Star Wars Leá Monde II: The Phantom Pain

IC: Avidan Malreaux
Outside Temple of Kiltia, City South

Finding out he'd already passed his test was rather relieving, but it also seemed slightly superficial. While yes, he was not the nicest man in the galaxy, being full of darkness wasn't precisely how he would describe himself. Apparently the smoke couldn't tell that Avidan was only doing this for the love of his son. Surely that wouldn't be considered "dark".

Tamulis reaction to the lice was somewhat amusing. It showed her as weaker than he was, and that pleased him far more than it should have. Smiling slightly, "Not as high in favor as you thought? Such a shame." Rubbing his chin, Avidan thought he knew why he should fear the Cardinal. Somehow I have doubts they'll let the losers live. Dammit Sinwara, why didn't you go to the authorities like I told you?

"How do we stop the Cardinal? And when do I meet Aldous?" It was obvious that the flunky wasn't really going to be of that much use. To really find out what was going on, and manipulate it, Avidan knew it would take talking to the leader of the Mullenkamp. Surely he could outsmart the people in charge of this backwater world that his father had roped them into this mess. And if anything happens to Gavril... His father would be dead, but there were ways of making him pay beyond that. Cloning for instance.

TAG: WINGED

 

IC: Floryn Korodoro
Leaving VKP Headquarters

Everything stank of chair as they made their exit, Voren'kaa blasting a path through the vermin, LeSait screming and scratching, Korodoro dizzily holding onto LeSait as they made their way to the open air. It might otherwise be comic.

TAG: GM

 

IC: Glyndon Nordic
Brandywine Brewery, City West

It was only one glass of wine, but the Brandywine Brewery was known for having strong wine. Glyndon didn't really take that in to consideration when he drank. Now he was intoxicated, slurring his words and bumping in to things. His behavior even made DeOrland and Eyre pause in their bout of dunk and struggle in the barrel.

"Good stuff, right?" said Eyre, grinning defiantly, her hair and face dripping with wine. "Nothing like Old Valendian vintage."

"Oh Yeaaaah!" Glyndon said exuberantly.

"It'll give you one hell of a hangover though," said DeOrland, and slammed Eyre's head into the side of the barrel, knocking her unconscious once again.

Glyndon paid no mind to the little slam dunk contest. He was too busy with pounding on his own barrel. In his mind he was playing with the famous Max Rebo Band. He was having the time of his life.

"Mr Nordic," said the VKP Investigator, stepping past the mass of gizka and taking Glyndon by the arm, "we need to go. I'll secure the traitor here- she can wait till we get a chance to deal with her. But something's happened at HQ, so that's where we have to be. And maybe we can get you a glass of water en route."

Glyndon put on a sad face. He gave a bow to the pretend audience and started to leave with DeOrland when suddenly he felt an itch along his legs and back. He wiggled furiously trying hard to reach the itch in his back. If the situation was different, it would have been a hilarious moment indeed.

Shaking his legs, wiggling his butt, his arms flapping back and forth. This time the wine was not at fault. Glyndon couldn't help it. The itch was driving him crazy.

"Can youooo Scwatch me back for me puleese." He said to DeOrland still slurring his words with drunkenness.

TAG Winged Jedi

OOC: Sorry for the delay, been sick and still am. Just wanted to get a post in before I fall way behind.

 

OOC: No worries TEE, take your time. I hope you feel better soon.

---

PCs: Floryn Korodoro
NPCs: Captain Voren'kaa, Grand Steward LeSait

[i]Approaching Grand Cathedral[/i]

The air was thick with smoke and any number of unpleasant smells. Gizka brushed against their legs as they walked. Where there were no gizka, there were lice, swarming over the cobblestones. Where there were no lice, there was blood, spilling down from the Flow, drying in the sun.

People were screaming and demanding answers. A loose battalion of VKP Officers marshaled the streets, encouraging people to stay in their homes, brandishing their blasters to add a persuasive emphasis to their instructions.

The Great Cathedral stood tall above the chaos. At dawn there had been a crowd of expectant citizens outside the entrance, and that crowd was still present, though their numbers had thinned and the mood had noticeably changed. They were gathered in a circle now, murmuring to each other and crying and gasping and scratching at themselves. LeSait pushed his way through, leading Korodoro and Voren'kaa.

At the centre of the circle lay the mangled body of a man in ornate dress robes. LeSait kneeled down beside the corpse, and looked straight upwards. Directly above them all, at the very top of one of the spires, a stained-glass window had been smashed open.

"He came from up there," said LeSait. It was more statement than question, but the nearby officers answered in the affirmative anyway.

[b]Tag: BobaMatt[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Glyndon Nordic
NPCs: Kadessa DeOrland

[i]Leaving Brandywine Brewery, City West[/i]

It had taken DeOrland five seconds of scratching Glyndon's back to discover that lice were the problem. And they weren't just on Glyndon- they were everywhere. It was time to leave.

After securing Captain Eyre to one of the barrels using a set of stun cuffs, they departed the brewery.

"We'll come back for her later," said DeOrland. "But I don't have space on my ride for all three of us."

She hopped onto a heavily modified swoop bike, helping the drunken Glyndon navigate his way into the sidecar.

"I'd buckle up if I was you," advised DeOrland. "Try not to puke over the seat please."

A gizka hopped onto Glyndon's lap, settling itself snugly between his legs.

[b]Tag: JEDI_TEEGIRLOO[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Sinwara Malreaux
NPCs: Inquisitor Heldricht, ???

[i]The Cemetery, Great Cathedral, City Centre[/i]

The airspeeder was on course for a crash landing. Panicked, Sinwara reached out for his brother, and for his son, and for his dead wife, even touching the netherworld of the Force in his desperation.

Leá Monde was an interesting place to try such a thing.

Beneath them appeared a woman, as if conjured from thin air. She was sitting at the foot of a tombstone, and dressed entirely in black. They were headed directly for her. The woman rose to her feet gracefully, and turned her head towards the plummeting speeder. Sinwara would recognise her at once as his late wife, looking younger and more radiant than he had ever remembered her.

Lady Sorina Malreaux lifted her hands to the sky, and the airspeeder slowed to a halt. It followed the movements of her hands, and she guided the vehicle to a rough but safe landing inside a muddied burial plot.

"I owe you my gratitude," said Heldricht to Sinwara. She did not seem to have noticed Lady Sorina (who stood waiting quietly, a few feet away). "I had no idea you were so strong in the Force."

[b]Tag: Sinrebirth[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Avidan Malreaux
NPCs: Captain Tamulis

[i]Outside Temple of Kiltia, City South[/i]

"Aldous is waiting for us inside the national Zoo," replied Tamulis, getting to her feet. "It's not far from here. We can walk."

She continued to scratch, cursing under her breath. Around them, the streets were becoming increasingly chaotic. People were arguing with each other and fighting, or rushing into shelter and smashing in windows to try and escape the gizka and lice.

Avidan would, of course, feel his brother's touch at that very moment. Sinwara was in mortal danger.

[b]Tag: Trimaj[/b]

 

Calen Rohn; Elevator; Lumitar Headquarters

He stepped into the elevator and looked at the panel. "Han Solo and the Last . . ." He shook his head. 2What kind of education do you get from your jedi Masters if you are allowed to watch such rubbish? Anakin in love is . . . " he stopped talking and realized where they had to go. "So, I assume there is a reason why this building has been unaffected by the plagues. I farther assume, that this implies strongly this firm is possibly consiouly or unconsciously in league with this Kult who is our prime suspect, so far. For lack of any others. therefore I assume we might need to go where all the trouble came from so far." He pushed the button for the deepest sublevel and sighed. "I would think they have some sort of entrance of exit towards whatever place is producing these troubles. Of course we might also wander into a trap." He looked at his gun. "I hope you know how to use that lightsword of yours. I am a terrible shot." He said and smiled a bit embarassed. "Anyway you should go first, probably."

They arrived and he looked at the boy. "And by the way, Anakin in love is very authentic." He gestured the ushing movement again. "I mean, despite Devaonians playing all parts."

And he raised his gun before the doors opened. Actually he had never shot anybody. He had never killed anybody. But somehow he felt he might probably not care enough about people to leave them alive if they meant trouble. His boy was in danger, his soul as an artist was reawakening and a riddle had to be solved.

Calen smiled. "I should have done this earlier."

He nodded to Marco and aimed for whatever awaited them.

Tag: Winged

 

PCs: Calen Rohn
NPCs: Marco Riot, ???

Basement Three, Lumitar Industries, City North

The lift descended. The doors opened.

Before them was the dark and dank entrance to some sort of sewage system. The walls were lit by green torches, and water ran in thin trenches beside the ground. The path was blocked by a giant, slime-covered circular door.

"There's someone here," said Marco, not yet leaving the lift. He held his saber hilt in his hand, but had not yet activated it. "There's someone watching us, right here."

Apparently, Marco could not see that someone. But Calen could. He could see her with absolute clarity.

His late wife was standing in front of the giant door. She was looking straight at him. She was dressed in a white gown, and her feet were bare. Her belly was large and round, and she gently laid her hands upon it.

"I can feel him kicking," she said with a smile. "Did you hear me, Calen? I can feel our son."

Tag: TheGoodImperial

 

IC: Glyndon Nordic
Leaving Brandywine Brewery, City West

Lice!

The cause of the extreme itching was lice. Knowing that alone was making Glyndon itch. What was with this place. Glyndon thought as he continued to scratch the parts of his body that he was able to reach. Meanwhile, DeOrland was putting stun cuffs on Eyre, while placing her back in a barrel.

"We'll come back for her later," said DeOrland. "But I don't have space on my ride for all three of us."

Glyndon nodded while twitching his nose. He understood a bit more clearly as he was helped in to a modified swoop bike with a side car attached. It was way too small to add another person. He knew Eyre would be ok. The gizkas were there to protect her.

"I'd buckle up if I was you," advised DeOrland. "Try not to puke over the seat please."

Well puking was something he did not want to do, even though he felt a bit nauseous.

He put on his seat belt before the gizka jumped on his lap. For some reason he felt better with the creature. The itching was not as bad. Maybe lice didn't like gizka's whatever the reason Glyndon would prefer the the little creature over lice any day.

As they left, his head started to pound as if someone was hammering it. He also envisioned the chaos throughout the city. He heard cries of pain and despair. He also reminded himself not drink anymore.

He hoped Brendon was fairing better than he was and completely safe from harms way.

He petted the gizka, while taking in the soft cool breeze upon his face as they rode.

TAG Winged Jedi

 

IC: Floryn Korodoro
Approaching Grand Cathedral

The river, now a massive reeking wound, was scabbing over.

As soon as the crowd outside saw the uniformed men they began to crush in on them, demanding answers, but the VKP officers encouraged people to return to their homes.

Remarkably, there was still a crowd outside the Grand Cathedral. Floryn began to wonder if the area was clear, began to entertain the thought that for some religious reason...and yet, as he got closer, the pestilence was still there. The crowd was surrounding a man in ornate robes...a man whose blood mingled with the river's on the street. Lice sucked at it.

"That's not...?" Floryn began. He could not finish. Instead he turned to scratch. It couldn't be the Cardinal...

TAG: Winged

 

IC: Avidan Malreaux
Outside Temple of Kiltia, City South

Motioning for Tamulis to lead the way, Avidan turned and walked right beside her, using the Force to shove things out of his way as he walked. There were going to be even more dead Gizka before his day was done. Stepping on them was quite simply something he refused to do, and going around was unthinkable. Me. Move out of the way for reptilian rodents. As if. Limp little bodies marked their path, as Tamulis continued scratching.

Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, "Can you not use the Force to stop them? Or is that beneath you?" Almost without his being aware of it Avidan's left eyebrow quirked up. Surely someone as powerful as her could have dealt with it. Unless there was some reason not to that he wasn't aware of.

Between one step and the next everything changed. Sinwara! He was in danger, and were Avidan a good brother he would run off, tearing through whatever was necessary to save Sinwara's life. But Avidan was not a very good brother, nor was he a good man by many definitions. His initial reaction was to go and save Gavril's co-father, but were Sinwara a true Malreaux he would find a way to get out of it. And if he is not then it simplifies my life drastically. This took all of two steps for him to make that decision, and so he continued on to meet Aldous. The leader of the Muellenkamp was the key to this whole mess, and Avidan was going to do whatever it took to turn the situation as far to his favor as he could.

TAG: WINGED

 

PCs: Floryn Korodoro
NPCs: Captain Voren'kaa, Grand Steward LeSait, Crimson Blades

Entrance, Grand Cathedral

Korodoro's sentence hung unfinished in the air, letting each member of the crowd arrive at the implication themselves. Surely it wasn't the Cardinal...

LeSait turned over the body- though the face had been heavily bruised by the fall, it was clearly that of a human and not a Muun.

"One of the Cardinal's retainers," said LeSait, and a perverse relief rippled through the crowd. The VKP Commander got to his feet and approached the great iron gates. "We go inside."

The Crimson Blades guarding the door immediately unsheathed their vibroswords. Voren'kaa joined them, his hand on the hilt of his own weapon.

"The VKP has no jurissdiction on holy ground," he hissed. "The Blades are in charge here. No one enters the Cathedral while the candidates undergo their trials."

"Ajora's arse!" bellowed LeSait, half-amused and half-infuriated. "The City's going to pieces! The Blades will stand down and hand over to my men! This is beyond your damned rituals- this man's son is in there for gods' sake!"

All eyes fell upon Korodoro.

"You may go inside if you wish," conceded Voren'kaa. "Accompanied by me. Though know that I will have to report such interference to the Cardinal."

Tag: BobaMatt

---

PCs: Glyndon Nordic
NPCs: Kadessa DeOrland

[i]Approaching Lumitar Industries, City North[/i]

They had not been traveling long when a call came through on DeOrland's comm, informing her of a disturbance at Lumitar Industries in the north of the City. As all available officers were currently attending to the carnage at VKP Headquarters, DeOrland agreed to take a brief detour and investigate the situation.

A short time later they arrived outside the gleaming skyscraper that was the home of Lumitar Industries, near the entrance to the Snowfly Forest. A couple of Lumitar guards were banging furiously on the doors to the building, and a Crimson Blade was also present and helping them to try and gain entry. Not far off were a group of wild-eyed journalists, hurriedly typing notes and reporting into their headsets.

As the swoop bike drew close, the journalists scented fresh blood. They stormed towards the vehicle, instantly recognising Glyndon and launching into a flurry of questions.

"Mr Nordic, what brings you here in the company of a VKP Officer?"

"What are your thoughts on the day's events?"

"Where's your Crimson Blade bodyguard?"

"Are you here to meet with Calen Rohn and the Riot boy?"

"Is that alcohol on your breath Mr Nordic? Celebrating early?"

[b]Tag: JEDI_TEEGIRLOO[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Avidan Malreaux
NPCs: Captain Tamulis

[i]Valendian Royal Zoo, City South[/i]

Tamulis did not answer Avidan's question about the lice, instead shooting him a stony glare and walking on. The creatures certainly seemed to bother her.

The entrance to the Zoo was an experience in itself, full of colour and life. Huge holos of anthropomorphized animals lined the sidewalk as they entered the park, with a grinning rancor welcoming them inside. Along the ground scampered the gizka, followed closely by the lice. The visitors to the zoo were cowering inside ticket booths and souvenir shops.

"Tell me," said Tamulis, as they walked past fountains of blood, "what do you know about Mullenkamp in its original incarnation?"

[b]Tag: Trimaj[/b]
[/blockquote]

 

Calen Rohn; Underground

His jaw dropped, as he saw her. his late wife. "Lara?" It escaped his motuh, but his mind screamed with the usual rant of sceptism. His wife was dead. And it was kicking? His son was already born and one nerve-killing teenager!

"Do you see her?" Calen asked. Obviously someone was down here. Obviously. And that someone was messing with his head. "My wife?" He asked Marco again. then he turned his look back to the . . . illusion? Phantasm? Spectre? No, he thought it would hardly be a spectre. She was pregnant, when hse died she had just given birth. Logic dictated that if she was a spirit, she would take that form. Why take one of a few weeks before her death? And her appearance was obviously a little to convinient to shake his dedication. Obviously he was on the right track. And of course she did not do what he expected her to do usually when he met her . . .

"She is not yelling at me, so I assume it might only be an illusion." An illusion drafted by an ill informed person who had studied the old articles about that dream couple Claen and Lara Rohn. reality was often a matter of perception, he rimded himself again of the wisdom gained earlier this day. He had whispered the words to Marco and now stepped forth extending his arms. His voice was loud and caring. "Darling, what are you doing here in this terrible place?" For a painter he had always considered himself a talented actor. Although his wife had more than once reminded him, his talent had certain limits when it came to explaining long night out with friends. "Is our boy fine? Is he okay? Our little Dorian?"

Calen had decided to call him Dorian. Lerac, like the father of his wife had felt to painful after her death. But that was something nobody knew. Nobody except him. It wasn´t exactly the attempt to proof she was not a ghost. He actually wanted to find out if they could read his mind. With these force-users you never knew. Anakin in Love had taught him so much . . .

Tag: WingedJedi

 

PCs: Calen Rohn
NPCs: Marco Riot, ???

Basement Three, Lumitar Industries, City North

And now Marco decided to ignite his lightsaber.

"Dorian?" said 'Lara', her eyes widening. She looked down to her stomach, and it was suddenly flat. "Is that what you called him? He's dead, Calen. I'm alive. He's dead and I'm alive. Isn't that what you wish had happened?"

"Whatever you're seeing," Marco told Calen, "you're right, it's not real. Don't listen to it."

"The City of Shade will forgive your sins," said the vision, her voice lowering. "You can find redemption here..."

"Calen," said Marco, "you need to shoot it. Shoot whatever you're seeing. Listen to me..."

The young Jedi and the vision of Lara turned towards Calen, and said in unison: "You need to know the truth about this place."

Tag: TheGoodImperial

 

PCs: Sinwara Malreaux
NPCs: Inquisitor Heldricht, ???

The Cemetery, Great Cathedral, City Centre

Sorina simply smiled at the question, and walked straight into Sinwara's embrace. She felt real against him. Her breath was warm; her neck and hair smelled of her perfume; her tears felt wet upon his chest.

"I've missed you," she said. Her voice grew cold. "Only you."

Tag: Sinrebirth

 

IC: Floryn Korodo
Outside the Cathedral

Valance was in danger. And yet.

And yet.

And yet.

"I could not allow myself," he said, "to interfere with the process of providing Valendia with a monarch. I could enter, but I would not wish to pollute the process. Valance would understand, and like me he would place the needs of his second home above his own safety."

His heart sank.

And yet. Let them chew on that.

He silently begged forgiveness of the gods.

TAG: BobaMatt

 

IC: Glyndon Nordic
Approaching Lumitar Industries, City North

Glynydon's head was spinning around. His headache worse than ever. Oh would he give for just a bed to collapse in. The night would not bring him comfort, there was too much happening all around for Glyndon to just rest it all off. If he hadn't gotten drunk he would have been alright. But he had no idea that the wine was as strong as it was. Normally he could handle a few drinks, but this wine was far more potent, wonderful, but potent.

He petted the Gizka, who he named Boo and allowed the wind on his face to sober him up as much as it could. He nodded off a couple of times, but woke up when he heard a call over DeOrlands comm.

There was a disturbance at Lumitar Industries in the north of the City. The VKP Officer decided to investigate the situation. Glyndon smiled groggily knowing somehow that this was what she would probably do.

They arrived a short time later and Glyndon perked up a bit. He looked up at the tall gleaming skyscraper in wonder, then he put his head back down due to the spinning once again. He put his hands over his head praying it would stop.

It appeared that a couple guards and a Crimson Blade were trying to gain access to the building.

That wasn't what Glyndon was looking. His eyes focused on the journalist, who suddenly came rushing toward them like vultures.

"Mr Nordic, what brings you here in the company of a VKP Officer?" was the first question hurled at him as he got out of the side car.

"Oh..um...well" was all he was able to get out when more questions were asked.

He thought it was best not to talk. The less he talked the better. He tried to squirm his way through, though he was still a bit wobbly from the wine.

"What are your thoughts on the day's events?"

He kept pushing through ignoring the question.

"Where's your Crimson Blade bodyguard?"

He had a guilty look on his face as he kept shoving his way through.

"Are you here to meet with Calen Rohn and the Riot boy?"

"Who?" he said forgetting his silent vow.

"Is that alcohol on your breath Mr Nordic? Celebrating early?"

He instantly covered his mouth and kept moving. With the rush of reporters it was easy to hide his unstable walk. They were all so close Glyndon felt he was going to get sick.

He kept his composure.......for a few seconds then all of a sudden.

It was everywhere.

A foul mess on several reporters. He could see the look of shock and disgust on their faces. He realized he was still holding the gizka, but luckily the puke missed the little creature.

He petted Boo and smiled.

He felt so much better now.

TAG Winged Jedi

 

Calen Rohn; Underground Level; City North

Calen raised a brow as Marco ignited his energy blade. But he turned his attention back to the illusion. The ghost, if one wanted to play along. It changed. The stomach grew flat, the thoughts of his brain seemed to manifest immediately.

So you use my thoughts? His second brow joined the first in an excercise of sceptic rising.

"Dorian?" said 'Lara', her eyes widening. "Is that what you called him? He's dead, Calen. I'm alive. He's dead and I'm alive. Isn't that what you wish had happened?"

Calen gave it some thought. He took three seconds and in his idle opinion of himself a fine mind like his could accomplish uqite something in three seconds. The question, the question was irrelevant. The moment the shape had changed because he found it illogical he had realized someone was trying to play him. Using his dead Ex-wife to reach out to him emotionally. Now he knew how. Guilt.

Actually they tried to lure him into the thought he had to choose. When actually he wanted both to life so she could raise their son. Because he had no idea about it. He wanted them both to life. Something that was probably to natural, to little pressurizing. He smiled. Obviously whoever read his thoughts new that now.

"Whatever you're seeing," Marco told Calen, "you're right, it's not real. Don't listen to it." Calen looked at the boy. "Why not? just because it is not real?" Calen asked, but it was more playing along.

"The City of Shade will forgive your sins," said the vision, her voice lowering. "You can find redemption here..." Redemption. That was it, right? the addictive spice religion feeded the masses. Redemption. It would probably destory the aertist in him completely. But he corrected himself. This mind behind the illusion and assumablyy behind everything else was less of an artist than he had thought. "Really?" He asked, looking at the illusion. And he tried not to show any emotion.

"Calen," said Marco, "you need to shoot it. Shoot whatever you're seeing. Listen to me..."

Calen looked back and forth. Back and forth. Shoot it? Was that from the Jedi guide to deal with the unknown? Shoot it?

The young Jedi and the vision of Lara turned towards Calen, and said in unison: "You need to know the truth about this place."

Calen looked back and forth one last time, then he freezed.

Marco had not said he was a Jedi. Only he was here to help. mind reading, how many force users were present? He saw only one. Calen looked at the boy. Then again the illusion could have been coming from outside.

They spoke both. Demanded, urgently. Urgency was the key. They wanted him to do something. Now. And why? Why did people hurry such things?

Because they wanted him to make an uninformed decision.

"it makes little sense to shoot what is not there, Marco. But I agree. With both of you. I need to know what this place is. Why don´t you two explain? Larà? You first? Or do you two have the same explanation anyway? Or do we quit playing games? no, i think both of you prepared too long for the game to quit, right? then let´s hear. What is this place about?" Calen asked and laughed out.

He talked. He did nothing. He did not shoot, especially.

And he guessed that was not what any of both sides had wanted.

"I listen." and he grinned to "Lara" and his grin told the illusion he appracited the nice try, but she had to give him more than that.

Calen Rohn was no fool. He did not jump when people told him to.

Calen realized that was actually something hhe had in common with his beloved son.

Tag: WingedJedi

 

OOC: I have to say, I'm very impressed with the posting so far. Each one of the fathers is unique, and a pleasure to read and GM for. Keep it up!

---

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWpwZf3jebw]"A Kaleidoscope of Mathematics"[/link]
-[i]A Beautiful Mind[/i], James Horner
[blockquote]
"Else, if thou wilt not let my people go, behold, I will send swarms of flies upon thee, and upon thy servants, and upon thy people, and into thy houses: and the houses of the Egyptians shall be full of swarms of flies, and also the ground whereon they are. And I will sever in that day the land of Goshen, in which my people dwell, that no swarms of flies shall be there; to the end thou mayest know that I am the LORD in the midst of the earth."
-Exodus (8:21-22)
[/blockquote]
[hr]

PCs: Sinwara Malreaux
NPCs: Inquisitor Heldricht, ???

[i]The Cemetery, Great Cathedral, City Centre[/i]

"I am here because the City allows me to be," replied Sorina, her hand stroking Sinwara's face. "You don't understand what this place is, my love. How [i]beautiful[/i] it could be, if someone like you were to rule it..."

And as she spoke, a mass of luminous insects poured through the clouds above their heads, encircling the Cathedral spires. Their wings shimmered in the mid-morning light, and a few of them even broke off to descend towards the cemetery, hovering like a halo above Sorina.

The snowflies.

[b]Tag: Sinrebirth[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Floryn Korodoro
NPCs: Captain Voren'kaa, Grand Steward LeSait, VKP Officers

[i]Outside Great Cathedral, City Centre[/i]

Everyone was hushed by Korodoro's decision. The Crimson Blades looked satisfied. Voren'kaa seemed smug, even. LeSait, on the other hand, was apoplectic.

"Pollute the process?" he roared. "To hell with the process!"

He seemed ready to barge in there himself, and the Blades steadied themselves to resist him, when a voice crackled over the comm. LeSait bowed his head, listened to the message repeat itself, and promptly began marching off in the direction of the Cathedral rear.

"If you don't want in, Lord Korodoro, seems like one of the other fathers might. Sinwara Malreaux just crashed an airspeeder into the cemetery."

High above their heads, the clouds seemed to glint and shift in the sunlight. Around the Cathedral spires, the snowflies were gathering.

[b]Tag: BobaMatt[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Glyndon Nordic
NPCs: Kadessa DeOrland, Guard-Captain Stark, journalists

[i]Outside Lumitar Industries, City North[/i]

The journalists recoiled in disgust as Glyndon vomited over them, drenching their precious datapads (as well as their faces and clothes) in his sick.

There was a long, horrible silence.

In the sky above them, a vast swarm of glowing insects were flooding through the clouds. The snowflies were leaving the forest [i]en masse[/i], apparently heading towards the City Centre.

The journalists looked up at the incredible spectacle, and then back down. Back down at the blood, and the gizka, and the lice. And the puke.

"I'm here live," said a voice, "outside Lumitar Industries, where potential king-father Glyndon Nordic has launched an astonishing projectile attack on the press."

It was the only journalist who had avoided the vomit. She was standing filming herself with her camera-comm, and she directed it towards Glyndon.

"What do you have to say, Mr Nordic?"

[b]Tag: JEDI_TEEGIRLOO[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Calen Rohn
NPCs: Marco Riot, ???

[i]Basement Three, Lumitar Industries, City North[/i]

"Let the boy feed his lies to you," said 'Lara'. "You'll call my name again soon enough."

She smiled at Calen, but without any trace of humour. It was a thin-lipped, unpleasant expression. She stepped away, and her skin seemed to fade into the walls. Within seconds, she had vanished.

"You're a smart man," said Marco, de-activating his lightsaber. "You knew there was more going on than you were being told."

The young Jedi took a deep breath, and began to explain.

"The Jedi Council has been watching Leá Monde for a very long time," he said. "This entire City is a dormant nexus of the darkside. A sleeping

 

IC: Glyndon Nordic
Outside Lumitar Industries, City North

Glyndon stood a bit weary, but felt so much better since he got sick. As he petted Boo, he couldn't help but look at the journalists. Their clothes were a mess with his sick. Their faces filled with disgust. His eyes bulged with shock and guilt. He looked up and saw a swarm of snow flies. He would have been more comfortable looking at the snow flies than the journalists. They seemed less harmful than the other.

There was a long horrible silence. From the looks on their faces Glyndon wondered if he should run away. It was an absolute accident that had happened, but would the journalists believe him. He didn't think so. It felt as if there was some contempt coming from them.

Glyndon with guilt in his heart immediately apologized to the journalists. He even grabbed a handkerchief to wipe it off them. Putting Boo down, he walked over to them.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't feeling well. Please forgive me, it really was an accident."

His apology went nowhere. Just then a reporter, one who managed to stay clear of the vomit started to report on the situation.

"I'm here live, outside Lumitar Industries, where potential king-father Glyndon Nordic has launched an astonishing projectile attack on the press."

"No...No that's not true!" he said pleading his case.

She was standing filming herself with her camera-comm, and she directed it towards Glyndon.

"What do you have to say, Mr Nordic?"

"This is all a complete misunderstanding. I......I wasn't feeling well and got sick. I never meant to hurt anyone. I guess you can say they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. he chuckled nervously

"It was a complete accident, nothing more."

He hoped that was the end of the questions. The journalists had to know that it was not on purpose. He could do no more than the apology. If he offered to buy them new suits, then they would say he was trying to bribe them.He knew reporters and how they worked. It was always about how to sensationalize the story and not finding out the true facts.

He had lived with that type of response from the press all his life. Even in his worse moments and this was not one of them. The death of his wife with an experiment of his that gone terribly wrong, was a nightmare for him. It was also a field day for the press. They made him seem like this evil cracked up villain, who purposely killed his sweet Della. His poor son Brendon believed the press and distanced himself from his own father.

That day is a day Glyndon would never forget. The experiment was a machine that would make people youthful once again. His beautiful Della stepped in to the machine. When she stepped out she was shining with a metallic substance. Glyndon tried to reverse it, but it was too late. Della was allergic the metallic substance and died a day later. Glyndon never forgave himself. Nor has Brendon forgiven him.

His son is all he has in the galaxy. He doesn't want to lose him too. Remembering why he was here in the first place. To support his son and protect him from those who want to harm him.

Glyndon no longer cared about what the journalists thought. He knew the truth. If they didn't accept his apology then so be it. He wasn't going to allow them or anybody to keep his son from believing in him.

TAG Winged Jedi

 

Calen Rohn; Basement Three; Lumitar Industries

The "spectre" left with some foreboding. Calen smiled. It had failed. It´s purpose had obviously been to unsettle him, draw him to emotions and manipulate him through that. And the thing had failed. Calen breathed out in confidence and nodded to himself. Maybe he was too complex, maybe his intellect was simply to superior. Or maybe he was just something this power had never encountered. A man. Not wishing to be a good or bad man, but just the man he once was. Unperfect and gifted.

He then turned to Marco as the boy explained the Jedi´s point of view. The boys lies, as "Lara" had called them.

"You're a smart man," said Marco, de-activating his lightsaber. "You knew there was more going on than you were being told."

The young Jedi took a deep breath.

"Obviously." Was all Calen replied on that comment.

Then the Jedi began to explain.

"The Jedi Council has been watching Leá Monde for a very long time," he said. "This entire City is a dormant nexus of the darkside. A sleeping wellspring of evil, controlled by whoever possesses an ancient key known as the Blood-Sin."

Calen raised his brows. "Bloodsin? How dramatic." He smirked.

"The place was only habitable because the Blood-Sin had been lost for many centuries. Now, according to our seers, someone has found it again. Which means that the City is finally being re-awoken...causing illusions like the one you just saw. What did she say to you, incidentally?"

"My late wife. She tried to manipulate me. Very rudimentary psychology. I think . . ." Calen gave it sme thought, then nodded. "I think whoever is behind it was probably among people who had issues with guilt and a hunger for power for too long. People like you. Also Jedi hunger for power, only for what they consider a better reason, right? To help. And they certainly have issues with their guilt." Calen sighed. "I think it did not understand me." He almost regretted this. "Well a monster. And an artifact. And illusions using our very thoughts to be projected." Calen nodded.

"It also told me i needed to find out the truth about this place. And that you would lie to me. Oh and it foreshadowed I would call her name again, soon enough."

Therefore we have to find our owner of the Blood-sin and take the artifact from him, right? Destroy it, make my son King and life happy ever after." Calen laughed. As if things like that happened outside cheesy holodramas.

Then he looked around. The illusion had certainly followed one of it´s purposes. To distract them. It had also revealed more than it probably wanted.

"Why was it haunting me? Why here, where gizka and ants seem to be abscent? Coincidence? Hardly." He nodded. "Help me search the room. And then all other rooms on this level." It tried to slow him down, to stop him, to enchant him. It tried to to stop him. From what?

He was close to something. Calen himself was amazed how excited he grew about it.

Why? To save his son?

No, if he was honest that was not the reason. More a welcome sideeffect. He had been challenged by a hive of darkness. He. How long had his intellect not been that appreciated, by anyone.

Tag: Winged

 

IC: Floryn Kordoro
Outside the Cathedral

As if in response to his prayers, the sky began to shimmer. The sight of it filled Floryn's heart with religious dread. The approving looks of the crowd that already considered Valance the favorite, the nodding from the Blades, LeSait's yelling all faded behind the white tendril that shone in the sun and reached down towards the Lord of Saleucami. Whether it was to anoint him or to squash him, Korodoro did not know. He began to recoil; a finger of the gods pointing at him. The gods of Saleucami, so far from their home? On Valendia? Of course, for they infiltrated into all places.

The tendril crept ever closer, even as the crowds happy tittering at his bravery swelled. It was only then that Floryn realized the full import of the days events. This was not the doings of some mundane terrorist, some Falleen with a grudge. This was Holy Anger. What had been wrought here that so offended? The river of blood, the...plagues.

Plagues.

Blood sin?

Suddenly everything seemed illuminated. The world vibrated. Floryn Korodoro's throat struggled to utter something at the universe as the tendril continued to come for him, pointing at him from the clouds, but nothing came forth but a stunted croak of concern for his doomed son as the tendril rushed over the crowd, and over him, breaking against the Cathedral's Spire like surf upon the coast and exploding into a spiral of snowflies. When the crowds gasps of awe subsided and they looked down again to meet the world at eye level, they found Floryn Korodoro below it, huddled near the ground, shivering.

LeSait said something about Malreaux. The disgusting sinning family Malreaux and the deplorable product of their "marriage." Yes. Surely that was what brought the wrath of the gods. And yet even as Korodoro stood, working his tongue against his palate, he could not scrape the taste of his betrayal from his mouth. "I suppose we must go to help him, then. Where my guard must go I, for my protection, must follow."

TAG: Winged

 

OOC: Fast approaching the "mid-season break" I mentioned in the OP. I think this will probably be the last week before then (depending on how soon we can reach my planned cliffhanger).

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[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4nH4fKTyyM]"The Map Room (Dawn)"[/link]
-[i]Raiders of the Lost Ark[/i], John Williams
[blockquote]
"Then the LORD said unto Moses, Go in unto Pharaoh, and tell him, Thus saith the LORD God of the Hebrews, Let my people go, that they may serve me. For if thou refuse to let them go, and wilt hold them still, Behold, the hand of the LORD is upon thy cattle which is in the field, upon the horses, upon the asses, upon the camels, upon the oxen, and upon the sheep: there shall be a very grievous murrain."
-Exodus (9:1-3)
[/blockquote]
[hr]

PCs: Floryn Korodoro, Sinwara Malreaux
NPCs: Grand Steward LeSait, Captain Voren'kaa, Inquisitor Heldricht

[i]The Cemetery, Great Cathedral, City Centre[/i]

Sinwara's questions went unanswered. The snowflies flitted away, and the sound of voices and footsteps could be heard in the distance. That momentary distraction was enough. In the blink of an eye, Sorina was gone. She had literally vanished, leaving no trace. Even her scent had faded.

Storming through the cemetery gates came the VKP's Commander-in-Chief, Grand Steward LeSait, a portly man whose face was badly wounded and whose body armour was covered in ash and blood. Immediately behind him were Floryn Korodoro, Earl of Saleucami, and the Trandoshan Crimson Blade who had been assigned to the Earl as a bodyguard.

"Lord Malreaux!" bellowed LeSait. "What happened?"

Beside Sinwara lay the crashed airspeeder, still smoking from the damage it had sustained earlier. Inside, Inquisitor Heldricht was groggily returning to her senses...

[b]Tag: Sinrebirth, BobaMatt[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Glyndon Nordic
NPCs: Kadessa DeOrland, Guard-Captain Stark, journalists

[i]Outside Lumitar Industries, City North[/i]

The press seemed to be appeased by Glyndon's apology, and they backed off a little into a half-circle around him, listening while he addressed them.

"That's enough," said DeOrland, stepping into the centre. "Mr Nordic is in the middle of a long day."

"Perhaps," suggested the Crimson Blade who was hovering nearby, "the three of us can discuss things privately inside the building? There are some questions I'd like to ask the both of you."

The Blade had his vibrosword in hand, and he ushered Glyndon and DeOrland towards the building entrance. Around them, the gizka were croaking and flopping to the ground.

At Glyndon's feet, Boo hopped towards him one last time, and died.

[b]Tag: JEDI_TEEGIRLOO[/b]

[hr]

PCs: Calen Rohn
NPCs: Marco Riot

[i]Basement Three, Lumitar Industries, City North[/i]

Marco listened to Calen's assessment of the illusion with interest.

"Therefore," finished the man, "we have to find our owner of the Blood-sin and take the artifact from him, right? Destroy it, make my son King and life happy ever after."

"Something like that," replied Marco with a smile. "Except the Blood-Sin isn't an artifact, as such. It's bound to its owner in the form of a tattoo. You'll know it if...or [i]when[/i]...you see it."

"Why was it haunting me?" asked Calen. "Why here, where gizka and ants seem to be absent? Coincidence? Hardly. Help me search the room. And then all other rooms on this level."

Marco agreed, and together they opened the huge circular door, turning the handle clockwise until the door swung open to reveal the path beyond.

After a few minutes traipsing through the darkened passage they came to a dead end and a small cell. Behind the bars of the cell sat a woman. She had a black hood covering her head so that she could not see, and she was chained to a small bed. She was barely clothed, and had black markings all over her body.

"H-hello?" she said, her voice breaking and barely audible. "Is s-someone out there?"

[b]Tag: TheGoodImperial[/b]

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