StarLion
14-01-2007 22:17:04
(This is an open RP. Anyone may participate, and there is no 'fixed' storyline, however:
1. The story begins on Tarthos. If you're not from HMR, you'd probably need a reason to be there.
2. Do not godmode other people. That means you dont make up what they say, what they do, how they react, etc. If someone disappears for a week or more, go move on with someone else. Use this as an exercise in good Roleplaying.
)
-Tarthos, Orian System-
-2 days after the return of the House following the events in the Phare System (post-Feud)-
The house was returning to their normal activities. The fracas in the Phare system was over; they had recovered their objective. At least... one of them.
Two days after their return; a ship approached. It approached silently, and cloaked behind the Stygian Cloaking Device implanted in it. If it had been visible, it would have been shot down instantly; it still bore the markings of the Emperor's Hammer on it's side. What could not be hidden by the device however was the presence of the one inside. To some, his was a familiar feel; to others, an absolute stranger.
The craft slipped easily into Tarthos' atmosphere. Still the pilot chose to make no contact with those below. Slowly the cathedral came to view, bright swirls of color in the sight of the pilot. A small smile spread across his toothy maw. An excellant duplication of a home once destroyed, he thought to himself. A cathedral he had not seen in some years. Some there be whom shadows kiss...the oft-recited motto of the group. ...and others whom are embraced within.
Settling down onto the fringes of the docking platform, the Stygian device was finally deactivated, and the craft was revealed to view of any who may have come curious. After a few moments stillness, the cooling of engines and powering down of systems the only noise coming from the craft, it's boarding hatch opened, and out from the craft floated a Dark Jedi.
Lifted up by a form of Telekinesis, the Priest rose. His robes were long, the formal robes of his order from the time before the Exodus. The hood, normally down on one of his rank, was over his head, obscuring his eyes from view and leaving the impression that he could not possibly see out from underneath it. The white fur of the Cathar male stood out against the blackness of the robes, a stark contrast, as was the similarly colored lightsaber that hung from his sash.
Slowly the Krath settled himself to the metal floor, giving sense of just how big he was... standing nearly 7' tall, one could wonder how he managed to fit inside the TIE Phantom behind him. Settling down a moment after his feet was the end of a thickened staff, and those trained enough to do so could sense a vague power from within it; similarly, a cold sense of power came from the pouch tied at his hip.
The Cathar's mouth opened, speaking both out loud, and through the Force, a deep, growling sort of voice natural to his kind. "I seek... the Quaestor of this House."
1. The story begins on Tarthos. If you're not from HMR, you'd probably need a reason to be there.
2. Do not godmode other people. That means you dont make up what they say, what they do, how they react, etc. If someone disappears for a week or more, go move on with someone else. Use this as an exercise in good Roleplaying.
) -Tarthos, Orian System-
-2 days after the return of the House following the events in the Phare System (post-Feud)-
The house was returning to their normal activities. The fracas in the Phare system was over; they had recovered their objective. At least... one of them.
Two days after their return; a ship approached. It approached silently, and cloaked behind the Stygian Cloaking Device implanted in it. If it had been visible, it would have been shot down instantly; it still bore the markings of the Emperor's Hammer on it's side. What could not be hidden by the device however was the presence of the one inside. To some, his was a familiar feel; to others, an absolute stranger.
The craft slipped easily into Tarthos' atmosphere. Still the pilot chose to make no contact with those below. Slowly the cathedral came to view, bright swirls of color in the sight of the pilot. A small smile spread across his toothy maw. An excellant duplication of a home once destroyed, he thought to himself. A cathedral he had not seen in some years. Some there be whom shadows kiss...the oft-recited motto of the group. ...and others whom are embraced within.
Settling down onto the fringes of the docking platform, the Stygian device was finally deactivated, and the craft was revealed to view of any who may have come curious. After a few moments stillness, the cooling of engines and powering down of systems the only noise coming from the craft, it's boarding hatch opened, and out from the craft floated a Dark Jedi.
Lifted up by a form of Telekinesis, the Priest rose. His robes were long, the formal robes of his order from the time before the Exodus. The hood, normally down on one of his rank, was over his head, obscuring his eyes from view and leaving the impression that he could not possibly see out from underneath it. The white fur of the Cathar male stood out against the blackness of the robes, a stark contrast, as was the similarly colored lightsaber that hung from his sash.
Slowly the Krath settled himself to the metal floor, giving sense of just how big he was... standing nearly 7' tall, one could wonder how he managed to fit inside the TIE Phantom behind him. Settling down a moment after his feet was the end of a thickened staff, and those trained enough to do so could sense a vague power from within it; similarly, a cold sense of power came from the pouch tied at his hip.
The Cathar's mouth opened, speaking both out loud, and through the Force, a deep, growling sort of voice natural to his kind. "I seek... the Quaestor of this House."