![[-]](https://www.horuset.com/images/igame/collapse.png "[-]")
29-04-2023, 09:56 PM
**A brief pause follows the activation of the projectors, emitting a lowbrow dose of static and humming in chorus to the machine's multiple attempts to power on. Finally it succeeds and in that instant the profile of a human male materializes, stood with his hands at his back and eyes staring forward into the space occupied by the phantom recorder from which the projection was seen. A full head of black hair falls around his head carving his eyes into focus below the cut-off of his fringe, his jawline all but consumed by a beard that is drawn into a point below his chin and reaching to the corners of his mouth like tendrils. His right eye emblazoned with a blood red tattoo marking him out among his species, and the left side of his face burned by forces unknown, the skin replaced by crinkled and dried scar tissue.**
"This is Gladiator Six, though my slave arena designation remains embedded in my mind, I have chosen to adopt a name of my own, I am Ravnor."
**With the brief introduction finished the projection flickers and then begins a separate playback, the human male once again materializing onscreen.**
"My time aboard Th'Asidra, capital ship, training facility and staging area for many of House Horuset's Sith aspirants and Lords, has thus far been one of discovery. I have made myself known to several Sith apprentices who will no doubt forget my name immediately so I wonder why they bother in their antiquated prosperity to ask. And I have ensured there are no delusions of friendship between the other Acolytes and I, some are truly impressive specimens having no doubt trained for much longer than I, while others only serve to infuriate me in their callous disregard of reality. I shall not name them for fear their incompetence is a disease of the mind. For the Acolytes our role is predetermined, we are nothing until we are deemed capable, to act as anything more than that is only met with threats of violence and is often followed by subsequent acts of violence that vary from Lord to Lord and Apprentice to Apprentice."
**The projected male gives a shrug, discarding the latter fact as neither here nor there.**
"My place as a very recent arrival has me at a truly frustrating disadvantage, while none would dare question my skill in a melee the other Acolytes seem able to wield the force to a much more substantial level. It would frustrate me less if the lessons were more frequent and I could close the gap, but as it stands I am forced to endure seven cycles at a time between lessons. Meanwhile the Acolytes that cause me such pain of mind cannot be put in their place because I don't know what I need to know yet. I do not see how strength can be demonstrated if it is not cultivated, the Overseers and Lords should have more interest in their future warriors. My old master knew that better than this rabble of Pureblood scum. But as it stands my shackles remain, I am no slave in the traditional sense anymore, but I remain bound to the decisions and complacency of others. Their hierarchy of strength is a paradox, those with strength are unwilling to raise strong warriors for they believe it is beneath them and those willing to be put to the test are forced to bow their head and try not to make requests of their superiors. It is a cycle that Lord Yutal's writings have enlightened me to see."
**The male walks off center then reappears with a data-pad, activating the device and his fingers dancing a practiced waltz over it's surface.**
"In my words and my writings I will decree what it is to be a follower of the Old Ways in the force and what it means to be of the Sith. Not merely a placeholder member of the Order which atrophies away under the watchful eye of certain factions."
**Deferring the datapad to his back the Acolyte looks back straight forward into the seemingly open space accommodated by the recorder's lens, his quotation finished.**
"I should explain, when I am not centering myself within Th'Asidra's sanctum where the force and indeed the dark side flows without interrupt, I am reading and revising the words written by Lord Yutal in their entirety. The laws of the Sith truly intrigue me despite my lack of exposure during my indentured servitude to House Rethlan and House Vethro, they express in their purest form the singularly uncomplicated philosophies of the Sith. And with such clear cut guidelines, success is measured only by ability and tenacity. Yet my mind lingers on the day-to-day of House Horuset, I wonder if these writings are only relevant to those who can commit to them beyond their trials, perhaps the Apprentices have forgotten, or alternatively the Lords have encouraged them to move on, but in these settings it seems that cruelty and malice without reason are more commonplace than the pursuit of power. Surely the pursuit of power should be that you train and instruct the next generation to test you? Is that not what the Sith Code teaches? Strength provides Power, but if you're only testing yourself against yourself to fall into the state of atrophy that Lord Yutal despises?"
**The man takes a pause from his innermost thoughts. His eyes remain still but alive with thought, the pause takes only a short while to pass.**
"As it stands, my blade work is about as good as I can make it, but my challenging of Acolytes usually ends with me being flung across the arena by the force, or singed with short handed flicks of lightning. They wield the force beyond my own capabilities and that in turn makes my blade next to useless. So I am resolved to await the lessons given by those capable, relishing in the pain of the Acolytes who fail, and ultimately climb out of these shackles, though not physical, are no less restricting than the real things. Though I must question...are my bonds in place at the behest of House Horuset, or are they chains I give myself?"
**The entry ends abruptly, the holo image of the male losing light and all manner of present being in a blink.**
"This is Gladiator Six, though my slave arena designation remains embedded in my mind, I have chosen to adopt a name of my own, I am Ravnor."
**With the brief introduction finished the projection flickers and then begins a separate playback, the human male once again materializing onscreen.**
"My time aboard Th'Asidra, capital ship, training facility and staging area for many of House Horuset's Sith aspirants and Lords, has thus far been one of discovery. I have made myself known to several Sith apprentices who will no doubt forget my name immediately so I wonder why they bother in their antiquated prosperity to ask. And I have ensured there are no delusions of friendship between the other Acolytes and I, some are truly impressive specimens having no doubt trained for much longer than I, while others only serve to infuriate me in their callous disregard of reality. I shall not name them for fear their incompetence is a disease of the mind. For the Acolytes our role is predetermined, we are nothing until we are deemed capable, to act as anything more than that is only met with threats of violence and is often followed by subsequent acts of violence that vary from Lord to Lord and Apprentice to Apprentice."
**The projected male gives a shrug, discarding the latter fact as neither here nor there.**
"My place as a very recent arrival has me at a truly frustrating disadvantage, while none would dare question my skill in a melee the other Acolytes seem able to wield the force to a much more substantial level. It would frustrate me less if the lessons were more frequent and I could close the gap, but as it stands I am forced to endure seven cycles at a time between lessons. Meanwhile the Acolytes that cause me such pain of mind cannot be put in their place because I don't know what I need to know yet. I do not see how strength can be demonstrated if it is not cultivated, the Overseers and Lords should have more interest in their future warriors. My old master knew that better than this rabble of Pureblood scum. But as it stands my shackles remain, I am no slave in the traditional sense anymore, but I remain bound to the decisions and complacency of others. Their hierarchy of strength is a paradox, those with strength are unwilling to raise strong warriors for they believe it is beneath them and those willing to be put to the test are forced to bow their head and try not to make requests of their superiors. It is a cycle that Lord Yutal's writings have enlightened me to see."
**The male walks off center then reappears with a data-pad, activating the device and his fingers dancing a practiced waltz over it's surface.**
"In my words and my writings I will decree what it is to be a follower of the Old Ways in the force and what it means to be of the Sith. Not merely a placeholder member of the Order which atrophies away under the watchful eye of certain factions."
**Deferring the datapad to his back the Acolyte looks back straight forward into the seemingly open space accommodated by the recorder's lens, his quotation finished.**
"I should explain, when I am not centering myself within Th'Asidra's sanctum where the force and indeed the dark side flows without interrupt, I am reading and revising the words written by Lord Yutal in their entirety. The laws of the Sith truly intrigue me despite my lack of exposure during my indentured servitude to House Rethlan and House Vethro, they express in their purest form the singularly uncomplicated philosophies of the Sith. And with such clear cut guidelines, success is measured only by ability and tenacity. Yet my mind lingers on the day-to-day of House Horuset, I wonder if these writings are only relevant to those who can commit to them beyond their trials, perhaps the Apprentices have forgotten, or alternatively the Lords have encouraged them to move on, but in these settings it seems that cruelty and malice without reason are more commonplace than the pursuit of power. Surely the pursuit of power should be that you train and instruct the next generation to test you? Is that not what the Sith Code teaches? Strength provides Power, but if you're only testing yourself against yourself to fall into the state of atrophy that Lord Yutal despises?"
**The man takes a pause from his innermost thoughts. His eyes remain still but alive with thought, the pause takes only a short while to pass.**
"As it stands, my blade work is about as good as I can make it, but my challenging of Acolytes usually ends with me being flung across the arena by the force, or singed with short handed flicks of lightning. They wield the force beyond my own capabilities and that in turn makes my blade next to useless. So I am resolved to await the lessons given by those capable, relishing in the pain of the Acolytes who fail, and ultimately climb out of these shackles, though not physical, are no less restricting than the real things. Though I must question...are my bonds in place at the behest of House Horuset, or are they chains I give myself?"
**The entry ends abruptly, the holo image of the male losing light and all manner of present being in a blink.**
Discord:
lord_saltaeon
