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Ahandra's Holodiary

#1
Each and every members of the Horuset Household has hard the stories. It is hardly a secret that the Horusets are constantly caught up in an internal powerstruggle. Even in the household library holovids can be found as a testament to this vile form of politics.

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''I offer you these two choices father, as sign of my respect to you. Option one is simple. You will lay down your arms, kneel before me and proclaim me the rightfull Lord of our house. If you do so, I will grant you a quick death and place you in our family tomb on Korriban with out ancestors.''

Ahandra her soft voice echoes through the hall. The only other sound comes from the soft humming of the many lightsabers in the room. Red, white, purple, yellow, they all glow bright in the dim, flickering light of the many fires that illuminate the shrine.

''The second choice, is even more simple. You reject the surrender, and I will have you gutted like a pig and toss you in a ditch . Trust me, the Sith around you would be more than willing to do so''

Crannus Horuset, his expression ever defiant, looks around the room. Standing in a close circle around him, with their lightsabers drawn, are the Sith of the Azure academy. Each of them is silent, all knowing their purpose of being here. As he stares at the Sith, he meets countless hatefull eyes, every single pair yearns for his death. Vindictos stares at him with his pale, cold and calculating eyes. A amused smile is present on Lormia's face as Crannus stares at her. From the back of the room, Sylfia watches silently, her mood a secret only she knows. Jessina guides her saber through the air, impatient to kill the man she despised for so long. Zhirek remains perfectly still, holding his lightsaber steady in his muscled arms.
A grunt comes from under Crannus his hood followed by his angered voice

''Here you are, claiming that you are ready for this responsibility. But let me tell you something Tinira, you are not ready! After all this time, you still surround yourself with alien filth and other maggots! You know what they did to you, that you cannot trust them. Have you forgotten F'aria? The things she did to you? You're weak, you cannot even face me head on''

With slow, gracefull strides Ahandra makes her way through the other Sith. Her lordly shoulderplates move up and down with each step, rocking along with each movement. She narrows her eyes slightly as her blood red lips form a cunning smile

''That is what you have always failed to see father, this is my strenght. All these Sith around you, especially the aliens, are here because they worked for it. They had to endure hardships you can't even imagine... Do you know why?''

She pauses for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. The Academy Sith take a step closer, their lightsaber humming softly.

''Because you never had to endure it yourself. But I had... And I suppose I should thank you for that. Every time you choked me, hit me, humiliated me... Something grew inside. A terrible rage that I could channel towards one sole purpose... Your death!''

A dim orange light glows deep inside her eyes as she extends her arm towards Crannus. Before he even has time to regret the things he's done, or draw his lightsaber, the Academy Sith overwhelm him. His body dissapears in a teeming mass of lightsabers and vibroblades. Ahandra lowers herself in the velvet clad throne on the other side of the room, watching the spectacle in silence. A sole tear rolls over her cheek as she mumbles to herself in High Sith

''Awuzi datar, wisosûta''

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The bright sunlight penetrates the darkness of the dusty hall. With a loud scraping sound, the seal stone is opened further, illuminating the tomb. Ahandra her footsteps are muffled by the thin layer of sand on the red stone floor as she walks inside. She is clad in a thin, tattered black robe that hangs around her slender frame. The fabric flutters slightly in the light breeze as she enters the tomb. The body of a man clad in a black shroud levitates in front of her as she walks down the hallway. Stern faces chissled in stone follow her every movement. Ahandra inclines her head respectfully to the statues of her ancestors, the many long gone Horusets lining the long walls.
After what feels like an eternity, she reaches an empty grave. It is not deep and seems humble in comparison to the others. With a grunt of effort, she lowers the corpse into the grave before turning to the statue of a thin man with a intelligent appearance.
She sinks down in a meditative position, her slender legs folded underneath her. Remaining silent for a while, her vibrant red eyes glide over the statue, their natural brightness enchanged by the Force presence on her home planet of Korriban.

''I've come to lay your son to rest, where he belongs, grandfather...''

The lined stone face of Chaidus stares her down, not uttering a word. Ahandra meets his dead gaze with a defiant expression, her blood red lips angrily pressed together.

''You know why I did it grandfather, for our house''

She pauses, staring at the statue again. Her words are yet again answered with the pressing silence of the tomb. Ahandra jumps to her feet and screams in annoyance. She balls her fist as the dust around her blows away and ripples through the empty hallway, her anger causing a mild Force shockwave

''Don't look at me like that! It had to be done! I know why he did those awfull things to me, to make me strong! And I am thankfull for that... I really am... But it does not change the fact that this age, with these mindsets, need someone like me! Not him!''

The dust settles again, the silence remains. Ahandra closes her eyes and inhales deeply. The stale air heavily pressing on her already dry throat. After a moment, she turns towards the shrouded corpse. Slowly, she walks towards him, her bare feet making no sound on the dusty floor. She leans forward and carefully pulls the shroud from the mans face. Crannus Horuset seems pale, a strange sight for a Pureblood. His usually so authorative facial features now seem tired. His eyelids are closed, pressed shut tightly by the cold stiffness of death. Ahandra places her thumb on her fathers right eye, and carefully lifts the lid. A dim, lifeless red eye stares at her. Even in death, Ahandra recognised her own eyes in her father. The same, intelligent, vibrant red colour. She swallows heavily and takes a step back from the corpse. Without second thought, she extends both hands. Her entire body makes a fluent pulling motion. A heavy tombstone slides in it's place, covering the corpse of her father. Letters chissled in stone read 'Here lies Darth Crannus Horuset. A paragon of Sith virtue. Defiant till death'

Ahandra looks around the hall. She recognises the tomb of her mother. The statue of Daria Thume projecting stunning similarity to her daughter, who stares at it from across the hall. Ahandra swallows again, all the salive in her throat dried up due to the dusty, heavy air. She starts walking, her long gracefull strides quickly covering space as she makes for the door. Suddenly she stops and her eyes fall on a pedestal without statue. There is no description present of the owner of the grave. All it says, is a name 'Ahandra Yaria Horuset'

A disgusted shiver creeps over Ahandra's spine. Her red lips twist in a hatefull scowl. She balls her hands to fists and turns back to the entrance. While walking towards the bright sunlit outside world, she mutters to herself

''I will rest when I achieved so many things, that it does not fit on that pedestal... The Force shall set me free''

The seal stone slides into place. The Horuset family tomb is dark yet again, waiting for it's next addition patiently

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The smell of death is in the air...

The young man looks up, his pale eyes flashing with both amazement and respect. As the horrid scene unfolds in front of him, he glances to his left and right. The other acolytes, all clad in dark robes with hoods covering their faces, are all doing what they are supposed to do. Each and every one of them mutters silently in the eerie tongue of the ancient Sith. Slowly they rock back and forth as one, none stepping out of line. Yellow, orange and red eyes peer from under cowls, the faces red and crimson, covered in bone spurs. The young man swallows heavily and touches his own face. He feels the two small points on his chin, a memoire to the purity his family once possessed. Suddenly he feels like an outsider, an impure parasite witnessing a ritual that he is not supposed to see. The amazement is gone from his eyes, the fear remains.

A slender woman strides forwards in between the rows of acolytes. Like the others, she is whispering in the Sith tongue. Yet, there is something different about her. The way the words roll from her crimson lips seems captivating. She does not shout, yet her voice is heard in the entire room. The woman stops several meters from the frightening copper statue of a man in agony. Inside his chest, a fire burns bright. The woman pulls her hood from her head. Lush blood red curls roll down her shoulders, glimmering in the light of the many fires. She spreads her arms towards the statue and calls out to it. ‘’Aji ki azuria! Aji ki jina'tis!’’ In response to her voice the chanting of the acolytes grows louder.

The young man’s eyes widen. As he watches the statue, it seems to come to life. A deep rumbling sound is heard and violet fire erupts from the statue’s mouth. A terrifying voice is heard, cutting through marrow and bone. ‘Tsosûta… minjio…’’

Immediately after the statue spoke, a silence falls. The woman slowly lowers her arms, her bright red eyes glaring at the statue with disbelief. She pushes her hair from her face and clenches her jaw. Under her breath she hisses at the acolytes ‘Get out… Now’’
The young man jumps up and follows the stream of disappointed acolytes. He glances over his shoulder. Right before the door closes behind him, he sees a flash of light. The crackling sound of lightning is heard as the woman screams in anger. The horrid smell of scorched flesh stings his nose. With a fearful expression, the man turns away and rushes down the hallway, afraid of what he might see.

The smell of death is in the air…

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Ongoing Crisis
War in the Northern Territories


The Balance of Power in the Northern Territories!

"The Northern Territories shift under the weight of changing times. With the passage of the ICOT, internal strife amongst Imperial Forces in the North has lessened - though never abated. Although the momentum of the Republic has not yet been met entirely, fortification efforts and victorious naval campaigns have evened the footing at least slightly. Eyes align on systems such as Vykos, Nam'ta and Orsus to see how this proceeds.."



((OOC: The Balance of Power system has begun! Missions that relate to grand changes in the Northern Territories will have an impact on the balance of power shown above, with the end result being that the balance of power's state at the start of the next war arc will determine how strong the Republic will be in the area. The balance of power can be pushing in our favour with bigger scale events aimed at taking the Republic down or fortifying ourselves in the North. This can be achieved through Operations, Adventures and Guild Events. The blue represents the Republic, and the Empire is red! This is organised by the Guild Team, so please direct OOC questions to them.))

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