Artisans: Peace and Prosperity ((Open))

[Jehova Eaven]

There was no room for him here, no love, only mild hatred and insecurities. No one in the "brotherhood" would have him close. No one would consider him an equal in this place. That was the way of things when it came to his life. He was never truley loved, oh the desire, it drove him mad.

"No one cares..."

He walked along the halls glancing occasionaly at the paintings. Some were beautiful, others were not. No one considered him beautiful and this saddened him.

"Only one thing left to do...."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Tap, step, tap, step.

The telltale sound of Hob out walking echoed down the halls. When Jehova encountered the dwarf, however, he was walking on one of the walls, rather than the floor.

His eyesbrows lifted at the sight. "Eaven?" he asked. "I have not seen you here for some time. What has drawn you this way, Brother? And why are you standing on the wall?"

[Jehova Eaven]

It was Hobgoblin, the self styled guardian of the Hand. He was a weird fellow. Walking along the walls, coming up from the ground, always a strange entrance. Jehova didn't know if he was right side up or not anymore.

"You're the one standing on the wall." he said. "Anyways, I'm here taking a break from the trials and tribulations of the Sith."

There was a war going on between the Imperial Remnant and the Sith Order. He was one of the ones Telan wanted badly.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Am I on the wall?" Hob said, gazing down at where he stood and then at Jehova's own position. He glanced between the two and came to the conclusion that Jehova was right- he was indeed on the wall.

"Why, so it would appear," he added amiably and abruptly corrected this by falling off the wall into a handstand in front of Jehova. "It is very trying to be a Sith, isn't it?" Hob continued, flipping himself upright. "So much easier to be a Dark Jedi, you know."

Hob gazed curiously at Jehova. "Would they kill you, these Sith, if they found you here, speaking to me as a Brother of the Hand?"

[Jehova Eaven]

Jehova smiled slightly as he leaned against the wall that Hob was previously standing on. The Sith... they were no real threat to him.

"They would probably try, but I know exactly how they think. They are far too disorganized to kill me."

He sighed as he remembered his earlier days. He was much like an animal, he was as the Sith wanted him to be. It was hard to believe that he had learned so much in such little time. It was as if he was living life with his eyes closed and now they were opened to take in all the beauty that was the universe.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"As it should be. Come," Hob beckoned. "Walk with me."

As the two of them continued in Hob's direction, the Dark Dwarf began to speak. "Overwhelming passion can blind as easily as placid calm. One sees only the object of one's desire and may miss forces that move against him. That is why Dark Jedi should approach things with a more open-mind."

"Tell me, Jehova- do you consider yourself worthy of the title of Sith Master that those of the Order have bestowed upon you?"

[Jehova Eaven]

He thought for a moment. He had never bothered to learn any Sith spells. He considered himself more of a warrior than a conjurer of cheap tricks. Why the Sith had promoted him to master levels was beyond him. All he knew was that he wanted the power of a master. Were the masters at TSO only as powerful as he?

"I can't answer that at the moment." he said, looking down at the floor. "If you mean by a master of the Sith arts then no, but if you mean by Master of Sith then yes. I have a few apprentices who follow my orders."

Ah yes, his apprentices without them he was nothing. He owed them much and would reward them when he was done here on Vjun.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Blind obedience, properly guided, can be a useful tool," Hob commented. "But without independence, a zealot is a puppet, with all the limitations therein."

Hob took a few more steps, then paused. "And what are your goals for them, Jehova? Furthermore, what are your goals for the Hand?"

[Jehova Eaven]

He stopped keeping pace with the dark midget and just stared at him. All of these questions, curious this man was. Curiousity was normally to be punished and yet Jehova stayed his hand.

"I have no real goals for them." He lied. "As for the Hand... well I can do nothing that they can not achieve themselves."

He continued to stare at Hob. There were questions forming in his mind that he wanted to ask this little man. Jehova would have his answers one way or the other.

"Why do you ask these questions?"

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Why does a man open his eyes?" Hob countered, question for question.

From beneath the hood of his robe, Hob's eyes glittered.

[Jehova Eaven]

He continued to stare at the little man for a few seconds. The man answered his question with yet another question. He did not like this manner of interrogation. It reminded Jehova too much of the Cloaks. For now though he would continue to answer his questions.

He sighed and then looked at another painting on the wall. The artwork was indeed old, the halls of the Sith did not hold paintings. They were barren and cold, much like his heart had become.

"A man opens his eyes to look upon the beauty of the world." he said as he reached out to touch the painting.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Why Jehova," Hob said with a soft undertone. "You say that as though you had no appreciation for the very beauty you speak of."

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth too, had been wandering among the corridors of Bast. It was a strange and lonely place to which he no longer had any belonging to. His hands were dripping with warm red fluid. He placed his fingers against the stone wall, smearing some of the blood as he passed. It seemed as if the castle longed to have blood shed upon its floors once more. He had appeased it by slaying a clone of the Jedi Knight Fire Hazzard. She had kept him company for a long time, but ultimately she went mad (as most clones do). Perhaps the same thing was also happening to Slayn...

The winged Dark Jedi took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. The lack of purpose ripped at him. He would very soon need to carry out another grim, unpleasant, and necessary task.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville heard voices in the hallway ahead of her, and slowed her steps, trying to hear what was being said. The echoes were horrible, bending words and changing inflections, until it was just a mumble of whispers.

She kept walking towards the voices, not sure what was going on. However, she had to go this way to get to her rooms. De'Ville kept walking, nearing a turn in the passage as the voices grew louder. The beings near her were familiar. Eaven, Goblin, and the senior Cloak. She walked around the corner.

[Jehova Eaven]

"Appreciation of beauty..." he repeated. His fingers gently stroked the work of art on the wall. This painting seemed different from the others in the hall. It felt... cold and distant. It was much like he was feeling. He ripped the painting with his finger nails.

"Some show appreciation in different ways." His eyes never left the painting. "Hello Jeseth."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Some," Hob said, eyeing the now-torn painting. "Are more foolish than others."

[Jeseth Cloak]

"And some," interrupted Jeseth, "don't take into consideration the consequences of their actions." Jehova was seething with anger at Hob's comment - The painting was torn... worthless - and Hob seemed to be displeased by the destruction of such a timeless heirloom. Jeseth breathed a deep sigh and leaned against the wall opposite the painting, staring at it.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Precisely my point, Jeseth," Hob said quietly. He let the words hang in the air before turning an arched eye onto the being who had interrupted him. "Destroyed, the painting is of no use to anyone. Had Jehova instead turned that anger upon his enemies, it would have been a far greater end."

The dwarf hmmphed and tottered a few steps along. "But such was his decision to make," the dwarf remarked over his shoulder. He smiled crookedly. "Bound are we, by the consequences of our actions."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville simply stood still, watching the males in the room, unnoticed as of yet. Jehova tore the painting, and she shook her head silently. He was reckless, but even the reckless had their place in the Force.

"And who, pray tell, are his enemies in this room?" She stepped forward, the three men turning towards her. "The painting can be repaired, if it distresses you that much."

[Jehova Eaven]

"No one here is worthy enough to be my enemy, but if you wish I would be willing to make an exception for you, Hob." he said while turning to face the tiny man. There was a slight sneer on Jehova's face. This midget had been trying his patience for quite some time, and unfortunately for him patience was not one of his strong points.

"Hello De'Ville." he momentarily regained his composure as his eyes left the dwarf. "This work of 'art' will not be repaired. I shall replace it with a piece of my own."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She nodded to Eaven, and shrugged. "I was talking to the Goblin."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob cackled. It was as though none of them could read between each other's lines. Perhaps it was simply ignorance on their part, or perhaps Hob himself was delusional and seeing things not there. Either way, all would see their own truths revealed, in time.

"Worthy to be allies, brothers in the Force, but not to be enemies," he mused. "Most curious, that is."

"What distresses me, De'Ville," he said, again over his shoulder. "Is not the loss of a painting. Fading loyalty, I perceive. If Jehova forgets the Hand not, all is well. If abandon it, he does..."

Hob allowed his words to trail off, then began to walk away. "Both Hand and Jehova shall lose," he finished.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She chuckled at the small one's departure, and turned to regard Jehova. "The Hand is more than any one member. It will not suffer greatly at his departure. Goblin! You pretend to know too much."

De'Ville walked up to Jehova, and reached out to touch his face. He flinched away, but didn't push her hand away. She smiled, and let her hand fall without touching him. "Beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder Eaven. Remember that."