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

Darth Dreadwar

Staff member
OOC: Checking @Keres Dymos' attempt at telepathy. She rolls a 19 + Modifier of 1 against DC 10, and succeeds. Effect Roll is 5, achieving weak telepathic communication. @Kielor, @Undying Master Xiannarr and Ermir Marcus can feel her panic in the Force and vaguely perceive a cry for help, if desired.


IC- Darth Arach
The Undead Party, Korriban

At first, things were going as expected. One of Hesper’s guards ended up having to pick the Priestess up and carry her to the temple from which came waves of telekinetic energy.

Arach felt herself being tugged back and heard a voice call out,
“Plus, you can always blast the Kroger with lightning as you retreat.” Her head whipped toward the direction of the voice. She recognized the winged one who had pledged themself to Hesper earlier. Before she could respond, Skyllan was blown away by the wave and the tugging ceased.

Draconis was mobile and defending himself. Invadator and Vexx were either fighting off the undead, or retreating. Was this? No, but no one was dead. Yet.

Arach saw the wave fling Vexx too far away and the male who had pledged his forces to Hesper before the battle started was flung onto a incapacitated, yet still snapping, skeleton. She hoped that the nasty sounds of breaking had come from Snappers.

The assassin had heard the orders to close the doors and knew a decision had to be made. Her first instinct was to help protect the stragglers until they were able to defend themselves at least, but an idea brewed in the back of her mind. She had no clue if it would work, but she couldn’t try if she was dead.

With one last glance at the others, she turned and ran full speed toward the temple, slicing at random enemies who got in her way. She made it before the doors closed.

Arach didn’t bother looking around at those who made it or who might have followed her, she deactivated her lightsaber and made a beeline to what appeared to have been a storage room. She knelt off to one side. “Time to find the puppet master,” she said, quietly.

The assassin expanded her senses, searching for the strongest presence among the enemy. That should be the one controlling the undead. As she searched, she concentrated her energy, focus, and rage into pure dark side energy and unleashed it on the assault leader and those who threatened her and her kin.

Tags: @Darth Dreadwar, @Darth Kain, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Helkosh, @G.Kn, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Volacius, @Metus, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx

(OOC: Force Sense- 4

Godlike Darkside Tendrils- 10)
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Darth Nathemus

Sedriss of House Dreadwar
Staff member
Grand Master
Dark Council
Jedi Council
IC: The Sedriss
Location: Throne Room, Sith Temple, Korriban

Outside the Temple, carnage rained forth. Drop pods continued to fall from the sky and the undead horde continued to charge forth. But in that throne room, Nathemus' whole family was present. Well, save his birth mother. But she never was present, though he now understood why. I-Ron had finally arrived, though the Sedriss could feel his presence nearby before. It was quite familiar as they shared Bond like many Masters and Apprentices did.

When Voidwalker arrived and saw everyone together, what he said to the Sedriss and his sister felt strange. Not only did he refer to them by their birth names, but the tone in which he did came with a measure of finality. He asked them to protect Primordius and Deianara, and said that Volshe and Nihl would need them now more than ever.
"Draven," he said. "Voidwalker, if they need us now more than ever, then we need you too. I understand that your home means a lot to you and to Sol, but if you leave now I fear you may not even make it there."

Nacros did also barge into the room. He may not have always been prompt and punctual, but he was always purposeful. He asked the Shadow Hand what was happening, but Nathemus could not muster much as an answer. What he did say, he didn't know much about. "From what I can tell," he began. "There are thousands of pyramidal ships just hanging in the atmosphere, dropping full pods of Korriban zombies that are sieging the Sith. It's strange. Generally those zombies serve Sith Sorcerers. I can't imagine the forces behind these. The Dark Side has never felt stronger than this moment."

After the brief exchange with Nacros, alarms and klaxons started blaring around the Temple. Voices came over loudspeakers telling the Sith to go to their battlestations. All the typical defenses against planetary invasion. It was very reminiscent of the retaking of Korriban by the Sith Empire some 3800 years ago. //Perhaps. No, it couldn't be. Could it?// Darth Malgus was an incredible invader. Perhaps the best Sith Warrior that serviced the Empire since the first known King in the annals of history, Adas.

The Devaronian wanted everyone to go to the war room and she looked at the Shadow Hand expecting agreement. Before he could say anything, however, after Fel was healed, the Empress collapsed and Nihl immediately moved to run her out of the room.
//What the kriff? She never is spent after healing someone.// "Lord Nihl!! She's safer here than anywhere else. We can protect her together. Return to the throne room!" As the kids began to follow their parents out after the Imperial Knights, Maladi stopped them dead in their tracks. "They're safer with me and Corde. We'll get to the war room soon, but I must keep them safe while knowing that Nihl and the Empress are too."

Over a few meters, the Apprentice he hadn't seen before had just been trampled and cracked his head over the stairs. Even amidst the carnage of the day, the Sedriss couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. //Well, guess I'll never know his name.//

Pulling himself together, he moved to speak with Voidwalker again, hoping he was not on his way yet. "Voidwalker, between my Healing Talisman and your prowess with the Dark Transfer, we can save the Empress. If my father doesn't turn around, make him turn around. Then we go to the war room."

TAG: @skira, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Solus, @Reatith Blodraald, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Dreadwar
IC Xiannarr
The dungeons

Xiannarr was pissed. Visions flooded his mind of what could have been. A burnt, charred Ermir lying dead on the floor. A smouldering stab wound through his throat

However it was not to be, the Overseer dove to Xiannarr’s left dodging the fireball. A copper mask flying through the space where Ermir had been standing moments ago. Satisfaction quickly replaced the despair as Xiannarr stabbed into Ermirs shoulder, it hadn't been the killing shot he had hoped but Xiannarr could see it had done its job.

“Kielor, get out of here you're only going to get in my way” Xiannarr directed at the apprentice, taking his eyes off of Ermir to drive his point home. The momentary distraction was a mistake, Ermir had raised his hand and sent the Dread Master flying into a doorway.

Xiannarr struggled back to his feet, drawing the dark side into himself. Refueling some of what he had already used, Xiannarr lifted his left hand preparing to Drain Life on Ermir. When a speaker erupted in the distance

Attention, all hands to battle stations, all hands to battle stations. The Temple is under attack, siege protocols activated. This is not a drill. All hands to battle stations, all hands to battle stations

At the same time a desperate call for help entered his mind, it seemed to emanate distantly below him, Keres’ in trouble. Raising his saber in his right hand, held that towards Ermir, in a defensive Soresu Stance. Prepared for an offensive onslaught ready to cut down the Overseer if he continued

“Don't be a fool Ermir, this is over. If need be we can finish this later, but right now something is attacking the Academy and Keres is calling for help. Don't pretend you didn't feel it too, put this aside. Our duty is first and foremost to the Academy. Name a time and place when this is over and I'll come. You and I both know you won't forget this and neither will I.” Xiannarr spoke, soft and even. It wasn't a plea of desperation, Xiannarr knew he would win if this continued. He also knew however that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Powers used:
Feed on dark side-2
Soresu-3 (readying stance)

Powers continued
Force resistance-3

(ooc: the drain life was prepared not used, if Ermir makes any move except to resign Xiannarr will unleash it at him)
"I said to my soul, be still, and let the darkness come upon you. Which is the darkness of God."

– T.S. Eliot, East Coker​

IC: I-Ron and Zoradon, inside the mind of Sol Kira.

The anxious eyes of the apprentice were eyeing I-Ron as he entered her mind. Giant unholy eyes that gazed upon that unending backroom of sterile beige walls and wooly carpet.

Those eyes, gazing from the sky, injected with red, blood vessels popping and healing, red retreating and then coming back like a breathing, carefully planned to not explode into a panic attack, but knowing that sooner or later the gates of raw and uncontrolled feeling would implode. It was a palpable taste in the atmosphere inside there.

I-Ron wasthere on her true form. Almost naked, only the bright lights of her own blue aura covering her, feeling the carpet with her feet for the first time. Ethereal like a fog, weightless yet with skin and bones and flesh. Or some facsimile of that.

“So this is how it feels inside here. Can you hear me? Are you there?” I-Ron took her time for an answer. Gazing up to the sky, the unending universe that was the demonic eyes of Sol were still watching her, moving and trembling like an incorrect glitch in reality. “Or you want me to fish you out of there myself, demon?”

“Hello Knight I-Ron, it is nice to speak to you again,” Came a voice from his apprentice’s mind, echoing as if they were in a cave, but it was not her own. It was deep and strange, and a figure appeared in the black void, a strange abomination coming from nowhere.

“I don’t believe we ever formally met, my name is Zoradon. Your apprentice is in need of guidance, guidance only we can give her. She is weak and afraid.”

“She is more than weak and afraid. She is clay, being molded by my hands. Not by the hands of Empress Volshe, and especially not by your hands. She is mine, and mine alone.” I-Ron´s voice cracked like a thunder whip, full of wretched pride for what she considered to be her property until her knighting ceremony arrived.

“I already suspected there was someone else living inside here. I told her to mutate herself in order to evolve, shed her skin and chain the beast inside her, to pursue the path of metamorphosis. So, did she allow herself to be infected by your will and share a room in her mind? Was that part her idea or yours?” I-Ron said, raising her hand trying to locate the information she needed using telepathy, trying to draw from the infinite corridor of Sol´s mind the thing she was looking for, reality molding itself by her willing it.

“She agreed to it, but this is what I do. Humans are an intriguing species, I’m sure you can agree with that. I plagued her mind with voices to change the mark on her skin, every gift I give comes with a price. She wanted strength, she wanted others to fear her. She wanted to be freed from the voices I plagued her with. Let’s face it, she’s small. No one will ever fear her without me.” He said, pacing across the endless void.

“She could be death, pure death with our help. She just needs more training, to utilize the Force in ways she doesn’t even understand yet. Being cut off from the force for almost all her life did her no favors, with your help she could be a powerful Sith one day if she lives long enough…” He paused, looking at him inquisitively.

“What is it that you seek, Knight I-Ron? Let’s work together.”

“What was my apprentice hiding from me? I want to….No! I need to know.” I-Ron then responded.Her fingers trailing the air like touching the keyboard of a computer, while reality and no-reality bended backwards and upwards, changing the dreaming realm of the mind of Sol. “You see what she sees, Then what was she doing with Volshe? I have the need of an inquisitor. I need to know.”

She did not responded to the fear question, her single minded behaviour already set her on course for one thing only. Besides, one could get lost in the oniric backroom of a Sith´s mind, if one strayed so long from a known path.

“She has been working with Volshe. To be quite honest, I think Volshe has manipulated her. She wouldn’t say that, but she has made her care for others. Utterly disgusting, sympathy is like a leech. Regardless, Empress Volshe may save the galaxy. But I feel that any argument over the Sith Throne is useless. The Sith have died out before over things such as this, you’d think they would learn.”

“It's in our genes, in our cultural memes.” I-Ron retorted, springing ready to point the finger at the demon because of that ego he held. “We have a tribe, a family, a membership group. And its natural due to our upbringing that we feel compelled to help me, the in-group mentality prevails above all. That's why most Siths dare not to help each other, that's why most Sith´s are going to be dead soon, or are already dead. You can't fight your genes, you can't fight destiny. We are meant to help us one another because we are designed for that!”

Green tentacles emerged from the arms of I-Ron, wrapping around them like a naked snake that finally shed its skin. The tentacles were coiling with one another, giving the image of a small tornado.

“I could Drain you if I wanted. I could snuff you, inhuman wretch. This is the body of my apprentice, not yours. Do not teach her your faulty philosophy or else i´ll pray you away, draining your soul.”

“I could take her over at any moment. Draining me would just drain her, she would have to learn how to remove me herself. My claws are too deep in her mind,” He retorted, smirking at the Knight.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know? She’ll be waking soon from the illusion I put her under. Perhaps you want to know what she’s seeing?”

“No.” I-Ron muttered, recalling the tentacles, proving useless now. “I want her to see what I am seeing, its much more important. You must see what is happening outside.” Bombarding the mind of Sol with the thousands of pictures and videos of information that I-Ron got from the outside, a snap from the past being imprinted in her memories by I-Ron, so she could be up to date in a LSD fueled mental laberinth.

Still, the Shard was confident in her abilities to dislocate the demon from inside her. Everything in life that was worth something was hard, and she began to slowly understand that she had put her own apprentice in peril, in more peril than needed. Was she not a good master? Probably not, she was astray with no shepherd to guide her, and this was the result. I-Ron, like any good master worth its salt, blamed herself for her state now. She was weak, but that was to be expected, however her mind was fractured between her dark side tainted humanity and that demon living inside her. That could not be allowed.

On how to remove such an entity of flames and damnation was the subject of another story entirely. Because when I-Ron finally got what she needed inside the mind of her precocious apprentice, she finally got out of there.

She felt as being pulled backwards by a giant invisible hand, the centrifugal forces tearing her mind-self limb by limb, soul and mind being ripped from inside her skull in the same snap movement that one uses to separate the skin from the flesh of the rabbit.

I-Ron was finally in the waking world. There was no invisible oniric backroom where the terror of the human condition is made manifest. Now, he was holding her in his arms. The demon did that, put her in a small coma. She was sleeping live a baby, her factions were so mathematically beautiful, eyes closed he, with a metal finger caressing her right cheek.

“This is my apprentice, and I am training her wrong.” I-Ron thinks to himself. “I must do something about it.”

Then he helps her to stand up as she wakes up.

“How long have I been out?” Kira said to him.

“Only a few minutes, my child.” It was about time for her to wake up.

“We have to go. Please. We have to go,” she begged her master, scrambling to sit up. “Please, we shouldn’t have come here. We have to go. I don’t want to die. There’s so much I haven’t told you, and I’m sorry. But I can’t tell you it all here. We have to get off this planet, we have to live…”

She paused, noticing someone else in the door frame of the room she had wandered off to. Lord Voidwalker.

“My father will not help the people of Onderon, he is a coward. We have to get off this planet, I need to go home. We need to go home.”

“NO.” I-Ron with a resounding voice, a command word said. “You are my apprentice, and you are going to listen to me if you don't want me to drain you until all what remains of you are is putrid skeleton. I can and I will whip your back worse than your father did if you keep this charade going. Shut up and do as I tell you.”

Forgetting how she helped I-Ron to comb her hair, to tie her shoelaces, to even get dress. Forgetting all the selfies, I-Ron acted like a ruthless Sith Master. It was an act, he was extremely nervous, but due to his mechanical nature his voice could not show such. The pyramids, the zombies, the deaths all around them, everything was making everything so dam hard. With no God to look for them, with so few options on what to do, being besieged by all fronts and being cornered like animals by forces beyond their comprehension, I-Ron finally snapped.

He was too friendly with her apprentice, and she was walking a path that he did not wanted because of it. This was to be the reckoning, the judgment day, and if both of them would die, then at least her apprentice had to be pure enough to go to heaven, while I-Ron bleeded the infidels one by one enough time to make her enter.

“Black pyramid ships emerged from hyperspace, they did not appeared on the radars, so I suspect a secret technology or a godlike amount of force power to move ships with the force, or Sith Illusions to make us panic.” I-Ron said his sitrep to his master, Lord Nathemus, The Sedriss.

With the power of the computer I-Ron gazed into the cameras of the courtyard. A massive swarming ocean of undead doing battle with the Sith. Who remained outside of the gathering that could achieve such massive numbers with his or her sorcery? Who was the one responsible for all of this? It didn't make any sense.Who and why?

How many jumps from hyperspace must an armada so big do before arriving at their destination? How many instances of failure could they encounter that could let slip that they were in fact inbound to Korriban? Yes, he was aware of the usage of Fold Space, since his favorite siths in the order used it to great effect. One ship is possible, but not in the heat of battle when the cortisol can break the concentration of even the greatest master of all time. One can be expected, two is a maybe, three ships is demented, the power of a god. And I-Ron was expected to believe that so many, 10.000 of them did that? There was something wrong there, no Sith was capable of that.

Maybe God was capable of that.

But he would never turn against us. He is one of us.

Could it be that the radar was hacked or tampered with? Yes, it must be that. No matter that I-Ron chekec that the moment he arrived, because the only explanation beyond that was that a god was present, or a godlike being, which was more acceptable.

“Master, I need to go to the hangar. There, inside my ship, my weapons await me, and i´ll be needing them. After that, where do you want us to rendezvous?” Then he gazed at both Sol and Karin, the apprentices of I-Ron, trained by the living legacy of Nathemus. “You two come with me. Sol, your weapons are in my ship.”

At the same time, using Mechu Deru to multitask, he tried to send a message to the radar facilities of the temple. The communication network of the same temple, yes, but enhanced by his Mechu Deru to be faster and more legible. Inside his mind he started to write the message, trying to type in the words as fast as he could, he sent:

“Double check the sensors and radar for any hacking. And keep an eye on the pyramids, I suspect they might be fake, products of Sith Illusions.”

I-Ron wished he had ten thousand hands like an hecatoncheir, he felt he was needed in so many places at the same time, himself now being a glorified communications ship, he started to reach out with the force to everyone he could. Extending his mind´s eye far away from there, to look for Apollyon.

Where was she? Was he needed by her? He wanted to know, he needed her.

His voice was invisible because no one could see. When we speak our voices produce soundwaves that travel with the air in the atmosphere as a medium, I-Ron instead of that used electrical currents to convert his thoughts into the random chirping of a droid that, due to linguistics, an organic could understand as words. Yet, he was able to see that, to see the soundwaves when someone started to speak, to better understand them. And so, his voice was invisible because it was electricity, now converted to the quintessence of the force, that started to being transmitted via Telepathy to reach out to Apollyon.

He tried to, of course, no one was in their right mind to be able to effectively use their powers with 100% of effectiveness. But he tried to send her the message of: “I am with Nathemus, preparing myself to check this temple. We never saw the ships on the radar coming, I suspect something might be wrong inside here.”

He did not wanted to communicate like with a holophone, but only send the message to let her know. And so, when he finished the incantation to send the message, he then turned to his apprentice Karin, giving her her sword and shield. Gazed at Sol, then at Nathemus.

“Do we have the clear to go, Master? Or do you have a better plan?” He said, putting himself in the middle of Sol at his right, and Karin at his left. He amped up the volume on his vocabulator, to let Sol know of how one talked with their Master, and the ideal place an apprentice had, being 50% an independent spirit, and 50% codependent of their master.

Powers Used: Mechu Deru, Telepathy. All of them to just send messages, in order to procure that using mental and technomagic communications should be faster than normal messages in holopads.

@skira, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Voidwalker, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Solus, @Reatith Blodraald, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Dreadwar @Darth Nathemus
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Darth Thana

Active member
IC: Darth Thana

Outside with Zombies, Korriban

Darth Thana felt the power surge as her giant dark wings expanded outwards, having taken to the sky as the burning power of chaos rained from her palms quickly surrounding many zombies. The aftermath was not what she had hoped for as they did not stop their attacks after the flames died down to reveal blackened bones of still animated dead.

"What the..." was all that came to mind as a rush of powerful winds swept the transformed Dread Witch by surprise. Thana was whipped with a violent shove towards the ground feeling a hearing a snap as she smashed rolling against the maroon colored sands, her head pounding as she unwrapped her wings from her body. Everything seemed to be spinning as she only took a second to gather herself feeling her left arm ache with a pain filled feeling as she tried to move it.

"Kriff!" Pulling off a piece of cloth from her dress like shirt from the bottom and wrapping it tight against her forearm to keep it stabilized until she can find safety and analyze how bad it was. Pain flooded more as she pulled it tightly and fastened it for the journey.

Rage began to build in the Sith Witch as her breathing became more frequent and heavy, her darkened amethyst colored eyes shifted towards the temple doors as she took to the skies again. This time hoping to stay up and unwounded, her wings fluttering rapidly as she charged forth to the temples. Blood pumping in her veins as she wanted to soar with as much as her wings could take her, wind blowing her hair back. Speed increasing as her wings carried her body through the air narrowly escaping the closing doors behind as she felt the air hiss pass her.

The female zabrak/S'kytri dropped down to the ground as she came to halt, deactivating her winged form back into her original zabrak like body. Black wings disappearing as if out of nowhere, still breathing hard from the panic feeling of the narrow escape she had just now performed outside. Thana attempted to pull in the abundance of negative emotions that lay heavily in the air around her, eyes darkening to a full obsidian color now as she sat down taking a look at her wrapped and slowing swelling left forearm...

Powers used:

Feed on the Dark Side -3
Amulet Of Transformation (Deactivated)

TAGs: @Darth Dreadwar
@Darth Kain @Darth Xirr @DarthNoxia @Drakul_Xarxes @Helkosh @G.Kn @Sith_Imperios @DarthFeros @Darth Xxys @Volacius @Metus @Catalyst @corinthia @Reiis Invadator @dragonsith13 @Grievance Vexx @Arach
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Well-known member
Final Triumvirate
Dark Council
IC: Drakul Xarxes

The armored figure ground to a halt just as the doors slammed shut behind him, sealing him away from the chaos of outside, though not for long. These doors would not hold forever, nor would the shields reinforcing the barrier. Surely there was something better to be done than stay here and fend them off before their own inevitable doom, but nothing came to mind.

The pain in his chest was considerable, and he approached a pillar to lean against, momentarily relieving the weight on his chest. He hadn’t punctured a lung, and the ribs were only fractured, not splintered into tiny bits, so he could go without immediate treatment, or so he thought. Still, there was pain, such that he had avoided harnessing for some time.

Now, however, there was no cause to not use everything readily available. He felt the physical pain in his chest return as he stood up from the pillar, now bounding towards the stairs up towards the battlements, where he sensed the presence of a certain Beloved Prince.

As he moved, he felt something else, something both mildly dissatisfying and irksome. His apprentice had failed to make it in in time, and now lay exposed outside, awaiting the oncoming zombies.

The only question on Xarxes’s mind was whether or not Zyldek would die a coward or a Sith.

He ascended the stairs, eventually coming up alongside Lord Kain and Lady Apollyon. Whereas the Beloved Prince seemed to be scanning the door below them, Xarxes craved destruction. Extending an open palm towards a mass of the zombies outside the shields, he clenched his fist, attempting to focus a grip on the entire mass before slamming them together and into the ground with immense force.

IC: Zyldek Nagald

The Chagrian came to slowly, realizing his predicament but too weak to get up faster. He could hear the hum of the barrier walls, luckily behind him. Unlucky, however, was that he was trapped between the barrier and the door with a number of Sith and zombies, some of whom were turning towards him.

The Sith knew he would likely not survive, so but he refused to go down so easily. He didn’t know what had hit him, but it has injured him badly. Blood covered his vision, but he persisted. His lightsaber remained clutched in his hand, and he ignited the curved crimson blade.

Suddenly, a singularity of a great and strong presence caught his attention. It was Kain, the Beloved Prince of the Stars, standing at the battlements above. Waving a hand and seeing his Master, he bellowed to the best of his ability for the Dark Lord’s attention.

Having done all he could to survive, he turned, keeping his lightsaber at the ready and extending his fingers to electrocute the zombies in the area.

Powers used:
Drakul Xarxes: Telekinesis - 4 (to grab and collide a mass of zombies both into each other and the ground, potentially even causing an explosion of bone shards).
Zyldek Nagald: Force Lightning - 2 (to electrocute approaching foes); Makashi - 2 (prepared to cut off a foe's head)

OOC: @Darth Kain is being called to by Zyldek. It is up to you whether he is heard, acknowledged, or cared about.

TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Helkosh, @G.Kn, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Volacius, @Metus, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Arach, @Voidwalker, @skira, @Jihadi Quartz
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Streaming Partner
(Combo with @skira)
IC: Darth Voidwalker & Sol Kira
Throne Room, Sith Temple, Korriban

Don’t call me that,” Sol responded, accidentally more rude than she had intended. “It’s just Sol.”

She still sat on the ground, her Master and Karin beside her. He was talking to her, but she didn’t even process it. Her mind was still foggy and overwhelmed, it was as if her Master was speaking a foreign language. From the doorway, she saw Darth Nihl and the Empress rush by, the Empress unconscious. “What the…” She said, standing and moving to the doorway to try to see what happened. She looked towards the Throne Room, only to see her fellow apprentice a bloodied mess on the ground.

I leave for five minutes and he gets himself killed,” She grumbled, walking away from the Lord and her Master and back into the throne room. He still laid there, twitching and frothing at the mouth. She knelt beside him, moving his head slightly to see the crack in his skull.

Idiot,” She whispered, wiping the small amount of blood from her hand onto the ground. She stood, and looked to her Master and the Lords of the room.

"Well, Sol," Voidwalker responded in a semi sarcastic tone. "We're going to take it one stair step at a time, unlike your less than fortunate counterpart there." Gesturing to the apprentice that laid dead.

You are my apprentice, and you are going to listen to me if you don't want me to drain you until all what remains of you are is putrid skeleton. I can and I will whip your back worse than your father did if you keep this charade going. Shut up and do as I tell you.” Came the voice of her "Master", Knight I-Ron.

The words resonated in Voidwalker's mind like the echoing sounds of a cannon in a canyon, causing something deep within his primal core to stir more than it had in over a year. An ancient and nameless dark creature scratching at the many broken walls that made up the plague shattered mind of Voidwalker. It was begging, no, it was demanding to be released from its prison of chaos.

If I-Ron touches her, I will kill him. His own inner voice was a distortion of what seemed like corrupted holopad data with layers on top of layers of audio. His voice, twisted, layered over a much deeper, tormented, screeching, almost unhuman voice. He was not there that day, I was! I seen the pain she had endured and if I would kill her pathetic Father, the King of Onderon. I have no problem destroying a less than significant being.

"Unlike your father," Voidwalker stepped next to the body of the dead apprentice, looking down at the clouded eyes and expressionless face upon the body. "When I don't want someone to one day come back," Raising his right leg, he slammed his foot down with a dark furosity, making contact with the floor that had been under the head of the dead. The apprentice's head caving in, and bones crushing under the Sith Lords boot. Blood, tissue, and brains shooting outwards, like a meiloorun melon be smashed by a durasteel press. "I make sure they don't come back." The message had been directed to the Princess turned apprentice, yet Voidwalker eyed the Droid-bodied Master of the apprentice.

"That was a mistake your father made when he banished me from Onderon, that day you and I met." He said with a dark grimace laying in his tone. Removing his foot from the crater that had been the apprentice's skull, he wiped the contents that clung to the bottom of his boot off on the floor. Pathetic. Well he had been a waste of academy resources. He thought to himself.

The Sith stepped back over to where Sol was standing, shaking any remaining tissue or brain matter off his boot. "Let that act of brutality be a lesson Sol. Always remain aware and do not loose your head in times of action."

My father?” She asked, slightly taken back by what he said and by the nasty sight that Loharr’s corpse had become. “My Father banished you?” She asked, but looked over to her Master and Lord Nathemus, only hearing the ending of what her Master had been saying.

We cannot fly off the planet if there’s pyramid ships, or whatever is out there, stopping us. Trying to fly away would be a suicide mission,” She said, protesting the small bit of conversation she had caught from I-Ron. She then looked back to Lord Voidwalker, sighing.

I’ll follow you. Lord Nathemus is right, the twins are safer here than out there with the Sith retreating back in here and whatever threat is outside.”

"Well then it seems we have our orders. We should get moving then. Let's go, apprentice. You're with me."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, before another voice called out to him. “Voidwalker,” came the harsh and authorative voice of the man he knew well, Lord Kain. Turning to address the Beloved Prince of The Stars, Kain spoke again before he could respond, “get this man to the Empress.” Kain had stated as he pushed the Federation Admiral towards him. “I have business to attend to on the battlements. Make sure he gets to her in one piece.” Saying nothing more Kain dashed out of the throne room and was on his way.

"Wait!" Voidwalker exclaimed as he pushed pass the man that Kain had just left him in charge of. He raced after the Beloved Prince, rushing into the hallway just out of sight of the entryway. No sight of Kain to be had.

A feeling of anger rushed over Voidwalker as he stood in the empty corridor. Voidwalker, do this, Voidwalker do that. Voidwalker you're a fool. Voidwalker do as we command. Voidwalker obey us! Who do they think they are? I am no one's pet Sith! He reached up and pulled the amulet that hung around his neck like a necklace up from behind the armor he wore. Holding it in his hands. Two of the galaxies strongest bloodlines runs through my veins. I am a War Priest, I should stop holding back and just allow my true form to shine through, a form as cold as death itself.

A chill ran across his body, pulling his attention back. He felt cold, colder than usual on Korriban. Did he just feel cold to himself, or had he altered the environment around himself to be colder?

When Lord Voidwalker walked out of the room, Sol walked to stand beside the Empress’ children, attempting to move them to look away from Loharr's dead body.

Just look at me, ok? That isn’t something you two should have to see,” She said, taking both of their hands and smiling. She stood, and looked to the doorway where Lord Voidwalker had left. She avoided the look from her Master and Karin, and looked to Lord Nathemus.

What do we do, my Lord? How do we get out of this?” She asked, but as she did, someone entered the room once more.

Re-entering the throne room, the look on Voidwalker's face was one of irritation, more so than usual. Between the crushing feeling of darkness that seemed unrelenting, everyone trying to take charge, and this ancient hunger growing within him, he had enough. "This is what we're going to do, you're coming with me apprentice." His voice reflecting the expression his face carried.

"We will attempt to convince Lord Nihl to return to here with us. I-Ron, you need to find out find us a way out of here. I'm assuming things are getting worse outside since the blast doors have been closed. Nathemus, be prepared and stand by your com unit. Cordé, keep the twins safe. You," he spat at the Federation leader that Volshe risked her own life to save.

"Volshe gave you your life back. Now you will repay her by protecting her children with your life if it comes to it. I'm assuming you know how to use one of these." Voidwalker stated to her as he removed a hilt from his belt and tossed her the hilt that was the orange bladed lightsaber he carried, but rarely used. "Make sure you don't lose that or get too attached, I'll be back for it."

"I-Ron," Voidwalker called out to the mechanical Sith Knight, unconcerned with any potential snarky response. "Place your other apprentice next to the door Incase of any intruders. Perhaps she can be more useful cannon fodder than that other pathetic excuse of an apprentice. I hope you trained her in how to keep her footing and not trip so easily." He gestured to the body of the apprentice, a crater where his head had been.

"Come along Sol, and I suppose since Lord Kain tasked me with your delivery, you're coming as well." Voidwalker said to the Federation Admiral. "Now let's go, we have to hurry." Grabbing the man by his shoulder, and shoving him towards the doorway.

TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar @Darth Nathemus @skira @Jihadi Quartz @Nacros_Telcontare

Zareel Jhenan´doka

Active member
IC: Zareel Jhenan'doka
Sith Temple, Korriban

She had arrived, she had finally arrived, but... to what had she arrived?

Her eyebrows arched in obvious concern, the screams and screeches were coming from the outside and the gates were closing at that exact moment; apparently, only those who had been able to get away from whatever was threatening them, managed to find shelter back in the temple.

The voices of the people that had suddenly rushed in were making her dizzy. Skeletons? Dark Pyramids? Zareel heard how they were all talking about an attack; even trying to avoid listening, she identified "thousands", "not stopping", "wounded" and “invasion.” A tense smile was the gateway to a new surge of anxiety. That was the source of the noise, that was unquestionably the origin of that overwhelming sensation. With such chaos outside, why hadn't the apprentices been evacuated? Who would in their right mind have carried on as normal with the day's programme?

Retracting her antennae, she made sure to conceal them with her hair, to reduce some of the noise around her and started to look around for a familiar face.

Relieved, she opened widely her eyes as she spotted her master, apparently safe and fortunately he had seen her too; she responded with a nod and a smile before following him, dodging people and discarded dishes.
"What a waste" She couldn't help could not help but lament at the sight of so much food and drink falling to the ground and being trampled underfoot. Absently she dragged one of her hands along the edge of a table and grabbed the first thing that came to hand; whatever it was, wine, meat, sausages...

Fruit, she was sober, in a rush and the only thing she got was some fruit.

Quickly caught up with her master and a couple of lords who were also ascending following Lady Apollyon. "The battlements? I may get a better view." She thought to herself as she took a bite of the fruit, more out of inertia due to nervousness than appetite per se.

Suddenly she couldn't recall if she had supposed or imagined anything before, nor if she had thought about what she was getting herself into. But not even in the most horrible of her nightmares had she imagined anything like what had been unleashed above and outside the temple. Not only were the gates of the temple, but the barrier was also active and no one appeared to feel safe even with that.

There it was again, the dark creeping feeling of danger that had been growing throughout the day; it finally took shape with a horrid taste in her mouth and the sickening urge to empty her stomach. She was only able to control herself by the presence of the higher ranks there, disguising her displeasure with another bite of the fruit to swallow it all down. “Not the moment to panic Zareel, not the moment,” She told to herself focusing on the sweetness of the fruit.

Guards were taking up defensive positions, her master suggesting to look for an escape route; others how much the barrier and even the walls could resist.
How could they get out of there? it seemed even the sky seemed to be completely blocked; but... she had come from the tunnels.

"My lady, lords, if I may..." She began, bowing quickly to them, not wanting to waste time but not forgetting basic respect either. "I came from the tunnels, and they looked empty; at least from where I came back. I did not encounter anyone but the apprentices who had been ordered by my lady to the dungeons to train with the masks." She gave them a look, clenching the remaining fruit in her hand before continuing. "Several of them withdrew on orders from their own masters as did I." She gave a grateful look to Lord Catalyst, for not being lost there without knowing what had happened or finding out too late. “Could tunnels be considered a safe area to retreat to in case of emergency?”

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar @Drakul_Xarxes @Darth Xirr @DarthNoxia @Helkosh @G.Kn @Darth Thana @Sith_Imperios @DarthFeros @Darth Xxys @Volacius @Metus @Catalyst @corinthia @Reiis Invadator @dragonsith13 @Grievance Vexx @Arach @Voidwalker @skira @Jihadi Quartz
IC: Senec Tinople
Location: MAAT, above the embattled Coruscant walkway


Chaos and cacophony consumed Coruscant.

Even in the sterile, sealed compartment of the MAAT, Senec was on the verge of being overwhelmed by the sheer confusion of the battle below. His malicious anticipation of the lives he was about to take had already begun to fade as soon as he realized the true delicacy of his situation. The powerful roar of the gunship’s engine swelled in his ears, even as the ship seemed to be rattled to its core constantly from near-miss artillery blasts. Senec found his gaze lost in the flashing smoke below, a dense, billowing fog lit up by red and green flashes, orange gouts of flame, lightsabers dimly cutting through the grey clouds. Senec’s Force senses lit up like an over-taxed HoloNet call line, his mind ringing with the screams of the injured, the mad war cries of the Imperials and Sith who still fought for breath, the terse mutterings of the officers who dashed along the front line, delivering messages and barking orders. In the hubbub of it all, with Senec hearing more voices in a second than he had heard in the past month, Omegon’s telepathic directive was lost in the jumble.

Yes, Sith though he was, it was too much for Senec to take in. He felt as if he were shellshocked, having emerged from the quietude of his studies on Tython into an immense, rolling thunderclap, a whine and headache already beginning to creep up into his skull. His very bones seemed to shake with the rattles of the ship as vast artillery lasers screamed past the gunship.


Senec squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them as if to wipe away the dazzlement of a thousand lasers, then resettled his fists around the gunner controls, blinking away stars.


Senec turned inward for a moment, dredging up all his ambition, his decades of pent-up rage for having lived so long without fulfilling his potential, new anger and determination crackling through him. Yet, for all his fury, the overwhelming sounds and sights faded away from him, replaced only with the distant chirping of birds.


The Caamasi cursed and grabbed his comlink, keying it on in time to hear Omegon’s repeated directive to concentrate fire on specific artillery entrenchments and retreating officers. He watched a single pointing laser pierce through the confusion, circling several key positions, only Senec’s intense focus allowing him to keep track of the laser amidst everything.

Now that he was keyed into the developing action, Senec could watch with a more discerning eye, saw a couple Sith viciously dispatch a thoroughly outclassed Jedi Padawan, watched the Sith astride the speeder bike animatedly gesturing as he spoke with an Imperial officer, saw the Sith who had sent him directions begin to position Imperial soldiers to advance on the retreating enemy and take up new, stronger positions. And, to crown it all, Senec sensed the arrival of yet another powerful dark presence, one that radiated strength and confidence.

Senec quickly made up his mind, no time taken to actually reply to his instructor. The gunship had been somewhat haphazardly circling the Imperial position up until now. Senec hastily keyed the ship’s internal comm, contacting the gunship’s pilot, “Pilot, take me ahead and over the enemy lines. I’ll call out my targets to you, so that you can line me up for a clear shot.”

The gunship roared ahead, and Senec settled in, his keen mind remembering each position that Omegon had highlighted. As they sailed over waves of retreating enemy forces, Senec called out the coordinates of each officer and gun emplacement, giving the gunship time to swing in that direction as Senec let loose a devastating spray of power, concentrating on single guns here, strafing across swathes of resistance forces here. He hoped that his attacks would succeed in weakening the positions the Imperials needed for a final rout, as well as further frightening the enemy with the display of utter power.

As he completed his strafe, he finally keyed the comm, contacting Omegon. “I hope those positions are softened up sufficiently. What’s next?”

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


Active member
Jedi Council
IC: Darth Krayt
Courtyard of the Sith Temple

A Planet Lost

Krayt's gamble had succeeded. He'd cleared the abomination from in front of him, and was moving to join the others when it felt like an invisible hand had slapped into him, swatting him away and tossing him a good 30 feet or so. He braced himself to land, but he hadn't expected to land on one of the snarling skeletal monstrosities that was accosting the Sith.

The creature snapped its jaws and growled and hissed, but it was the jagged bones that did Krayt the harm. Just under his armor, where the plates ended, he felt his flesh give way and a bone jab deep into the back left side of his body, about three inches from his hip. He could tell from the placement it had probably grazed one of his kidneys, and it was going to bleed.

The beast was still thrashing and wailing, and Krayt was in no mood to be stabbed by a bone and bitten. He sent a force augmented elbow smashing into the skull, and pulled himself to his feet, using the Force to control the pain in his side. Thankfully, he was only about thirty meters or so from the Temple now, and started to move to the room with the speed of the Force.

The scene inside the Temple as the doors came down and the shields went up was absolute bedlam. There were dead and dying littered around. The screams of those left in the courtyard could still be heard, the wails echoing off the walls and joining the various voices in deliberate discussion about their current predicament.

Krayt looked around to see who'd made it inside. He saw Xarxes and Kain. Kain's former apprentice seemed to have made it in as well. They were discussing the shields not holding, and possible escape routes. Calling for reinforcements. They didn't have time to bicker and argue now. There was a way out, at least out of the Temple. And he knew it. He had lived it. He knew these temples and corridors probably better than nearly anyone. And, if he was correct, there may be someone here who was willing to help them.

Krayt walked over to the two men, placing his hand on his side and channeling the Force to mend his wound, an old holdover power from his days as a Jedi Master.

"I have an idea of how we can get out." Krayt began. He wasn't going to hold his tongue at this point. He planned on sitting in that Throne, but there would be no point if there was no one to rule once he was there. "I spent over a century in the tunnels and tombs here. It's how I came to the Dark Side. XoXann's Tomb called to me. That Tomb probably connects to the Temple. If we can make it to the tunnels, we can follow them through the Tomb and out to the valley."

"Do you really think they'll listen to you?"

"If they want to survive, then yes. I'm offering them a way out. After that, all bets are back off."

"They have no reason to trust you. They'd probably just as soon leave you in the tunnels. I know I would."

"We'll see. Maybe I'll take a solid blow to the head and you'll finally be gone."

Krayt knew staying was hopeless. As much as he wanted to fight, this wasn't a battle they were set to win. It was a shock attack. And a good one at that. It hadn't been expected, and the ones outside had come from seemingly nowhere.

"Most of us are far from allies. But trust me when I say this; there is merit to allying yourselves with enemies to weather a greater storm. We don't have the supplies, resources, or forces to fight this fight."

He looked at their faces, trying to glean some sense of what they were thinking. He could only hope at this point that their intelligence outweighed their pride. To drive the point home, he made one final statement.

"Korriban is lost."

Powers Used

Force Speed - 4
Control Pain - 4
Lightside Healing - 3

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

Darth Traya

Lady of the Sith, the Saarai-Kaar, the Dark Sun

IC: Darth Traya

Location: Communications chamber, Fountain Palace, Hapes

Goledriel bowed woodenly and replied with a mirthless, “Yes my Chume.” and began to move out of the communications chamber. Her departure was most welcome, at least for the time being. It gave Necros Solaar a chance to speak, his words an assurance Traya could have never possibly hoped for. She waited to see if perhaps Darth Dreadwar might have felt her passionate acceptance of the mission, but she sensed nothingness. Either he had nothing to say or she’d been unsuccessful, it was impossible to know.

“I indeed serve the Lord of the Thirteen,” he replied in a whisper, “who is not dead, but who eternal lies. I am an emissary of Nilrebmah, sent from the unknowns, and was instructed to reveal my true allegiances upon receipt of the message.”

“He who is not dead but who eternal lies…” she repeated in a low whisper. She did not believe she’d ever before heard the words, perhaps they had been rasping echoes from a precognitive dream which she could no longer truly recall. She did not know the meaning of the phrase “emissary of Nilrebmah” yet all the same it sent a dark shiver down her spine.

Emperor Dreadwar had called her by her chosen Sith name, Darth Traya. When they’d spoken, she’d not fully realized her name. She’d been Illium then. For Dreadwar to have used her chosen name… this transmission had to have been a more recent one.

He continued, his words insidious as if uttered from a forked tongue. Luckily Traya was well accompanied to the presence of snakes. “You serve us, now, Traya. I shall be in command of the fleet… for to defy me is to defy the will of the Ari, and to defy the Ari is to defy the power of the Crown of Verity, that binds you to your unbreakable oath.”

She kept her voice low enough for Necro alone to hear “Then Necro Solaar, we are in a harmonious agreement. I never forgot my vow to Lord Dreadwar. I never forgot why I was brought here, nor whom I served. It shall be my pleasure to grant you command to the fleet. But…it may prove difficult to get there. I believe that little shutta is going to be a problem meant to stall us . She knows too much already.” Traya seethed and moved toward Goledriel.

Goledriel paused and spoke again. “If you intend on unveiling this… campaign to the masses, might I suggest we attend the throne room first? A private address to your most trusted counsellors might be wise, before speaking to all Aurelia Chume’dan.” Her aura gestured to the right, away from the masses awaiting her guidance.

Traya’s brow furrowed behind her helm. Her suspicion deepened, the wrench was leading her to the throne room for some ill purpose. Traya spared another moment to solidify the illusion waiting in throne room, focus on casting the appropriate shadows to lend the illusion substance, resting the illusion's hand on the treasured Blackwing lightsaber tucked under the silk of her gown, and added her mottled green gizka cuddled on her lap. It was well known that her so-called trusted advisors detested the reptile, and Aurelia made no effort to appease them. Shipsbane accompanied her to most advisories.

You didn’t listen to me, the time of political posturing is over. I will address the people! And you’ve not paid for your crimes!” Traya snarled and concentrated on telekinetically crushing the Ducha’s neck, hopefully constricting her airway in a manner Darth Vader made infamous. She hoped the wretch would gasp and claw at her neck as her windpipe constricted. Yet Traya was unwilling to rely fully upon the Force, for it had its own will, its own ebbs, and flows. Traya pulled free a coil wound around her waist, as she uncoiled the weapon the illusion of a golden, diamond-studded girdle collapsed to reveal an immense obsidian-colored weapon. A living, hissing, writhing weapon with a fang-filled mouth.

Traya snapped the amphistaff at Goledriel legs, hoping to ensnare and coil it around one or both of her feet, and then drag her back to the balcony.

Outside the communications room, she sensed her husband dressed as a woman tense as the conflict roiled, his hands moving to a weapon concealed under the folds of his skirt, yet more importantly, he served as attentive eyes which Traya naturally lacked.

Tag @Darth Dreadwar

Powers Used:

Force Choke: 2

Force Illusion: 3
Last edited:

Darth Cruor

Well-known member
Darth Cruor
Above Korriban

Hellfire engulfed the dragon and it’s rider and while Draa’zekyl suffered greatly due to the engines boiling his flesh and reducing his scales to cinder, Lord Cruor was seemingly unaffected by the intense heat.

Pain and the foreign influence of the sorcerers clouded the dragon’s mind causing it to turn on master, rearing its head around it glowered at Cruor with it’s deadly teeth gnashing menacingly. The Taral’s rage ran cold at his servant’s betrayal, never before had it dared to disobey the Dark Lord much less attack him.

It would never happen again.

Now, in the moment of their triumph, legendary for his lack of tolerance for betrayal under the best of circumstances his response to it here was decisive and final. As Draa’zekyl came around with deadly intent the massive warrior prepared to unleash his own preemptive attack, his clenched fist became a focal point of his power, and in the perfect moment unleashed a Force Punch upon one of his greatest servants but regardless of the outcome of his attack Cruor was already planning his escape.

Darth Cruor’s patience for this was over, with his forces already surrounding the temple the time to convene with the Shadow Council on the Wight Wastes was approaching, whatever was out there hiding from him would have to be dealt with at a later time. Drawing on his command over the Force the True Sith dared attempt to bend space itself and transport himself directly to the Wight Wastes.

Tag: @Darth Dreadwar @Darth Sedicious @Ānhrā Māhnîu

Powers Used:

Force Punch: 5
Fold Space: 5
IC: Darth Mirtis
Execution Grounds, Korriban

The battled raged on a countless fights broke out. Though his scales were ripped off from the attack of the flail, he was thankful his arm was still usable. However, that did not stop him from cursing out loud as the pain shot through his arm. He roared loudly as he thrusted his armored fist at the enemy. After making contact with his fist against them, it caused a slight toothy grin to appear on his scaly lips. He took that opportunity to begin running toward the temple's entrance.

As he neared the temple, he jumped slightly into the air as he summoned the force to grant him the ability of flight. A brief memory flashed into his mind of his escape on Hoth, one where he failed to save a single soul of the crew he belonged to. He leaped into the air as his limbs stretched out, his cloak flapping against the air as if he was a gliding lizard in armor. But that memory was a pale comparison not only what he was capable of, but what he was up against; things of nightmares no mere sentient can face.

"Darth Noxia! Metus! To the battlements! Hurry!" Mirtis yelled as he flew nearby them, a few feet overhead pointed toward the temple. He held out his arms should either of them need to hitch a ride. He aimed to land upon the battlements on the temple in attempts regroup with Darth Noxia and Metus and plan their next course of action. But he could not shake off the feeling of death's cold embrace that seem to be so close. If he had hair instead of scales, they'd surely mimic needles from this ominous feeling. Even in the safety of the behind the shields and walls of the temple, Mirtis believed this army came prepared to tear down some walls. He wondered if this is where it would end or if some miracle would present itself so that he could hunt another day.

Power attempted

TAGs: @Darth Dreadwar
@Darth Kain @Darth Xirr @DarthNoxia @Drakul_Xarxes @Helkosh @G.Kn @DarthThana @DarthFeros @Darth Xxys @Volacius @Metus @Catalyst @corinthia @Reiis Invadator @dragonsith13 @Grievance Vexx @Arach


IC: Metus Aurelius
Location: Korriban Execution grounds - Sith Temple

Blaster fire rang out behind him as Metus charged towards the temple doors, the shields creeping closed. He’d glanced the two creatures near Lady Noxia with his saber but they would not fall. With a hiss the sabers blade disappeared back into the scored and dented emitter, and the warriors head twisted on his shoulders to glance back at the vicious corpse tracking quickly behind him. Metus’s weapon was holstered again. His fingers curled into a half fists, tense claws in which the force gathered into a dense balls in the palm of either hand.

‘Come on you filth, get closer.’ The silent challenge seethed in the Corellians mind.

The Dread Lord Xarxes sprinted along side him though some distance apart. The drumming of his heart filled his ears again; the screams and shredding visions of millennia of battle shown to him in that cursed mirror on Hapes… Fuel for the fire. The temple was all but in reach. Just another second or two and he’d be safe. But what of the others? Darth Mirits and their Lady of Venom, heroics weren’t in this wildlings nature. But the call of the void, that was something ached deep in the very marrow of his bones. An inescapable and overriding need to stare into the heart of death itself. One that surely would be the end of him but if Metus got his way it would not be that day.

Xarxes would appear to race ahead of Metus but it was the warrior that slowed his stride, just several steps before pivoting on the ball of his right foot. The momentum of his speed carried him backward across the sand dusted precipice of the temple entry. The ghoul would he faced with the glowing amber eye of Metus as his wrists clashed together. His fingers strained and crooked like a jagged crown faced the perusing creature. The two balls of force energy collided and were forced into a single point.

“DIE!” A feral scream came from Metus’s throat as a torrent of scarlet waves tore through the air headed toward the ghoul.

“To the battlements!” Was all Metus heard over the roar of his attack, looking to see Mirtis flying toward him. Before the warrior could see if the ghoul had been rent into pieces as he’d intended, Metus reached out and clasped the arm of the passing Darth Mirtis; twisting his body to bring his other hand up to bolster his grip on the Trandoshan. Skyward they went to the temple battlements.

Powers: Force Burst - 3

TAG:@Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Helkosh, @G.Kn, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Volacius, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Arach, @Reatith Blodraald , @Cardun Vrek


Active member
IC: Darth Noxia

Location: Korriban

She had no time to acknowledge Metus’s warning with a nod or even a simple glance. She had one goal. Get to the temple. The sound of bone crunching all around her, metal clanging and…teeth gnashing….Kriff! She let go of the zombie’s vertebrae and thrust out her hand in an attempt to instantly increase the bones’ velocity to lethal speeds. “Head’s up!” She shouted as the skull would hurl towards the zombie that was intent on attacking Metus.

“The shields!” She shouted after Mirtis called out for them to get to the high ground. Her eyes rose up. Focusing her force energy, she leaped, using the force to propel her to the battlements above. She darted into the temple, her eyes closed for a second, wondering if she had made it.

Reverberating voices. Vibrations of those alive; truly alive. And those who had not been so lucky. Darth Noxia opened her eyes. She saw many on the battlements, looking outward towards the slaughter. Her head jerked to the side, noticing Lord Catalyst readying himself. She gave a nod. She supposed it was good that she made it up when she did.

Mirtis and Metus had made it in as well. She waisted no time. “This is a hot box. We are trapped if we stay here. We have to find a way out and away from that Horde. Either of you ever study the temple system here on Korriban?” She smirked. “You may get the chance.”

The Togruta paused, considering whether to rally a small group or to go alone. She wanted to know what that was all about, and Darth Hesper seemed to know. “We should try to find Darth Hesper,” she said to her two generals. “Let’s see if she is here. She has answers that we need, but we should be quick. I don’t want to linger any longer than we have to.”

(Powers used:
Bastillakinesis 3
Force Jump 2)

TAGS:@Admiral Volshe, @Darth Kain, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Helkosh, @G.Kn, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Volacius, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Arach, @Reatith Blodraald , @Cardun Vrek


Active member
IC: Sparky

Sparky charged headlong into the fray, twisting and whipping through the skeletal army to reach his owner. But alas, it was not enough, and at the very moment he locked his photoreceptors upon his besieged Master, he was ripped to shreds. He chirped frantically in droidspeak until his vocal receptors were ripped from his metal corpse. In his final moments, Sparky did not remember any of the times they'd fought together, or trained together. He did not remember the long, lonely hours in hyperspace, the hours of listening to Pravum's ramblings. He did not remember being Pravum's confidante, his most closely trusted ally, or the closest thing to a friend Pravum ever had.

No, Sparky remembered none of those things at the moment of his death. Instead, he found himself, intentionally or unintentionally he would never know, accessing a memory file from many years ago. In the memory, Sparky locked into place on a shelf, an object for sale. He could see, but could not move. He remembered watching as a shockingly small young redhead entered the store, remembered him looking right at him, and remembered his outstretched, bony finger pointing at him. He remembered the restraints being removed, remembered the storekeeper making small talk with the boy as they completed the purchase. "So, kid, gonna give it a name?", he'd asked in a gruff voice. "I hadn't considered it.", the boy had replied with a shrug.

He remembered leaving the store, his joints freshly oiled, walking for the first time in years, perhaps the first time in his existence for all he knew. He remembered stepping carefully onto the gleaming, chromium-plated yacht. As the last of his processors blinked out of existence, he recalled one last line from that fateful day.

"Welcome home... Sparky. No, no, that's a terrible name. I'll think of something better."

IC: Darth Pravum

"*chirps sadly*" - Sparky, a lot

The skeletons resisted his Force lightning, though it was clear that he'd damaged them. They appeared to lack a pain response, continuing to advance as he burnt ancient flesh from their carcasses. Their lavanroks, an old Sith weapon he recalled from some dusty old tome, swung by him, bouncing off the armor of a nearby Shadow Guard. I've got to get myself one of those., he thought to himself as he briefly admired the set of armor.

The lavanrok, he recalled, was a two-part weapon. There was the polearm, a spear of sorts, that which had just passed him harmlessly, and the... Oh, Shiraya, he'd forgotten about the poisoned discs. And so did they come, racing toward his abdomen. His cleverly disguised battle armor might've been able to brunt the blow, but Pravum's instincts were moving him before he could consider it. His hands whipped out in front of him, unleashing telekinetic energy that sought to push away the discs and their skeletal originators along with them.

His communicator crackled briefly and died, and Pravum noticed his IG-100 droid going down out of the corner of his eye, helpless to save it in his current predicament. He felt an odd pressure in the center of his chest, as if a single heartstring had snapped. A curious sensation, and one he'd never felt before. But for the moment, he lacked the time to process it.

Powers used: Telekinesis (4), Force Wave (2)
IC: Darth Vesper
Location: Dex’s Diner, Desrini District, Coruscant

Once within the confines of the rebuilt diner - a longstanding memoriam to the old Dex’s Diner of the Clone Wars - Lady Vesper deactivated her sabers momentarily and inhaled a gulp of dusty, debris filled air. The intake into her lungs caused her to choke out a struggling cough as the soldiers took in their surroundings and took up their posts around the decrepit building. “My lady, the chaingun turret,” Ko said. “Can you reposition it?”

The abandoned artillery was being manhandled by two Sith Stormtroopers in an attempt to turn the heavy gun with no success; a mere ten meters from their current location at the diner. The Sith Sorceress was quite aware that her prowess would need to be put on display at this point in time. “Cover me.” It was evident she had something up her sleeve, something that wasn’t a party trick or child’s play. Momentarily her eyes fell closed as she pulled upon the strings of the ornate web of the universe. Weaving an intricate pattern, her lips moving. It was as if the words uttered from her lips were intertwined with the weaving within the mind’s eyes; as if a veil fell over not just those within the diner, but the two stormtroopers as well.

She then pulled mentally upon a thread and the artillery gun began to inch without aid from the troopers positioned and cloaked by its side. It was repositioned just as Ko had wanted. Flying open once more she took in the lay of the land with her eyes for once having just sensed their surroundings. “I need better coverage. We need to distance ourselves from the crowd.” Crimson eyes darted to the stormtroopers, the Imperial Knights, and back to Ko. “We need to move.” Apparently the Sith was not done yet, she knew full well, however, that if they stayed in their same location it would be as if they had been swallowed alive.

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

Force Powers Used:

Spell of Concealment - 4
Telekinesis - 4
IC: Nacros Telcontare
Location: Sith Temple, Korriban

There was a ruckus and energy in the temple that Nacros had never before seen or experienced. His master replied to his question, "From what I can tell," he began, "There are thousands of pyramidal ships just hanging in the atmosphere, dropping full pods of Korriban zombies that are sieging the Sith. It's strange. Generally those zombies serve Sith Sorcerers. I can't imagine the forces behind these. The Dark Side has never felt stronger than this moment."

Nacros, in a rhetorical manner, replied almost right away, "Well kriff, is that all?" A slight smirk came to his face as he also said, "To think, I'm missing a training session, ordered by Lady Apollyon herself, in the dungeons for this." He chuckled out loud and said, "Guess we'll have to reschedule that."

There was much going on in the room all at once. Many, if not most all of them were people he did not recognize moving about the room. He did his best to follow the conversations going on, and learn what he could of the situation. From what he gathered so far, it would be a very eventful rest of the day. He was ready for whatever challenges they might face. He thought to himself, "Fighting the undead might be something I lack experience in, but if it moves, I'm sure we can make it to not move... I hope anyway...." He readied himself mind and body best he could, making sure that if he would be called on for anything, he would be ready to serve his fellow Sith.

TAGS: @skira, @Darth Nathemus @Jihadi Quartz, @Voidwalker, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Solus, @Reatith Blodraald, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Dreadwar

Darth Kain

Legendary Member
Dark Council
IC: Darth Kain, the Beloved Prince of the Stars
The Battlements, Sith Temple, Korriban

Many of the Sith below had scrambled inside, it seemed, with those unable to either dead or dying. The Beloved Prince watched, warily, for any sign of needed assistance. Catalyst, Xarxes, and a few others had made it up here just fine, running over possible courses of action. Krayt had even survived, unfortunately.

The mention of a name had nearly distracted him, fatally in the case of his quarry. A name he had heard many times within the memories of another. One of the first thirteen. Betrayed by the most dreaded of its members.

Speak, and I shall show you a darker path to truth…

To speak to Krayt and the others regarding their suggestions would have to come momentarily, as there was no doubt that Apollyon was about to speak in turn. And besides, it appeared that someone had sensed his offer of aid. And it was… the scribe?

Xarxes apparently viewed this man as dispensable. Why shouldn’t he?

Then again, a potential ally, no matter how small, could be a boon in the future. Besides, it appeared no one else was in any sort of state to call on the aid of the Dark Messiah. Another who viewed him as their savior could prove useful.

And nobody would take his goodwill for granted…

The Beloved Prince of the Stars moved his thoughts around the Chagrian, hoping to - relatively speaking - gently cradle him with telekinetic energy before pulling him upwards, towards the battlements where he was aimed to land beside Lord Xarxes. Hopefully, he would land on his feet. And if not, well, then that undead horde down there would claim another victim.


TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Darth Xirr, @DarthNoxia, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Helkosh, @G.Kn, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xxys, @Volacius, @Metus, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Reiis Invadator, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Arach, @Voidwalker, @skira, @Jihadi Quartz

Powers Used

Telekinesis (5) - Force Pull (3)
[Intended to help Zyldek onto the battlements, not snap him in half or anything]

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