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OOM: Masks
Jul. 6th, 2017 01:01 am(OOC: Lines in italics are taken from/adapted from canon.)
Ibani lies in her bunk on her ship, thinking. For once in her life, she's not sure she adequately explained something to someone that DOESN'T involve the Force. Rylee and Destris had been mystified by her knee-jerk reaction to their suggestion to just dump Paladius' body somewhere. "That's just not done!"
How do you begin to explain a cultural norm that you've never stopped to think about? A Sith not taking care of the body of another Sith when it is well within their power to do so is just Not Done. Taboo, perhaps, but that's not quite right either.
The failures, those are the ones whose bodies are left for the wild animals or fed to beasts. That was Korriban's open secret, that those who failed to become Sith would have no burial. She remembers holding the skull of a failed acolyte during the Rite of Blood and Bone, dipping it in blood as an augury for her future. For that matter, any Imperial citizen would expect someone to retrieve their body for cremation or burial. Only animals or slaves have their bodies abandoned like rubbish.
Sith have built tombs for their fallen enemies, elaborate ones, they do not just abandon an adversary to be forgotten even, perhaps especially, if they hate them.
*******************************************************************************************
She's sleeping fitfully when she feels the presence of another Force User in the room. She throws a fatal blast of Force lightning at the presence before she's even moved from where she lies. The ghost of Lord Kallig stands there unharmed, perhaps even slightly amused. The wall did not fare so well, the paint thoroughly blistered and the wall warped from the heat and electrical current.
Ibani scowls at her ghostly ancestor. "Given your current condition, I KNOW it wouldn't have killed you to knock. That wall was just painted."
"Flesh of my flesh. Listen to me. I cannot linger long. It takes too much out of me to appear here. But I must warn you."
"Warn me of what?" Ibani asks, mood sour. She has a NAME, thank you.
"Your Master, Darth Zash, is plotting something. Whatever it is can mean nothing good for you."
Ibani stares at the ghost incredulously. "THAT'S what you came all this way to tell me. Of course she's plotting something, she's still alive. And I figured that her plans were not in my best interest MONTHS ago."
Ibani senses considerable irritation from Lord Kallig. Good! "I have seen Zash making her preparations. She's taken two new apprentices, a boy named Kaal and a girl named Corrin. She's been sending them into the Dark Temple - presumably to confirm that I am gone."
Ibani draws a hissing intake of breath. New apprentices... that seems unlike Darth Zash, considering how many years she spent searching for her first apprentice. Unless she knows she's going to need a replacement soon, or needs tasks done that she doesn't want Ibani knowing about. Either is not good news. "Well, that does bode," she admits, reluctantly. "Have you seen Zash herself in the tomb?"
Lord Kallig nods. "She comes every day now, studying the place and performing rituals."
Ibani raises an eyebrow. "What kind of rituals?"
"Minor ones. Preparations for something bigger."
"Any suggestions as to means to combat whatever it is she's planning?"
"An enterprising Sith Lord on Korriban has uncovered a piece of my old armor, my mask. It will protect you against Zash's onslaught. Go. Claim it."
Then the Force ghost fades out of existence and his Force presence vanishes. "I'm real tired of getting orders, but extra protection is nothing to scoff at." She sighs. "Korriban, just about the last place I ever wanted to see again. Still, I'll manage."
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Stealth is an often underestimated skill, Ibani feels. Why in the galaxy would she go in and fight through all the guards and confront the Sith and his apprentices when everyone had to sleep sometimes?
Ibani turns the mask over and over in her hands, studying its physical appearance and its 'feel' in the Force. There is power in it, something more than mere metal. Could she make something like this, one day? She shakes her head, puts the mask safely away. Speculation can wait, she has an amulet to deliver to Darth Zash and most likely orders to find yet another artifact.
Ibani lies in her bunk on her ship, thinking. For once in her life, she's not sure she adequately explained something to someone that DOESN'T involve the Force. Rylee and Destris had been mystified by her knee-jerk reaction to their suggestion to just dump Paladius' body somewhere. "That's just not done!"
How do you begin to explain a cultural norm that you've never stopped to think about? A Sith not taking care of the body of another Sith when it is well within their power to do so is just Not Done. Taboo, perhaps, but that's not quite right either.
The failures, those are the ones whose bodies are left for the wild animals or fed to beasts. That was Korriban's open secret, that those who failed to become Sith would have no burial. She remembers holding the skull of a failed acolyte during the Rite of Blood and Bone, dipping it in blood as an augury for her future. For that matter, any Imperial citizen would expect someone to retrieve their body for cremation or burial. Only animals or slaves have their bodies abandoned like rubbish.
Sith have built tombs for their fallen enemies, elaborate ones, they do not just abandon an adversary to be forgotten even, perhaps especially, if they hate them.
*******************************************************************************************
She's sleeping fitfully when she feels the presence of another Force User in the room. She throws a fatal blast of Force lightning at the presence before she's even moved from where she lies. The ghost of Lord Kallig stands there unharmed, perhaps even slightly amused. The wall did not fare so well, the paint thoroughly blistered and the wall warped from the heat and electrical current.
Ibani scowls at her ghostly ancestor. "Given your current condition, I KNOW it wouldn't have killed you to knock. That wall was just painted."
"Flesh of my flesh. Listen to me. I cannot linger long. It takes too much out of me to appear here. But I must warn you."
"Warn me of what?" Ibani asks, mood sour. She has a NAME, thank you.
"Your Master, Darth Zash, is plotting something. Whatever it is can mean nothing good for you."
Ibani stares at the ghost incredulously. "THAT'S what you came all this way to tell me. Of course she's plotting something, she's still alive. And I figured that her plans were not in my best interest MONTHS ago."
Ibani senses considerable irritation from Lord Kallig. Good! "I have seen Zash making her preparations. She's taken two new apprentices, a boy named Kaal and a girl named Corrin. She's been sending them into the Dark Temple - presumably to confirm that I am gone."
Ibani draws a hissing intake of breath. New apprentices... that seems unlike Darth Zash, considering how many years she spent searching for her first apprentice. Unless she knows she's going to need a replacement soon, or needs tasks done that she doesn't want Ibani knowing about. Either is not good news. "Well, that does bode," she admits, reluctantly. "Have you seen Zash herself in the tomb?"
Lord Kallig nods. "She comes every day now, studying the place and performing rituals."
Ibani raises an eyebrow. "What kind of rituals?"
"Minor ones. Preparations for something bigger."
"Any suggestions as to means to combat whatever it is she's planning?"
"An enterprising Sith Lord on Korriban has uncovered a piece of my old armor, my mask. It will protect you against Zash's onslaught. Go. Claim it."
Then the Force ghost fades out of existence and his Force presence vanishes. "I'm real tired of getting orders, but extra protection is nothing to scoff at." She sighs. "Korriban, just about the last place I ever wanted to see again. Still, I'll manage."
************************************************************************************************
Stealth is an often underestimated skill, Ibani feels. Why in the galaxy would she go in and fight through all the guards and confront the Sith and his apprentices when everyone had to sleep sometimes?
Ibani turns the mask over and over in her hands, studying its physical appearance and its 'feel' in the Force. There is power in it, something more than mere metal. Could she make something like this, one day? She shakes her head, puts the mask safely away. Speculation can wait, she has an amulet to deliver to Darth Zash and most likely orders to find yet another artifact.
