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Game ⚜️ Knights of the Eternal Empire: The True Sith Trials ⚜️

Zareel Jhenan´doka

Well-known member
IC: Apprentice Zareel Jhenan'doka
Location: Leaving the Training Room, Korriban

She was unsure for how long she walked, her eyes were down only following the masters who were walking ahead and moved mostly by ear. Her head was elsewhere, somehow the whole situation seemed odd to her.

She turned on her heel to look around the banquet hall; she had innocently considered the possibility of seeing a familiar face among the gathered, perhaps even stealing something from a table if she happened to pass close to one. But no, no food near her hands and no gossip. Everyone had crowded towards the entrance, though it didn't look like anything horrendous was happening, at least not yet. A floor permanently free of bloodstains didn't seem too plausible.

Each footstep echoed in the apprentice's head as they descended further into the tunnels; only for a moment two silhouettes caught her attention - They're not stealing from me, so who cares? - However, it seemed to her that they must be part of those who were supposed to be at the banquet. What were they doing there? Was it all over far quicker than expected?

What little or nothing about politics she knew was that it didn't end soon or end nicely. Something in her stomach twisted almost painfully. They had arrived, but she couldn't help thinking they shouldn't be there, not now. Nervousness had caused her to ignore even the unpleasant smell in the dungeons.

Again, that almost automatic feeling. Ermir had barely opened the door and Zareel almost stepped back before she remembered the orders which had led her there.

All her life it had been like this; that feeling that told her to run when she should run, strike when she should strike, obey when she should obey. It was how she had managed to remain alive.

The apprentice advanced silently and took one of the masks in her hands, stroking its surface and examining it carefully before even attempting to put it on.

The primal instinct that her race was said to depend on had been screaming for hours and she cursed herself for not having listened to it.

She had only covered her head and was struggling with the key when a familiar sound caught her attention followed by her master's voice.

"Zareel, I'm sorry, Apprentice, this isn't working out. It's time we talked about where you're going from here. Come to the courtyard; meet me with Lord Kain."

In a sudden movement, she ripped off her mask and walked swiftly to the door but when she heard the voices of the masters outside, she slowed down. Master Xiannar, he sounded concerned; you're not the only one, she wanted to tell him.

“Something isn't right here. I think we are very much in danger, Ermir. Tell me you felt that, just now. We need to proceed very carefully.”

That only comment increased her discomfort to the point of near nausea. Her heart pounded as she crossed the doorway and the words flooded into her mouth and Zareel had to focus fully to speak firmly and clearly. "Overseer Ermir, Master Xiannar, I am sorry but I must depart; I have been summoned by my master, Lord Catalyst, on matters of my future.” Her nervous gaze moved from one face to the other, lingering especially on Xiannar; perhaps his own concern would prove her forebodings right, perhaps they should all get out of there as quickly as possible… Perhaps her master was simply going to drop her, and that was the best-case scenario.

Though Zareel was not known for her optimism, she hoped she was just overthinking.


TAG: @Keres Dymos @skira @Loharr Talem @Kielor @Nacros_Telcontare @Darth Dreadwar @Voidwalker @Hadzuska_The Jester @Undying Master Xiannarr @Catalyst
 

Cardun Vrek

Legendary Member
Moderator
Jedi Council
IC: Darth Mavros

Outer Courtyard, Temple of the New Sith Order, Korriban

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

Almost ready. Soon you will be mine.

The spell was almost ready to use. Mavros took one last quick glance around the assembled Sith. Darth Thana was looking his way, and copying the movements he himself had been making. She seemed to be attempting the same spell, though he could not be sure who her target was.

For goodness sake, Thana. Have an original idea for once in your life.

This complicated things. But the two factions forming around Viscretus and Hesper seemed poised for battle, even as Empress Viscretus attempted to adjourn to a private setting to discuss...what? Mavros didn’t know. And that annoyed him. Viscretus expects loyalty, but she hasn’t told us everything. But she was the most viable option, and he had come too far now to throw everything away. Kriff whatever Thana is doing. I have my own plans. He was just about to utter the incantation to complete his spell when Lady Apollyon cried out. He looked up.

What in chaos is that?

Time seemed to stand still. A ship. No, not one, several, and more, and more, hovering menacingly above the Sith. But, how? They were like no ships Mavros had ever seen; dark pyramids with no visible engines, hanging ominously as if suspended by invisible strings held by a cruel puppet master. By all laws of physics, they shouldn’t have been able to fly.

But they were.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His whole body tensed. His breathing became rapid as his heart began to pound with fear. All thoughts of completing the spell vanished from his mind, replaced by an oppressive, crushing feeling of utter despair. He strained to take his eyes off the strange and terrifying fleet forming up in the sky, looking around at his fellow Sith.

They’re afraid. I’m afraid.

I NEED TO GET OFF THIS PLANET.

NOW.

He shook his head, it felt as if someone had thrust a dagger into his skull. He saw himself dying, horrifically, over, and over, and over again. Pull yourself together, you fool. You’re not dead yet.

He took a gulp of air, and drew on the force to try to shield his mind. The Empress was trying to rally the crowd, warning of their impending doom, and urging them to abandon the system to these new enemies. She seemed afraid, they all did. The most powerful Sith of the age were running scared. Whoever these new enemies were, they were beyond their power.

I should’ve stayed away. No...she should’ve warned us.

He could only hope the Empress had a good reason for failing to warn her followers about what they were facing. But now, her behaviour made more sense. She had spared the Federation leaders for this. These...could he even call them ships? They were the reason, along with whatever monstrosities were piloting them. If there even were pilots. Were the ships sentient? Nothing made sense.

I NEED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

The Empress approached him, and it took a great deal of effort to hide his fear from her.
“Mavros, Solus, gather as many younglings as you can manage. Bring them to the hangars. My council, and Lords of the Empire, you will go the same to the hangars and await me there.”

Kriff the younglings, we need to go now.

He did not dare utter this aloud, instead he bowed his head, knowing that this was not the time to argue. He had a brief thought of making a run for the Dark Wind, but as he stole a quick glance up towards the skies to look again at those...things, he knew that it would be useless. There were far too many.
“Of course, your Majesty. As you wish.” He reached for his lightsaber with a slightly trembling hand, removing the hilt from his belt. His hand steadied as it wrapped around the familiar grip, and he turned to face Lord Solus, who had been ordered to go with him.

“My Lord, we must move quickly. I don’t think we have much time.”

Everyone was moving frantically now. Some seemed poised to fight, others seemed ready to flee. Lightsabers began to ignite, and with a hiss, Mavros’ own crimson blade joined them, ready for whatever came next.

They needed to get the hell off of this planet.

Power use Cancelled:
Qâzoi Kyantuska (3)

Power Attempted:
Mental Shield (3)

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar @Admiral Volshe @Darth Kain @Darth Nathemus @Darth Xirr @Darth Solus @DarthNoxia @Drakul_Xarxes @Jihadi Quartz @Helkosh @G.Kn @Reatith Blodraald @Darth Thana @Sith_Imperios @DarthFeros @Darth Xxys @Volacius, @Metus, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Arach
 
Last edited:

Xuul Zephyrot

Active member
IC: Senec Tinople
Location: The Vapid, bound for Coruscant

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

The very fabric of the galaxy roiled in indigo chaos before Senec Tinople’s eyes.

Incomprehensible to all but the most advanced lightspeed researchers, dangerously mesmerizing to any who dared stare into its heart, hyperspace, Senec mused, remained the great mystery at the center of galactic civilization. A necessity for galactic government, a seeming impossibility by scientific standards, an alluring call to all who sailed the stars, hyperspace defied all definition, rejected reason. Every important civilization from the past few hundred thousand years had access to lightspeed, yet even now, still no one fully understood it. It was mundane and everday, had been for millennia. Yet at the same time, there is something novel and terrifying about it every time a spacer looks out into the great unknown. Any who dare understand it better or to uncover its secrets inevitably go mad. It is best not to question it, to simply accept, in the end, that every being who seeks the stars is a slave to the mysterious thrall of hyperspace, an insignificant pawn staring into the face of eternity, drawn ever deeper into its infinite abyss, from which comes a sweet siren song, impossibly alluring, bidding all beings to come and-

“5 standard minutes until arrival at Coruscant. All assault personnel, prepare to attack. Repeat, all assault personnel, prepare to attack.”

Senec flinched, taking an unsteady step back from the viewport and tearing his eyes away from the eternal abyss of hyperspace. A jagged bolt of pain tore through his back, and he grunted, leaning harder on his cane, hand digging into the gold pommel as he struggled to control the familiar throb, a decades-old wound still crippling him, tying him to this cane. His shattered back was the very picture of Senec’s being, an age-old reminder of the day he should have died, saved from oblivion only by preternatural reflexes, digging his talons into the great Massassi pyramid as he hurtled towards the ground. His back was forever ruined. But he owed a debt to the Force too great to pay, for it had saved his life.

He took a deep breath, his eyes once more adjusting to the harsh lighting of the ready room, the eerie call of the unknown fading in his ears, replaced with the drums of war. He shook his head, clearing the stars from his eyes, then busied himself with preparations, meaningless tasks, his mind elsewhere, remembering why he was here and how ridiculous the whole situation was.

By the moons of Tython, what am I doing here?

The Caamasi’s internal turn of phrase had not merely been fanciful. Senec had literally been by the moons of Tython, on the planet itself, when he had been summoned to rendezvous with the Vapid. The relative inaccessibility of the Deep Core meant that Tython, more than a hundred other historically significant worlds, was relatively untouched. “Relatively untouched,” of course, meant that its ancient Jedi structures had endured hundreds of thousands of years of assault, both by sentients and by nature itself. In Senec’s line of work, however, he had learned to accept the inexorable entropy of the galaxy and make the best of it.

And what a best Tython was! Senec’s mind jumped in excitement for the hundredth time at the thought of the fascinating archeological dig that was underway there, a team of Sith researchers working determinedly to uncover every last secret the world had to offer. The remains of Jedi holy sites across the strange landscape, and that mysterious chasm . . . Senec shivered with pleasure at the thought. Even being in such a junior position among the Sith, he had applied as a chief researcher at the site, was waiting any day for what would surely be a favorable response, decades of experience not going to waste. Til then, he was content to assist where he could with the tentative explorations, all the while staring out at the dangerous landscape spread before him, full of dark secrets just waiting to be discovered and-

But, of course, Senec slowly returned to reality once more. He was on Tython no more. Instead, he was on a ship of war, accompanying a task force on a mission to relieve beleaguered Imperial forces at the former galactic capital of Coruscant.

What am I doing here?

His feathers had reflexively ruffled in alarm at the trance-breaking klaxon, and he worked to smooth them, mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. Senec was no warrior; he knew that. He was a Sith, true, and all Sith must be prepared for battle, but even his training hardly prepared him to serve as a soldier on the front lines! But he knew, of course, why he had been called. The Imperial task force had no special reason for calling him, did not require his special expertise, only needed whoever was closest to the battlefield to report for duty for Coruscant's last push.

So here the aged Caamasi was, taking apart his cane to make sure his hidden lightsaber pike was in good working condition, firmly cinching his dark robes with a combat-ready belt. Another jolt of pain sent agony through his back as he bent over his equipment, and he bit back a noise of incoherent rage, channeling the frustration of everything into new strength: the endless struggle to stand and keep moving, the annoyance of being torn away from his work, the dread that bubbled in his stomach at the prospect of the battle to come.

“Two minutes until arrival at Coruscant. Prepare for takeoff.”

Time to go.

With a grimace, Senec hastily rebuilt his cane and strode to the door, no more glances spared to the viewport, his mind now only focused on what was to come. Stepping outside the ready room, he put on an air of strength, strode through the hangar, the taps of his cane lost in overwhelming clamor as techs, mechanics, and soldiers raced around the hangar in their last-minute preparations. Senec had already been assigned to a ship, his duty already made clear to him by an Imperial officer. He remembered how strangely the officer looked at him, a perplexing sight for anyone to see: a Caamasi working for the Sith. His kind were legendary for their diplomacy, their soft, yet compelling, words seeking to bring the galaxy together in peace. Senec shared his species’ love of research and history, yet he held nothing but contempt for their pacifistic ways.

The pacifistic government that had once supported Caamas was now in tatters, and Senec had arrived to sound the death knells on the last choked cries of resistance.

He stepped into the assault transport, a terse nod to the pilot, who paid little attention to him as he prepped his ship for descent into a war zone. With an agility that seemed contradictory to his age and disposition, Senec slipped through the body of the ship and into one of the gunner pods. The Imperial officer had walked him through the gunner systems with a bemused expression, but the directions were clear enough.

“Point and shoot.”

Even a doddering old fowl like him ought to be able to do that, right? Senec chuckled as he stowed his cane and settled into the seat. The Imperial officer could laugh at Senec all he liked, but he was unaware of the great reserves of power within the unassuming alien.

The ship shuddered slightly as the voice of the deck officer once more rung through the hangar, “We have arrived at Coruscant. Prepare to begin assault.”

Senec watched the hangar doors slide open ponderously, still working to transform his trepidation into resolve. Ships across the hangar rose in a delicate dance as fighters, transports, and assault ships wove around each other to exit in an organized formation of pure power. The acceleration of the transport pushed Senec back into his chair, and as they exited the Vapid, Senec rotated his gunnery pod to watch the Star Destroyer recede into the distance.

Except it didn’t really recede. The Caamasi had been too absorbed in his own aggravation to look out the viewport while being shuttled from Tython to the Vapid. Now his eyes widened at the sheer scale of the capital ship. It was massive, bigger than any ship Senec had ever seen, like an ancient superweapon of the Rakatans or something similarly sinister. Even as they plummeted towards Coruscant’s upper atmosphere, the Super Star Destroyer seemed to loom just as near as when they first exited it, the ship casting an ominous shadow across the blanket of sickly yellow clouds beneath them.

Then they were plunged into a yellow fog that whipped around the gunnery pod until they arrived beneath the cloudscape. Senec’s stomach dropped. The sensation of sitting in a transparisteel sphere suspended miles above the planetary surface was already jarring enough. If that had not been enough, though, the view that spread before the fleet of reinforcements nearly defied description.

Coruscant was in ruins.

Senec had heard of the devastation that the Yuuzhan Vong had inflicted on Coruscant, had heard too of the havoc and bloodshed that the Sith had unleashed on the Federation Senate and government not long ago. But seeing it with his own eyes was something completely different. Toppled cloudcutters dotted the urban landscape, and what skyscrapers still stood smoldered with countless blackened wounds. The skies were empty of traffic, an eerie sight, a city void of any citizens, abandoned by its populace, now only home to grimly entrenched armies and the crazed resistance that struggled against them.

His pilot’s voice crackled in his headphone comm, “Ready to kill some rebels?”

Senec laughed humorlessly, “As much as I’ll ever be, pilot.”

The horde of Imperial ships descended like a swarm, and Senec could already see transports landing, troops frantically offloading heavy equipment and firing into the smog that pervaded every surface of the great city. The MAAT descended to skim along a shattered cloudcutter, and a flicker of movement caught Senec’s eye, a line of speeder bikes cutting through the mist, a black-clad Sith leading the charge. The Caamasi couldn’t help but be bolstered by the inspiring sight, his heart surging with bloodthirsty enthusiasm. These rebels, whoever they were, couldn’t stand a chance against the might of an Imperial task force with Sith to lead them.

The shattered cloudcutter disappeared behind them, and the gunship dropped abruptly. Senec stifled his queasiness as a battle-scarred city walk came into view, an ongoing battle evidently raging in the no man’s land in between. As they swooped, Senec squinted down, finding the Imperial line, smiling as he watched one officer point, and several more troopers turn to gaze and cheer at the reinforcements. Bodies littered the ground, but those who remained looked battle-hardened and formidable. He watched a couple red lightsabers twinkle through the fog, flourishing into a gesture to charge, each wielded by imposing Sith clad in battle armor. And in the distance, he could already see the desperate resistance forces turning to flee in terror. Senec felt a wave of satisfaction as he powered up the turret and aimed at the backs of the retreating rabble.

Warrior or not, today is going to be a good day.

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar @Kint Dranlor @Rayge @Dorrian Shadowsun @Oberleutnant Deleritas
 
IC: Darth Deleritas

Vapid, Desrini District, Coruscant



Putting his natural tendencies aside and recognizing the gravity of the situation, Deleritas understood that throws of war made a more conventional approach a necessity. In this particular instance, he wouldn’t be able to creep through the shadows and silently dispose of a target, that may come later. Despite his heart yearning for a different approach, Deleritas raced off with a company of Sith troopers through the corridors of the super star destroyer to gather in the hangar area. His heart pounded and adrenaline coursed through his veins as his feet slammed against the durasteel floor. His breathing was heavy but controlled as the thrill of the fight began to fill his lungs replacing oxygen and fueling his soul. Lengthening his strides, he came to a halt in Hangar AT5T and stood in awe of the equipment that awaited them. Fighters, transports, speeder bikes, and bombers alike were all ready and pre-inspected for the reinforcements to join the troops already on the ground.

“Give me 25 on those bikes with me, we are the tip of the spear if we are going to break through the enemy lines.”

Robes rippling behind him as Deleritas ran for the bikes, the thunder of white boots behind him ensured that the stormtroopers had heeded his command. Swinging one leg over and gripping the handlebars, his knuckles went white with desire. Excitement swelled in his chest, his eyes gleamed in anticipation from behind the crimson lenses of his mask, and he awaited the all-clear from the hangar tower to tell his team that they were a go. Periodic announcements from the tower told everyone on the floor how far they were from the planet. ’30 minutes…20 minutes…10 minutes.’ Looking to his left and to his right, white armor with black trim shone in the fluorescent light. Each helmeted soldier was prepared to die for their cause, but Deleritas hoped to get each of them through this battle in one piece; one great leader had said, “No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making some other poor, dumb bastard die for his country.” Keeping that at the forefront of his mind, Deleritas instructed the troopers to join Deleritas in loading the bikes onto one of the troop transports. Each transport could house 20 bikes and their riders. Every bike was then loaded onto the transports in preparation for deployment.

Over the loudspeaker came a voice, “T-minus 10 minutes.” Engines roared in deafening angst as their exhausts wailed inside of the transport. Troopers flicking their wrists and causing the engines to scream with glee. Deleritas closed his eyes and used the remainder of his time to meditate on the battle to come. They would be victorious…

The lights in the transport suddenly changed from a soft, white glow to a bright, flashing green.

“We have arrived at Coruscant. Prepare to begin assault.”

The alarms screeched and there were cheers that emanated through the transports and hangar alike as the realization swept through the soldiers like a wave crashing against the spires on Kamino, that the time had come. The hangar doors slid open revealing the chaos of battle below and Deleritas observed, firsthand, just how dire the situation was. From above, Deleritas could see lasers ripping through the air dropping rebels, Sith, and stormtroopers alike. Explosions tore chunks of permacrete and durasteel from the ground and threw them into the air. Narrowly missing some and crushing others beneath their weight. “Now! Let’s go!” Deleritas screamed. His voice brutish and labored from behind his mask and his transport led the deployment to the planet below.

One by one and line by line, each vehicle did the same. Fighters, bombers, and transports poured from the hangar like bile from the gaping maw of a bantha. With an incredible amount of grace, the pilot of Deleritas’ transport flew through the confusion as blaster fire whizzed past their ship and rockets detonated against its outer shell. Flak erupted all around, shaking the transport during its descent and leaving black smoke where fiery flowers had once been. Bringing the transport down on the upper deck, the loading ramp slowly descended. Deleritas and his troopers edged forward. Bloodlust burning in their souls as the gap between ramp and ground slowly decreased. Deleritas could wait no longer, ripping open the throttle with a sharp twist of his wrist, Deleritas soared through the gap and sailed to the deck below. Screeching to a sudden halt at the deck railing, Deleritas raised a gloved fist in a victorious cry. Troopers spilled over the edge in a waterfall of power and rage. Deleritas joined in the fray, squeezing the triggers on his handlebars to unleash volleys of suppressing fire on the rebels, affording the Sith an opportunity for maneuver. Reaching up with one hand, he flicked through comm channels searching for one that might be of use to him. So much static and so little time. Bodies dropped lifelessly all over the war-torn surface of Coruscant and Deleritas peppered the enemy trenches with red blaster fire. Finally coming across a channel that had a steady stream of frantic chatter, Deleritas said calmly, “The cavalry has arrived, who’s in charge here?”

The voices halted immediately and he heard no response. Swerving, dipping, and dodging all manner of bodies, projectiles, and vehicles, Deleritas searched for direction. “All stations this net, all stations this net. This is Deleritas, I need a SITREP time now.”

@Darth Dreadwar @Kint Dranlor @Rayge @Dorrian Shadowsun @Senec Tinople
 

...

Well-known member
Immortalis
Darth Cruor
Bestiary, Wrath of Vader

Teraktassi bowed. “Let justice be done upon the enemy, and may the Dark favour your greatness in our hour of triumph.” He said as he turned and exited the bestiary. The ever present cold that clung to Darth Cruor had brought a chill to the room, though you could see the steamy breath of Draa’zekyl when he exhaled the cold did not bother the Star Dragon. With more agility than should be possible for a being of his size, armored as he was, the Dark Lord climbed and situated himself just behind the front shoulders of the dragon.

The Dark, few served it as he did. The battle-scarred mask that adorned his face betrayed no expression, no remorse, just empty black voids where his eyes should be staring forward as his mind replayed the final moments of an untold number of individuals, the bloody annihilation of armies, the fall of civilizations, and the death of entire worlds. The face of a child, her eyes wide with terror and streaming with tears a nightmarish apparition murderer first her entire family, then finally her as well. A Jedi who had sworn loyalty to Lord Hoth and came to fight the Sith upon Ruusan, it’s scream of horror cut short as it was left broken in his passing. He remembered each one, and a million more. It was his curse, to carry their memories of those he had destroyed in his soul, just as he was cursed to suffer the burden of the ruin which came to his own people.

All in service of “The Dark”. It was inescapable.

Draa’zekyl shifted below him impatiently, he wanted to fly again, he longed to hunt again. It was as eager as it’s rider, sensing the time was near he flexed his wings one more time, it’s mouth parting a deafening roar filled the chamber. Called out of his revelry, Darth Cruor felt the approaching storm as well and leaned low and clung securely to Draa’zekyl.

Any moment now reinforcements would arrive, and the Taral would be their herald.

Tag:
@Darth Dreadwar
 

Dorrian Shadowsun

Active member
IC: Dorrian Shadowsun
Trenches, Desrini District, Coruscant


Dorrian smiled at the first wave of carnage he was able to inflict on the Republic troops, his joy however was short-lived as the Padawan that stood before him had not fallen so easily. Dorrian's crimson eyes locked on his target as he prepared to engage him directly, he instead felt the familiar touch of the Force. This Padawan was not going to give him a moment's pause, nor should he. He knew he couldn't avoid the attack entirely so instead he opted for a maneuver his father had used when he was young. He intended to dart in one direction, rolling away from the main part of the attack to regroup and attack from the side, hopefully catching his still opponent distracted from the pain of his vocal assault and their focus on their attack.

His Tollere tabard fluttered lightly as he made his decision, committing to it fully. Republic blood would stain the ground and him before the day ended. HIs thoughts were never as clear as they were at this moment. Only in the heat of battle, in the thick of enemies did he feel at home.

All will fear me! All will fall before my might!

He hadn't the time to tell the troopers to unblock the tunnel to allow backup through now, so instead, he hoped they would survive long enough for him to defeat the Padawan and keep any other distractions off his back.

Curse this Padawan for not falling. If they want a fight, they shall have one!

Digging his heels in and leaping to his left and toward the Padawan, pushing with his immense strength and adding what he could from the Force, he rolled to avoid the brunt of the attack, sliding to the side. With the distance now closed greatly, he released his glaive from his back, swinging it mightily at his opponent hoping to gut or cleave him entirely in a single move. The sounds of battle roared around him as he smiled, the faint sound of fighters barely tugged upon his ears, as did the faint sound of reinforcements coming through his comm. He ignored them all to focus on the task at hand. He wanted this Padawan to suffer and for the Republic troops behind him to run screaming from the Demon of House Tollere.

Force Powers:
Force Reflex - 2


@Darth Dreadwar @Kint Dranlor @Oberleutnant Deleritas @Rayge @Senec Tinople
 

Darth Thana

Active member
IC: Darth Thana, Dread Master Of The Kissai

Execution Grounds, Sith Temple, Korriban

The precise movement of her hands in the way they needed to as the Zabrak Master kept her eyes on the human's position like a predator tracking it's prey. Her mouth uttering the incantation,

"Qâzoi Kyantuska..." Again her hands shifted in the matter they needed to.

"Qâzoi Kyantuska..."

The Dread Master's eyes shifted from the lovely amethyst color to a darker Obsidian as the fears were running wild, such the Yelling and the fear started to gain traction like a runaway speeder. Volshe began to yell out of danger coming as shadows loomed down from the skies above, Which took away Thana's concentration.

Giant Holocron looking ships she could guess appeared from the sky and seemed to multiple, a few when she had first looked up then thousands started to pour into the sky above like a nightmare. She had not idea who or what it was but none of the higher ups seemed like it was part of the plans, they all looked scared and angry. The negative emotions confirmed her suspicions as they began to pour into her body filling her with power for use either now or later.

She turned just in time to see the Lord Xarxes join Lady Hesper and her people, Thana needed to figure out what to do or risk being left to defend herself against whatever will come from the ships above. Thana Attempted to use the force to send a message to Skyllan to join up with them. Volshe only wanted to save the young, lords and her people so there was no reason to protect or follow her.

" Skyllan, I wish to join you and serve Lady Hesper."

Hoping that her thoughts would reach their mind as a way to follow what seemed like the correct Sith at this point.

Power Uses:

Qâzoi Kyantuska -4 (Cancelled)
Feed On Dark Side -3
Telepathy -4

@Darth Dreadwar , @Arach , @dragonsith13 , @Grievance Vexx , @corinthia , @Drakul_Xarxes , @G.Kn , @Admiral Volshe , @Darth Kain , @Hadzuska_The Jester , @Darth Nathemus , @Darth Xirr , @Darth Solus , @DarthNoxia , @Jihadi Quartz , @Voidwalker , @Helkosh , @Reatith Blodraald , @Sith_Imperios , @Cardun Vrek , @DarthFeros , @Darth Xxys , @Metus , @Catalyst , @Nacros_Telcontare
 

Darth Cold

Well-known member
Moderator
Dark Council
IC: Hadzuska

Passageway, Sith Temple, Korriban


They had made it out of the banquet hall and into a stairway. For a moment he thought someone was about to die as an overseer came into the passage, but it was not going to happen after all as he weaved around them and exited through another door. The man seemed frustrated, but Hadzuska had to admit that he would be as well if he had to deal with more than one moronic piece of filth on a daily basis for a living.


Suddenly the holocron came to life and a brown-haired woman’s visage came to life. Just as it’s prim and proper voice began to ring, something strange happened, and he was no longer where he was. He was now looking into a mirror, and he was now a female pure blooded Sith, as made obvious by her portfolio which was as clothed as the day she was born. Then another pure blooded Sith man approached her from behind as she combed her hair, and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.


In a deep gentle voice he speaks. “My love, my father has summoned me.” As she stands his hands slide to her waist, placing one over her belly. “I hope to introduce you to him soon, and gain his blessing. One more kiss for the road?


She turns to him and kisses him deeply, slipping a cyanide pill that had been hidden in her tooth from her mouth to his, sending it down his throat with a gentle but focused telekinetic push, all done unnoticed due to the passion of the kiss. As they parted from the kiss she turned back to the mirror and said with heavy breath, “It is done my Master.


The mirror turns to a window as a human woman makes herself known. “Well done my apprentice, you have done your task almost perfectly.


The man recognized her immediately as his stepmother. “What are you doi---” He pauses as he grabs his throat whilst beginning to foam at the mouth.


As life begins to fade from his eyes, the new woman begins to monologue to him. “I’m sorry my dear, you were a good son by all means, but you weren’t mine. My bloodline must take over the family legacy and with you, my husband’s first born and only child that he had with his whore first wife gone, I shall finally get what I want.


The man reaches out to his lover hoping to feel the warm embrace of her love one last time only to die disappointed. The red skinned woman kneels before her Master as the vanity table slides to the side to reveal a passageway that the older woman exits from. “What is thy bidding my Master?” She asks, trying to mask the fear within her. Maybe her Master wouldn’t know the truth.


As I said earlier my apprentice, you did your task almost perfectly. However as I said to my late stepson, my lineage must prevail, not that whore’s. Which brings me to another delicate matter.” The apprentice began to feel her throat close up out of nowhere. “You bear his child. You tried to make my lineage obsolete. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” The apprentice rises from the ground. “And for me to have what I want, you have to die.” The apprentice is gripping her own throat gasping for air. “It does sadden me. I thought we had something special, you and I. Almost akin to friendship. If you hadn’t turned on me, together we could have risen far, maybe even perhaps joined the Dark Council. But alas that will not happen.” The apprentice is launched out the window of the tower, any hope of possibly surviving the fall dashed as a metal spike from the fence surrounding the fortress goes through her heart.


Hadzuska comes out of the memory as if no time had passed at all. “Malak tells me they were seeking a greater threat, Lord Revan and he," the prim, proper voice of Bastila Shan rang out in the hallway without preamble, drawing the glares of attentive students in the classrooms on either side. "He said they had encountered a vanguard... Strange crimson sorcerers on Tund, a foul force led by an insane Emperor on Dromund Kaas, an academy on Malachor V that hungered like a living thing, that hungered like the Star Forge hungers. He said they all served a lord, a lord before whom kings and emperors bow."


The hologram wavered, and Bastila's voice briefly warped to a guttural depth. "He said the Star Forge is the legacy of the Builders, but if these... primitive amphibians were the Builders, who were its Architects?"


As the hologram finished speaking, Hadzuska figured that was all that was on the holocron. Letting go of his side he turned and ran from the Lord that he had been working with. As he ran he called back, “I got what I wanted, and we are free from the banquet hall. Soooo you got this from here. Byyyeee!” He continued to run, now searching for a library, hoping to find more information to make sense of what he just heard. Star Forge? Builders? Then he felt a new darkness, through the Force. The hell are these imbeciles doing now? He wondered of the congregation outside.




Tag: @skira , @Loharr Talem, @Undying Master Xiannarr , @Keres Dymos , @Nacros_Telcontare , @Kielor , @Zareel Jhenan´doka , @Darth Dreadwar, @Voidwalker
 

dragonsith13

Emissary of Death
Moderator
Immortalis
Draconis
Sith Temple grounds ~ Korriban


A noticeable tension permeated the valley as the posturing of the gathered continued. Everything was balanced on a knife edge that was poised to slice through all of the calls of warning, ceremony, and whatever vaulted reasons each side clung to. It was expected. The lilith woman was keen on imposing herself on the situation, as she took dominion over the prisoners, drawing them under her care and protection for the moment.

His vision was becoming less blurry as the darkside coursed through his body, expelling the toxins and poisons that had been continuously being pumped into his system. Hesper’s order for the black clad armored woman and cybernetic beast with reptilian eyes to manage him rolled around in his head as the two of them continued to stand idly by - observing him and deciding whatever was to be done with him. The cybernetic beast reached forward with one of his talon-like claws. Grasping the cable and slowly bringing it under his charge as an offer for assistance was put forth to Draconis from the cyborg and his resources. There was no reaction from the chained one as he did so, aside from the continued slow scanning of the crowd and surroundings. There was a surge in the force that flowed over everything. Permeated everything. The valley was instantly saturated in a dark malign aura. The grounds of the temple and valley rose with a fever pitch of indecision that was quickly replaced with fear. The posturing and pontificating ceased. The calls for a detente to retire to more calm chambers and discussion vanished. The imposing wills and stern posturing melted away amongst the Sith as they struggled to comprehend what was transpiring. The masses originally huddled in their own self-adulation began to scatter like spider-roaches in the light. The Sith began to break apart save several of the more powerful and willful gathered that were able to cling to some reason and sanity.

Draconis’ eyes looked skyward, his head cocked slightly as he gazed upon the black pyramidal shape that was hanging in the sky and the countless others that surrounded it. The force was screaming with no direction or cause. Lashing out in an unbridled and untamed manner as it continued to wash over the valley and world itself. Amid the chaos there was a call to follow issued from the same lilith woman, Viscretus. An ultimatum of sorts, to trust and follow or die. It seemed like a simple choice given the situation, though it seemed very arbitrary.

Draconis’ gaze fell away from the skyward monoliths to see the contingent of Hesperian guards armed with silver-bladed lightsaber pikes coalescing around their leader as she called out to the cyborg and black clad warrior to continue to contain him but not at the expense of their own defense. Why did she continue to play this game with him? Hesper. Draconis thought. He knew why. Did not blame her in fact. The third member of their party was becoming incensed with rage as she snarled at the skyward threat after Hesper had demanded she herself survive, the woman igniting her lightsaber and calling on the yet revealed full threat to face her.

The cyborg once again addressed him. “If you have a plan, Master, I am listening,“Otherwise, I am prepared to fight and act as your bodyguard. You are no prisoner to me and I will not let you die in captivity.” His attachment was curious. It was loyal and fierce. No sooner had he offered up his pitch to defend him, the black clad female warrior chimed in. Imparting that Draconis should make himself scarce, implying that she might not be able to stop him if he so chose. Their words were not lost on him, he simply just did not visibly respond.

The black-clad warrior spoke up thereafter to inform them of the plight of her apprentice on this world. Vowing with a stern resolve to ensure her apprentice is gathered. Someone was attempting to channel a force bond over many of the gathered, typical of the gathered to begin ramping up their senses and drawing upon their power. Dozens of them drawing up their skills and knowledge of the force in anticipation of a fight. The cyborg and black-clad warrior seemed poised to fight as well, the same with the fiery young woman Arach. Hesper had surrounded herself with her guards at what seemed to be an inevitable bloodbath.

While everyone continued to scramble and attempt to galvanize, Draconis crouched down. With his shackled hands he ran his fingers through the sand, soaked with the blood of countless beings over millennia. He continued to draw Korriban into him, as memories and knowledge of it flowed to the top of his mind. Like a drug it flowed up his spine, sending a slight chill up and down it. Taking a handful of the sand in one hand he raised it allowing it to flow out of his slightly clenched fist. Watching it as it fell back down to the valley floor, his mind and demeanor still seemingly content and calm despite the hell that chaos that was brewing.

"We should get going..." Draconis softly spoke. Addressing the entirety of the group. Hesper. Invadator. Vexx. Arach. Calmly implying that this was not the place that they wanted to be.

@Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @corinthia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Helkosh, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare


~ Darkside healing
 

DarthFeros

Active member
Moderator
Jedi Council
IC: Darth Krayt
Temple Courtyard
Korriban


A Beating of Shields

Krayt had every intention of leaving. He had nearly made it to the door when a wave of pure anguish and misery rolled through the Force and hit him like a sandcrawler. It turned his stomach and nearly buckled his knees.


He heard Apollyon croak out her question, and turned himself to look into the sky. They were unnatural, obscene even. Pyramids, like the ones ancient societies had long built to house their honored dead. But they were starships. Somehow, they suspended and propelled themselves.


He felt the fear boil around and through him. Everyone who seemed to know anything about them was terrified. Volshe seemed to be the most afeared of all, almost as though she knew what they were. Perhaps she did. She immediately started rallying her forces to evacuate. That didn't surprise him. What did was that the others agreed with her. And he couldn't blame them. Self preservation was the base instinct of every Sith. It was the prime directive.


"Well this is certainly an impasse isn't it?" He mused to himself. He needed to make a decision. But he refused to listen to the prattling of someone he'd so often seen sniveling and crying. Beings were all animals. And animals would always revert to their baser nature. So his decision was made. He would set aside differences and claims and cries of injustice for the time being.


"Smart choice. I'm surprised."


"Oh, you're complimenting me now? I haven't even chosen."


"Yes you have. And it's probably the best move you could make. They're still going to kill you, but you may live longer this way."



He didn't respond. Though, really, he never did. The voice was an echo in his mind from a trauma suffered by his new body. That was all. He wasn't about to signify that it was real. He'd done the transfer properly.


All the threat and fear and malice in the Force was starting to work its magic. He felt strong. A bit worried, yes. But strong. He was feeding off the pull of the Dark Side swirling around him like a storm on Ziost. He'd subconsciously brought his sabers to hand as he looked up at the streaking shapes in the sky. He wanted to fight. He'd wanted to fight since he had arrived.


And then the flash hit him. Chaos. Not the thing, or the act. The place. He could see it again. Pure torment. It was fear and pain and suffering and loathing and agony. These ships were just that. Chaos. There would be no great fighting here. They needed to escape and rally. He knew what this was, at least on the surface. This was a declaration. A banging of shields and blowing of horns. At the surface, this was War.


At any rate, Krayt had made his choice. It was time to announce himself and be counted on one side for the time being. "Wyyrlok, no harm will come to Lady Hesper's forces from us. Anyone who disobeys me on this will answer to me personally."


He moved a bit closer and called across the courtyard, where the Hesper and her allegiants had started to gather. They were all powerful, and some of them even piqued his curiosity. This had been the right choice.


"Lady Hesper, for the time being, whatever our differences, my forces are at your command. I'm sure you know well, I have probably the most powerful ship in this sector at the moment. We can worry about claims to the Throne later. You have knowledge of what's going on, so I'll levy my trust in you for the moment. Where do you need me?"


TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @Helkosh, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare, @corinthia
 

Jen'nu

Legendary Member
Moderator
Dark Council
Chapter II: The End Starts Now
Combo IC: Ānhrā Māhnîu & Darth Sedicious.
Location: Space above Korriban


Deities of Desolation:

There was a certain beauty in the technological elegance behind hyperspace. Enormous interstellar distances conquered by mental might and physical power. Those were the thoughts of Jen’nu as the points of pure life extended into lines of light. Yet it was not to last, for after but a single instance the imagery reversed.

The cockpit’s blast door slammed.
‘’What’s happening?’’ But no reply was required from 114D. The ship’s internal alarm rang through, the sensors showing ships appearing, seemingly from empty space. He groaned internally, was it truly this important for the squabbling self-servers on the surface to contain every creature in this system? And once again the question only sat in his mechanical mind for only a moment’s fraction, until he swung around to see a holographic projection of Sith Lords staring up in abject dread.


matt-needler-destiny-2-the-darkness-cometh-fan-art-by-firedragonmatty-dcnu521-1.jpg

Finally finding the ground to stare out the viewport, a mass of Stygian inky pyramids invaded his vision.
In the space of an infinitesimal infinity all he could do was stand transfixed in the throes of absolute terror. Even with the empyrean eyes of the Vong Yun’o all he saw was emptiness. A void so all-consumingly vast that it seemed to lustfully suck at his soul.
And he knew. Without any fragment of his brain registering activity, he knew. This was anathema: his ultimate enemy. The lacuna in which all life dies.
Ground Zero.
Ultimate Zero.
Past Death.
Nothingness beyond nothingness.

cf573179d2f778e5d25233a759fc95bf.jpgHe could feel the pain of living armor, now tearing through his flesh, organic fire flaming in his veins. Revulsive hatred enveloped his soul: a hypernova of loathing execration for the very space these things took up. It was an absolute abhorrence so almighty, rousing his own endless hunger for destruction. For an atomic instant he saw himself, shredding all of it subatomic particle from subatomic particle, taking it for his own, twisting it into himself.
The god of death and life.

‘’Hostiles! Hundreds of them!’’ Storming back into the troop compartment with a soul-shivering shout, he barked an order at Al’Zhaelor. In a single flowing movement the master villip was conjured and the devout Vong began giving orders.

17-game-of-thrones-eye-of-the-night-325x485.jpgDeep, panicking terror had been no true occasion in Sedicious’ life. How could he react but the way he had always done? From the smoke demon’s attack to the arcane gatekeeper that meant to rend and transfigure his mind with the most potent and all-consuming fear: suppress it, be mindful, and never stop moving.

The moment those sapphire stars laid their vision upon this fleet, this enemy spawned from some chaotic chasm of night, his inner war began. Tears borne of spasmodic horror threatened to flow freely and freeze on the gaunt flesh of his face, but his logical half fought valiantly, and pulled him into action. Drawing upon the gelid fear pulsating within every nerve, he visualized a shroud of illusion that concealed them from sight and sensor and began to weave into the fragile tapestry of reality. He needed to keep acting, to keep moving, to prevent slipping into a conscious rigor mortis.

His breath was rapid yet deep, a sign of anxiety. Unable to fully contain the boiling emotions, he did not speak but rather yelled:
‘’114D, move us into a safer position!’’ before swinging around.
‘’Ānhrā Māhnîu, I need to get into battle meditation!’’ His recipient was kneeling down on the floor, speaking into the holographic projection of the temple grounds. As he spoke, the images diverged, the bugs separating to maximize range.
‘’There will be no battle for us my dear Sedicious. Your life is rather precious to me and I’d rather not see you die, least of all pointlessly.’’ The Zabrak stopped for just a second, surprised by this sudden concern. The Jen’nu did not.

‘’We’re completely overmatched and caught in a gravity well, no hyperspace allowed. But we don’t seem to be moving towards them, meaning we shouldn’t be caught in a tractor beam. So unless the planet is surrounded completely and they’re micromanaging every bit of space, they shouldn’t have caught on to us. We’ll have to get out of range with sublight engines, assuming that’ll be possible. Does this thing have cloaking by any chance?’’
‘’I’m working on it.’’
‘’You may also want your big ship to open fire. That one is not getting away.’’ That instruction was not quite as puzzling, though still confusing. Cloaked, the Pallid Mask may yet survive, so Sedicious did not order a distraction. It was fortunate that he left his Sith Meditation Sphere hidden elsewhere, outside of the Korriban system.
‘’You don’t have a ship?’’
‘’I have a ship, and a fleet, and an army. On the other side of the galaxy. Who do you think he’s talking to?’’ he swung back, waving his hand in Al’Zhaelor’s direction as he barked an affirmative.
‘’It’ll take weeks for them to arrive. Korriban is already lost. We’ll continue to Dromund Kaas. That’s where we’ll need to get. The planet was mostly abandoned last I checked, it should be a safe hiding spot.’’ Sedicious ended up taking a moment to deliberate, ultimately ordering his cloaked pyramid ship to retreat.

There were still a few more things to be done however. With a string of guttural growling orders towards the master villip, the Khattazz’ orders to Lwhekk should be completed. The finalization of his preparations had now shot forward. That knowledge returned him grimly to his current objective. And so he knelt down next to Sedicious in a meditative rest and prepared an illusion of his own. Orbalisk chemicals inflamed his mind and body with agonizing strength, now was the time to use it. As one projection was weaved to physically cloak the ship, another was made to cloud any metaphysical perception. And finally he set his sights on another layer of protection. One hidden away in another realm of reality.

‘’114D, we’ll breach the perimeter and get out of here. Sublight engines, full speed ahead.’’



Powers used:
Battle Meditation - 4 (attempting to bolster his companions).
Sith Illusions - 4 (attempting to camouflage the TIE/rp).

Force Suppression - 4 (attempting to hide the TIE/rp from hostile Force senses).

Dimension Shift - 3 (attempting to summon two Talismans of Concentration).

(TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar)
 
Last edited:

Helkosh

Active member
IC: Darth Pravum

"I didn't expect that to happen, but now that it has, it's kind of hilarious." - Helkosh Yram, aged 12, upon squashing a veermok infant with a swoop bike.

"Woah...", he gasped aloud with wide blue eyes like a child witnessing murder, shock at the sheer mass of the approaching armada causing a momentary lapse in his carefully constructed devil-may-care attitude. Then he regained sense of reality, his eyes narrowing and his mouth snapping shut back to a snide smirk.

Volshe began to bark panicked orders to retreat, and the various assembled Lords and Ladies of the Sith began to do so. Pravum considered his options for a moment. There were three options that he could see, each with their own benefits and drawbacks.

He could make a run for his starship, a gleaming, chromium plated J-type star skiff, known more colloquially as a Nubian yacht, that glistened in the sunset. The pros were obvious: he'd be able to go wherever he wanted, and he'd have his IG-100 bodyguard, Sparky, to keep him company. The con? Pleasure crafts, in the general sense, weren't the best choice for evading thousand-strong fleets of strangely shaped alien starships. He and Sparky could make a dash for the other side of the planet, and try to find an opening in the sky there, but who was to say that they hadn't surrounded the entire atmosphere? Hell, who was to say they weren't covering every atmosphere on every world in every system? Were Naboo's pristine blue skies now dotted with menacing triangles? Were the twin suns of Tattooine blackened by pyramidal space ships?

No... Better to stick around with the other Sith. At least then he'd have an ally, or a meat shield, when conflict came. That meant going to the hangar, like Volshe had said to. Con, leaving Sparky behind. A priceless, top-of-the-line piece of protective technology, and perhaps the closest approximation Pravum had ever had of a friend. Another con, Pravum didn't know how to fly a starship. At least not well enough to escape the approaching fleet. He'd have to hope that not only was there a ship he could hop on and let someone else take the reins of, but also that whoever that person was was competent enough to escape, and trustworthy enough to not seize the opportunity to flush him out into the starry expanse.

There was a third option, a disturbing line of thought that Darth Pravum couldn't quite shake. Clearly the New Sith Order had now depreciated from fractured to crumbled. There was no loyalty to hold, only survival to find. Even if they did manage to regroup, if the mere sight of this enemy was enough to send the Sith into a frenzied retreat... Perhaps the safest choice would be to swear loyalty to the winning team. Instead of letting oneself be sacrificed, traded like a Grimtaash for a Ghhhk in a game of dejarik, one could simply switch sides. His brow furled, the stress of the decision that lay before him bringing on a headache. This choice had the best outcome if it worked. But it was too big a risk for even Pravum to stomach. He knew nothing about this army. Who was to say they wouldn't simply open fire before he had a chance to swear his loyalty?

"Oh, for kriff's sake.", he muttered under his breath, pulling his sleeve to his mouth and activating his holocomm. "Sparky. Come in, Sparky.", he said, greeted by frantic droidspeak. "You know where the hangar is, yes? Abandon ship and meet me there." Sparky began to chirp protest, but Pravum shut off the communicator before the droid finished. It was still risky. Sparky would have to travel considerably farther, which meant waiting around for a few minutes which could spell doom if the invaders landed quickly. But, it also meant a pilot he could trust, and protection from a backstabbing lesser. He set off in the direction Volshe had specified at the fastest pace he could manage.

TAGS:TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @Helkosh, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare, @corinthia
 
IC: Darth Mirtis
Temple Grounds, Korriban,


The tension in the air changed, feeling heavier to the trandoshan. Everyone's attention seem to have shifted to something in the sky. He followed their gaze, tracing it back to a pyramid shaped ship. He found it quite impressive as it floated there alone.
"Ha! Another?" Darth Mirtis said out loud as a Pyramid ship appeared in the sky. Then a few more ships came out from hyperspace, their shape matching that of the original. A slight unease waivered over his scales as if to mimic the feeling of goosebumps.
"I see they brought friends." Then tens of ships poured in. Mirtis' instincts told him danger lurked ever closer. Then his instincts promptly decided to scream for the reptile to run when hundreds of ships appeared. But he only managed to stare for a few seconds before uttering a single word.
"Kriff."
Then shouts from other sith came such as Darth Viscretus and Darth Hesper. People began moving getting themselves organized. It was clear they were not united at all as some began to make preparations to leave before the ships descended and bring an ill fate. Mirtis himself decided to search for Darth Noxia and be at her side for this surprise event. If she fled without him, death would surely be close behind as she passes the threshold of max distance he can be from her. That is why he found it urgent he find her and prepared to follow her lead. He welcomed a fight, but knew escaping may be the more favorable choice and would not object. He searched for Darth Noxia, unease to what is yet to come as a knot formed in his stomach. He attempted to use his life detection ability to help guide him to her life signature.

Force Ability Attemped:
Prima Vitae-1

@Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @Helkosh, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare, @corinthia
 

DarthNoxia

Active member
Combo
IC: Darth Noxia and Metus Aurelius

Execution grounds, Korriban


Her answer appeared to materialize out of the very void of space. A great pyramidal craft hovered above them all. A feeling of uneasiness washed over the Togruta and for a split second time seemed to stand still. Then there were more...

...and more

...and more

The Togruta’s eyes widened, the reflection of thousands of ships in her black irises. Was this the threat that Darth Hesper had spoken of?

At the very back of the crowd, that’s where he stood. Unassuming drawing little attention to himself throughout the entire ordeal unfolding. It was safe in the obscurity of the shadows cast between acolytes and Lords amassed there. But it would not be safe harbour for long.

Fear gripped and a chill went down her spine. Her heart beat faster in her chest, as she saw panic play on the faces of the others around her. And then her vision faded…

Descending from the sky, a great obsidian pyramids exuding an alien terror. What were familiar faces blurred in front of him until every Sith in the crowd became identical to his eye, black and cloudy.


An instant felt like an eternity. Her fingers burned where they had been severed by the Charon claw. The burning engulfed her arm, her torso, her legs, spreading throughout her body. And, all the while, visions of Chaos. The great void of Otherspace called to her, a black ring in her mind’s eye and nothing but the roar of her own blood in her ears. How easy it would be to slip into sleep, leave this war behind and embrace the void.

The drumming of his heart pounding in his ears. Every sound around Metus seemed to quickly vanish replaced by a high pitched ringing. The stench of panic and dread clung to the air, the rapidly spreading fire of fear shredding the warriors veins, his skin itched and the screeching in his ear took a more distinguished shape. The intruding noise was now a cacophony of screams. Behind his eyelid in the dark a burning orb flashed, a visage of a terrible furnace nested deep in the black of space. It called to him; he answered. The call of the void…

80F4DDC1-7E66-4C19-88A2-15C1EE83FB54.jpeg
…The cries of those around her echoed in her mind, pulling her back into the moment. A chitinous covering had already made its way over half her body and continued to engulf her flesh to the jaw line. The sensation was odd. She craved death, whether she was the cause or the casualty. Someone or something would be sacrificed to Chaos.

Metus’s eye sprang open, pupil constricting and his iris awash with burning amber hue. Everything became sharp and focused; hushed whispers were as loud as screams and all melded into one deafening cry. A shake of his head cleared the fog from his mind, everything now as it was moments before except for two encroaching thoughts. ‘Find Noxia’ and ‘survive’.


Noxia darted forward. She positioned herself in the crowd with Darth Hesper, next to the crouching prisoner, the armored woman and the Kaleesh. If the group didn’t want her there, now wouldn’t exactly be the time to protest and it seemed that many were drawn to the group, ready to make a stand. For Noxia, it was less about making a stand and more about the curiosity of what might emerge from those ships. She could feel the power emanating from them, like tendrils of inky black colliding with phthalo green and royal violet.

“Move” Metus growled pushing past one unnamed Sith as he wedged himself between two others. Pressing forward through the crowd steadily and methodically Metus’s hand moved quickly down to his side, fingers curling around a cool metallic cylinder. The wretched song of questions plaguing those around him amplified by the seething blood red heart of his weapon. He wouldn’t notice but Metus had gripped his saber so tight that beneath his gloves his knuckles were turning white.

Darth Mirtis and Knight Metus. Noxia glanced around hoping that they would find her. She sensed they were near. She might need them.

He pushed forward, eye darting about to spy either Lady Noxia or Darth Mirtis. He couldn’t spot the former but there were very few Togruta he was aware of in the Empire, and it was that brief glimpse of montrals that disappeared behind another faceless shuffling Sith that marked his path.

She was very aware of the thing that was protecting her. It felt the same uncertainty and determination that she did. They were li June’s and their lives depended on one another. The Alchemy that had failed to rid her of the Charon presence had at least saved her from being consumed by it. She would find out how well they survived together.

Weaving through the crowd like a snake his focus sharpened to a pins point. His thumb hovering just above the activation switch of his lightsaber, ready to fight, the acceptance that his death might very well be on the horizon. All else faded to complete meaninglessness. One objective - fight, kill, survive.
In moments that felt as though they’d extended to hours the Corellian had waded through most of the gathered crowd. And there she was, the Sith he was bound to by blood and old magic. The chitinous black creeping over her form, the wails of spider-like monsters, the death rattles of those hideous creatures from deep space filled his mind again.

“This is going to be a little different from Acheron, isn’t it my Lady…” he let the words fall from his mouth as he saddled up behind Lady Noxia.

“Indeed it is,” she said, hearing Metus approach from behind her. Her claws clenched at her sides as the words escaped her lips. Her eyes shifted downward as something stirred the sand. “We should go,” said the prisoner.

Tags:
@Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @Helkosh, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare, @corinthia
 
IC: Reatith Blodraald
Location: Korriban Courtyard




As he stepped around his master his heart was gripped with fear, something was horribly wrong. His concentration on his cloaking slipped, so he dropped it completely. He had no use for a botched veil.

"Roshkas, something is wrong. Very wrong."

The small machine was already vibrating on his shoulder. Perhaps even IT could sense the impending doom.

The duo watched carefully around them as they both trembled unconsciously. From above, the first distant sonic boom commanded the attention of every soul in the courtyard. It was followed by hundreds and thousands more. The sky slowly became darker as the legions of pure black warships intercepted the light of the distant red sun.

The young Sith spoke in a quiet croak, "In the name of Chaos, we are doomed."

The crushing reality of the situation crashed down on him like a Naboo waterfall. The blood drained from his face and his hands became numb. The shouts and commands from the surrounding Sith, became more distant and his vision narrowed. He tried to take a step backwards away from the danger, but his legs had become like stone. He could only stare in awe and hopelessness.

After standing for a near eternal moment, he spoke to his Master in a desperate attempt to find a glimmer of hope. "Lord Solus, what is your command?"


Tags:
@Darth Dreadwar, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @Darth Solus, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @Helkosh, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @Catalyst, @Nacros_Telcontare, @corinthia



REATITH BLODRAALD
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Darth Solus

Member
IC: Darth Solus, The Consulate of Carrion

Location: Korriban

The Commandant’s eyes turned to the sky. Ships filled the expanse. His mind raced momentarily as a strategy worked it’s way in. There was only one option. Operation Darkfire. Solus’ gaze shot to Volshe. His aura expanding as the sabers released from his belt and into his hands.



“Mavros, Solus, gather as many younglings as you can manage. Bring them to the hangars. My council, and Lords of the Empire, you will go the same to the hangars and await me there.”




“Yes Ma’am!”




Solus’ words came out rapidly. A change to the overall operation but one that made sense to him. The route was already being planned in his head.



“My Lord, we must move quickly. I don’t think we have much time.”



"Lord Solus, what is your command?"




Behind his mask Solus grinned. Finally.



“Mavros, Reatith follow me!”




Solus took off quickly down the hallway, he knew the hall well and would be able to cover the group rapidly. Hopefully Mavros and Reatith followed close behind. The travel time could not be wasted.



“Reatith, I need Roshkas to get into the main and make sure doors are open for us to retrieve the youglings. I also need the path clear to the hanger. Have him link with our coms of any updates.”




Solus turned sharply moving further into the academy towards where the Sith younglings would have been gathered.



“Mavros, I need you to clear ahead of us after we reach the younglings. I will gather them and have them with me. Make sure we have no combatants in our path. Operation Darkfire is now under full swing. Any questions?”


Solus took another turn. He waited patiently for questions on his orders. Lilith. The Consulate continued his movements. They weren’t far from the staging grounds. His hands moved quickly working to link to Lilith’s bridge. His com link connecting.



“This is Lord Solus to Lilith Bridge, Operation Darkfire is now active. Initiate response and retrograde to designated location. I will meet you there. Consider all unregistered ships hostile.”




“Yes, Lord Solus.”




Solus’ mind continued to create a strategy. There would need to be a battle force of some kind. Hesper’s loyalists can’t be trusted to defend any of us. Apollyon is useless. We are at a disadvantage. Solus halted before the younglings quarters.



“Mavros, move now. Reatith, after his report collect Roshkas and catch up with us, I need you to help protect the children.”



FORCE POWERS USED/ATTEMPTED:

Electrical Aura-4

Mind Shield-4

TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @corinthia @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Drakul_Xarxes, @G.Kn, @Catalyst , @Darth Kain, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Helkosh, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Sedicious, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Metus, @G.Kn, @Nacros_Telcontare
 

Kielor

Active member
IC: Apprentice Kielor
Temple Corridors, Sith Temple, Korriban

Kielor follows the throng of apprentices down the hallway, keeping his senses on Loharr and Kira, waiting for Marcus to unleash unholy retribution for their insolence. To his abject shock, he overhears the Overseer’s exclamation, “Of course! Go on, then. Yes, yes.”

The man has lost his marbles, Kielor considers. Or perhaps he’s playing the long game, and intends to punish them at a time of his choosing, he muses. Or perhaps he knows something?

The middle aged apprentice puts the thoughts from his mind, his disappointment buried beneath his curiosity of what Lady Apollyon has planned for them.

Dancing shadows cast by braziers paint his black robes with an umber glow as they continue toward the dungeon. Bright flashes from lightsaber combat burst from the rooms adjoining the corridor and scatter those same shadows to the void. Passing the banquet hall to find the room emptying, Kielor reaches out with the force to attempt to connect with his master.

As they descend a series of short stairs, Kielor’s sense are drawn back to himself; the heady stench of alchemy at practice floods his nostrils. He hadn’t been on Korriban all that long, but had taken the opportunity to frequent the alchemy lab on several occasions to practice those skills shared to him by Lady Noxia on Weyland. Fledgling skills at best, however skills he hoped to build upon in time. Sorcery was not common to a warrior, however there was certainly benefits which he would leverage where possible.

The large wooden door swung open with an audible groan at the casual gesture from the Overseer, who indicated a metal rack on the far wall. Kielor stretches back out toward his master with the force, attempting to gain a sense of her disposition, as he reaches out to take a mask from the rack. A deep sense of foreboding floods him. The force is rich with fear. Whether a lingering remnant in the mask from an earlier experience suffered within, or something more tangible, it is certainly far beyond the base level of darkness which he has become accustomed to on Korriban.

Still holding the mask he turns toward his fellows, as Apprentice Zareel abruptly removes her mask, even before having put it on, as she heads for the door. Perhaps she has felt it too, he thinks, as he turns to follow her. She slows as she approaches the entryway, and Kielor matches her speed, just a handful of steps behind. Near to the door, he is able to overhear Master Xiannarr speaking to Marcus. “Something isn’t right here”. Kielor is glad that he is not alone in his concern. Something is amiss, and now may not be the time to be deprived of his connection to the force. He stops short several paces as Zareel addresses the two Sith. She does not state her concern to match his, however hers is somewhat concerning in the context of his own. Her master, Lord Catalyst, wishes to see her regarding her future, and Kielor’s mind races. What is going on?

He closes the short distance between himself and the Sith at the entryway. Still holding the tourture mask, he addresses them. “My apologies Master Xiannarr, Overseer Marcus, and you Apprentice Zareel, however I feel that something is very wrong. A rich sense of foreboding has just swept over me, and I don’t believe that I am the only one who has sensed it.”

Abilities used: Force Sense I

TAG: @Zareel Jhenan´doka @Undying Master Xiannarr @Keres Dymos @Nacros_Telcontare @Darth Dreadwar @Reiis Invadator
 
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Voidwalker

Active member
Streaming Partner
IC: Darth Voidwalker
Passageway, Sith Temple, Korriban

With the Holocron in tow, Voidwalker and his new ally managed to get their bounty out of the banquet hall and into a passageway. Stepping out of the hall and just into the passage the rush of the Force came returning once again. The sound of passing footsteps caught his attention for but a moment. He threw a quick glace over his shoulder just to see a quick glimpse of someone ducking around a corner into another passage. It was of no concern to him now. All he cared about was finding out some answers the Holocron hopefully held.

The Holocron was about three feet high, and made of a dark mineral, possibly Obsidian. Its surfaced gleamed in the glow of the torches used to light the temple. Black holocrons were not unheard of, most contained intricate color detailing. Yet this holocron was more unsuual due to its size and lack of any other colors.

As the two Sith held the Holocron in their hands, it activated. A woman with brown hair and striking eyes, in a simple black robe, hood lowered, shimmered into existence above the device. Her accent was proper and prim when she spoke. "Lord Malak tells me they were seeking a greater threat, Lord Revan and he," Voidwalker made sure to listen closely but to also remain alert. A quick turn of the head would reveal nothing more than the looks of other students from near by class rooms, luckily nothing more. "He said they had encountered a vanguard... Strange crimson sorcerers on Tund, a foul force led by an insane Emperor on Dromund Kaas, an academy on Malachor V that hungered like a living thing, that hungered like the Star Forge hungers. He said they all served a lord, a lord before whom kings and emperors bow."

The hologram wavered, and Bastila's voice briefly warped to a guttural depth. "He said the Star Forge is the legacy of the Builders, but if these... primitive amphibians were the Builders, who were its Architects?"

//That's it? There's nothing more useful to this? Just more riddles and history I already know.//

Suddenly the even distributed weight suddenly shifted and tipped awkwardly as Voidwalker let go of his side of the holocron. The holocron fell to the floor with a loud bang. Then the voice of his so called ally rang out to him. “I got what I wanted, and we are free from the banquet hall. Soooo you got this from here. Byyyeee!” The words fading as Voidwalker looked up to see him running off. Clearly this temporary alliance was over.

Without another second to think, breath, or do anything, it came. A horrendous feeling of darkness, fear, and death, no not death absolute destruction washed over Voidwalker. Every feeling, sense, nerve ending telling him to flee and get to safety. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever felt, even the icy cold presence of Dreadwar had never been this intense or had such an effect on him. What was the cause of this feeling and where was it coming from?


Voidwalker rushed back through the banquet hall feeling his connection to the Force once again being severed and the fearsome feeling slightly receding as he approached the grand archway that led to the execution grounds. Stepping just out of the archway he seen it, a scene of chaos followed by the returned feeling of fear, only now intensified by what he witnessed. Sith of all ranks running and fleeing in fear. The sky was darkened by an innumerable amount of ships that looked like the black holocron he just possessed. Viscretus, Kain, Xirr, Catalyst, even Xarxes all running in different directions. While others like Hesper the Butcher and her guards seemed ready to fight. This was bad.

//Where is Noxia? Where is she?//

The questions quickly passed through his mind as he scanned the area trying to find her. It was as if time itself stopped all together. She was nowhere to be found. Had she already gotten to safety? Did something worse happen? From deep within himself it was as if something had been awakened, wanting to over take him and remove him from the area all together. He felt as if his body could will itself to work against him.

What could he do now? What was he to do? He had to decide, fight or try and retreat to safety. "Damnit Voidwalker!" He cursed himself, angry that he seemed stuck from fear. "You have to make a decision, why are you so scared? You call yourself a descendant of Dreadwar to and this is how you act? You're going to die if you don't make a decision. Some Dread Heir you are!"

//Dread Heir! The twins! The true heirs, they must survive!//

They were the closest and only real family connection that he had in the Galaxy. He had already lost so much, he would die before they were harmed. He'd made his decision.

Voidwalker reached for a lightsaber, igniting the crimson blade. As he turned back around and pushed his legs as hard as they could move to pass back through the banquet hall, into the passageway, and back up the stairs that Viscretus and her followers had taken earlier. Sweat formed on his brow as all of his leg muscles continued to push him, muscles burning from the sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through his body. The antechamber and throne room was just up ahead, he had to make it. He was prepared to cut down anyone that stood between himself and his family, or he would die trying. He just had to get there, he was closing in. Almost there.

Tag: @Darth Dreadwar, @skira , @Loharr Talem, @Undying Master Xiannarr , @Keres Dymos , @Nacros_Telcontare , @Kielor , @Zareel Jhenan´doka , @Hadzuska_The Jester
 
IC: Nacros Telcontare

The group began leaving the room. Kira and Talem, who had decided it was there time to depart the group, departed down the hallway. They claimed they had received orders from someone higher up than Apollyon. Ermir, of course, wouldn't have that and hurried down the hallway after them. Ermir, moments after catching up and talking to the two apprentices, seemed to play it off as just a misunderstanding. Nacros knew better than that. He hadn't been around Ermir that long, but it was far long enough to know that the Overseer would never let something like that just go unpunished.

Nacros followed the group out the door and both Master Xiannarr and Overseer Marcus led the group to the dungeons. From first hearing about this task from Apollyon, Nacros had an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He contemplated what to do about it. He didn't want to disobey Apollyon.... Not without a very good reason anyway. He decided to just follow the group for now, and see what happened. He trusted the force to lead him where he should go. All he could do was be prepared for anything. He definitely hated being caught unaware or unprepared. For this reason, one small habit of his was to carry his weapons at all times if he could. In this instance, he had his lightsaber with him. However, he also carried his beskar staff in its sling, across his back.

As the apprentice walked, a sudden feeling washed over him. The initial emotion that washed over him was that of pure dread. He was stunned, but after a few moments, he snapped to. He was...terrified. Confusion was next to follow in this rainbow of emotions that suddenly washed over Nacros. He was not unaccustomed to fear or similar emotions. However, this was different, it was stronger, more intense. He thought to himself, "Get a grip! Focus your thoughts, and control your emotions." The next thoughts were of the feast and all the Sith still in the building as far as he knew. His only thoughts were that this sudden wave of dread coming at him through the force must have a connection to the gathering of Sith nearby. The group continued to walk as they passed more training rooms and even a pair, of what looked to be Sith, carrying a peculiar object.

The force reached out to him, he felt it brush upon his being. It was a familiar presence. It was his Master, Lord Nathemus. His master was sending a message... "I-Ron, Nacros, whatever you may be doing, I need you on my position. If it's our place to fight, we'll stand and fight. If this contest is unwinnable, then it's better that we leave." Nacros would normally be surprised to hear such an urgent message from his Master out of no where, but given the feeling he had just encountered in the force just moments ago, he was not. He tried to reach out back to his master and respond, "I am coming Master, I will be there as soon as I can." Not sure if it would reach his Master, he quickly came up with a plan. Nacros would slip away from the group as they were moving towards the dungeons. He usually followed at the back of the group as it was and rarely spoke unless spoken too. It really shouldn't too hard to slip away unnoticed for the most part. When the group passed by the banquet hall, he slipped away and headed in whatever direction the force would lead him... hopefully to his master.

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar @Admiral Volshe @Darth Kain @Darth Xirr @Darth Solus @DarthNoxia @Drakul_Xarxes @Jihadi Quartz @Helkosh @G.Kn @Reatith Blodraald @Darth Thana @Sith_Imperios @Cardun Vrek @DarthFeros @Darth Xxys @Volacius @Metus @Catalyst @corinthia @Reiis Invadator @dragonsith13 @Grievance Vexx @Arach @Loharr Talem @skira @Zareel Jhenan´doka @Undying Master Xiannarr @Keres Dymos @Kielor @Darth Nathemus
 
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Rayge

Active member
Moderator
Dark Council
IC: Knight Rayge Vigör
Trenches, Desrini District, Coruscant


Shrapnel rained down across the trenches from the rocket and a sense of relief shrouded Rayge allowing him to slightly relax before his relief was suddenly broken by the swells of bloodcurdling screams ringing throughout the battleground as several explosions rippled through the enemy's trenches carrying across the area like tidal waves. While Rayge wasn't himself adept with the techniques of Mecha Deru he had observed its use from several others during his apprenticeship and only assumed one of his comrades had orchestrated the mass devastation across the lines. Nevertheless, he knew the time to strike had arrived.

The screams of the Federation Soldiers were hastily heightened as others joined in but this time not coupled with the familiar rhythm of explosions but an ear-piercing screech probed the hole area. Rayge instinctually covered what would be his ears if they weren't obstructed by the impenetrable metallic outer shell of armor engulfing him. Once the ringing had subsided he popped up from behind the protective barrier firmly planting his left hand as he swiftly leaped over the obstruction and into the thick of the battlefield. Just as he started to pick up speed a shadow engulfed the sky shading the majority of allies and enemies alike. A quick look over his shoulder revealed the Vapid, a Sovereign-class Super Star which was belching forth a plethora of speeder bikes and MAATs.

Grinning from ear to ear Rayge mumbled to himself as he set his sights back on the enemy...

"...Reinforcements..."

Picking up speed, he surveyed the area trying to find a suitable target when the vibrant emerald flicker caught his eye...

"...Jedi..." He growled, retrieving his extended hilt from his back waistline where it was tucked away into a secured chamber specifically crafted for the intricate hilt.

As he drew nearer he saw the Jedi reach out sending a wave of energy towards his current target, which Rayge rapidly deduced was Knight Shadowsun.

"Excellent," he thought. "A distraction and 2 vs 1 would easily ensure their victory against this Jedi allowing the 2 of them to make quick work of the troops and search out other Jedi before the reinforcements had time to start the genocide."

As he neared the ongoing struggle he took a slow deep breath and felt a tingling feeling encompass each cell throughout his body increasing his reaction time and overall speed. Glancing around at the vast amounts of wreckage scattered across the warzone, Rayge plotted a course that would land him close enough to the Jedi. Scaling the shattered structures until he was several meters above the Iron Knight and the Padawan, pausing for a split second before leaping Rayge activated a single blade on the saber gripping the hilt with a wider hold allowing him to put more power behind an overhead strike aimed at the Padawan's current position.

Abilities used:

• Form VII Juyo (3)
• Jar'Kai (3)
• Augmentation (1)

• enhance attribute (1)
(increase speed and jump)
Telekinesis (3)

• levitation (1)
(addition to jump to allow greater height)


@Darth Dreadwar @Kint Dranlor @Dorrian Shadowsun @Senec Tinople @Oberleutnant Deleritas
 

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