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

IC: Darth Octavius

Octavius felt how the dark presences vanished, he wasn´t sure what exactly happened but he guessed Kwea had saved them all. He felt how his master regained control of his body and Octavius stood up to release him. "I´m sorry master. You where possessed and I had to stop you from attacking Kwea." Octavius muttered so only Haretisch could hear him. The presence around them had vanished as well and now this place was nothing more than a ruin below the surface.

"He is gone." Haretisch said and Octavius assumed that their duty here was done. "I´m still alive." He muttered more to himself than to anyone else. He looked around to get a look at the others. Haretisch seemed surprisingly calm for a man who had been possessed by a dark spirit only moments ago, Kwea was confidant as ever as she replied to their masters scolding. Lady Arach still laid on the ground and Octavius felt the dark energies surrounding her. He asked himself if she had absorbed the powers of the being they had come to face. His master congratulated them but Octavius wasn´t in the mood to cheer about their victory. It had been his first mission as a Sith and it had been different from what he experienced as a Jedi. When they walked back to the surface his thoughts ran through his mind. Before today he had always assumed the Sith where different from the Jedi in terms of their ideology but what he had learned today had changed that. For a moment he asked himself if the Sith where truly interested in creating a better galaxy. He had seen the darkness today, the darkness of the spirits they faced but also the darkness in his companions. For a moment he shivered when he thought back of what he had learned about them. Octavius tried to put the thought aside. They had banished an evil spirit from this world, they had faced an ancient Sith and where still alive. His mood bettered as closer they came to the surface and when he felt the sun on his skin Octavius managed to smile.

They entered the shuttle and Octavius sat down next to Kwea who began to meditate. Octavius took his drawing map out of his bag and tried to remember as much as he could of the ornaments on the coffins. Working on his sketches helped him clear his mind. Soon he was so concentrated he forgot everything around him.


TAG: @Halle Dray, @Moonspun Dragon, @Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Re'van
Fortress of Golg

Re'van and the Sorceress stared at each other. Re'van had tuned away the noise and distractions, even as the ground shook, and strange voices filled the air. In this time of now, there was only she and the Sorceress. And as they connected, more of the Sorceress amulets began to fail and drop away. Re'van touched the mind of the Sorceress, as the woman began to remember. From the before time. So many years ago. For Re'van knew the Sorceresses true name. Two souls, staring at each others as if in different parts of a fragmented mirror, each reflecting a jagged past that they shared. Oh yes, Re'van knew the woman. And now, the Sorceress would remember.

Kalara gasped with a moment of terror -

Re'van ignored Kalara, as Re'van spoke a word. A simple word. A name. There was an explosion, close by, and Re'van used the Force to steady herself as she drew in the coil of energy from the other woman. The image of the Sorceress began to flicker, and then fade away as she drew in the rest of the coil. For the Sorceress was not the only being who had studied the old ways of the ancient Sith. Re'van eyes glowed softly as she drew in the essance completely, until there was only Re'van standing there, the fragments of the many amulets strewn about, burnt and depleated. And she understood. Re'van scanned the area where the Sorceress had been standing, to see if there was anything else here she needed to deal with. Her search was interrupted as the ground was rocked by an explosion, and an unknown being was sent flying upwards to land close to Re'van, along with a strange mask. Re'van gave a dark grin. "Still with me, Kalara?" she asked softly. The Force was pulsating with an tremendous uptake of Darkside energies. Re'van could hear now the screaming of lost souls, and she peered down into the hole that had now been rendered through the castle. There was a large crash, and there was a mass of flesh.. moving? at the bottom of the hole. It looked like a sludge of floating eyes and mouths and hands and feet. Truly disgusting. The darkside waned its warning, that whatever this thing was, it was deadly, and it mean to destroy everything in its path. They had overstayed their welcome. Re'van looked at the disgusting mass. If THAT was Graush, he was a rather ugly looking thing for an ex Sith. Obviously, time had not been good to him. If that was supposed to be ultimate power, then he could keep it.

Where was the Lorekeeper?, Re'van wondered. She began to seek him out. There was a lift, Re'van noted, and both Ike and Bellorum appeared to be in it. But there there was a loud snapping sound, and the lift began to drop. Re'van reached out with the Force, to grab to cable at the top of the lift to arrest its further fall. She was sure that Bellorum and Ike could take care of the rest. There was this new person here as. Had he been drawn here by something else? Re'van did not know, no care at the moment. Instead, she worked a few controls on her bracelet. The Ferel was close. Very close. Eldritch and ancint alchemy horrors was not something she had signed up for.


TAG: Sinrebirth, Lady Belligerent, Mikaboshi

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Battle of Coruscant, Senate Building

A hint of a smirk played on his tattooed countenance, even as the Yevetha finally revealed what Darth Insipid already knew to be true.

The Crimson Bladed Yevetha had not obeyed his orders, as expected. Instead, it had commanded its own soldiers to attack the sith troopers, while it spoke its own declaration on the senate floor.

“I am Darth Darama, Dark Lord of the Sith and Emperor, and I declare that the Senate and Moff delegation are all under my control!”

Control?

Manticore huffed. The Yevetha was far more delusional than he'd anticipated. And as for being Emperor -well, that was altogether laughable, all things considered.

“Praise be the Pantheon! May this sacrifice whet their appetite for this realm!”

Pantheon? Darth Manticore frowned at the turn of phrase. There was something definitely odd about it. The zabrak was familiar enough to know the Yevetha were a death-worshiping culture, but they were largely monotheistic in that respect. The mention of a ‘pantheon’ by this usurper was quite revealing. Could it be referring to the dark 'pantheon' he'd learned about during his time as an apprentice to former Sith Emperor Darth Vassago?

At present, the fearsome zabrak couldn't lend the question much thought.

Manticore didn’t need his fiery eyes to see the many protective shields and weapons drawn as a result of the Yevetah’s announcement. Already, the level of panic within the chamber was spiking to great heights.

The darkside churned vehemently, in massive and voluminous waves of darkness. There was much at play, much more than was apparent.

All around, Sith and Yevethan forces fought one against the other, neither gaining a foothold of the senate chamber, much less proper control of it. Even panicked as they were, the Moffs and Ambassadors could very well attempt to escape and some might even succeed, but perhaps Lady Hesper might prove an inexorable deterrent to their unsanctioned exodus.

Commanding all focus of attention, the Yevetah turned upon the zabrak with more loud declarations.

“Bow to your Emperor! Bow or die!” at the last, the Crimson Bladed Yevetah slashed down at the Sith High Lord. Manticore recognized the attack as an obvious feint, since it was not delivered with a killing intent. With swift reflexive speed, Manticore used Grandmaster K’Kruhk’s staff to block the strike. The zabrak could feel the energy being expended from the staff as it blocked the Yevethan’s attack, and so, he replaced the slowly evanescing lightside energy with dark.

Both the zabrak and the Yevethan were warriors. Manticore would have been surprised if there was no follow-up attack by his opponent. As he leaned back out of range, and still using the Grandmaster’s staff, he parried the powerfully delivered backhand with the wooden weapon and simultaneously caused a telekinetic burst at the point of impact.

The osseous blade employed by his enemy came as no surprise. Manticore expected the move, because he would have done the same, were he a Yevetah, hence the burst of force. His intent was to break the bony protrusion.

Behind the Yevetha, two Imperial Guards attacked. The tall usurper effectively fended them off with his crimson blade. It was a well executed defense, except for the fact that there was no option to ‘bow’ as stated. Just ‘die’. This suited the zabrak much better as a matter of fact.

The two Imperial Guards were Ganner Krieg and Azyln Rae. Manticore recognized them from the war briefings. They had missed their intended target, the usurper Yevetah, and so, they simply charged at Manticore.

Clumsy. Sloppy. Unfocused.

In a single motion, the zabrak sith master crouched low as he made a sweeping motion with the Grandmaster's staff, sending a wave of force at the feet of the charging pair. Almost simultaneously, he made a lunging motion with his other arm, ignited weapon in hand, which sent a second cone-shaped wave of force before him. From his position, he could both defend or attack seamlessly.

In the meantime, the Yevetah had lept up and reached the Senate pod section. He gestured and sent one down at the trio engaged below.

Clever. Very clever indeed.

Manticore did not bother dealing with it and simply leaped up past it. He skimmed the pod as he rose and sliced surgically at its underbelly with his ignited weapon as he went. Let the Imperial Guards deal with the Yevethan’s little toy and its two halves. Were he to engage it, that act alone would put him at a great disadvantage.

[ ‘All Senators! All Moffs! Please retreat in an orderly fashion outside the building. The enemy is focused within, so we can consolidate outside.’]

Manticore cursed in his mind. The speaker was right. He could not order the sith troopers to engage the fleeing senators, since they were presently busy in mortal combat with the traitorous Yevetah. Once again, he thought of Sith Lord Hesper. He could sense her presence somewhere near.

But the Crimson Bladed Yevetah was far closer than she.

“You feel it….” he rasped out.

“Death. It has come to Coruscant. It culls. But tell me, will you be among the chosen? Or can you offer it a worthy sacrifice…or fail in the attempt?”

There was a definitive crest in the darkside just then. A momentary bright flash coupled with a powerful ripple in the darkside of the force spiked Manticore’s senses. But what did it mean?

So far, he had sensed no deaths in relation to his fellow sith, so he continued to assume that Digrant, Darth Titus and Darth Anark were facing their own challenges. In the back of his conscious mind, he could even feel the Emepror’s rage being unleashed. That in itself was galvanizing.

And it seems to be energizing Anark as well.

Outside the Senate Chamber, two prominent points of light had emerged, but were quickly being surrounded by roiling clouds of darkness. Far above, he could sense a great deal of struggle, conflict, darkness and death.

“Let’s finish this, usurper.”

Manticore directed his words at the Yevetah.

“To be both Emperor and Darama, you must face and kill Darth Insipid yourself. A pity you won’t get to do either. There will be no glory for you or yours today.”

The darkside was cresting all through the planet, quite likely the entire system and beyond. It was power of titanic proportions. He could feel it. Manticore had never felt a sensation like this before. He did not question the darkside, he simply embraced it.

The Crimson Yevetah and the two Imperial Guards. Here and now.

This was a challenge he recognized and accepted without question. Each one of them, every sith would be put to the task this day. Coruscant would be won by dint of might. If they, for some inexplicable reason, were destined to fail, it wouldn't be from lack of trying.

Just then, he heard the Emperor’s familiar voice over the com-link he had been given.

“It is now or never. Our true foe has arrived.”

Darth Manticore roared at that pronouncement and sent a gout of flame at his Crimson Bladed opponent.


Tag: @corinthia, @Darth Master Titus, @Snokers, @dragonsith13, @Sinrebirth ( Why does this feel like KotOR, ToR, Infamous or even Dragon Age. Which path to choose? Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. )

 

IC: Darth Anark

Anarchy on Coruscant


He could feel her presence and so he stopped dead in his tracks a few feet from a large door sporting a keypad on it's wall that flashed red indicating that it had been locked. And sure enough, her voice, stronger than the one he'd known before today, traveled down the corridor in a very commanding and decisive tone which caused Darth Anark to grin.

She had brought with her a squad of well-trained soldiers all hurrying down the corridor with rifles outstretched and trained on the young Sith. They caught up a few seconds later and Tarkana raised her own weapon in his direction. "It's over!"

He remained in place with his back to them and thought...

And so it is. It is over. No lightsaber, no energy, and to top it all off, one less tooth in my head. I'm going to die with a charred face and an uneven smile.

He turned to face his pursuers, slowly spinning on the ankle he was certain had been broken when he free fell from the towering staircase.

Tarkana's bottom lip was trembling. He noticed her hair, it usually fell evenly passed her shoulders and it had done up until the last time he had saw her in the Empress's chambers but now it was wrapped up in a bun atop her head. She was a natural beauty. She motioned a hand behind her, still holding Anark's gaze and her detail of troops lowered their weapons. All except for the man directly behind her, the one she had argued over the comlink earlier.

He spoke up...

"The Empress's orders were clear. Kill on sight, captain Sydon, Kill on...."

"No" She interrupted him. "Come quietly, Kade. Her Majesty's offer of a pardon in exchange for your cooperation still stands."

Anark noticed a single tear begin to bead in the corner of her eye. She knew where his loyalties lay. She knew there was only one way this could end. He knew as well, he would do his best and he could probably take down the traitor and possibly a few of her men but it was inevitable that at least one of the troops would hit their mark.

He was clearing his throat to declare his last words when he was hit by a sudden and tremendous force. Insipid, he could feel his master everywhere, all around him. Inside of him. It was a feeling of rejuvenation, of boundless dark energy. If there were a reflective surface in his vicinity he would have witnessed his own eyes turn blacker than black. He began to levitate before everyone's eyes as the darkness began to pulsate quicker and quicker through him until it felt as though it was going to rip him apart from the inside.

His head flew back and his arms reached out involuntarily as a brilliant flourish of force lightning cascaded between and through the bodies in front of him, each trooper went into a seizure as the lightning coursed through every part of them, searing them inside and out, after a few seconds a last powerful blue blast came from him and he began to laugh uncontrollably, a maniacal laughter that echoed though the unfurnished hallway and at the same time was drowned out in his head by the voice in his head joining in.

The lightning ceased along with the cackling and his boots touched the floor again. When he regained his composure he looked around to realize that among the sea of dead soldiers, Tarkana stood with her hands glued to her sides and her eyes as wide as saucers. He had spared her... somehow...

Smoke rose from the dead. Among them he spotted the hilt of his own lightsaber attached to a utility belt on one of the slave woman's fallen minions. He reached out with the Force and beckoned it into his hand. He felt it in his hands for a moment and then tucked it into his tattered robes. Tarkana, frozen in place, dropped her weapon and it landed with a metallic thud on the floor. Darth Anark moved forward but instead of snapping her neck he grasped her upper arm, swung her around provoking a shriek and began to haul her back down the corridor, the limp in his ankle nowhere to be seen or felt and marched her to the foot of the staircase.

***​

​

It was windy just below the senate buildings peak. He had escorted his former slave up the stairs, paying no mind to her attempts to escape his grasp and her screams of defiance until they reached the entrance to the roof after what seemed like a lifetime of climbing step after step. He was surprised there was still access to the roof, he thought a full lock-down would have been initiated by now.

"Let me go!"

And he did, he ushered her to the edge of the balcony and let go. She took a few steps back and turned to face him. Anark drew the lightsaber from it's place and traced a thumb lightly over it's ignition button preparing himself for an execution.

Tarkana's voice cracked as she spoke but she sounded calm.

"You will not hear an apology for me fulfilling my duty, my sworn duty. But nor will I deny that every word I have said about following you to the furthest reaches of the galaxy if you are willing to leave this cult behind. To free you of the pain and torment you have fallen victim to. You have confided in me, I have learned about your past and I know what has motivated your acts."

She let out an exhale that lingered for a moment.

"My Empress knows, she knows I faltered in my mission. I let my personal feelings get in the way and even after I brought you here and handed you over, not knowing if she would have your head before you were even given the chance to make a case for yourself, somewhere inside I was still ready to jump on the nearest star ship and head in a direction, any direction."

She watched as the Sith's eyes began to soften, even his body language changed. His wild strands of hair contorted in the howling wind.

"I have seen a conflict within you on many occasions. I have witnessed a flicker of light in the dark... there must be reason you kept me ali..."

Her shoulders were dislodged from their sockets with the force of Anark's push against her chest as she tumbled over the railing and became airborne. She didn't scream and if she had the sound would have been carried away on the wind. The brute strength of his attack had added extra momentum to her fall. She saw the balcony become smaller and smaller, saw the whole senate building reveal its colossal form as she neared the ground below.

Tarkana Sydon's world went dark in an instant as her skull cracked upon impact.

Anark put his lightsaber away with a face of stone and just as he was about to turn around and descend the steps he'd just climbed to rejoin his comrades, a mesmerizing white light stemmed up from the Jedi Temple a short distance away.

What in the blazes?....

As he watched this strange phenomenon for a moment he realized this was born of the Force. He didn't know exactly what it was but it was something that required sensitivity and power to witness.

The wind still raged, causing him to sway where he stood as he continued to gaze at the temple when Insipid's distinctive voice rose up and competed with the feral weather.

'It is now or never... our true foe has arrived.'

TAG: greyjedi125 Sinrebirth corinthia Darth Master Titus dragonsith13​

 

IC- Darth Arach
Catacombs

When Arach opened her eyes, there was a brief moment of numbness as her brain readjusted to the physical world. It was blissful. As soon as that registered, awareness butted in.

She became aware of the apprentices, Haretisch, and the fact that the room felt different than before. It felt... Fresher. Cleaner.

And she became aware of the awkward, sprawled position her limbs and body were in when she had fallen. Slowly and carefully, she shifted her head to ease the dull ache in her neck...

... And quickly bit back a scream. Her body felt like it was on fire as nerve endings woke up.

Feeling, eager to not be forgotten, made itself known. Especially, pain. A quiet whimper escaped her clenched teeth as she moved her arms and legs.

Slowly, and gingerly, she flipped herself onto her back with difficulty. Having accomplished this massive feat, Arach closed her eyes and started to mentally assess how bad she was injured.

She had barely begun when what felt like a door had been violently kicked open in her mind. Now, in addition to her physical pain, she was having the universe exploding in her head.

Gasping, Arach's eyes snapped open and she bolted upright. She stared blankly at the wall in front of her, her eyes opened as wide as they could. Her Force awareness had expanded.

She became increasingly panicked as she felt the presence of the Sith in the Temple. In her mind's eye, they shone like a beacon, slightly dim, due to the distance. In comparison, her companions' presence were scortching bright. There close proximity gave her a migraine. She even felt the life in the dirt and rock beneath her. It was all overwhelming.

In response to her rising panic and the overwhelming feedback, Arach felt something running up and down her arms and hands. She looked down and watched, shocked, as sparks of Force Lighting did a hypnotic, pulsing dance. It took all of her focus to make it stop.

"It will take time."

Arac looked up at Haretisch and felt her mind start to calm. Oh. Right. She remembered snippits of their conversation in the mindscape.

She nodded to let the Dark Lord know that she understood, then looked back at her balled fists. She clenched her teeth as well.

Now, she'll have to work so much harder not to show weakness. Especially now that a few fellow Sith had seen her weakness. It was a few too many.

Arach remained on the floor for a few more minutes, gathering her strength for her next major feat. Standing up.

Eventually accomplishing this with some difficulty, the young assassin stumbled a few steps backward and swayed. Once she regained her balance, she followed the others out of the catacombs, using all of her focus to walk steadily and to keep from unintentionally zapping her comrades.

Upon reaching the transport ship, however, her concentration slipped then broke as a strong sense of urgency flooded her.

She knew who was calling her to return. And she knew something was wrong.

Arach, drained, stumbled into the ship and fell into her seat. She braced herself for more trouble. Pretending to meditate, Arach closed her eyes and reached out through that bond to send her acknowledgment and that she was on her way. That done, the assassin broke contact, but kept her eyes closed for a bit longer.

She would be thrilled when this day was over.

TAGS: Darth_wanderguard, Halle Dray, Anedon, Sinrebirth

 

IC: Borek Tek (Tek)
Hoth Temple - One Dozie of a pickle


Well now. THAT is certainly something you dont see every day. His heads-up display lit up like class-A star going nova, as the Darkside began to humm with something he had never felt before in his life. Suddenly one .. UGLY eye appeared on a far wall, and peered in closely on Tek. Even though Tek brought up his weapon, he was pretty sure it would not work on whatever in the nine rings of Tardis was this thing. Suddenly, something ripped through his mental shields as heard a whisper that ripped through his senses like a jagged, broken razor. "You reckon with forces alien to you, little one. FLEE!!," At the word FLEE, he was blasted back by a force that flung him backwards. He ended up landing not to far from where Zeek laid. He growled. He had enough of this place.

He looked over at his companion. "Get up. You can stop pretending now." Zeek hummed to life, as he took his ususal spot. Tek had learned long ago, that every fool force user that came along thought they could simply deactivate a droid by throwing a 'switch'. So he gave the one. After all, would good would a top of the line, high tech security droid be, if everyone could just simply cut him off when they felt like it. Would be rather useless, come to think of it. Tek turned his head, as heard them yelling in the other room, as the ground began to rumble and shake. He also noted the eyes disappeared. Time to go.

Tek ran back into the other room, and spotted saw that Darth fartooshort and the gal Syren and the other lady had already left the room. His eyes opened even wider when he saw...

Esmerelda?!?!

The girl lived. Even if her legs were still a mess. And the other Sith she had fallen for, literally, was still there as well. But now, the temple was coming down, and Tek spotted the large opening in the ceiling.

"Ah, what the kriff!" Zek muttered, thought he was glad to see the girl alive. Looked like he was still on the clock. With a force induced leap, he landed close to where Esmerelda was. He then gestured And Force pushed her up and out to where ... well, anything had to be better than here. He ignited his backpack once more, and followed up quickly behind her, blasting past at such a speed, that when he caught up to her, he grabbed her. He was making sure that no one else would be tempted to use them for target practice as they exited the structure, Zeeks shields on full to protect them all. He gently sat the girl down on the ground, stood, eyes narrowed slightly as he landed. His pistol in his hand, but held downwards.


TAG: Darth_wanderguard, Lady Belligerent, Darth Kronos, QueenSabe7, Sinrebirth


OOC: Hope you dont mind me moving your character Sinrebirth...

 

OOC:: I would like to apologize to @Darth Kronos, and others for any toes that I may have stepped on.


IC: Borek Tek (Tek)
Hoth Temple


Tek dropped the girl to the ground. and took a look around. He saw trouble. Too many people here, were not too happy for his actions save the girl. Tek decided that a ride back on their ship, would most likely not be the most pleasant of things.

Tek blasted his pack, and with a speed he usually kept in reserve for escaping exploding ships and the like, he jetted away from the group, heading ... any karking where but where they were.

Once he landed....he would disappear into the frozen wastelands. He had his own way back. He would wait. It would be a warmer reception on Hoth than it would be on a ship full of angry Sith.



THE END

 

Darth Hades
Desert, Moraband

"If I shall call you Master.... I must first pledge a life debt to you, you have spared my life, whether you think it's a weak gesture it matters not...you have spared my life and now pledge myself to your teachings. I know of the Sith and how their caste works, I shall not fail you, i wish to follow you.What is thy bidding... Master."​

​

Hades was just about to accept the Wookie's lightsaber when he felt a stir in the Force. It was subtle, but he had felt it one the less. Growing up on Haruun Kal, he had to get used to the way the Jungle breathed and pulsed in the Force, and it had become one of the greatest assets he had developed.

He turned slightly as the Tuk'ata leapt in their midst and one was already attacking the Wookie.

Hades, though these beasts were allies to the Sith, was not prepared to allow for mercy. they were trained to aid the Sith and guard the tombs, not attack them. Why they did so, was unknown to Hadesat the moment, but he was sure the other Sith were involved, and he would learn who had done this, and he would plan an exquisite revenge upon them.

He reactivated his lightsabers and closed his eyes. The subtle cues in the Force here were much easier to hear and feel than in the jungle, and so Hades focused on his senses and the Force and allowed the dance to begin. He twisted as a Tuk'ata leapt at him, slicing it in half. He opened his eyes and the look on his face was that of true intent.

He uses the Force to snap the neck of another Tuk'ata as it ran at him and kicked another before leaping up. His feet it the wall and he pushed off from the rock wall and landed in a crouch behind anotherTuk'ata that he then fired Sith Lightning upon.

He was calm and sure in each movement, but even the most careful of movements could end in disaster if one was not capable completely of these feats.

Hades begin to move his lightsabers in quick powerful arcs and started to move and spin. He had no idea how many of the beasts were there, but he made a dazzling display of skill until one of theTuk'ata rose from where it had been playing dead and clawed Hades' thigh to shreds.

Hades made no noise but silently fell to his knee. He then gathered the Force to himself and with a loud shout, both physically and mentally, he commanded the Tuk'ata to stop.

STOP! ​

​

TAG: WookieeRage, Lady Belligerent

 

IC: Darth Kronos

With every swing Kronos made against the tentacles grabbing at him, his wound sent an arc of pain through his body. The pain was like a spark - a spark that would turn into rage. It would only add on top of the seething anger he felt already. Any tentacle that would even end up near him would find itself plopping onto the ground, writhing like a lizard's tail. Kronos had taken the aggressive approach to the entire situation. No one else did. The others had ran off to grab Esmerelda. Well, maybe except for Kralkus. Though, not even Kronos layer much attention to his actions. He wouldn't be surprised if Kralkus had ended up unconscious again. It had been a common thing lately.

His thoughts were temporarily interrupted when the newcomer and Zalen rushed in the room with Esmerelda. If it weren't for the two, he most likely would have continued to slash until he tired out, or until he was killed off. But, it was time for the ritual. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

He took a step back, and shut off his lightsaber, working his hardest to calm himself down. He found it much more challenging this time around. Usually, he had intentionally gotten himself angry, so it would be easier to calm down. It was expected ofca Sith to be able to use his or her anger as a spark, nothing more. You would be expected to get yourself back into a more relaxed state in an instant.

He took several deep breaths, just as Esmerelda was hoisted back into the ritual.

It had begun... again.

But, this time, Tek was not around to save her. He had seemingly disappeared. Most likely, he was killed by either Zalen or what's-her-name.

The ritual continued, sucking the life out of Esmerelda. Quite literally. Her essence itself was extracted, as it was brought into the Eye of Hoth's shield.

Then, the ritual ended. Esmerelda was dead. And the Eye of Hoth now extractable. Kralkus took this opportunity, grabbing it and running away as quickly as his little feet would allow him. The rest of the group followed.

But, now his thoughts were once again focused on Esmerelda. The poor girl. Punished for helping them, and keeping them alive.

She didn't deserve death.

Then, an alarm sounded, as the cave was starting to rupture and collapse. It blared into Kronos' ears, catching him off guard.

There wasn't anything else to do. If he just stood there, he would most definitely be crushed.

He started to where everyone else ran off to.

Then, a voice sounded to him, even through all of the chaos that was happening. Female. "Carry me?"

Startled, Kronos swiftly turned to where he heard the voice. He had expected to see nothing, as if he were just hearing things. But, this was not the case. Instead of seeing nothing but rubble, he saw the girl. Esmerelda. She was still alive. Somehow.

He stumbled back, almost tripping on his own feet. He stared at her, wide eyed underneath his helmet. He did not know how she was still here. One minute she was dead, the ritual completed, and the next she's fine and alive.

Well, not completely fine. Her legs still were jelly-like. She was laying there, almost completely calm during the chaos. She had just looked at him, saying "Carry me?".

No one had even noticed her. That, or they just ignored her.

He was kind of happy that she was still alive. He felt less guilty knowing this. He could still bring her out alive. This was his chance.

He felt she earned making it out of there.

He grabbed her forearm, yanking her up. Esmerelda's leg situation made it much harder to "carry" her. Because of her lack of bones, he couldn't really pick her up. But he would make do. Using the only method heccoukd come up with, Kronos had grabbed her waist, using the Force to make up for the lack of strength.

"We must be quick."

He ran after the rest of the group, following their footprints as he went. He dodged any piece of rubble or ice that fell near him. It wasn't long before he found a ladder. Looking up, Kronos saw that it was partially damaged. But, that wasn't what interested him. Up above, Kronos saw a beautiful glow. A glow of light he hadn't seen in a while.

Daylight. Wonderful daylight.

Wasting no more time than he a already had, he begun to climb, while carrying Esmerelda.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard Sinrebirth Lady Belligerent QueenSabe7

 

Darth Titus
Coruscant; Senate Steps

All the planning Titus had made was thrown out the window as soon as he thought of it. Mohc became engaged in a full on shootout. Others emerged within sight of Titus, locked in fighting. They were Empress Fel and Antares Draco. This battle was quickly escalating in front of the Senate building, but it would soon be over.

Titus was still camped behind a nearby building, collecting his thoughts as he began to strategize a new plan. He didn't know what had changed, but he was sure one of his fellow Sith had troops engage General Mohc.

The wounds Titus had acquired during his crash landing were still on fire, but the pain was slowly dissipating. Now was the right time to creep up on Mohc, while he was being bombarded by enemy fire. Titus moved in closer.

Twin missiles cut through the air, traveling at such high velocities. A non-force user would certainly have been slain, but with the force comes great abilities. Titus was able to twist his body through the air to narrowly avoid the missiles gunning for him. After landing, the young Sith focused on the source of the fire. It was Mohc, his battle suit sensing Titus' approach.

A rail gun propped on his shoulder immediately sought out Titus, firing hundreds of blasts a second. Another perk of having force abilities, superior quick reflexes. With his crimson blade, Titus deflected half of the rounds of fire emerging from the rail gun. A technique often used by force wielders is to deflect the bolts back to its sender. But with so many blasts raining down on him, perfectly redirecting the shots back at Mohc would have been a wasted effort. Titus' only hope would be to defend.

Fortunately for Titus, Mohc was also busy with other enemies, forcing the General to avert attention from the Sith every now and again. Unfortunately for Titus however, the rail gun kept firing.

How much ammunition does this man have!

Nearby Titus was a chunk of metal that used to be a part of the door to a ship. He hailed it in with the force, and used to as a makeshift shield.

Sensing this was his best shot at getting close to the target, Titus rushed General Venn Mohc. The impact between the metal which shielded Titus and the steel armor of Mohc's suit was a brutal one. Bone crushing even. Mohc felt his ribs snap after the blow while Titus reopened some wounds that Emperor Insipid had helped heal.

As each man rose from the Coruscant ground, both spit and coughed out a mouthful of blood. One clear advantage Mohc held was his weaponry. Being equipped with blaster rifles, grenades, and rail guns, he was able to keep his distance. So instead of engaging Titus is close quarter combat, the General retreated and begun raining down more shots on the Sith.

However, Titus anticipated this and quickly made his move. He leapt into the air, but over shot his target who was surprisingly nimble in his massive suit. Once seeing his opponent in the air, Mohc intelligently used his jet pack to thrust forward to avoid any imminent aerial attack. Titus thudded to the ground, letting his wounds get the better of his abilities.

Mohc was readying for another volley of fire towards Titus when his blaster jammed. Sensing it was the right moment, Titus rushed Mohc, lightsaber roaring to life, held straight, the Sith looking to impale his opponent as if they were in a jousting match. But once again, Venn Mohc proved to be very nimble, sidestepping the Sith and grappling him.

The jet pack on Mohc's back fired up and took them to the skies. Being face to helmet in the sky was not fun at all for Titus. Since Mohc's arm were tasked with holding Titus, the General used his dark trooper helmet to continuously headbutt Titus. After a good five strikes to the head, blood began streaming down the Sith forehead. He was losing grip on his lightsaber, which at this point was his best escape from this deadlock.

His arms were pinned to his sides, but once igniting his lightsaber, it pierced through the General's leg armor. Titus heard a yelp from Mohc who mistakenly let loose his grip on Titus. The Sith took advantage and used his free 'saber arm to cut the jet pack.

In theory it sounded good, but in actuality it might not have been the best move. The jet careened and bucked wildly in the air, taking it's two occupants on a rather spectacularly bumpy ride. The two flew in and out of buildings and if it wasn't for Mohc's thick armor shielding him, Titus would be dead from these violent impacts.

Now they were heading straight for the Senate building, building up speed and momentum that would for sure splat the two down to nothing but particles. Titus used whatever space he had to kick Mohc off of him. Titus was now in a free fall headed straight for the Senate steps. Losing the additional weight, Mohc was able to get his jet pack under control. At least as under control as a wild jetpack can get.

Luckily for Titus he was close enough to the Senate building and quickly thought of a plan. Igniting his lightsaber, he thrust the blade as deep into the Senate building wall as he could hoping to rapidly slow his descent. Mohc on the other hand slowed his self down enough that his impact with the building didn't kill him.

They both made it to the ground alive in one piece, but definitely shaken. But once again, Titus had the force on his side. Slowly but surely Titus made his way to his feet. He stalked over to Venn Mohc who was now trying to crawl his way to safety from the angry and blood thirsty Sith.

Titus thought back to Insipid's words; "... he has advanced with an anti-Sith agenda which has just been picked up. He needs to be killed, and very, very publicly."

Well around the Senate building amassed scores of troops from either side of the fray onlooking the current battle between Sith Lord Titus Impera and General Venn Mohc. His helmet was cracked in half which revealed a tattered, bloody face. "noo..stop.."

Still crawling, Mohc began to speed up as he heard Titus draw near. Igniting his crimson red saber, Titus stabbed down and impaled Mohc to the floor, pinning him where he lie. Where his helmet had crack in half, Titus grabbed and yanked his head back. "You fought bravely. But I hate foes who hide behind a suit of armor."

Sensing Mohc slowly dying, Titus extracted his lightsaber from Mohc's midsection and cleaved off his head. Letting his rage take over, he tossed Mohc's head in the air and threw his lightsaber at it, slicing that in two.

Calling his lightsaber back to him, Titus clipped it to his belt and surveyed the scene. Mohc's remaining men stared at Titus in horror. Titus smirked.

How was that for public.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Snokers @dragonsith13 @corinthia

 

OOC: Octavius' level has increased to 10. Kwea Acantha's level has increased to 10. Arach's level has increased to 26. Update character sheets accordingly and send to GMs for approval.


GM UPDATE


IC: Darth Kralkus -- Hoth, Collapsing Ruins of Sadow'een

Daylight! Daylight! Kralkus mentally repeated the word to himself with every heave, his tiny arms burning with fatigue as he labored up the long ladder. He glanced down for a solitary moment, and saw Zalen, Syren, and Kronos beneath him, with Esmerelda in tow. Esmerelda.

Esmerelda!? He spared an instant of wonder for why Kronos would go to the trouble of hauling such a handsome but extremely dead woman up a fifty meter ladder, and the potential reasons were off-putting even for a centuries old Sith master. 'It's always the quiet ones,' he reflected. And then he felt a stir in the force, and it was unmistakable - Esmerelda was alive. Relieved with regards to Kronos' proclivities, he was nonetheless quite the opposite when he realized how awkward the journey back to Moraband would be. Not to mention confused. He was probably that last thing more than anything else, but there wasn't time to idly consider.

Grasping at the last step atop the ladder, and with one last heave, Kralkus burst upward through the open threshold, and landed in the snow, blinded momentarily by the bright sun's reflection off of the white landscape. They were still amidst the ruins, skeletal as they were. Columns and arches and partial walls surrounded, making up a massive, looming maze of dilapidation, though the sky above was still visible.

And it was all collapsing.

The blaring alarms could still be heard through the open escape shaft, but quickly faded and were overtaken by the rumble of the titanic structure collapsing all around. Kralkus broke into a desperate sprint, dodging a toppling column before quickly leaping through the opening of an archway tipping over towards him, striking the ground with a thud and cracking into pieces as it did.

He leapt again with all his might, and though exhausted, the tiny master landed atop a column with the help of the force. He was blessedly able to see just over the vestiges that formed the maze, and in the distance he saw the ship.

"This way!" He yelled to his companions, and leapt forward from column to column, side to side along the path, until his strength finally failed him and he fell back to the ground, now running at the head of the pack. Almost there.

There was a sharp turn, and finally the opening of the maze. The ship stood less than one hundred meters away at the beginning of the trench they had first trekked along to the mouth of the cave, back in the direction they had come and now perpendicular to their approach. The ramp was open. They had only to step inside and it would be over.

The ruins quaked and crumbled behind them, and in only moments would collapse entirely to envelop the ship and everything else nearby. As he entered the clearing, running for dear life, Kralkus stumbled. Age and fatigue were a mighty tandem, and he fell with a grunt to the snowy ground.

The Eye of Hoth loosed from his robes and landed in front of him on the ground, glinting in the snow just out of his reach. He stretched to grasp, but he was spent, both in the force and in his body. The priceless artifact lay ripe for the taking, its steward distracted and vulnerable to attack.

TAG: (1) QueenSabe7, (2) Darth Kronos, (3) Lady Belligerent, (4) Sinrebirth


--------------------------


IC: Darth Haretisch -- Moraband, Valley of the Dark Lords/Great Temple

For the second time in as many days, the Valley of the Dark Lords was a shrinking and ever more distant specter in the periphery of Darth Haretisch's vision. He was still in spite of the wind on the half-open deck of the departing transport, his apprentices and comrade Arach nearby, engaged variously in meditation and simple rest after the exhausting ordeal they had experienced in the catacombs. To say it had been a bizarre happening was an understatement, and now it already felt like a dream in retrospect.

Within minutes they were back at the temple, touching down in the East hangar - the most populated of the three in the temple by a wide margin - and the Night Herald disembarked the transport standing tall, head covered by his hood, cloak billowing behind and boot heels clicking against the floor. The hangar fell not to stillness but perhaps to a subtle hush as he strode forward with retinue in tow - and in short order he was approached and saluted by a sharply dressed officer.

"Get your hand down you stupid fool," he chided, "I know my place well enough that it need not be validated by the likes of you. If you have business then speak."

"My lord, all is not well," the officer spoke in semi-hushed tones. "There is a-" he hesitated for a moment, "a delinquent, your lordship, loose in the temple, causing mayhem of all sorts. Darth Nihl is headed directly this way."

Haretisch blinked in bemusement, but knew within mere moments what must have taken place. 'Emperor Insipid, always more brilliant than practical, always more clever than wise,' he thought to himself. No doubt Nihl had been thawed from his carbonite imprisonment to sate some need of Insipid's for knowledge, and no doubt had he somehow gotten free one way or another. Of whether that escape flew in the face of Insipid's plans or was simply a thread in the tapestry, either was a possibility.

"Arach, Octavius, Kwea," he beckoned without looking back, "I have other business. When Nihl arrives, see that he is unmade, and be at ease until I call on you again," he gave the order, and leisurely made to leave the hangar, confident that the trio would prove more than equal to the task - worrying minimally for the worst-case scenario that the Nagai commandeer a ship and escape. There were innumerable pretenders to the throne, innumerable nuisances to an empire so large, to a seat of power so vast. In the grand scheme, the prospect of Nihl running loose about the galaxy was no less irrelevant to Haretisch than it was intolerable to Insipid.

No sooner had Haretisch left than Nihl had arrived in the hangar like death personified, cutting down two officers in a whirlwind, fatally deflecting blaster fire into two more, and finally felling another pair with a burst of force lightning. Whatever Imperial military remained had either fled or taken cover, and the trio of Darth Arach, Darth Octavius, and Kwea Acantha stood alone against the former Dark Lord.

TAG: Moonspun Dragon, Anedon, Halle Dray

 

Lorekeeper and Cruor - a combined post from Sinrebirth and Mikaboshi
Valley of Golg, Citadel

The simultaneous attacks of Darth Cruor and The Lorekeeper ravaged the zombie enhanced Gen'Dai. Lightning collided with flash frozen flesh and caused the undead body to explode outward, along with a shower of frozen gore the archivist fell from the gaping hole. His cloths mostly torn from his body, what was left only bloody rags, his skin appeared as if covered in acid burns.

The High Lord grabbed at The Lorekeeper with the Force and deposited him upon the same ledge which he earlier stood. Before the zombie Gen'Dai devoured him whole, the librarian's necklace met him there soon after, sent by the Sith Lord. Immediately he placed the chain around his neck again, a sigh escaped his mouth, before he could find how to assist Lord Cruor a glint of metal caught his eye.

There it was, at the far end of the ledge. The mask.

Afraid to move, yet compelled to do so, The Lorekeeper crawled over and grabbed the relic. Pieces of frozen flesh still clung to the inside.

"Get the mask to Darth Cruor!" The familiar voice urged.

Of course, that thing wanted it back first. It wasn't Dathka Graush, he has ceased to channel himself and was now in the thrall of Typhojem, the Left Handed God. 'You promised me one', came a voice, speaking through Lorekeeper's mouth. 'And I shall have it.'

No, he wasn't speaking through Lorekeeper. He was speaking through what was infecting him. Cuts adorned his body, scratches and bites and all manner of minor wound, but all of them were the medium for the zombie plague that infected and spread and consumed and ended.

A surge of power filled Lorekeeper, a sharpness to his eyes as he saw through the sight of the dead, a red haze permeating. His wounds no longer bothered him, and the strength that came into him was that of a much younger man.

For Cruor's part, the throng of flesh and bone and bits and parts reared up from one of the gaps in the debris, a flowing tide of skin and blood which resolved into a point, and the point went through his back and out his front in an instant, before acquiring a shape and it turned out Cruor had an arm driven straight through him, as a body shaped itself. The faceless hulk laughed, a buffeting of wind tearing at Bellorum, Ike, Re'van, and making ash and dust of what remained of the Sorceress, as it lifted Cruor, perhaps alive, into the view of the others as the voice became internal to the Loremaster.

Give unto me and I shall have you last. Give me your soul of your own free will and you shall know more power, more speed, more strength.

The voice in his necklace hissed for his attention. 'He's stalling, distracting you with grandstanding. As soon as the infection - the Sickness - transforms your flesh, he will be able to take you whenever he wishes. He might save you, but not forever. Grasp the mask, and that Darkstaff. Drain them both, draw Cruor into his mask and the Darkstaff into you, merge the power of both.'

The voice in the necklace seemed to smirk. 'The Left Handed Lord seeks to make you undead... But I am the Lord of the Undead - I am Darth Andeddu. Take unto that power, accept my will, and I shall weave your body into an equilibrium between living and dead, and preserve your soul...'

'Or you can die here, a failure and a fool, to think you could trifle with Death himself.'

The Sickness snarled. Fools offer nothing but foolishness. It is only through me that you will know true power, and true purpose....

The Lorekeeper had long ago become bound to the voice within the gem, and now he knew the truth of his identity. After all these long years, Darth Andeddu had revealed himself.

It would not have mattered if he hadn't, the librarian almost always listened to the voice. It was as much a part of him now as his own thoughts.

The old archivist grinned wickedly as he gripped the death mask tightly, then lunged for the nearby staff of Darth Cruor. Immediately he could feel the surge of power flow into his body, the accompanying pain was almost overwhelming, but it was an ecstasy that the Lorekeeper had sought his entire life. He let the energy saturate his body until every cell and fiber resonated with dark power.

The staff he kept tightly gripped, unwilling to let it go as he savored every last bit of the power within.

The mask however he held aloft and presented it to the besieged High Lord, he then channeled his newfound powers and practiced mastery of tutaminis through it and attempted to do as Darth Andeddu commanded, he sought to steal the soul of Darth Cruor from the hunger of a Dark God.

If successful the essence of the Sith Lord would be trapped within the mask, forever.

In a snap and flash, Cruor's body exploded, causing Dathka to flinch away with an arm and most of his head missing, and then surge into the ground of the Citadel and rush back into the depths, it's many, many mouths wailing.

The Loremaster would feel Darth Andeddu smile. 'Well done, my disciple. I shall reveal unto you my last secrets, and together - together - we shall rule the Galaxy!'

The dark surge of infection, of necrotic flesh, was scattered across his body, but it was all beneath the surface, equally imparted by life and as such Loremaster only drew the benefits of immortality, and none of the negatives.

In a flash of knowledge, it would be apparent that this was how Darth Andeddu had managed to keep his rotting corpse intact enough for a resurrection seven millennia after he left it, and as such his body, sealed again on Prakith, would be receptive to his soul anew.

Equally however, the Sickness spoke unto him. It matters not, for you will soon enough, surely enough, die and all will be done and you shall be nothing.

The Darkstaff crumbled away with a mental sigh, it's power drawn into the Loremaster with a twist of Andeddu's will, but there was also a notable connection between the mask and the Loremaster.

Bound to him was Andeddu, Cruor, and the voice of the Sickness, all buoying him up and pressing upon him.

And the Sickness would tell him that Dathka wasn't done.

On the ledge of the citadel was him, Re'van, Ike and Darth Bellorum, all energized in their own manners, and all worn from the mission, but all more powerful.

There would be but a moment while they could address each other.

"Look who has returned. I wonder where he's been?" Darth Bellorum asked Ike, just loud enough to draw The Lorekeeper's attention in the sudden and shocking silence that followed the chaos. The archivist, though more powerful than ever, looked a ruin. His clothing was shredded and saturated with gore, skin covered in cuts and bites, his thin white hair hung over his face, and he trembled with exhaustion.

He looked to the trio of Darth Bellorum, Re'van, and Ike. "You don't want to know" He said with a shudder, he would consider himself lucky if he ever forgot what happened this day.

Tag: HunterPrime Lady Belligerent Sinrebirth

 

IC: Darth Ravenous

Moraband

Ravenous watched his master become marred by a very large Tuk'ata and was very much surprised as Hades' command was received by the Sith beasts. His decision to invoke a life debt to him was well placed. He soon realized they weren't quite heeding his command but the terrain around them.
The legs of the Wookiee gave out under him and he was surged into a corridor. Fur full of sand, a woman appeared in the opening where they once stood.
"What the hell are you two doing down there?" The Woman inquired.

Ravenous retorted with a trilling growl, wiping sand from his fur, "What the hell are you doing up there?"

The Wookiee looked to his Master to see his response, thinking he may know her and to see if his response was out of line..
Tag: E. L.Knight, Lady Belligerent

 

GM APPROVED

UPDATED CHARACTER SHEET

Name: Darth Arach
Born: Isa Blayke (pronounced Eye- sa Blake)
Age: 20
Sex: female
Species: Human
Occupation: Sith
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 135 pounds
Physical Description: Long straight black hair, piercing gold eyes, pale flawless skin save for a fresh, deep cut on the underside of her right forearm. She wears an intricately designed pendant with a blood- red stone.

Clothing: Usually wears a black 3/4 length sleeved tunic with black pants and knee- high boots.
Weapons: Her weapons of choice are a standard lightsaber with a blood orange blade, a wickedly shaped vibroblade, the cutting edge is serrated and in the shape of flames, and a dagger made of unidentified bone curved like a serpent's fang with carvings in the hilt. It comes to aHealingthe butt which could be used to stab should the blade brake. In its sheath, there are a few small gems.
Description of Abilities: Having just gained a boost in power and abilities, Arach has occasional random sparks of electricity erupt. Especially when emotionally compromised. If this happens, then she will release a deadly pulse of the Force, subconsciously, in addition to the uncontrolled lightning. Usually, she can control it enough to not electrocute those around her.
Bio: Isa had a happy childhood. Her parents were part of a group of humans colonizing a planet known as Rikku. It has a lot of grassy knolls and is perfect for growing crops, located in the Outer Rim. This group was, also, part of a social experiment. It was on Rikku that she was born.

For ten years, the colony grew. Ten years was how long it took for their paradise to become hell.

It started with the crops. Very gradually, the crops started to become poisoned. They managed to contain it and even appeared to stop it for awhile. However, it came back not only in the crops, but the livestock, as well. No one knew where this poison came from or how to stop it.

During this stage, they discovered that the poison made the animals more aggressive and caused a type of madness. Even the animals who only ever ate grass, began to turn on each other and eat their flesh.

The next stage, it infected the colonists themselves. The violence recorded with the animals became magnified with the Infected. There were only a few that weren't effected. Isa and her parents were among them.

The infection disguised itself, at first, as different common ailments. It, then, became more deadly accompanied with an insationable hunger.

Help was barely called for before it was too late.

As it was, many of the colonists were killed.

Isa had been with a friend when the Infected became too many to contain. Worried for her parents, she slipped away in the confusion.

She, eventually, heard screams that sounded like her mother coming from the direction of the market. They faded as she followed them.

When she arrived she saw the market had been overrun. Some of the Infected were busy in small groups of three or four. Closest to her, she saw two groups of four each. She recognized the clothing of the two victims as belonging to her parents.

Upon realizing this, the child couldn't help but stare in shock, horror, and tremendous grief as her parents became dismembered as she felt something within her start to crack.

It didn't shatter until the Infected noticed her a few seconds after her arrival. As they came toward her, an inferno ignited. Never before had she felt such anger and hatred.

With tears streaming, Isa let out an incredible scream as the built up inferno released in a powerful pulse. It shredded through the ranks of not only the Infected surrounding her parents, but through the ones surrounding the other victims as well.

Safe and exhausted, the child collapsed to her knees and had just enough strength to crawl to her dead mother's side.

This is where the response team found her some time later.

On the ship with the other survivors, was an older woman by the name of Sadie Brown. Sadie had been a neighbor and a surrogate aunt to the child and took her in.

Sadie died when Isa was sixteen. Her heart had merely given out.

Now, she became burdened with Sadie's death as well as her parents'. The latter was not clear to her due to the trauma she had sustained.

After Sadie's death, Isa took to the streets and became a scavenger and thief.

It wasn't long before she learned that she was different than the others around her. She was far more successful at stealing items of value from shopkeepers and customers alike. And she was very skilled at finding the right haul when she scavenged.

One day in the market, she stole a customer's pouch with their credits in it.

She didn't realize this was not one of her normal victims until the Sith Master caught up to her.

Eventually, impressed enough with her skill, the Sith brought her to Korriban to the Sith Academy. There she trained until she became apprenticed to the late Emperor himself.


Class: Assassin- Watcher
Level: 26
Skills:

Tier I
Force Push/Pull
Force Jump (+1)
Force Sprint (+1)
Tutaminis
Force Stealth (+1)
Force Barrier (+1)
Makashi
Soresu
Niman
Jar'Kai (+1)

Tier II
Force Lightning
Force Scream
Mind Shard
Dark Side Healing
Withering Affliction(+1)
Conceal Essence (+1)

Tier III
Force Illusions

Tier IV
Probe Mind

 

IC- Darth Arach
Moraband, Sith Temple

As soon as she stepped out of the ship, Arach knew something wasn't right. As if to confirm her suspicions, an officer approached Haretisch and began speaking with him in hushed tones. Arach managed to catch a name: Darth Nihl.

"Arach, Octavius, Kwea, I have other business. When Nihl arrives, see that he is unmade, and be at ease until I call on you again," Haretisch ordered, without looking at them.

"Yes, my lord.," Arach responded as her started to walk away. Feeling an unknown presence coming closer, the assassin wasted no time.

She turned to the apprentices. "This Darth Nihl is almost here. I have a plan for an ambush. You two stay here. Keep him occupied. When the time is right, I'll attack him from behind."

With that, Arach used her Conceal Essence and slipped behind a nearby ship.

TAG: Halle Dray, Anedon

 

IC: Syren
Hoth Temple, fleeing


Hurling herself up and over the final rung of the ladder, Syren stumbled a few paces in the snow and came to a halt. They had made it outside. Bending over, she placed her hands on her knees and clenched her eyes shut against the sudden brightness. Her throat and lungs burned raw with each intake of the brisk air as she attempted to get her breathing under control. The frigid winds that tore right through to the bone were welcomed for a very brief moment. It numbed her aching limbs and distracted her overwhelmed mind.

Paying no attention to the others, she straightened and swiftly wrapped herself in the warm jacket Zalen had passed off while scanning the area. They had come above ground in the midst of large, crumbling structural remains that appeared to have fallen into ruin long ago.

Where the hell are we now?

Yet again Syren bit back the frustration and confusion that were seemingly waiting for the right time to overtake her. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest.

As if to mock her, the ground quaked more intensely than ever causing rubble to crack and tumble to the ground at her feet. What was still standing of the ancient ruins would most assuredly not be for much longer. She could hear the cave-in beginning below as everything swayed with each growing tremor. Feeling woozy, she turned to see Kralkus take off and willed herself to follow once more.

Throwing her body around as best she could to avoid being crushed, Syren leapt, crouched, spun and dove, barely staying on her feet as the ground seemed to lose its solidity the further she moved through the labyrinth. She knew she was on her own and kept to it, narrowly missing heavy stones and the massive chunks of various materials that rained down around her.

Hurdling over a crumbling wall, the moment she landed the ground opened up directly in front of her and swallowed everything near into unknown depths. The surface beneath her feet then broke away and she had no other choice but to push off immediately with a hasty Force Jump. Clearing the chasm, she hit the other side with an uncontrolled landing. As her momentum suddenly ceased, Syren’s head snapped forward and smacked the stone paving beneath her. Dizzying agony burned through her as she staggered back to a standing position in time to hear Kralkus shouting into the roar of the collapse.

“This way!” He was close. Moving in the direction of his voice, her hectic dance with death continued until she burst out into an open pathway. Her speed had propelled her into the far wall at a sharp turn and as she got her bearings she found herself facing a clearing, and inside that clearing…

“A kriffing ship!” she yelled aloud in hysterical relief.

Wiping away the blood that had begun to trickle steadily down her face from her wound, Syren’s heart felt like it was trying to break free of her chest as it hammered away. Continuing to push beyond what she felt she was still able to handle, she threw herself out into the open space that held her key to escape. Her gaze locked onto the open ramp as she moved towards it with fierce determination, it was just a few more steps…

Then without warning, she stopped short. Her head whirled to the side and somehow knowing exactly where to look, she saw it: The Eye of Hoth. The Sith’s precious artifact was lying unguarded in the snow. Not hesitating for a single second, she moved towards it as if guided by unseen forces. Dropping to her knees and scooping it up with both hands, she barely noticed Lord Kralkus lying in front of her, reaching for the relic himself.

Everything wiped clean from her brain, her breathing calmed, and her pain ceased as Syren simply stared in open wonder. Even as certain death had begun to tighten its grip around them all, she only had eyes for what she held in front of her.

“What ARE y…” Suddenly her voice was ripped from her throat and the world as she knew it rushed out and away in all directions, vanishing on a black horizon that plunged her into an oppressive nothing; A void.

No… no not this. NO!

In an instant she was back, the endless prison of darkness where time and substance did not exist. She could not feel her physical form as before, but now she still had her wits about her and was able to think with the utmost clarity. This made it worse, much worse. Her mind crashed in on itself as she released everything that had been held back. If she were able, Syren would’ve have screamed.

As quickly as the internal chaos began, it abruptly stilled when she sensed a presence. There was…. something…. in here with her. How could that be? Tentatively, she reached out and what her mind touched made her immediately shrink back. Whatever it was… it scared her. All of a sudden a voice filled the dark space, simultaneously familiar and unknown, both seductive and repulsive. It whispered like a heartbeat, beginning slow and steady.

Syren………. Syren………. Syren……….

With each pulse of her own name, she felt the presence surrounding her as a beast would circle its prey. It began pressing in at the edges of her mind and she threw up mental barriers, trying to push it away. They were torn down with ease. Fear took over.

Syren... Syren… Syren…

The beats became quicker and louder as if matching her rising level of panic. As it crept in closer still, she could feel the malicious intent there as dark tendrils coiled tightly around and through her thoughts.

SYREN.SYREN.SYREN.

It was a horrible struggle to keep a hold of herself. Please stop, she pleaded. PLEASE! The presence clenched its grip on her in response and she was inexplicably conscious of physical pain. It felt like she was burning and the torment only grew in strength. She couldn’t hold on, she was so tired, she just wanted it to be over. She had to let go... it was time to let go.

XIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAA

With one last drawn out beat, the voice became primal and in a menacing growl she heard the name she had long ago cast aside. At that, the last of her was seized and everything went silent. She felt… nothing. Maybe this was best.

NOT YET!

The voice came back with a deafening shout that wrenched her out of the void and the world rushed back in from every angle. She was on her knees in the snow, The Eye of Hoth still clutched in her hands, the world still falling away around her. Only a single moment had passed here while she had been… elsewhere.

That pushed her over the edge. Succumbing to her mental and physical exhaustion, Syren slipped into unconsciousness and fell limply to the snow beneath her.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Lady Belligerent Darth Kronos Sinrebirth

 

IC: Re'van
Fortress of Golg

Now that Re'van's attentions were focused around her, her eyes opened wide. The Force energies that swirled
around them were powerful indeed. The darkness screamed in a primordal fury Re'van had rarely seen before.A
hot angry wind, seemed to come from nowhere, blasting her with a darkness within the force, as the body of the
sorceress dissapeared. Through the whirling debris, Re'van could see that Bellorum had made her jump from the
lift, but Ike seemed to have a bit of trouble with the act. Around them, what was left of the supposed
fortress was rapidly falling apart. The lift managed to stay up just long enough for Bellorium to yank Ike
free before it plummed back down in a writhing mass of nastyness. "Disgusting." Re'van muttered, both in sight
and smell. But the undead seemed unstopable, and were getting closer with every moment. But still, she
continued to scan around them, looking for - Suddenly, an explosion caught her attention as now it began to
rain, with pieces of still annimated flesh around the top floor, and part of the Citadel that had been
standing, now fell atop the lift structure. Heads gnashed her their teeth, arms grasped at the ground, and
corpses flexed, determined to carry on. Re'van had a new deffinition for disgusting, and it seemed to be
growing with every second. Re'van began to let the Force flow through her, using the darkside to do a Force
healing upon herself. After being around so much undead flesh, she paused, to kick a hand that was crawling
towards her away, she would NOT be taken down by some unknown disease. From where she stood at the moment, Bellowium and Ike were between the horde and herself.

Suddenly, the darkness flared to life once more, nearly blinding in the Force sight. Now what has happened?
Re'van thought to herself, as she moved closer towards the large opening where the mass of flesh had riginally
appeared. There, or a ledge, was the Lorekeeper. He looked much worse for wear, than ever, covered in undead
flesh, and his clothing wripped and burned off most of his body. He almost was unrecognizable, in the rags of
what was left of his clothing. But there was something different about him as well. "Look who has returned. I
wonder where he's been?" Darth Bellorum voice echoed in the silence that surrounded them all in the aftermath.
The Lorekeeper looked up at the rest of them. "You don't want to know" He said with a shudder. It was a
momentary pause, Re'van felt. She looked, not seeing anyone else. She guessed that the unknown Sith did not
make it. There was so much going on, that most likely would take quite some time to truly understand all that
had happened so far, but right now she considered them all changed from the events which had happned to each
of them. Re'van walked closwer towards Bellorum and Ike, as she kept her eyes on Lorekeeper. The horde of
undead seemed quite determined. "Come join us, Lorekeeper. I dont thing there will be much of this Fortress
standing for much longer. The darkside neergies here, threaten to reclaim what belongs to them." she stated to
them all. "I believe this place has lost it charm." she stated, as she gave a dark chuckle.


TAG: Sinrebirth, Lady Belligerent, Mikaboshi

 

IC: Darth Haretisch -- Moraband, Great Temple, Eastern Hangar

The Night Herald glared silently in greeting the Emperor, whose sudden appearance was unexpected but not at all unsurprising. He straightened his posture, stretching his shoulder blades and seeming to blossom physically for a moment, towering over Insipid only briefly before settling back into a comfortable slouch.

"Something has happened to Cruor, and Draconis killed his watcher. So that's not stellar. How goes your high lord?"

The question came with a knowing smirk, indicating that the Emperor had sensed Arach's monumental increase in power upon their approach, perhaps even sooner, and had come to the same immediate conclusion that she was an obvious addition to the Dark Tribunal. Further, he seemed to enjoy flaunting his talent for piecing together with little effort whatever puzzles he set himself to. This was a small and relatively inconsequential example, but surely no less an attempt at the illusion of omnipotence the Emperor so seemed to love as a way of establishing himself as a cut above. Haretisch had grown used to the almost daily exercise of ignoring this annoying habit, a tendency he suspected only made the game more fun for Insipid.

"She is overwhelmed, but how much is owed to a surge in power and how much to the events of the last two days is difficult to know," he admitted. "I suspect we will see in only a moment how well she will make use. And I suspect all the same that we will pretend Nihl's release was part of the master plan to test her, no?"

"Is she powerful enough yet?" Insipid asked in response, looking thoughtful.

"Powerful enough to be a High Lord, Emperor," Haretisch replied curtly and somewhat stiff, his gaze unwavering. It wasn't an attempt to intimidate - such was below the Night Herald and would have been ineffective in any case - but a subtle message that he had no interest in indulging oratory fishing expeditions.

But then the Emperor pulled a face and Haretisch could see that there was... Something else. This wasn't Insipid's usual devious way. He narrowed his eyes and nodded, as if to acknowledge a rare moment of honesty between the two, devoid of the pair's usual and ongoing duel of wits. Insipid held out a data pad, silently, and the worst was confirmed. Coruscant was going poorly. The disloyal elements hadn't been disposed of at Relus as had been planned, and that fact appeared to have thrown a kink in a few plans. But not as much as the arrival of Darth Yammka. The Pantheon - and the Night Herald's face twisted in disgust at the mere mention of such - was wasting no opportunity.

"They are pursuing the key," Insipid added.

Haretisch looked up, suppressing something between a groan and a sigh. "It must be passed, away from their eyes and from the eyes of any through whom they might see. It cannot go to myself, nor to Arach. We have already been touched by him, in the catacombs, and I fear that he and his might see into us and know we have taken it." He thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Bellorum is too likely a candidate, and too conspicuous altogether." There *was* one other possibility, though a cumbersome one at best.

TAG: Sinrebirth

 

Radian T'lenity
Hyperspace on the Return to Dathomir

Radian stood tall and strong on the bridge of a Star destroyer. Frustration boiled deep below, but he pushed the feeling away. The Jedi had been having a frustrating time repulsing the Siths advance, and many good men and woman have fallen in battle. The Jedi council was now working at half membership, and dozens of Padawans had been promoted early in a grand ceremony in the Jedi Embassy on Bastion some days earlier. The Sith Assault on Coruscant was shocking in its audacity and the Jedi were in a rush, not just to retaliate, but to preserve the order. Many knights and Padawans were sent underground, to secret temples and hidden locations to protect the order if this advance could not be stagnated. While many other were pressed into the military, and ready to fight. Radians speech before the senators had gone well, but how could it go otherwise with the Sith threat literally at their doorsteps? Bastion had been fortified, and an interim government established in conjunction with the Imperial one, until the battle was over. Regardless of the outcome Bastion was still among the most fortified planets in the galaxy, it would take untold millions of ships to conquer it, and leave the attackers in destitution lacking the manpower to continue.

Now on the Councils demand, Radian was on way to Dathomir to bring down its defenses, and then was to redirect to Coruscant to aid in its defense as soon as possible. Dathomir had been under siege since he left, and little progress had been made. The Sith had been trapped in the temple on the surface, and the battle had turned into an all out brawl for each and every hallway. Autha Ni-Mic had performed impressively all things considered, casualties were relatively low, but now was not the time for reserved tactics. The conquest of Dathomir would be an important victory, even if symbolic in nature, it would prove that we could take them where they live.

As hyperspace faded and the planet came into view, Radian placed the finishing touches on his plan, he knew it would be risky, but the risk would be worth it. The reinforcements he had brought were more than enough to secure their claim, and he was going strait for the head of their administration, strait for the Witch known as Joostu Xien.

He and nine others boarded the transport to the surface, and the fight began. He could sense the war on the outside like a muck of chaos, of death and destruction, it was debilitating, but he put himself in a meditative state to push through it. He felt a rush of atmosphere, and braced himself for what he knew to be coming. The vessel rocked and bounced, as he heard a large crash. On his order the Gunship broke through the glass roof of the temple and now lay in a smoking wreck within its upper most chambers.

Radian and his compatriots were drastically rattled, and the ship had been disabled, but they were within striking distance of the Sith leader, and forced the door open ready for a fight.

Tags: Sinrebirth