Krath Inmortos Posted January 16, 2022 Share Posted January 16, 2022 (edited) ORGANIZATIONAL TITLE: The Brethren (or Brotherhood) of The Sacred Bowl *referred to as “The Order” by it’s members ORGANIZATION TYPE: Insular Amoral Dark Side Religious Fraternity MEMBERS: Approximately 30 monastic acolytes known as Apostles LOCATION: Deep within wilderness of Ryloth’s side of eternal night AFFILIATION: Dark Side Worshippers, Diviners, Treasure Hunters POWERS/ABILITIES: Divination, Longevity, Memory Manipulation, Dark Side Controlled Hive Mind, Treasure Hunting & Hoarding ICON(S): A dark side infused bowl bound to the core of the planet containing an elixir of liquified dark side magic _____________________ SANCTUARY: On the dark side of Ryloth, a daunting stone sanctuary looms upwards on the rocky plains. It is invisible to the naked eye except for the dull yellow light that shines through the monastery’s windows. Not that it matters though, no one ever comes wandering this far from the habitable zone willingly. Just to get here required more than a day’s journey by speeder. The rocky terrain all but prevents anything larger than a single-seated snub fighter from landing anywhere within a survivable walking distance. Inside, great fires radiate heat to keep the cold of the Nightlands at bay. Their heat barely touched the furthest reaching quarters; making them habitable, if frigid. This alone made the quarters used for little more than sleeping beneath great piles of furred blankets. The majority of the time, acolytes were found in the great sanctuary, tending the fires, or working in adjacent rooms. The thick wooden doors enter directly into the sanctuary, timeless and worn. They rarely open and never to unknown travelers. This fact alone has contributed to the death of the few who have stumbled across their locale. _____________________ RESIDENTS: The resident Apostles of The Sacred Bowl number barely more than thirty. They hail from across the galaxy and never more than one from any particular race or world. To have more than one would be to taint the seasoning of the maker. The head of the order is currently a wizened human from Coruscant who sports a white beard that he keeps tucked into the belt about his waist. The acolytes of the order are all adorned in thick gray fur-lined robes of black. The furs harvested from predatory beasts that creep about the Nightlands. Force use by the residents is not a requirement for acceptance; although to lead, one must be. Over the ages that the order has existed, these users have augmented their sanctuary of solitude to withstand all manner of outward attack. Upon acceptance into the Order, each Apostle undergoes a 12-year indoctrination in which they are purged of all but the most basic life sustaining memories from their past lives. Each memory is carefully replaced with one divined from The Bowl to make the acolyte feel as if they have been within the walls of their sanctuary for eternity. A byproduct of this extremely painful process is an extremely extended life expectancy and resistance to disease. Although some of that may come from living at near freezing temperatures for so long. To be accepted, adherents must show that they possess powers of divination or sufficient funds so as to be used by the order to attempt to regain their former glory. Apostles of the order skilled in any of the plethora of types of divinations across the galaxy are sought after by those who have heard of the Brethren, of which there are few; for they are known for their abilities to find lost items of value and to predict the way in which a petitioner would die. Of course, this comes at great cost, and those who cannot pay for the services are killed for their heresy. _____________________ BELIEFS, HISTORY, & ICON: The Brethren of The Sacred Bowl cling to a dogma that they claim was unearthed alongside a crystallized skeleton beneath their shrine. Using the force, the founders of the order learned how to manipulate the crystals of the skeleton to craft exquisite tools, constructing a smooth receiving platform. Calling upon the force and amplifying their strength with the crystals, the founders were able to summon supplies and equipment to them from across the known and unknown universe, amassing great wealth that they hoarded within their frigid halls. They continued to raid the galaxy from the safety of their shrine for centuries, stealing priceless treasures and baubles from any that they might divine with their sacred rituals. This continued, and would have carried on unendingly, had the order not stumbled across a void in the galaxy. Deep below the Unknown Regions, a black void prevented the divinations of the order. Using the crystalized skeleton to enhance their powers to channel their sight, the members of the order were able to catch a shadowy glimpse of a table set with simple wares shrouded in shadows. It was for but a moment before the darkness blocked them out again despite any attempts at enhancement. Growing desperate, the diviners opted to do the unthinkable. They would attempt to blindly tear the table and wares from their original location to their own without knowing their exact location. Such was their thirst for the power they believed such items would convey to the holders. Uniting, the diviners encircled their summoning disc and began to chant, cutting themselves and drenching the crystals in the life-power of their own blood. The crystals glowed and dark vortexes began to open calling across the known galaxy seeking the items of their desire. It was then, that all went wrong. A massive clap of thunder exploded as eruptions of pure force energy erupted from the crystalized bones as they fractured and shattered into dust. The acolytes were thrown for miles and the winds of Ryloth increased with unholy fury. As they picked themselves up, crawling back to their shrine the faithful found it in shambles. More importantly, the summoning platform was cracked into thirty different pieces. In the center sat a blackened bowl filled to the brim with an even darker elixir. Try as they might, the crystalline dust was lost to the wind and the platform unable to ever be mended. The bowl sat atop a jagged rectangular slab permanently fused to the soil and stones of the planet. It was tethered by dark side energies to the core of the planet. The only way to free it would be to crack the world itself in half, just as the order did when they originally summoned the bowl to them. Unable to even lift the bowl or move it in any way, the diviners set about trying to rebuild their fractured existence. Using the jagged remains of the platform, stones hewn from the Nightlands, and peddling their treasures for other necessities, the sanctuary that now stands was constructed in hopes of crafting a new channelling device. They failed. The bowl was smooth and unadorned. It’s surface was black and unreflecting of any light. It was almost as if it drew light inward. Inside, the even darker blackened elixir radiated the dark side of the force on it’s scorched fumes, casting a veil in the force over the entire area. Try as they may, the elixir always remained at the same level, even if one sought to drain the bowl. In times of great stress or danger, the liquid would ripple as if reacting to unseen vibrations in the force. At times, the bowl would begin to steam, releasing poisonous vapors in billows that would cause any who inhaled them to collapse and burst like pressurized bags of blood and bodily fluid. The only way to keep the vapors at bay were regular infusions of sentient blood into the elixir. Every member was required to infuse the elixir with their own life bloods, connecting their very lives to that of the bowl becoming less and less individualistic and more a member of a shadowy interconnected hive mind dedicated to the service of The Sacred Bowl. _____________________ Today, the order exists as a shadow of what their own legends paint them to be. They seek to regain that power by any means necessary, purchasing crystals and profane knowledge in attempts to divine a path back to their former glory. All the while, they work in near silent labors endeavoring to bring about an unseen goal placed longingly in their hearts by The Bowl. Edited January 17, 2022 by Krath Inmortos Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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