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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

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

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Darth_wanderguard, Jan 24, 2016.

  1. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM Update 2 of 4

    ~

    Night fell, and the feast came. The attendees had arrived mostly in pairs or groups of three - Insipid with Ike in tow but looking quite too superior for public shows of devotion, Haretisch with Bellorum on his arm, Lady Hesper with... Aryan Graul? This was curious. Not as curious as the Jedi who was also in attendance, but curious nonetheless. Kwea Acantha and Darth Syren had each swapped their usually utilitarian attire for something altogether more aesthetically inclined. Kronos and Esmerelda were a handsome pair. Even the Lorekeeper appeared cleaner than was typical as he conversed with Darth Ravenous.

    The long table which had stood for generations in the great hall and had found itself toppled during the Battle of Moraband was now righted once again. Insipid sat at the head with Ike, Night Herald to his left and Dawn Herald to his right. Beside each sat the respective new pupils - the precocious Darth Deathy next to Haretisch and clever Jwob Sebb next to Bellorum. Continuing down its length, the High Lords were next, accompanied by their own pupils, and every esteemed Lord, Underlord, and Apprentice of the Sith Empire was accounted for, and every seat filled.

    Then with a trumpet blast, three were beset by slaves clad in fine livery, and ushered from their places up to the head of the room.



    Beyond the unoccupied foot of the table, upon a stage, now stood the heroes of the mountain pass. Darths Anark and Ravenous to the left and right, and Hel between. Winsomely, a Keshiri dressed in a gown and a necklace and bejeweled shoes and every other manner of indulgent finery closed the distance with a collection of medals in tow. Each was fashioned from gleaming gold inscribed in ruby red, and affixed to a matte black chain.

    With simpering charm, she stepped to Darth Anark, and draped the first of the medals over his neck. She regarded him with a gaze of adoration.

    She moved on to Hel, then, and the second of the medals found its way around her neck as well.

    When she came to the Wookiee, he would have to stoop so that she could reach - and when he straightened with the third medal hanging from his neck, it would be seen that there was still another medal to be had.

    With a kind smile, the Keshiri gently placed the trinket in Ravenous' hands and closed his fingers around it. Though his master Hades had fallen, he was a hero as well, and the apprentice who survived him was now entrusted with the decoration he died too soon to receive in person.

    No words needed to be spoken as the triumvirate stood to applaud, shortly followed by the others at the table. It was known now that these three, and Kwea Acantha as well, were no longer apprentices. As the applause continued, Haretisch glanced to Bellorum and a rare smile crossed his normally forlorn features. It turned then to something more quizzical as he looked at the Acolyte, now Underlord, who stood betwixt Anark and Ravenous. Something in her face set him longing for the past.

    He shook it from his mind, and as the clapping slowly died and seats were retaken, the Keshiri would gesture the trio to their own seats for the beginning of the meal.

    "I believe we're ready for the next stage of the festivities, Emperor," he verbally prodded Insipid, who seemed in no rush. At the same time, a veiled structure was wheeled ominously into the room by a gaggle of slaves.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  2. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    GM Update 3 of 4

    IC: Darth Insipid

    The Feast

    The festivities had begun, and drink and food had flowed. It was quite the time. Chit-chat had occurred but to be fair a lot of these Sith had not had a few minutes to grab anything more than a snack in the last week, and there was something about material food which made even a body hopper such as Insipid feel more full. Two seats were glaringly empty - Darth Draconis and Re'van. Only one would ever be filled.

    But he had his prompt.

    With a baleful smile at his Night Herald, he stood, igniting his lightsaber for attention. He deactivated it just as swiftly. 'My colleagues. We have won. Coruscant fell and the Senate burned, a Chancellor dead, the Jedi Grandmaster killed, and an Empress seized. An accord sworn to end anymore unnecessary violence in the galaxy.' The Emperor paid no heed to the Jedi seated at his feast. It was facts. He did not need to exaggerate it. 'The Pantheon attempted to unleash the Left Handed God, Typhojem, and attacked us here to remove our influence. Instead we hurled Abeloth into a sun, routed their armies, undead or otherwise, and seized their flagship as they had ours.'

    He gestured to the hanging shape, beneath a shawl, above the table. 'This is the symbol of that victory and what we will do.'

    A marshalling of the Force was apparent as he reached for the cloak of the hanging trophy. 'But,' the Emperor said, stopping, lowering his hand. 'We are not yet done.'

    'We have but one task left before true victory. You all know of Mortis, of the Ones. The Father, the Son and the Daughter. And of course Abeloth, the Mother. I expect she approached some of you and sought to cast you in those roles. But the Celestials descended on the realm of mortals because Abeloth was originally a Sith. She ascended to become powerful enough to betroth the leader of the Infinite Sith - and the Celestials sealed all the great Sith deities away, dispensing with their material form and ending their rule via their vassals - the Gree, the Killiks, the Silentium, and the Kwa.'

    He paused. 'Mortis is a real place, and the site of the last Seal. The others have been destroyed by the Pantheon, and there is always a risk that some remnant of their kin could make their way to that impossible place and succeed in shattering the Keyhole. The Triumvirate has assembled the power to seal the Keyhole, to ensure that it is stabilised and then locked away, for all eternity. Typhojem has became the true dominant of his prison; he will not grow any stronger but he is strong enough to end us all. This would not be a material fight with Abeloth which we could prevail over. It would be a slaughter. His merest whim would become reality. The Celestials far outstripped Abeloth, and so we would be nothing.'

    Another pause. 'But this time we will not be a Sith Order caught between competing forces and fighting on multiple fronts. We shall lead the entire Sith Order here on Moraband to victory. Split between us three into Hell, Blade and Shadow Squadrons,' he indicated Haretisch, himself and Bellorum in order. 'We will launch from the Chimaera tomorrow and end the threat of Typhojem ever escaping once and for all.'

    Insipid raised his voice, and his hand. 'And then!' He snarled. 'And then, we will show the galaxy our rule. Our victory. Our true power.' As he spoke, the candles flickered, and any electrical items were suddenly full of static, as power buffeted them all, causing the drape-covered item to sway, creaking on the rope. 'Order. Peace. Power.'

    'The Sith Empire.'

    'Forever.'

    He allowed the power to drop. 'But now, I shall demonstrate what will happen to any who oppose our divinity. What is in store for those who seek to destroy, to war, to fight. We are not monsters. We are simply the victors. As the Force wills, so do we.'

    The shawl finally fell down.

    It was Empress Marasiah Fel.

    They had hung her.

    'To peace.'

    He raised his glass.

    TAG: All present on Moraband


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  3. Lady_Belligerent

    Lady_Belligerent Queen of the RPF, SWC, C&P, and Pancakes & Waffles star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    GM Update 4 of 4
    The Celebration

    The Dawn Herald leaned back in her chair with a relaxed smile. She'd been enjoying the maelstrom of emotions flowing through the hall when the Emperor had finally unveiled his 'trophy'. They had witnessed history that would be recorded and still be discussed a millennia from now. She had no way of knowing who would survive what was ahead, but tonight she had overindulged and encouraged the others to do the same.

    She glanced over at Graul and an idea sprang to mind, keeping her voice low she instructed those seated around her. "I propose a little game," she sat aside her wine goblet and took a few shot glasses from the tray sitting near her. Selecting a bottle of Survapierre, which was a surprise to see, she poured several shot glasses full. "Pass these down the table, and if the Chancellor whimpers, you down it." She paused and received a large bowl from a slave, "If the Jedi cringes, you eat one of these," she set the bowl of spicy peppers on the table." Pausing for a moment before continuing, she selected one of the peppers and sniffed it. "I recommend not touching your eyes if you handle these."

    "Now, if the chancellor should giggle you will take a shot and immediately eat a pepper." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, "so, tell the others and take a glass." She motioned to the slave standing behind her and gave him instructions to keep their glasses topped off.

    Tag: everyone!
     
  4. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Ruin
    Mortis, in orbit

    A voice, spectral, rose up, as they arrived. 'And now you shall see why I vouch for One, and not Two, or Many.'

    It came from a pocket on Draconis. The amulet of Darth Bane and Kalara spoke up. The spirit of the Umbaran Dark Lord emerged, almost grinning.

    As he did the ship was surrounded by what could only be described by the Force. In a flash, Draconis and Re'van appeared in a realm of white, and standing behind them was a man of grey complexion and clothing, far taller than either of them, with wings outspread.

    'Mortis can only be breached by two; one to live, and one to die. Material death, that is what separates all. Take a spirit, put it into another body - it still embraced its death; it can never be what it was once. It is from beginnings, and endings, that we are born.'

    Ruin snickered.

    ---
    Fifty years past

    Darth Insipid could have been mistaken for a child. His hands and face were pressed to the transparisteel as he gazed upon Mortis. He and the ship's sole other occupant could not have been more different, and Insipid could not have been more afraid of her, but wonderment still filled him. The realm of the Celestials. Rediscovered at long last.

    The smell of decay filled the ship and Insipid fought it off again. They had tried their best, and Insipid had thought that a Gen'dai would have lasted a mite longer than this. It had not been altogether a long hop, in galactic distances, but the route out of the Unknown Regions had been treacherous, and they had been required to avoid Fel II's relentless pursuit of any and all leads to Darth Insipid.

    The Second Jedi Civil War, Force Cold War and the Great Force War were all over - fifteen years of conflict caused by Insipid's direct machinations but now he had to hide it out. Back into stasis for another few more decades, until his Voice could confirm that Darth Krayt was active again; then he would rejoin, with the three stolen Sith Holocrons as bait. If Krayt wanted the knowledge of Andeddu, Bane and Nihilus back, he would need to play nice.

    Insipid refocused.

    They crossed into the Portal; She had warned him about this. They simply had to pass a riddle and that was it -

    No, wait, the Sith Lord gasped, the riddle was about death, not about -

    Pain consumed him and after a moment Darth Insipid was remotely watching his body crumple.

    He looked at her. 'You lied.'

    She smiled, that alien face again, moulding within flesh of a Gen'dai, flakes falling from her skin as her Force presence burned through it. One moment almost avian, another a kindly old man, a further a young boy with piercing blue eyes - she adopted her avian face once more.

    'Everything I tell -'

    'Yes, yes, I know the line.' Insipid was livid. 'So now you hold my soul in you hand. Do you wish for me to beg before you crush it?'

    'Not at all,' again the kindly old man. 'We made a deal.'

    'In we go.'

    ---
    Now

    A ripple of memory, and the spirit of Darth Bane seemed to snatch something from the air. 'There. The remnant of who was last here, shared for all.'

    The old man gravely looked upon the spirit. 'Phanius, I recall you. Recall what I saw when you came to us. A series of events. Snapping chain links. From here to the end; to a paroxysm of universes, of timelines, of Time. I foresaw what you would bring to us.'

    'I would leave only One,' Ruin said, grinning.

    The remnant of the Father - for it could be no other - nodded. 'Just One. Even Gods would fall to what came. And here I am; a slither of a soul, guarding the way into Mortis. I am dead. All of my children are dead or corrupted. My wife remains; a monster that is a fake God... To what is to come.'

    'My true failure.'

    Father looked from Draconis to Re'van. He examined the connection that lay between them. Not just between their shells, but between their essences. While in this world they had met only recently; the man and woman behind the masks had known each other for a long, long time.

    For Darth Insipid to pit them against each other was a treachery most foul.

    The Father gestured. Two wooden frames doors appeared, one behind him, one behind them. 'The way back and forth can only be opened with blood.' The ground transformed into a network of stone, into which blood could fall. A circle, and then a slight tug of a stone would see the contents of the circle flow to either door. The space in the circle was finite, that which was to be filled with blood, but it did require the sun total of a full adult to fill it.

    'I can only hope reason prevails.'

    The Father gestured, clenching his hand, and Darth Ruin screamed - silent Kalara too - the amulet shattered and both the Father and Ruin vanished.

    Leaving just two.

    No more, no less.

    TAG: dragonsith13, HunterPrime


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  5. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    Darth_Elu and greyjedi125 combo

    ******************************************

    Darth Manticore & Darth Invidius
    Sith Temple, Banquet Hall


    The Sith Battlelord was, as expected, shrouded in the blackest robes, dark as night itself. One would mistake his attire for his usual fair, except for the prominent red lining and the few accents of gold in strategic places. The oversized hood was up, framing his feral visage within a void, fiery eyes peering out, always surveying and assessing. Darth Manticore's saber staff was presently separated into its two components, which hung at each side of his his person, fastened to his black leather waist band.

    The High Lord had called for his sith apprentice, Darth Invidius. The time to attend the banquet was at hand.

    Manticore clenched and unclenched a black gloved hand as he waited for his the Ssi-Ruu.

    This was a moment long awaited.

    It would only be a matter of moments before the High Lord's apprentice did indeed show up. His feet, despite his claws, silently moving across the floor.

    He had been swift the moment he heard himself be summoned by his master. The ssi-ruu roused himself from his meditation, made sure the training saber was still well attached to his bandolier, then proceeded to quickly leave his modest quarters and head for where Lord Manticore awaited. As he made his way there, he noticed a few other people that were clearly not servants or slaves of any kind, and thus masked himself as much as possible and hid from view. It wouldn't do to show himself just yet. Almost time, but not yet.

    Nevertheless, it didn't take long for him to arrive and immediately kneel once more before the zabrak Battlelord. His eyes were downcast, but they had taken Manticore's measure. His attire wasn't much different, but there were a few subtleties present from what Invidius usually noticed him in. The red and gold touches namely. This verified the fact that his master did indeed such niceties that many other species seemed so intent on. Clothing and various levels of decorum with them. The redscale would simply have to get used to it, he wasn't on Lwhekk anymore. Still, that didn't mean he had to follow suit as he was quite plainly in the same "clothing" he always was in. Albeit, the sword that dangled from his hip due to lower part of the bandolier, was no longer the only weapon on his person. The hilt of the saber and its dark leather hilt attested to that.

    A ssi-ruuk could do a form of 'dressing up' in celebrations and special events as well, the idea behind it being understood at the very least, but that would require colorful feathers. Something Invidius was rather certain did not exist on this Moraband world. It didn't particularly bother him, it may have even slightly taken away from his task given to him earlier depending.

    "I have arrived at your summons, my master. I assume it is time to head for the...festivities." The distaste was clear as he mouthed the last word. But he would not question his new master, to do so would be paramount to shoving his weapon through his face.

    “Rise, my apprentice.”

    Manticore rasped from within the darkness of his hood, his fiery gaze scanning the ssi-ruuk. In the force, he could sense it. Darth Invidius was ready. The High Lord and the ssi-ruuk were of similar minds when it came to such events involving ‘pageantry’, another common thread; but the understanding and compliance to Sith Culture was the foundation for their actions.

    “Yes, Invidius. It is time.” the zabrak answered simply.

    Lord Manticore simply turned and moved out towards a lift, fully expecting his apprentice to followed his black form as he silently moved down the corridor.

    No words were needed. Many lessons would be at play, some obvious, others not, for there were subtleties and undercurrents to navigate and to discover. Manticore remained walking before his apprentice, just a few paces ahead.

    Getting to the Victory Banquet Hall had taken but a moment. As planned, the Battlelord was the first to enter the room, slowly. His darkly robed form did not speak, for he let his presence announce him. His fiery eyes casually scanned the great room as he entered, allowing him to spy those who had entered before as well as persons of interest.

    As he turns dot the left, he made way for his sizable apprentice to make his own entrance, in a way showcasing him. Under his black hood, Manticore wore slowly growing smirk of utter satisfaction.

    Yes, this was an apprentice he could finally be proud of.

    Invidius rose as he was bid and stood expectantly before Manticore while he scanned him with his eyes, his thoughts mysterious and his own.

    And how shall we proceed? The Ssi-ruu wondered.

    "Yes, Invidius. It is time." A statement that he could only nod to in acknowledgement.

    Just like that, his master turned and strode briskly toward a lift without sound but with every fiber of his being emanating a strong purpose in the Force. No further words, no orders, just a reticent expectation.

    Invidius followed along just as quietly, a few paces behind. A Master and his apprentice must be in tandem and of like mind otherwise they were nothing.

    Before long they had arrived at the banquet and Manticore entered first without words, letting his mere existence speak for itself.

    Invidius waited just out of sight, not yet in the Hall, with his tail flicking to and fro a few times. There were no words, but there was an order to these etchings. He learned that in his training back on his home world.

    Finally, he turned to the left, creating an opening. To be revealed like a trophy of some form. Invidius decided to just take as a compliment, his master being who he was. He also decided this was the instant to begin his own presence and to begin his form of deception.

    The Sith were now comrades. He was one of them. The Sith were also rivals in ascension. He would rise above them. His scent-tongues flicked out a single time. The power and glory were his.

    At long last, Invidius stepped into the Victory Banquet Hall, making a large and heavy footfall as he did so. It would give the false impression that he was unable to move silently. A boon for the future in a myriad of ways. He entered the hall slowly, but only subtly so, to make it seem like a normal pace. The intention here? To make himself seem even larger. Tails and his sheer bulk aided him in this regard when around other species, a tidbit he learned from provoking terror in prisoners of the Imperium back in the day.

    Draw out your entrance, but don't make it apparent.

    Light glinted off his vibroblade, his lightsaber hilt dangling off the bandolier as well. His saurian eyes sharpened as he slowly eyed all in the room, as if wondering who was prey and who was inconsequential. A low growl emitted from his throat, made more menacing from his gaze and fangs.

    Finally he turned to incline his head again to his master visibly for all to see.

    "Massster," he nodded in that growl-accented voice.

    Lord Manticore, inclined his head.

    "Apprentice."

    He said out loud, outwardly acknowledging the ssi-ruu as his chosen apprentice for all to see, and inwardly satisfied that the Force had provided him with someone worthy to train.

    With a gloved hand, Manticore gestured towards the Emperor and the present members of the Sith Triumvirate, High Lords and Underlords. He then respectfully bowed towards them; a gesture he fully expected Invidius to emulate.

    After that, the zabrak wasted no time and moved to take his assigned seat. He included with his head, indicating were Invidius was to locate himself on the table. It all had been planned ahead after all.

    The Battlelord noted the specific and particular pairings as well as the glaring absent seats, specifically that of Re'van and Draconis. The High Lord's fiery eyes narrowed for a brief moment, before settling back to his smoldering stoic demeanor. That was a mystery for later, the banquet was also important, which was the focus of the moment.

    Once seated, it was clear that proceedings had begun. He did not have to wait long for a veil to be dropped, which revealed Empress Marasiah Fel.

    Manticore's force senses were already scanning the room and now became more prominent.

    The High Lord looked upon the Empress' hanging form. The jewel of coruscant was on display for all to see, at the Sith Victory banquet. She who had been the leader of their allied enemies, a beacon for the jedi. The one who had killed Digrant. Would she muster any signs of strength in her final moments? the Sith Lord wondered curiously.

    At that, Lord Manticore's fiery penetrating gaze was leveled towards the former Senator now elevated to Chancellor ( who so happened to be in the company of Lady Hesper ). Did he seem terribly pleased? It was a curious thing, politics. Everyone involved took their turn sipping out of the poisoned cup, it seemed.

    Languidly, the zabrak's gloved hand rose, as he demanded a slave bring him a goblet with drink.

    These were festivities after all; he should at least look the part.

    To peace.

    Tag: @Darth_Elu, @Sinrebirth ( *indirectly, @HanSolo29, @corinthia, anyone who wishes to interact )
     
  6. A Blind Prophet

    A Blind Prophet Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 25, 2016
    IC: Teafa Phaidraig, Showers, Sith Temple, Morabund

    As a result of both interruptions, the man and the Force, Teafa had decided to stay under the water for a few more minutes, letting the warm water soothe her muscles and help both them and her mind to relax. She was mildly shocked at how stiff she had become without the ability to move around as much.. While she was no particular stranger to meditation, being stuck in that situation where about all she could do was some exercises and pacing in a small circle was something else entirely. Especially for days.

    Eventually she went back out to where her things were, and found a beautiful dress in blood red laying there. Of course, she couldn't tell that it was blood red, as it was more of a slightly darker grey in her Force Sight. It left her back bare, and fitted snugly along her bust with a loop that went up around her neck. It was a bit longer than she would have preferred, as it trailed along on the floor as she put it and the necessary undergarments on. But when she did Teafa found herself shivering deliciously. Shimmersilk. It was the first time she'd ever worn the material, and she decided then and there that she could get used to it. The satin undergarments were also a luxury that should it become a norm in her life that she would certainly not complain about. There had even been a black, suede rancor leather belt for her to attach both her blaster and vibroblade to and she found herself smiling the first genuine smile in nearly three weeks. Slipping her bracelet on her wrist again she felt complete. There was also a note, mentioning the room that her other clothes would be left in after they were cleaned and she nodded to herself. So the slavant had figured out that she was a new acolyte to the Sith, and had left her with appropriate accommodations. But perhaps the most important thing about the whole situation was the respect she had ultimately received from those that were clearly beneath even herself. It boded potentially well, though she wasn't fooling herself that the higher ups would look upon her with particular favor. After all, what had she done for the order save come? She wasn't a particularly spectacular gift on her own, but it was what it was.

    "Took your sweet time did you?" A woman addressed her as she emerged from the showers.

    Starting, Teafa turned towards the woman and started to speak, "I'm sorry, I didn't kno-"

    "It doesn't matter. You were not to leave the other new apprentice, and now you have wasted my time. My name is Lenora, now come with me and we'll go see to your seating." The woman started walking away, simply assuming that Teafa would be following her. "Your other... clothes will be in your new quarters." The word clothes had come out with a very distinct sniff to show how much she disapproved of the garments. They're the best I could do. It wasn't like the Luka Sene were particularly known for their elaborate uniforms.

    As they walked through the halls Teafa decided that silence was the better part of valor at the moment and simply followed Lenora.

    "You'll be meeting your new master tonight, I'll point him out to you when he arrives," Lenora said brusquely.

    That was a bit of a surprise to her. "But I thought I was going to have to find one?" The surprise was evident in her voice, as well as a slight tremble of fear. Who would want me without having even met me? For some reason she was sure that could not possibly bode well.

    A snort was the only response she received, and so Teafa was left alone with her thoughts as they approached the banquet hall and she and the other apprentice that she had never gotten a name out of were swept into their places. It was such a whirl of motion, and apparently they were nearly late going by Lenora's personal attitude, that Teafa hadn't noticed the sheer amount of darkness centered in that one room. As she was finally given a moment to breath, and Lenora addressed the other woman pointing out her master or something, Teafa looked. And saw. Beings blazing in the Force, casting a dark light about them in what seemed the opposite of a glow. It was more like it swallowed the light around them, making it slightly harder to see details of the things around them. There were those who were lighter, a middling or dark grey as well, the apprentices and more normal beings who didn't blaze with the power of the Force. And then there was the one being who showed how dark her surroundings truly were, as one mane blazed with a pure whiteness, almost as though he were a being made of light. It reminded of some of her previous teachers. Part of her wanted to go over and talk to the rather obvious Jedi, the rest of her knew that would be a very bad idea. Were she going to survive here Teafa was well aware that she was going to have to acclimate to the darkness, and learn to use it herself. Turning away, she wondered where her master might be. The only seats that filled now were the ones at the front of the room,

    Jumping at a trumpet blast, fanfare, Teafa looked around and watched for what she should be doing. As most everyone else sat, Teafa did so as well. The fanfare again and didn't stop as four beings and their... apprentices? entered. If Teafa had had eyes they would have widened. She had thought that she had seen darkness in the others that were here, but the three obvious rulers of the Sith were on a very different level. Particularly the one in the middle, he was a veritable black hole of blazing dark light. It was almost blinding to her mind, and while she could see the details of the man they were also lost in the darkness as well. It was nearly overwhelming.

    "That's your master," Lenora whispered in her ear and pointed straight to the man she was basically staring at.

    "Him?" She squeaked out the question. This was all too much. What business did she have being the apprentice of the Emperor himself? Oh Ashla, what have I gotten myself into? A sordid chuckle was the only response that she received. That was the answer to that then. A chill went down her spine as Teafa noticed the man staring straight at her for several moments as well. Finding herself at a complete loss for words, she just watched to see what was going to happen.

    Everyone rose as the Emperor levitated a an over-sized goblet into his hand and raised a toast to the Empire. Teafa joined in, not trusting herself to levitate a cup of liquid in her current state, so instead she physically picked up her own goblet. It was nowhere near the same size or quality, but there was no reason that it should have been. The wine helped to calm her nerves just a bit, and she bowed her head and just breathed for a moment. It was a good vintage, not that she was much of a judge of such things having seldom had any alcoholic beverages during her time with the Luka Sene. They didn't have anything against drinking, she just hadn't ever felt much of a need for it.

    Setting the goblet back down Teafa began to sit, and felt a twitch in the Force as her chair jerked itself out from underneath her and she felt a jolt in her tailbone as she landed on the ground. A squeak turned grunt escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and Teafa just sat there for a moment. As she rose, Teafa felt eyes on her again from up on high and saw her master looking at her with a slightly sadistic smile upon his face. So that's how it's going to be. There had been hazing at her high school when she first got there, and given that it was a bunch of hormonal teenagers that had access to the Force to varying degrees Teafa was no stranger to such pranks, and had even partaken in them a couple of times when someone had been particularly obnoxious, but it had never been in such a setting as this.

    Pulling her chair back underneath her, letting it scrape on the ground noisily, Teafa decided she didn't care if she attracted attention by doing so. The only way through this was to not let it bother her. And she knew much worse was coming in the future. Because in such a setting clearly it always would be.

    She noticed several Sith being lead to the front of the room and found herself wondering what they had done. This was clearly some kind of victory feast, what with all of the damage still apparent in the building. The wookiee that she had noticed leaving earlier was there. Each of them was presented with a medal with some gemstone in the middle of them, and when the pretty young being came to the wookiee he was forced to bend over slightly so that the medal could be placed around his neck. Just as this was clearly a victory feast, just as clear was the fact that these were heroes of some sort. Most likely related to what had drawn her here in the first place, the overwhelming darkness that no one else had been able to sense on her homeworld.

    As applause began, some louder than others, Teafa joined in sedately. It was hard to applaud something that she had no clue about, but it wouldn't do for her to not do anything. Lenora gave her a disapproving look, but remained quiet. What do you want from me woman? I don't know what's going on, and no one had the grace to tell me.

    After that the food and drink had come, and come in abundance. For the first time in days Teafa found herself completely sated, and if she was being honest with herself a bit too much so. The wine had left her a bit tipsy, and so she had eaten more than she normally would have. There had been lots of talking around her, but to Teafa nary a word was said. It was almost like she was at the center of a storm of motion and conversation, the calm in the midst of the chaos of revelry. It did give her plenty of opportunity to observe all of those around her, which was something she didn't mind. She was just glad that no one else had played a prank on her so far and that there had been no verbal hazing either. Right then it was the small victories that were enough.

    Suddenly the Emperor rose and ignited his lightsaber, drawing every eye in the room. That was a sound that would always be an attention grabber, even without the light that accompanied it for other beings. There was a since of the Force to it, as there was in all lightsabers, and she could see inky blackness where others would see a blazing redness. Just as quickly he turned it off and returned it to his belt. As the Emperor spoke she got a little bit of a clue of what had been going on, and she found her brows rising as the list extended. She suddenly understood the blaze of dark power she had felt centered around this place, and just rapidly understood the galaxy shaking consequences that she had missed out on while in transit to this place. Teafa found herself very glad that she was currently seated, otherwise she might have ended up on the floor. Or at the very least in the chair she had been assigned. Overwhelmed was a good word, and if she were being honest with herself she wasn't entirely sure of most of what the Emperor was talking about. She had stumbled across Mortis in her research, but hadn't paid it much mind as it had seemed more of a delusion than anything else. And now she was finding out it was entirely real. Supposedly. Given what she had felt... well, it didn't seem quite so improbable anymore.

    As she found out what the plans were moving forward Teafa wondered what in the Force her role was supposed to be in all of this? She knew herself to be quite weak compared to everyone else here, if not in potential power then in what she had actual access to. Before she could really consider that much further, she was buffeted by the power of the Darkside as it emanated from Emperor Insipid, a show of power to all present. There was a sense of ease in what he had done. So we're going to fight a God. A real one. How am I supposed to help with that? I don't want to be canon-fodder. Reaching out, Teafa took another sip of her wine. It wasn't because she was really thirsty, though the lump in her throat would certainly suggest otherwise. No, Teafa needed it to steady herself.

    Then the cloth was pulled aside from what Teafa had assumed was some kind of chandelier, and found a body hanging there. Forcing herself to hold the scream that was rising up in her throat, Teafa stared. The simple fact of a dead body hanging above a banquet table was bad enough, but that she also recognized who it was... What kind of power do these people have that they can hang an Empress with no fear? Feeling a bit sick to her stomach, Teafa stood up and walked away from the table, suddenly having very little desire to partake in the revels or food any longer. What she wanted was a quiet corner so that she could regain control of herself. Absently she wished she hadn't drunk quite so much, but what did that really matter ultimately? The only real difference that she could tell it would make was that she was more likely to die with a hangover than without. At that moment the last thing in the galaxy that she wanted was to have to speak to her master, but given that they had yet to even interact other than a chair being pulled away from her, it seemed highly probable that was what was going to happen next. The perfect cap to a perfectly turbulent week.


    TAG: Anyone, Sinrebirth (Should you want to do a combo)
     
  7. E. L.Knight

    E. L.Knight Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Dec 4, 2012
    IC: Who Knows?

    Alive.

    Alive.

    Had He?

    He had.

    Not even a star could...?

    Incredible.

    Looking around, there was a realization. A consumption had been interrupted. And as such...

    Oh.

    'You're here still,' came the whisper.


    He was in a void of solid black, formless except for thought only.


    The whisper was gentle, yet something about it was strange, alien, and he was confused. Was he supposed to embrace this, or be repulsed?

    Life.....

    He could not remember. Why was he here?


    Alive.....yet not.....

    What was this?

    'We are and we will.' The whisper sounded out in the void.

    He did not comprehend it's meaning.

    TAG: None.
     
  8. A Blind Prophet

    A Blind Prophet Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 25, 2016
    Combo between myself and Sinrebirth

    C: Teafa Phaidraig, Emperor Insipid, and Ike/ Banquet Hall/ Morabund


    Teafa wasn't afforded very long to herself, mere moments really, before Lenora came over and grabbed her by the ear. "How dare you leave the table, you ungrateful worm." Lenora was saying, and Teafa found herself freezing in shock that someone would dare touch her. That was one of the gravest mistakes one could make in Miraluka culture, and one of the very few privacy's that her species was allowed.

    "Now, get back to the table. Yo-" A slap rang out in the local area, followed by a sweeping motion to remove the offending hand from Teafa's head.
    "You will Not. Touch. Me." There was anger and indignation blazing from Teafa, almost like a visible flame... at least on her homeworld it would have been such. No one else could see that, but there were enough Force Sensitives in the area that any still sober enough to pay attention would notice. "I will return when I decide to return, and not a moment sooner." The look of shock on Lenora's face was enough to make Teafa stand her ground, though there would likely be some sort of consequence moving forward.
    After the moment settled a slight smile bloomed on the Keshiri's face, though it was anything but a symbol of happiness like she was used to. "Good little one, use your anger. Though do not think I will let you lay a finger on me again." Turning away, obviously assuming that Teafa would fall in line, Lenora continued. "Your Master instructed me to bring you to him." The tone this was said in was almost light, but the weight that it carried was obvious. And so Teafa found herself falling in line behind the older woman.
    Approaching the head of the table was unnerving to Teafa, as it became more and more apparent just how powerful this group of Sith was. Any of the three leaders could snap her in half by accident, and there was nothing she could do about it. "As requested, Emperor," Lenora bowed as she spoke. Rapidly Following suit, bowed in not precisely the most graceful manner, but it was also literally the first time she'd ever done it. At least I don't have to curtsy. That would have been mildly disastrous.
    Taking a breath, Teafa spoke to her master for the first time. "What would you have of me Master? I'm here to serve." Try as she might, her voice was still not entirely steady. The steel that had appeared when Lenora touched her paled in comparison of the sheer power that she was looking at.
    Darth Insipid looked her up and down, gesturing for Lenora to leave them. He had an inkling that there was more to this one that met the eye, and although the pun curled his lip, the Emperor had little else to add. There was was a war on. And so he could hardly devote the attention she deserved to her.
    'Consort,' he intoned, smiling slightly at the Triumvirs.
    'Yes, Emperor?' Ike, resplendent in his purple silk attire, smiled. 'What can I do for you.' Ike did in-fact curtsy. It was all pomp, but the Emperor did bare his teeth in a smile.
    'I can bequeath upon you an apprentice as a Life Day present, if you so wish.' The Emperor had starting speaking about her as if she was not there.
    Ike quirked a lip. 'Sounds like work. I'm only especially interested in one or two types of work.' That winsome grin again, all flirt, no substance.
    The Emperor held up a finger to forestall a comment. 'Thoughts, apprentice?' He hadn't learned her name. Apprentice would do.
    There was something in Teafa that was repelled at the idea of being handed off so casually to someone else. She was also taken aback that he would even ask her, as wasn't it his job to simply decide? It likely stemmed from a simple lack of time, especially considering the coming battle in the morning. In essence Emperor Insipid was giving her an out. Before answering, she actually took the time to think about the offer. While whoever this consort of the Emperor's was wasn't precisely what she had been looking for in a master, not that she'd had an exact image in the first place, it would likely keep her alive for longer.
    Looking back at the Emperor, she could see the age in him, and something that she couldn't exactly place. There was some sense of other, like fitting a square peg into a round hole, that simply did not belong with this particular body. Almost like the essence of the man before her was too great for the physical vessel to hold. Not that she knew what to make of it in the slightest, but it was something she only would have noticed this close to him. In the end she decided she would prefer him despite the potential for death, to the rather flamboyant consort.
    Taking a deep breath Teafa framed her response, "I think that I would likely learn more simply observing you than anyone else here could teach my by actively trying. Whether I would live past tomorrow to put those lessons to use seems..." Here she hesitated. "Improbable at best. But one could say much the same for anyone going on this mission. If nothing else, I could watch your back? I'm good at remaining unseen." There was a slight note of hopefulness at the chance to be useful. There is such a thing as knowing your limits Teafa.
    The Emperor appraised her. 'A reasoned reply.' He drew a drink to his hand, sipped at the liquid. Absently swirling it, he spoke. 'There will be things that I need to do. Things that a shadow cannot unsee. If you cannot keep up...' Darth Insipid seemed to concede a point in his mind. 'You may fall back to Ike. There will be no shame in that, in my eyes. I would not have you kill yourself attempting to keep up.'
    Ike snorted. 'Generous.' The man settled back in a seat. 'Perhaps too generous.'
    Had she eyes they would have widened slightly, as that was not what she had expected. Generosity from a Sith seemed to go against everything in the Luka Sene histories. Generosity from the Emperor of the Sith seemed even more incongruous. There had to be some kind of hook in this, something that as inexperienced at these kinds of situations as she was would likely remain unseen. Didn't there?
    'Perhaps.' Insipid chuckled softly. 'There is much to be said by being generous. Perhaps little Teafa will prove me wrong. Perhaps I shall approve of that. Perhaps I shall view her dropping back as an affront - or perhaps I shall view her succeeding as the affront. And perhaps not.' He took another swig.
    Again surprise for Teafa, given that she hadn't been asked. But then it seemed improbable that she would be presented to someone as an apprentice without them at least knowing her name. Duh Teafa, use your brain. You have it for a reason. And there's the hook. The trap. As if I wasn't going to be self conscious enough.She wanted to sigh, but knew that was highly inappropriate in this particular company.
    'I accept your apprenticeship.' The Emperor nodded to the mingling crowd. 'Your first role will be sniff out what Ike cannot. He is Consort; he walks in different circles to you. I am Emperor; I have not the time to walk, nor circles that I share with any beyond two.' He eyed the Night and Dawn Heralds. 'There is an Ithorian here. He has a Holocron. They do not have a strong rapport, the Loremaster has suggested. Perhaps you should acquire it. Not many apprentices I would trust with a Holocron - but the Ithorian is too brittle, too fickle and too unsure of himself to benefit from it - and you shall need more than one teacher if you are to surpass me one day.'
    Bowing, Teafa remained silent. There was nothing to say, and it seemed that the Emperor was not quite done speaking.
    A little enticement at the end. Not likely to be fulfilled, but amusing. 'You are part of my power base now. Act like it. Acquire me more power.' And with that the Emperor stood from his seat and moved on.
    Bowing again, this as Emperor Insipid rose to leave Teafa finally spoke, "Thank you Master. I will do my best." Although it was ultimately to his back, which raised the question of if he'd even heard or not. And whether her best would be good enough... well, the morrow would certainly be quite telling.
    Ike shrugged. He leaned closer. 'If you need me, hun, I'll be there. But I won't do it for you. Keep that in mind.' With a swagger of his hips, Ike followed his lover.
    Nodding to Ike, Teafa yet again found herself saying thank you to someone's back. It seemed that even though she was the apprentice of the most powerful being here, she wasn't to be treated as... anything really. It shouldn't have surprised her very much, given how much of an unknown she was, and it drove home the point of how different of a world she now found herself in. Perhaps better than anything else could have.
    As Teafa walked away from the head of the table, she was contemplating something that her master had said, that there would be things he must do. Things that could not be unseen, and possibly for one such as her that would be even worse. Because if it was something she had seen, it was something she could remember with near crystal clarity.Perhaps my memory will prove to be a curse yet again.There were things from her past that Teafa would have very much preferred to forget. Things that had been done to her, that made her react even stronger to unwelcome or unexpected touches from someone, anyone, than a normal member of her species. Even Talwar. There's nothing for it, he gave me a choice and I decided. Now I have to live with it.Again the thought of knowing her limits echoed in the back of her mind.
    Looking around for the Ithorian that Emperor Insipid had mentioned, she decided it would be wise to see if she could obtain the Holocron that had been mentioned. It seemed somewhat improbable that it would be given up easily, as a Holocron was a means to power. As Emperor Insipid had said himself, there were not many he would trust with such a device. Either he saw her as so insignificant that even with tools such as that she could never pose a threat, or he genuinely wanted her to obtain a measure of power that could rival his. That was a heady thought. And given the wine that she had already imbibed, perhaps unwisely, she found it sticking. What would she do with that kind of power? What, exactly, was her goal in even coming here? Obtain power for the greater good, but what did that even mean? It would require some thought should she survive the next few days.
    Eventually she spotted the telltale shape of the Ithorian's head, and wandered over that way in what she hoped wasn't too pointed of a fashion. Lightly nudging him on the shoulder with the Force, at least she assumed it was a male as she wasn't entirely familiar with Ithorian biology nor was she looking that closely, Teafa said pleasantly, "Hello master Ithorian, I was instructed to introduce myself to some people. I'm Teafa Phaidraig, might I trouble you for a moment of your time?" Hopefully he isn't drunk. Or angry. Or... touchy.


    TAG: @DarthIshyZ, Mitth_Fisto (lemme know if you guys wanna do a combo after you respond to the larger update)
     
  9. ConservativeJedi321

    ConservativeJedi321 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 19, 2016
    Combo With QueenSabe7
    IC: Radian and Darth Syren
    Banquet Hall

    Radian sat quietly hands folded in front of him, contemplating on the Jedi Code.
    There is no Emotion, There is Peace
    There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
    There is no passion, there is serenity.
    There is no death, there is the Force.

    The whole spectacle was nothing more than a show to the Sith, that he could see. He was not their guest, but their trophy.
    Something to be paraded around, to represent their supposed supremacy.
    The whole speech by the emperor was nothing more than one big "kark you" directed at him, it was obvious. Oh perhaps there was more to it, is was possible by they really were celebrating, that this festiveness would occur whether or not he had been present

    But deep down he knew; as things were now his suffering was the main attraction. They wanted to taunt him, throw their victories in his face and watch him squirm. Their savagery was made plain and simple when their central "décor" was unveiled. The Jedi remained silent the whole time, he didn't flinch, or even acknowledge the grotesque display before him. Though he felt his stomach turn, and a small sense of shame bubble up as he came to terms with how he failed to rescue the Empress. But he would not let it boil to the surface. He would not give them the satisfaction.

    Marasiah Fel had been a fully trained Imperial Knight, subduing her could not have been a simple task. And he could not imagine the horrors she must have suffered in her final hours to make her complacent enough to be placed in this situation now.
    He glanced at Aryan Graul, though it may have come closer to being a glare to those who observed him. Whatever the man was now he was not the Chancellor, not his Chancellor at least. No true leader would sit ideally while this vile display as revealed.
    Radian couldn't simply leave at this point he knew, but he would stay no longer than was required. Perhaps after the banquet he could slip away, escape back to the Jedi and tell this tale.
    This inhumane treaty would not last when the galaxy became aware of how the Sith celebrated their victory.

    Syren was gazing above with mild curiosity, her head tilted to the side as her eyes roved over the body that hung aloft for all to see. Taking a sip of her drink, she sighed, her focus on the display waning. The overall disinterest she felt was not due to lack of information. She had spent most of that afternoon doing her best to access news reports and logs, learning what she could about the recent battles the Sith had been a part of, thatshe had been a part of, among other topics of interest. Her reward had been an overall understanding of Emperor Insipid's speech and, narrowing her eyes at the woman's face, she knew exactly who she was and what her death could mean to the Sith, Jedi, and the galaxy at large.

    It was all interesting, really, but to a point. Syren still felt so far removed from the present. And in her current mood she didn’t care to dwell on how she felt, there would be plenty of time for that later. Instead her attentions turned to the figure clad in all-white who occupied the chair next to her. The light side energies emanating from him created an odd sort of pressure around her; awkward and unpleasant. She wouldn't even have to lay eyes on him to know what he was. Jedi. The apprentice brazenly began to scrutinize his overall demeanor, not bothering to be discrete. She was looking for any expression or reaction to... well, everything. She was positive this Jedi, in all the passiveness and preaching of his Order, would see the whole affair as a disgusting display of power. She eagerly tried to read his emotions but he gave nothing away.

    How boring. Perhaps she could change that.

    Making a decision, she set her glass down and shifted her body enough to face him, leaning in ever so slightly. Crossing her right leg over her left to utilize the high slit her ensemble provided, she was showing enough skin as to be difficult to ignore. Pulling the silver flask from the front of her dress, she held it out to him with an eyebrow raised, amusement clearly showing across her face.


    “This will take the edge off,” she began in a low voice. “If you find yourself… angered, perhaps enraged… by the Emperor’s choice of table ornament.”

    Radian had just finished repeating the Jedi Code in his head for the sixty eighth time that night, and felt his anxiety decrease once more as it had every time he thought it since the display was unveiled. He had completely regained his mental composure, and as far as he could tell nobody was even aware he had lost it.

    His attention had just returned to the empty plate before him when he heard her voice It had been the first time he had even glanced at the female human sitting next to him. By all accounts she was attractive by her species standards, which technically weren't all that different from his own. But he wouldn't be distracted so easily. The most recent incarnations of the Jedi Order may be somewhat more amiable towards emotions than their forbearers, but Radian had always considered himself married to the order. Plus, this was a Sith, it was a ridiculous notion to him that anything could be taken seriously in such an exchange.

    Nonetheless he responded as cordially has he could manage.
    "No thank you, it seems I have... lost my appetite" He calmly declared.
    "And such base emotions are beneath me." He added after a brief pause

    Syren laughed, genuinely entertained by the Jedi’s cool and unruffled reply. He was good. And this was fun. “I figured you’d say as much,” she said dismissively. “Suit yourself.” She pulled back and opened the flask, taking a small swig of its contents. Summoning a slave with her free hand, food arrived almost immediately for both of them. Grabbing some sort of root vegetable from her plate, she nibbled while continuing to observe him openly.

    A Mirialan, she realized upon closer inspection, noting the hue of his skin and the network of tattoos upon his face. That was all she could decipher from her angle, his hood keeping the rest of his features hidden. It was intriguing to her as to why he would even attend a gathering of this nature. Maybe he had been ordered, maybe he was just foolish. Either way, sitting here in his white robes of serenity, she pictured a lamb at the center of a rancor pit.


    “You say such emotions are beneath you, but what about the emotions stirred by what is above you?” She asked casually while pointing to the Empress, as if they were talking about whether it was about to rain. “Everyone here is just waiting for you to crack… perhaps you should satisfy them so you can enjoy the rest of the evening.”

    Radian simply scoffed, rolling his eye's behind the shroud of his hood; though he figured the Sith woman couldn't see them, she probably could guess that would be his reaction.
    He looked once again to the plate before him, taking his utensil to poke and prod at the deep fried Nuna leg, though he didn't bite.

    If she thought he was so pliable she would be sorely disappointed.
    The shock of the witches presence at the battle was the only reason Abeloth had gotten under his skin, he would not fall again. He repeated the vow he made after the twisted event.

    "The past can not be undone, their is no use regretting what I could not have prevented. It is unfortunate..." he hesitated as he shifted his gaze back in her direction. "But I wouldn't be a Jedi if I couldn't keep the more primitive feelings in check now would I?" He gave a small smirk at the declaration, though he hardly felt happy given the situation.

    For all the amusement she had just been experiencing, she felt the sudden stain of disgust. Her parents were no longer Jedi by the time she was born and as she grew they sought to distance themselves even further from their former lives. But all the same, she was very familiar with the Jedi principles and self-righteousness they seemed to think so highly of. It never made sense to her. Syren had always been ruled by her emotions and that would never change

    A hand reflexively reached around to her back, fingers grazing one of her lightsaber hilts. She had no intention of doing anything stupid but there was that little voice in the back of her head, urging her to do what had become only natural. Kill.

    “No, I don’t suppose you would.” She downed the rest of her drink. “You would be something else entirely.”

    A subtle shiver went through Radian's spine, and the faintest tingle of his danger sense was apparent. As fun as it may be to fool with a Sith such as this, perhaps a Jedi proverb or adage that would simply drive her and her compatriots to the brink, his better judgement warned against it. They were tolerating him now, though he figured it was best not to press his luck.

    He had been a Jedi for as long as he could remember, and could imagine no other life for himself. He had heard of the atrocities the Sith committed and witnessed many for himself. The display before him alone would be enough to represent everything he knew to be wrong with the Dark Side. It gave temporary power, but at what cost? How anyone could put so little value upon another sentience life... it was inconceivable.

    Hesitantly the Jedi handled his glass and took a small sip before responding.
    "I shudder to think..." and he simply left it at that.

    Tags: Anyone I the room
     
  10. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    Come one Come all to the Dining Hall! [face_skull]

    Sitting, watching, staring. So much life, so much potential. Why hidden in the dark corners and behind curtains was the stirrings of bacteria, fungi, and molds so diverse that it thrilled it's facets to feel them surging, to watch the simple life hidden amid the large and dominate life growing and changing, merging and someday to break forth. Rot as it truly should be. Rot in its proper order.

    Taking in the words and happenings about it, it simply sat, sit, no. . .it rested and it observed. Yes, those were the words. Or was it that It was merely tasting the ambiance, the history, and the beings, all without regard to the fact that it was being ignored. It was what it was, and for once in many centuries it was not counted as much. What a strange time to exist among the Sith. What a strange time to be a teacher, a teacher with only one student.

    When the decoration was revealed it had to suppress a welling sense of approval and mirth. For how many had it known that would gladly seen that one dead? How much a beautiful garden of rot and decay would she make! Oh how it enjoyed this, these were aspects of these Sith it could appreciate, although some of the lies being told were so bold as to make it's own seem mild and slight. How then were they so grand when they lied so brazenly? Time would tell, that was all Time could do, and all it could do was teach, listen, and record. Even perhaps learn. Now wouldn't that be interesting?

    Although it did note sadly that the Wookiee now held two medals, and none yet seemed to stand, bow, nod or acknowledge these beyond the superficial of the passing moment. It deserved more than that. If it could, it would of gone to those four and conveyed it's thanks with a deep embrace, a free sampling of knowledge. They had earned it, and yet it sat on a table, rested. Extending tendrils of it's mind it brushed the four with a simple invitation of a gift by drawing their eyes to where it rested on the table, glowing softly. It caressed the Wookiee twice, once with the same gentle giving offer, and again with a harsher promise of strength. Still, nothing froze in time, and the ebb and flow of wine and drink, of fungi and mold yet continued and soon it felt it would be drawn in yet another direction.

    TAG: Any, Honored Five
     
  11. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    OOC: Please excuse the ramblings of a drugged Chancellor :p

    IC: Aryan Graul
    Banquet Hall, Sith Temple

    It was always such a drag to suffer through these type of occasions. So mundane, so boring, so forced. And as usual, this particular celebration was all about pomp with little substance.

    Or…maybe it was the other way around.

    Did that even make sense?

    Aryan snorted at his own expense and reached shakily for his glass, noting that he seemed to be emptying its contents more rapidly than the servants were able to keep up with. Incompetent whelps. While he completely understood the importance of vintage – this one seemed to be some kind of exotic mixture that he couldn’t quite place the origins of – and how expensive it could be, that did not excuse the frugality of the staff. This was a celebration! All restrictions should be lifted! Surely, the Sith were more capable than that. They did know how to throw a party, right?

    Of course, the thought never crossed his mind that perhaps he was the one indulging in more than his fair share of the stuff. Such a preposterous idea.

    And so unbecoming of the newly named Chancellor. What would the Emperor think?

    Ah, hell, the Emperor…

    Again, the mere thought of the man sent a disquieting chill down Aryan’s spine as he tilted his head towards the Emperor at the head of the room. He had been standing up there for a while, now, his mouth flapping against the breeze as he imbued them with his own brand of gaiety. In fact, the drivel he was spewing seemed to be physically rolling off of him in waves, permeating the crowd in a poisonous cloud of yellow and orange. It blended with those sitting immediately around him, obscuring their features so that Aryan appeared to be alone in a sea of mindless drones. They were Insipid’s pawns, he knew, totally pliable and willing to bend and contort to the man’s every whim.

    If only he had taken advantage of the opportunity aboard the Wrath

    That was when the veil was unceremoniously torn from the centerpiece, the gesture shattering the illusion by forcing the poisonous cloud to retreat back into the recesses of the room.

    As it was, Aryan was in the middle of consuming his drink when he caught sight of the object now on clear display before them, swaying gently above the crowd as if it was openly inviting their criticism. He narrowed his eyes. Was that a…?

    A corpse.

    Without preamble, he started to sputter and cough on the contents of his glass as the shock of that realization settled in. He was surely a sight to behold with this sort of reaction, but at the moment, he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he idly wondered what could have possibly possessed the Sith to stoop to such levels of…savagery, particularly after they had seemingly won. Was this all part of the game; a cruel joke, perhaps? But as he regained his composure and lifted his bleary-eyed gaze to study the limp form hanging above them more closely, it all suddenly made sense.

    Marasiah Fel.

    The Empress was dead.

    Aryan simply blinked at the revelation and continued to stare at the vulnerable form of the former Empress, his expression seemingly devoid of all emotion. He wondered…what was it like to feel yourself slip away into eternity? What kind of anguish had she been forced to endure before ultimately meeting her Maker? In a way, he almost felt sorry for her as his eyes sought out her face, her once pretty countenance now permanently marred by the throes of death. It was almost…mesmerizing to study her features and to soak in all the nuances that once made her powerful.

    He envisioned her voice, the shape of her lips and the way they moved when she spoke; he reflected on the delicate look of her eyes, the shape of her nose and that stare…oh, how he hated that stare…

    Anger began to flare up inside of him at the memory, his senses now awash with raw emotion, no doubt being fueled by the powerful drug still coursing through his veins.

    Betrayal, regret…rejection

    But who had rejected whom?

    His memory was clouded regarding the precise details, but judging by his own indignation, he could only deduce that it had been her who had caused the most hardship. And for that, he found that he was actually…pleased with her fate; a poetic justice.

    And so, the laughter started deep within his throat and it gradually built into a crescendo. It was a maniacal sort of laughter, bordering on the nefarious. When he noted that he had most likely garnered the attention of the others, he spoke in a slow, clumsy manner, his words slurring together with the obvious effects of the substances in his body. “If…y’all hav’t done such a good job, I woulda done the deed myself.”

    Damn, did he really just say that out loud?

    He pursed his lips together and stared into space for a moment, seeming to contemplate the consequences.

    Ah, hell, what did it matter?

    With another scoff, he reached for his glass and downed the rest of its contents in a single swallow. Before the burn had eased from his throat, he ushered over another slave for a refill.

    TAG: Anyone at the banquet
     
  12. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC: Combo between Jwob, Lady Bellorum, Teafa and the inimitable holocron
    Banquet

    Bellorum had been silently observing the other celebrants, but internally she was concerned about what they would be facing over the coming days. She glanced over at her new apprentice, he was doing well considering that all his training so far had been on the run from one fight to the next. 'He does have that curious holocron though,' she thought. "Jwob, what did you do with that holocron," she asked him quietly.

    "This, yes. What can I say about the holocron?" Jwob looked closely at it. He smiled. "Second time tonight I've been asked about it, for one thing. It saved my life... twice. First time was right after you pushed me away from that gun emplacement. He gave me a spell for a shield. I was still in the blast radius, but was protected. The second time was during my encounter with Abeloth. He was my advocate and coach in here," Jwob pointed to his cranium, "where no one else could have been. Why do you ask?"

    "We can't be too careful with all that has happened in the last 48 hours," she replied. Her attention had been divided as she had noted an exchange between the Emperor and a new arrival, which now appeared to be his apprentice. Most of the attendees were either still staring at Empress Fel or enjoying the exquisite cuisine, and were unaware that the Emperor had taken this blind woman for his new apprentice. Bellorum was particularly interested that he had instructed this new arrival to retrieve the holocron.

    She drained the contents of the glass she'd been holding and continued, "let me see it," and she opened her palm to receive the holocron.

    "Yes, Master." He bowed slightly as he handed the holocron over. "By the way, he has expressed an interest in training more students. As I said, he has helped me immensely. I would vouch for him whole heartedly. If he helps all apprentices as much as he's helped me, he would be a great benefit to us." Jwob had placed the holocron in her palm, but hadn't let go, yet. He thought about how the holocron would feel about being passed off yet again. He finally released it.

    [Soliloquy felt itself being lifted and passed over, it was not what it had expected at this moment but it was not something to not expect eventually. This student he had chosen at the onset had not been a conventional one, partly by choice, and partly due to the fact that it did not have another choice at the time when the world was in danger of ending. Or rather it's world, it's life, and so in turn saying merely the world was not enough. It was the universe and existence itself. Perhaps that was melodramatic but it was a holocron of emotions, imbued with many minds and slivers of many souls, such lapses were so summarily forgiven by itselves. As it sat joining the hand of the Ithorian and this new dark woman it let the chill of it's presence spread to a frosty touch for both. It's lights in a rare act of possession slowly turned, the harsh purple turning across a couple facets to act almost as the center of an eye taking focus on the new holder. For in fact the Holocron was watching her, studying her, feeling her odd signatures in the Force, and for the moment it had nothing to add, hers would be the first voice.]

    Bellorum took the holocron slowly from Jwob, it was cold to the touch, and the deep purple shade it changed into was appealing to her. "Hmm, this little guy seems to be a bit of a chameleon," she smiled and looked from the holocron to Jwob. "Who are you? What can you teach me?"

    [Taking her words and her feel it was intrigued, but not enough to break it's own conditions for students. "You?" It softly hissed as a face formed of a gender neutral being, head wrapped in a turban, face crossed in an X with cloth, it's very voice denoted nothing of gender either. It merely was, no particular facet of its mind longed to talk with this one. "You have a holocron, Soa if I recognized his glint properly. I have nothing to teach you that it likely cannot. With nothing to teach whom I was or am or shall be mean little." with that the face stayed staring up. Waiting.]

    Jwob felt strange handing off the holocron this time. Naked? He wanted to take it back, but now was not the time. He shook it off. "Not the time or the place, Jwob." he chided himself.

    "Ah, you are well informed. Perhaps you and Soa should chat sometime," she chuckled. "I like you, and I think I know of a pupil deserving of your knowledge. Would you like to meet her?"

    [Raising an eye more open then the other it tilted it's head to the side and down. Indicating it's acceptance. This truly was an interesting woman and neither of her suggestions were undesirable to it, nay it in fact was deeply intrigued. Whether these notions or displays of acceptance were seen and accepted before it was pocketed.]

    He saw a woman coming toward him. What did she have over her eyes? In any case, he shifted to a professional mode as she approached. "Hello, there! I'm Jwob. This is my master Dark Lady Bellorum. How are you?"

    During this exchange, the Emperor's newly christened apprentice approached them. Jwob cheerfully greeted her, and boldly introduced Bellorum. The Dawn Herald put the hand holding Soliloquy into her pocket and turned to the woman, "Hello," she said coolly and picked up her glass that a slave had refilled.

    Having been so focused on simply finding the Ithorian, Teafa had failed to notice who was around him, and who he was speaking with. Chiding herself, and remaining slightly unsure how she had missed this particular being in the first place seeing as she was the Dawn Herald herself, Teafa reflexively bowed to her. "My apologies Lady Bellorum, if I am interrupting something I can come back later. I..." Here she shuffled her feet slightly, not wanting to be rude or ignore anyone. "I am very pleased to meet the both of you." Teafa tried to remain cheerful and confident, but feared that she was failing miserably. Looking over the woman who blazed like a dark star, she noticed how fit she was... and that she apparently had the holocron now in her pocket since there was none on Jwob. Even more interesting, she seemed to be carrying two of the devices. That would certainly complicate matters. She looked at them for a moment, curious as to how such an object could be imbued with the Force as it was, each glowed as well with they're own light. One was a neutral grey light, indicating that it was full of both kinds of knowledge? Did it change based on the person holding it? The researcher in her was immediately sparked to the point that she completely ignored the other one, which gave off a more expected darker shade of light, and she had to rein in her curiosity lest she do something extremely insulting to either of these two. Especially Lady Bellorum. At least she'd kept from moving her head to indicate what she was looking at.

    "Pleased to meet you too, did you need something," the Dawn Herald asked over the rim of her glass. Bellorum had definitely indulged in her share of drink, but was using the Force to keep it from making her intoxicated. This was a talent she'd mastered years ago because of her quick temper, heads always seemed to roll if she became tipsy.

    She pushed her oversized chair back from the table and stretched out her lithe legs, crossing the tall calfskin boots at her ankle. "Did you need Jwob to show you around?"

    Trying to decide how, exactly, to approach this was not the easiest thing for Teafa. Especially given how little time she had, and how all of what she had planned was now completely out of the window due to the involvement of another party, especially one such as the Dawn Herald. Realizing that there was no way she was going to be able to truly manipulate this situation, and not being terribly experienced in doing so anyway, she decided to be straightforward... with some slight embellishment. "My master, Lord Insipid, made mention of Jwob having a holocron. He thought that it might help me to survive the mission tomorrow, given that I'm to shadow him, and make sure nothing strikes him from behind while he's busy with... with dealing with the measures he has to take." She had the very distinct feeling that her master wasn't going to be particularly pleased that she had taken this tact, but ultimately if she was able to survive and actually be of some use that seemed like a good thing.

    It was probably somewhat obvious how overwhelmed she was with that idea, the idea of going into places that probably anyone else here would if not exactly fear to tread certainly dread. And her being such a new apprentice to the order, she doubted anyone else here even knew her name other than Lenora. "I would of course return it to Jwob, should the holocron wish it." She didn't know much about them, given that they weren't a tool that the Luka Sene used, but there were things that she did know. That they held personalities, sometimes many, and that they could refuse to teach someone that they didn't like or deem worthy. "And I would certainly owe a favor, should we all make it through this alive." How much a favor would be worth from a newly minted apprentice was questionable, but a favor that was even connected this tenuously to the Emperor of the Sith Empire provided perhaps a bit more weight.

    Jwob chuckled. A shy Sith. Well that will change. "First, miss, we haven't heard your name." Jwob then glanced at Lady Bellorum. Such a strange request she had made. But he was sure his Master would know the protocol.

    A look of confusion crossed Teafa's face as she tried to figure out what they meant. But I very clearly said my name. What else do they want? There was an awkward silence for several seconds while she scrambled for something to say. "But... I... I don't have any other name than Teafa." What did they want from her? Some sort of title? She certainly hadn't been here long enough for something like that. "I've only been here for half a day, so I haven't been given anything else." She looked down for a second. "Or even told about anything else."

    "OK, Teafa. Welcome. What is the purpose of a party if not to meet others. It is good to meet y-"

    "Hmm, interesting I'm sure," she looked directly at Jwob, "do you have a holocron in your current possession," she asked him pointedly.

    Jwob smiled. So interesting the relationship among this Triumvirate. "No. No, ma'am, I do not."

    "Yes, I didn't think so," Bellorum smiled, "thank you, Jwob. Now I really must speak to Kwea."

    Bellorum smiled at Teafa as she stood and walked away, hand still in the pocket and clutching Soliloquy. 'I want you to meet Kwea, she was quite the hero defeating a traitor during the recent failed invasion.' She approached Kwea from behind and took her hand, placing the holocron into it while blocking the view of anyone watching. "Give this up to no one and you will report directly to me what it teaches you," she whispered to Kwea. "Meet me at my shuttle first thing in the morning, and bring our friend," she nodded towards Kwea's hand. "You are in Shadow Squadron with me," the Dawn Herald then smiled and acknowledged a High Lord nearby as she walked away.

    TAG: Halle Dray, Lady Belligerent, Mitth_Fisto, A Blind Prophet
     
  13. Dark_Lady_Rae

    Dark_Lady_Rae Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 30, 2016
    IC: Darth Deathy
    Banquet

    Deathy spent the whole walk to the dinner table swishing the wide skirt of her dress back and forth. She loved wearing dresses and feeling pretty! She liked the “jelly” color the most. It nearly matched her eyes! She couldn’t wait to show Kwea and her Master! Maybe she’d spin around to show off the dress and-

    “Wow,” she gasped once she reached the hall. “The table is soo huge!" The smile became a pout when she spotted her Master sitting on the other side. It would take her hours to walk over to him! By then, the "Nana" droid caught up to her. The walk didn’t take hours, but Deathy’s legs were tired by the time she reached her seat. She jumped to climb into the chair.

    “Hi, Mashter!” Deathy waved to Harestisch, and then pointed down at her feet. “Look, we match!” Her new black boots were barely hidden by the tablecloth. The giant table filled up with people and the food was brought out. Deathy might have dozed off right there but a loud sound jolted her awake again. A lightsaber?

    She quickly looked around and saw the lightsaber in another Sith’s hands. He sat at the head of the table. Darth Isid? Darth... Insidip? No, that was definitely wrong. She could at least say “Emperor”!

    Deathy leaned her chin against the table through the long and boring speech. She couldn’t get the name. She’d just have to ask when he was done talking! Some weird thing hanging from a rope was wheeled in before he was done. Maybe it was a covered birdcage? She lifted her head as the cloth was tugged free and a woman’s body was revealed.

    Was she okay up there? Was she stuck? Why was she tied to the ceiling anyway? Did she do something bad?

    After at least a minute, Deathy saw the woman hadn’t moved an inch. She slowly reached for her Master’s sleeve and tugged. “Hey, Mashter?” she asked, pointing upward, “Is that lady up there okay? I don’t think she can get down.” It didn’t seem fair being stuck above the smells of good food! She might be hungry too! Deathy raised her hand and glared at the rope. It quickly began to splinter and snap. Moments later the woman’s corpse was falling. She landed with a heavy thud against the table. An arm hit the edge of a bowl of soup and sent the soup flying everywhere.

    “Oops,”Deathy giggled and slowly lifted the woman up and out of the soup with the Force. The body moved closer, and Deathy hopped out of her chair to let the woman sit. With her this close, she noticed that her skin was nearly white. She climbed back up and brushed some hair out of her face. “You do not look okay!” she said sadly, looking into her swollen face, “You can have some snackie if you’re hungry!” As soon as she finished talking the woman fell forward and her face splashed right into Deathy’s bowl. Soup soaked her hair and got onto Deathy’s dress. “Not like that!” she laughed, tugging at the back of her dress, “That’s too messy!”

    Deathy pulled the woman up, and saw her face was covered in icky soup. Icky tasty soup, though! Grinning fiendishly, she licked the soup off the weird woman's face. She made a face and spat several times. "Ew, you do not taste very good!"

    Tag: Empress Fel, Emperor Insipid, Darth Haretisch
     
  14. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Ravenous (WookieeRage), Darth Kwea (Halle Dray)
    Combo
    The Celebration in the Great Hall...


    Ravenous felt the weight of the Medal draped around his neck, more of a burden than an honor. After the group was done with their time on stage they made their way to their seats for dinner. The Wookiee used this time to study the other Sith Members more closely. He saw many of the Underlords present and the empty seats in memoriam of the fallen. He arrived at his spot at the table, pleasantly laid out with crimson doilies. He wondered what he would be eating, as his diet, he was sure, would be much different than the others here. He truly did feel like an outsider. He patted the pouch where Hades Medal resided and gained some comfort. He pulled the small chair from under the table and took a seat. The chair crumbled under his massive frame and he now laid on his back, staring at the ceiling behind his yellow, embarrassed eyes.

    Kwea went to take her place by the Wookiee at the table and stepped away just in time to avoid getting trampled as the poor creature's chair broke under his huge frame. Kwea saw a look of embarrassment in his eyes and she figured she should probably help him up. She whispered to a nearby slave to bring a suitable chair for a person this size and then offered him her silk gloved hand to help him up. This Wookiee was a freshly minted Underlord. One could say he took her place as she had ascended to the rank of Lord. Perhaps he'd be one to strike up a conversation with.

    Ravenous didn't take her hand as he grudgingly took to his feet again. He howled to the Woman who offered him a hand up, not knowing if she could understand him,

    "Sorry, I didn't want to get my fur on your silk gloves, my people's fur is very clingy and coarse...Thank you, Mi'Lady."

    Ravenous felt the power within this Woman and offered a low bow. Two slaves arrived with a larger chair, carrying both sides. It was a heavy chair made from a rare looking black wood. The Wookiee held his bow until the Sith Lord acknowledged.

    "That's quite considerate of you," Kwea said as he bowed to her, offering explanation for not taking her hand. Most of what she understood was aided by the Force but she had studied Wookiees very thouroghly at the Jedi Temple as well as here. The slaves then brought a rather fine looking chair in. "You may rise, Underlord. I'm not one for formalities. By the way, I'm Kwea Acantha." Kwea gracefully sat down at her place and motioned for him to do the same.

    Ravenous rose from his bow and sat, putting the debacle behind him and the true reason he didn't accept the offer of her hand. He truly doesn't trust any of these beings, but he'll put on a show for the time being. He scooched in further with little effort as the massive chair, no; Cathedra, made an audible screech across the immaculate floor of the dining hall. The Wookiee awkwardly looked both to his left and right down the long table before continuing to Kwea,
    "So.. Lady Kwea... I can sense your power, are you of the High Council?"

    Ravenous howled as he picked up an Hors d'oeuvre and sniffed it inquisitively before tossing back onto its' golden plate.

    Kwea winced as a loud screech went through the roar of the banquet room from the Wookiee's chair. Kwea could feel his tenseness and distrust emitting from his very core. "Unfortunately not yet. Someday perhaps," Kwea answered his question with a sly twinkle in her eye. She wasn't exactly thinking about getting onto the Council but it probably wouldn't hurt to try sometime.. The Wookiee grabbed a hors d'oeuvre, sniffed it, and threw it back. Kwea reached for the goblet next to her plate and took a sip. Ah. The red wine was quite good. Aged to perfection. "Tell me Wookiee, what is your name? I don't think we ever met before this save for a passing glimpse."

    Ravenous took a swig from the flask he had pocketed from one of the servers when he arrived at the table. It was a warm Corellian Brandy that warmed his insides. Knowing now that he wasn't dealing with one of the High Council Members his demeanor relaxed as he trilled a subtle howl,

    "My name.... Is Darth Ravenous, anointed by my Master, Darth Hades..."

    His answer was very blunt and ended there. There was no luster, no great tale of ascension from this lowly Dark Side Marauder. He had replaced one curse with another when he joined this Empire. His intentions were hidden behind the stale words he howled,

    "Unless you were looking for something else, MiLady?" His legs stretched out under the table, hitting another pupil with his hairy legs, to which they shifted quickly in their seat and struck Ravenous with an awkward stare. He met their stare with his own.

    Darth Ravenous. "Nope, never heard of you! Anyway, it's nice to meet you." Kwea was a little unsure of what to ask him. This guy obviously wasn't one for talking. Quickly searching for a question, Kwea said, "What lightsaber form do you use?" She immediately felt stupid but she didn't want to seem rude or be left eating her food and being lonely.

    The Wookiee prodded the food upon the table and responded to Kwea's inquiry with an excited howl,

    "What form do I use? There is not a form that I don't utilize. I am trained in all forms of Lightsaber combat." He scooched again in his seat with excitement and collided his hefty chair with another to his left, pinching their fingers between the two. Ravenous looked down and howled 'sorry' to them, if they even knew Shyriiwook. Otherwise, it probably sounded intimidating. The Wookiee looked towards the hanging body displayed in front of them, then back to his plate in front of him with disappointment as his stomach rumbled. He much rather preferred the taste of flesh over this fancy spread in front of him. As he continued to poke his plated food in front of him he gurgled a howl; long and drawn,

    "What of you, Kwea? What do you know of the Dark Arts? Any secret lessons to share?" He looked up and grinned nefariously, always wanting more.

    Kwea was impressed that Ravenous used all the forms of lightsaber combat. She had only learned two.

    The person sitting next to him got their fingers squished as he moved his chair and Kwea had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

    Taking another sip of wine Kwea answered his question, "I fight with the Makashi and Shien forms. Now as for secrets, those I cannot reveal. I can tell you I know Dark Side Healing, Inspire, and Force Rage as some of my acquired specialties."

    Kwea could tell he wanted her secrets and honestly she didn't have any to share. She ate a few bites of the meat that was on her plate before asking another question.

    "Have you been here long? Perhaps you were busy with another mission so I didn't ever see you? My master, the Night Herald, took us, down to the Catacombs with Lady Arach," she said nodding at Lord Haretisch. "That was when Octavius was Lord Haretisch's apprentice as well," she added assuming he knew of Octavius' fate.

    "I was born here...." Ravenous lied... Well, somewhat lied as most of the apprentices and Lords were also born into the Darkness of Moraband, discarding their former selves after accepting the ways of the Sith.

    "I don't know anyone, I don't even know who the Triumvirate are... I assume they're the ones that are taking center stage by that carcass deliciously hanging there... They don't look all that powerful, why hasn't someone usurped them yet? Isn't that the way of the Sith?"

    Ravenous howled as he studied the three headmasters. He picked up some seared Kaadu tail and inserted it into his mouth before tasting and spitting it out onto the floor.

    Kwea immediately sensed a lie brewing in Ravenous. He next howled to her about the Triumvirate.

    "Believe me. They are quite powerful. If anyone usurps them, they'll need to be strong and powerful and perhaps no one has reached that point yet."

    Ravenous spit his food out and Kwea clenched her jaw. Obviously he had no respect for the other Sith and he didn't even think he could tell her the truth about how kind he'd been at the Temple. Finishing what was on her plate, Kwea motioned to another servant to refill her wine goblet and bring her some dessert.

    "Did you enjoy your apprenticeship?" she asked the Wookiee trying to keep the small talk going.

    Ravenous turned his head abruptly to Kwea; trying to hide the anger. Surely she had known his Master had died, and long before he could teach him his darkest kept secrets. He had not been able to properly be brought forth to this... Triumvirate so that they may evaluate him. He did not know if this Woman was mocking him or truly didn't know.

    "My apprenticeship was great..." Ravenous' response trailed off and Kwea realized he had said Darth Hades had been his master. Whoops.

    "I apologize for being so intrusive. I didn't realize Lord Hades had died. I've been busy babysitting lord Haretisch's new apprentice and I wasn't able to catch up on the news."

    Kwea was a bit embarrassed and upset that Deathy had kept her from the news.

    Ravenous had enough of these faked pleasantries, there wasn't even a dish he would have eaten that laid in front of him. These people don't know him. The Wookiee promptly scooched back from the table, accidentally knocking a server down that was walking down the aisle behind him.

    He half-bowed Darth Kwea and howled a farewell before walking out of the great hall.

    "It seems I have come down with illness. Forgive me for the rudeness, but I must use the refresher."

    He was lying... once again.

    She rose as he left and grimaced at his next lie but could feel how uncomfortable he was at the banquet. Oh well, he perhaps would avoid the next one.

    Darth Bellorum came up to her from behind and slipped something into her hand. Kwea turned gracefully to face her. "Give this up to no one and you will report directly to me what it teaches you," Kwea was told. "Meet me at my shuttle first thing in the morning, and bring our friend. You are in Shadow Squadron with me," and with that, the Dawn Herald left.

    Kwea discreetly slipped the object, still unsure of what it was, into her clutch with her saber. She decided to stay at the feast a little while longer before retiring.
    Tag:Lady Belligerent, Mitth_Fisto, Halle Dray
     
  15. Darth Kronos

    Darth Kronos Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jan 2, 2016
    IC: Darth Kronos

    -Combo with... no one.

    -Shut up, I'm not lonely.

    -Stranger Things is pretty cool, if I do say so myself.

    -Enjoy reading my post, as I desperately try to come up with something for Kronos to do.
    ______________________________________________________________________________________

    The feast had now, officially, begun. A wide range of individuals had attended, from Insipid to the lowliest of the low - though they were probably chained up in the kitchens, making their food and drinks.

    He had to glance in all directions to notice all of the diversity around him. There was the obvious, Haretisch, Bellorum, Jwob (who was holding the Holocron), and the Lorekeeper. But, then there were the ones unknown, or at least the ones he had seen before, to him - and given his social status in the Temple, there was a lot to cover. There was the more noticeable, like a giant Wookiee, one taller than even him, the weird Sith woman from Hoth (he never bothered to ask her for her name. Honestly, he couldn't care less), there was a newly appointed High Lord (one he had never payed any attention to, but given her promotion, he expected he'd have to at some point), the young Sith Lady, Kwea, noticeably without her companion Octavius. There was a Senator, who was looking tipsy, probably on drugs, or something. There was even some kid wandering around, at Haretisch's side, most likely around 7 or 8 years.

    Okay....

    More noteworthy, however, was the presence of the Light nearby - a Jedi, sitting next to the mysterious Sith woman, conversing about something. He spared him a glance, something he was probably used to. But, he suspected, that if he wasn't already dead, then there was a reason for him being there. Doing something stupid was not on the top of his priority list. So, he had just left it at that: one quick glance. The Jedi might not have even noticed it, anyway.

    There were some absents, too, most noteworthy were Octavius and Kralkus. Octavius, he still didn't know the fate of, and he assumed he died after the Battle of Moraband. Though, there was a flaw in that theory. Every single other Sith who died during the battle had their name plastered on some kind of memoriam for the fallen - except him. What could he have done that exempted him from the honor? Most peculiar.

    Kralkus, on the other hand, was a different story. Word had gotten around from the Triumvirate, and other members, that he was "unfortunately" gunned down during the battle. Any other time, he probably would have given the little guy a nod of respect, or approval. But, after Hoth, the most he'd be getting from him was a mental 'Good riddance'. Even if he led him on his first mission as an Apprentice, what he did on Hoth was low, even for a Sith.

    He sat down at one on the tables, mentally secluding himself from everyone except his one companion. On the table, there were multiple refreshments lain out. Alcohol, water, milk - for some reason. Alcohol, out of the question, not when you were as paranoid as he was. Water, doesn't really do much to give you more energy, in his experience.

    Milk it was.

    He grabbed the glass closest to him, and gulped it down.

    There was a look of barely hidden distaste on his face.

    He silently thought to himself: 'Salty'.

    He placed the glass down, sliding it across the table far from him. A slave clearly made that one. He began to concentrate, eyes closed, and head pointed down. Somewhere inside the Temple's kitchen, a slave's neck was just snapped. And he didn't even know if it was the one who made the milk.

    There was still some anger left from his Abeloth vision he needed to let loose.

    The ceremony began. He had only payed attention, and gathered the basics: that their mission was not over, they needed to strike the "Left Handed God" Typhojem, split apart into three strike teams - the Hell, Blade, and Shadow squads.

    An Empress was hanged. An image deeply satisfying for many, erotic for the psychos, and another normal day for Kronos.

    Once the ceremony and speeches were over, he returned to his secluded state of mind, only willing to talk to a few people.

    Although, he wouldn't have control over who came up to him, now would he?

    TAG: No one. Or, perhaps everyone.

    I don't know.
     
  16. Darth_Elu

    Darth_Elu Chosen One star 7

    Registered:
    Jan 2, 2003
    Darth Invidius IC:
    ~Banquet Hall, Sith Temple, Moraband~

    Standing with his master, Invidius could only glance around him at all the curious people in the Hall. Their appearances were truly diverse and ranged from the pleasant to the banal to the downright ugly, he'd just keep quiet on whom he thought was what. Of more intriguing notice to him was how everyone felt in the Force, a veritable sea of darkness….and a lone speck of light floating offensively before them all.

    That must be one of the Jedi. Why would the Sith allow him to be there when his allegiance was quite abundantly clear to anyone who looked. His clothing and stature was enough, you didn't even need to use the Force to tell that!

    He was tempted to go over there and investigate a bit more closely or at the very least question Lord Manticore about it, when a trumpet blared out. The sound was highly annoying. However, it was a cue to sit evidently as that was what all were doing. Manticore was swift in taking his chosen place and thankfully he motioned to where he himself should sit.

    Eyeing the chair dubiously, he sat down in an awkward angle so his tail would not interfere with the backing of the damnable thing. There was a small space in the back, but it wasn't large enough to fit himself through and plus, if he had to act fast for some reason; Invidius much rathered not to have to worry about getting stuck in the process of standing up. A small, quiet, growl of annoyance presented itself before he went silent.

    Then the Emperor arrived. Darth Insipid. His power was clear in the Force and something Invidius respected, so he stood when requested to and watched him all the way to his own place of power. Soon enough he had taken a large goblet, had a drink, and announced they could all sit again.

    His lip curled briefly at the thought of rearranging his tail's placement again, but did so. At the announcement he then noticed the slaves coming in and prepping the Hall while attention was shifted to a stage for one last ceremony before the feast.

    This is all utterly pointless.

    That was, of course, not true and he knew it. There were reasons behind everything, that came from his political training. It was just not something that was situated within his preferences.

    In any event, upon that stage was a human man. Tallish…for a human. Just about a full foot shorter than himself with mid-length dark brown hair and a scar noticeable from his right ear to his left eye, which was intriguing by itself. He was powerful. But nothing compared to his master from what he could feel. Still, perhaps it was time to start picking out those he should know.

    Next to him was another human though a woman. She didn't seem like anything special to him.

    Lastly was a wookiee with dark brown fur and a robotic hand of some sort, which was an interesting combination to see. His height was a few inches taller than his own, which made him almost glad there was another person of comparable height around here other than Cocytus.

    A brief medal ceremony commenced, making him almost wonder where his own was. He did take over an entire Star Destroyer by himself. Ok, the kaminoan helped. His eyes narrowed, but he restrained himself from further comment. Instead he allowed himself to idly wonder what these three Sith could have done to earn such a show of recognition.

    In either case it was time to eat and drink at last and the ssi-ruu gladly took some water for the time being, not trusting any of the other drinks. It was all too easy for him to find something that would be a rather bad mix for his biology in a number of ways, seeing as nobody made things for his species other than, well, his species. The Imperium didn't have a lovely relationship with the rest of the galaxy after all.

    Nevertheless, he did partake of the meat happily, trying everything carefully but then devouring quickly once he realized it was safe. While he ate however, his eyes never left the room. He watched all, especially that Jedi. Who was foe, who was not. Who was meaningless. Things to know.

    Within a few minutes a veiled structure was then wheeled into the hall, which caught his attention like everyone else. What else did these Sith do for celebrations and was it necessary?

    Already nearing his fill of food, Invidius found himself craving physical training and conditioning…but that had to wait. His master had said as much. There was also that one task given to him.

    Snap-hiss.

    His head jerked toward the sound immediately, his gaze having been toward the others, but calmed when he saw the Emperor standing once more and already deactivating the weapon.

    A speech?

    How curious. Hopefully it would contain useful information at the least. Though at the beginning it was merely rehashing the previous battle once again. He tired of that, but there was nothing he could do.

    The Emperor made to reveal what was underneath the veil then teasingly stopped to talk more. Whatever was under there was clearly something potent, it was being built up for the maximum impact. This Insipid had his attention.

    He spoke of Mortis and the Ones. Something he still didn't understand well, but now knew due to the sharing of information through the Force at the end of the battle. Abeloth

    He had her name. Its name. His fangs gleamed once in a feral grin. A hunter had finally gleamed its target. But, he'd simply file that away for another time and continued listening.

    There. A plan was now given to attack this Mortis. Hell, Blade, or Shadow Squadrons. All three of the names were delicious sounding, so he didn't mind where he ended up. The saurian glanced at Manticore briefly, thoughtfully debating on whether or not he'd be paired with his master.

    Then came the piece de resistance. The veil came down and silence fell upon the room like a gentle mist rolling into a valley from the mountains. This woman…was clearly important. A formerly powerful enemy he was certain, but otherwise he had no idea as to her identity. And since she was dead:

    She doesn't matter anymore.

    He looked away with a shrug and sipped his water, gazing fiercely at a slave trying to give him peppers and an alcoholic beverage of some sort while stammering out some kind of rules for a game.

    "Go away," he snarled. The slave complied rather hastily, it was near impressive.

    Then came the true reactions just as soon as he finished with the slave. He looked and watched intently. A woman stood up rather quickly, the deep roiling emotions of revulsion and bewilderment crashing amidst her aura at that moment. In a hurry she left the Hall apparently powerfully struck by the ornament. Another woman followed after her.

    "She is weak," muttered Invidius though he stood as well. It had nothing to do with the decoration. His tail was getting mad at him for its uncomfortable position and thus he swished it a couple of times in agitation.

    Then there was another man, who didn't feel Jedi or Sith-like at all. Nor looked it. But he was…laughing. Hysterically. Clearly there was something off about him or perhaps he was simply crazy, it was too hard to say with all of these strangers. Still, he felt compelled to try to make something of this being.

    "If…y'all hav't done such a good job, I woulda done the deed myself."

    Intoxicated. Confirmed now. Still, alcohol had the nice effect of dragging out truthisms amongst the outrageous and this felt like the former. Would have done the deed himself yet not a Sith? Who was he?

    Then came a truly astonishing sight. The morbid decoration began to move by itself! Well, of course not, it was being manipulated by the Force but he hadn't anticipated it at first. His eyes followed its trajectory and saw it moving toward…

    A little girl. And she very clearly had no idea what was going on as she began to desecrate the thing as if it was an oversized plaything. By all the thorns of Lwhekk, she even licked the corpse. Someone had no idea how to raise a child. For some reason, Invidius couldn't tell whether he wanted to scoff or laugh at the scene he was witnessing. Amidst it all, he noticed the first woman being dragged back into the Hall.

    His head turned to his master, Manticore. "We have an…eclectic group, my master."

    Invidius said nothing else, but inclined his head and turned away to indicate he was ready to begin his previously given task. But to whom would be the first prey of the evening? Now that was a worthy question while he decided to ignore the insanity of those around him.

    His eyes, full of a strange kind of bloodthirsty desire, roved the room as he padded heavily along the ground. Who….who would be the first…

    A smile, fangs gleaming, eyes narrowing in on a singular individual. A predatory surge in the Force before suddenly the emotion simply vanished as if it had never existed.

    There. You're my prey tonight.

    Using the slaves and Sith who were moving about to stretch and talk amongst themselves as initial cover, it was easy to forget even one such as visually obvious as himself in this setting. There was too much to focus on and none suspected him of anything at all. Invidius took a roundabout path, so as to make sure to lose any gazes from them as if he was leaving. To hide in plain sight.

    As he discerned their focus was off, having no reason to be raised in the first place, he quickly angled in their direction and began to diminish his presence in the Force. Not too much, just enough to get lost in the cacophony of emotions and sensations.

    When he appeared suddenly behind them, it would be as if a monster had just pounced and his thirst to kill evident. As they turned; they would see claws, fangs, and one hand not on but dangerously near his vibroblade, the Force coiled like an eager snake itself around him.

    And this poor soul, this prey was…


    Tag: Well, we'll just have to see won't we.
     
  17. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Darth Haretisch -- Moraband, Great Hall

    Haretisch was staring down at the glass Bellorum had placed in front of him when he heard Deathy speak up.

    "Hi, mashter!"

    He downed the shot.

    "You made it here," he observed neutrally. He wasn't sure he was glad of it.

    "Look, we match!" she beamed, pointing to the polished black Rancor leather boots on her feet. He'd commissioned them for Kralkus as a rare gesture of appreciation after Hoth - they'd never reached him for obvious reasons. This seemed appropriate.

    "Keep them nice and shiny," he said firmly, and ruffled her hair. "Or make sure the servants do."

    And so the festivities went on. Insipid announced the final stand to take place on Mortis, and unveiled the body of the Empress. At the moment of the reveal, the Night Herald of course was looking to Graul to gauge the man's reaction to Fel's demise. Of course he hadn't considered that there might have been no love lost between the two, but he gave little thought to the smaller details of galactic politics. That was Insipid's bag, and Bellorum's to a degree - where as far as Haretisch was concerned the only sides of any conflict he cared much about were "Sith" and "not Sith."

    Something was odd about Graul, though. The man wasn't simply drunk. He almost seemed... Well, the rules of the drinking game made much more sense now. Bellorum had drugged him.

    "If y'all hadn't done such a good job... I woulda done the deed myself," the chancellor slurred, and Haretisch suppressed a laugh before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

    "Hey, Mashter?"

    He found a glass and downed its contents. It wasn't his. He didn't care.

    "Is that lady up there okay? I don't think she can get down."

    "No, she's d-" he looked down mid-sentence to see his apprentice extending a hand, and he feared the worst.

    Then the rope snapped, and the corpse landed stiffly on the table, catapulting a bowl of soup into the air as it did so. He watched with a combination of amusement and horror as the child half-delicately positioned the body in a chair as though it were still a living person. Things only got worse when she apparently tried to feed her. That ended, of course, with the Empress face-down in a soup bowl.

    Then Deathy pulled her up and started licking the soup from her face.

    He grabbed another glass and downed it.

    "I think it's time for bed, Deathy," he explained, and called for the nanny droid. When it came, he grabbed a metallic arm and pulled the droid in close. "Can you get her the kark out of here?" It wasn't a request.

    The droid beeped an affirmative response and stirred as he released his grip.

    "It's bedtime, apprentice," he said, catching Deathy beneath the arms and hoisting her off of the table. After he'd deposited her gently on the floor, he leaned down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You have a big day tomorrow with the Dawn Herald, so go get washed up and get to sleep as fast as you can."

    As she was led away, he looked across the table to Bellorum, who had just returned to her seat. "She's a handful, isn't she?" he grinned.

    TAG: Lady Belligerent
     
  18. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Darth Manticore
    Banquet Hall, Sith Temple

    The zabrak sat, ignoring the filled goblet and plate of food before him. His present appetite was not one which concerned the body. What he craved now was information and understanding.

    Lord Manticore’s fiery eyes took in all that was displayed before him, while his mind vetted the many mysteries presented. Tomorrow, the Sith would fall on Mortis, a place solely found in stories and fables-until now. It would do good to refresh one's knowledge on the topic.

    The main objective would be to end the threat of the Pantheon and the Left Handed One, but there would be so much more there, so much more.

    The Stygian Executor resolved to ponder deeper on the matter a bit...later, and focus more on the festivities.

    'Social occasions are warfare concealed'. The old adage came to mind just then, as his eyes fell once again on the newly minted ‘Chancellor’. The man’s drunken reaction upon seeing the hanging form of Empress Marasiah Fel caused disgust to well-up inside the Battlelord. Manticore spat on the floor in disgust, and ignored the slave who immediately came over to clean it.

    ‘Done the deed himself?’

    Manticore’s upper lip curled in a snarl for just a brief moment. The man was an opportunistic snake, deserving of a quick death. He did wonder if Lady Hesper would be the one to dispose of him. But, as long as the 'Chancellor' remained a useful tool to Emperor Insipid, he would live.

    Which begged the question of the Jedi.

    It was curious to see a jedi present and so very composed. Manticore noted his ‘lack’ of reaction after the unveiling. The jedi also demonstrated good control over his emotions, even after being teased by the beautiful Lady Syren. Briefly, he wondered if the Jedi was a capable combatant with the force or lightsaber, but that was just a passing curiosity. Another more interesting thought came to mind. Perhaps the jedi could pass on a message to the Guardian of the Jewel. He and the Imperial Knight had ‘unfinished’ business.

    A gloved hand gestured, and immediately a servant came over. The Sith Lord bid the servant to lean in. Manticore sensed the servant’s spiking fear, and ignored it. He had no interest in killing randomly, that was Emperor Insipid’s amusement. Manticore whispered a message and instructed the servant to deliver it to the Jedi. He would watch to see it delivered and raise his goblet to the jedi should he look over, as a way to identify himself.

    ‘I have something that might interest you’ was the message sent. Whether or not the jedi would agree to meet was yet to be seen.

    A 'peon' grew ‘ill’ upon seeing the hanging Empress.

    “She is weak.” He heard Invidius mutter. Good. His apprentice was paying attention to the tapestry that unfurled before them. Manticore was prepared to answer any question his apprentice might have, for such was his role now. He’d have to catch up his apprentice on what knowledge they had on Mortis as well. The less surprises they ran into, the better.

    And speaking of apprentices…that little girl?

    Manticore raised a dark eyebrow inside his hood.

    The zabrak and Ssi-ruuk shared a look. “We have an…eclectic group, my master.” Invidius commented, almost casually. Manticore simply nodded in response. There was nothing else to be said on the matter. Variety was the spice of the galaxy entire, for better or for worse.

    There was a momentary flash, a familiar predatory surge that was all too familiar to the Battlelord. It was brief, but he knew the source. Invidius.

    Manticore did not react to it. He was already familiar with the ssi-ruuk’s hunting habits, so he was unconcerned. Manticore was confident that Invidius was competent enough to differentiate between who was game and who was not.

    Ah, so the little girl was a ward of Triumvir Heratisch or Triumvir Bellorum. Curious, most curious indeed.

    Incidentally, his gaze fell on the lone form of Darth Kronos. That one was volatile and interesting. Dark and unpredictable.

    There was also no sign of Darth Titus, who seemed to be merely absent or very late. That, or he was still recovering inside a bacta-tank. His wounds during the past few battles had been grievous.

    Manticore also wished to congratulate Darth Ravenous, but the wookiee was engaged in conversation. There would be time enough for pleasantries afterwards.

    For now, his eyes wondered to another pair of empty seats. There were only questions regarding these two unexpected absentees. Manticore’s eyes narrowed momentarily, as he mentally reviewed what he already knew, and what he could've possibly missed, in order to lift the fog of mystery. There was that, thoughts of their upcoming campaign on Mortis, and the end of one Antares Draco.


    Tag: @Sinrebirth, @ConservativeJedi321 ,( Revelers )
     
  19. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Ravenous
    Halls, Temple...

    As he exited the threshold of the Banquet there was an encumbering fog instantly lifted off Ravenous' shoulders. He would have the same feeling from any large gathering of people, but never had he felt so many tumultuous auras in one place at one time, it was almost too much for him. The Wookiee always had a talent with his Force sense and feeling his surroundings, it was augmented by his natural hunting skills, but it was also a curse. Ravenous continued down a long corridor, drinking heavily, endlessly searching for the bottom of his large flask. He stumbled a couple of times, catching himself on the stony walls of the hall before leaning against it holding his forehead. Servants passed stoically as they avoided eye contact with the beast until the halls became void of life. A ringing in his ears intensified until a whispering voice was discernible, the echoes leading him down another hall,

    "Miiiinnnnne..."

    As he leaned against the stone wall, he took his flask once again, swallowing the remnants of the poison that filled it. He angrily threw it to the side, the clanking from the flask against stone filling the empty hall around him. While still grasping the wall to guide him, he arrived to an empty kitchen, the wash still dripping water. An eerie silence filled the air.

    Ravenous stumbled to the liquor cabinet above the server station that housed some of the finer spirits the Sith had in possession. Behind the normal Brandy's and Wine lay a dusty bottle, its' label revealed it to be a 2,000 year old Scotch Whiskey. The Wookiee grasped it, smashing the closer bottles onto the freshly mopped Durasteel floor. When that noise settled, the familiar whisper made itself apparent once more,

    "Miiiiiinnnnnneeeeee..."

    The Wookiee looked around to nothing once again, this time popping the cork and swallowing a good amount of the Scotch. There had been a time that this booze would fill him with feelings that were happy, but all this did was sink him into an even more feeble stupor. The tincture proved strong as he stumbled out into the adjacent hall, landing face down onto the immaculate hall floor. Through his wavering vision he could see a slithering apparition, its' tendrils laced the walls of this hallway. His vision would not remain level as he lost the apparition to the darkness far down the hall. The voice louder this time; filling his voided spirit,

    "Mine..."

    He trudged along one foot clumsily in front of the other, much faster than before trying to catch up with the apparition, a sense of urgency now. He would follow this familiar voice to its' source before he would quit. He was there now, one last hall, a shiny door, cold as ice, between himself and whatever lay behind it. Shambling to the door as the stone of the buzz climaxed, he reached with his left hand outstretched activating the airlock. He fell through revealing a bright white light, opposite of the dimly lit corridors of the Temple. He sheltered his eyes from the light and looked to a metallic stretcher that lay before him. Through the gaps in his fingers he would see his Master, Hades lying lifeless upon the table. Behind him was the slithering apparition... Abeloth; she was not corporeal, she was a dream, a vision, a guide for what needed to be done. To his respective left and right lay two other bodies, one a small green alien; his ears were pointy and long. The other, a young man, brown, medium length hair and his head looked as if it had been detached from its' neck. Three voices in unison roared in the white room; This.. Morgue, two from each of the bodies and one from the apparition...

    "MINE!"

    As quick as it came, the two bodies returned to their lifeless states and the apparition vanished, leaving just Ravenous and his Master, he had grown...So hungry... The Wookiee lumbered to the end of the table before collapsing face first on his knees, holding on to the stretcher. He righted himself, stood straight up and brought the Scotch back to his furry lips before draining the remaining booze from the bottle. He smashed it upon the head of the young man's body that lay to his right before he bellowed a roar that filled the entire temple,

    "No you kriffing witch!.... MINE!"

    Ravenous grasped the throat of Hades' lifeless body and brought his other hand over the Hades' eyes, digging two fingers into each of the eye sockets. There was a squishing before he began to separate the top of the head from the bottom; the nose was the dividing line. A disgusting, audible pop was made as the parts separated, leaving a bloody trail as he dropped the top of the head to the ground below, revealing the grey matter of his brain. At this point, Ravenous lips quivered momentarily before indulging in the brain of his Master, gorging himself in the knowledge source of the dead Zabrak. The Wookiee knew he wouldn't gain his power, but that didn't make the flesh taste any less divine.

    The Wookiee roared once again before emerging from the Morgue's bright room; his shadow enveloping the light emanating from the threshold. His jowls and cloak bloody from the carnage that took place. He walked out once again into the dimly lit corridor before turning back from which he came, the Great Hall....

    Tag: Anyone able to read through the whole post without getting sick feelings...
     
  20. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    Post with Jwob Sebb and Triumvir Haretisch
    Banquet Hall

    Jwob was looked around at all the Sith that had been reveling. Feeling all the power around here was intoxicating to say the least. He was about to go over to the Wookiee. He'd never met one of his species before and really wanted to. Just then the Wookiee left the room. Oh, well, maybe another time.

    He turned to see the body of the Emperess fall and dropped his drink. Incredible! That little one had some power! He called a slave over with another drink. As she was being escorted from the room, he looked up into the eyes of Darth Haretisch. He'd heard about him from Master Bellorum once or twice. He moved over to introduce himself. "Master Haretisch, I presume. I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Jwob. I knew my master before coming here and she spoke very highly of you. How are you, sir?"

    Master Haretisch. The Night Herald might have bristled at such address if he were one for such reactions. And he might have warned Jwob that improper address of one's betters was a dangerous mistake among Sith, if he were concerned for the Ithorian's well-being. Neither was true - to correct him would be against Haretisch's proclivities, and he wouldn't act out of character simply for the health and safety of Bellorum's new apprentice. He did enough pretending as it was - the Dawn Herald could protect Jwob herself if the newcomer's miscarriages of etiquette ran him afoul of Sith more powerful than himself.

    "Jwob," he acknowledged aloud. "I hope that in dining with us this evening, you've found the food plentiful enough for both mouths."

    Jwob smiled at the comment. He was used to most people being cavalier about his unique physiology. Hammerhead was a common comment he was used to at this point. As a matter of fact, his physical makeup gave him an ability to destroy some things just by bellowing at them. A trait envied by a number of humans he'd met.

    "Yes! Absolutely. I've greatly enjoyed speaking to many people here including my Master. Such an amazing diversity here! You three have done a marvelous job of building up such a group of like-minded individuals. If you don't mind I ask, how did you get started in this?"

    A low, pondering hum rolled over in the dark lord's throat as he thought for a moment. "I... returned here after a long absence, bent on revenge for a great many wrongs done to me. But those upon which I would exact vengeance had already been their own undoing. Instead I found a purpose in a burgeoning empire," he paused, "and now we stand on the cusp of an ultimate and final victory." His words might have exuded conviction if his tone wasn't so abjectly flat. He spoke with no feeling - instead he only stared ahead unfocused and lift his glass hoping to find the bottom of it.

    "I would ask the same question if you if I didn't already know," he continued when the drink had run dry.

    "'Returned here'? So you joined the Sith... twice?" What a curious concept. Jwob searched Haretisch's eyes for some explanation and found none. "What... or who brought you back?"

    "Retribution," he said simply, with a hint of venom.

    Tag: Darth_wanderguard, any curious folks
     
  21. A Blind Prophet

    A Blind Prophet Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 25, 2016
    Combo between A Blind Prophet and WookieeRage

    Teafa Phaidraig and Darth Ravenous/ Banquet Hall/ Morabund

    Well, that was a spectacular failure. She could have at least been polite. Teafa had seen both of the holocrons on the Dawn Herald's person, her hand attempting to hide one of them in her pocket. She had watched, flustered, annoyed and belittled as the Dawn Herald handed one of them, the one that she had been sent to procure Teafa strongly suspected, to someone else. One of the Heroes, Kwea as the Dawn Herald had called the woman. Someone who surely didn't need it as much as she did, that much was for sure. But then, she didn't even have a real "name" as far as these people were concerned. How did I forget about that? Sith have Darth names. What in the world am I going to call myself? Darth I'm too scared? She felt her brows knit together in frustration, not that anyone else could have seen that. Perceptive people might have felt what she was feeling in the Force, but no one here seemed terribly on top of things at the moment as much wine as had been served. At least the Ithorian... Jwob? He was nice. Teafa decided that she was going to have to get to know him a bit better, assuming they both survived. Maybe Jwob would provide a starting place for her here, somewhere she could actually start understanding... Just understanding.

    Sighing softly, Teafa looked around for someone else to speak with. She spotted a Saurian of some sort that she had no idea what species he was, sitting next to a very intense seeming Zabrak. Probably best not to bother them. Something about the Saurian actually frightened her. Were she to say something about that to her master he would probably tell her to go talk to him right then and there, but she decided to neglect to mention that should he ask for a report from the evening. Go and get me more power, Darth Insipid had said. How in Ashla am I supposed to do that? Maybe simply being seen would be enough as she had no other ideas.

    As she began circling the room, heading rather obliquely towards the exit, she almost ran into a rather tall, shaggy and very messy looking Wookiee due to her attention being too focused towards the room. "Oh, I'm sorry. I shou-" She froze as she registered what was on the Wookiee's fur. It was blood. And gore. And... was that brain? Quickly she forced herself to continue what she had been saying, as she also recognized this as one of the other Heroes. The one who'd been given two medals, one for his fallen master. "Should watch where I'm going better..." She finished rather weakly. Searching for something to say, anything to say, that didn't involve the obvious she said something that was probably very unsithlike. "I'm sorry about your master." It came out before she could stop herself, as she was still mentally panicking at the thought of what the Wookiee had been eating as it seemed very much like it had been a sentient. And how she very, very much did not want to be his next meal.

    The Wookiee had just come back from a very intensive walk from the Morgue, almost bloodthirsty. He had a plan, but none would know of it except for him. That is, until he had run into this Woman in front of him, she had apologized and that act alone registered weirdly to Ravenous, in this room full of Sith. Without thinking, he quickly howled to her, he didn't know if she understood Shyriiwook,

    "Watch it girl! Can't you see I've somewhere to be!"

    He was going to slide around her, before anyone else noticed his grisly facade. But strangely, the Wookiee felt his aura connect with this one. He was taken aback and hesitated a moment, hoping, waiting for an out from what he was about to do.

    Anger. Rage. Hunger. Hurt? It was a potent mixture Teafa felt emanating off of this Wookiee, though a bit odd the last part. And then he howled at her, and she flinched back, unable to stop herself. The sight of him alone had put her back on her heels. It was then that she was very glad that Seer Verdan had made her translate something from a Wookiee scholar a couple of years back, otherwise she would have had no idea what he was saying. And even then it wasn't exact understanding, which was why she had been confused back then why he'd made her do it seeing as it was a language she'd had to use a dictionary and the holonet to get anywhere with. At least her memory seemed up to the challenge of helping her understand the Wookiee in front of her. It normally was.

    He was headed somewhere apparently, but for some reason he'd stopped and hesitated. I'd be headed somewhere too if I were him. Straight to the showers. Or the toilets. That she was still holding her liquor was somewhat surprising to her. While it wasn't nearly as much as some of the others here, only two glasses of wine, at least she thought it was only two as it was hard to keep track as servants kept refilling things when she wasn't looking, that was still far more than normal for her. It wasn't necessarily forbidden by the Luka Sene, or her people for that matter, but it was somewhat firmly frowned upon. Especially by the Seers, who felt one should always be on top of one's faculties. She'd always found the title Seer somewhat ironic for the masters of the Luka Sene, given her species limitations, but given the far sight it made a certain sense. Only in a prophetic kind of way.

    Opening her mouth to say something, Teafa found no sound coming out. It was clear that the Wookiee wanted something from her, otherwise why stop? Why the sense of hope directed straight at her? This was one of the instances she wished she weren't very good at reading emotions. Or that she was more drunk, as the swirl of highs and lows in that room was nearly overwhelming, and while the singular focus of the Wookiee helped, it wasn't precisely the most pleasant thing either. Then her mouth was moving, "No, I'm afraid I don't really see much of anything." She smiled slightly, "Not something my species is particularly good at." Hoping that making light of the situation wasn't the wrong answer, she reached up towards her visor and removed it, revealing all of her eyeless face. After all, it wasn't for other Miraluka that her species covered their eyeless faces, but for the sake of all of the beings that had the ubiquitous orbs.

    Ravenous gazed as the Miraluka removed her visor to reveal her eyeless, visage; elegant and angular. He had briefly studied the Miraluka species while studying under his Jedi Master. The Wookiee waved his hands in front of the woman and howled a less threatening noise as his bloodthirst was taken astray momentarily,

    "You see... Through the Force?"

    He never thought something so simple could be so interesting. He could see through the Force, but nowhere near the level of a Miraluka. They relied on it, thrived on it. He merely used it.

    Relief flooded through Teafa as the Wookiee calmed down some, even though he was certainly still rather disgusting to look at due to the gore, but she managed to keep herself more or less calm. She suspected that she was going to have to get used to doing so, otherwise she was never going to make it in this place.

    Nodding, Teafa said, "As well as I understand what 'sight' actually is, yes. From my understanding of it, there's a big difference. For instance, I can't understand not being able to 'see' what's behind me, like that servant there," here she pointed at a slave carrying more food, "with the nerf steaks." She hadn't moved her head in the slightest to emphasis the point yet pointed unerringly to the woman and tracked her as she walked. However, she didn't mention that she could also see through things, like she knew that particular slave was carrying a blaster strapped to her thigh. Teafa tried not to focus on that anymore, not wanting to know the reasoning behind being armed in such a manner and the emotions she was trying to keep under control felt like a hot knife in her mind.

    "Do you mind if I ask your name? I'm Teafa." She decided not to mention who her master was, given how much of a sore spot his own master being gone seemed to be. At least that was the only reason she could think of for the pain.

    "My Master anointed me as Darth Ravenous. He is now part of me."

    The Wookiee let loose a grim smile, there was chunks of brain matter stuck in his fangs. A servant caught a glimpse and dropped her tray full of refreshments.

    "Come, let us walk the halls, I don't need to gain any more attention, and the element of surprise is gone."

    He motioned to the Miraluka, he did not touch her, this much he remembered from his studies, but continued with a bit of authority and a glare down to her level.

    "I insist.."

    The best she could understand his name was great hunger, but there was no way that was what he meant. It took her a few moments to figure it out, as someone with great hunger was ravenous, which actually made sense. Hunger for power. And brains apparently. She tried not to grimace at the sight of the bits of "meat" in his teeth. At least she knew who he had eaten, and it was someone who had already been dead. Although she could not in any way grasp why eating someone who had been close to him could help with that. "He's part of me now." While she could understand wanting a piece of someone to stay with you, the idea of it being so literal was off putting.

    A clatter of dropped drinks made her jump. Stop focusing on his mouth Teafa. That should not have surprised you. And then she was being asked to go for a walk through the temple. He motioned at her to follow, but thankfully did not touch her. She didn't know what she would have done if he had. Completely frozen, probably. And while she didn't really see the glare so much as feel it, she was well aware it was there, intimidating in the raw physical power Ravenous had at his disposal. Adding in the Force...

    She thought about it for a moment, and realized that she had no real reason to stay here that could get her out of it. Nor did she particularly want to stay. So, she found herself nodding her assent. "Lead the way, please Ravenous. I'm afraid I don't know the temple particularly well." She turned away from the hall of revels and lies, as there was a very distinct undercurrent of desperation concerning the morrow circulating through the Force. And if she was entirely honest with herself, Teafa was more than glad to have an excuse to get out of it. Then a somewhat disturbing thought crossed her mind, and again she forced her face to remain calm. Ashla, I hope he's not hitting on me.

    The Wookiee led her through the temple corridors, still empty from the banquet going on, as they walked he tried to continue the conversation, still groggy from the alcohol,

    "Did they reject you as they have me? I was a fool to think I had a home here. They don't accept the unique ones here... I play their games, pleasantries and hierarchy, but it is a facade. There is a war going on in the Force. I've... seen things that I should have never seen in my short time here. Have you seen something you should not?"

    They rounded the corner and followed the path he had previously taken.

    It felt odd, how empty the halls were. It was incredibly refreshing to simply have a far more subtle dark feeling surrounding her, than the blazing ball of emotion, darkness and Force power the banquet hall was. For the first time since she arrived Teafa found herself actually starting to relax, which was amazing considering she was with a Wookiee that towered over her that clearly had a taste for sentient flesh. Or at the very least brains. But given everything she had been dealing with since arriving, and at the banquet, only having two things to cope with instead of several dozen was much easier. Mentally blocking out the knot in the Force that was the banquet she focused on where they were heading, which seemed to be towards the medical wing based on the map she had seen before. Please tell me we aren't going to see his master. Please Ashla, not that.

    And then there was what Ravenous was saying, which was also more than enough to attract her attention from those thoughts and the banquet, thankfully. A war in the Force? What did that even mean? What could that entail exactly? Were they actually fighting the Force itself, or something that claimed to embody it? Beings seemed most likely because of the names that Insipid had mentioned, names like Typhojem. Abeloth. Mortis. Who were these beings? Places? The few mentions she had stumbled across in her varied research certainly didn't help. So many questions, and absolutely no answers. It was obvious that some of it connected to the things that her master had spoken about, and the mission that they were all going on the following day. While that was what had grabbed her attention, she hadn't missed the rest of what he said. Not having a place here, playing the game, and seeing things. LIke my master warned me about. That I will see things that I shouldn't. Though I suspect I shall see them in a more real sense than he thinks. Teafa found herself shivering at the thought. Anything that could shake one such as this Wookiee was not something she was looking forward to experiencing for herself.

    "I haven't been here long enough to see anything. I only just arrived earlier today. Only just met my master this evening." Teafa paused for a moment as they walked, taking in the sheer age of everything here. The dark aura of it. How young it made her feel. She was also debating saying more, but given that Ravenous seemed something of an outcast among the Sith it likely wouldn't hurt. Maybe this was what Insipid had meant by gain her more power? Make connections? "Based on what my master said, I suspect I will be seeing some of those things tomorrow." You will see things that can never be unseen.The thought echoed through her mind again. It would likely keep her up far later than she wanted it to.

    Absently she pulled at her clothes, as they were bunching up uncomfortably around her torso. "I hate wearing other people's clothes. They never fit right. Either too small, or too big." Teafa stopped for a moment and frowned. Then muttering to herself something like feth it, she drew the dress off and tossed it to the floor for some servant to find. She had no intention of returning to the celebrations, and she was with a Wookiee. Surely he couldn't care given they normally went in nothing but their fur. And not that she particularly cared as she couldn't understand the appeal of the sight of a naked being, but she had on her undergarments to preserve some modicum of modesty."There, that's much better. I can understand why your species tends not to wear clothes."Teafa grunted softly as she stretched, and then rubbed the area that had been rubbed nearly raw. Kneeling, she grabbed the sash with her weapons on it, and put it back around her waist. She was not leaving her own belongings here. Looking up at the Wookiee she motioned for him to continue walking.

    Ravenous could understand other species perception of beauty and this one had a nice physique however, he was not interested in furless species as mates. He shrugged off the disrobing and continued down the hall leading her through the destroyed kitchen, grabbing another alcohol bottle from the pantry as he emerged on the opposite entrance of the kitchen he looked to his left and right and led them around a couple more halls before arriving at the white room he had been previously. The Wookiee motioned to the Miraluka to follow as he disappeared into the light, did the Miraluka understand the concept of light?

    "Come, look what the Outsider has done, surely the....Triumvirate will disapprove."

    You could hear the cork to the bottle he snatched from the pantry pop and some deep bellowing laughs with a howl that trailed off.

    It was somewhat surprising to Teafa how at ease she was becoming with Ravenous, and the fact that he seemed to more or less ignore her state of undress only added to that. She padded along beside the Wookiee, who was easily two feet taller than her meager 5'2. If someone were to stumble upon the two of them strolling, or prowling maybe, through the halls it would have been quite the sight. Yet there was no one, not even a stray slave.

    As they passed through a kitchen, left in significant disarray, broken bottles of liquor and wine leaving puddles of wealth on the shelves of their pantry and the floor. Pots and pans, various bits of food and other liquids, ingredients, were scattered all over the place. Some of which had even made its way to the ceiling she noted. What happened here? Did he do this? It was almost like a storm of the Force had raged through this room, leaving destruction in it's wake. She could have seen that child doing this, the one who had pulled Marrasiah Fel from the ceiling and... No, She would not think about that disturbing misanthrope right now. Lord Haretisch's apprentice was best left for another time.

    Ravenous headed straight for the pantry and grabbed a bottle, what seemed to be another one most likely, and headed out the other side of the kitchen into more halls. Reviewing the map in her mind, she noted that they were indeed still headed towards the medical wing. Sighing softly, Teafa began to steel herself against whatever Ravenous had done to the body of his former Master. Had she really wanted to, she could have looked now to save herself the trouble, all it would require was simple focus in that direction, but instead she kept her "vision" focused to the more immediate. In time she would see one way or another.

    Arriving in the hall just as Ravenous seemed to have gathered his bearings, they headed off again in silence. Oddly, it wasn't awkward to her. It simply was, because there was nothing that needed to be said. Could we actually become friends? If someone had told her she would even be considering such a thing a week ago she would have laughed in their face. Her? Friends with someone who would eat a man's brain? Never. Never, until she arrived in this place and found everything she knew flipped completely on its head and her adrift without a hyperdrive. Or an engine. Or navcomputer. Not even a hypercomm, really.

    Then they were there. Ravenous beckoned her forward again, before entering himself. Teafa found herself very grateful that she had realized where they were headed. The annoying thing was that she didn't actually need to enter the room to see what had happened. Her sight made it incredibly easy for her to see the ruined head, the gore oozing it's way onto the slab that the corpse of Ravenous former master lay on. But she couldn't precisely tell him that, as he obviously needed her to be physically in the room. Taking a deep breath, knowing that the room was going to stink of death, she entered.

    What struck her as the most odd about this situation beyond being in it, as Ravenous said that surely the Triumvirate would disapprove of what he had done as he again called himself an outsider, was that the blood didn't flow like she had thought it would. Clearly the man had been dead for some time, and so instead of being the flowing liquid that she was used to whenever she had dealt with a cut, it oozed slowly, thickly. Like sewage. The laughter of the Wookiee echoing in the room was an odd counterpoint to that thought. Likely he would have laughed had she mentioned it to him.

    Turning her focus to Ravenous, Teafa saw him drinking from the bottle. Were there not bits of brain likely floating in the liquor she would have asked for a drink. Odd how this is bothering me less than the Empress.. It's amazing what time to prepare one's mind can actually do. But it certainly still bothered her. She could feel her stomach roiling, the smell being more than enough to accomplish that. Clearing her throat, and wishing she'd grabbed a bottle from the pantry herself, Teafa said"But you're one of their Heroes. Are you really an outsider? Or have you just been one for so long that you don't know how to stop being one?" The turmoil in this one was much clearer in the stillness of the morgue, and instead of the room she focused on the living being beside her. Maybe this was the first step of using the dark for good.

    Ravenous could feel the Miraluka scanning him, focusing on him after the statement. The question she asked struck his gut like a kick from a Kybuck, but it had made the most sense out of anything he had experienced yet. The Wookiee refused to sleep within the Temple and instead opted for his own Freighter within the Shuttle Bay for his personal quarters. He contemplated running and even offered Darth Hel the option of running, enough credits aboard his Freighter to where they would be set for life not governed by the Sith. He had never stopped running since he devoured his Jedi Master on that barren planet all those years ago. The Woman that stood before him with her blindness which was truly not an ailment at all. Through refined sight she could see simplistically to the very root of his own ailment. It was never his Master dying to be the problem as most assumed. They would never understand but this woman did. Unfortunately, she seemed very over her head in this Temple. Ravenous dropped the bottle that was clutched in his hand, it cracked and its contents mixed with the blood that was oozing onto the floor, the Wookiee paid it no heed. He placed his hand onto the chest of Hades' body and pulled out the medal he was given from his pouch with the other hand. He then placed it onto the chest of his Master. The tumultuous years from when he left the Jedi to when he joined the Sith was the curse he had felt for so long, each one ushered in by a bloody feast. His taste for flesh would never go away but these feelings would. He closed his eyes as the medal heated the cold, lifeless corpse until, to the Wookiee's surprise, Hades burst into flames. Ravenous shifted back as the flames consumed the body until nothing was left but ashes. He turned to Teafa, dumbfounded by what had happened. He had heard of Pyrokinesis before, but he knew nothing of it,

    "What happened, did you do that?"

    The dropped bottle almost made Teafa jump, but she remained still and silent as this was clearly not a moment that was about her. What she had said had obviously had a deep impact on Ravenous, For the positive she hoped. She shifted her focus to the floor, and watched the liquor mingle with the congealed blood... which began to run more normally as moisture mixed in with it, thinning it.

    After several moments Ravenous moved, and placed his hand upon the chest of the dead man with the ruined head. His master. She absently wondered what this man had done to have such a deep impact on the Wookiee. And what else had happened in his past to push him to such a lonely existence. Ultimately that was the deep pain that she was feeling from him, and she felt slightly ashamed that it had taken her so long to realize it. It was something that was forming in her own being as well, and had been for a long time now that she thought about it, Talwar not withstanding. Teafa found herself toying with her bracelet again, and wondered what he was doing. What he would think of her standing here, in this temple, with this Wookiee.

    She was startled out of her own thoughts by a sudden fire leaping up from the corpse on the slab. Looking at Ravenous, and then back at the fire, they watched in stunned silence as the body was reduced to ashes. When Ravenous asked if she had done that, she would have stared at him had she eyes. The intensity of her focus resulted in much the same result. After a moment she said, "I barely know anything Ravenous. Certainly no powers such as that." Looking at the ash pile again, an odd thought occurred to her. "Maybe that was him becoming one with the Force? Though I've never heard of fire being involved..." She trailed off, curiosity overriding what should have been horror at a dead body spontaneously combusting. Research. There would be much research into this in her future. Maybe she would talk to the librarian about it.

    The Wookiee was dumbfounded to what he had just witnessed. To become one with the Force for a Dark Sider was unheard of, at least, to Ravenous. The Jedi learned of a way to do so but maybe this was the Dark Side equivalent? A Warrior Funeral at the very least. Regardless, Ravenous felt a burden lift from his shoulders that resembled peace, if he only didn't know that peace was a lie. Why would the Force have this Miraluka cross his path? Was it trying to mend this Warrior back together, or did it have a grander scheme? Not knowing what powers were at play here the Wookiee at least acknowledged Teafa and realized what her role here was. A howl struck the metallic walls of the morgue,

    "Thank you Teafa, I believe you may have saved me from my inevitable doom."

    Ravenous then bowed before the Woman, a low kneel. He closed his eyes as the Darkness extruded from him, suffocating any Light that may have been present. His life debt had once again been consumed by fire and hunger. The next action was irreversible.

    "I invoke a life-debt to you... I may be a superior to you within this Temple, But I owe you my life. You shall never find me far away. Through spirit and battle, I will stand next to you and protect you until I am no more."

    The life-debt may have been a curse but what had been done was done.

    There was a certain lightness to the Wookiee now, not in the sense of the lightside, but a lightness of spirit. And it brought a smile to Teafa's face when he mentioned that she may have saved him. Before she could respond she found Ravenous kneeling in front of her, and even so they were closer to eye level with the Wookiee still being the taller of the two. What in the world is he doing? And then she found out.

    A life-debt. I have a life-debt from... Ashla, what just happened? Hesitantly Teafa reached out, and rested a hand on a non-sticky part of Ravenous shoulder. She had no clue what the proper protocol was for a situation like this, but even she understood the seriousness of a Wookiee life-debt. Most of the galaxy had at least heard of the concept. A few other species had them as well, so she had heard, but it was most famously tied to the shaggy beings from Kashyyyk. Part of Teafa felt like crying in relief knowing that she wasn't going to be alone here, but lacking eyes there was literally no way for there to be an outward expression of that. And she certainly wasn't about to start sobbing.

    After a moments thought she finally spoke. "And I promise not to take advantage of you, nor use you up. I know I will probably never find anyone else I can truly trust here, and..." She smiled a bit, unbelieving of what she was about to say of this blood and brain speckled Wookiee, "I value my friends too much to want to see you hurt." Suddenly she was starting to feel much better about her future here, both immediate and the more speculative. Surely with the help of a hero of the Sith, and the Emperor himself around, she would be able to survive anything. An odd idea struck her and she said, "Would you mind too much if I called you Rav?" The idea of giving him a nickname was kind of odd, but she didn't want to ask his real name of him yet. She figured that would come of its own accord when he was ready.

    Galactic Basic was just sounds to Ravenous anyway, it's how he heard everything. There was no language comprehension as any other humanoid species would have, no words, just... Sounds. However, he had to keep up appearances in front of higher ups than even him, he responded to the Miraluka's request with a respectful howl,

    "If we are in the company of the Lords or Triumvirate, for your sake and mine, call me by my moniker. Should we be alone, my name that my clan gave to me is Wuulfwarg, you may call me Wuulf or Rav or whatever you want girl."

    He left it at that and rose, towering over the woman. Servants started passing in the halls once more, with empty dishes and uneaten platters, likely to be fed to the slaves. Ravenous reacted to this and continued,

    "Come, we must leave this area, we will not be linked to what has transpired here. We will not speak of this to anybody. I must get to my ship's refresher to wash away...This. Then I must meditate, we leave tomorrow for Mortis."

    He motioned to the front of himself indicating the bloody mess that covered his frame.

    A delicate smile again graced Teafa's face as she was told his name, and to use the moniker Darth Ravenous around... well, pretty much anyone else. But he had given her leave to call him whatever she wanted. She was mildly amused that he considered her a girl, but given the probable age difference and the sheer longevity of the Wookiee species, it wasn't too shocking. Her response was a simple thank you, and then she noticed others walking around as Ravenous rose from his knee. Go and add to my power, ran through her mind briefly but she pushed it aside. This was one thing that was not about power, even though she knew even Ravenous might disagree with her on that front. She would keep this from her master as long as she might, as this was a private thing between her and Wuulfwarg.

    As he glanced out the doorway as a servant passed, he mentioned that they shouldn't be here when others came to see to the corpses and Teafa couldn't have agreed more. She found herself yawning as Revnous mentioned that he was going to head back to his ship, apparently his quarters here, and shower. Which she could not have agreed more heartily with.

    "I suspect meditation will do us both a world of good. Force knows this has been a long enough day as it is." Again she smiled at him, feeling a certain lightness and peace herself. "Thank you Wuulfwarg. I'll see you in the morning." Bowing to him slightly, she turned away, glad to not have to look at the bits and pieces he had indicated himself any longer. Thinking about to what Lenora had said about her room earlier, Teafa reviewed it's location on the map in her mind and started making her way there. Sleep and meditation would do her a world of good.


    TAG: GM's
     
  22. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    GM Post 1 of 4

    IC: The After Life of the Party


    There was a guest at the feast that was uninvited.

    First, he had visited the girl Teafa in her room. She had been whimsically focusing on her new lift debt. He had glanced lazily over at the Emperor's apprentice. 'A blind prophet? No, just blind, my friend. No matter the name you choose.' An affectionate tap on her head as he walked off. He had also, simultaneously, been pacing after Ravenous, pawing at his fur with bemusement. 'Furred here, by choice, and elsewhere... A onesie? Well that is a twist for the days. Don't forget to disable the autopilot, or you'll be stuck!'

    Then he made it to the feast.

    Unbidden, the cloaked figure stepped through the festivities as the table was pushed to the side of the hall and a dance floor evident. He pushed through the throng of partygoers, placing a hand on a shoulder here, touching a palm softly there. At one point he even curved a hand around the waist of Bellorum.

    There were two distinctive points to be made about this man, his cowl up, his hands all but shadows in his sleeves.

    The first is how well he seemed to know everyone there. Not their personas, no, but the fingertips upon keyboards behind them.

    To Manticore he shook his hand vigorously. 'An oldbie! You need a lot more grey in this Zabrak. Better luck next time!' To his apprentice, he affected a warm tone. 'Elusive to the last, no?'

    He moved on. A palm was placed on the cheek of Anark as he turned his face to him. 'A fascination with zombies? How ironic! I shall remember you when I see you next, and make your wish come true!'

    Kronos he gave a glance of respect, catching his eye. 'Young love. How sweet.' He simply nodded at Esme across the room, and moved on to Kwea. 'Well you're a winsome one. A dancer too? I wonder how you will dance among flames...'

    To Syren he smiled. 'A time traveller? That is interesting.' At that point Darth Insipid's ear twitched, and he strode over. 'May I introduce myself?'

    'Ryan? Isn't it?' The Emperor was flabbergasted, hoping Hesper, a step away, hadn't heard. He could block the words from the ears of Syren, but Hesper was a level higher. The cloaked man stepped on to speak to her.

    'Oh look! The same name offline and on! How interesting. And the former apprentice of Dreadwar, that treacherous cur. You would have done far better under him.' He sought out the Loremaster. 'You share a name with Draconis, do you not? I wonder where he is... And Tek to boot. No, wait, not Tek - Re'van. A slight mix up.'

    He reached for and relieved Haretisch of his drink with a wink. 'A pleasure, Kodo.'

    And then he caught on to the Chancellor. 'Han Solo! No, wait, wrong century! Maybe... Wrong timeline!' He laughed; the noise was not loud enough over the tumult of the party. Again Darth Insipid's ear twitched and he stepped over. 'Ryan; go indulge your narcissism and lay with your made-up boyfriend.' He gestured as if speaking to a child before encountering one, peering down at her. 'And of course a little Chiss. 'Rae is it? Not anything else? You sure?' The man chortled again.

    Secrets were redundant.

    As too, was the opportunity for them to rebutt.

    For after every moment he slipped from their memory, which was why Darth Insipid had sought to engage in a second conversation in spite of the same result occurring.

    He moved on, caught Jwob by the arm and interrupted a conversation he was having. 'Scars?' He noted the Holocron. 'Oh look, someone who delights in shapes. The stranger the better. If anything a Force using Mandalorian would be a refreshing change of normalcy for you!'

    He shook his head. Nothing remotely of interest. He took Arach's hand in both of his, passing his drink to Insipid again, dumbfounding him anew. The Emperor was stuck in a loop. 'The ring of a One Sith. Traitor? Oh dear. No, no longer. Boring!' He flicked his finger on her forehead, sent her tumbling over with a drink spilling.

    The man snorted. He was done.

    He had reviewed their sum total.

    Lacking.

    Sorely lacking.

    And with that, he darkly chuckled.

    But it was a chuckle which reverberated through them all. And then, he was gone; and all they had for memory was a vague sense of unease.

    Of course; the players of this 'game' would remember.

    Remember they would.

    TAG: Nobody and everybody


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  23. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM Update 2 of 4

    ~

    6 Hours Later

    Quiet steps tracked through the now abandoned banquet hall, shadowy and slow. The moon shone down from the skylights onto the table devoid of life but littered with plates and cutlery and half-empty goblets. A figure armored in darkness walked freely and fearlessly where the most formidable of the Sith Empire had broken bread together only hours before, and the clawed fingers of his left hand found a glass. Nails screeched against crystal as he lift it in a mocking toast, a fanged grin appearing from the darkness behind his coif. Then he spoke in many voices, quietly, though it would reach the ears of all and create an inescapable shiver.

    "To the end."

    ~

    IC: Darth Haretisch -- Great Temple, Moraband, morning of the 6th day. Nearly the end.
    (combo with Sinrebirth and Lady Belligerent)

    "High Lord Arach is gone," the words came quickly from Darth Haretisch's mouth, only a moment after he had burst into the throne room unceremoniously. Insipid and Bellorum waited inside, having come in the dead of night at his request, when he had professed the need for an emergency meeting. "She's vanished without a trace."

    "What?" Insipid was instantly awake, not groggy at all. "But we need her for the Final Ritual." The Emperor had his comlink already in hand before he realised it was moot. Either he trusted Haretisch or he did not. He nonetheless tugged the hilt from his belt to his hand, and eyed up Bellorum. Treachery? Now?

    Haretisch pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, loosing a sigh. "The night before the march," he muttered. "I don't know if she was complicit. But I'll note that Talon was allowed to run amok until only a few days ago," he continued, eyeing Insipid. "There is no way to know how many traitors are in our midst because of her, or whether Arach was one of them. But that's neither here nor there. What about the key?"

    Insipid fully glared at him. "It won't take itself out of play. It's almost sentient. It will manifest itself within the Order elsewhere. But it needs to be someone with a connection to Typhojem."

    The room darkened at the mention of the name.

    Insipid unleashed a bolt of lightning into the ceiling out of frustration. "Enough!"

    He still had not let go of his lightsaber.

    Pebbled bits of scorched stone fell in the lightning's wake. "Enough indeed, Emperor," Haretisch glowered. He made no move for his blade, but his posture was one of readiness in the event that Insipid's miniature tantrum were directed at more than inanimate objects. "Enough of your schemes, Insipid. Tell us the truth now. To whom do you swear allegiance?"

    "Let's calm down a moment," Bellorum cut in, in an even voice. "There's no need for bloodshed," she looked from the Emperor's eyes to his weapon at the ready. Although she loved nothing more observing the Emperor and Haretisch ego posturing, Bellorum felt the need to de-escalate the situation.

    She turned to Haretisch, "Have you ordered a search of her quarters? Or even questioned Syren," she almost sighed over the tension in the air. "Let's not make too much of this before we know more."

    Haretisch's expression went blank at the mention of Syren - mental gears turning. "No, and I'm certain she doesn't know anything... but she may be a solution anyway." He thought for a moment. "On Hoth, Syren touched the Eye. And she immediately lost consciousness. She spoke to Kralkus of a.... A voice. A familiar one. Unexplainably so, but familiar nonetheless."

    A silent moment passed. "It's him. And he has lived within her for millennia. There is no other explanation for what might have drawn her to Sadow'een. She was there to break a seal, whether she knew it or not."

    Insipid appeared gruff regardless. "We are still missing a High Lord. As and when we seal the Keyhole we will need the political engine to be intact for us to effectively rule." A pause. "Arach, though competent herself, was an appeasement to any Dreadwar sympathisers out there. Do we need to elevate another from his former power base to fill the gap?"

    "There must always be a third," Bellorum stated thoughtfully. "I believe there's only one choice, it should be Hesper."

    The Butcher of Coruscant was indeed powerful, and a worthy choice to take Arach's place.

    Haretisch nodded in agreement - Hesper was the best option, to the extent that she was the only one to even be considered. "Hesper it is," he said, though his mind was now somewhere else.

    Insipid felt like he was being manipulated. When Dreadwar had been Emperor, Haretisch was usually butting heads with him and Insipid played peacekeeper and generally had his way. Now he was the 'authority' and Bellorum always won. Annoying.

    "Fine. She's a former apprentice of Dreadwar too, so she works from that angle."

    Insipid tapped his chin with the base of his lightsaber hilt. "But she stays with Shadow Squadron. I'm not reworking the roster. Syren will be moved up to Hell Squadron, obviously." That put him one down but the Chancellor would have to do his part.

    The Emperor looked to them both, as if he was daring another one to disagree. Hesper was too free a spirit to be part of his power base, even if he had completed her training. But, like Manticore and Titus and even Kronos or Jwob, she had a strong sense of loyalty to Order... As demonstrated by her not taking advantage of his faked unconsciousness.

    Perhaps he should consider making her a replacement Dark Lord.

    But the Emperor simply smiled at the two of them, even if Haretisch seemed distracted. "Can I go back to bed now?"

    ~

    "There, into the shuttle," the Night Herald pointed one gloved hand to an open loading ramp as he sipped caf with the other, directing a trio of hapless servants pushing a cart of munitions. Quietly he surveyed a pair of shuttles sitting idly in Hangar North - one his own and the other waiting for the rest of Hell Squadron - and mentally reviewed his checklist for departure.

    In the sky, the Chimaera waited to carry them all to victory. Or perhaps to defeat. Those terms were relative anyway, he thought, as he ascended the ramp and was shortly thereafter thrust into orbit. The others would surely not be far behind - at dawn he had sent out a summons to each of Syren, Manticore, and the Lorekeeper to report to conference room 6B for briefing. As he approached the Empire's new flagship, he reflected on a thousand days that he could remember and wondered at ten thousand more that he had forgotten like dreams after waking.

    He felt in a dream now, too. Nothing was entirely real. He had fallen asleep a long time ago, the moment Kalo fell dead against his chest, and he had been trapped in a nightmare ever since. An awful nightmare full of creatures far too terrible to be anything but figments of his imagination. Ancient gods of innumerable eyes and grasping hands, and a world where death was never the end, only the beginning. Eyes which could see through him and across planes of creation into another man in another world, from whose mind had sprung the dream and nightmare of Darth Haretisch, to whom the Night Herald's joy and suffering was owed equally.

    And those eyes could see the others as well.

    The shuttle landed aboard the Chimaera, and he numbly made his way alone to the conference room. Guards snapped to attention as he passed - but he did not return the acknowledgement. Instead he simply entered the room and stood, silently gazing from the viewport along the exterior wall, and out into the galaxy and the endless space beyond, waiting for the others. Shuttles were launching from the temple every minute now, and preparation for the final march was fully underway.

    "We know little of what to expect," he explained once they had all arrived, as a holoprojector set into the table set an image of a metallic octahedron turning slowly in midair, cast in a ghostly blue.

    "What we do know is gathered partly from old Clone Wars newsreels and third-hand accounts from Jedi. Unreliable at best, if you ask me. What cannot be refuted is that Mortis is under the control of pantheonic cultists - servants of the Infinite Sith, worshippers of Typhojem."

    Haretisch stood and paced as the explanation continued. "As for what battle implements they may employ, again we know very little. Artillery, infantry, fighter squadrons... all are possibilities, and what we do encounter will determine the actions of Blade and Shadow Squadrons. The role of Hell Squadron, however, is very simple."

    He met the gaze of Manticore, Syren, and the Lorekeeper in turn. "Each of you comprises a piece of the key which will seal the Left-Handed Lord in Chaos... Permanently.

    Lord Manticore, you became the tip of the key unknowingly when bequeathed the title of Battlelord by the Emperor. Dreadwar himself had come to possess this piece of the key after the ritual of Nilbremah, and through his bond with Insipid it was passed upon his death.

    Esteemed Lorekeeper, it is your possession of the spirit of Lord Cruor, apprentice to Typhojem when last he was powerful enough to take corporeal form, which has led the handle of the key to manifest itself within you.

    And of course, Lady Syren... you are the keyhole itself - the passage through which the key will pass to turn the lock. Lady Arach was once to fulfill this role, until her disappearance. But somehow, as though the force itself willed it, you have come to us with the power to act in her stead. I cannot say how, or why, but the touch of the Left-Handed Lord has shaped you just as it shaped Arach. Your presence within the force has been milled by his very fingers during your stasis in Sadow'een where he was able to exert influence.

    There is now but one thing we must do. Deep within the Well of the Dark Side, in the shadow of the citadel, a circle of power waits as the nexus through which Typhojem can be touched most directly. It is there we must complete the ritual. As Blade Squadron draws the larger defenses away from us, and Shadow Squadron provides whatever cover is necessary, Hell Squadron must enter the well via aircraft and find the circle.

    Each piece of the key, each of you, must shed living blood upon the ground within it, and then it will be finished."


    The Night Herald studied each of his comrades' reactions.

    "The hour is late. We will enter hyperspace shortly," he finished.


    TAG: greyjedi125, Mikaboshi, QueenSabe7
     
  24. Lady_Belligerent

    Lady_Belligerent Queen of the RPF, SWC, C&P, and Pancakes & Waffles star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    GM Update 3 of 4

    "She's a handful, isn't she?" Haretisch grinned.

    Bellorum's golden eyes seemed to stare through the Night Herald, her lips were pressed together tightly, and graceful hands clenched at her sides. The Dawn Herald was taken aback at how Haretisch had taken the whole scene in stride, he even seemed... cheerful.

    She had no words. None! And, he expected her to take responsibility of that child on the mission to Mortis? So much was running through her mind, but she maintained a blank stare.
    Refusing to give him any satisfaction, she turned her back and walked away.

    There was a vacant seat next to Ike, so she pulled the chair close to his and sighed heavily, "I may have miscalculated when I gave him that child to train." She, like many others, was still looking at the soup spattered remains of Empress Fel.

    Ike was slightly mortified, but also highly amused. 'Yes, you did. Not at the best juncture either. You're all so... Stressed. On edge.'

    Haretisch was quite the opposite of that, obviously, so he had to be referring to his Dark Lord.

    The man downed his cocktail and held out his hand to a scantily glad man-slave for another. 'Bellorum, meet Rufus. Rufus, bow.' The brunette with his all but epic length hair bowed. Ike edged his head around the bow to sneak a look at the backside in those tight red pants. He looked back at Bellorum and shrugged as Rufus straightened - which was fairly punny as the man gave her a very warm and inviting smile, and spread it to include Ike too. The consort returned the smile but with a more predatory edge before gesturing him lazily to move back.

    'Insipid assigned me to your squadron.' He sipped, hard, at the cocktail. 'We haven't had a fight about it yet, but he keeps sending me away, or going away. Thus these.' He indicated the half a dozen drinks he had consumed.

    'I guess you have a plan, my dear?'

    ====

    In the hours after the festivities, Bellorum took time to prepare her gear and make plans for the mission. She'd already sent out a text message to the newly anointed Shadow Squadron.

    Darth Hesper, Darth Kwea Acantha , Darth Zalen, Darth Serapis, and Darth Deathy's nanny droid -

    Report to my shuttle at first light, we will depart for the Chimaera immediately, being late is not an option.

    Get your affairs in order and complete the final arrangement documents attached to this message, then forward them to the Temple Archivist.

    Lady Bellorum


    ====

    After a few moments of thoughtful consideration, she dashed off one more quick message to her apprentice.

    Jwob -

    As you may have gathered from my previous message, Deathy will be traveling with Shadow Squadron.

    ...


    "Against my better judgement," she spoke aloud though clenched teeth.

    I've arranged for her Nanny droid to accompany her, but I'm placing you responsible for being sure she doesn't get into mischief. Do not fail me.

    Lady Bellorum


    =====

    In the morning, Shadow Squadron convened for briefing in the personnel shuttle which would brook passage to the Chimaera.

    From Bellorum's datapad, a hologram of the Mortis Monolith floated in the middle of the room. The dark lady wished there were more information available.

    "We believe that cultists are already entrenched in the monastery, the tower, and around the Well of the Dark Side," she explained.

    "Blade Squadron will work to secure the citadel and draw the defenses away from the Well. Hell Squadron will make directly for the Well itself, where we hope they can complete the ritual," the briefing continued. The projection morphed from the monolith into a series screen grabs from slightly fictionalized portrayals of the locations listed.

    "Our role is to provide support to both Hell and Blade, via starfighters and gunboats," Bellorum continued. "Because we don't know how the cultists are equipped. There's a possibility we may have to run interference at the entrance of the Well against enemy fighters. We may need to direct strafing runs at defensive embankments along the citadel. What ships we implement and the movements we make will all depend on what we encounter when the Chimaera decants from hyperspace."

    With a click the hologram disappeared and Bellorum put away her datapad. She picked up a small tote bag that had been sitting on the floor beside her chair. Opening it, she inspected the contents to be sure her instructions had been followed to the letter.

    Once satisfied that all was in order, she levitated the bag across and lowered it in front of Jwob. "I took the liberty of putting together some supplies for Deathy," Bellorum shot the child a look that showed she meant business. "There is a datapad loaded with holovids of graphic and disturbing surgical procedures, a curriculum for postmortem procedures, and a selection of games." She paused and looked back to Jwob, "I also had fruit snacks, space lunchables, gogurt, and juice boxes packed in the bag. My research told me that snacks and educational activities were the best method to keep children entertained while traveling."

    The pilot interrupted announcing they had rendezvoused with the Chimaera and would be landing in the assigned hanger bay shortly.

    Tag: Sinrebirth Halle Dray DarthIshyZ Dark_Lady_Rae corinthia Mitth_Fisto
     
  25. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    GM post 4 of 4

    IC: Darth Insipid


    The shuttle carried up the Sith Emperor. In hindsight, it was a bit ostentatious a title. How many quims had claimed it? When one looked at those who had been truly acknowledged as Emperor, or Empress, one could only acknowledge Vitiate, Sidious and Krayt. All of which had known Essence Transfer too.

    It was more than a bit repetitive. And ridiculous. Insipid found himself reflecting that he and Dreadwar had been emulating those who came before them. Krayt to a lesser extent with Sidious, and Sidious to a different extent with Vitiate.

    A Sith Empire beget a certain structure, and absently Insipid wished they had abandoned the design, to have gone for something more tribal, or more akin to sorcerers rampaging, like Kun.

    He shook his head.

    Those structures beget victory; to reach victory an Empire was the best design of the Sith Order they had. It was firm, and that firmness enabled it to survive defeats and corruption and civil strife, as long as it was maintained with an iron fist.

    But even then, that structure meant nothing to gods.

    Abeloth was gone, but Typhojem remained.

    If he escaped...

    Again a shake of his head. He knew what was truly bothering him. Darth Insipid had said goodbye to Ike; his Consort and love. And while he would never allow their attachment to deter him, he could keenly feel the separation on this mission.

    Mortis in and of itself was dangerous.

    It would pull them apart.

    Sidious spoke of it, in the Telos Holocron - of him having, after many years into his mastery over Vader, slyly enquiring of his apprentice as to events there, having sat on his questions for more than a decade so as not to betray his deep need to know just what had happened when the Chosen One went to Mortis.

    The Emperor simply had to trust that Ike would survive.

    That they all would.

    For, if Hell Squadron managed to stop the opening of the Keyhole, Insipid would go on thereafter to win. Of course Hell Squadron's chances were reduced now that Arach had vanished. Had Bellorum done that, to weaken his chances of sealing the Keyhole? Had she chosen a side?

    He grit his teeth in anger and the electronics aboard the shuttle were suddenly scrambled. Lenora looked back at her Lord from the pilot's seat, and then looked away, forever remembering the moment when Darth Insipid had clenched the arms of his seat and allowed his veins to stick out on his neck.

    She would take the image of her Emperor's fear to her grave.

    --
    Flag Hangar

    The primary hangar would be used by Hell and Shadow Squadrons, and so Insipid appropriated the forward, smaller, hangar. It was nonetheless large enough for the shuttle's conveying his team up from the surface. He would be left with a trio of Skipray Z series blastboats and four missile-laden TIE Defenders.

    A single landing craft would act as base of operations for Esmerelda and Graul. Presumably the Jedi as well. Insipid had notified the light sider of where his hostage Chancellor would be by text message, and that he would consider making the Jedi a member of the new Imperial Guard if he successfully defended the Chancellor during this battle. Just one more chance for the Jedi to take back Aryan.

    The Emperor had requested a table with light refreshments set up in the middle of the hangar, but no chairs as this was not to be an idle chit-chat. The centre of the table was occupied by a holoprojector; a mission briefing was planned.

    Eventually they would arrive. A tangle of ships arrived, the hangar broad enough to allow for numerous entrants.

    Kronos and his lover were first, Esmerelda as ever looking furtively from one thing to another. It didn't seem consistent with the meek girl that Haretisch had been manipulating into being the sacrifice. But one supposed a near death betrayal would do that to someone. She caught the Emperor looking at her and stepped closer to Kronos, her expression part fear and part... Smugness? Did she sincerely think that Insipid was jealous of Kronos? Had she seen Ike?

    He turned his eye to the apprentices. They had arrived together and he expected that would have gone well. Invidius, Cocytus and Hekate had been separated from their masters, but the blind one... What was her name? Teafa? She was obviously paired with her master.

    All three would be part of his personal flight in the battle. Manticore had spoken highly of his Ssi-Ruuvi apprentice, and Insipid was deeply curious as to how he would perform. Insipid was inclined to send Hekate back to the Reunion, as it wasn't safe for just any apprentice. There was risk and then there was unnecessary risk and that girl was that. He would give her the chance to go.

    The 'Crew' were next; Anark, Ravenous and Hel, if only because he couldn't bring himself to break them apart. Camaraderie was hard to facilitate among Sith. Insipid was debating whether placing Kronos among them would reduce their efficiency.

    Similarly he was tempted to cut Kronos loose.

    As the Jedi and Chancellor arrived independently, Radian would receive a heavily encrypted message via his flagship, which was holding in Moraband orbit.

    EN ROUTE. KEEP YOUR COMLINK OPEN. MASTERS DRACO AND T'TKURA. MYNOCK.

    Insipid - and everyone, for that matter - would hear the ping of the message but the Emperor would affect an air of disinterest. The Chancellor needed a personal touch, but the hostage angle was working very well. Once they had won, Insipid would spend some time giving the Chancellor what he had been promised; real power. The Emperor had no reason to deny his word when it was over. Insipid might even go into stasis for a few decades and let someone else do the legwork. It would be useful for the Jedi to be to hand so see the necessity of what the Sith were doing - and Insipid had little doubt that he would require a Jedi to surpass some of Mortis' tests.

    His eyes slid to Teafa. He had nearly thought about his last visit to Mortis in her presence. Insipid had heard that the woman might recognise his benefactors true name, uttered once by Darth Malkuth, before his untimely demise. Not because she knew it, but because she was connected to someone, far in the future, who had known it, vicariously. And that was too big a risk for him.

    The Emperor pressed a button beside him and the Mortis Monolith appeared. 'Mortis. All of you were advised to review what data we had about the Monolith, and I hope you did.'

    What little data they had was distilled to an interpretation of the visit Skywalker, Tano and Kenobi had made to this place a hundred and seventy years ago, drawn from interviews and tertiary sources for the purposes of an animated adventure made by some twit obsessed with the Clone Wars that some Chadra Fan director Da-Vefil-Oni had commissioned. Bothersome, but Oni was renowned for his research faculties and was generally considered to have presented his show as historically accurate, save for a handful continuity errors which were still up for debate.

    If anyone actually cared about the fate of Evan Piell or the intricacies of Mandalorian politics and succession. Especially when the Mandalorians didn't care, it was moot.

    An aside.

    Insipid continued. 'With Hell and Shadow Squadrons, as well as three other squadrons which will not include any Sith, we shall be advancing em masse on Mortis. By the time we arrive the lock on the realm will be opened, granting us access. Mortis is dislocating. You will individually need to defeat visions of the future, the past, lies and truths. If you cannot, you will be stuck in the void between worlds and it will not be pleasant.' He eyed them each, looking for signs of uncertainty.

    'Targets to secure will be the Son's Citadel, overlooking the Well of the Dark Side, and the Father's Temple. The Daughter's... Whatever it is, I care not for. We are not working for it. The Final Keyhole is in the depths of the Well, and that is where Hell Squadron is going once we have done our part. Our job, as Blade Squadron, is to secure the Sons Citadel so we have a position of strength by the are. Shadow Squadron will fly top-cover.'

    Insipid allowed the map to show the lava strewn Well. 'We have no idea as to what defences will be left behind. It might be nothing, it might be a complex Celestial trick or some kind of reanimated golem. But we have to stay on our toes. We have the most dangerous aspect of the mission but it is all feint; we are to draw whatever defences there are to the Citadel and away from the Well.'

    'Understood?'

    Darth Insipid nodded.

    The Chimaera shuddered, and it jumped into hyperspace.

    TAG: WookieeRage, Darth Kronos, Lady Belligerent, A Blind Prophet, Snokers, Darth_Elu, Nehru_Amidala, HanSolo29, ConservativeJedi321, Darth Cocytus


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