Zach
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Nov 19, 2010
- Messages
- 3,453
- Reaction score
- 9
Jason paced the corridors of the enclave in silence. In the past few days of his training, he'd exercised his skills in combat, knowledge, and even the Force. He'd been pushed to his limit so many times in his training with the Lead Council Member Malice that he'd had to fall back on his abilities on more than one occasion. The enclave was silent, save for the echoing foot steps of his peers. He'd learned little of the Order since joining, except that speaking was forbidden within the walls of their sanctuary. The dress code was irksome, but understandable. Every faction in the universe had their own customs, and if he ever wished to belong anywhere, he'd have to abide by someone's rules. It might as well be a faction he believed in. Everything he'd ever wanted, to learn and improve himself, was right here. The Pentacle Athame Order was exactly what he wanted... What he needed. The Jedi were too close minded, and the Bogan were too open-ended and aggressive in their beliefs. Neither of them suited his tastes, and it was a miracle that an agent of the Order found him.
Aside from the little he knew about the beliefs of the Order, only the goals of knowledge and improvement, he knew even less about the leadership. He knew Malice, of course, his master and teacher inside the enclave. From what he'd been taught, the Order was founded by three powerful individuals, come together and formed this organization. He knew there were three specializations; power through the Force, finesse through agility and lightsaber combat, and a mixture between the two. He'd heard of Arcane, a solitary and mystical individual who socialized very little. He'd glanced the man only once from the time he'd arrived at the enclave to the current moment. Lastly, there was Wraith. He was nothing less of a mystery in Jason's eyes, a shadow behind the flame. He'd never seen him, never heard his thoughts through telepathy. Jason didn't even know the man's age. For all he knew, it could be a wise old man or a young prodigy of the Force.
Jason wanted to desperately to meet this Wraith. To know exactly who it was he devoted himself to when he joined the Order. In the past, he'd accepted that he wouldn't always be top dog, or even be the right hand man of those with power. He always, however, made sure to make a name for himself in the eyes of those he worked for, be they crime lords to criminal masterminds, or the Grand Master of the Jedi to the leader of the Bogan. If nothing else, he wanted to prove to Wraith that he could be a reliable individual that he could count on, if certain objectives needed completion without any way to trace it back to the Order, or to himself. He'd heard rumors when socializing with his peers inside the enclave about Assassins. They were a secret rank of members within the Order that carried out the tasks of eliminating targets in secret, or even to kill their fellow brothers within the Order should they commit any acts of treason.
It was to Wraith that Jason decided he must prove his worth to. If he could not impress even the leader of the organization he devoted himself to, then he did not deserve to be here at all. He would ask for an audience, and explain himself to the Grand Master. He would ask for a task, a mission of importance. If Jason succeeded, Wraith might see him as dependable, should he need of his talents.
Jason reached his quarters and quickly rearmed himself beneath his robe. Since leaving his quarters the last time, he'd taken part in a friendly sparring match and used a significant amount of ammunition. It was quite different here than it was at the Jedi Temple, where he was scorned for his use of practical projectile weaponry. Here, all manners of combat techniques were appreciated and praised, if they were useful. He carried his lightsaber with him at all times, attached to his belt, in case he needed to draw it for close quarters combat, but he rarely used the weapon. Since joining the Order, the blue color crystal had been replaced with a silver one. He'd never seen the color before used with a lightsaber, but he was surprisingly pleased with the look when he ignited it for the first time.
He made his way through the halls, still knew to the layout of the enclave. He found his way to the stairs where he was met by two cloaked and masked guards. He approached them and bowed lightly in respect. They inclined their heads in response, the closest turning to face him. Speaking telepathically, Jason reached out to their minds and addressed the both of them, "Greetings, brothers. I would like to request an audience with the Grand Master, if he is willing to meet with me." He looked through the mask covering his helmet, both of the guards facing him now. They turned to each other and nodded, turning back to Jason.
"Very well. Approach his chambers at the top of the stairs. He will sense your presence," one of the guards replied, telepathically of course. Jason inclined his head in respect and took the first step up the circular stairwell. It rose a good twenty feet before it opened up to the second floor's library.
There were a few neophytes sitting at tables, their noses in their books and scrolls. The only sound echoing through the room was the ruffling of pages and foot steps of his peers scuffling from shelf to shelf. He turned his gaze to the other stairwell just next to where he exited and stared up at the ceiling. Just above him resided the Grand Master of the Pentacle Athame Order. There was no telling how powerful he was, or how he would seem in person. There was only one way to find out, he thought, as he took the first step on the second stairwell.
Just as Jason took his first step, every head turned to him. It wasn't often that anyone approached Wraith's quarters, and it was even more rare to see a neophyte allowed access without an escort. After a moment of awkward staring, the neophytes returned to their books and scrolls, pretending not to pay a second moment's notice to him. Jason sighed to himself, hoping he'd make it downstairs alive. He took a second step up the stairwell and raised his eyes to see how many steps there were. It was surprising how long it took to get to the top. Probably just his nerves. It was at that point he realized that the steps had ended and he stood before a massive set of double doors. He waited a moment before taking the last step so he was directly in front of it. He wondered how close he would need to be for Wraith to sense his presence.
Aside from the little he knew about the beliefs of the Order, only the goals of knowledge and improvement, he knew even less about the leadership. He knew Malice, of course, his master and teacher inside the enclave. From what he'd been taught, the Order was founded by three powerful individuals, come together and formed this organization. He knew there were three specializations; power through the Force, finesse through agility and lightsaber combat, and a mixture between the two. He'd heard of Arcane, a solitary and mystical individual who socialized very little. He'd glanced the man only once from the time he'd arrived at the enclave to the current moment. Lastly, there was Wraith. He was nothing less of a mystery in Jason's eyes, a shadow behind the flame. He'd never seen him, never heard his thoughts through telepathy. Jason didn't even know the man's age. For all he knew, it could be a wise old man or a young prodigy of the Force.
Jason wanted to desperately to meet this Wraith. To know exactly who it was he devoted himself to when he joined the Order. In the past, he'd accepted that he wouldn't always be top dog, or even be the right hand man of those with power. He always, however, made sure to make a name for himself in the eyes of those he worked for, be they crime lords to criminal masterminds, or the Grand Master of the Jedi to the leader of the Bogan. If nothing else, he wanted to prove to Wraith that he could be a reliable individual that he could count on, if certain objectives needed completion without any way to trace it back to the Order, or to himself. He'd heard rumors when socializing with his peers inside the enclave about Assassins. They were a secret rank of members within the Order that carried out the tasks of eliminating targets in secret, or even to kill their fellow brothers within the Order should they commit any acts of treason.
It was to Wraith that Jason decided he must prove his worth to. If he could not impress even the leader of the organization he devoted himself to, then he did not deserve to be here at all. He would ask for an audience, and explain himself to the Grand Master. He would ask for a task, a mission of importance. If Jason succeeded, Wraith might see him as dependable, should he need of his talents.
Jason reached his quarters and quickly rearmed himself beneath his robe. Since leaving his quarters the last time, he'd taken part in a friendly sparring match and used a significant amount of ammunition. It was quite different here than it was at the Jedi Temple, where he was scorned for his use of practical projectile weaponry. Here, all manners of combat techniques were appreciated and praised, if they were useful. He carried his lightsaber with him at all times, attached to his belt, in case he needed to draw it for close quarters combat, but he rarely used the weapon. Since joining the Order, the blue color crystal had been replaced with a silver one. He'd never seen the color before used with a lightsaber, but he was surprisingly pleased with the look when he ignited it for the first time.
He made his way through the halls, still knew to the layout of the enclave. He found his way to the stairs where he was met by two cloaked and masked guards. He approached them and bowed lightly in respect. They inclined their heads in response, the closest turning to face him. Speaking telepathically, Jason reached out to their minds and addressed the both of them, "Greetings, brothers. I would like to request an audience with the Grand Master, if he is willing to meet with me." He looked through the mask covering his helmet, both of the guards facing him now. They turned to each other and nodded, turning back to Jason.
"Very well. Approach his chambers at the top of the stairs. He will sense your presence," one of the guards replied, telepathically of course. Jason inclined his head in respect and took the first step up the circular stairwell. It rose a good twenty feet before it opened up to the second floor's library.
There were a few neophytes sitting at tables, their noses in their books and scrolls. The only sound echoing through the room was the ruffling of pages and foot steps of his peers scuffling from shelf to shelf. He turned his gaze to the other stairwell just next to where he exited and stared up at the ceiling. Just above him resided the Grand Master of the Pentacle Athame Order. There was no telling how powerful he was, or how he would seem in person. There was only one way to find out, he thought, as he took the first step on the second stairwell.
Just as Jason took his first step, every head turned to him. It wasn't often that anyone approached Wraith's quarters, and it was even more rare to see a neophyte allowed access without an escort. After a moment of awkward staring, the neophytes returned to their books and scrolls, pretending not to pay a second moment's notice to him. Jason sighed to himself, hoping he'd make it downstairs alive. He took a second step up the stairwell and raised his eyes to see how many steps there were. It was surprising how long it took to get to the top. Probably just his nerves. It was at that point he realized that the steps had ended and he stood before a massive set of double doors. He waited a moment before taking the last step so he was directly in front of it. He wondered how close he would need to be for Wraith to sense his presence.