Star Wars: Legends of the Old Republic
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Vnela se je vojna med Republiko in podporniki Darth Pride! Prve bitke so se odvile, prvi spopadi so se končali, in prvi svetovi so padli. A kako se bo ta vojna končala? To je odvisno le od vas samih...
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Mon Calamari je padel, republiška infiltracijska enota na Korribanu pa je doživela popoln in smrtonosen konec. Medtem ko si Republika liže rane Darth Pride že pripravlja maščevanje za žalitev, ki jo je izzval napad na Korriban. Le kakšno presenečenje njen sprevržen um pripravlja zdaj?

A ta čas pa so Jediji odkrili podatek, ki lahko obrne potek celotne vojne. Pa ga bodo izkoristili? Kako naj ukrepajo?

Le na en način boste izvedeli...

Če so kakršnakoli vprašanja, imate za to namenjeno TOLE TEMO.
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Female Število prispevkov : 481
Kraj : Turn around.
Registration date : 10/04/2011

Character sheet
Vrsta: Človek
Starost: 25
Poklic: Lovec na glave

Tempelj - Page 2 Empty
ObjavljaNaslov sporočila: Re: Tempelj   Tempelj - Page 2 Icon_minitimeTor Jan 22, 2013 4:44 am

He had set himself to work immediately after taking the refreshing, morning-after shower. He had little time to lose, as Pride had given him barely more than a day to construct his own lightsaber. At the thought of this, his mind soared and he stepped with renewed speed and vigor towards the Dark Temple in which he knew resided the forge and furnace needed to create the crystal and subsequently the whole blade. His smile widened and with a final turn to the left, accompanied by a slight wave of his hand, he was stepping through the grand doors of the Ziost temple. He sped through the chambers he'd seen before and never stopped for a moment until his eyes finally rested on the intricately ornamented door that led to the chamber.

He was humming slightly when he finally set foot upon the cold, black marble floor of the spacious room. The walls were adorned in eons old murals and ancient Sith writing was carved into the dark stone. He shook his head at the almost morbid – or at the very least humbling – atmosphere and let his gaze trail across the shelves that were stacked with countless ore, metals, lens, focusing and augmentation crystals, emitting cells and much, much more. Oh yes, he'd done the research. He'd done all the research that his level of access had allowed him to in the library that stretched out behind his very back. He'd spent numerous nights reading the paled texts on the half-putrefied paper and listening to the angry holocrons give out their knowledge with as little cooperation as possible. What a frustrating period that was! But at least now he knew more or less everything he could about the creation of the crystal and the lightsaber itself. So why wait?

He was already hard at work when a slight tap to his shoulder broke his concentration. He turned around to see Azaria smirking slowly next to him, so he shook his head and without words went back to picking the right ore for the crystal. There was such a thing as too much focus and its obvious disadvantages, obviously. The time few by as they kept on working in complete silence, for most of the time ignoring each other totally, unless something the other needed was in the hands of the first. And even then they mostly communicated with hand gestures, as speaking would only serve to break their concentration, and that was the last thing any of them wanted.

As many times before when he practiced Force meditation, he could feel only barely when his contact with the floor ceased and he began to levitate. It was a curious sensation the first few times, but now he'd almost gotten used to it; well, he always was a very adaptive person. Despite the heat isolation in the furnace, he could feel the faint warmth caressing his skin as it was wafting off the blazing forces in the depths of the forge. His eyes were closed and his mind a picture of focus, his face contorted in determination. He knew what he wanted, after all; he'd decided quite some time ago. After completing his research, he weighed all the pros and cons of the various metals, ore, lightsaber shapes and, of course, the augmentation crystals. Combining them with his fighting style was needless to say essential, but he wanted to have something to fall back on if his usual strategies proved to be useless. Be prepared for everything, he reminded himself with a stern inner voice and pressed onward.

He never noticed when night fell, and even if he were aware enough of his surroundings, he couldn't have; they were deep in the bowels of the Dark Temple, where no windows were present. Despite having spent much of his previous night enjoying other activities than sleep, he never felt the least bit tired. In retrospective, he presumed it was from all the adrenaline and the sheer focus the task at hand had required, but at the moment, he felt consumed by it, not wanting – not even daring – to let go for a single second. The first sunlight was already creeping over the horizon and across the iced plains of Ziost when the fires finally fell dark and he felt the crystal reach its maturity, its completion; and just as the furnace, he slipped into sleep immediately, stealing two precious hours of rest while it was cooling.

When it had become cold enough for him to pull it out and examine it, he had already seen its exact color and form; it was perfect. In the hue of a Laigrek's eye and thin, sharp edged, it was just what he needed; a compressed synth-crystal. His lips stretched into a grin and with something akin to giddiness he raised it up to the artificial light-source on the ceiling, just to see how it reflected and absorbed the rays. "Beautiful," he stated simply and let it down on his workbench gently, with care. It was time for the second stage of lightsaber construction.

Oh, how he had poured over the various components and the myriad of differing versions they came in. How was he to choose? Even though he was generally grateful that the reserves of Lady Pride offered such a wide selection, right now he hated it. He didn't know whether to specialize his lightsaber, adapt it to a certain type of fighting, or to give it something field. Shaking his head, he decided to go with what he'd decided when all the options were still fresh in his mind. With a steady hand he lined up the needed pieces in front of him on the table, checking if everything was present; and if he was himself enough to do it all in one run. "Good," he muttered and closed his eyes, his fingers starting to dance.

He levitated the inner plasteel chassis in which he planned to implement all the other components, starting with the primary crystal mount. With gentle precision he placed the magnetized bed between the dimmed metal plates and in succession levitated the red crystal itself to place it into the apparatus. Other pieces followed, one by one: first the phobium emitter and next to it the blade arc tip, then the ossus dueling lens slipped in, fitting perfectly. After the three came the two unbelievably important pieces; the augmentation crystals. The first was a finely cut Upari with a slightly bluish hue to it, and the second was a luminescent silver Sapith crystal. The choice had been hard, but he was satisfied with it, for it negated some of the weaknesses of the compressed red focusing crystal, while at the same time further fortifying its advantages. Finally he added the diatium power cell and its inert power insulator, topping it with a slightly heavier pommel cap in which lay hidden a back-up power cell. He aligned all the components with care and caution, wrapping everything in a protective layer of thin, coarse plasteel that provided good grip to the hand. Right under the simple emitter shroud were the dials and the power knob, all of them only slightly raised from the metal shell as to not be nudged by accident. He finalized the lightsaber by pouring all of his remaining force into its creation, making sure that every wire was connected and everything was screwed tight and isolated without flaw.

With a sigh, he let it touch the workbench once again, now in the form of a simple lightsaber. The alloy he'd used was matte and slightly darkened; he hated shiny things. He had kept it simple, adding no decoration whatsoever, for he felt it needed be effective, not pretty. What was the use otherwise? The hunter reached out and wrapped his tired fingers around the rough metal of the grip and slid his thumb hard across the power knob. The red blade arced to life, hissing with its typical sound.

He smirked.
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