolution and brings about new life. There is nothing dark about it. Once you understand that power of change that the Bogan may bring about then perhaps your weaving can become more profound. It is not through control that you achieve true power within the flow of bogan. It is when you understand it. Perhaps this desire to control the wild energies is what causes madness in the unfortunate mind." Isan evaluated the one that stood before him. He was gifted, yet seemed too focused on control. That focus made him dangerous.

"The Ashla, however, is the stagnant force of the universe. If you support such an aspect and seek to further its ends you inhibit the nature of all existence. It destroys the natural cycle. These Jedi must be stopped if things are to be right."

"I do not seek to destroy your order." Isan responded to the threats. "Even when focused on change of evolution order is needed. It was from a usurper and destroyer of order that I left my fellows and reclaimed the knowledge. We fed on the bogan. Nursed at the teat of the power. We were taught to understand it. Never have we fallen to madness. This knowledge I bring is our ways. The way to greater power than grasping at reigns. It is the way of service. This...," Isan traced his fingers along the bindings of the tomes, "is religion."

[Foxfire]

Knowledge and strength were both aspects of gaining greater power, but power was not what he needed now. Since Subterrel and his enhanced force break-down he had little control of his mind and strength of his power. This new one might have an answer that the Lords have yet to give him.

Tracing the foot steps of the new one was not hard for they were followed by and familiar sig in the force, Shard. The only one at the temple that showed to Cho that was worthy to follow. Besides Shard had dragged him off of Subterrel when he fell into a short term coma due to the enhanced force break-down. Cho would have died or been taken by the Jedi.

Cho found then talking to each other. He came upon them as they were mentioning the knowledge held with in the old books that the one now known as Isan still clutched with every fiber of his being. As Cho took another step forward Cho started to shake and shudder. Again he was forced to make a force bubble to stop the shaking, but as soon as he did the high pitched shrieking slowly rose in his ears.

He had to quickly move away from the two so that none would be hurt by what next was to come. Things started to lift and circle around him. He had but a few minutes before the final stages of this fits of his. He had to speak.

Knowledge and power are of great benefits to many that are truly worthy. But when you encounter the unknown how will you act. All that knowledge, all that power becomes nothing to the endless expanse of the force. I suffer because I desired greater power and knowledge.

But LOOK AT ME!!!! ..... None here have been able to help nor do they. The darkness takes and kills all that it wants. I maybe next but I will face it as a believer and a warrior. What I am going through must have a reason. My strength and time are consumed with controlling these fits, other wise I would search out knowledge that would give me peace. Weak these fit make me look but with every set of fits the destruction grows stronger and stronger, and now nears another. ... .... Ffffooorgive me I must go. The final stage of the fits are upon me.

Diving into a near by room Cho started to shake even more. Now he wobbled back and forth as item in the room lifted and swirled with greater speed and with and explosion the hatch slammed shut as force lighting exploded from his body. Like a static ball the lighting played over every thing shorting out any thing electrical. When it came to an end Cho slowly made his way back to open the hatch only to find it sealed by the force lighting. Rage quickly built up with in him Cho could feel it go beyond what his was normal strength was. With a flick of his wrist the hatch came unhinged and flew across the room behind him to be lodged in the stone wall.

With eyes holding back the storm of force power Cho could only say..... Well.

[Isan]

Isan had turned as Cho had entered and began to speak. He could feel the building surge within him. Now he knew why he had seemed so distant when he first encountered him near the entrance.

Cho's words only verified Isan's suspicions. He was holding back something he did not understand. He could feel the fear and range building within the noghri. The Bogan stirred there. Exercising its will in the ways it knew.

Isan stood silently as Cho retreated and let the destructive waves lash out. The sounds that emitted from behind the closed doors were as music to Isan's ears. The crushing sound of metal into stone. The shattering of more delicate objects as they were hurled into solid pieces. All the sound, however, could not compare to the feeling of the bogan as it swept out through the area.

As Cho again emerged Isan stood with the tomes before him. "You seek an explanation for what you seem to have accepted as your nature. You are experiencing evolution. The Bogan stirs within you. You struggle to understand it and why it ravages you in such a way. Perhaps that is not the way. Perhaps you should strive to understand yourself and why you allow it to ravage you so. You can not control the Bogan any more than a child can control its mother's will. Once you baptise yourself in its ways you are among its children. As such you can influence its will, but in the in its will is its own and it will shape you into what it expects of you. To struggle against this will only bring your own destruction. To embrace its desires and to shape yourself into the image it expects of you brings to you power and through that shaping of yourself you truly understand."

Isan glanced back to Shard for a moment before finishing his thought. "Knowledge is easy to come by. In understanding is where the true power lies."

Isan looked between Cho and Shard for a moment. His dark hair serving almost as its own shroud. "Now. If here you seek understanding we are among the same breed. No matter if our names may vary for what we serve. At its heart it is the same. However," Isan looked toward Shard, "these tomes are not for the casual practitioner or even a studied priest. What is held within these texts I shall deliver only to the one that sits in the highest esteem of your order. It is they who shall judge the worthiness of these texts and judge my place. I come alone and without aggressive stance into a den of serpents. In that you should know my intentions are sincere."

[Karl the Unfettered]

Religion, Shard mused. That was an interesting word, a very interesting word; many claimed religion, but in the Miraluka's experience it was often little more than an excuse for bored old men or women to lie and murder for the sake of controlling others. He had started one himself, once, overpowering some backwater folks on some backwater planet and claiming to be a god. It hadn't been a week before he had gotten bored, told them all they were unworthy and they needed to sacrifice themselves in ritual suicide.

The ensuing scene was amusing, as far as it went, but over far too soon.

But that was neither here nor there; he didn't need to be distracted by thoughts of carnage past, less they were overtaken by carnage present in the form of the demented Noghri Cho Wroth. "Ugh, he woke up," Shard muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I assume you two have already met?" His voice was low, and Cho would not hear the words; only Isan would. "Cho Wroth is a maniac, Isan, a bloodthirsty maniac who lives only for the kill. An extremely powerful warrior, to be certain, and intelligent in his own ways, but he has no concept of subtlety."

A brief hesitation. "I... saved his life, recently," he went on morosely. "We were recently in a battle with the Jedi, over control for Subterrel; it went badly, of course, we lost control of the place and the Sith hounds that populate its caverns. We made them pay dearly, though, and none moreso than Wroth here; when I found him, he was surrounded by scores of dead Jedi and Republic marines, unconscious from the effort of the carnage. And we are not so numerous yet that we can afford to abandon our warriors so callously.

"Now he believes himself beholden to me, which isn't such a bad thing in its own way. Then again it's not such a good thing either." He shrugged and addressed them both once again. "The highest esteem? You want Darth Iniquitous then; he is the Dark Lord, and he leads the Sith Empire here." He waved at the Temple about them, and everything it represented. "He is surprisingly young; do not let that fool you, he commands our allegiance for very good reasons. He is a man of power, of vision, and if anyone would know what to do with these texts of yours, it would be him.

"The only problem is, I'm not certain he's present at the moment." He shrugged. "He is very secretive, and adept at hiding himself from all eyes, even mine. But as I said, I command some position and authority here, so if Iniquitous cannot be found I have the power to judge them in his place."

[Jenno]

Locked away in some maddening chamber within the temple, a place of no entry for anyone but himself, Darth Iniquitous stood leaning over a simple item. It was a piece of jewellery, luxurious in its manner and befitting of a Corellian King. The pockets of the Empire were deep and finely-trimmed with golden weave. This particular item had belonged to one of the five top aristocrats of the Empire, those who controlled the sleeping dragon before Iniquitous and his Sith Order had come along to take power for themselves.

But this item of historical knowledge did not even register in Iniquitous’ mind as he ‘looked’ down upon the golden pendant. The insignificance of the aristocrats had been shown quite clearly in the lack of thought that anyone paid to their demise, and that was where the Sith’s victory truly lay. But this item was the focal point of Iniquitous’ latest experiment, some would call it an exploration of his power, many may even refer to it as training but to the Dark overlord it felt as though he was experimenting. Each new item presented new possibilities and he found that he could do practically anything with this alchemy. He could bequeath extraordinary abilities to a small and solitary item by manipulating it through the force.

Even with all he had learned from his masters upon Nar Shaddaa, the hidden library on Ossus and the holocron of Darth Everos, nothing had seemed to motivate or test him as much as this power did. Every time he would try and push further into the realms of the unknown, just to see what could be accomplished. Of course, he was no great master of the art, no such person lived at this moment in time, and many of his attempts had resulted in failure, but there were select pieces he had managed to succeed with. The helmet he had on was testament to that, he rarely took it off and even when he did he would make sure he was completely alone. But he had managed to manipulate the item in a way that could prevent all sorts of vision, whether it be with one’s eyes or through the force. But at the same time it still allowed him to see through his own blindness. It was not powerful in the sense that it granted him great abilities or strengthened his connection with the force. But as a Sith, every piece of mystery he could maintain about his person meant another tool he could use.

His right hand lay over the pendant, clawed and monstrous. A wild and dark energy had collected there in the open air between his fingers. He could feel the energy of the dark side, hot and seductive and it seemed to pulse like a beating heart, as if it was a creature of its own. But soon Iniquitous was forcing this concentration of energy into the solid form of the pendant, forcing the dark side into the constraints of the small form, only a small portion trickled into the item. This was the most time consuming stage, his ability to imbue the items with the dark side was becoming easier, he was gradually able to add more and more upon each attempt, but there was still much more potential for him to unlock.

But as the power in his hand ran dry, Iniquitous became aware of an odd sensation that had entered the walls of the temple. Something was quite different about it, peculiar and intriguing to his inquisitive mind. It was not like the presence of a force user, it felt much more like one of his creations, something with a deep connection in the dark side. Perhaps comparing it to something he had created was and overestimation of his abilities in that area. Instead, it felt more like the planet of Korriban itself, something grand and old with a unique and dark sensation.

He could no longer resist the temptation of the darkness. He left his experiment and made his way out of his own private area of the temple in pursuit of the intellectual intrigue which seemed to have grasped him by the hand. He passed a few robed initiates on his way to the front of the temple, where the source was situated. He had not long returned to the temple and still he felt that their numbers were far from sufficient if they were to fuel a serious war effort. Every day more Jedi would join the Blades, meaning they would need even more Sith. He had a few plans that he was prepared to carry out in order to increase the number of their students and at the same time improve the standing of the Empire in the Outer Rim where many potential allies remained uncertain of this new power.

He could feel the presence of the one who carried this dark energy much more clearly as he neared and he could also sense another much more familiar person, one the Sith Lords, Lord Memnon, it seems the two were already conversing as Iniquitous neared. He made no attempt to hide himself upon approach, though courtesy dictated that Iniquitous wait for a break in their conversation before he made his final descent. “Lord Memnon, I’m pleased to see you’re taking an interest in those who walk through our doors, an inspiring trait for someone with your position and rank.” He turned to the thin and ghastly figure before him, “I believe you are new to these halls, I have not frequented them myself as of late but I do not recall you. I am Darth Iniquitous, Overlord of the Sith Order. Usually there are others who greet the new arrivals to our temple before I have the chance, like Lord Memnon. But the item you carry, it stood out amongst the force, much like a stranger upon a new world. It feels old and wrapped in the dark side. Where did you acquire such an item, few items with this presence exist in our time.” Iniquitous spoke with his usual calm tone, with almost a murmur of power hidden beneath the words as he spoke to this new dark and powerful presence.

[Foxfire]

As Cho was going to respond to Isan's words he felt the Over lord's pressonce moving closer. Obvously the power of the Tomes was drawing him near, even Cho felt it's call. But with the Overlord coming his needs would be shoved aside once again.

As if on cue the Overlord in his supreme way walked into the room and took over the conversation. Cho need not say anything for now none paid him any mind for all eyes and ears were on the Overlord and being influeanced by his power of pressonce.

Cho slowly stalked out of the room and down the hall minding his pressonce in the force. Once he was out side he once again opened himself to the flow of the force.

(Occ-Exit Cho Wroth)

[Isan]

The conversation broke and another spoke their mind. The one whom was referenced mere moments before. His very presence drove Cho from them and Isan turned to face the figure in response to the reactions of the others.

If there was any doubt toward the value of what Isan brought to this temple it was now dismissed with the drawn curiosity of the overlord and Isan held the tomes before him in offering. "To your cause I bring knowledge. I come from Vjun to these halls with these liberated texts. Words from the old gods are held there. Those who delved deeply into the ways of the bogan and shaped their line into its very image. I come from this line, though now it has fallen to a new idea. Too easily my cousins turned to the new methods. Forgetting our traditions. Forgetting what our ancestors deemed as our path. They are no longer worthy of these tomes. I came to see if worthy hands resided here. If the knowledge may serve its true purpose and if I may fulfil my destiny as revealed to me by my trials. I see now..." Isan looked about the temple and to Shard and then to Iniquitous, "there is worthiness here."

Isan held forth the tomes presenting them in offering to Iniquitous. "I know now that to deliver these texts into your hands is fulfilling that destiny. That the knowledge may serve to spread the ways of the Bogan. To strengthen its influence throughout the stars. Even if I am not judged as worthy of your order I know that these tomes are now in their proper hands. Though I feel within this place a new home. Old gods rest here and in their slumber their souls influence all that pass through here. Even in silence their will is that of the Bogan and the Bogan's will is my own. Your Sith Order shall be the vessel that the stars will once again become aware of its call and great change is on the horizon. My understanding of the deeper secrets of the tome is limited, though by your very presence I sense the key to unlocking them. May their contents go beyond simple ritual and once again become function. May the Bogan once again change the face of the stars and stagnation give way to evolution."

Isan's posture raised after he had gifted the tomes to the rightful hands. The Eye of Bogan about his neck hang as a testament to the powers within the tome. Though not infused with a great alchemy the method of its creation infused it with dark energies by a similar means. It was attuned to Isan and held the dark power from which his was born. It was crafted from Vjun itself and its very existence proved that there was still some arts that were not totally forgotten to the ages. The Art of Weaving that the cult practised often delved into the realm of alchemy, if only slightly. Altering substances to strengthen their presence in the force to create a channel for the darkside that they refered to as bogan. Though they fell short of great feats it was but a stone throw from a new world of knowledge and Isan had seen the potential. Now before him stood one who had unlocked the depths of power that Isan had worked hard to open. Through Iniquitous Isan may yet learn to spread the power of bogan through the stars. To infuse into many worlds the dark power and do away with the stagnant ashla that sought to undo the glorious change the bogan represented.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Things had a way of working out after all; no sooner had Shard formally offered his attention than Iniquitous himself appeared, driving Wroth away and speaking to them both that remained. "Of course, my Lord," Shard replied with a bow. He listened as Isan described his mission once again, and silently approved of how he overlooked the Dark Lord's relative age in dealing with him; too many had judged him because of that, and paid dearly for it. Shard himself had nearly made such a mistake his very first day on Korriban, offhandedly remarking on Iniquitous' youth.

"If I may, my Lord," the Miraluka began formally, stepping forward again. "I believe Goma here would make a worthy addition to our ranks. He brings knowledge with him, but I'm sure we both sense he is a man of great personal ability himself. A simple test of skill would easily determine that beyond doubt, and with his voice in this Temple we will be that much stronger." He was not sucking up, though with the thick glasses he wore it was hard to tell; even without them, he had no eyes with which to be read, though he wore them anyway not only out of racial habit but to confuse others. Unless he took them off, it was impossible to determine he was a Miraluka at all.

No, he meant every word, and a small smile formed as he turned his gaze on Isan again. "You are to be further commended in the humility you have shown; too often, a prospective student of our ways believes himself empowered, and comes to us with arrogance and selfish desires in his heart. As I said, though, a simple test of your power, a brief contest, should serve as the seal on your joining.

"Then again, if Iniquitous is satisfied with things as they are now, no test will be necessary," and he deferred to the Dark Lord once again. "My recommendation still stands, however." Privately he still thought Isan held archaic and outmoded ideas, but with time he would adapt. And if not, well, ideas were meant for sharing, were they not? Besides, he had no illusions of controlling anything around here.

[Jenno]

As the three of them stood there amongst the silent, observing walls of the temple, Iniquitous felt as though they could have flagged up any philosophical, spiritual or political issue which plagued the galaxy and debated it for hours upon hours like calm and civil intellectuals. Something about the atmosphere that glided around them suggest a sense of dignity, composure and a mutual respect for one another. It was something that the Dark Overlord didn’t often witness within these walls. Too many were letting the path to power control their actions and in turn blindly sacrificed themselves. He would have to be more vigorous with his lessons, open their eyes and show them the light of day. But currently the sight of these spawn of the dark side communicating and behaving like regular civil people may have very well confused a Jedi. Not quite the monsters they’d been warned about.

But given the state of affairs, issues such as this meeting had to be dealt with fairly swiftly so that each of them may progress down some other path. Iniquitous had heard of a group of force users upon the planet of Vjun, though it was not entirely an issue that he had been given time to deal with yet. Perhaps if there were others who possessed a connection to the force like the man before him then they would be worthy to recruit into the order. But if they were as incompetent as Isan made them out to be, well, then another fate would await them.

“Thank you for this,” he said the new arrival that stood before him as he reached out to accept the offering. As he touched the tomes he could feel their dark radiance, it was much more prominent with the addition of physical touch, even through the gloves that the Dark Overlord wore. “This temple you stand within and the order that is growing here are both new. The secrets of the Sith that were here before us were stolen or lost to time and initially our archives were as barren as this planet. Producing material to fill it is an ongoing task of mine as the Overlord and your contribution is a great help to us all. So once again I must thank you and in turn, welcome you to this order.” He bowed his head slightly to display his thanks and respect for Isan’s ability to see beyond himself.

Lord Memnon had raised an issue. This was the order of the Sith and many paid more respect to other members based on their power. Perhaps in older generations such a test would have been deemed compulsory, but Iniquitous didn’t truly believe in such displays of power being absolute or entirely necessary. He responded to the issue as naturally as one would expect. “I do not believe that a test of ability is necessary as that is not something I do to recruit new members to this order. All are welcome if they are willing to learn and contribute. However,” he paused for a moment, “a brief match could serve as an excellent way for you to experience what there is to learn here.” He said to Isan. After all, he was not just a stranger to them; they were also strangers to him.

“Lord Memnon,” Iniquitous continued onwards, addressing the Sith Lord by his recently acquired name and title, and using it quite comfortably in the process, “if you would be willing to represent the order in a small match to see what power these teachings of Bogan could hold in store for us that would be most appreciated.” It was a chance for both to learn something and Iniquitous thought that both of the men before him seemed the types who were able and willing to learn when a chance presented itself. The Dark Overlord stood quietly, awaiting upon their decisions, these new tomes lying in his grasp for the time being, waiting to be absorbed into the archives when Iniquitous got around to continuing the revival of knowledge within the temple’s halls. And then the knowledge would expand, beyond the walls of this construct, beyond the small moon of Korriban and beyond the territories of the Sith Empire until that knowledge held the entire galaxy in its grasp. Yes, knowledge is power.

[Isan]

Isan gave a bow of courtesy to the departing Dark Overlord and then turned his attention to the one who was now confirmed to be a Lord. "Indeed I have come here to learn and to better serve that which shall better spread the influence of the Bogan. What sort of test would you wish to present upon me? You seek a contest, but in which form? I recognize you have some knowledge of the art of weaving. Perhaps your interest is in how deeply my aptitude with the art may reach. I admit that if you hope for a contest of arms that you will find my skill lacking. My studies delve into more the philosophical envisionment of the Bogan and the work to force about the evolution characteristic of the energies representative of the ideal. Though when one has such knowledge and understanding a strong arm is nothing to a sharp mind. So whatever you may present I am confident I will not disappoint."

Isan hooked his fingers and lifted them to his chin. He had spoken the acceptance of the challenge and drew the energies of the Bogan close to him as he heightened his senses to its flow. He did not know if this Lord Memnon would actually tell him when the contest were to begin. He wasn't even sure it had not already.

[Karl the Unfettered]

"Of course, my Lord," Shard replied, bowing to Iniquitous before facing Isan. At the man's admission of having little talent in force of arms, he nodded. "I gathered as much. You do not have the appearance of a physical person; your arms are thin, your hands smooth. In time it may serve you to construct a lightsaber and learn at least the basics; the lightsaber is a symbol of our order, and that of the Jedi, serving to elevate us above the common masses. Being able to use one is also a sure sign of personal skill, although not everyone values such open displays." He himself reveled in combat of all sorts, though he did not, at the moment, have any intention of forcing Isan into something he couldn't do; this was a test of his strength, not Shard's.

"In any event, this hallway will not serve for a proper test, and Lord Iniquitous would not appreciate our defacing the Temple. If you would come with me, there are larger halls dedicated to training, and to contests of strength; ours is a contentious order, you understand. Lord Iniquitous, you are of course welcome to observe and judge, if you see fit." He turned, indicating Isan should follow, and started down the hall toward one of the above-mentioned training halls.

The chamber in question was large, wide and open, with obstacle courses along the walls and pillars situated throughout as much to provide cover and maneuvering planes as to hold up the vaulted ceiling. Naturally the center was empty, flat and level; perfect for an even struggle. "Here we are," the Miraluka went on, indicating the hall with a flourish of his hand. "We focus on all aspects of training, not just mental and philosophical; many of our members value brute strength, or stealth and agility, over raw command of the Force, and we encourage a broad skillset in any event. The Jedi are just as committed as we are, sometimes more so, and we cannot afford to relax our guard."

He strode to the center and stood at one end of a painted circle, indicating Isan should stand at the other end. "Now, no more words. As you requested, this shall not be a physical contest of arms, but a test of mental power and spiritual ability. We shall duel until I or Iniquitous have determined your ability, and then it will be up to him." Memnon bowed, and stepped back into a defensive stance. "Your move, Isan Goma."