Ask Dathomir Magic Words

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan tilted his head up at Renfry, now planted over his lap, and moved his hands to rest lightly across her thighs. She did seem to be catching on, he thought, even if she didn't know the rules. It drew his interest away from the datapad more than an admittedly quite attractive woman sitting in his lap, which elicited only a slightly wider grin.

Which vanished the moment she said the word Mistress. Slender fingers left her thigh where they lay and peeled Renfry's hand gently but firmly from his chest, eyes sparking with a distant and concealed fire.

"Very. I do not serve," he said coolly, though he didn't actually remove her from his person entirely. She hadn't meant anything harmful by it, he knew this, and so she drew out only a mild warning. The grin returned as quickly as it had left by the next time she spoke, and he considered them for a moment.

"Sosye means, a partner or associate in a joint venture," he replied, intentionally pronouncing the word differently than he had been. A little joke for a little game, voice back to his usual tone as if his correction had never happened at all.

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

She knew precisely what she had said. She enjoyed prodding people, bringing to the surface the things they kept hidden. This was her game, and she could tell she'd hit a nerve. He took her hand and made it clear that he would have none of that, but she was unperturbed.

Mmm, a shame. I can think of exactly how I'd have liked you to serve, she muttered with a smile. She said nothing more, opting not to press the issue but instead move on to what he said.

Very fascinating if you'd been calling me Sosye, she said, repeating the word as he said it now. It hadn't slipped past her that it was different and subtle. All a part of his game, it would seem.

So you don't serve and you don't answer questions, so what do you do? she asked wit ha chuckle. "Back end" apparently, but there was more to him than that. She knew that much already, but it was all part of the game.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan let the next comment about serving pass. She'd caught on, to some degree, and was trying to test his patience. The young man seemed to become suddenly interested in the hand in his grip, gentle but solid as iron. He looked down at it and turned it over, examining Renfry's palm, running a finger lightly across the soft skin to trace the lines and supple digits.

"Nothing worth noting," he began, following the trail of the vein up Renfry's inner forearm with a thumb, skin lightly brushing again skin with the utmost control. He didn't look at her, only at what he was doing. It stopped at her elbow and came away again and, with little warning beyond the coiling of muscles beneath cloth, he began to sit up. Renfry was in his lap, but her weight hardly stopped him. He leaned up and forward to cause Renfry to fall backwards, leaving them in a reversed position; He'd come up onto his knees, and Renfry was below.

Morgan looked down at her then, all fang-toothed smile and glinting golden eyes, and slowly began to lean down toward her. A hand come around to lean against the arm opposite the hand he still held in his grip, his movement stopping a bare foot above her face. He looked at her again then, eye to eye.

"I name you sòsyè for your skill in the arcane, for the origins you've left behind, for your things you've learned and forgotten in the rush of power. It translates, crudely, to a witch, sorceress, a wise woman."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

She didn't resist his grip on her hand as he began to inspect it, and he evaded her question. It was clear his mind was on other things, though precisely what wasn't clear yet.

As he flipped her backwards, her legs came up and wrapped around his hips, smiling mischievously as he did. His actions weren't quite expected, but they weren't surprising either. His eyes were glinting and his mouth was wide. The fangs weren't just a piece of his race, but represented a piece of him. He had a wild nature to him as well, one that he buried, but came to the surface when she prodded.

When he spoke, she listened to his words, and in some ways was the mirror to him when she had said something he didn't like. Her eyes blazed with fire for a moment and her legs tightened around him. Her free left hand came up and her finger poked him in the chest.

Don't call me that anymore, she said, her tone like ice. She detested the term witch, and witch in another language was barely better. The fact that he didn't seem to say it in a derogatory manner was the only reason she didn't have a more unpleasant reaction.

The poke against his chest turned into a firm grip on his shirt and she pulled him down, pressing her lips firmly against his and letting it linger for a moment before releasing him.

With surprising agility and strength she rolled, rolling them both so that for just a moment she was atop him again before she rolled off of him completely and sat on the bed as if nothing had just happened.

What's First Light? she asked, the abrupt change in topic almost comical as she looked back at him with a questioning look.

 

[Darth Stolas]

The young Sith reacted little to Renfry's arms wrapping around his hips, merely allowing them to be there. He did however react to what she said, his head tilting slightly to the side as she poked at his chest, speaking icily in response. She grabbed at his shirt to pull Morgan in but his arms held firm against her own and the bed below, only moving slightly downwards and defying her attempt. He slowly shook his head. That would not be allowed.

"It is a term of respect. If you feel you are undeserving, I will not trouble you with it any longer," he said after a moment, staring her down after the attempt at a kiss. That it was only an attempt was probably for the best, for a variety of reasons. Either way it wouldn't have turned out well, and they still had work to do.

Renfry turned and rolled and Morgan went with her, wary of more attempts on his face, but it only ended up being a dismount. He followed her up and into a sitting position, slender fingers delicately pulling at his shirt to straighten it over his arms and torso where the edges of brand markings were barely becoming visible. He picked his datapad back up from the bed, leisurely bringing it back in front of him and swiping across to a particular bit of data.

His tone had changed again, like nothing had happened at all in the last five seconds, and he looked up from the toward Renfry with an expression of mild amusement. He turned the screen around to show her an old image of the ship in flight against a backdrop of snowy mountains.

"The First Light is this ship's name, apparently. It was quite famous, over a hundred years ago. Now it decorates a mountainside. Funny how the mighty fall, isn't it?"

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Killjoy, she thought to herself as he rejected her kiss, but it was done now. She was thoroughly unconvinced by his explanation that it was a term of respect, but the comment did pique her interest.

She listened as he explained that the First Light was the ship they were on and detailed how it had fallen. Quite clearly it and everyone that it had carried had met an unpleasant end.

There's probably a lesson in there somewhere, she said, agreeing with him, and yet perhaps not taking the lesson to heart. She was set on a path and like many others, would likely be forgotten a thousand years hence, but that didn't matter. Even if she were remembered, she wouldn't care. The Spirits rarely bothered themselves with the realm of the physical.

And now it's been forgotten except for the relics it carried, she said. Because it had no power. It only served as a vessel for power.

What language is it? she asked. She didn't need to explain what she was talking about and had no qualms with easily sliding back and forth between conversations.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan placed the datapad back down, screen up, and looked down at it for a moment. Yes, there was a lesson in there somewhere. It was one he already knew by heart by now, drilled into him by his teacher, by history books and ancient myth, by the way other Sith lusted after and fought for the last remnants of what was left behind.

"When it was owned by a powerful man, it was priceless only because it belonged to him and contained his collection. Now it's just a ship, rare though this model is," he commented drly, eyes looking around the dusty bedroom. Lost and forgotten to time except or the stories attached to Dryden Vos. It was a familiar sensation that ran through his chest.

Morgan turned back to look at Renfry, head tilting slightly to consider her question. He examined the angles of her face closely, able to see her even bathed in shadow. The tattoos that ran down her face and across her delicate cheekbones, the colour of her eyes, the way the muscles in her face shifted fully every time a mood changed from one to the next. His eyes were like a hawk's, almost seeming to stare through with their brief but sharp intensity. It was a few seconds before he actually said anything.

"Firrerreo," came the simple reply before he moved himself across the bed again toward the the side he'd started on. He adjusted the pillows into a more sleep-friendly position, placed his datapad on the table beside the ring, and settled into place beneath a surprisingly clean blanket.

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry waited for his answer, sensing his eyes on her, but she didn't flinch. She was used to people either failing to answer questions or taking their time in answering. She was also used to people examining her for whatever reason.

His answer - when it finally came - was short and concise, directly to the question she had asked. Whether he was annoyed with her or not was difficult to tell, but she decided she'd save the remainder of her being difficult for the morning.

Interesting, was all she said as she settled back onto the bed and closed her eyes. Unless she was interrupted, sleep would take her shortly. After all, this was a step up from sleeping out in the wild and exposed.

---​

Renfry was awake early the next morning and had left the ship to hunt. Her old habits of surviving in the wilds came rushing back, and she'd prepared a meaty breakfast outside by the time the sun was creeping over the horizon. All the food she found on the ship was rotten after over a century, but that wasn't any real issue for her. She'd eaten worse than this before, but time would tell if he had.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan hadn't actually slept, but rather lay in a state closer to a state of deep meditation. It did the job when he was around others while allowing him to keep some semblance of awareness. He rose from the bed shortly after Renfry left the room, gave it a good once-over, and hopped onto his feet to stretch and go through the parts of his morning work routine that didn't require a working shower. He picked the ring and datapad off the side table, placed them in pouches on his belt, and decided to wander around the ship for a while.

Eventually he was summoned out from the ship by the smell of cooking meat, his arrival preceded by the soft sound of leather boots on metal to announce his presence instead of the usual silent step. He looked at the gathered meats hunted by Renfry, then up at her.

"Are you sharing?"

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry could hear and sense him approaching but didn't turn as she continued to rotate the skewered meat. There was no sign of a carcass around or what the meat had come from, but it was nearly done cooking. It sizzled as it dripped into the fire at the edges.

Yeah, it's almost done, she said, shaving off a piece with a knife and taking a bite. It was quite chewy, almost like overcooked clams, but it was edible. It was simply the nature of... this type of meat.

She indicated for him to take a seat as she shaved off another piece to eat.

I don't think the holocron is off-world, she said after a moment. The continued presence of the dark spirit made her guess that wherever the 'cron was, it was somewhere here, on the planet still. It was still exerting a corrupting influence, and thus they would have to find it here. Though, that could still be difficult to find. @Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan wordlessly walked over and dropped into a cross-legged sitting position before the fire, a hand reaching to the back of his belt. Slender fingers pulled a knife from its sheath, the handle composed of two panels of wood, transitioning between red, green, and yellow through the whorls, affixed by pins through a solid tang. The metal was simple modern steel, the blade single-edged, smoothly curved, and terminating at a sharp point six inches from the handle. It was well polished and sharpened, signs of long term use evident in the buffed-down scratches on the sides.

He reached out with the knife, placed a thumb against the meat, and sliced downwards to carve a modest piece for himself with a finger on the spine of the blade. Morgan brought the bit of meat up to his face, sniffed it, then bit down. The expression he made was faintly nostalgic, if not pleased. Despite the toughness his teeth tore chunks from the pale flesh, chewing quietly. He didn't immediately respond to Renfry's comment about the holocron, thinking to himself.

"How does your tracking work?"

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry's eyes settled on the knife curiously. It didn't look like some mass produced tool that he'd purchased off world. She knew enough to be able to tell that it had seen heavy use.

Some sort of heirloom, she asked, motioning to the knife and swallowing her bite of chewy insectoid. Or perhaps he'd made the weapon himself. Or perhaps none of the above.

He gave her a question of his own and she didn't answer for a moment as she took another bite. Everyone wanted to know how magick worked, but her secrets weren't something she liked to share for free. She needed to develop some sort of system of barter with these people. But those were thoughts for later.

It tracks through the Spirits, she said, not explaining exactly what that meant.

The gem remnants here might cause... interference, she said. She was beginning to wonder if she needed to approach her sisters. The thought made her... extremely uncomfortable.

I'll contact one of my sisters to see if she knows anything of it, she said.

She was still quite interested in whatever was on this holocron, and she wondered if it would be worth all the problems she was probably going to create for herself.

But I'm going to want access to the holocron if I do, she said. This would likely be the contentious part, but knowledge was her goal, and if she was going to risk conflict to herself, she wanted to benefit from it.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan looked over at Renfry, swallowing a bit of bug meat before speaking.

"Some sort of heirloom," he confirmed, echoing her question. He tilted his head slightly at her, brows furrowing slightly when her own answer at first seemed vaguely unhelpful. Morgan didn't care how her magic was cast or what spiritual whatever it took, just what sort of things it required to be used. She did end up actually giving a helpful answer in the end, and he hummed in a satisfied sort of way before taking another piece of meat from the fire.

Her request brought him pause for a moment. He looked up at the woman across the fire again, examining her expression. An amused expression crossed his face, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"That was always allowed. I would not have asked for your help if it wasn't," he said, exactly as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. He chewed on another piece of insect. Renfry had also mentioned contacting one of her sisters. The sisters she'd refused to contact just the previous day. She obviously didn't want to, but she had already said she would.

"Not everything on it may be useful to you, but some of it should be," he said, pulling his datapad from his belt and going through a series of commands. He was going to have to call a salvage company to retrieve the ship itself and take it off to be refurbished. There's no way he could fly it in the state it was in, though it was a remarkably durable design for a yacht. He knew just the place.

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

She sensed that he wasn't interested in talking about the knife, but filed it away as a possible question at a later time. Perhaps it wasn't worth the follow-up, however.

He smiled at her statement, but didn't seem to put up any sort of resistance to the idea. She was accustomed to the idea that Sith didn't like to share their secrets - or maybe she was projecting the fact that she didn't like to share her secrets - but that didn't seem as though it would be an issue here.

Maybe not, she said with a shrug, but knowledge was useful. Sometimes it became useful in ways not anticipated. She wished they knew more about what was on it, but that didn't seem to be the case. Or at least, he'd not mentioned that he did.

Good, she said, standing and setting down her knife. I'll be right back, she said, heading around the ship and out of easy earshot. She wasn't going to lead him to the Nightsister village, but she thought she could convince Síle to come out to the ship to meet her.

Sure enough, after a brief and heated discussion, her fellow Nightsister agreed to make the trip out to meet them. She returned to the fire several minutes later.

She's on her way, she said, knowing it would still be a short period of time before the other woman arrived.

She won't be happy to see you, she stated bluntly. There was no point in dancing around the topic that the Nightsisters were incredibly territorial. She didn't think what she said would come as any surprise to him.

Do you have any idea if anyone else was looking for this place? she asked. It was possible he would have bumped into someone else in the process of tracking this ship, but she found it unlikely. @Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan took the time while Renfry had gone off to contact a native of Dathomir to finish off his bit of meat and pull a cigarra from one of his belt pouches, lighting it with a coal from the fire he willed in front of him before returning it. He exhaled a cloud of smoke to join that from the fire and looked idly around the area. His head cocked slightly toward a spot between the ship and the mountainside, able to hear the distant sound of Renfry's voice. She was clearly not happy about with the specific person she'd contacted. He picked out no specific words or details, lost in the background noise of the planet and the curves of the ship.

The cigarra was a third burned through by the time she returned, eyes that reflected the firelight regarding her face with care as Renfry spoke. Morgan casually waved a hand toward her, as if to wave away what she said.

"Understandable. I am a guest here. I'll be good," he answered with a small smirk before he took another drag. "Some parts of Crimson Dawn have lately decided they would like to recover old symbols of their authority. A shame they've met with some difficulty." His tone was playfully mocking and insincere. It was not a shame at all, and he'd certainly had a personal hand in one or two of those difficulties. More would eventually think of Dathomir, but their search had started much later than Morgan's. The two Sith had a significant lead.

"There was also a dock administrator who had an interest in locating it," he continued after a few seconds, a slow and sharp-fanged smile spreading across his face, somehow managing to contain both joy and purest malice.

"Just some dead man. Not to worry."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry scratched her head in anticipation as she awaited Síle's arrival, glad to listen to what Morgan said as he explained the others he had run across on the way. Dead men and slow thugs, nothing that indicated to her that it was likely one of them had beat the pair - or rather beat Morgan - here to Dathomir.

Okay, she said with a nod, clearly more concerned than he'd seen her before now. In addition to seeing her Sister, she didn't want to bring about any sort of trouble for her people. If others were going to come here, that could still create problems... no, probably not. She didn't envy anyone who attacked the Clan on their home turf.

You are a dangerous one, aren't you? she said with a snicker, noting the dangerous look in his eyes as he mentioned the work he had done to kill those who were coming after the prize.

It was quite some time before the Nightsister arrived, and she was not happy when she did.

Ren!? she said, climbing off of her speeder with a heavy frown. She looked to be perhaps a year or two younger than Renfry with short sword and lightbow hung across her clothes. Her eyes quickly settled on Morgan first and pointed at him.

What are you doing here? Now she's bringing people to our world? What do you want? she asked, demanding answers without any sort of reservation.

 

[Darth Stolas]

He merely chuckled in reply to Renfry's question and took another drag from his cigarra, idly blowing smoke rings into the humid air while they waited. It really did remind him of home in a way, hostile and full of life. Where he came from wasn't quite so ominous and filled with the remnants of ancient magic and strange powers, but that didn't really make it any less dangerous. Just more surprising when a predator the size of a speeder truck emerged from the undergrowth to tear into an unsuspecting foreign guest.

After a few minutes of waiting he flicked the end of his cigarra into the fire and watched it burn away into into nothing, lost in some distant train of thought. It was the whine of an approaching speeder that pulled him back, head cocking slightly in its direction before his eyes followed, catching sight of the woman as her vehicle slowed to a stop and hopped off. True to Renfry's word she didn't seem particularly pleased with Morgan's presence.

The young Sith stood from his seat and then bent slightly at a waist, offering a polite but friendly smile.

"I apologize for my intrusion, miss. It's not Renfry's fault, I came here all on my own. I hope not to stay overlong," he said as he stood back up to his full height, bright gold eyes meeting the gaze of the new arrival. He couldn't tell her age or seniority, knowing exactly one Nightsister until that point and even then only for a very short time. Morgan turned slightly to the side and waved a hand at the crashed remains of the First Light.

"I'm looking for the artifacts this ship used to contain. I will also be having the ship itself removed. It doesn't belong here."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry appeared from inside the ship a few moments later. It was both good and bad to see Síle again. Of all the members of the Clan, she was the one Renfry had been closest to, and after all that Renfry had done, seeing her again was a bit difficult.

What?! You're going to bring other people here too?! she asked, hissing in anger.

Síle, it's fine, Renfry began. The look on the other Nightsister's face was a mix of relief, frustration, and concern when she saw Renfry.

Ren, you know he shouldn't be here, she said, pointing to Morgan and talking about him like he wasn't here. Well, Renfry had warned him... and tried to avoid this.

I know, but as soon as we find what we're looking for, he'll be gone, she said.

Plus there's an intruder who took what we're looking for, isn't there? she asked. It was part of the reason she'd set this meeting. She had a feeling that whoever had taken their holocron was also on Dathomir against the will of the Nightsisters.

Yes, she said after a moment, looking back over at Morgan with suspicion.

Why can't you off worlders just stay away, she said with a frown that wasn't entirely unlike Renfry's.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan had conveniently become fascinated with the fingernails of his left hand at some point in the middle of the Nightsister's protests. Her name was apparently Sile, which was good to know for the future, but the young Sith otherwise let Renfry handle the situation. It was her contact, after all.

By the time Sile had turned back to look at him he'd found and lit another cigarra to pass the time. Really it had only been a few seconds but he'd wandered off to other thoughts in that brief span and sat back down. Golden eyes turned from the dim forest to look at the Nightsister again, pupils reflecting the light from the fire now that he was seated back behind it.

"The brightest jewels attract the greediest eyes, miss," he replied breezily after exhaling a cloud of smoke. After a moment his lips pulled into a friendly, if fang-toothed smile.

"The sights of Dathomir are as beautiful as I imagined. Not to worry, I will take nothing that belongs to your people."

@Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry cast a glance over to Morgan as he distracted himself before focusing her attention back on Síle once again. The other woman looked thoroughly unconvinced by Morgan's statement, but seemed to let it go for the moment as she turned back to Renfry.

The young woman let out a sigh as she spoke again.

Somewhere in the jungles a few kilometers west of here there's a man who's been living out there. Mother says he's attuned to the Shadow and that we should stay away from there because he hasn't bothered us, she explained. And that certainly explained why they hadn't found their prize here. She also knew that part of the reason the man hadn't been dealt with was because it was Renfry who would have been giving the task of rooting him out. Despite their study of magick, most Nightsisters lacked the more intensive training that a Shaman received, and it was likely that whoever had replaced Renfry as First - if anyone - hadn't progressed far enough in their training for that confrontation.

She won't be happy if she finds out you're back and with... him, she said, motioning with her head toward Morgan.

Be careful, Ren, she said, before giving Renfry a hug and turning to leave.

Renfry felt a tightness in her chest as she watched her leave, biting the inside of her lip and fighting back the tears threatening to form in her eyes. She turned toward her own speeder and began fidgeting with her gear for a few moments as the sound of Síle's speeder faded into the jungle.

That could have gone worse, and we have our next step, she said, finally turning back to Morgan. Overall, the meeting could have gone much, much worse, and they'd received what they needed to on their next objective.

Are you ready to go? she asked, not wanting to linger here any longer than necessary and fester with her own thoughts.