Star Wars New Sith Trials I *Voted Best RPG Summer 2016*

Combo with Darth Haretisch
IC: Kwea Acantha
Great Temple, Great Hall/Central Foyer


She felt the temple tremble under her feet and Kwea figured a hangar had been destroyed. Whether or not it was by the enemy or her own people, she did not know. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haretisch walk towards a doorway that led to the Central Foyer. She shot down some of the last troopers, hoping Octavius would finish them off completely. Suddenly, a ripple in the Force went through her. At once, she knew her former master was in trouble. Her comm crackled and his voice, gasping and filled with pain, came through. "To the central foyer, quickly,” were his orders.
Kwea ran. Her feet pounded against the floor until she skidded to a halt in front of a male-like figure holding an activated red lightsaber.

“Well… aren’t you a cutie? Now can you please move so I can go help someone? There aren’t many times that I’m helpful so I think you should give me a chance...”
Letting her sentence trail off, Kwea ignited her own purple saber and with a quick spin of the blade, aimed for this person’s torso.

The disciple said nothing as Kwea approached, instead simply leveling his lightsaber at her with a single hand and parrying her attack with a flick. He caught her in a blade lock and pressed in, then pushed her weapon high and adroitly darted in and under, aiming to bring his knee up into her midsection. He had no intention of dispatching her quickly. He would draw out the suffering the same as Eranikus was slowly dismantling his own quarry.

Her comments were left unanswered and suddenly, her blade was locked against his creating a brilliant glare of purple and red. He pushed her weapon above her head and Kwea knew what he was going to attempt. Her midsection was unguarded. His knee went up and she used the Force to aid her. She pushed down on her blade, against his as well, aiming for his knee. As she pushed, she grunted against the strong blade lock.

Sparks burst from the disciple's armor as his upper leg met a scorching lightsaber blade. He shifted just quickly enough to keep it from biting in deeply, but a fair amount of damage had been done nonetheless. Enraged, he pushed off hard to break the blade lock and punctuated it with a force push which would send her staggering.

He showed no signs of pain, despite the wound. It was a nasty, jagged thing, a hole in his leg plate which revealed a charred, gaping laceration just above his knee. Charcoal gray skin peeked from around the edges of his rent pant leg as he strode in to pursue. He stood tall, a head taller than Kwea at least, and lithe. His limbs were long, gangly even, and his build hid a wiry, vicious strength which could be felt in every attack. He moved in quickly now, his black cape swirling behind as he spun and brought his lightsaber down onto Kwea with withering power.

Leaving a wound on his leg, Kwea felt satisfied but she warned herself not to get cocky. That had been the fault of many Sith before her. She was quickly thrown back with a Force push from him and the blade lock broke. Kwea landed in a heap on the floor but quickly scrambled up, collecting herself and calling her saber to her hand once again. This trooper was coming towards her, a cape flowing behind him with each purposeful stride. He swirled and brought his blade down but she brought hers up in time to block it. Using all her might and both hands to push it against him, she tried to push him back. Her eyes glowed even more golden then they had been during the mass slaughter or the chrome troopers. Mid-push, she remembered what she had done in her recent visit to the catacombs. She had conquered her doppelgänger in her mind as she focused on her pain and anger. Kwea saw that this was how she had to kick this trooper's butt. Draw from her anger, draw from her pain, and with that, she drew from them and shoved her saber hard, pressing to bring his blade down so that she could turn behind him and stab his back.

The disciple's body lurched as the violet beam pierced between his shoulder blades, and then emerged from the middle of his chest. His lightsaber hilt clattered to the floor as his grip went slack, and without a sound he fell on his face. For a moment, Kwea's victory would seem too easy.

Until large hands seized her from behind, one clutching almost painfully around the wrist of her sword arm to hold it in place. The other wasn't a hand but rather an entire, powerful arm, wrapped tightly around her neck. Her throat would rest in the crook of the assailant's elbow as he squeezed to pinch off the blood flow to her brain, hoping she wouldn't stay awake long.

It was Octavius.

"Just please go to sleep," he pleaded. "This wasn't what I wanted," he spoke in anger, but softly nonetheless. "It wasn't supposed to be this messy, they lied to me. They said it would be quick," he continued to lament, now yanking her roughly up and off of the ground. The entirety of her body weight would now rest on her neck alone, and she would begin to grow lightheaded. Still with one free hand, she had to act quickly or she would lose consciousness.

Striking the man down, Kwea did a little victory hop before she felt her right arm yanked back and a muscular harm hook around her neck, dragging her up off the ground. Octavius' voice rung in her ears as her vision began to dim and she struggled to breath. He begged her to die and his voice was confused as he babbled on about how the Sith lied to him. Using her left hand, she slowly slipped her hand under her utility belt which had two tiny dagger strapped to the inside. Unhooking one, she slowly withdrew it and as she kicked Octavius' shins, she shoved the dagger in towards his side.

Octavius yelped at the pain blazing through his shins, and was quite unprepared for what came next. As the dagger found a space between ribs and slipped through, Kwea was instantly released and the traitor all but collapsed crookedly with dagger still embedded. He cried out and came to rest on bended knee, pawing at the handle and starting to pull it out before thinking better of it. The wound was terminal - he had been a warrior long enough to know this without question - and though he quivered with agony it was nothing approaching the despair he felt within. It was a hopeless feeling; the slow, creeping realization that with his death, he would not be remembered as a champion of justice, but as an agent of treachery just the same as any common Sith.

Released to the floor, Kwea shook her head to clear it. Her vision was filled with dots and her throat stung. Octavius was on bended knee, trying to dislodge the dagger she had pierced him with. Kwea knew what she must do but her heart was trying to dissuade her.

"Why? I trusted you. Haretisch trusted you. You've let the Sith down and here you are complaining that they lied to you. You've lied to yourself, Octavius. You knew what the Sith were when you joined and you never left the light at the door because you told yourself you could stay the same. I should have seen this coming."

Slowly pacing around him, Kwea was oblivious to the fact that the Night Herald was probably being squashed and that she was supposed to be helping him. Stooping to pick up her called saber, she activated it, raised it, and with a yell of distress mixed with anger, she sliced through Octavius' neck, beheading him.

She stood over him gasping. She had lost a friend. Touching the diadem on her forehead with trembling fingers, she knew she would always remember him. She was scared of her own anger now but she knew that if something frightened her like this, it would frighten others too. She gave Octavius' remaining body, a kick and contemplated slicing it to pieces but figured some Peons would have fun with that.

Turning, filled with anger, disgust, sadness, and fear, she let adrenaline take over and she ran into the entrance she had been trying to enter before this whole mess.

Tags: Darth_wanderguard

 

Combo with Sinrebirth

IC: Re'van
Missle Tunnel

Re'van followed the Emperor silently, doing her best to stay alert for any dangers close by. She moved quietly, and they walked into the open area of the tunnel where the other ship had merged itself into. Seeing the Emperor stand next to himself took a bit to get used to. The one with her spoke. 'We have a ship above, on the top hull. It can accommodate us all, and take the Empress away.' Re'van stayed silent, but she eyed both Insipid's with a raised eyebrow. Insipid 2 spoke up then. No good.' Insipid spoke up, gesturing the Senator forward from the wreckage of the ship. 'Aryan is too valuable. We can't risk him and the Empress.' Risk? Insipid pointed to the bodyguards. 'You two, take the hover gurney up to Re'van's ship.'

He then quickly continued speaking to the other Sith there. Re'van was surprised to see Lord Manticore was there as well. Was he not on a mission on Coruscant? Things must have quickly escalated, for him to now be here. 'Lord Hesper,' Emperor 1 continued, 'Take the Senator and Lenora. Go down, there are likely escape pods you can use -' Re'van was about to point out the fact that her ship was secured, and they would need the security code for access, to avoid any unforeseen 'incidents', but before she could speak, a noise echoed down the depths. Insipid turned, holding out a hand to his phantom. They abruptly became one, even while he issued orders. 'Hesper, Aryan, Lenora, go now.'

Re'van noted the change in his voice. She could remotely give the codes, but before she could even state the fact, a drip of fluid landed on Re'van's shoulder, on top of her armor. Every defensive alarm went off in Re'van's mind even as Insipid called out 'Look out!' Whatever the oozing liquid was, it suddenly moved, as a thing alive, as it whipped down, around her waist and towards her feet, where it somehow expanded a bit, and moved to bind her foot. What madness was this?! As she moved to deal with the immediate threat, she vaguely heard Manticore's roar of “Protect the Emperor!” even as she felt a massive force-push directed towards her. She was hit by the push, and she used it, allowing it to move her, even as her ears picked up another sound. Her dark senses flared as she roared in anger, the darkness blossoming from her.

As she rolled, ancient Sith magics were called in force one more to her beck and call, as she called forth the dark orb. But this time was different. She was not using them as an attack, but instead as defense. As she rolled, she called the dark sphere of kinetic and electric energy, to form as a shield for her, incasing her as she rolled clear, and then to move as a domed shield over her, once she was rolled clear from, whatever else might have been above them all. And if her newfound friend managed to still cling to her ankle, having survived the orbs attack, it would find itself tasting the blade of
her sabers, as she looked to see what was attacking them now.

The shred of creature was drove from her, but the mass that smashed to the floor, and coalesced to launch after Re'van - more than three times her size, cloying for her. There was a ripple of what could only be fear radiating. Desperation. Secret knowledge.

As Re'van rolled, she managed to get rid of her clingy companion that had been around her foot. However, the darkside warned her that there was still danger. As she came up to a standing position, she shifted her shields to gather intel. The mass of whatever it was, smashed to the floor and then formed itself. Re'van could almost swear the thing was looking at her, as it seemed to reach out towards her, seeking her out directly. Re'van mentally growled to her 'companions' //If there
is something you are not telling me...//, she left the threat stand for now. She had other issues to deal with. Re'van felt a wave of fear ripple towards her. And there were still other targets coming towards the group as well.

Re'van moved.

Her shields she still kept in place, to keep whatever the mass was, from touching her, as she moved at lighting speeds. In three arms, she now beheld a lit saber, and she kept them in constant motion as she moved in an erratic pattern, moving from the floor to the walls of the tunnel they were in. As she moved, she scanned the area. She had to keep track of where the Emperor was located, and from which place their other enemies came from. Perhaps she could use them, to keep the dark ooze busy, as she moved. Her dark orbs, would continue to shield her as well, for the thing was growing in size as well. She felt the darkside rise within Lord Manticore, as he began his own series of attacks, even as the sounds of blaster fire rang nearby. Re'van growled darkly as she worked to understand this new threat. It was alive. How much so, she would determine shortly. What dark secret did this thing play in the story the Emperor had spoken to her of? It wanted something. No, it NEEDED something. She was beginning to see a pattern. All she needed, was an opening.

The monster didn't give her any. A massive chunk spun off the electrified portion of the creature and broke free, surging forward, just as her pursuing piece - reduced in size - launched after her, intending to ambush her and swallow her whole with the other piece combined, dark ball or not.

Kalara giggled.

Ruin hissed for her to be quiet.

Darth Insipid balanced himself on the wall edge so he could use two hands, and ramped up the blasts from them. The entire oozing sea, which had been gathering to flood the area while its cut off parts kept them distracted, reared back, a scream of screams. Insipid was level with Re'van, but could not draw from his focus to coordinate.

Whatever this thing was, it was nothing, if not persistent, Re'van mused as she kept moving. She noted a massive chunk from elsewhere had broken off, and seemed to be moving towards her, even as her little friend seemed to keep up with her as well. She quickly recognized a flanking maneuver. Of course, it did not help that Kalara was busy giggling away like some lovesick infested schoolgirl. Re'van had her thoughts on that, but was too busy to pursue them at the moment. Re'van also noted that Darth Insipid seemed to be doing well, with his level of lightening. She also knew, that opposites, seemed to have some 'interesting' effects as well. If the creature would not be so kind as to provide her with an
opening, then she would have to make her own. With a dark smile, she turned suddenly and moved towards Insipid and his quite spectacular lightening display. As she did, she put away one saber. She kept her dark orb shields in place, spinning them, as she called another ability into play.

Cryokinesis.

The air around Re'van instantly dropped as a bit of smoke whispered from her mouth. With narrow eyes, Re'van aimed for the area immediately surrounding her, and quickly spread it out over ooze. Lighting and Ice. Hopefully, the results should be spectacular. If nothing else, the cold would slow the creature down some.

The glob of creature merged it I one; froze mid-leap, and crashed to the ground in pieces. A violent and sudden surge of energy would leave Re'van as she made use of the cyrokinesis technique while using another. Insipid took an opportunity from the blob losing a piece of it itself to release a hand from his lightning barrage and sweep. The foes that Lord Manticore were battling were grabbed and thrown at the main, electrified, mass. Gritting his teeth, the Emperor nodded to Re'van to drop back down from beside him and recover. He would have, if he could, told her to get that annoying amulet to shut up.

Re'van would have liked to enjoy the outcome of her recent gambit, as the creature merged, then leaped, only to be frozen in mid-leap, and then crashed to the ground in pieces. But she was busy gritting her teeth, drawing in air sharply,as she fought off a sudden wave of energy, strong and powerful, that rolled through her body. It was not something she was used to. She felt tired. She saw the Emperor nod at her, and as she dispelled the dark orbs, she moved. She knelt down to one knee as she concentrated, but her eyes stayed on alert. THAT HURT. Too much energy had been expended, and right now she was feeling the effects. She reached out within the Force, to gather herself, by calling upon a Force Drain, to replentish the massive energy surge she had just experienced, from the enemies around her. She knew as long as they were on this ship, they were vunerable, and she could not afford to be weak. To be weak, was to be dead. She also drew on her anger. These fools had caused her pain. They that had dared to come and attack the Sith on their own grounds. The audacity. The arrogance. The..

//SHUT UP!// she growled to the amulet. She was in no mood. Re'van watched as she saw the Emperor gesture, and the creatures that Manticore had been battling, were suddenly tossed aside to be thrown with the rest of the cooked mess. She then slowly stood up. When she looked up once more, they shone with a golden flare, as her anger creasted, and then rose even higher. She then turned, scanning the area. Either they must retake the ship, or destroy it. But it was not
decision to make. So she controlled what action she could do, and continued to absorb the energies around her. Her device on her arm beeped. She quietly keyed in a few numbers, but otherwise stayed silent.


Tag: Sinrebirth, greyjedi125, (HanSolo29, corinthia, Darth Master Titus)

 

IC: Jwob Sebb and Holocron (Combo post)
Moriband Surface

[Feeling the catacombs without being able to actually visualize them, it really needed to teach its new student the better points of precious item storage because this pocket was atrocious! Yes. Well were was it? Catacombs. Nothing like a secret passage that echoed with the blood of the vanquished. It felt no bodies, merely the simmering echoes of their life blood played about the walls and floors that now sustained ever so slowly the agents of rot. The true beauties of this world.]

[Gently Soliloquy pulled at single cells and hopeful seeds of rot and gathered them to the pocket. Redecorating it's containment with beautiful foliage, beautiful potentials. Whatever else passed in the passage it did not care, the infernal drives, those other Sith or Force user creations did not reply for now. But they as a whole were patient, it was an inherent and necessary talent of patience. If one is flawed in this than the gatekeepers were doomed to madness if they were made to sustain themselves in the silence. Thank darkness it did suffer such a fate, no matter what it's seventy-seventh gatekeeper said!]

[As they moved out into the world the plan of attack was given. So Jwob and Darth Bellorum were sneaking to the first weapons emplacement when they were discovered. Only a stirring in the Force gave rise to a warning of what was to come as well a thought that was pushed into it's pupils mind that echoed there for it to hear.]

The Ithorian was dutifully following Darth Bellorum. This was quite different than what he normally did. He did his best to follow her instructions carefully. The soldier came toward them. The feeling of relief that they hadn't been discovered turned to shock when they were. Then it was as if there was static in his mind and Bellorum force pushed him back so hard and fast that the wind was knocked out of him.

[The time had come, it urged Jwob, 'Use the spell! Now!' it pushed it hardly at the hammerheads mind. If used a barrier should form to protect them both. If not. . .Soliloquy would survive. Only with the One of Rot above, how long was for the first time in eons a question.]

Jwob heard the holocron tell him to use the spell. What spe... wait... the spell is there... in his mind. A half second later he was weaving the spell for a barrier. "Thank you." he murmured to the holocron. Jwob could also see Dark Lady Bellorum there. She survived as well. Good. But that gun emplacement is toast. We... I... we should go see if we can help the Lorekeeper and Kronos. Gods these terms are getting confusing to me. He turned and started to run in the direction that his comrades had gone and wondered if Bellorum would follow.

Tags: Lady Belligerent, Mikaboshi, Darth Kronos, Mitth_Fisto

 

Yet another combo post with the only Wookiee on Moraband WookieeRage

IC: Darth Anark & Darth Ravenous
tight spaces...



Ravenous watched as Anark fried the undead with the beautiful Force Lightning. The smell was putrid yet satisfying at the same time. Anark landed from his force surge and turned to acknowledge Ravenous' help in the matter; kneeling from the exertion. As they locked eyes, the ground gave way to another crypt below. They were enveloped in the darkness instantly. Ravenous tumbled into a sand pile when he landed, left from the cave in, losing grip of his hilt into the dune. Wookiee's rarely bathe, but Ravenous thought one would be well needed after this... if he survived. As he looked around, he could see two large, undead Guardians readying their pikes at the two Sith.

Their unwelcomed intrusion would be paid in blood.. In a frenzy, Ravenous turned back to the sands; to the area his saber had landed but realized that it had been buried completely. The Guardian that had spotted Ravenous lumbered towards him; pike ready overhead. Ravenous frantically felt for the saber and looked as the Guardian neared him. At the last possible second he felt it. He grasped his saber and snapped it to life, with shards of glass erupting from the burning sand it was just in time to swipe and heavily divert the blow sideways. Vibrations from the energy pike jangled his arms as sparks flew about as he became half buried by the sands.

As his Guardian prepared for another swipe, Ravenous struggled until his leg was released from the sand, he rolled sideways and narrowly avoided another cleave. With a howl, Ravenous addressed the Human still within a dune, "I've had enough of these Kriffing undead, my friend, these sentinels will fall like all their lesser brethren!" He let out his consciousness to another, what he thought to be trust, was actually an invite to a Dark Side Meld to his ally. To know ones' thoughts and moves would only benefit the two, in a certain death situation. Anark would only know the Wookiee's pain inside, which would fuel his anger as it does his Melded ally.

Anark gripped his lightsaber in both hands - which he seldom did in combat - as he felt the dark meld connect, they were one and the Dark Side almost felt like a tangible thing as they linked. He sprinted through the narrow crack toward the other Guardian and locked blades with it. There was a thunderous clash that echoed through the crevices accompanied by a brief but brilliant light that emitted from the two weapons as they met.

Anark and the massive undead Guardian danced in rapid motion, the Sith's breath coming through his mark fast and broken with the occasional groan as he fought fatigue, but fatigue was something that his opponent took full advantage of. The being took it's chance while Anark pulled back for another swing leaving himself unguarded for a split second, the Guardian sunk his weapon into the Sith's knee which prompted a loud shriek followed by a whimper as he dropped his saber and fell backward with a thud onto the gravel.

The Wookiee turned when he heard Anark's wail. Not only that, but through the meld, he felt his leg begin to burn wicked hot as if he was also on the receiving end of the cut. Ravenous gripped his leg, knowing now that Anark was now vulnerable. The Wookiee fought through the pain and continued to well up the Dark Side into an unbridled Rage. He came to the assistance of Anark, ignoring his lumbering Guardian that he originally engaged and began focusing on Anark's Guardian. As the Behemoth committed his attention to Anark, the Wookiee gathered the force to jump up and straddle the back of its' neck. It stumbled and he began to bash in the Undead guardian's decaying skull with elbow after punishing elbow. Ravenous' original Guardian began to lumber towards the Wookiee preparing to attack again from behind. The Guardian's head was bloody mush by the time the Wookiee had sensed what was about to happen behind him. He felt the strike and rolled backwards; off its' neck and down the backside of Anark's Guardian.

The strike that was intended for Ravenous was received instead by Anark's guardian. The electric pike sliced deep into the neck of the behemoth and split it from neck to hip, spraying sparks about. Ravenous trudged through the Undead Guardian's remains while limping to put some distance between the remaining Guardian and himself, he settled behind a crumbled pillar while the last Guardian pursued him.

With the dark meld still ongoing, Anark used the fury built up between himself and his Sith comrade and yanked the crude weapon from his leg, it came out swiftly and cleanly but caused more pain coming out than it did going in. The Sith rose shakily to his feet, putting all his weight on his good leg and hobbled over to the remaining guardian, as he struggled towards it he could see it bracing itself for his attack. With his lightsaber still on the ground behind the crumbled pillar Anark conjured up both his and the Wookiee's rage into a deadly fusion and with one swift sideways motion of the Sith's own neck as if he were beckoning a friend, along with a rumble in the Force, the Guardians neck twisted violently against its will, shattering it's vertebrae with an audible crack and ending it's feeble existence in an instant.

Ravenous emerged from the crumbled pillar; still limping from Anark's wound to see the final Guardian falling limply to its' knees. Then wobbly necked; it fell to the floor in a plume of dust. Ravenous instinctively ran up to the corpse and hacked its' head off with a savage look in his eyes. He had been tapping into the Force Rage for quite a while and was teetering on the edge of sanity. It had to be worth it though, Rage was all he knew now. Periodically there was a 'thudding' that was heard and until now, they had been too focused on the Giant Guardians to realize that there was a small army of Undead thralls that had been raining down into the exposed tomb.

"Anark, we have a small problem here!!" Ravenous exclaimed.

The human Sith could feel the connection between he and Darth Ravenous begin to dwindle, the meld might have lasted longer if one of them had been seasoned in the art but they were both still in the throws of their apprenticeships within the Order. They still had to deal with this last batch that had crawled down into the tomb though before they would be able to figure out a way to get out and return to the battle for Moraband that was still raging above.

Anark reached out a hand and called his weapon to it, the lightsaber flew swiftly through the air and he closed his palm around it, activating it and heading back towards his friend. He walked slow, still having to limp to supress some of the agony from his severed tendons and knee cap that was most likely in more than one piece after the attack.

"Damn, rotten, stinking vermin!" there was no humor or amusement in his eyes now as he barked the slur aloud, heading toward one of the undead, cutting through it's midsection with his red blade, it fell to the ground in two halves. Anark reached his fellow Darth and stood the Wookiee back to back with his saber drawn forward prepared to take down his half of the horde that were closing in on both sides.

The pain faded in Ravenous' leg and he felt the Dark Side leave him momentarily. He was starting to feel fatigued and wanted desperately to catch a break. With Anark to his back, he closed his eyes to center himself and raised his saber above his head at 60 degrees preparing to strike at the thralls with vengeance, relying on his swordsmanship more than the Dark Side of the Force.

TAG: WookieeRage Lady Belligerent Darth Rozic E. L.Knight​

 

IC: Darth Rozic
Rozic's Subconscious

“Hello there,” greeted Karanain as he languidly strode toward Rozic. “I see that you have damaged yourself. No worries! I can fix you,” he continued in his usual ominous voice. Karanain raised his volcanic like arms, and then out of his fingertips came clouds of shadows that engulfed Rozic’s head. Darth Rozic found it once again difficult to speak yet he managed to utter a few words.

“Who- ar-e you?” questioned Rozic as he choked on his words almost as if his throat was enveloped in some invisible smoke.

“I told you already; I’m Darth Karanain the ancient all powerful, all knowing Sith Lord and you are Darth Rozic!” answered Karanain, his voice stricken with boredom.

Rozic managed to utter a few more sentences: “I know who you are but who am I? How do you know me? What is this dark, shadowy stuff that is taking over my body? Why do you hate Insipid?”

“Ah young Rozic you will realise someday soon that Insipid is getting in the way of my-I mean our-plans. If he stays in power we can’t rule the galaxy now can we? Trust me you don’t want Insipid around much longer!” Karanain responded as he begun to fade away.

As Rozic began to awaken he managed to utter a few more words. “What are you talking about “our plans” what is our plan?”

“You’ll see” stated Karanain his voice insipid.

Awake!

TAG: @Sinrebirth Snokers E. L.Knight WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous

Tight Spaces..Crypt, Mountains

Ravenous standing back to back with an ally.. a worthy ally, with the undead mass closing in upon them was the most alive he had felt in decades. He was exhausted. His connection to the Force dwindling with the exhaustion from the nonstop battling he's been in since he arrived on this planet. Now, he must find that vampiric addiction of the Dark Side once again that he had lost from the meld. He dug into his memories, the ones that surfaced earlier. He didn't want to remember what had happened, but he knew it would fuel his anger. What that scum...The Hutt had tried to do! After all I had to do for that slug, he would try and screw me! Did he not know who the kriff he was messing with?....



*Flashback*

IC: Wuulfwarg (Bounty Hunter)

Wuster's Cantina, Nar Shaddaa



"I don't like your artistic approach, Wookiee... I can barely even recognize if these people are who I contracted you to kill..."

These words echoed through Wuulfwarg's head as loud as the Hutt's slave's arm cracking and being ripped off. Bulva the Hutt looked in horror as the Wookiee continued his advance to his 'stage' area with an insidious smile on his face. Wuulfwarg's advance was further halted by a group of thugs the Hutt called forth, Four in total. Two thugs were carrying blaster pistols, the other two vibroblades. They approached Wuulfwarg on his left. The Wookiee scanned his attackers on his left and growled to them, "You will only slow down the inevitable, my blade through your boss' chest!" And with that, the gunman opened up on the Wookiee. Wuulfwarg snapped his Jedi saber to life and deflected the incoming shots, trying his damnedest to direct the bolts to the slug on his right. It didn't work, his skills had diminished since his time with the Jedi. He then focused on just deflecting the bolts and closing the distance with the thugs. Blaster bolts were wildly flying about the Cantina, some hitting patrons as they keeled over, the others scorching the walls around them. Bulva the Hutt exclaimed, "Stop, you fools! I want you to kill the Wookiee! not everyone else!" The firing halted and the vibroblade equipped thugs stepped forward. Wuulfwarg flexed his shoulders with an audible 'crack'. He pointed his saber at one of the sword equipped thug. "Do you know how to use that? or were you thinking you could actually kill me with that primitive weapon?" One thug came in with an overhead cleave, the other followed suit and aimed an attack at the Wookiee's side. Wuulfwarg swung powerfully at the sword that was coming down overhead and connected, sending the thugs stumbling clumsily away from the melee. After the block, the Wookiee spun low, ducking the thugs attack at his neck. The neck attacker's back was exposed and Wuulfwarg finished him with a low saber cut through both his ankles. He screamed in agony as the vibroblade clanked across the floor. The other thug saw this, he trembled and took off down a servant passage leaving the blaster thugs to their demise. The Wookiee turned his attention back to them and brooded towards them. They tried accurately shooting at him with carefully aimed shots. Each one was angrily swiped to the side by the lightsaber. Wuulfwarg finally got close enough to them and pulled a holdout blaster from his belt. He shot one thug between the eyes, leaving a smoking hole in the poor fool's head. The other thug dropped his blaster and held his hands up, scared to death. Wuulfwarg holstered his hold out blaster and addressed the thug, "Was working for this sleemo slug worth it, human? It wasn't worth it to me...." He gripped his saber with both hands and lifted his saber high. The thug let out a squeal which was immediately silenced with the cleave. He turned back to Bulva the Hutt, who was struggling to try and get away. He fell off his stage and landed on the floor with a gelatinous flop. He tried squirming but there was no escape. Wuulfwarg began to lumber towards the fallen worm, knocking over tables and chucking chairs across the room, completely enveloped in what would be later learned to be a Dark Side power; Force Rage. He stood over Bulva the Hutt, this time completely unguarded.

"Please, Wuulfwarg.. I'll give you double!.. Take anything! What do you want?!"

It was Wuulfwarg who was now in control. It felt good. He smiled to the Hutt and replied with,

"I get what I want, no matter what...Slug. I think i'll start by taking your life first!"



Wuulfwarg buried his saber slowly into the Hutt's chest. The gurgling soon stopped once he reached a vital organ. Wuulfwarg brought his tattered hood back up over his head, shadowing his face. He stepped back out into the threshold of the Cantina, back into the rain. And the world around him faded as Ravenous snapped back into reality.



It was back again! The Dark Side. Ravenous leaped forward and began to work on the Undead advancement. Slicing foes with vicious strikes. He used the Force to grasp a crumbling pillar and heaved it through a line of thralls, squashing them into the walls of the Crypt.

 

IC: Darth Kronos

A loud and sudden explosion pierced through Kronos' eardrum, catching him off guard. To anyone else, he probably would have looked like an idiot. After all, he is a Sith. He should b used to puny things such as an explosion. And, while he was used to seeing them, he wan't used to hearing them. At least, without a helmet on. It protected him from stuff like this. It reflected extremely loud sounds and weather. It hid his face, his expressions, emotions. It was the one thing from his suit that he felt he needed. And, he was without it, probably for a long time.

A lovely distraction flew its way in his line of sight, and quite literally as well. A ship found its way near their position, as it began firing upon the artillery units. He didn't know who exactly was flying it, but given all of the fancy tricks the flyer was making, Kronos assumed he was Fore Sensitive. He stayed back, watching their air support thin out the herd for them, wiping out any of the undead that would stand in their way - because apparently the undead actually exist. And, he was finding himself filled with hope. Hope that the tide could be turned early on in the battle. That this little side mission could be ended quickly. His eyes were wide.

But, of course, something bad had to happen. Their new flying friend was shot out of the sky, as he crashed onto the Korriban sand. His heart sunk into his stomach. He was full of disappointment and anger. Nothing ever works in their favor, does it? It's just bad luck and more bad luck, until they eventually make it out. Hell, he half expected the Eye of Hoth would end up blowing up the damn Temple. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Getting angry at that moment wasn't going to help anything.

He leaned on a nearby wall. He would wait for Bellorum's orders. It was up to them to take out the artillery.

The Lorekeeper, however, wasn't going to wait for that. No, he didn't have any time for something as terrible as waiting. He pushed Kronos out, into the middle of the action, telling him: "I'll catch up."

He grinned, showing his cracked, disgusting teeth. He probably thought he was being clever or funny. But those weren't really the words that were best to describe him, now that Kronos had finally met this one. No, annoying was the best word for it. He was far too cocky.

He was more annoying than a Gungan.

But, there was no time to argue. He couldn't protest, not with Bellorum nearby. He turned around, as he ran towards the action. One there, he immediately noticed that there were only a few remaining people there - all with suicide vests on. That much was obvious. He could see the activation button on their uniforms, as bright as the two Tatooine suns. He smirked. At least there wasn't an entire damn army of them for him to fight. He had that going for him.

Kronos ignited his lightsaber. A jolting sound, especially to one who had never seen or heard a lightsaber before. This was seen as a beacon to those suicide soldiers. As soon as he ignited his weapon, one started to sprint towards him, one of their hands hovering over their suicide button. Cearly, this one didn't know Kronos knew of the function of their suits. He would be the first to die. As the soldier sprinted to Kronos, he lifted up his hand, freezing his entire body in place. The soldier tried to move, but it was all in vain. He would just remain there, stuck in place, shuddering. With a jolt of the same arm, Kronos broke the person's legs, resulting in the bones popping out of the skin and armor. He fell to his knees, screaming in complete agony.

A friend of his, both angry that his buddy was being hurt, and taken aback from the violent way it happened, rushed to a closer distance, and he raised his blaster. He squeezed the trigger, sending a bright bolt of light towards Kronos. Sensing this, he swung his head in the soldier's direction, bringing his lightsaber up to defend himself. Once the bolt reached him, he swung his weapon at it, like a bat. It sent the bolt back at the soldier. He would have no time to dodge it. The bolt shot through his face, causing him to jump back onto the ground, dead on impact. Smoke rose from his body, now with a new and fresh hole in his face.

Giving his attention to the crippled soldier, he knew that he couldn't drag it out forever. As much as the pain fueled him, there were more people he had to take care of. With a powerful Force Push, he aimed it at his chest. Underneath the armor and skin, the cripple's ribcage was cracked and pushed in, The cracked bits pierced through his heart. He immediately spit out blood, as the Force Grip on him was released. He collapsed onto the ground.

The remaining two raised their blasters as well. Kronos didn't know why, though. They should have known they were already dead. No matter. It was just more dead obdies on the gorund anyway. Quickly picking a target, he raised his arm once again and pulled the poor soldier to him. He pointed his lightsaber at him, as he yanked the soldier directly into is blade. It impaled him directly in the middle of his chest. Shock and terror was on his face, and his friend couldn't do anything to stop it. Kronos suspended the now impaled suicide bomber in the air with the Force, as he gripped his weapon with two hands. The soldier shook, knowing his fate. And with one clean slice upward, Kronos killed him. His body was mangled, having been cut in half from the chest up. It was a brutal way to die.

The final person spammed the trigger on his blaster, clearly hoping to land a hit on the young Sith Master.

What a moron.

Kronos was easily able to deflect the bolts, sneding them flying into the walls and artillery units. This couldn't go on forever. Kronos put him in a choke hold, lifting him up into the air as he did so. The blaster was dropped to the ground, as the soldier's hands grabbed at his throat, for some reason. There wasn't any way he could stop it by doing that. His legs kicked, he gagged, his lungs trying to grasp for any form of air. This would be useless. With every single breath he took, Kronos tighened his Force grip on him more, squeezing any of the air he might have gotten. As he did so, Kronos slowly walked closer to his victim, glaring at him with a sinister look. It would be the last thing he ever saw. Once his grip was so tight that the nameless person could not physically breathe or gag, Kronos would crush the life out of him. Quite literally as well. He had crushed his lungs and throat, the soldier letting out a strangled and unpleasant cough as he did so. Blood was shot out of his mouth as well. Kronos let his body collapse to the ground.

Shutting off his lightsaber and returning it to his belt, Kronos began to glance around him, looking for his teammates, wherever the hell they were. They still needed to destroy the atrillery guns. He assumed they could do so with each of the soldiers' suicide vests.

He stood there, in the middle of it all, completely motionless. He was breathing heavily, his hands still shaking from the rage and power he felt.

TAG: Lady Belligerent Mikaboshi DarthIshyZ Mitth_Fisto

 

Battle of Moraband GM Update 3 of 3

~

In the basement, the pair of troopers who had leveled blaster rifles at Lord Soccmel instead found themselves gripping frantically at their collars. Bodily they made little sound if any, such was the force of the grip was levied against them, and instead the clattering of dropped weapons to the floor was the only audible indication of distress. They struggled for a time, before finally thudding to the floor and remaining still.

In the distance, the relay room waited still, and just around the corner from it, a panel which could kill the lights, or, if damaged, overload the room's equipment entirely.

~

IC: Darth Haretisch -- Central Foyer, Great Temple, Moraband

Gray eyes had turned to yellow as Haretisch began to beat back Eranikus with sheer speed and wild abandon, pushing forward and raining blows from every angle, mounting the first real offense he had been able to muster since the fight began. The thumping pain in his knee set his stomach quivering with every push, every spin and skip and stutter step. Every feint and every torque sent a jolt of pain through his body as though he were struck with buckshot. And he consumed it - riding heavily on his injured limb, he feast upon every iota of agony he could extract, and mined the depths of his connection to the dark side of the force.

Eranikus gave ground, backpedaling as he adroitly fended off attacks with sound blocks and deft parries, and as the general's blade hissed and spat against a blade lock with his adversary, at the edges of the room he spied the arrival of the cavalry. High Lord Arach, her apprentice Darth Syren, and Underlord Kwea Acantha had stepped into the room, looking all a bit worked but none the worse for wear, and spoiling for a fight.

Haretisch, meanwhile, had slightly run out of steam. Even a Dark Lord had limits, and the dark side was poison, a drug even. A consuming, sacrificial flame. To touch it so directly was to lose a piece of oneself in the process, and as the Night Herald felt that piece of himself being siphoned away and into the void, he had no choice but to pull back. Suddenly Eranikus was a far more overwhelming force than he had been only a moment before.

With a flash of force lightning, the blade lock was broken. Haretisch was thrown once again and landed hard on his back, his robes burned through in a perfect circle across his midsection where charred, smoking flesh now lay exposed. He breathed heavily still, lifting himself onto one elbow and reaching for the lightsaber which had landed a short distance away. Before his grip could find it, his comm activated. "We've neutralized two sets of artillery, east hangar should be free to launch from." Before he could answer, the line clicked and shut off. They had done it, to his relief. And he had an idea.

Eranikus' gaze had shifted to the new players - a small window of opportunity had shown itself. Calmly, the Night Herald typed a quick message and sent it over a temple-wide channel.

East hangr free. All availble gunshps to mntn pass.

"See the pretender fall before me in defeat," Eranikus declared, oblivious to his artillery having been dismantled, and paying no attention to Haretisch.

In the east hangar, pilots and gunners scrambled. It was now firmly back under Imperial control - the actions of Arach, Syren, and Kralkus had allowed a shift in troop placement which swiftly bolstered the remaining two hangars to the extent needed to secure them. Within minutes, a cadre of air support would be arriving to assist Hel and her allies, to stem the tide of undead.

"The weak die, and the strong rule," the general continued. "I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. Bow to me as your lord, your king, and the chosen of your new god," his voice became a booming roar, "and know that it is better to kneel at the feet of the devil than to be in his path."

"He lies," Haretisch spoke up, still struggling to pull himself up. "He'll kill you all whether you kneel or not. Bare your neck and it will only be easier for him to cut."

In the shadows crept a master assassin - Lord Draconis crouched in wait for the perfect moment.

Perhaps that moment had come.

TAG: panta1978, Halle Dray, Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7, dragonsith13


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IC: Darth Ravenous
Tight Spaces... Crypt, Mountain pass.

The rhythm of the dismemberments became a natural monotonous motion. He felt his Force powers, his true power, which had laid dormant since his exile, awakening once again in this Trial by Fire. There was a lull in the frequency of undead pouring in. They must be 'distracted' by something. He thought to himself. He felt his consciousness open up to a larger world. He could feel the freighter pilot wash away in the horde of undead. He could sense Darth's Hel and Hades were still above them. He gazed down at his Hilt and was flooded with memories from the sight of its' construction; It was made from his Clan's Wroshyr tree. He often thought of his family and if any were left alive. Would they accept who he had become? The Wookiee was to be a proud warrior of his clan, unadulterated by the outside world of slavers, thieves and murderers but nothing ever goes to plan. Since then, he has experienced so much. He had joined the Jedi order, and later rejected the same teachings, devouring his Master after their ship crashed on that barren planet. He became a killer for hire and bounty hunter to put food on the table, he had loved and lost. It all revolved around the same central idea...

Survival.

Even now, as Ravenous and Anark were alone in this cesspit, survival had been forefront. He had to let it go. He had to focus on what his destiny is to be, not was. But first, he had to leave this grave. The Wookiee looked around. There was no way up, it was too high and from what he could see of his moon lit surroundings, there was no exit. With clarity now washing over his mind, he examined the crypt; calmly finishing off any dismembered undead that still struggled about with a quick downward stab of his hilt as he passed. That's when he spotted the sparkle in the corner of his eye. It had shimmered a darkened reflection of his blue blade. Around the neck of the squashed head Guardian was a glossy jewel, no.. a crystal imbedded into a medallion. It was dark ash in color with a glossed finish. He felt the reverberations as he neared it. He had enough of Talismans and treasure but this was somehow different. He felt it call to him in a different way than the Kashi Mer Talisman had. It was not hypnotic nor seducing, rather begging him to pick it up and care for it. It wanted nothing more. Perplexed, He kneeled down and popped the crystal out of the setting and put it into a pouch. From a kneeling position he turned his head up from the corpse and that's when he saw it. There was a crumbled section of flooring free of sand and debris. He rose back up fluidly and walked to the floor. Using the force, he crumbled the flooring into itself and exposed a burial chamber. There was no body inside. Instead, a lone Lightsaber Hilt laid within a tattered plush coffin. It was of dark golden hue, with ornate markings throughout the grip and adorned with gems. Ravenous jumped a few feet down. He grasped it and faded into a calming trance. A hissing voice filled his mind.

"I have waited too long for a worthy being to enter my resssting placcce.... I senssse great power within you...Ravenousss. Please, take my weapon from thisss crypt... Use it to vanquish your foesss...whoever they may be..But remember thiss, Wookiee. For a being who hass done their natural duty in life..Death isss as natural as ssleep.."

Ravenous came to and pulled back from the ancient blade, Hesitating for a moment before grabbing it and clipping it to his belt.

"The undead are distracted, I can feel it. We need to find a way out before the horde regains momentum." Ravenous trilled to the Human as he leapt out of the coffin. He looked up to see the undead thralls beginning to gather at the edge of the crypt again.

Tag:Lady Belligerent, Snokers, E. L.Knight

 

The Lorekeeper
Temple Exterior, Moraband

For a brief moment the Lorekeeper felt the young Master's irritation at being pushed into the danger, but he was wise to do as he was told. As the masked Lord charged toward the artillery guns and what suicidal defenders remained the old sorcerer followed not far behind, the voice of Andeddu praised the Lorekeeper's caution, they both could feel the Force churning like a coming storm.

Even the mask of Cruor seemed to sense it, the relic radiated a sense of unease.

It took no time at all for Darth Kronos to dispatch the suicide troopers that were protecting the artillery encampments, and the way he did so was gloriously violent, always having appreciated the finer arts of torture the Lorekeeper even stopped a moment to appreciate the broken body of the first soldier Kronos had encountered. He had never had much time for the finer points of lightsaber use, but it didn't take a weapon master to see the skill with which the younger Sith had gone about his work.

The Lorekeeper looked up from the dead body to see Darth Kronos standing completely motionless, breathing hard and trembling ever so slightly. Even an apprentice would be able to feel the rage within him, and behind that rage was a respectable measure of power for one so young. The Lorekeeper walked toward the man, "I'm glad you didn't die." It was as close to a compliment as he would give, and to be honest he was beginning to feel that he would have need of a meat shield again in the near future, it was a good idea to try and be nice.

The sound of Dark Lady Bellorum's voice could suddenly be heard. "Do you know how to use explosives?" She asked the Ithorian, "these are fairly old in design, but powerful. So, don't drop it."

As they walked up to Kronos and the Lorekeeper, Bellorum pulled out a small package and tossed it to Jwob.

"Good job, Kronos," Bellorum said and then she looked over at the Lorekeeper, "what flavor is that lip balm?" She smirked and shook her head, knowing he hadn't done much beyond watch Kronos and hide.

The Lorekeeper smacked his lips a bit, "Cod, I think." Had a rather putrid and rotten essence. It was from an old tome he had found, once belonging to the old shamans and healers of the Sith species, though foul smelling it worked exceedingly well.

Quickly the group moved closer to the artillery guns, Lady Bellorum taking the lead as the rest of the group stayed close behind and moved silently. "Lorekeeper, I'll take the one closer to us, you get the other gunner. You two be ready if this doesn't work," she directed at Kronos and Jwob.

He watched the soldiers for a few moments before the gunner pulled his side-arm and shot the other two in quick order, they didn't even know what happened, that left only the gunner remaining. The Lorekeeper just stared at the gunner, seemingly doing nothing, but it wasn't long before the gunner dropped the blaster and placed both hands on his head and began to scream in pain, his torment lasted only a few seconds before he dropped to the ground dead as his companions.

Lorekeeper turned to the others, "Brain freeze." He explained with an impish grin.

Tag: DarthIshyZ Darth Kronos Mitth_Fisto Lady Belligerent

 

IC: Darth Anark
Moraband Battle


The air seemed to become thinner the longer the two Sith stayed in the pit. Anark watched as Ravenous was drawn to the corpse of the guardian and began to rummage around it like a hungry scavenger, he thought about going to see for himself what had peaked the Wookiee’s curiosity but just as he started to walk he heard a sound coming from behind him, a crackling sound that almost drowned out the commotion above. He took a look back toward Ravenous who had disappeared. Anark unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and held it with his thumb over the activation as he slowly made his way toward the source of the sound he’d heard. A wall, it was just another decaying wall in the cramped space they’d been plunged into. Putting his ear against it he realized that the sound was coming from behind it, he knocked on the wall for a hollow spot and sure enough, he was right.

The Sith brought his blade to life with a snap and then a steady hum and began to carefully carve out a crawl space for himself. The desire to know what was concealed behind there drove him to investigate. It took mere seconds to make an oval big enough from him to clamber through, he picked the wall chunk up with the Force, tossed it aside and edged his way in.

The other side of the wall had been more hollow than he'd initially thought, there was what looked like an ancient room with a staircase that led downwards into an eerie darkness. Upon re-igniting his saber the Sith was startled to see a face appear in front of him illuminated in red from the light of his weapon. It was a child, a boy, he couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old wearing tattered robes and an almost bald head. The boy looked up at the towering Sith and smiled, the smile eased Anark’s anger from the fright, it was not a menacing smile but an innocent, almost welcoming one. The child held a tiny hand out and without hesitation Anark engulfed it with his, allowing himself to be led toward the staircase where they stopped for a second and then began their descent.

They didn’t pass any form of lighting on the way down through the catacomb, no fire torches mounted above, not even any small holes in the walls where a trace of sunlight might find its way in during the day and Anark wondered how the child survived down here. The two came to the end of the stairs where there was a long, narrow corridor. The boy halted and released his grip on the Sith’s hand. Anark looked down at the boy who was staring forward at the door at the end of the corridor, his body was rigid and the smile on his face had been twisted into a grave look of fear. Anark didn’t think to ask the child any questions at this point or even put an arm around him to comfort the vulnerable little being. He just carried on alone.

As he made his way slowly toward the door he turned to look back, raising his lightsaber to light the dark passage. The boy was gone. His brow furrowed in confusion and he recoiled slightly but turned back and continued on. When Anark reached the door it opened before his hand could touch it, creaking on its ancient hinges.

It revealed an empty, medium sized room. Nothing.

A “pfft” escaped his mouth and he turned to go back out the way he’d come when the door swung back on its own, the worn wooden frame around it trembling as it slammed shut and trails of dust escaping from the high ceiling. Anark turned around and was blindsided by a massive force that lifted him off his feet and sent him flying into the adjacent wall. He was now sat with his legs in front of him, slightly dazed from the impact against the caverns wall when he saw what he thought was an infestation of insects at first, glowing ones. As his eyes focused he realised that they were stars, hundreds of thousands of them inside the room. An image started to manifest in the center of the constellation, the image was Déjà vu of he and Tarkana engaged in conversation back on Teta when he’d asked her what she feared. Anark rubbed his eyes but when he opened them the show was still going.

The image faded and was replaced by a second look at the moment he’d thrown the woman to her death on Coruscant. It faded and was again replaced by something else, Hel and Hades levitating he and Ravenous over the undead horde. The floating images in the center of the room began to change more rapidly, the visuals accompanied by a sound of such low decibel that it seemed to shake the room. He saw quick flashes of his peers, Darth Syren cutting down a towering black creature with her lightsaber, Lady Arach crushing the windpipes of two assailants with a flick of her hand, Lord Manticore, a magnificent frame of power floating in a bacta tank. He saw Darth Kwea beheading a traitorous apprentice, Darth Kronos locked in a passionate engagement with Esmerelda. That image gave way to one of Draconisand Titus in a flurry of lightsaber combat with a formidable set of enemies, after that came Lord Cruor leaping and striking with his weapon through the stars that littered the air of the room, Soccmel proving his worth on Moraband, taking down a heavy detail of rabid zombies with his blade and Re’van releasing a river of electric blue Force lightning, Darth Rozic being torn apart in the smouldering remains of a freighter ship and The Butcher, Darth Hesper, face fierce with determination as she waged war for The Empire. Even Senator Aryan who he had not yet been acquainted with appeared in this strange vision. The image then began to rise to the high ceiling like smoke escaping a burning building. Up above the picture morphed into three individuals, Lord Haretisch and Lady Bellorum standing at either side of the Emperor himself, the Dark Lord Insipid who sat on a high throne,

Why was he seeing this?

Better yet, who or what was causing him to have this bazaar experience?

He got to his feet as Insipid faded away into the still glinting stars around the room and picked his saber up off the ground. Just as Anark was about to storm out of the room, muttering maniacally to himself as he did so, a last image appeared among the cosmos, a face he didn’t recognize. He looked for a moment and realized it was the blue form of a Chiss, a young man standing with his arms folded under a long black coat, a slight grin on his face and glowing scarlet eyes staring directly into Anark's The face faded and a brief landscape of Coruscant appeared and then disappeared just as quickly along with all the tiny stars floating around the room, each ones light gradually going out until he was left with nothing but the light of his lightsaber again in the empty room.

Anark wiped the collected beads of sweat from his brow and started back down the dark corridor, trying to analyze in his mind what he had just witnessed.

TAG: WookieeRage Lady Belligerent E. L.Knight​

 

IC: Radian T'lenity
Outside
As the battle raged outside a single question rang in the air. "what are your orders?" This from Radian to the Captain of the vessel, this one named The Firestorm. Radian was not use to taking orders, or asking for permission before acting, but this was not his operation alone. His taskforce was sent to reinforce as they attempted to retrieve the captive's. If The Empress was being held here and they could liberate her, it would go a long way towards boosting moral, even presuming they could retrieve the Senator it would lead towards a massive undermining the treaty the Sith had forced on them. Radian was not about to risk this mission falling apart because his pride inclined him towards taking command. Staring at the Captain he noticed had not responded to the question. "Sir? Sir!" He nearly shouted. Finally the commanding officer came to attention.

"What?" he indicated. "I just gave you the report, what are you orders Captain?" Nodding his head the older fellow finally came into focus. Clearly something had startled him. This battle was anything but usual, and even the Jedi could sense something was amiss. "Yes... of course, what are your recommendations master Jedi? Happy to be noticed Radian did a slight bow of respect showing that he deferred to the Captain, but spoke with confidence. "I feel that turning this into a three way battle would be a mistake, our primary objective is the retrieval of the captive's. I recommend that our ships play the defensive, deal with whatever is sent our way, but maneuver so as to force the opposing side's to focus on each other. It matters not which side come's out on top, they're likely to be bruised and nearly beaten in their own right. Then we can just mop them away as well."

It was a sound strategy provided no unforeseen incidents occurred, but even he knew it was only part of what they had to do. "What of the captive's?" And that Dreadnaught coming towards us!" The Captain snapped in frustration. Radian poured calm into the force, trying to keep the Captains mind at ease.

"Perform evasive maneuver's, divert power towards the shields and focus on survival, create time for their opponents to catch up to them, and when they do it will draw the dreadnaughts attention away from us. In the meantime I'm going to put together a strike force of Jedi, we will board that ship and retrieve the Empress and the Senator. Above all that is our goal, and for now your only objective is survival so we can extract them if necessary. If the tide turns as I expect it to we can get a bonus by wiping out the Sith fleets as well."

The Captain still boiled his fears over into the force, and Radian suspected even the Sith could sense it, that did not bode well for their chances, but he had to act soon, just sitting around would not do any good. Swiftly he turned and marched off the bridge leaving the Captain little other choice but to implement the Jedi's plan.

Tags: Sinrebirth

 

Name: Darth Cocytus (Afan Te)
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Species: kaminoan
Height: 2.2 meters
Weight: 130 lbs.
Occupation: Sith

Weapons: Two cruved crimson lightsabers that can combine into a saberstaff.
Description of abilities: A capable mind reader able to see through lies and tricks as well as manipulate and lie to others.
Biography: Afan Te was born on the planet Kamino, like all Kaminioans. However, he saw himself quite different from his fellow peers, discovering his power in the force at a very young age. In his youth, Afan was quite ruthless, often bullying others, even using his force abilities to control those around him.

Eventually, despite having grown up in a rich family and having a great education Afan Te found himself discontent with where was on Kamino. Thus Afan left his homeworld to travel the galaxy. Having a particular and deadly interest in the nature, prospects, and properties of the force, Afan went to join the Academy where he was dubbed 'Darth Cocytus'.
Rank: Sith Apprentice
Class: Sorcerer
Level: lv.1
Skills:
Force Push/Pull - 1
Force Choke - 1
Mind Trick - 1
Dark Side Meld - 1
Jar'Kai -1
Form II: Soresu - 1
Form III: Djem So - 1

 

IC: Kwea Acantha
Moraband Battle, Great Temple, Central Foyer

Shaking off her feelings that she had from killing Octavius, Kwea slid, in her usual fashion, into the room. She saw Darth Syren and her master, Arach, who had been on the catacombs mission with her and Octavius. She was a Sith that Kwea admired greatly.

Giving them both a quick nod of acknowledgement, she focused on Haretisch. He was battling a man in a cloak. Catching a glimpse of the man’s face, she held back vomit. His skin was grayish green, his eyes were pure yellow, his teeth rotting, his nails were long and yellowed, and he had red lines tattooed down his face. There was white, wispy hair flowing out of his hood and on his chest was a box, no unlike Lord Vader’s had been in history holos.

Kwea reached out with the Force and a name whispered through it as if on a breeze. Eranikus.

She had heard of this Dark Lord of the Sith. That soldier she had killed must have been one of his four disciples. Chalcopyrite? No, too long. Cabaret? Nope, definitely not. Crystallite? Perhaps… Carbonite! That’s right! The Carbonite Disciples! Kwea had read about them before. Then it dawned on her that she had just killed one of the fabled Carbonite Disciples.

Kwea had a slight smirk on her face from her now realized, previous victory until she realized that Erankius had his eyes on the three women who had just stepped into the room.

Haretisch was now on the floor, having been thrown, and had a smoking hole on his chest. Grimacing, Kwea hoped he would be okay. His comm activated but Kwea couldn’t hear exactly what was said. He responded by typing.

Eranikus spoke, “See the pretender fall before me in defeat.” He continued rambling on about them bowing to him and Kwea rolled her eyes. The Night Herald, still trying to pull himself off the ground, said, "He lies. He'll kill you all whether you kneel or not. Bare your neck and it will only be easier for him to cut."

She knew this was true. Suddenly, she sensed a faint movement in the Force. Only using her eyes to look around, she couldn’t spot anyone in the shadows. The hairs on her neck rose and Kwea hoped to Onederon it wasn’t another one of Eranikus’ men. There was no way they would be able to fight more than just Eranikus.

Shooting a glance to Lady Arach, Kwea raised a brow in question. Arach was the elder here besides Haretsich and she would probably have a plan. If not… there was always Kwea’s run and attack plan. That usually worked unless they ran straight into a lightsaber.

Tags: Darth_wanderguard QueenSabe7 Moonspun Dragon dragonsith13 panta1978

 

IC: Jwob Sebb, Holocron and Abeloth (Combo post)
Inside Jwob's mind

"MINE!" heard Jwob. He thought, "That's not the holocron. That's a female voice. Not any voice I've ever heard before, but I so want to serve her." Jwob felt the holocron slipping away. "Wait!" he thought, "Who is that. A second entity in my head? That's not acceptable." He continued to long for her though. "Who was she? Where did she come from? It's not Bellorum. It's not anyone I've ever known."

"Oh you've always known me, my love. I'm your friend, I used to speak to you as a child. You imagined me gone, but I am certainly not." In his minds eye, a beautiful Ithorian snaked a hand to cup his chin and turn his face to her warm eyes. "Accept me, and not that whispering creature that offers you little for your very soul. I can make you belong in this galaxy, in this Empire of Sith."

Feeling a shift it's focus' shifted. Within the realms of minds eyes dozens of heads looked up at the distant portal that was the connection to their students mind and watched it waver, thin, and wear. Another presence was crowding the mental landscape that was so fertile that it called it's own. Then it was there. It's form took shape, influenced as it was by the ways of the feelings and things about. It was form it had not worn nor thought of in a long, long time. Yet it was there to see the two. To listen to the new one. 'Creature I am. Yet souls I never take. I nurture, am teacher. Many Lords have I taught over eons. You made a vow, a pledge and a promise, and I rejected it and instead take less. She would take all and leave not even an lasting echo. Think my pupil. THINK!'

The Ithorian woman did not give Jwob chance to respond. "He counsels you think, I counsel you feel. You can feel my love, Jwob. My love is all, my love is everything." Her second hand stroked the side of his face, and she took a step in front of him, blocking off the Holocron. "You know me, and you can know me better..." She smiled with two mouths, such a large smile.

It was a beautiful smile. So warm. Such as he hadn't seen in such a long time with these single-mouth folks. Yet Jwob couldn't get over the feeling that he was between two bickering parents. They both wanted him, his mind. This all started when he opened his mind. He needed to close it. He needed no one. He felt small. He wanted to be smaller.

The winsome Ithorian felt his desire to be small. Her smile grew sad as she spoke. "Do you not want me? Do you not want our children? Our future? What do you choose over me," she said, forlorn. "Please, tell me. Show me, and I shall accept it, if it is truly what you wish. If I can feel they is so, my love. That monster cannot be your future, can it?"

“I am no one's future. I am a stepping stone. Have you forgotten? For thousands of years I do my role as advisor and teacher and on a rare opportunity, I am friend. Never brother, never father, and never lover. To take that role would cheapen my time with any one, no matter how easy it would be to change a mind, to urge or force love or obedience, or with parlor tricks take on a pleasant form as you do. . .mother.” Canting it's head it looked over her shoulder. “As for what he wants. It appears to be an easy request for time. Alone. Shall we both honor that? Can you?”

She hissed softly, sibilant noise that would raise the hair on the back of a neck. "Why would anyone want to be lonely? When one can be loved?" She didn't even look back, simply met eyes with Jwob. "When one can be with me?"

Abeloth took a psychic blow from Manticore and then another from Re'van. A shiver ran through the Ithorian represented here. Its eyes grew black, and she spoke with a voice that was many voices. A deep and guttural voice overrode them all. "Enough of this and your independence." As she grinned malevolently on two mouths her lips met and became one massive teeth laden expression, the hammer retreating into her face and blond hair emerging as it became humanoid. "I shall take, if you will not give unto me." With that her hands stretched out and became tentacles, ensnaring his face and throat and shoving into his mouths, determined to consume him in a flash.

Jwob recoiled. That is not an Ithorian. That is… something else. He gagged and pushed in his mind at the figure he saw. Jwob squeaked out “Help me!”

TAG: Sinrebirth, Mitth_Fisto, Sinrebirth

 

~Approved by the Triumvirate! Tremble at my arrival~

Character Sheet

Name: Darth Invidius [Born as Hrikcanng]
Age: 19 (Considered an adult already by his people's standards)
Sex: Male
Species: Ssi-Ruuk
Height: 6'11"
Weight: 751 lbs.
Occupation: Sith

Physical Description: (I know its a blaster he's holding, but looks almost like a lightsaber lol)

For a generic ssi-ruu picture:

Clothing: Black Single-Shoulder Bandoleer
Weapons: Single Red Lightsaber, it has three prongs at the beam emitter forming a triangle together and a vicious hook at the end of the hilt that he can use to slash with should he feel so inclined
Abilities: Physically powerful and quickly gaining strength within the Force, a feat considered impossible for his species at one time till his birth; Invidius boasts all the power one would expect of a Redscale in combat, while employing some skill in the arts of stealth due to his predatory nature and racial ability of being harder to sense when alone or in pairs naturally…add in Force enhanced Stealth and he truly was hard to detect.

Biography: Born Hrikcanng, this Ssi-Ruu caused a bit of a stir the moment his attunement to the Force appeared. It was long held in belief that, as a species, they were blind to it. Of course, being a living being, that was untrue. But there had never been one able to manipulate the Force before or it had been so long it had passed into a forgotten legend. It was debated whether or not he was an ill omen, with a large group of the Elder's Conclave pushing for his death as an infant. In the end, however, it was decided he was a good one. He was given more honor and special training growing up than any other Redscale, despite their already honorable military caste status, in Lwhekk history.

They taught him everything. Combat, Espionage, Politics. They told him greatness was meant for him. With his connection to the Force, they truly felt he was unbound by the rules of consecration. He had no fear of his spirit wandering space eternally should he die off planet.

"You have no limits, Hrikcanng. There is only…more."

And that is precisely what he wants. More. More. MORE! More knowledge, more power, more skills. More prestige, more everything. And thus far, everything he has set himself toward, he has gained. The Force was the blade he used to hack apart the chains of limitation to blaze his trail in galactic history. Upon reaching the peak of Ssi-Ruu training, they told him to go. To learn, to grow, and to come back and share the wealth of his power with the Imperium as a whole. With him as the spearhead, the ssi-ruu would rise again as an unstoppable wave!

Problem was, they underestimated him. They taught him too much and too well and thus he has no intention of bringing such wealth back. No, he only wants…more. He left his home planet in search of a teacher in the Force, to grow his power. Hrikcanng would return to Lwhekk only if it proved advantageous. And in time, throughout his travel and adventures, he has finally found the Sith Empire. "Darkness is the path of cultivation. With the Dark Side, I will learn more. I will know it all and I shall be invincible." Such was the basic concepts of his thought pattern. His only obstacle? To get noticed.

But that too was inevitably gained. On the planet of Coruscant, he arrived amidst the turmoil of battle. Jedi, Sith, Imperial Guards, and other warriors were all over! All he wanted was a chance to prosper. As he watched, he was ambushed. With a number of misunderstandings that could not be cleared up in time, he found himself the subject of punishment by the hands of the Imperial Guards who thought him a Sith. At the same time, Yevethan warriors thought him with the Guards. They battled each other, he was caught in the middle. Even by the time both sides discovered him actively fighting both factions off, the bloodlust had taken over. No one cared. It was kill or be killed. Twenty yevethan warriors. Thirty Imperial Guards. One Ssi-Ruu wanderer who possessed no weapons due to spaceport regulations. Your guess who stood alone at the end.

The conflict raged, ending near the infamous Senate Building where a Legendary Jedi Grandmaster and a Famous Sith High Lord dueled not far away. Despite their own duel, it would seem his own fight was not altogether unnoticed.

At the culmination of battle rage and blood lust, Hrikcanng sat and rested, his eyes ablaze. His thirst peaked. And when a certain zabrak came to him with the opening of a door he had been seeking after completing their own tasks; he instead rose:

As Darth Invidius.

And from his new master, Darth Manticore, he learned to want something else besides just having more. Invidius wants To Hunt.

Class: Warrior
Level: 10
Skills: As Follows --

Tier 1

Shii-Cho
Shien/Djem So
Force Push/Pull
Force Jump
Force Sprint
Force Stealth
Force Rage

 

IC: Darth Anark

A flashback to the past…
2 BBY
Coruscani Pilot Institute, Coruscant


A nineteen year old Kade Etraa stepped off the TIE simulator knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d flunked. A middle aged man wearing a pristine grey uniform and gleaming black boots shook his head and pursed his lips as he scribbled on a data pad.

Kade smiled through his frustration.

“I’ve… been suffering with insomnia this week. My reflexes are a little off. I could take it agai—“

The examiner held up a finger in protest and silently shook his head before moving along to the next simulator where a confident looking female with her hair wrapped in a tight bun stood with her arms behind her back and a winning smile on her face. Kade could feel that all too familiar rage begin to brew inside him, yearning to reach the surface and erupt like a volcano. He breathed heavily through his mouth and marched toward the rooms exit.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, there he was, Grek Torrah, flanked by his buddies, the three of them blocking the exit door. Grek was a tall, well-built young fellow with shiny locks of jet black hair which he slicked back and a… defined nose that Kade always thought made him look rather amusing. He wasn’t amused today though. He’d failed the TIE navigation assessment for the second time and he was only allowed to sit it twice due to special circumstances. Torrah had always had a vendetta against him, their personalities clashed from day one but where Kade would be happy for the two of them to simply stay out of one anothers way, Grek insisted on antagonizing him at every opportunity.

“So… suppose this is where we part ways, what with me moving onto year two and you likely settling back in with the grey’s on Duros.” Torrah sneered.

Kade gritted his teeth so hard it felt like they could shatter in his mouth. He picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder, weaving an arm in-between the three to open the door. Grek put a palm on Kade’s chest and leaned in so close that he could feel his breath hit him as he spoke.

“The Empire doesn’t recruit dimwits, pal. They should have saved you the disappointment and told you that a year ago.”

His words were followed by a sort of sympathetic expression which morphed into a menacing grin. It took all of Kade’s inner strength not to retaliate but he kept his composure and slinked past them and out of the door.

***​

​

He lay his bag down on the floor of his dormitory room and threw himself on the bed, gazing up at a blank ceiling.

The Empire doesn’t recruit dimwits, pal.

He heard it repeated inside his head. His breathing was becoming more rapid as he lay motionless still staring at the ceiling, the breaths becoming shorter and more audible until he let out a low groan which grew into a violent wail. Kade got up from the bed with lightning speed and used his arm to sweep everything off his desk, he picked up a decorative ornament and threw it at a shelf which collapsed, littering the floor with study materials and bottles that had been collecting dust for weeks. He trudged over to a mirror on the wall, tears rolling down his cheeks and still screaming, he bashed his head against the mirror and recoiled when it smashed, a few shards hitting the floor, then he bashed it again a second, third and fourth time. The fourth time his head hit the mirror the screaming ceased and he stood hyperventilating for a moment as he gazed at his crooked reflection through the shards of glass that had survived the beating. Blood trailed down from his forehead and rested on his upper lip before dropping onto the floor.

He witnessed a flicker in his own eyes in his reflection, a flicker of darkness that alarmed him and exhilarated him all at once.

***​

​

The medical center was located in a separate building from the dormitories, he was going to say he’d tripped and fell to explain the gash in his forehead. If worst came to worst he could just say he'd been in a fight, it wouldn't be the first one. Either way he was going to need stitches.

It was dark, and an unusually cold night for Coruscant’s temperate climate. Kade walked among the perfectly lined trees, the walkway kindled by a hundred tiny lights embedded into the ground. Half way through his journey he heard gradual footsteps behind him and somehow knew who it was without looking back.

“Whoa! What happened to your face?” Grek hollered at him, his pace quickening to catch up.

Kade ignored him and kept walking, also trying his best to ignore the fresh fury that was building up just from the sound of the idiot’s voice.

“Hey!” He was grabbed by the shoulder and yanked back to face Grek. “I’m talking to you!”

Kade reached out to shove him, releasing the pent up anger. Grek was sent flying backward several feet without being touched. Kade’s eyes widened. He looked at his hands in amazement and then back to the man lying on his back on the path.

“How the—“

Grek looked embarrassed, his pride hurt by his fall. He shakily started to get to his feet and in a moment of madness Kade sprinted toward him and knocked him back to the ground. He pinned the mans arms down with his knees and wrapped his palms tightly around his throat and pressed hard. Torrah’s eyes were wild with fear as he gasped for air. Kade clenched his teeth as he pressed harder. The man’s broken gasps became fewer and far between until Kade felt the body go limp as he held onto his neck. He maintained his grip for a few moments before slowly releasing it and clutching his own hair in his hands and rising to his feet again.

His entire body began to tremble as panic set in, sweat beading on his brow as he paced up and down the path, his peer laying lifeless on the ground.

“What have I done?” He asked himself aloud.

The only way he could think of to hide his crime at this point…

was the institute's trash compactor.

 

IC: Darth Rozic
Limbo

As the fog lowered to Rozic's knees -or at least where they would be if he had a physical form- he got a better view of what was around him. He seemed to be in an utterly lifeless and desolate space that had been flooded with fog.

"Are you lost?" uttered a nearby creature. As Rozic aligned his sight with it he got a good look at what it was; it seemed t be a stone gargoyle with a slight resemblance to an amphibian creature, mostly because its eyes reminded Rozic if a Nautolon's.

The creature continued talking, it seemed to have a great deal of knowledge about Rozic's current situation. It said that within time Rozic will learn to communicate without a body, but Rozic didn't really want that ability he'd prefer have a body.

What in blazers is happening? Rozic thought to himself as his anxiety grew. What if I never escape? What if I'm stuck with this half frog, half statue for EVER?!

Tag: Sinrebirth

 

IC: Darth Syren
Sith Temple, Central Foyer

Syren stepped over the threshold and into the central foyer following in her Master’s wake. Her sabers remained activated at her sides and vibrated with lethal life. They were, by extension, itching for their next move. The scene laid out in front of her was one of combat and struggle. The Night Herald and Darth Eranikus were locked in an intimate battle, the intensity of which flowed back and forth between the men and rippled outward through the Force. The apprentice felt it move through and around her, once again fueling her barely suppressed rage and eagerness to action.

Her eyes locked on Eranikus. The crazed and unpredictable Sith impostor was here as she suspected he would be. His graying skin and overall decaying appearance told her that over 4 millennia locked in a carbonite freeze had not served him as well as her bout in stasis had served her. She knew of this creature and the insanity he wrought. Her parents, devoted Revanites in her former time, had shared their first hand knowledge of the unruly warrior and it was nothing she recalled as pleasant.

Leaning forward, ready to dash towards the fight at a moment’s notice, Syren felt the momentum turn ever so slightly. It was enough to send Darth Haretisch back off his feet as a powerful surge of Force Lightning separated the opponents. She gnashed her teeth as she took in the smoking wound across her comrade’s abdomen. Not removing her gaze from the fallen Lord, she could sense the attention she, Lady Arach and the unfamiliar brunette that had joined the fray were now receiving. As Eranikus began to speak, she immediately lifted her chin and swung her focus to the enemy.

"The weak die, and the strong rule. I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. Bow to me as your lord, your king, and the chosen of your new god and know that it is better to kneel at the feet of the devil than to be in his path."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her fellow Sith struggling to move. He was injured… and weak. Her head tilted to the side in thought as he countered the general’s words.

"He lies. He'll kill you all whether you kneel or not. Bare your neck and it will only be easier for him to cut."

Lies. Syren had known many false truths; ones told to her and ones of her own making. She knew that they were often a necessary evil and now… this was one of those moments. Her eyes moved down to her crimson blades and all of a sudden extinguished both, clipping the hilts back to her belt. Not a single glance was cast at the pair of young women who stood by or at the Sith Lord that still lay upon the floor as she began to move forward. Approaching the charlatan at a quick but cautious pace she halted when only a few meters were left between them.

Standing so close, no attempt was made to hide her confusion, anger or any other passionate emotion that coursed through her. No need for subterfuge and no uncertainty to mask. This being will see her as she truly is. Looking directly into a pair of yellowed eyes, she spoke. “I wish to serve only the strong. I see now that it is no longer these… pretenders.” Syren absently flicked a hand towards her companions as she spat his own word back at him. “I acknowledge you as my Lord and Master and pledge myself to you.”

At that, Syren confidently moved another step closer and took a knee at his feet. Bowing low, her right hand fell to the floor and inched ever so slowly to the top of her right boot. Reaching what she sought, she delicately grasped the handle and began to slide the vibroblade free of its holster. Muscles coiled and twitched in anticipation as she fought to keep her breathing steady. Be this a foolish attempt or something completely unexpected, she did not care. A previous thought was then reiterated through her mind: They will not take from me what I’ve only just found.

Now!

In one fluid motion, Syren thrust the deadly weapon forward as she sprang up from her knee. The blade left her hand in a blur on what she knew to be a true path, with the intent to soar over the short space and pierce the skull of Eranikus right between his wild eyes.

TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Moonspun Dragon Halle Dray dragonsith13

 

IC: Darth Kronos and Jwob

Combo with DarthIshyZ

One task of the mission was complete. And despite the fact he was shaking with rage and power, Kronos was also able to feel a small hint of pride. He had completed their first task for them, all by himself as well. Though, that part mostly had to do with the Lorekeeper being a complete and utter coward. He could sense him, hiding behind a pillar, or something. Why some people actually respected him was totally foreign to Kronos.

The Lorekeeper came up to him, probably smiling, showing his disgusting teeth once again. He gave him a "good job", all the while marveling at the sheer violence that had happened there. He was especially wide-eyed at the more mangled body, the one cut halfway in two from the chest up. Let's see him try and to that!

He probably could, now that Kronos thought about it.

The Lorekeeper was confronted by Bellorum, as the two proceeded to talk about... lipstick, or something. Whatever. Let those two discuss whatever trivial things they want to.

These things were of no concern, anyway. Now, it was time to blow up the artillery units. He had thought they would use the suicide vests to explode the units. After all, they would most likely give off a wide range, given they were made to kill as many people as possible. But, it had turned out they did not need to do that. They had conveniently brought along some of their own explosives. Which was good, sort of.

There didn't need to be a sacrifice, though he hoped it would be the Lorekeeper if there had to be one.

And, so, part two of the mission began. Jwob was the one holding the most explosives, acting as both a delivery boy, and someone blowing up those damn gun emplacements. He looked semi-capable of doing this, which was surprising. Given the fact he didn't even have his own lightsaber, Kronos didn't expect him to have any form of proper training.

Jwob fought with his compatriots. It had been quite a while since he had dealt with bombs, but his experience, and a good bit of prodding by the holocron, helped him blow up the second gun emplacement. Then the call came.

"MINE!"

"That was aimed at me!" Jwob thought. He felt the battle on the surface. He felt the battle inside. He was sure people were speaking, no, yelling at him. He could not feel them. He could do nothing. He sat down. He blinked his eyes. He didn't move. Maybe he was being carried, he didn't know. Everything outside was... outside.

As Kronos was aiding the others, he was able to notice Jwob having some kind of violent fit. That was what it looked like anyway. He might have been dancing because of their probable victory with the gun emplacements. That was doubtful. It was like he suddenly had a mental breakdown. It could be weird or completely normal. He didn't know this alien.

It continued to get more serious, and he knew he had to step in. Kronos stepped towards Jwob, yelling: "What the hell are you doing, you two-faced psycho?"



Once he reached the creature, Kronos knew Jwob couldn't be kept in the middle of an explosion heavy area. He grabbed him by the legs and back, slinging him over his shoulder. And, he began to carry him out of there. Five seconds in, and he was already beginning to feel the strain. Luckily, he did not have to walk or run far, or even have to dodge any sudden flying debris.

Thankfully, they reached a safer spot. Once there, the fit only got worse. It got so bad, in fact, that Kronos had to resort to literally dropping the thing onto the ground, letting its face smash into the ground as it happened.

Or, rather, faces.

Jwob started to buck and squirm. It was as if he was wrestling with something. Something very powerful. Convulsions consumed him.

Kronos watched. He knew he couldn't do anything, and he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to. It wasn't his problem. But, he and Bellorum clearly knew each other, much more personally than her and Kronos did. Though, that wasn't saying much.

Something bigger and more evil was coming. And, Kronos wasn't ready for it.

TAG: DarthIshyZ Lady Belligerent Mikaboshi Mitth_Fisto (cause he's here too!)

 

Combine with Sinrebirth and greyjedi125

IC: Re'van
Depths

The black ooze had left them for now, dissapearing back within the shadows from where it had come from. Re'van was busy drawing in the Force energies around her, restocking herself from the use of energies she had endured earlier. Darth Insipid dropped down to the rest of them stood. 'We have done it. I doubt they have anything that can -' Surprise, a new sound. A sound of a repulsorlift was apparent. 'Hold,' Insipid told the group. As they waited to see who or what was coming to visit next, the few people still with Darth Insipid offered them medpacs and stim shots. Usually, Re'van would push away such things, but she took them both now. She had no idea what was coming, but she knew that it had drained them to just deal with the creature earlier. If there was something even more powerful out there, then Re'van would need to be ready for it. The after effects she could handle on her own later. They needed to survive. Re'van could ill afford to be anything but at full strength. But what came out of the repulser lift was surprising. A young woman. But, something in the Force read wrong about her. But Re'van could not put her finger to it. But evidently, she was no surprise to lord Insipid. He addressed her. 'Natasi.' 'Aden,' she replied, Insipid made a face. The woman continued, 'Aden Kya, isn't it? That mewling teenager who decided that the whole universe 'sucked' and so he would declare himself a name that reflected that.' The woman stepped from the speeder and walked forward. 'But Darth 'Sucker' was too silly, so he picked the most arch and frankly solipsistic word he could come up with.' Re'van was truly getting annoyed with the mind games, and dealing with someone else's mistakes. She could also feel Darth Ruin, bristled in the corner of her mind, while Kalara, whom Re'van she began to wonder was losing hers, giggled again. Insipid and the strange woman bantered across words, while Re'van, feeling much better, began to position herself. Re'van fed upon her growing fury of being once more drawn into a conflict that was not hers. To fools who saw themselves as gods. Even though Insipd told them to hold, she still moved. But even as she slowly walked, moving herself closer to Lord Manticore, she was not prepared for what happened next. The strange woman lazily turned her palm down, and pushed her hand down. Insipid simply disappeared, and he dropped down through the floor, and probably several more below. Re'van did not even have time to blink, when suddenly the woman was standing next to her.

The woman simply looked at Re'van and she was there, right by her, and left arm, which had grabbed her wrist, was no longer an arm. Like some bizzare creature in a bad horror holo-vid, her arm had splintered into a writhing mass of about a dozen tentacles, some small, some large, all cloying around the upper face and throat. As there was still something holding her hand, Re'van vaguely noted one tenticle was getting rather personal, attempting to reach down underneath her armor. But the two that really held her attentions were the two trying to enter her nose and mouth. Whatever actions happening around her dissapeared. Whatever words were being spoken, held no meaning for her. Her anger which had exploded earlier, was now a fire blazing, consuming all. She drew upon her own personal rage, and a personal fierceness of animal instincts. She exploded into a flurry of motion.Two hands still held her silent sabers, and she ignighted them one blade slicing at the tenticles invading her, the other a direct stab into the woman's midsection. And she drew deep into her Sith knowledge, and called for the dark orbs once again. But this time, one very large one, and she called it into being between herself and the strange woman, where all the tenticales came from. She did not think it would kill the woman. But perhaps it would be enought. Enought to remove a few tenticles, and give Re'van space to move. She bit down on anything close to her, and spat while she leaned back against the tenticle holding her wrist.

Abeloth could not have smiled more at Re'van. It was a simple exertion for her to negate the dark orb, for it was energy based, and so was Abeloth; sentient energy given form; transcended physical form, she had. Of course, bodies still hurt, but not nearly enough to bother her.

A tentacle took the wrist of the blade aiming to cut at her and tightened, bending the wrist away from her torso to the point of breaking it. A flush of tentacles were cut away, and Re'van spat at her, but Abeloth simply brought around her second limb in a flash and enmeshed her other three arms, pulling Re'van close towards her glinting teeth and black eyes.

Abeloth was love.

And she would love Re'van.

Her lips pursed into a kiss, and energy was sucked from Re'van's mouth. But at least Ruin and Kalara were not bothering her; the amulet lay twitching in one of Abeloth's severed tentacles, wriggling its way back towards its master.
Manticore was just about to launch himself back into battle, when a torrent of sith lightning combined with waves of cryokinesis decimated the rest of their ooze covered adversaries.

To say he was impressed by such exquisite show of force, would be an understatement. The zabrak High Lord looked at both Emperor Insipid and Darth Re’van then flashed them an impish grin. A rarity for the zabrak, and fleeting as well.

The motion had tugged at his reopened wounds and caused him to wince reflexively, something he wouldn’t normally do, or demonstrate. Of a truth, the battle of Coruscant had taken quite a toll on him, and he was far from recovered.

Almost begrudgingly, the zabrak accepted the stims and bacta patches. He considered it a temporary salve; acceptable in their current situation. They had gone from one battle to another with no recovery time in between.

The Emperor seemed to celebrate their apparent victory, for there was no sign of the sentient ooze. The name finally coming to the zabrak’s mind. Mnngal-Mnngal. Insipid had whispered it before. That, and the late Lord Anguish made sure he learned the names of all the creatures and beings which induced terror in the hearts of the powerful. Everyone needed to know their ‘place’ in the universe.

Insipid grew quiet and Manticore followed the Emperor’s gaze.

If there was a keen wrongness in the Force where the ooze was concerned, what he felt now eclipsed that sensation many times over and then again. A speeder ferrying a woman he did not recognize had arrived.

Apparently, the Sith Emperor and this woman were acquainted, somehow, as they spoke each others name. Manticore’s eyes narrowed and he found himself reaching for his weapon. He could not explain why, but the sheer presence of this woman sent his alarms blaring. Was he the only one sensing this? Clearly not.

Suddenly, the woman gestured and The Sith Emperor disappeared, through the bulkhead floor.

Impossible!

Manticore slashed with lightning speed with his lightsaber staff, but the woman had vanished in a blink. She had made no movement for him to track. Manticore turned and just managed to register the woman, who had enveloped Re’van in tentacles, before what passed for her visage and twinkling stars for eyes, took hold of him.

She was in his mind, projecting her voice like a roaring storm, so powerful it was, that it obliterated all other senses and concerns. She infused immeasurable fear into him, she overwhelmed him and taxed his mental stamina with primal sensations of failure and despair. Manticore fought back as best he could, attempting to burn everything she through at him with his burning ocean of hate.

Was that her roaring inside him still, or was he also screaming in vehement defiance? It was hard to tell.

Manticore saw his enemies, all of them, chasing him. Grabbing and clawing, ripping and gauging his flesh. This was reality. They were skinning him alive. He tried to evade, but not avoid, get himself into a more defensible position, counter strike, but he had killed hundreds if not thousands of beings, and they all sought his life in bloody vengeance.

Yet, he remained defiant. He realized, through an agony which would drive any other being mad, that there was no death, no release from this living torture. No hope. No escape.

‘Become one with Mother…..’

Such words taunted him. They promised a released he was being tricked to crave.

‘Keep you. Love you.’

Where was the Void the sith were promised? Unbearable and unimaginable, maddening agony. He could not escape into his own mind. His body was overtaxed many times over. Release…..he needed release.

‘Become…MINE.’

NO!!!

Above all things, it was his singular self identity, which was his priceless possession. The one factor that defined his all. He had gone through the deepest abyss of Hades and back, defied his former master and slew him, to claim his self sovereignty- and nothing, would take that from him. He refused surrender it, his will and self possession, even if he had to endure such torture for eternity.

In the haze of pain was Abeloth revealed. She who possessed power beyond imagining, who had ascended only to be cast down. Though she possessed a most enviable might, she was an agent of ‘chaos’. Manticore, was a creature of indomitable discipline and order.

The Mother could, on a whim or fancy, break his body and splinter his mind, but the zabrak’s spirit was set, defaulted as unyielding, to the principles of chaos.

Abeloth felt the psychic blow as if it was upon her very being. While a physical slash would hurt the body that held her, she was but energy. But Manticores refusal of her was a direct hit upon herself, and it broke her kiss of Re'van. In that brief moment Abeloth's body rippled with anguish and she lost form; more tentacles sprouted from her waist and with a whipcrack sought to crash into Manticore's sternum and likely split it, if it found contact.

But Abeloth was already turning away, towards the ship, with the intention to hop within, carrying her prize. Get away from Manticore; consume Re'van; acquire a new body; ascend to Empress of the Sith...

... and then Goddess.

Re'van managed to sever several tentacles, and had also heralded an attack to the woman's chest, but her central attack failed. A tentacle took the wrist of the blade aiming to cut at her and tightened, bending the wrist away from her torso.
Re'van hissed as suddenly another set of arms surrounded her, and pulled her towards the strange woman. The dark orb suddenly disappeared. The woman seemed to have dispelled it. It was strangely quiet now, and in the quietness Re'van's mind struggled with the implications of what was happening to her. The Emperor's story.

The mother. Was... was this Abeloth? The one a Skywalker helped to defeat? And Kalara, had reacted when the Dark Lord had mentioned the father and son. Was he/she one of the trapped ones? The seals?

The strange woman lips pursed into a kiss, and Re'van could feel energy beginning to leave her. No!! She would not allow this woman to drain her! She refused Kalara. She would refuse her. Suddenly, there was a dark surge within the Force, and the woman's body seemed to loose itself. The energy drain suddenly stopped, and Re'van felt waves of pain, joining her own. Was it from the woman? So she COULD feel pain. Then she would feel more. As more tentacles sprouted from her body, aiming at what appeared to be Manticore, Re'van released a volley of needles from her bracer into the woman's face, or any other part she could hit. But that was only a diversion. Re'van drew the anger and pain around her, within her own. She allowed it to wash over her. This woman threated to do more than kill her. To destroy her utterly. To erase everything that was Re'van. Or perhaps even the Sith themselves. Re'van would not submit. She would NEVER submit. She would destroy herself and everything around her before she would allow that to happen. Many had tried to control her. The hunters. The Horde. The Gorog. Dreadwar.

No.

Re'van drew deep within her psyche. Everything around her, pooling her energies, and total loathing for anything and anyone who tried to change her destiny. Re'van's anger anifested into a potent Force Rage. Re'van felt her rage burn hot, the darkside howling in her ears as she felt the Force respond within her, as it always had. Suddenly, there was an icy alm. Re'van unleashed the churning fury she had, releasing them in a direct Force attack, Cryokinesis as she grabbed the woman, as the foul creature began to move once more, leading the way she had come.

Re'van let her body go totally limp as she poured her rage and anger into her attack. The Sorceress probably had a few things to say in the matter as well. And the Sorceress was not the only one to hold extra energies within crystals and holocrons, as amulet around her waist began to grow warm.

"I AM OWNED BY NO ONE!" Re'van screamed, as she poured herself into the attack, while she concentrated within the Force. The portal. The portal needed to be strengthen, so this hing could be sent back into the shadows. Was there one still on Korriban? And what of this Mortis? It was time to find out. Re'van opened herself to the darkness, searching. As she did, she kicked her amulet away from the pair, using just a bit of a Force push, sending it towards the large open area that Insipid had disappeared through. Though both Ruin and Kalara were inside, so was something else. Something perhaps the Emperor could use.

There would always be pain, as that was all that embraced him as Abeloth’s presence receded from his mind. She was recoiling.

Acting purely on reflex, Manticore blocked the whipping tentacle with his left arm and immediately felt his forearm bone shatter and his flesh split open. That brilliant flash of blinding agony empowered him. He knew how to transform pain into dark power.

The zabrak roared aloud and flames burst from his mouth, aimed at Abeloth.

He could feel Revan’s seething anger, much like his own. Her indomitable will. It was a characteristic they both shared. One could see it in their eyes.

“I AM OWNED BY NO ONE!” she screamed. Manticore could not agree more. even if he tried.

In an instant, he saw Re’van use cryokinesis on Abeloth. Her rage was exquisite! and it also inspired him. With swift motions practiced more times than he could could, Manticore used his good hand and activated his weapon. Red blades sparked to life as pyrokinetic flames engulfed the weapon. Manticore infused the force into the weapon and threw it with all his might, guiding it to strike what be believed to be Abeloth’s dark heart.

If she was in anyway affected by Revan’s cryokinesis, the results could be spectacular, not unlike her combined attack with the Emperor.

He knew he could not kill such a being, he was not that foolish or arrogant, but Abeloth could be driven back, wounded, or driven away.

“This is NOT your TIME!! BEGONE from this place!!” He bellowed at her.

Manticore could not see the Emperor, but he knew he was not dead. He would have felt it, just as he’d felt Dreadwar’s death. There had been no sudden power vacuum in the darkside nor a following spike of ascension. The other Sith Lords.

Their presence felt diffused due to his proximity to Abeloth. Right now, there was only Re’van.

Still in full control of his weapon, Manticore sought to drive it deeper into the fallen being, even as he caused the flames to intensify five fold. He was exerting himself, even after not having recovered sufficiently from the battle of Coruscant.

The question was, would it be enough?

If it wasn’t, there were other…more radical options.

Still, he continued his impaling efforts with the flame wreathed saber-staff.

Hopefully they’d bought enough time for the escape pods to be launched and the others to escape. Within hi tattooed chest, something strange seemed to stir. A sensation. What he felt was something he could not quite describe. He was exulted.

Here, He was. Fighting for the Sith Empire of his time. A High Lord, against Abeloth, a fallen celestial being. Beside him, was Re’van. An equally indomitable and relentless ally, who fought for her own cause, as well as the sith. Both equally unwilling to yield to their opponent.

Manticore smiled for a moment, satisfied. He did not dwell, but savored, then poured on his bristling hate. As he began to roar while focusing his intensity, he knew; Far sweeter would be the scent of Abeloth’s death, but he would settle for a pound of her charred and ruined flesh.

Abeloth barely noticed the braced of weapons bouncing from her head; she only noticed Re'van go limp in her hands, and she leaned into the moment, ignoring her assembling power, greedily seeking to plunder and consume; the burning out of the amulets against both their skins would cinder flesh, leaving ringlet circles on their flesh; agony to Re'van but nothing to Abeloth, who did not even notice Re'van gaining purchase in her mind; she did not even care.

Re'van was in a space whereupon there was an empty courtyard, but she was seeing it through Abeloth's eyes, though it was as if Abeloth was looking at the courtyard through water, rippling away. In that courtyard were three; a tall, aged man, a woman in flowing golden robed, and an arch thin man, each directing their attention at an Umbaran that could only be Darth Ruin. The aged man spoke. 'Welcome to our humble world, Master Phanius. A Jedi Master? It has been some time. Was it Xendor, the last one we met? Or was it that young man, Tenebrae, was it?'

The woman shook her head. 'Tenebrae was no Jedi.' She shot a look of disdain at the younger man, all grey skin and red eyes and blackness to him. 'And Xendor was another of our sins.'

'The great game is never over, my sister.'

The father of the two held a hand to them both. 'Not in front of guests.'

The vision swam out of focus, but Re'van was given plenty to think about - but Abeloth had not rejected her, she was simply so focused on consuming Re'van.

And so the cyrokinesis caught her full on, and her tentacles began to fray under the ice as she strained to get away. She flayed her arms in annoyance rather than pain, distracted from the presence of Re'van in her mind entirely, and then a flaming lightsaber come spear burst through her. Abeloth took a moment to glance down at the offending tool, looked back up at the ranting and raving Manticore as if it was the first time she had truly noticed him, and she flared her eyes. She arched an eyebrow and drove a blow of telekinesis at him which was more wavefront than shove, designed to catch his splintered arm and drive it into him - all as he shoved at the weapon which his hatred, more buffeting akin to Re'van's, a light breeze to her attention.

Abeloth let it burst through, redirected it at the woman so that Manticore's exertion would drive at Re'van. The hole within her sent her off-balance, insofar as much as the holes in her face and the frozen off chunks of her added to it. The flame-spear would require Re'van to draw out of Abeloth's mind to react, unless she could maintain purchase and dodge.

For her part, Abeloth rocked on her feet and stepped back from Re'van as her guts recoiled against the intrusion to her natural body structure, eyes darting for the amulet even as it clinked, quite innocently, down the hole she had made for Insipid. For a brief moment she, too, was distracted.

His blazing lightsaber seemed to have no effect on Abeloth, as she let it burst through her form, then directed it at Revan.

Manticore grit his teeth as he set his jaw. He was still controlling his weapon as well and exerted himself as he veered it away from his fellow Sith, he twisted his hand then, causing the blades to separate, though they remained ignited.

Abeloth sent a wavefront of pure telekinetic force, which he sensed and felt as it rippled in his direction. Manticore managed to throw up a double defense, which combined tutaminis and Force Barrier.

Manticore did not resist, but instead, rode the force of the wave as he slid ever backwards. Abeloth’s wave was unimaginably powerful. Manticore had mastered defensive techniques, both through Sith and Teras Kasi teachings, and still, Abeloth’s power smashed through his defenses after a moment. The impact, though dampened by tutaminis, still buffeted him with bone crushing intensity, that it caused him to scream in defiance, igniting his force rage like a thermal detonation as a means of forcing himself to remain conscious and still battle worthy.

Finally, Manticore raised a leg and kicked behind him, to aid in cushioning and stopping his momentum. He hit the bulkhead against the far wall, which buckled all around him due to Abeloth’s force wave. The pain coursing through him would have cost him to lose focus, even consciousness, were it not for his Force Rage.

Abeloth seemed to care nothing for him at all and treated him like a nuisance. That was something he could use to his advantage. She seemed focused on Revan, though the fallen celestial did seem distracted at the moment. If Abeloth wanted Revan, then he would have to help foil that particular outcome.

Manticore’s eyes flashed as he brought his focus on his dual weapons, which flew to him and hit the weakened areas of the bulkhead around him at opposite ends. The scarlet energy blades bore into the bulkhead, as lightsabers would, and began to rotate counter clockwise. Within moments, they would create a breach.

The zabrak High Lord decided on a different tactic as he began to approach the Senator’s ship. The fallen celestial was too mighty to defeat simply, a fact which only spurred him on.

Hold on Revan! Fight her!!

It appeared that Abeloth was not fond of the cold. Perhaps it was time to drastically change the ambiance.

Pain. Pain let her know that she was still herself. And it fueled her Force rage as her skin burned. She excepted it. Welcomed it. Let it was over and through her. And the pain made her feel whole. But it was far away. She was aware of it, but her mind was in a different landscape. As perhaps like one of her errant spirits, who watched things from afar, she watched as the scene played out in front of her minds eye. Looking thru Abeloth's eyes perhaps, as the scene rippled before her like running water. Like time.

Looking at them, she could guess the beings assembled in the courtyard. The old man. The Father. The Son, dark and twisted. The Daughter, looking regal. But of interesting note, was that of the Umbaran. Of Darth Ruin. But before. When he was a Jedi Master. Master Phanius. Re'van listened hungrly, still aware of what was going on around her, but allowing the darkness to guide her, and to gain purchase to what was going on within this new landscape. Father kept the balance between the siblings. But 'mother' upset the balance. Caused chaos. Distruction. Had the Son helped? Re'van could see why she wanted the amulet now. This was important. The secret that Ruin had not wanted to give? Perhaps.

Re'van did not stop her attack, as she continued to drop the temperature even further. As she had gone limp, Abeloth seemed to follow her, even as a weapon pierced Abeloth's chest. If Abeloth took notice to it, it was if it was a simple annoyance. But Re'van noted it still did damage to the body. And the body could remain stable only for so long, before it would begin to fail. They might not kill the woman, but they might be able to drive her back. Back into the nameless realm she had come from. Re'van's icy effects were also taking their toll on the creature as well. Re'van suddenly felt as Abeloth rocked on her feet, as the woman stepped back. Re'van took the moment further, as she suddenly swung her body weight over to the side, moving herself sideways, even as her arms swiftly moved about to place her body to the side of the woman, and away from whatever was coming through the woman's body. Re'van knew her mental link was important. Possibly, the most important link to stopping her. Re'van continued her icy attack as well, dropping the temperature even lower as she held on tightly. Re'van's eyes flared as she felt the Darkside respond to her. Re'van placed one had on the woman's face, as she continued to press her attack. It was the same dance that she and the Sorceress had done earlier. But now it was her dance. The portal. Re'van strengthened her purchase that she held, both physically and mentally. Her rage against the mental and physical intrusion was both her strength and her perchance, and she bellowed her refusal to submit as she sought to battle against the woman, as she sought the portal.


TAG: Sinrebirth

 

Draconis
Great Temple, Great Hall/Central Foyer

Silent... watching... studying... waiting...

Black lifeless eyes followed the play throughout the foyer, this was not a fight to be won through strength of arms. The silver clad figure had demonstrated his prowess.
Thus the situation was not progressing as one would like... granted the disciples that nipped at this antagonists heels were no longer a threat. Ever still one of their Order's greatest leaders was beaten back and nearly broken by an impressive show of strength and will by this dark one named Eranikus occupying the center stage. "...know that it is better to kneel at the feet of the devil than to be in his path." A performance and offer put forth by Eranikus as he stood brooding over the room as if indomitable. "He lies," Draconis' eyes subtly shifted to see the Lord Haretisch voicing out a warning as he struggled to pull himself up. "He'll kill you all whether you kneel or not. Bare your neck and it will only be easier for him to cut." Still reeling from the encounter with Eranikus. Draconis had noticed the othe Sith in the foyer. Two more Sith both young women, of definite prowess. No doubt surveying and assessing the scene.

Lord Haretisch was right, there was no honor in Eranikus' vain offer. Self serving and full of himself, listening to himself proclamate to those he saw as inferior. There was only one goal Eranikus was a being of immense power, beating out a Triumvir member in an outright duel of the force and blades. Everyone had a weakness however... clearly though his abilities in a frontal assault or managing one was not one. Draconis quickly mused over the unfolding events, processing the next subsequent moves. There was no overpowering him... Nothing that they could hurl at him would break him, centuries of rage and confinement in conjunction with his mastery of the force would not yield a weakness in this fight. There had to be another way.

And there... perhaps it was... Draconis watched as one of the warriors, a young woman, whom he did not recognize extinguished her sabers and approached Eranikus. “I wish to serve only the strong. I see now that it is no longer these… pretenders.” The young woman approached... spitting back his own words at him... “I acknowledge you as my Lord and Master and pledge myself to you.” Interesting... Draconis continued to watch as he was eager to join the play, but remained silent and still... searching for that moment.

Before the young woman Sith warrior had even produced the dagger, Draconis was moving towards Eranikus and her in a blur. Sprung from the shadows, a direct and calculated path. Knowing exactly what was transpiring... before it was happening. The silver clad warrior with sabers surrounding his belt.

As he closed quickly, Draconis could feel the strike and emotion flowing from her... it was true and direct, aimed at piercing the skull of Eranikus. Draconis' spirit and force infused blade sliced across the axis of Eranikus as it was unsheathed. Draconis moved pass Eranikus from behind as his strike went low aiming for Erankus' legs, the edge of the blade set to slice right at the back of the knees of Eranikus simultaneously timing the the strike with the young woman's. attempt aimed at impaling Eranikus' skull between the eyes. The attack from Draconis was more a glancing one, meant to occupy and draw attention. The attack clearly having the potential to take Eranikus at the knees or land a glancing blow.

They would need to the others to engage quickly if they hoped to find a true opening...

@panta1978, Halle Dray, Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7, Darth_wanderguard

 

A comborooni with Lord Sinrebirth
IC: The Lorekeeper and Abeloth, the Bringer of Chaos
Elsewhere, and yet where he always was

Just as the use of 'mine' reverberated across the decades, so, too, did it across Moraband. It found purchase in those with a more spiritual bend, or simply individuals who straddled the line between life and death.

And one place it buried into was the Lorekeeper.

In his minds eye, separate from what he was actually busy doing, which he still had to deal with, she came into being, a beautiful blind woman with grey eyes, enough to stir even the loins of someone as aged as he. 'I can feel your connection to my beloved, my dear.'

Corporeal became Darth Andeddu, nose hacked from his face, staff to hand, as he trust it at her. 'Begone, witch.'

'Why should I leave?' Abeloth, for that was all it could it be, the Loremasters mind told him. Her smile was beatific, as she strode forward and tapped a finger to the staff tip and nudged it aside. 'When the so-called Loremaster wants me here? To tell him what he does not know? To lay with him, and make us one?'

Abeloth stepped closer to Andeddu, flicked a finger, sending the spirit out of this mindspace. 'I have what you want my love, come to me.'

At first he took only a tentative step but quickly hesitated, clearly terrified of of Abeloth, but without Andeddu his strength quickly faded and he yielded to her call. It was simply too much for him to resist, and he knew full well the dangers, he knew the stories of Abeloth.

"Yes." He called to her as he rushed to her embrace, opening himself completely to the being.

Her arms outstretched and became tentacles, and before the hug enclosed they were wrapping around him. She had correctly guessed; he was nothing but an old man without Andeddu. He would do for now, and she greedily unfolded her mind to the Loremaster as her smile stretched to her ears and grew teeth and her pupils expanded to blacken her eyes and stars replaced her irises.

She hoped his fear would ripple out as she pulled him close. It would feed her, balance out the effort of expanding herself.

Simultaneously however, her heart was exposed to the Loremaster; a blackened husk filled with fear and loss and heartbreak, an unending loneliness that shone like a red spot upon a white blanket.

In seizing him so readily she exposed not only her nature but her soul, unshielded and undefended.

They were not alone however. Cruor, in his mask, had also fed upon the fear emanating from the Lorekeeper, he needed more. As he fed upon his host he found the space where Andeddu once claimed, and sought to occupy it himself. Through the Lorekeeper it sensed his danger, it sensed it's danger, but it also sensed opportunity.

It could feel her suffering, and he hungered for it.

The Lorekeeper felt Cruor awaken within, a malevolence he had never known before filled his being and that darkness was focused on Abeloth's rotten heart, with a suddenness he embraced the entity then attacked the blackened husk with a ravenous fury and gorged upon a lifetime of pain.

Abeloth actually writhed in horror as the psychic equivalent of a punch to the gut caught her hard. It was not so much a turning point as a great and incredible twist, a shock and a surprise. Cruor had revealed himself, and seized upon fertile ground. It was a mere moment for Abeloth to realise that between them all she had overextended herself; that any one of her foes would require her full attention.

She had to give these ones that full attention for but a moment. With a turn of an eye, she focused upon Cruor and rebuffed him, but found her power caught in a pendulum between him and others beside. She had to refocus, drive at the connection between her and the Lorekeeper, cut the chord, proverbially - or simply snuff out the old man here and let little Cruor fall away without a host. She opted for the most violent way, a throng of tentacles reaching forward, viper fast to grab at his throat and crush his larynx.

She could feed on him as much as he did on her.

But she would suck him dry.

She did not realise that purchase, that grab of her mental limbs, was now all that was keeping her here - Cruor's blow had all but thrown her clear. Had she focused any other way, she would have been gone, out, out, out.

But instead she had gone for the kill, and by her very tentacle-tips, she would succeed.

The Lorekeeper's psyche reeled as Abeloth tore into it, as did the essence of Cruor. The aged arcanist was the conduit through which the two beings fought, his mind became mere collateral damage in their titanic struggle, and he would be tossed to the side when he was no longer of use to them.

Yet he was aware, and he felt all of it, until eventually what was left of his sanity shattered under the pressures.

The dark cloud of rage which was Cruor surged forward deeper into the mind of it's host and corrupting all it touched, with renewed strength it once again set upon Abeloth with great fury knowing full well that it could never defeat her.

That self-doubt would ordinarily have been enough for Abeloth to snuff him out. To consume him. To end him.

But with her attention divided, with her greed having led her to too many places at a time, it was too insubstantial a thing.

She was buffeted, hit hard and true and sharply into her essence, her grip snapping from the Loremaster, her mind reeling, and before she realized it she was stepping back from him, eyes a ablaze. The backlash of the hit kicked out, and she was knocked onto one foot, balancing precariously in that position, tentacles flailing. 'My beloved, save me. I have one here, one nearby and the other one I will seize when I find her. I have them all; I can do it for you.'

A voice, not of Cruor or the Lorekeeper, not even Andeddu's, boomed. 'No.'

And so Abeloth was expelled, a screech behind her. Behind Cruor and the Loremaster, and Andeddu, as he sought to climb back to his lofty place in the mind of the aged librarian, was a shadowed man, seemingly unclothed but indistinct. It was the Sickness. That plague that Andeddu had managed for them all.

With no more of a word, the shadow dissipated.

With a suddenness that was startling the Lorekeeper returned to the now, his awareness once again within the physical form. He said nothing as he stood there motionless, not far from Dark Lady Bellorum, watching Darth Kronos carry the Ithorian away.

They knew, all of those who dwelt within his mind, who was in Jwob. They knew her now, and she knew them.

"Dark Lady" He called to Bellorum, she could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at her, "She comes."

Tag: Darth Kronos Mitth_Fisto DarthIshyZ Lady Belligerent

A sincere and much appreciated tip of the hat to Mr. Lord Inspid, Sinrebirth .