Moriah
Dec 11th, 2003, 10:13:43 AM
{OOC: Just a note: This thread is open to anyone who wishes to join. Avner is a played character, played by my fiance, so please do not post that your character knows him or anything. Any questions at all, please pm me :) If there are any characters here who are vampiric or of the necromancer, please pm me. We need you :)}
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There are bounty hunters roaming the galaxy, working for various employers, to 'solve' certain issues that arise daily. Whether the bounty hunters are to bring in their capture alive or dead is solely up to the employer. Of course, there are instances that occur that prevent the bounty hunter from carrying out specific details of the contract, and these instances result in the death of the hunted.
To keep some sort of order amongst the bounty hunters, a Bounty Hunter's Guild had been established many, many years ago. Perhaps it was out of convenience, but many mercenaries took to following the bounty hunter's guild and code, until, eventually, the mercenaries established their own set of rules, their own code and their own way of existence. The one main difference between the bounty hunters and the mercenaries is this: Mercenaries are hired killers. They do not bring back their quarries alive. Ever.
The galaxy has law and order to help keep things in check. From local, city and state to national, wordly and interstellar commerce, everything has its place. But who keeps the assassins, or hired killers if you will, in order? The majority of the peoples do not know the answer to this. The majority of the peoples probably don't put much thought into it, either. A shame, really. Thankfully, there were a few; many, many, many years ago, who did put much thought into it - thus 'The Conclave' - was created.
Led by ex-mercenaries who make up the Council of Elders, they scoured the worlds for those whom they could initiate into 'The Conclave'. Very choosey (No, not just anyone could join The Conclave), these nine men spent over twenty years traveling to different planets, meeting with certain types of peoples and honing the skills of those they initiated. Most members of this secret sect possess force use. Though, there are many who do not. These are the beings who are well versed in what the galaxy has come to call 'Sith Magicks' or followers of 'The Black Arts.'
Moriah falls into the latter category. If one must classify a being into either Light, Dark, or Neutral ... Moriah most likely falls into either the dark or the neutral. Since the age of six months, she's been raised amongst magick users, having inherited a special talent for the manipulation of fire. There are those who can only bend the flames to their will, and there are those who can create a spark and fan it; causing it to grow so that they may shape, bend and control every aspect of the deadly flames. Moriah's skills fall into the latter of this, as well.
At the age of roughly twenty-three years, Moriah's training continues. The flames are like second nature to her, but there are other areas of the magicks that must be learned and it takes a lifetime of continual training and learning before one can dare call themselves a 'master'. Unlike the Jedi, magicians of 'The Conclave' are not 'promoted' to the rank of Master until the pupil is well into their forties; and even then, if the Teacher deems his/her pupil is able to pass the test and move on to the deadly ritual. Unlike the Jedi, the magick users of The Conclave do not protect the innocent, they do not believe that the force resides in every living, breathing thing and they find the Jedi code to be filled with nothing but hypocracies.
Magicians of The Conclave do not believe the codes for the Sith or Dark Jedi either, but instead they have their own code. Should a member of The Conclave break or violate any part of the code and their laws, they are to be killed immediately. Should a member of The Conclave ever flee or become ex-communicated from The Order, they are to be hunted down and killed immediately.
This may sound harsh to those who do not understand the ways of The Conclave and The Order or to those who are valuers of life and all that is sacred. The Order of The Conclave is not for those who are faint at heart. Assassins must be kept in line and that is the root of the existence of The Order of The Conclave.
The path that Moriah walks has been intercepted by one known as Avner - or - 'The Mysterious One', as she has come to addressing him as. Something about this man has drawn her to him, pulled her into his world with such force that she has been unable to resist aiding him.
They met a year ago in a seedy, smoke-filled tavern/inn. The location doesn't matter, really. You've seen one smoke-filled tavern/inn, you've seen them all. It was crowded the night their paths merged, but that didn't mean a thing. Moriah had been following the trail of an excommunicated member of The Order of The Conclave known as Riktar VonStahl; a dangerous ex-member of The Order and one that had to be killed as soon as he could be found. Every ex-member is a potential threat to the existence of The Order of The Conclave, but VonStahl was perhaps the most dangerous to date. What earned him the ritual of excommunication cannot be repeated, for his crimes are far too heinous to ever be spoken aloud. What does matter at this point is the fact that Riktar's proven to be far more dangerous than anyone ever thought due the company he keeps these days.
"What a tangled web we weave, Avner.", Moriah murmurs just above a whisper as the two sit at the bar of yet another seedy, smoke-filled tavern/inn. Her eyes, like pools of swirling molten copper, affix upon the eyes of Avner in the grimy mirror behind the bar. His eyes - amythyst in color yet they seem to house an entire galaxy; always in motion, almost hypnotic.
"Riktar has ties to the one you hunt. Or should I say - to the one who hunts you." Avner and Moriah, a lovely couple to those casual observers, but the song and dance they share with each other is rather intricate and delicate; one they both seem to enjoy greatly.
Moriah looks away from Avner's reflection, skimming a glance over the reflections of the patrons currently occupying the tavern/inn. Someone, perhaps a few someone's amongst the crowd, was watching them and watching them closely.
**********
There are bounty hunters roaming the galaxy, working for various employers, to 'solve' certain issues that arise daily. Whether the bounty hunters are to bring in their capture alive or dead is solely up to the employer. Of course, there are instances that occur that prevent the bounty hunter from carrying out specific details of the contract, and these instances result in the death of the hunted.
To keep some sort of order amongst the bounty hunters, a Bounty Hunter's Guild had been established many, many years ago. Perhaps it was out of convenience, but many mercenaries took to following the bounty hunter's guild and code, until, eventually, the mercenaries established their own set of rules, their own code and their own way of existence. The one main difference between the bounty hunters and the mercenaries is this: Mercenaries are hired killers. They do not bring back their quarries alive. Ever.
The galaxy has law and order to help keep things in check. From local, city and state to national, wordly and interstellar commerce, everything has its place. But who keeps the assassins, or hired killers if you will, in order? The majority of the peoples do not know the answer to this. The majority of the peoples probably don't put much thought into it, either. A shame, really. Thankfully, there were a few; many, many, many years ago, who did put much thought into it - thus 'The Conclave' - was created.
Led by ex-mercenaries who make up the Council of Elders, they scoured the worlds for those whom they could initiate into 'The Conclave'. Very choosey (No, not just anyone could join The Conclave), these nine men spent over twenty years traveling to different planets, meeting with certain types of peoples and honing the skills of those they initiated. Most members of this secret sect possess force use. Though, there are many who do not. These are the beings who are well versed in what the galaxy has come to call 'Sith Magicks' or followers of 'The Black Arts.'
Moriah falls into the latter category. If one must classify a being into either Light, Dark, or Neutral ... Moriah most likely falls into either the dark or the neutral. Since the age of six months, she's been raised amongst magick users, having inherited a special talent for the manipulation of fire. There are those who can only bend the flames to their will, and there are those who can create a spark and fan it; causing it to grow so that they may shape, bend and control every aspect of the deadly flames. Moriah's skills fall into the latter of this, as well.
At the age of roughly twenty-three years, Moriah's training continues. The flames are like second nature to her, but there are other areas of the magicks that must be learned and it takes a lifetime of continual training and learning before one can dare call themselves a 'master'. Unlike the Jedi, magicians of 'The Conclave' are not 'promoted' to the rank of Master until the pupil is well into their forties; and even then, if the Teacher deems his/her pupil is able to pass the test and move on to the deadly ritual. Unlike the Jedi, the magick users of The Conclave do not protect the innocent, they do not believe that the force resides in every living, breathing thing and they find the Jedi code to be filled with nothing but hypocracies.
Magicians of The Conclave do not believe the codes for the Sith or Dark Jedi either, but instead they have their own code. Should a member of The Conclave break or violate any part of the code and their laws, they are to be killed immediately. Should a member of The Conclave ever flee or become ex-communicated from The Order, they are to be hunted down and killed immediately.
This may sound harsh to those who do not understand the ways of The Conclave and The Order or to those who are valuers of life and all that is sacred. The Order of The Conclave is not for those who are faint at heart. Assassins must be kept in line and that is the root of the existence of The Order of The Conclave.
The path that Moriah walks has been intercepted by one known as Avner - or - 'The Mysterious One', as she has come to addressing him as. Something about this man has drawn her to him, pulled her into his world with such force that she has been unable to resist aiding him.
They met a year ago in a seedy, smoke-filled tavern/inn. The location doesn't matter, really. You've seen one smoke-filled tavern/inn, you've seen them all. It was crowded the night their paths merged, but that didn't mean a thing. Moriah had been following the trail of an excommunicated member of The Order of The Conclave known as Riktar VonStahl; a dangerous ex-member of The Order and one that had to be killed as soon as he could be found. Every ex-member is a potential threat to the existence of The Order of The Conclave, but VonStahl was perhaps the most dangerous to date. What earned him the ritual of excommunication cannot be repeated, for his crimes are far too heinous to ever be spoken aloud. What does matter at this point is the fact that Riktar's proven to be far more dangerous than anyone ever thought due the company he keeps these days.
"What a tangled web we weave, Avner.", Moriah murmurs just above a whisper as the two sit at the bar of yet another seedy, smoke-filled tavern/inn. Her eyes, like pools of swirling molten copper, affix upon the eyes of Avner in the grimy mirror behind the bar. His eyes - amythyst in color yet they seem to house an entire galaxy; always in motion, almost hypnotic.
"Riktar has ties to the one you hunt. Or should I say - to the one who hunts you." Avner and Moriah, a lovely couple to those casual observers, but the song and dance they share with each other is rather intricate and delicate; one they both seem to enjoy greatly.
Moriah looks away from Avner's reflection, skimming a glance over the reflections of the patrons currently occupying the tavern/inn. Someone, perhaps a few someone's amongst the crowd, was watching them and watching them closely.