Hopefully this is going to post without issue, i've noticed a lot of complaints about the blogs being tempremental lately, so fingers crossed this works. Guess you'll see one way or the other ;)

If you are looking for previous chapters, they can be found in my blog history, each one backdated and with the same title/corresponding chapter.
As always, thanks for reading, and if you do...please review ;)



Now:
The heady scent of incense clung to the air more heavily than the noticeable tang of sacrificial blood. But its metallic after-scent was still rather obvious, depending on how close one got to the shallow spatter-pit, hollowed out of the yorik coral in the centre of the chamber. At the head of the chamber, upon a glistening coral alter, stood the horrific form of an effigy that portrayed the likeness of the cloaked goddess, Yun-Harla. Her features hidden from all, as she never revealed her true self, she was adorned with various unsavoury offerings, some more grizzly than others.
To either side of her, a variant of the blaze bug beat its wings furiously, creating a red-hued light from it?s abdomen as it did so. The only noise in the chamber being that, accompanied with the delicate sound of blood still dripping from the effigy it's self.

Before the alter, seated cross legged on a polyp, Harrar, Priest of Yun-Harla meditated serenely on the events of the past few days. He had not liked the laborious lie he had told his old friend one little bit. But such was the tasks of one such as he. Still, he wondered even as he had seen the warmaster's villip evert, had Tsavong Lah suspected? Certainly that had never been the case when he'd had cause to be frugal with the truth before now. Warriors saw what they wanted to see, and Harrar had merely offered a more favourable outcome. But also, he had to consider that Tsavong Lah, was a master of the multi layered deception through tactics himself?.he'd learned from the best.

All of this by no means meant that Harrar would forget the task that Tsavong Lah had set him. Even now he was making head-way in the hunt for Jaina Solo.

The feint sounds of feet scuffing on the living floor brought him out of his silent reverie. He had asked his body guard, Neeka Sot, only to disturb him if it was something that was of great importance. This was why Harrar looked so surprised to see a subaltern standing before him, a grim expression set upon her features. Harrar motioned for her to speak.

"Forgive me eminence, the warmaster's villip has everted, he requests he speak with you at once,"

The priest"s blood momentarily ran cold. Did he suspect more than he had originally thought? Harrar was quick to reign in his thoughts, outwardly displaying no change in his posture or expression. He was the perfect picture of severe calm.
"Then I shall be there at once." He responded coolly, rising soon after.

Moments later, he found himself before the horrifically mutilated visage of Tsavong Lah.
The warmaster gave little in the way of a greeting as the subaltern left Harrar alone, sealed in a privacy chamber. Even via villip, Tsavong Lah commanded much of a great presence, so much so, that Harrar found it hard to believe that this was the same warrior who he had shared a youth with, who had once watched over the dormitories of the deception sect as one of his first duties as a warrior.
Those days seemed long gone.
'Yun-Harla,' he thought wearily, 'smile on me now'

"I trust I do not need to explain my contacting you now?" The warmaster began, "How do you fare in the pursuit of the female twin Solo?"

He did not show it, but inwardly Harrar relaxed considerably.
"She has departed from Hapes, warmaster, I have requested that two of the warriors stationed here track her?we are in the process of following that up as I speak." Not the most worthy of responses, Harrar knew, but some progress was better than none. It seemed enough.

" I do not need to inform you of the importance of her capture, friend, you know this as well as you know the gods impatience regarding this matter." Tsavong Lah intoned amid a deep growl.

Harrar noticed the warmaster's down-cast glance and seized the opportunity to comment.
"You are still concerned about the fate of your graft?"

So that still hung in the balance? Either way, the comment caught the warmaster's full attention, and his gaze snapped up as fast as an amphistaff strike to fix the slender priest in his sights.

"The gods shall have what they desire, then there will be no need for concern, will there?"

Harrar had not anticipated this somewhat multi-faceted question. Had he been of another sect, he would have undoubtedly shown his inner dismay. What did Tsavong Lah mean by that exactly? Was he reading too much into this? After all, Harrar had thought it himself when he'd made the observation of Tsavong Lah's cunning. Was this denial speaking or was it doubt? But truly, how could the warmaster have guessed the true outcome of what had transpired far out here?

"I am not sure I understand - " Harrar started, but was quickly cut off almost as soon as he started,

"Tell me again, 'priest,' of my son's fate." Tsavong Lah spoke Harrar's title as though it were some foul infidel word, good for only spitting out of one's mouth.
"I wish to have the details clarified for my own mind."
Again, each word was spoken with such precise severity, that even to an outsider the priest imagined it would have sounded like a threat.

Harrar collected his thoughts, took a long deep breath and prepared to explain once more -in detail - the version of events as he knew them. The version Yun-Harla had provided him with.

******

Then:

Why?
That had been the young warriors first thought. Why had he been sent out to this worldship to ?think? about his recent actions, when he should be training with the other warriors in readiness for the invasion soon to come.
Why?
He most of all. He was the warmaster's son, his place was in battle, not sitting out here like some cowardly brenzlit. What would his peers say if he ever returned? Could he return after this?

'Even the keenest of warriors must take the time to pay reverence to the gods.' His father had said, but Khalee Lah feared those were not the words of his father?s making. Rather, they had come from his grandfather in some last moment attempt to assert a display of rank and power in light of his rather sudden, but recent, demotion from warmaster.

A hint of a silent snarl twisted Khalee Lah's features more so than usual. If it had just been down to his father, he would not be here at all, he would have been escalated by now for his achievements, surely? And then he recalled the look he had seen in Tsavong Lah?s eyes, a look reserves especially for him, scrutinizing him, filled with disappointment. It had not always been like this, Khalee Lah thought. Once he knew only the look of encouraging pride each time he overcame an obstacle or excelled in his training compared to many of his peers.

In particular, he recalled the fiery pride his father had shown him, when he had bested a member of old rivals, domain Shai, in a training exercise involving amphistaff duels.
Naturally, he had been all but ready to finish his opponent, Shedao Shai ? who Khalee noted, had actually put up one of the more worthier fights he had engaged in - but Czulkang Lah had stepped in, claiming that they could not afford to lose good warriors through foolish squabbles, that there were few exceptions to this rule, save for sacrifice and actual challenges.
Khalee Lah could be content in the knowledge that his father, now warmaster, would find no place for such pitiful ideals.

But for all his fathers past approval, he remembered the day that had changed. Vividly so. The day his mother, Niif'rhi Hul, had died. He would never know the details of his mother?s death, only that Tsavong Lah deemed it not worthy of thought, let alone speaking of. He could not imagine what would have caused such a reaction besides heresy, perhaps a sub-form of this. His father was a devout follower of the true way, any deviation was punishable by death in his eyes. And as such, Khalee Lah dare not push the subject with his considerably fanatical father.
Whatever the cause, It had certainly hardened the warmsater's resolve, he had come down hard on Khalee Lah at the request of his former tutor, Czulkang Lah.

" Ah, Khalee Lah," A voice that sounded little more than a harsh whisper, filtered it?s way across the huge antechamber to reach the twisted and slashed ears of the young warrior.

Turning in the direction he had heard the words spoken, Khalee Lah's eyes met the source of the sound, in the form of a tall yet slightly build figure. Dressed in the voluminous trappings of a priest, originating from the deception sect, Khalee Lah supposed from this and the multiple, intricate scarring the Yuuzhan Vong male was adorned with, that this was indeed the old ?friend? his father had sent him to meet with.
As if sensing his curiosity, the priest inclined his head slightly, in a motion of respect he did not necessarily need to show one of Khalee's rank. Perhaps it was out of respect for his domain if nothing else.

"I am Harrar," He said, Palms turned outward, displaying deeply burned symbols in the flesh on each of his 3 fingered hands.

It was as Khalee Lah had suspected and everything about this priest screamed agony-born depravity. Had this one had a hand in his own father's fanatical tendencies? Perhaps his own being here would put an end to the warmasters doubt?

"Eminence Harrar, I am honoured," Khalee began as was required, but was soon silenced as the priest cut in,
" Indeed? The warmaster has spoken much of your short but, interesting, career." Harrar spoke the word 'interesting' as though it burned his tongue to do so, but his expression betrayed little or no vindictive or condescending thought behind it. Indeed, he was as important as he was, because Harrar was undoubtedly consummately devoted to his life within the deception sect. It showed in his every subtle action. And yet it did not, there was an art to that.

Being as young as he was and hardly having much to do with the priest caste, Harrar?s words were as perplexing as they were suggestive, it would not do Khalee Lah well to show anymore curiosity than he already had.
The young warrior lowered himself to one knee in a show of respect, duly noting the nod of approval from the priest, who then motioned for Khalee Lah to rise.

"Your father has requested that during your short stay here that you will learn the following..."
Khalee made a short, sharp sound of annoyance, what could he possibly learn from a priest? He was a warrior, his place was not here! And yet he had heard his father speak often of the cloaked goddess' hand in his tactics. The goddess that this one worshipped above all. Perhaps there was something to be gained here after all?

"... You lack the subtlety that all warriors, who wish to advance, need in order to pursue and formulate the best of plans, with which to overcome their adversaries." Harrar went on, ignoring Khalee Lah?s absent minded expression ? he would learn or he would fail ? there was no answer besides this.
Harrar has come to wonder if Tsavong Lah had reached the same conclusion? Else why send his son to him when Czulkang Lah had clearly dismissed the lad?

"I will speak freely and honestly when I say that your father has expressed his concern that, while you have taken in battle, you have very rarely given." Harrar Surmised.

Khalee Lah looked more than a tad vexed, confusion wrinkinling his brow around the horn-implant that protruded from his skull. The priest decided to explain rather than to let this one make his own mind up.

" The gods have so clearly displayed their pleasure with your actions, by allowing you continual victory. But in recent times, others, such as the warmaster, have become concerned, as have I, that you have offered little in thanks for the god's approval. Nor their granting you victory above all else."

The young warrior stood motionless, his eyes narrowing slightly as a pensive expression crept across his scarred features. Was this really the cause of all his recent woes? Or was this something furnished by his grandfather and passed on to Tsavong Lah in order to eliminate rivals within his own domain? Such things were not unheard of. He certainly knew the former warmaster was displeased with being taken out of the direct battle field, especially with the imminent invasion drawing closer by the cycle. Still, Khalee Lah dare not question it openly, if Harrar spoke the truth, then best he not offend the gods further and land himself in the preverbal maw luur.
Either way, he would prove his domain wrong, he would exceed their pitiful expectations of him, to become greater than many in his domain ever had. That would silence their discontentment and foolish criticism. And just maybe, he would earn his fathers approval back.

"What must I do?" Khalee Lah finally asked, a new found clarity shining bright and determined in his eyes.

Harrar pressed his lips into a thin line, before allowing a slight smile to adorn them. Progress at last,

"All of Yun-Yuuzhan?s children must make sacrifices, even the elite." He motioned with one gnarled, three fingered hand, toward the entrance membrane at the back of the chamber.
Noting the young warriors sudden hesitance, Harrar then made an ushering gesture adding,

"Come, it is through pain that we are brought closer to the gods, and if you are to understand the other lessons that I have spoken of, then you must first understand this."

The warrior drew himself up to an imposing height, haughtily so.
"I do not fear pain of sacrifice. If this is what the gods ask, then it shall be done."

He then proceeded to cross the room in few large strides, standing before the entrance membrane as he waited for it to dilate fully before entering the chamber beyond.
Behind him, Harrar breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been dubious about taking on what would be a painstaking task at the very least. But this had been easier than he had imagined. There was still some hope of closing the painfully wide gap between the warrior and other castes then?