Exodus

[Oncaro]

[OPENING POST THEME]​

In the vast void of space, a small convoy of starships moved like a small procession of ants across an endless ocean of stars. It was a mere handful of ships, eight in all. Seven of those ships were large, though unremarkable transports. It was in the frontmost of those transports, in a small, makeshift chapel hastily put together before this convoy began their journey, that a lone figure knelt before an altar after having sat quietly in an empty pew for hours, thinking.

The figure was a woman, clad in a fine green dress that went quite well with her long red hair and green eyes, the neckline leaving the tops of her breasts partially exposed while the hemline reached her ankles. Her hands were clasped in prayer as she spoke toward a statue at the altar, carved from fine wood, which depicted a tall, wizened man with a long beard and a stern, though fair gaze, arms outstretched.

"Holy Father, I pray that You would give me guidance in these troubled times," she said, her tone soft. "That You would grant me the strength and wisdom needed to keep my people safe on this dangerous journey we have undertaken. I ask You to bless the weak, the sick, the old, the infants, that they might be able to live and see a new world, a new home, after Your wayward Son brought so much destruction upon our old life."

Helin Tyris looked up toward the statue. Her gaze was set, but still one of pleading.

"Lord Maker, I ask that You watch over us, guide us to safety and prosperity, so that Your holy name be not lost to time and forgotten. Show us the way, Lord... I beg of you."

She lowered her gaze, clasping her hands tightly.

"In the name of the Maker, the Father, and the Holy Force... Amen."

She knelt there in silent contemplation, before standing, her green, silk slippers silent in the metal floor. A frown crossed her beautiful face.

Most of the Knights belonging to the Holy Order of the Paladins of Mortis had remained on the flagship carrier that headed their fleet, the Redeemer. Helin, though she was the current Grand Master, had decided to visit one of the transports, to see the majority of the common folk which resided on those ships, having been nudged along by the Force to do so. She didn't mind; as proud a woman as she was, mingling with the lowborns, the peasants and serfs alike helped keep her grounded and aware of their needs, and they treated her well in return for this.

Helin heaved a sigh, and turned, walking toward the chapel's entrance. There she found a man as tall as her, but with a great scar blemishing his appearance.

Oh, Sol...

Solaire Thyria had been Helin's companion, trainer, and arguably her closest friend and confidant for nearly twenty years, since she was about six years old. He knew her like few ever did, and that was quite a feat for a lowborn in the service of one of the oldest and richest families of Nihir, and the entire Church of Mortis. And here he was, standing guard, like the Galaxy's most loyal dog.

"I thought I said you were relieved of duty for tonight, Sol," Helin said, though there was no anger in her tone. "You could have at least come in and prayed with me. You know that, right? Twenty years and you are still too shy to sit with me?"

Amusement, now, in her voice, as she gave a tiny smile. She was joking, but she had to admit, solitude in prayer wasn't usually her thing.

Spoiler

@TheCalmOne
@Chask274
@Captain Hook
@Tristar
@Sivaprasad

 

[Billbo Swaggins]

Leaning against a wall near the back of the chapel, Solaire Thyria watched the kneeling figure of Helin Tyris pray. He had never really been a religious person, his father never put much emphasis on the Church of Mortis, instead emphasizing that his attention and beliefs should be instead focused on protecting his liege lord and master. In addition, he had never been inducted into the Church, either as a priest or a knight, and thus didn't have a chance to be 'educated' in the Church's train of thought.

Still, he prayed every 7th day, attending services alongside Helin and showing his piety to the Father.

Helin stood up and turned towards him. He had been by her side for about as long as she had been alive, and despite their differences in rank, had gotten to know her well over the course of two and a half decades. He could tell she was troubled, the burden of ruling the remnants of her people weighed heavily upon Solaire's friend. Solaire straightened up and put his helmet back on.

He grunted before responding to Helin after she spoke,
"You know I don't pray as much as you do, and it's not shyness, Father be with me. It's just that my duty comes first."

His duty. Not only did Solaire have to protect Helin as her Master-at-Arms, but ever since she assumed leadership of the Church, he also felt it his duty to be her friend - no - to be the person she could turn to when she couldn't turn to anyone else. Father knows she needs it in these dark times.

As the two of them walked down the corridor, he spoke up in a light-hearted tone,
"I'm pretty sure we have an opening in your agenda tonight, how about we spar a bit? Maybe you'll be able to beat me this time."

Of course, Solaire could never actually beat Helin if she used the force, as he had almost no connection with it, but when it came to swordplay, the roles were reversed.

OOC: OOH YEAH BABY LETS GET THIS PARTY STARTED

 

[Oncaro]

"Solaire Thyria, you are perhaps the one man outside of my family that would say the words 'we have an opening in your agenda tonight' and then follow it up with 'How about we spar a bit?' and be completely serious about it," Helin replied, smiling slightly in amusement and shaking her head as they stepped through the transport's corridors.

"In all seriousness, perhaps a spar will do me some good. Whipping you is quite a stress reliever, let me tell you."

This moment of levity passed, however, as they crossed a large room with a number of passengers, nearly all of them former serfs or peasants of various holdings across Nihir. Still others were freemen and burghers; freemen who were wealthier than peasants, but lacked aristocratic titles. Helin frowned again as she looked to them all, and one group in particular caught her eye: A disheveled woman, likely a mother, cradling what looked to be her young daughter, only a few years old at the most, who didn't appear well.

Without hesitation, Helin strode over to the two, and the woman's eyes widened.

"M-milady! Father forbid, my-- my daughter, she's sick with fever, and I can't find her a healer! Please, can't you do something?" the woman asked, clearly upset and nervous at the same time-- to be approached by any noble was a bit of a rarity, but to be approached by the now-de facto leader of their entire society, without requesting an audience beforehand, was no doubt an incredible shock.

Helin looked down to the girl, who coughed and made a soft groan. Her gaze softening, she put a gentle hand on the girl's forehead; she did indeed seem to have a fever. Were there really so few Scribes or priests left to help this poor girl?

"What is your name?"

The woman looked taken aback.

"I-- Beg pardon, milady?" she asked, and Helin looked back to her.

"Your name. And the girl's. What are they?"

"I-I-- M-my name is Fyona, milady, and my daughter's is Dietra," the woman replied. Like most lowborns, neither had a surname.

"I am sorry that I do not have much experience in the healing arts, Fyona," Helin said, "But I swear by my House and the Maker above, I am going to have a healer found to heal Dietra. Do you understand me?"

Fyona bit her lip. Apparently she wasn't used to such generosity from one so high on the social ladder.

"I-it's no trouble, milady, y-you shouldn't be going out of your way for--"

"A child," Helin replied firmly. "I swore to all who could follow me on this journey that they would not regret their decision. Your daughter will be healed, I swear it here."

Fyona looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Maker bless you, Lady Helin..." she whispered, and Helin smiled a little.

"I think you and your daughter could use such blessings more than I," she replied, and now the woman did start crying. Helin reluctantly turned away and strode back toward Solaire.

"This room needs at least one healer," she said to him. "Let us find one, and quickly."

@TheCalmOne

 

[Chask274]

'Bunch of filthy mongrels, the lot of them.'

Leo walked down the corridor of the transport, passing by a couple groups of commoners as he barely kept the disdain and disgust from his face. If it weren't for the fact that his father needed his help, Leo would've been perfectly happy to stay aboard the Redeemer for the entirety of the journey. Alas, Lord Tyrian Belisarion couldn't get around as well as he used to after the injuries he sustained in the Battle of Nihir, but as one of the few competent healers the Order still had, he needed to attend to the sick. So, he'd more or less forced his son to come along with him on his rounds, helping when needed. Sensing his son's discontent, Tyrian looked over at Leo and spoke with an admonishing tone. "Remember, Leonatas, even though these people are beneath us in almost every way, our Order would be nothing without them."

Leo sighed and nodded, then continued walking. Not knowing what he might need to do during the rounds, Leo had elected to wear a simple shirt, trousers, and boots, though the fine quality of the material and the saber hilt hanging from his belt served to mark him as a noble. The pair eventually came to a sizeable room, and Leo spotted a familiar redheaded woman conversing with one of the lowborns on the other end. Walking over, he heard her comment about needing to find a healer, and immediately put on his most charming smile. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance with that, Lady Tyris. My father here is very knowledgeable in the healing arts." The elder Belisarion stepped forward with a respectful nod. "What need do you have of my services, Lady Tyris?"

 

[Jade Swyft]

Jade awoke slowly, then sighed contentedly as she stretched and began to lift herself out of the rickety old bed she'd spent the night in. She said a silent prayer to the Maker, (the prayer was silent because that is what her father had always encouraged her to do, as he despised outward piety) thanking the Maker for life and the bed she had slept in. Silently finishing her prayer with the trinity of Maker Father and Holy Force, as she had been taught to do from birth by her father, Jade dressed quickly into simple humble brown robes.
Despite the fact that she was a Swyft, therefore born into a world of nobility and being waited on hand and foot by servants, Jade Swyft had always cared about all people, from any walk of life. This impelled her to request a space onboard one of the seven transports that carried the former serfs and freemen. Her father agreed, trusting that she was among good people, that she would be in no danger and would hopefully get to know people of a different social class.

'Besides', her father Homer had remarked before they were temporarily parted (he would remain onboard the Redeemer, being unwell he'd have the best facilities due to necessity) '..it would seem to me that once we arrive at our new home, and don't worry my child we will do, there would hardly seem to be any reason to separate ourselves from those who were formerly of a lower social status than ourselves. We may all need to work shoulder to shoulder, serfs and lords alike, in order to build this new civilization. There are not many of the formerly powerful left alive. Things have changed. As a people, we will have to change.'
Jade listened carefully to her father's words, as she always did. She was not only respectful of her wise and caring father, she also loved him dearly.

Jade spent most of every day trying to keep busy caring for others, she could hardly find time to worry about her father. Or to grieve for her mother Persephone, who was brutally slain by those wicked Blackguards on the final day of the final war. Her mother's death may have occurred only a matter of months ago, but the pain was still as sharp and intense as a deep vibroblade wound. It would never leave her. A small part of her whispered that if she had ever came across the vile person who killed her mother, she would've run them through with her own vibroblade, even though this ran totally contrary to her long held pacifistic stance towards violence.
Thank the Maker this could never happen, because to her knowledge all the Blackguards had been destroyed in that final battle at Nihir.

And so, another day began with Jade helping to feed and care for the servants' children, also the poorly and lame among them. Right now, she knelt in front of a young boy in one of the transport corridors, her hand on his neck and her eyes closed tightly. The boys mother had said he had a terrible pain there, and so Jade was attempting to take the pain away by means of her latent Force Healing ability. Although she'd had no formal training, the war having put an end to any such opportunity, Jade's natural care for people seemed to guide her in using her healing power to help those with relatively minor ailments. It was a gift from the Maker, and so she must use it, as her father would say. Jade could only hope that her power would be enough to help this young boy. She focused all of her mind on the task, not seeing or hearing anything else...
@Oncaro

 

[Tristar]

The hangar bay for the transport was cramped as all hell- it didn't help that they stacked crates like the floor was made of lava, it was made worse by the fact that Johann was slick in oil and sweet, working on the underbelly of a shuttle that was meant to deliver the passengers onboard once they arrived at their destination. Or, it wouldn't have done and blew the passengers up the moment the engines were activated. Luckily for the would-be-crash-victims the head mechanic had the foresight to run a diagnostic check up on their shuttles. Unfortunate for Johann, they happened to be running low on manpower, something about an uncooperative reactor as the excuse they used to recruit him.

Johann was a pilot, and a good one at that, not a mechanic. However necessity demanded that he learned a few of the mechanic tricks in case he was ever stuck in a spot. Well, he soberly thought to himself. This is one spot that's going to cling for a while, as he wheeled out from under the shuttle and tossed a multi-tool aside. The metal bar landed with a clang and skittered away from him. "Zis one is done." he cried out to the chief mechanic, standing up and wiping his dirty hands on the back end of his pants.

"You're sure?" The man was cautious, a grizzled bear past his prime though you couldn't see it from his well built body. "Maker damn us if the shuttle blows out from under us." Johann rolled his eyes at the man's reverence to a faith he didn't pay homage to. Oh yeah, the man had swore and oath and paid his dues when he signed aboard the Paladins but he didn't really have much of a choice. They did save him from a slow death adrift in space and gave him a reason to use his skills. For now, he'll toss around this. . 'Maker' left and right if it meant they'll stop harassing him to attend their service. "Ja, I am sure. Ze engine block has seen better days, but bah iz not like ve're getting any upgrades soon."

"No, not for a while anyway. I suppose I will have to trust your judgement on this for now, but I'll have another mechanic run diagnostics later-" Johann waved the man off, digging his pockets for a handkerchief. "Blah blah blah ja, I get it. Now, can I leave?"

The man looked a little insulted, but relaxed and sent Johann off with a nod and an exasperated look as though he was biting back words. The pilot shrugged apologetically and turned to leave, fishing out a relatively clean cloth. The pilot left the hangar bitterly, wondering what the world had come to that the pilot had to do the work of the support crew. He wasn't. . .put off by hard work, so he reasoned with himself. But there were other better qualified people onboard then he for the fix up, and if the head mechanic was going to doubt him the rest of the way he might as well not bother. Regardless it would be a considerable weight on his conscience if the shuttle failed or worse yet, blew up so Johann relented and did his best.

Grumbling to himself as he walked down a cramped corridor filled with some of the passengers. Didn't they have a specific space for them on the ship? eHe had little choice but to try and squeeze his way through the corridor if he wanted that shower however, and kept his pace, trying to wipe the worse of it off with his rag.

 

[Billbo Swaggins]

Solaire nodded in agreement at Helin's words,
"In the future it may be beneficial to allocate some space dedicated to healing the sick, so that these kinds of events don't happen as often."

Turning to begin his search, He instead found both the elder and younger Belisarions.
Luckily for Solaire, the search for a healer ended there, at least temporarily. While the elder one got to work on the sick girl, Solaire intently studied the younger through the visor of his helmet. What was his name... right, Leonatas.

Solaire had fought with him during the war, he was a good warrior - and Solaire respected him for that - but it ended there. Solaire had good reason to suspect that Leonatas was... rather negative when it came to his opinion on Helin's leadership of the Paladins. It was Solaire's duty to be wary of him, not attempt to befriend him.

Unfortunately so, for after the war there were few young men of Solaire's age that he could befriend, his awkward station having lent to his predicament - he was too high to be a mere low-born, but too low to be a noble.

Nonetheless, it could never hurt to be polite, Solaire offered a slight bow (more of a nod), and carefully chose his words,
"Lord Belisarion, Marshall Belisarion, It is good to see you both in good health, and thank you for the assistance."

While he didn't know their actual dispositions against commoners, he had had enough bad experiences when greeting those who were... less accepting of his position than others, so he had eventually learned how to placate the snobbish when greeting them.

OOC: @Chask274 I wasn't entirely sure about Leo's vocality of his views, I can edit it to be more appropriate if Leo isn't vocal but is more secretive instead. I'll just make it so that Solaire suspects instead of knows - something like that.

@Chask274 @Oncaro

Edit: Made the necessary changes - thanks for spotting that guys

 

[The Captain]

"Bless you Lady Dawnbreaker, Maker bless you."

"No need ma'am, no need." An unspoken code of House Ruvexa, all those of Mortis were of value, from the highest lord to the horses of the field, for none could survive without the other. Lords and Ladies could not feel themselves without farmers, and peasants were unable to defend themselves without skilled knights and warriors. So caring for those beneath you was of the utmost import to a true Mortisian. In this case, aiding the peasantry meant returning a lost pet that had escaped the peasant section of the Redemption, and she had found it wandering the halls alone. Beyond the potential attachment to the animal, peasants often kept such animals to catch vermin, something invaluable to their work.

The only problem was that name, Dawnbreaker. A local legend she'd always hoped would die soon, but even after leaving their last planet the brand of 'Dawnbreaker' had not left her. A remnant of the last Blackguard War, along with a missing eye and a severely trimmed family tree, al things she had hoped to leave on Nihir. But alas, the war seemed to cling to her like a shroud, seeping into her daily life no matter how many times she drove it out of her mind. Her solace, however, came in helping those who worked for House Ruvexa however she could.

Turning, she saw Grand Marshall of the order herself, Helin Tyris, conversing with a distressed peasant woman. She would have stepped in immediately if not for the intervention of Paladin Marshall Belisarion and his father. She normally avoided the politics of the order, she found them so needlessly petty and hypocritical, but even she knew that the young Belisarion held both the peasantry and Lady Tyris in low regard. In her eyes he had no business holding such a prestigious rank given both his lack of proper Mortisian empathy and how his opinions threatened the stability of their order.

Straightening her padded shirt and turning fully to the prestigious procession, boots tapping against the durasteel of the deck, she decided, politics be damned to the Son, that she would at least try to intervene.

"Lady Tyris, Lord Belisarion, may I be of any assistance?"

((I'm in!))

 

[Oncaro]

Helin nodded silently at Solaire's suggestion of allocating a specific area for healers to work; the problem was, this transport and the others like it had relatively little room to spare, preventing the populations from shifting around the ships substantially. She only had time to do this, however, before arguably her least favorite person stepped up toward her.

Ugh. That stupid shit-eating grin on his face... To think I was betrothed to this arrogant arse at one point...

Still though, she kept her annoyance hidden as she turned to regard Leonatas and his father.

"For once, Leonatas, I'm actually relieved to see you. Yes, as a matter of fact; the people here could use a healer. Specifically, that woman over there-- Fyona. Her daughter Dietra is sick with fever and needs assistance. Lord Tyrian, I would be quite thankful if you would see to her, and any others here that are in need of healing, while I look into allocating specific areas for the healers on our transports to use; its long overdue."

Another voice got Helin's attention, and she looked to see Lady Sorea Ruvexa. Despite her family's lower standing among the nobility, Sorea herself had proven herself to be quite the devoted Paladin.

"Ah, Lady Ruvexa. Good to see you. I'm currently working on settling the issues the peasantry have here, and anyone with healing experience is useful. Otherwise, perhaps you can help me find an area to set the ship's healers up so that they are not scattered."

 

[Chask274]

Lord Tyrian nodded, "As you wish, Lady Tyris. And I thank you for the offer, Lady Ruvexa, but that won't be needed as far as I'm concerned." He then moved quickly over to Fyona and Dietra, getting to work helping the two. Leo, meanwhile, remained near the others, glancing over at Solaire with a barely concealed sneer after he spoke. He could feel the man's distrust, and Leo had to admit the feeling was mutual. After Helin had shut down their families' attempt to betroth the two of them, Leo couldn't help but notice that Solaire had managed to become close friends with Helin. To spurn him was one thing, but to then turn around and make friends with a blasted peasant?! He'd been livid, and it only served to further cement Leo's bitterness towards Helin.

Turning away from the others with a frown, Leo moved towards the corridor leading out of the room. He'd sensed something happening there, and as he approached, he noticed that there was a teenaged girl attempting to use the Force to help a peasant boy. Intrigued, he observed her for a moment, thinking. Her obvious Force sensitivity and rudimentary knowledge of healing techniques indicated she was most likely a noble, but he couldn't place which family. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "You're doing well for someone so young. What's your name?"

@Oncaro @TheCalmOne @Captain Hook @Jade Swyft

 

[Billbo Swaggins]

Solaire couldn't help but bristle at the casual ignorance of his greeting by Leonatas. Of course, it was probably better than Leonatas getting onto him for even looking at the snob's face but nonetheless, Solaire bristled.

But wait, there's more. Leonatas practically oozed hatred towards Solaire, a feeling which the latter couldn't exactly shrug off.
"Tch." Solaire quietly made a sound of disapproval towards the Marshal's behavior.

He waited until the younger Belisarion was out of earshot, leaning towards his liege lord, he whispered,
"Why you made him a Marshal will always confuse me, Helin."

He could still clearly remember the shock he had felt when Helin had agreed to Leonatas' demand, it had been all he could do at the time to quell his disagreement until after the newly appointed Marshal had left.

He glanced towards Lady Ruvexia. She, unlike Leonatas, had both Solaire's respect and trust. A great warrior and just leader, she was as-kind or even kinder to those of the lower-class than Helin was.

Bowing (a real one this time, but not super low), he said to her,
"It's good to see you again, milady. Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

 

[The Captain]

She wasn't surprised that the elder Belisarion didn't require her assistance on this matter, she was far better at injuring people than helping them after all. best to stick to her strengths. Watching Lord Belisarion depart, she turned to his son, noting the barely concealed disgust on his face. The boy had no respect for his betters, didn't he? Eternally bitter and petty. She allowed the man to leave without a word, as she had none for him.

Her mood took a turn for the better when Freedman Thyria greeted her. Now here stood a man of integrity, honor, and martial prowess, someone far more deserving of a Marshall position than the Belisarion heir. She returned her own polite bow before offering a reply.

"You are welcome Freedman Thyri, although perhaps it was given in haste. I am more hammer than healer."

 

[Jade Swyft]

Feelings of light and peace flowed through Jade's body, followed by a sense of absolute serenity and a feeling of approval, as though the Father himself were smiling down at her. This was how she usually felt after a successful healing. "There you go. He should be fine now. No, no, it's fine. No need to thank me. Praise the Father."
Jade smiled warmly as she spoke to the boy's mother.

A voice startled Jade and she jumped slightly at its sound.

"You're doing well for someone so young. What's your name?"

The man wore simple clothes, but the clearly visible sabre hilt hanging from his belt gave her pause. A noble.. Oh my, and here I am kneeling on the floor in robes like a lowborn servant. What must he think of me?
Jade stood and bowed her head slightly as a sign of respect. Then she cleared her throat delicately and replied in a quiet voice.

"Thank you Sire. It may be hard to believe in my current state of dress, but I am in fact Jade Swyft, daughter of Homer Swyft. I was... Well, I still am really, a member of the Holy Order of the Paladins of Mortis. But the war broke out when I was only eight years old, my Knight was called away, and so my father hid me away from danger and educated me in the ways of the Order. I just do a little to help out here and there, that's all."

 

[Tristar]

A transport ship, despite its appearance of a bloated whale was in reality not the premium choice when it came to interior space. Much of the bulk came from redundant compartments or oversized machinery. The dull hum of the ship was a steady rhythm for the filthy pilot who skillfully sidestepped a huddle of children exploring their ships. He could feel their inquisitive eyes sizing his body as he kept his brisk pace- as far as he understood, Johann was the only foreigner aboard the ship and probably in their neat little group. Maybe the kids were expecting him to chase them down snarling, maybe they figured he was going to do something outlandish.

He snickered as he took the corner and entered another corridor. Spotting a thick crowd ahead, Johann had to wonder what was it with the passengers of this ship and their penchant for leaving their designated seating areas and clogging the corridor. Now admittedly the pilot generally piloted the ship rather than walk around it, but this was ridiculous.

He dodged a slightly cheerful parent who lead a child away from the room ahead of him, which if his memory served him right was in his way of getting a shower. "Tsk." The pilot really didn't want to have to deal with people, sticky and sweaty as he was. The ship's air-conditioning had little effect; with so many people around rising the room temperature, Johann's severe hygiene complex suffered. Grumbling loudly, the knight brushed past the crowd, trying very hard to not to draw too many conclusions to their conversations. He picked up a few bits and pieces here and there though as the crowd slowly started to get the message. "-here?"

"-she doing with us low-born? Doesn't she ha-"

"-ell? It stinks in here-"

"-usting, why we have him on board I'll never kno-"

"-ush, the Lady must have her reas-"

"-wo of them, no lost love for sure but that's just the gums of an old peasant's flapping in the w-"

When the pilot broke free of the gathering and pushed into the room (where oddly enough, the crowd by the corridor did not enter.) a wave of relief washed over him; now only if that could also wash away the stains of old oil and lubricator. The room had very little space, yet there formed an arm's distance between several individuals who no doubt Johann should know as someone important.

Yet the pilot had had very little to do over the course of the journey, and boredom had its ways on memory and mind. A brief spurt of activity wasn't going to jog his memory back, but he figured if it was a posse of important folks he should simply give them all the equal stick- or olive branch, rather. Then again. . .

He sniffed his shirt and nearly vommitted in disgust. He agreed to himself mentally, there was a time and place for formal introductions, but there was also hygienic issues to tend to. Why the closest shower to the hangar had to lie several corridors deep, Johann will never know. It was a question he'd like to ask someone about.

Now if only Johann had asked around by the hangar, particularly the chief mechanic he might have been directed to a more conveniently located showers set for the hangar crew.

But the pilot didn't know that.

"Du kennst Johann, du wählst eine sehr interessante Zeit, um dich selbst zum Narren zu machen. . ." The pilot muttered with impunity, especially in a crude language that very few understood. A small legacy of his kind, whatever it was and wherever it was born. Still, while he stood and waited for the perceived nobility to part ways, his mind slowly started to piece together various bits of lost information. Faces were beginning to look familiar, names slowly drawing up.

"Helle? Hellen? Helin?" He scratched his hair, raising an eyebrow. "Und zat is. . ." He folded his arms, looking at the knight addressing the woman closer to the corridor entrance. ". . . ack, mein gott vy could not zey have choz'n better names? Like Desmond, or Dietter or- or-" he snapped his fingers. "Osmond. Ja, is gut name. Aber nein! Diese verrückten Leute mit ihrer Obsession mit Rittern mussten Namen wählen, die klang wie jemand hustete und erbrach zur gleichen Zeit. . . "

The rest of the faces were a blur in his mind, and Johann chose not to say anything else, aware that he himself had a small circle formed around him. Formed not out of respect, he warranted, but from the unbearable smell of oil and hard work. "Ah, die Welt für ein Bad hier und jetzt. . ."

 

[Sivaprasad]

Spoiler: Tristar translation

OOC:
Now if only Johann had asked around by the hangar, particularly the chief mechanic he might have been directed to a more conveniently located showers set for the hangar crew.

But the pilot didn't know that.

"Du kennst Johann, du wählst eine sehr interessante Zeit, um dich selbst zum Narren zu machen. . ." The pilot muttered with impunity, especially in a crude language that very few understood.

This means:
"You know Johann, you choose a very interesting time to make a fool of yourself"


The translation of the last two things that Tristar's character said (from Aber nein! onwards):

"But no! These crazy people with their obsession with knights had to choose names that sounded like someone coughed and vomited at the same time"

"The world for a bath here and now"

TriStar, i really enjoy reading your character, but could you possibly include a spoiler with an English translation, each time he speaks in German please? Thank you in advance. :)

 

[Oncaro]

"To be honest, Solaire," Helin muttered in response to her retainer's remark, "I'm not entirely sure myself why I let him talk me into it."

This, of course, wasn't entirely truthful. For all his insufferableness, Ser Leonatas Belisarion was dedicated to the Church, and, as a result, the very lowborn people he claimed to dislike. Not only that, he was a truly excellent warrior, something that he had proven throughout the course of the Fifth Blackguard War, and the Battle of Nihir in particular, where he had helped defend the Church's vast archives. Through such heroics he was, indeed, worthy of Marshalhood even if she'd have passed him up due to his attitude.

Besides, if he was going to be a thorn in her side, it would be best to have a somewhat-placated thorn that was close enough for her to rein in through sheer force of will. Sometimes she found herself wondering if his continued intense training was more to catch her attention than anything else, but each time the thought came up she dismissed it.

Turning away as Sorea and Solaire spoke to each other, Helin looked around the room with a small frown on her face as she came across the dirty form of Johann Kass, the first man from outside the Unknown Regions to be inducted into the Order in... well, she wasn't entirely sure how long ago the last such induction was, to be honest. In spite of herself, she wrinkled her nose.

Cavaliers were Knights who primarily operated the fighter craft of the Order, so it wasn't uncommon for them to become dirty while maintaining their craft. What she wrinkled her nose at wasn't his appearance, but his attitude. The only reason he had been inducted into the Order was because of his exceptional piloting skill and the fact that the Order had needed good pilots when he stumbled across the Mortisites. As a result, from what she could tell of him, he didn't really seem to care about the teachings of the Church itself. And to a woman as pious as Helin, such disrespect to an institution that had existed for millennia rankled her. Pissed her right the Hell off. But treating the man like an impious outsider would not endear him to anyone present, nor make potential conversion easier. So she did her best to let her distaste go, and decided to talk to the man.

She took a single step, and suddenly she almost felt as though she were on fire. Pain seared through her mind, an invisible shockwave hitting her with enough intensity to make her head snap back. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth opened as a wail echoed through the Force-- no, not a singular wail-- an untold number of screams conglomerating into a whole, crying out in terror for a single, overwhelming instant... Only to be immediately silenced. In their place was a hole. A wound unlike any Helin had ever experienced.

She felt sick. Sicker than she had ever felt in her life. Her vision blurred, her head seeming to spin as she fell backward, arms spread eagle. She wasn't even aware of her spasming form, or the tears suddenly flowing down her cheeks. Nor was she aware of the loud, piercing scream she was emitting, an instinctual imitation of the pain she had felt almost as if it were her own. The shocked looks of the lowborns, and any reactions among the Force-sensitives in their number, were lost on the young Grand Master as she fell, almost as if in slow motion, and in those moments of pain and emotion and confusion, Helin's mind was overwhelmed. And so it shut down, her eyes closing as she lost consciousness.

Spoiler: POSTING ORDER

@Oncaro
@TheCalmOne
@Chask274
@Sivaprasad
@Captain Hook
@Tristar

 

[Billbo Swaggins]

Solaire was about to continue his conversation with Sorea when suddenly his head started to hurt. However, it wasn't a typical headache like one would normally feel, instead it was as if Solaire was feeling someone else's pain from far away.

Helin screamed.

Solaire spun around to find her falling towards the ground, and, forgetting his own pain momentarily, immediately rushed to break her fall. However, he wasn't exactly fast enough to catch her, as she was already halfway through her descent to the ground, and thus he ended up swinging himself under her to act as a buffer as the two of them hit the ground.

"Helin, what's going on, oh Maker be with me... Helin!" His normally calm voice was filled with worry and panic. He caught sight of the tears flowing down her cheeks and moved to cover her head with his arms - it would not do for a people to see their leader cry, no matter the occasion.

The screaming slowly stopped, Helin, it seems, had fallen unconscious. Solaire looked around and spotted the mother of the child that Helin had promised to help.
"You, come here, help me bring the Grand Master to her quarters."

Solaire, with the help of the woman, got up and supported Helin on his shoulder. He looked around the room, his head still swimming with pain, all around the room, he saw Force sensitives either on the ground or clutching their heads,
By the Father... what happened out there?

He spotted Johann Kass, unlike many other members of the order, Solaire didn't dislike the down to earth man. In fact, Solaire viewed him with great interest, with his accent being what it was - but now wasn't the time for that.
"Sir Kass, see to it that the other victims are assisted, I know you're dirty but this takes precedence over a shower."

 

[Chask274]

Watching as the girl jumped from the sound of his voice, he gave her a kind smile and a small bow. "Ah, Lady Swyft! It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I heard about your mother. I'm sorry for your loss, the Order has lost a great warrior with her passing." He spoke the truth when he had expressed his condolences, but he strongly suspected that the Order had lost Persephone long before her body was found. However, he wouldn't express such suspicions at this time, the girl didn't need another burden on her mind anyways. "Oh where are my manners...I'm Marshal Leonatas Belisarion, pleased to mee-AGGH!" Leo collapsed onto one knee as a massive wave of pain washed over him, his vision shrinking to a pin-point as unconsciousness nearly consumed him. Countless voices were crying out in pain and terror, then suddenly silenced, leaving what went like a gaping hole in the Force. Intermixed with the voices was a sound Leo had only heard once before, and never at such a magnitude; the sound of a kyber crystal shrieking as it bled and was corrupted by the Dark Side. Something horrific had just happened in the galaxy...

"By the Maker.....Wha-what just happened?!?" Pressing a hand to his temple, Leo staggered to his feet and blearily looked around. He noted that his father appeared to be shaken but otherwise fine just down the corridor, and then a realization struck him. Out of all the people left in the Order, there were few that had a better connection to the Force than he, and one of them was onboard this transort. 'Helin!!' Spinning around, he made for the room he'd last seen her in, gesturing for Jade to follow him if able. Rushing into the room, he saw that Helin was being supported by the peasant woman from earlier, and by Sol. Moving swiftly, he brushed aside the woman and helped Sol steady their leader. "...erm, Fyona, was it? Go help the others in this room, I'll assist with Lady Tyris....Alright, boy, lets get her to a bed." He chose to ignore any pointed stares the others were giving him, instead focusing on Helin. He didn't need gto explain his reasoning for caring to anyone, least not yet.

@Sivaprasad

 

[Jade Swyft]

"Ah, Lady Swyft! It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I heard about your mother. I'm sorry for your loss, the Order has lost a great warrior with her passing."

Jade smiled widely at this remark. Since the war had ended, she had not been referred to as Lady, as her father had been her only company. The lowborns and serfs that she helped had no idea who she was, and Jade had preferred it to remain that way. The respectful reference to her mother was also greatly appreciated. She noticed out of the corner of her eye a few of the men and women nearby gazing at her with outright astonishment. The Swyft name carried much weight in Mortisite society.

When the rather handsome man (to Jade, anyway!) introduced himself as Marshal Leonatas Belisarion, Jade's eyes became wide as saucers. Everyone knew of this man and his accomplishments. Jade herself was in his debt forever, without his valiant defense of the archives, that were preserved and had been brought with them on this journey, she would lack all of that wondrous material to study and learn from once they arrived at their new home.

Oh, to be spoken to by a Marshal, as well! This man had just become Jade's new idol. What a great day. Unfortunately, as these thoughts rushed through her mind, Leonatas chose to end this otherwise perfect scene by screaming and collapsing onto one knee. He must have a migraine or something. That's one way to ruin a moment...

She would've helped him up and healed the pain, but somehow Jade sensed this would not have been needed. A moment later, Jade was struck by what must have been the greatest pain that she had ever known. Her head felt like it had been split apart by some enormous blade, then thousands, perhaps millions of voices screamed into the open wound in her mind. The cacophony grew to a shrill and terrible peak, then ended as suddenly as it had began. Jade forced her eyes to open, looking towards the Marshal to see how he was coping with all of this.

Leonatas bravely staggered to his feet, one hand on his temple. Jade, only now realising she had curled up into a foetal position on the floor, forced herself to stand as well. The residual effects of the 'attack', or whatever it was, left her reeling and unsteady. Leonatas suddenly rushed out of the room. Seeing as he had gestured for her to do so, Jade followed him as quickly as she could manage. Fortunately she just saw him as he entered a nearby room.

Jade stood quietly at the entrance and watched as Leonatas steadied Lady Helin. There was something about the way he acted, that made Jade wonder if there had been something between them in the past. Being somewhat isolated, though, she knew little of gossip regarding the lives of others, even those who were under constant scrutiny by the people in general.
Feeling moved by the suffering that she witnessed around her, Jade began to lay hands on those nearby. She whispered vague words of comfort to those who seemed troubled by what they'd just experienced, and attempted to heal any lasting headaches or aftereffects of whatever had just struck them.
@Captain Hook

 

[The Captain]

Pain.

A sudden spike of pain, racing down from the crown of her head through her spine to her feet, like getting struck over the head with a mace. She doubled over, staggering into the wall and bracing herself with her arm. Focusing on her breathing, one of the techniques taught to her as a girl, she tried to steady her racing heart and take her mind off the shooting pain radiating from her head. It worked, but with a clearer head she could now focus on the nuances of the pain. It felt, alien, like she was feeling someone else's agony, a lot of it. And beyond the pain, she felt biting cold, like a frigid void just outside her physical senses. Looking over, several other Knight Paladins had gone down, including the Grand Master, who seemed to have taken the worst hit, as Freedman Thyri steadied her.

And just like that, she was back on Nihir. The pain, the rage, the suffering that seemed to pour from engulf every surface, drowning you in a sea of agony. A hand instinctively shot to her mace as her vision blurred, causing her to slump back into the wall. For a split second she felt something pouring from eye, only to reach up and remember she had lost it a long time ago. Sliding down the wall to a seated position, she starred out over nothing in particular, hands clenching her mace handle like a lifeline from a boat, breathing loud and labored.