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

IC: REATITH BLODRAALD
LOCATION: UNDERDELVE

~~~

Roshkas poked his head out from under the hood and continued to scan. Lord Solus barked his orders and Reatith considered it for a moment. Why did The Consulate care so much for those children? When he was a child, he was forced to learn how to fend for himself, and also how to work together for a common goal. It made him strong and capable of survival and working in sync with others despite personal qualms. Taking care of children was a hindrance. What could they do to help them survive and fight back? Perhaps it was their potential and the future of the order that Solus foresaw? But was the Order worth having a future at this point if it produced this type of disorganization and infighting during an emergency. Some of the few that seemed to be trying was Lord Solus and the Lord Pravum, they had ideas that would actually help, the rest..... who knew. Perhaps if he survived this, he would need to find power on his own.

In the meantime, he followed orders. He crept down the Dark tunnels next to Mavros, looking closely for any potential dangers. He held both his sabers at his sides fingering the activation switches, ready to ignite them at any sign of danger.

~~~

TAGs: @Darth Kain, @Darth Dreadwar , @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthFeros, @DarthNoxia , @corinthia, @Arach, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Metus, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Voidwalker, @Darth Cruor

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corinthia

Administrator
Staff member
Administrator
Immortalis
IC: Imperatrix Hesper
Descending into the underdelve


The time had come for Hesper to follow her own commands. The air around her was electrified with panic, energy buffeting like air beat by the propellers of some ancient aircraft. In her chest, her heart thumped with a heaviness that made it painful to suck in her next deep breath. Everything seemed to be moving at half-speed. Looking down, she saw a herd of the smallest of the Sith passing by her knees, their tiny, worried faces looking up at her and begging for comfort in a time of fear. Hesper's heart twisted painfully. From across the small dungeon, Wyyrlok's barked orders to leave the crechelings chafed Hesper, and she bristled as Arach flung a searing retort at the red-skinned Chagrian woman. Anger flushed Hesper's cheeks with violent red, and it was all she could do to bite back an even stronger and sharper response to such a ludicrous suggestion. They were children! She ought to wring that harlot's neck, she thought, fingers beginning to curl and raise in a gesture to mimic wrapping a pale hand around that woman's throat for even suggesting such a—

Then—the room shook. Above, the ceiling cracked, fine stone dust falling in unnerving plumes. It was time. She had to run.

Her mind immediately jumped to Sorin, in the war room above. He hadn't acknowledged or replied to her telepathic cry out to him, and the realization made her heart sink. He wasn't coming back. "Dammit," she swore aloud. And she found herself far more upset than she might have been, had it been anyone else. She didn't want to leave him behind, but with how the ground beneath her feet was beginning to quake, there was no more waiting around for someone who had made a choice that went against what Hesper desired. At Arach's urging, Hesper turned on her heel, casting a glance at the Arkanian Hesperian, Nacros, who had appeared and taken up position at Hesper's flank. The air was growing colder and colder, and thoughts of her former master lurked in the back of her mind like creeping shadows, encroaching on her consciousness and darkening her vision.

Taking a breath, Hesper began pushing her way through the panicked throng in the dungeon, shoving writhing bodies towards the steps she was heading for; soon enough, her own feet were upon them. Those thousand dangerous steps down into a black abyss, where their promised salvation lie in wait. She almost felt disembodied as she descended into the underdelve, her focus sharpening to a single, pointed resolve: they would survive.


 

DarthNoxia

Active member
IC: Darth Noxia
Location: Korriban Tunnels


The threads of the force had been cut. She had paused her retreat, wasted valuable time. “Kriff,” she muttered. She didn’t have time to over analyze the reasons why she had failed. She had to get moving. She looked around, still unable to locate Mirtis and Metus. They had been right behind her. She would have to trust that they would make it. She reached out to them in her mind. "Get to the dungeons!" she called. It was up to them to make it now.

She had to catch up with the group. To be caught alone here was certain death. There was strength in numbers. The more people around her, the better chance she had at survival. She didn’t have to outrun the enemy...Just those who also ran from them.

But the curiosity about the enemy persisted in her mind. She wanted answers and Lady Hesper had them. She had to catch up…

Despite her fatigue, she once again focused her energy. She had to try or be left behind. She felt the exhaustion, the failure she had just experienced, the fear of what might happen if she failed again. She looked to the path before her and began to run...

(Powers Used: Telepathy, Force Speed)

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

Jen'nu

Legendary Member
Moderator
Dark Council
Chapter X: Ahead of the Dead
Combo IC: Ānhrā Māhnîu, Darth Sedicious, Naffa ben Jzora.
Location: Approaching the Eternal Fleet, near Bosthirda.

Ānhrā Māhnîu’s Theme:



1a2cdd32cbb9e3a7664b4774531d6c2f_large.jpgFulfillment had come. The ultimate power in the universe, here in front of him. The power of life itself, standing in the void of space, at the tip of his tongue. The spectral forms of the deceased, distorted by his own dark design into uncanny facsimiles of life, had come. And from there came elation. One after another, every limit the cosmos could impose were immolated by his hand.
Yet with glee came bile. Out of the ten he had summoned, only seven had answered. His authority remained incomplete. A combination of diamantine mental discipline and bio-mechanical impulses suppressed his ire. He would make due with what he had.

He had to wonder momentarily why his companions in the ship had not managed the same level of utility. So far there seemed to be no communication or directing attempted for the recent arrivals. His eyes darkened with further frustration at this stagnant inefficiency.
‘’Fine. I’ll do it myself.’’ He leapt onto the ship’s navigation board, reactivating the communication’s array. That only left the question of which frequency to use. Recent precedent had made it clear that his regular frequencies were not ubiquitous in this area of space. On the other hand the ratio of Sith ships to Federation ones would still be rather high here. And on the third hand he was safely concealed in this distant speck of a carrier, as his presence in the Force began shrinking once again. The standard Sith frequency was switched in.

‘’Hailing all ships. Come in. Respond immediately. Identify yourselves, your purpose, and your allegiance.’’ A beat passed. Then with a crackle:
‘’This is Hesperian flagship the Auspex. Our allegiance is to the High Priestess Hesper; we are awaiting further orders from our commanders on Korriban.’’ It was a woman’s voice, thickly accented by a decidedly Core worlds lilt.

High Priestess Hesper. The name thundered through his neurons. The legendary Butcher of Coruscant, returned from the aether. Certainly an intriguing precedent. Korriban however… He had not noticed anyone arriving before their departure, their abominable adversaries notwithstanding. What relation could Darth Hesper possibly have to all this? Simulations sprung up, but for now they would have to run their course. He would have to be quick in his next exchange.

IMG_7281.jpg‘’Very well Auspex. This is Zhaelor Jen’nu of the New Sith Order. Listen very closely. Korriban is under attack by unknown hostiles, aided by beings of immense power. I only escaped them by a hair’s breadth. What you see before you is a graveyard of Federation forces, destroyed by the very ships approaching you. They are certainly hostile, and about to attack. Interdiction mines are scattered throughout the area, so you will have to fight your way out. I have the means to support you. They seem to be automated: use ion weapons and ready your fighter wings. Do not hesitate, give no quarter.’’
‘’Negative, Jen'nu. We are on standby to receive evacuees from Korriban, and I'm not particularly interested in squandering our forces if it is unnecessary to do so. We remain unapproached and the fleet is unresponsive to our attempts at contact.’’

As the ghastly specters were pulled through the hull and converged in the cockpit, the eyes of their new numen scrounged shut in frustration, fingers carving into his forehead. Was this ever going to go his way?
‘’You are more likely to die than save a single life there. An entire enemy fleet appeared over Korriban. They were able to infiltrate the heart of our territory without raising any alarm.’’ The stream of words stopped dead in his throat.

Whoever these enemies were, they had managed to dispatch an entire fleet of ships into the Stygian Caldera, past all Sith-aligned systems and target Korriban without anyone even noticing. This would require either anomalously advanced technology, or inside information. Combining the two remained an option, but one would be absolutely necessary.

Deciding to employ a name no one knew as an alias seemed to grow wiser by the femtosecond.

Their nebulous enemies could be anywhere, listening to anything, seeing everything. How could his, out of all minds in the galaxy, not have considered this sooner? He had been distracted, horrendously so. The amount of safe avenues ahead were rapidly getting cut down.
He spun around to face Sedicious, instantaneously running through what languages they would both be conversant in, but remain unintelligible to their partners-in-conversation. Ultimately he landed on a High Sith dialect. Yet his fellow Lord had preempted any potential suggestion he could make.

IMG_5991.JPGA scintillating ocean of conscious force molested the great dreadnought, descending upon and within, trailing with an invigorating Dark Side presence. The mind of Darth Sedicious, expanded to a great panoptical titan by arcane meditation, bonded lightly to every conscious spirit aboard, weaving a temporary thread connecting all minds to another.

The Lord of Ghosts and the General of the Auspex spoke without certainty. With his help, they could see the future in person. A singularity, immured by two sapphire stars, pulled their minds together, and it forced its will upon them. Perhaps his fellow Sith could resist had he so desired, but likely none deaf to the will of the Force. The imagery was powerful—Sedicious could see it: the allied ships held their ground and prepared for battle, their wills no longer fully theirs. The TIE Reaper, the weak vessel they had sailed through hadalpelagic blackness and atomizing blue, landed within, allowing the twin sorcerers a better path forward.



Powers used:
Sith Illusions - 4.
Battle Meditation - 4.

Art of the Small - 10.

(TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Darth Sedicious, @corinthia)
 
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Dorrian Shadowsun

Active member
IC: Dorrian Shadowsun
The Aximand, Axum system
The ringing in the Maelibus' ears made his temples throb. Squinting his eyes involuntarily he nodded as the others spoke while they traveled to their destination, each moment passing made his temples throb more and the voices muddle together further until they were a cacophony of dull, lifeless sounds. He nodded as he turned and headed into the nearest hall to clear his mind and dull the throbbing pain that was starting to turn his stomach. Wavering on his feet, Dorrian stretched out his hand to find the nearest wall as he leaned heavily upon it and dragged himself down the hall some distance, only stopping because a bench got in his way.

Glancing out the nearby viewport did little to calm his now severely unsettled insides. Dorrian watched as the stars began to spin counterclockwise causing him to wretch violently down the wall and all over the floor and wall in front of him. The world went dark for him as he collapsed onto the bench in front of him.

"Sir...Sir ... are you alright? Can you hear me?" The mechanical voice of a protocol droid beckoned Dorrian back to consciousness. Dorrian sat up slowly, ushered so by both the droid and a nearby crew member of the Aximand.

"Yes. I hear you. I must have been more drained than I previously thought. Thank you." Dorrian's voice rumbled in the hall, despite him speaking quietly. Glancing around he noticed they sat above Axum already, so some time had passed.

Someone already cleaned up my sick, must have been out a while. I should go see what the others are up to. Dorrian's mind listed on the thought of him laying on the bench, face down, sick splattered everywhere as the crew simply tried to get on with their day. He shook his head to clear the rampaging thoughts before heading to the bridge.

Upon entering the bridge he heard the distress message playing over and over for the others. He quickly made his way to the group as it played.

“This is Dame Cruella Vandron of Axum Central Command, requesting immediate evacuation from the Sith Garrison’s western landing pad at coordinates 344.6, 668.9. Everything within fifteen miles is dead, Sith Masters evacuated without us. The Brass Soldiers of Axum are alive—and destroying everything in their path. I repeat, the Brass Soldiers of Axum have come alive, and are destroying everything in their path.”

Hearing the message more clearly now that he was closer, Dorrian stood in mild shock at hearing the Masters on Axum had abandoned everyone. He glanced around at the group to see their reactions and look for confirmation on them intervening.

Tags: @Darth Dreadwar, @Senec Tinople, @Rayge, @Oberleutnant Deleritas, @Kint Dranlor
 
IC: Darth Mirtis
Setting: Tunnels beneath Sith Temple

His request was fulfilled as he could feel his healing taking effect. Though it wasn't much, Mirtis was relieved he could accomplish that much. Taking a step back, he watched her concentrate on her flames; the heat felt soothing on his red scales.

"I am willing. I'll shout if anything appears." With a nod of assurance, Mirtis looked around as if something would appear out of thin air just to test his words whether they be true or not. He did also feel anxious as Darth Noxia has yet to appear where they were. Maybe an enemy appeared from the rear? His only assurance was he was not dying on the floor from being far away from her which meant she was alive and hopefully nearing to his location.

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

Rayge

Active member
Moderator
Dark Council
IC:
Death Knight
Rayge Vigör



Location:
Above Axum, in communication with the Sith Garrison




Dreams…Nightmares...Visions…


Rayge quickly fell into a coma-like slumber upon entering his assigned room, the burden from the horrid events still weighing heavy on his mind and the trauma ever apparent across his body. His rest mirrored the past incident, calm and heavy at first but the deeper he sunk into his thoughts the more hellish they grew until the fear, hate, and anger overflowed out of him.


Fear for those he called brother and for his own life.


Hate for the creature that devoured the planet before his eyes.


Anger towards himself for his failure and helplessness during the whole ordeal.


Just as the void swallowed him wholly a chime came from his comms unit breaking the curse of a rest he was suffering through. A message rang through repeatedly and each time settled differently with Rayge.


“This is Dame Cruella Vandron of Axum Central Command, requesting immediate evacuation from the Sith Garrison’s western landing pad at coordinates 344.6, 668.9. Everything within fifteen miles is dead, Sith Masters evacuated without us. The Brass Soldiers of Axum are alive—and destroying everything in their path. I repeat, the Brass Soldiers of Axum have come alive, and are destroying everything in their path.”


His first reaction was that he was still dreaming, his subconscious melding fiction and reality into one. The next was of sheer disbelief as if he had misunderstood the message even though he was listening to it over and over. Finally, his last was that of realization that they hadn't escaped danger at all, it seemed as if the entire galaxy was imploding into a chaotic catastrophe while spiraling into oblivion with no hope of turning back.


Bringing himself to rouse, he furnished his armor before making a direct path to meet up with the others on the bridge and to see what the plan of action was. They were unprepared just like before but this time failure is not an option and Rayge would not accept defeat any longer.


Lost in his thoughts as he entered the bridge he briefly noticed the look of dread on the face of the crew but instead of lingering on lesser beings he approached Omegon


"What's the plan of action, brother?"


An eagerness was apparent as his words pridefully erupted from his jaws.


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

Darth Dreadwar

Active member
Immortalis
GM Update
Responses due Sunday night

IC: No one in particular

Sith Temple, Korriban

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Carnage.

That is the sight that greeted Darth Nathemus as he ascended the short flight of stairs leading from the dungeons, Voidwalker of Onderon in his shadow. The desperate denizens of the banquet hall, arrayed in black with lightsabers of flaming red, had become the feast, a smorgasbord of fear on which powers older and fouler than the most depraved phantasy of the mortal mind gladly supped. Where wine once flowed in copious flagons, now blood splashed upon a floor of broken ceramic and shattered glass in great slashing patterns of spattered red. Where a thousand Sith had dined less than an hour prior, now only the cadaverous enemy of the unknowns fed their esurient appetites, each deathly, unhallowed eidolon of undoubtedly antiquarian menace wreaking havoc in the unique manners of their particular diabolical specialties.

A dozen Sith Knights, racing towards the dungeons whence Nathemus dared a peek, fell to their knees ten steps before the Lord of Pain, tendrils of crimson light, radiant in an arterial shade too dark and too red for such impossible brilliance, extruding from their chests. Hands reached for Nathemus in dolorous entreaty, but nothing could save the unfortunate souls from the ruinous power that claimed them, nor the dark fate decreed them. Their eyes sunk in their sockets as if the optic tracts had abruptly dissolved into fine filaments of decay, all the fat and musculature that etched such expressions of agony and horror upon their stricken countenances draining away, and by the time their now-emaciated corpses impacted the cracked tiles of stone, their skin had become the thinnest film of wispy, translucent rot wrapped heinously around fragile frames of crumbling bone. The light died with them, before even the swiftest jerk of the head could ascertain its source.

Beyond them, a Nautolan apprentice swung his lightsaber in frantic arcs of pinwheeling plasma towards the snarling, scarlet-skinned cacodaemons that assailed him, his human master jabbing with his own double-bladed weapon at the bloodthirsty ogres circling behind. It was no use; there were too many. A flash of metal, and the master was falling, rusted axehead buried in his back, while the bladed tip of an exotic halberd opened the apprentice’s thigh, a prodigious spurt of blood spraying forth from a sliced femoral artery.

On the left, some thrice a dozen Sith were recoiling from some mercifully obscured figure in the entrance hall, turning only to show Nathemus the pink, frothy vomit flowing from their open, sore-spotted mouths, pustules and peculiarly pulsing buboes bursting upon sweat-soaked bodies of feverish sickness, eyes and ears hemorrhaging blood in preternatural plague while their legs locked and shook in violent, maddening seizure.

Such were the scenes of horror that greeted Nathemus’ gaze, a tide of bodies pressing against him as panicked Sith sought the briefest of refuges in the passageway against which he pressed his back, while hundreds of their braver kin opted to die with vestiges of dignity, red lightsabers flashing defiance at the innumerable horde of caliginous skeletons and aberrant abominations flooding the temple. The shadow-ghouls and soldiers of Viscretus’ thraldom offered peculiarly coordinated challenge, and Hadzuska’s phantasmal Rakghouls, piling out of the dungeons behind in their loping, knuckle-bounding ambulation, attacked with an inhuman savagery, but the enemy simply numbered too many, too many by far. With each passing second, hundreds were pouring into the banquet hall from the sands beyond; chariots with bladed wheels, mowing down defenders before lightsabers could ignite, rabid undead infantry with pikes longer than any laser sword’s reach, savage alien warriors bearing tendrilous visages and tenebrous weapons of wickedness. This was no battle; this was butchery.

Amidst this melange of lethophobic anxieties, Nathemus made his move, projecting invisible waves of his own penumbral sorcery against the three spectral wraiths wading into the fray near the entrance hall. The effects were subtle, at first, the ebon breastplates adorning the two taller, armoured ghasts flaking and rusting under the cumulative weight of entropy’s relentless onslaught, but the spindly wight-mage barking orders at the scarlet-skinned witches beside him took notice at once, the crowned head of the moribund lich snapping straight towards the queer path of accelerated age carved thus through the crowd. The lich’s hoarse voice rose in a shout, and the shadowy hands of the three revenants rose to meet Nathemus’ power, but it was not enough to halt the unnatural passage of time that at once ravaged their forms. Swords and axes rusted and blunted, lightsabers sparked out as ancient wiring failed, and within rotting sinews, joints popped and bones fractured.

Nathemus had succeeded in catching the enemy by surprise, and the lich fell to his back, crown rolling from his grimacing skull as the straps holding the helm fast to his mummiform visage withered under Darkshear’s curse. The armoured wraith beside him fell to one knee, the crimson sparks of his eyes flaring behind his grim mask, while the taller titan beside him, rearing up to his full height in defiance of the entropic waves assailing him, let forth a terrible roar. Behind them, vast chunks of cyclopean masonry fissured and fell loose, a cloud of dust billowing from the entrance hall as the temple’s already-buckled gates collapsed entirely.

Retaliation was swift and indiscriminate. Although the lich yet remained prone, hands swiping as if at some invisible foe he alone could perceive, perhaps stunned or enfeebled, his two compatriots had weathered the assault with sterner will, and at once moved to attack. The tallest of the malefactors leapt towards the dungeon entrance with a single Force-fuelled bound, discarding the ruined axe in his hand while reaching for a second slung over his back. The other rose with hand outstretched, and a faint, scraping noise ripped past Nathemus and Voidwalker, like the air was violently evacuating their vicinity. Then the pain struck, as the very Force recoiled from an invisible field of deathly power, and Nathemus’ cracked and ruined body began to slough hideously large pieces of carbuncled flesh, while Voidwalker’s countenance took on a suddenly gaunt and unhealthy aspect, wrinkles growing around sallow cheeks while his heart began to thump with tremulous irregularity within his chest, as if placed under tremendous strain.

Mercifully, a fourth shade had not yet seen Nathemus, only the outcome of his attack. Turning from the fallen bodies of three Sith Masters who had foolishly rushed him, Darth Dreadwar the Magnificent raised a stygian gauntlet towards the entrance, an invisible hand to lift shattered stone. The collapsed doorway had stemmed the flood of death, and barred entry to the remaining Shadow Councillors. Darth Cruor was left on the other side of the blockage, and although his own attacker was vanquished in similarly short order, crushed to a bloody, bony pulp by Cruor’s overwhelming power, there perhaps presented itself an opportunity for more vital usage of his telekinetic strength: clearing the entranceway before the momentum of the advance was lost.

And for Nathemus and Voidwalker, perhaps the greatest mercy of all was that the white-robed figure, now horrifically revealed as his plague-stricken victims fell twitching to the floor, was occupied elsewhere. His gaze was to the east, staring at the terminus of the banquet hall on the far side, to the right of the throne room beyond. The slightest, briefest distraction for a being whose attention was distributed a thousand which ways, yet enough to save the two Sith from instant death.

Beyond the temple walls, in a patch of unoccupied desert on the far side of the temple, where no scelerous undead yet trod, Darth Kain whirled into being. The eastern wall of the temple rose tall and mighty, and the thousand black pyramids hovered in their ominous omnipresence in the darkening sky above. The army of the enemy was a distant thing from this vantage point, tiny figures of faint unease racing towards the Temple’s western wall, and even the uproar of battle, the thundering of stone as the monstrous Gorog pounded the Emperor’s tower into the beginnings of a slow, southward-tilting fall, was eerily quiet. It was not clear, then, why such an awful, oily sensation pressed down around Kain, a terrible feeling of exposure and chilling vulnerability, as if some malefic gaze was staring directly at him. The Force was silently screaming, and as the wind whipped around Kain’s cloak, it would become obvious that Viscretus’ spell had concealed nothing from whichever baleful power had been drawn to his sudden apparition.

From unseen decks and unhallowed halls, from a thousand feet in the air, the thousand eyes of Mnggal-Mnggal stared at that single, solitary figure standing in the desert.




Behind Nathemus and Voidwalker, behind the infernal mirage of Sol Kira, the dungeons were beginning to collapse.

As the Emperor’s tower fell before the Gorog’s power, dust billowed from the crumbling stairway on the left, and huge chunks of rock detached from the dungeons’ stone ceiling to smash fissures into the floor. Hesper ducked into the downward stairway on the right just in time, beginning her descent into the underlevels just as a jagged, L-shaped piece of masonry smacked into the spot where she had been standing, perilously close to Nacros. Noxia’s burst of Force-fuelled speed allowed her to dodge the debris, but smaller pellets of stone dogged her steps, skittering after Draconis and Feros, and peppering Grievance’s bone-white frame. Only the protective powers of Solus and Catalyst, projected from below, prevented more lethal results, but nonetheless, there were only seconds left to evacuate the dungeons, and far too many Sith crammed into its narrow passageway.

Wyyrlok’s shout of alarm was drowned out by the screams of the younglings. Between Solus’ stern authority and Arach’s gentle urging, the immediate safety of many had been assured, dozens of pint-sized neophytes toddling down the long, crooked stairway of stone into the abyssal darkness of the cavern beneath, but a frightful quantity of dust was spilling into that vast vault, now, and the lungs of those still descending the thousand steps into the underdelve began to spasm, screams of fright giving way to choked coughs and desperate, hurried gasps of laborious breath.

Mercifully, light bloomed in the darkness to illuminate the children’s passage, terror-struck eyes reflecting billowing orange. At the bottom of those terrible stairs of madness, fire rose into the black, snarling and leaping as it took malicious form, three golems of flame sprouting from Thana’s sorcery to tower amidst shadow and stone. Hearing the great, daemoniacal roar behind her, Apollyon wrenched her gaze from the console in Viscretus’ hands, whirling towards the fiery titans. Seeing the hand of Thana in their shaping, she breathed a sigh, nodding approvingly as she turned back—and pausing mid-motion. It was just as well Thana had frightened her; if not, she would not have seen the six, robed figures slink out of the darkness of the eldritch doorway on her left, bone masks grinning above pitted swords of iron.

Viscretus had elected not to deactivate the hypergate, and the datapad had merely shuffled back to its first screen, revealing the list of options exhausted—and only one change to those initial lines of cryptic text: MATTER STREAM INCOMING. From the black sands of distant Nilrebmah, the shadow slayers were coming forth, one advancing on Xxys as he reached the bottom of the stairs, another setting the hollow gaze of its empty eye-sockets on Keres and Kira, a third raising its hand in the direction of Mavros, Mirtis and Blodraald. The width of the doorway prevented the entire horde Kain had glimpsed from entering at once, but the Force was wailing with ever-rising alarm.

Nonetheless, for Viscretus and Pravum, such warnings were but whispers compared to the screaming void in the Force upon which they focused, as they pressed their minds against Darth Dreadwar above. The void was all-consuming, colder than Ziost’s wastes, as indifferent and ancient as a glacier, and the closer their minds strayed to its caliginous edge, the more that roaring singularity pulled from them. The black gulf of Dreadwar’s presence swallowed the energies they marshalled against him as if the Force itself went to die in its depths, and the merest mental glimpse of that awful wound sent them reeling, a brush with such gorgonising power disrupting even Viscretus’ prodigious concentration.

Young Deianara had just begun her tale as bidden, but the apparitions of the shadow slayers swiftly interrupted her effort to comfort the younglings crowding the bottom of the stair. “Well, a long time ago, there was a big dumbo called Naga Sadow who thought he could take over the galaxy, and a smart man called Ludo Kressh who was very rashnul—mama, look out!” Deianara instinctively reached for Cordé’s hand beside her, her backward motion pulling her much older half-sister towards the stony countenance of Muur behind them, only to be arrested as she collided with Volacius’ legs in her scramble.

In that strange and frightful tunnel leading from Muur’s throat, Xarxes advanced before the eyes of Xiannarr and Karin. The shyracks had not attempted attack, only flight, but the power Xarxes had summoned had been more than sufficient to stop such, and the winged underdwellers screeched as they futilely beat against the telekinetic hand holding them in midair. The crypts on either side of the tunnel displayed little more than Xarxes had already absorbed, the mummies resting in open sarcophagi within the chambers, the fossilised skeletons resting in the catacombs. Around the bend in the tunnel ahead, a distant seam of light, the tiniest, vertical sliver of red, could be seen. A doorway? A thread of energy? From hundreds of meters away, what lay ahead was veiled in mystery and darkness.


mapcavern.png

TAGs: @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia

OOC:
Viscretus uses Drain Force on an Imperial Knight, rolling 4 + 23 + 10 against DC 30, and succeeds; Effect is 8 + Modifier of 5 - Debuff of 5, a slight success that replenishes her Force reserves for one additional feat of strenuous casting compared to usual exhaustion mechanics.

Viscretus attempts Mind Trick on Darth Dreadwar, rolling 14 + 23 + 10 against DC 50; the attempt fails against Dreadwar’s iron will.

Darth Kain uses Fold Space, rolling 11 + 21 + 10 against DC 30, and succeeds; Effect is 23 + 5 - 5, and Kain’s desired teleportation to the unoccupied desert outside the far wall of the Temple (on the opposite side of the incoming True Sith army) is achieved in full.

Viscretus attempts Spell of Concealment on Darth Kain, rolling a natural 1. Brushing Dreadwar’s aura severely disrupts her connection to the Force, and the attempt fails.

Hadzuska’s Sith Illusions attack the enemy, and although they have no effect on the Korriban zombies, we can roll for attacks against the Massassi and other enemies; a single Attack Roll of 16 + 15 + 5 will be used against multiple (arbitrated as twenty) opponents, succeeding against DC 20 and inflicting 16 + 2 - 5 Damage each, reducing the HP of twenty opponents to 7.

Cruor’s attacker rolls a 19 + 15 + 5 - 3 against DC 45, and fails, as Cruor seizes him telekinetically first. Cruor uses Force Crush on his opponent, rolling a 12 + Bonus of 3; Damage is 24 + Modifier of 5 + Bonus of 5, depleting his attacker’s HP to 0. Cruor’s Battle Meditation remains in effect, but as Cruor is mobile and no longer truly meditating, its effects are weakened. Cruor’s HP is repleted by another 5.

Mavros deploys Corpse-vision, which will debuff enemy attacks after this point.

Feros deploys Battle Meditation, which will buff and debuff allies and enemies after this point; however, as Feros is mobile and not truly meditating, its effects are weakened.

Karin’s attempt at Cryokinesis rolls 16 + Modifiers against DC 10, and succeeds; Effect is 5 + 5 - Debuff of 5, and the sword is cooled, but no ice forms.

Pravum attempts Force Plague against Darth Dreadwar; ordinarily, this power cannot be used at such a distance, but as a once-off, I’ll roll regardless. Pravum rolls 5 + 18 + 5 against DC 50, and fails, the Force fleeing from Pravum as his focus brushes the void in the Force. Pravum’s usage of Midichlorian Manipulation rolls a 15 + 18 + 5 against DC 35, and succeeds; Effect is 13 + Modifier of 4 - Debuff of 5, and his HP is rejuvenated by 12.

Nathemus attempts Darkshear against Darth Andeddu, Darth Malleus, Tulak Hord and the environment, and rolls a natural 20, automatically succeeding. Damage is 19 + Modifier of 3 + Bonus of 4 - Debuff of 5, and Darth Andeddu’s HP is depleted to 24, Tulak Hord’s HP is depleted to 24, and Darth Malleus’ HP is depleted to 25. Andeddu activates Force Resistance in response, but is too distracted by Corpse-vision to retaliate, Darth Malleus activates Force Resistance and uses Force Jump (succeeding with a roll of 6 + Modifiers - 2 against DC 10) to leap to Nathemus’ location, while Tulak Hord activates Force Resistance and retaliates with Death Field, rolling 18 + 23 + 10 - 2 against Nathemus’ DC 40 and nearby Voidwalker’s DC 37, succeeding and inflicting 17 + 5 - 4 + 5 -4 Damage, depleting Nathemus’ HP to 21 and Voidwalker’s HP to 18.

Thana’s usage of Animate Golem rolls 7 + 15 + 5 against DC 20, and succeeds; Effect is 11 + Modifier of 1 - Debuff of 5, and only three golems form, but their mere presence can roll 4d6 in Fire Damage against nearby opponents.

Xarxes’ usage of Telekinesis rolls 18 + 18 + 5 against DC 10, and succeeds; Effect is 18 + 4, and the Shyracks are successfully restrained in midair.

Volacius deploys Battle Meditation, which will buff and debuff allies and enemies after this point; however, as Volacius is mobile and not truly meditating, its effects are weakened.

Noxia uses Telepathy and Force Speed. I will treat the former as an automatic success if the recipients wish, and the latter rolls a 9 + Modifiers against DC 10, succeeding and allowing for a sharp burst of speed.

Corde’s usage of Heartshadow rolls 6 + Modifiers against DC 10, and an Effect of 8 permits a slight nudging of fate.





IC: Rand Ko
Sentinel-class shuttle, Saijo system

Across the salmon skies of Saijo, past bristling corvettes and frigates, a lone shuttle of ruby red arced low in descent, the Sentinel-class bearing Lady Vesper slowing its approach towards the landing pad as Rand Ko leaned towards the left, clutching the steering yoke with careful precision. The transmissions had been sent as Vesper had bidden, bursts of radiation encoding encrypted data flashing invisibly into the blackness beyond the rose-pink atmosphere for hyperspace communications arrays to reroute to their impossibly distant recipients.

Now, it was time to find what manner of sanctuary could be found on this fortress world of the Nagai. After the horror of Coruscant, yet fresh in his mind, Knight Ko could only hope respite, if realised, was less than transient.

The landing pad he presently guided the shuttle towards was situated on the outskirts of a small town on the northern continent, at the foot of an impressive mountain range of yellowish sandstone. More militarised than it was industrialised, Saijo sported many such settlements, sprouting from dry riverbeds and sparsely vegetated valleys, like this one did, around a central garrison and adjoining hangar containing craft as large as Star Destroyers. As Rand brought the shuttle down for a landing, he thought he could see several chalk-skinned humanoids approaching the periphery of the pad from a nearby building before a cloud of water vapour, hissing from the shuttle as its landing struts touched tarmac, obscured the viewport in plumes of grey. When at last the cockpit gently rocked and the shuttle settled to its gear, Rand sat back in his seat, reaching forward and flicking a switch to power down the sublights, before reaching over to depress the controls for the boarding ramp.

“My lady, we have arrived,” Rand announced, in that unnecessary fashion that he had displayed their entire sojourn. “Saijo awaits.”

At the bottom of the lowering boarding ramp, three uniformed Nagai stood, two tattooed males on either side of an unmarked woman with dramatic, raven-black hair cascading from only one side of her otherwise shaven head. Their bone-white faces wore intense frowns of discontent… or diquiet.


TAG: @Darth Vesper




IC: No one

Empty space between Korriban and Bosthirda

For nigh a minute, only silence greeted the TIE Reaper, as it floated closer towards the behemothic Star Destroyers silhouetted against the nebulae. Then a male voice crackled over the cockpit’s comms, perhaps betraying some internal argument or discussion, sounding very much like the officer that had first addressed them.

“We have our orders from Imperatrix Hesper herself,” the voice said. “We will be turning to heading 33.4, and resuming our jump to Korriban upon clearing the interdiction field.” The voice grew more distant, suggesting its owner had leaned away from the microphone. “Thrusters to ma—” Then with another crackle, the transmission terminated, and the Star Dreadnaught closest to the Reaper, transponder code Auspex, began to ponderously turn away from the approaching fleet of gleaming galleons. As it did so, the dish of its communicator array rotated, and on distant Korriban, in a war room that was beginning to shake in sickening rhythm with the alarms blaring overhead, a second transmission was received. “Acknowledged, Lieutenant Valantin. We are attempting to disengage the unknowns and reenter hyperspace.”

An array of choices presented themselves before Sedicious and the Jen’nu. They could attempt a landing in the cavernous hangar bays of the three Hesperian vessels ahead, although sans an aggressive breach by firing upon the hangars’ shield generators, entry would have to be negotiated through further transmission—and Sedicious’ prowess in battle meditation evidently did not translate to assured domination of minds. They could imitate the Auspex’s example, and seek to clear the range of the gravity mines floating in the black behind them, although the Hesperian ships evidently had a different destination in mind than Dromund Kaas. They could, perhaps, brave the strange ships alone, or attempt to destroy the gravity mines with the Reaper’s own weapons.

Their mystical powers of stealth afforded them some safety, but what could not be doubted was that the antiquarian war galleys were moving, trailing cobalt flame as they began their ominous advance, perfect grid formation an enclosing net of chain-linked menace. Decisions… Decisions… And precious little time to make them.


TAGs: @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Darth Sedicious, @corinthia (for Sorin)

OOC:
Anhra rolls a 11 + Modifiers against DC 35, and succeeds in his usage of Art of the Small, an effect of 11 + Modifier of 2 allowing him to shrink his signature in the Force, although not hiding him completely.




IC: Captain Teracotus

Departing the bridge of the Aximand

“Commander, you have the bridge,” Teracotus barked to the officer hovering above the crew pit to his left, and at once turned to follow Omegon as the Sith juggernaut made his way for the hangar, stepping around the tail of the giant, silent fiend that had emerged onto the bridge. Ensigns rushed ahead, comm/links crackling as they conveyed Omegon’s orders to the technicians in the specified hangar, readying a Vassago-class shuttle for immediate launch as the Aximand approached the ominously shrouded atmosphere of Axum.

“I am curious to hear of our plan of extrication, as well,” Teracotus added to Rayge’s question. He had never shied away from questioning Omegon—never his authority, no, never that, but he did not grovel, nor waste time in obsequious requests for permission to accompany his superior when he knew his strategic insights better served Omegon’s interests up close. He speculated his hands-on approach, and boldness in frankly sharing appraisals of strategy and tactics, was why he had attained, and retained, his present rank.

“Getting down to the surface won’t be a problem,” he continued, making a brisk pace down the durasteel passageways. “But we’re entering an unknown situation here. We should make preparations for emergency evac ourselves, in case the shuttle is shot down or compromised.”

In the hangar ahead, black-plated Sith Stormtroopers jogged towards the shuttle’s lowered boarding ramp, as technicians and maintenance droids hastily disconnected fuel lines, waving and beeping orders as they began to back away from the gently humming craft. Evidently, a pilot was already in the cockpit; the engines were clearly active. Beyond the hangar’s translucent magcon field, a bank of grey clouds seemed to surge towards the approaching party. The Aximand was entering low atmosphere.


TAGs: @Kint Dranlor, @Dorrian Shadowsun, @Rayge, @Senec Tinople (see last GM update), @Oberleutnant Deleritas (see last GM update), @Tobbi Airskipper (see last GM update), @Darth Kratos (see last GM update)
 

Admiral Volshe

Legendary Member
NGE Empress

IC: Empress Kára Volshe
The Underdelve

The Empress did not leap back, but rather moved disjointedly to the side, behind her newly-crowned husband, as the slayers approached. Her eyes glanced down to the screen as she did, the group of children and her Federation entourage protected by both Knights - and the rest of the Sith.

One of the Knights charged forth with a well aimed ‘saber strike, another igniting their own brilliant silver blade before shouting to the others in the underdelve.

Protect her Majesty and her ward!

She braced herself as chaos erupted around her. She could try again, but there would be no different result. He had claimed he wished them to survive, to serve him. Certainly, that could have been a lie. But was it?

Her attention divided. “Come here,” she summoned of the children, again, still clutching one of the small children in her arms.

Her mind raced through a thousand possibilities, adrenaline fueling the rapidity of her thoughts. How would they survive if the gate only led to incineration and Nilrebmah, and the tunnels beyond led to only ancient crypts and certain doom?

She inhaled, quickly flicking through the hypergate controls and ending the portal. That would buy them time, for now. She knew that the gate was not simply a ploy - it was a high risk object to be placed in the path of fleeing enemies. The shadow slayers were only going to keep coming.

But the incineration, the ghouls, in her mind, they were not intended to kill them. Again, hissed her own voice as she rifled through her considerations, if he had intended to kill them…

The thought rang true. If he had, there would be more than three shadow slayers coming through in any moment. If they had been just to disable the shields, no more would be entering as they did now. And yet, they were not enough in number to kill them.

Perhaps her conclusion was incorrect, but she was growing more certain she had just made the wrong decision moments ago. The gate had utility for them, she was sure of it. The monstrosities coming forward were a ploy. If he created logical reason for the hypergate’s presence, if he gave the gate utility for the true Sith, then it would not seem to be suspicious.

And if he knew her, he would know she would refuse to go to Nilrebmah...

She changed tactics, this time attempting to restart the hypergate menu and, hopefully, input coordinates - or find some predetermined destination that was not instant annihilation or the malefic world of Nilrebmah.

It was not all she needed to do. The Sith were still clashing with the forces that wrought havoc...and her sons faced them above. Exhaustion was beginning to pursue her, its claw like grasp closing around her, the weariness pricking at her eyes. Her muscles were beginning to ache, though she did not show it to any of those nearest her. Her most recent attempt at slowing their approach had failed.

She would need to try something more. Her options were limited to familiarity, given the situation. Breath swirled from her in the dank air, her chest tight. Frustration threatened to boil over, to overtake the anxiety and fear that accosted her in waves. If he intended them to survive, he was doing a terrible job of it. They were Sith, not astrophysicists. Logic and unified action were not their strong suit. Acting with instinct was, especially in a high pressure, high stakes situation such as the one the True Sith had crafted. She was forced to hone those instincts, to rein them into something that would help their survival, not hinder it. It seemed to be working, now, after the chaos of the minutes before. But for how long, she did not know.

She repeated her order to those who were yet flooding in.

Maintain your spells, your creatures. If you have not already, act. You must create a perimeter of Force barriers, at once,” she said, command that rose above the din. “Otherwise, protect those who are doing so. Now!

She shut her eyes in that same moment, trying to think of some possible way she could distract the ancient army above, to buy them some time from the procession of death and chaos above. There was only one thing she could think of that would buy them time, one thing that would unsettle the cold and clinical mind of Dreadwar and garner the attention of Venomis. Beneath her breath, she whispered, wasting no time in utilizing the life force of the one she had reached to.

Lord Catalyst, the rest of you. What lies in ahead in those tunnels?” She called to those investigating what she had assumed to be a diversion. There was the chance they saw nothing but crypts, and more crypts, but if the hypergate failed despite her intervention, perhaps they could flee into those crypts and seal them - as unlikely as their survival would be, it was at least a minuscule chance.

~~​

Simultaneously, she attempted to weave strands of the Force into ethereal embodiment of herself, and then a second self, up above. She did not care if they knew it was an illusion, for she did not intend on fighting either of them. She only wished that they would know it was her creation.

The first illusion would find itself spun beside the wraith above, sidling up to him, a purr in her voice and saccharine smile upon her lips. “Perhaps you should think twice about your approach, for I do indeed have hostages, and your children may well die...”

The second would be directed towards Venomis, but with a much more appealing offer. “Kill me if you will, my Lord, but I do believe I have something even more delectable for you than our lives ever could be.”

Her eyes flicked to her former husband, the same smile having lodged itself upon her phantasmal lips.


~~

POWERS USED:
Sith Illusions - 5
(Intent & successful roll included in italics - subject to final roll)

~~

TAG:​
@corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Dadwar , @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia

 

Catalyst

The Cunning Linguist
Moderator
Underworld Ruler
Immortalis
IC Lord Catalyst
Underdelve, Sith Temple, Korriban
Danger echoed in the Force. The walls of the cavern shook around them, as the battle above reached a fever pitch. Many had gone back to the surface to continue the fight, either in a misguided attempt to win or simply to buy time for the rest below to escape. Catalyst was hoping for either at this point. To his credit, he was doing his part to ensure the survival of others, and his Force Barrier seemed to be facilitating the retreat of those who were unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire. He could feel the strain of maintaining the barrier becoming ever more stressful, a sure sign that it was doing its part. He briefly contemplated shifting his focus and using the barrier to wall away the incoming threats that were no doubt bearing down on the fleeing Sith, but could not be sure if there were still escapees in the dungeon level. To hell with them, he thought. The weakest links break the chain. His resolve stiffened, and he attempted to rotate his metaphysical wall, bending it to seal off the dungeons from the passage, and hopefully dump the remnants of collapsing ceiling into the path.

Not that it mattered, really.

Emerging from the dark portal behind him, more ghoulish slayers had set their sights on the Sith that were sandwiched in the depths. Why in the blazes is that portal still open? The distraction nearly broke his concentration, and were it not for the rich environment of targets for the dead soldiers to focus on, he would have brought his lightsaber to bear. Maintaining the bulwark was his primary mission right now, and he was confident, even if decreasingly so, that there were others watching his back.

The shouted orders of Volshe did offer some relief to his doubts, and it seemed like she was still intent on doing something with the portal. He had done what he was good at: made himself useful enough to be worth defending. “Lord Catalyst, the rest of you. What lies in ahead in those tunnels?” Her
question was valid, but he didn't necessarily have time to delve into the vision he was granted, nor did he know what Xarxes and company were encountering further in its depths. So, of course, his only natural response in this moment of hopelessness was laden with sarcasm.

"Sunshine, beaches, and pretty women with hats of fruit," he spat in response to her query. "Whatever it is, it has to be better than what's up there!" He was getting tired of the guessing game she seemed to be playing in the interest of maintaining the illusion of control. Stretching his mind, he attempted to make contact with Xarxes, if only to bring himself the plausible deniability of having tried. Tell me something good Xarxes, his mental whisper projected. What 's waiting for us down there?

Powers Used:
Force Barrier (4)
Telepathy (2)


TAG: @Admiral Volshe, @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Dreadwar, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia
 
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Darth Kain

Administrator
Staff member
Administrator
Moderator
Dark Council
Immortalis
One Month Earlier…

IC: Darth Kain, the Beloved Prince of the Stars
Phoenix Manor, Vitae


The last of the evening rains had fallen. A sky of ashen gray loomed, the last of its tears spent on quenching the thirst of the sprawling jungle before him. The droplets that remained on the railing of his balcony evaporated with a thought, allowing him to rest his arms as he looked upon the first of his kingdom. It was a sea of green, of life unyielding.

He had walked upon that forest floor before, admiring the flora and fauna that his mother once controlled. There was a rodent, a small little thing of pink flesh and whiskers, that had approached him. It was curious. He had been the first sentient to walk in these jungles for decades, for the Jedi who once deemed the planet necessary to study had abandoned their stations in wake of the Massacre at Ossus. The last Jedi to set foot on his world had been turned to ash.

But the rodent - a species Kain deemed as wermrats - did not suffer the same fate as that Jedi. It was an animal, a harmless one at that. This was not the Kain that had hidden on Kashyyyk, feasting upon the wildlife of the Shadowlands like some base beast. He was the prodigal son of his Celestial family, returned to claim what was his. He had simply kept on walking, ignoring the creature. At least, until he heard it squeal in terror.

He watched as a barbed, twisted vine ensnared the poor wermrat, digging into its soft flesh and drawing blood. The vine tightened, then dragged the screeching rodent through the brush, into the awaiting maw of a carnivorous plant just past the trees. He recalled stepping on that vine only moments ago, and the rapacious predator had not even attempted to hurt the heir to its home. He smiled. His mother may have been weakened by those Sith under the orders of that insipid Darth, but her love remained even now.

The Beloved Prince went on to travel across the land, eventually making the journey to the volcano his mother once called home. It was there he had found it, surrounded in an ominous, amber fog. The Font of Power, that which his mother had drunk from millennia ago. It had always been a temptation. To wonder how its sweet waters would taste, how its power would affect one such as he. But it was not time. Not yet. Abeloth would need time to regain her power, and when she had, he and his family would partake. Eva would become the eternal Princess of Light, a force of justice and forgiveness that all in the galaxy would praise. Abaddon would become the irresistible Bride of Night, protecting the forbidden mysteries of the Force. Kain would, when the time was right, become the King, and Abeloth the Queen Mother, of all the stars. His fiery gaze would warm his subjects, and burn away his enemies. The New Gods would reign for all eternity. Such was the plan.

On his journey, he came across a dank grotto, one of miasma and foreboding. He glanced upon the revered Pool of Knowledge, and saw an obsidian throne in its waters. Sitting upon it was a being of utter darkness, swathed in a tattered cloak that Kain was too familiar with. The urge to bathe in those waters, to change who sat upon that throne, tempted him even more than the Font had before. But it was not time. It was not time.

And now he admired his world from the comfort of his manor, built again from the ashes. A glance skyward revealed a twinkle in the darkening sky, now that the rain clouds had moved on. He recognized it as one of the many stations that had begun construction in orbit, part of his plan to ensure no fleet could ever attack his home again.

The hairs on his arms stood on end, and he directed his gaze down to the railing. Only a few inches away was a spider, slowly crawling towards him. It was as black as night and bare of any fur, its tiny fangs dripping with a venom that stained the durasteel it walked upon. Kain snorted, and the spider was whisked away, flying into the jungle below. Pest control would have to be next on his to-do list.

237707290_1839096262929319_6626662870963140873_n.jpgMoments later he felt a hand brush against his. He was startled, at first.

“Well done,” he said with a smirk. Her hand was as smooth as silk, and he gave it a solid squeeze. He rubbed the ring on her finger, still proud that he had found one worthy of someone like her. “You got me that time.”

She laughed. “The little jump you did was cute.”

“I did not jump.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”


He chuckled, meeting her eyes. Part of him missed when her eyes were brown, when her hair was raven-black. But everything else about her, everything that mattered, had been the same. The way she scrunched up her nose, the breath she took before a giggle, the way she chewed her ice cream for some odd reason. There may have been a sliver of that demon still resting within her, but it was her. And there was no one more beautiful in the galaxy.

“Eva is in bed,” said Abaddon. “Tifa is taking care of the dishes.”

“So, no responsibility for the rest of the night?” he asked. “Music to my ears.”

“Oh no, you have one responsibility to take care of.” She flashed a smile he recognized all too well, and he matched it in kind. But where was the fun in moving so quickly?PicsArt_12-09-12.17.08.jpg

He feigned confusion. “Message from the Order?”

She shook her head, playfully scrunching her nose. “Nope.”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh! I forgot to--”

She pulled him against her, and they kissed. Their lips clung together softly, then with more urgency. She tasted like cinnamon and cherries and everything he’d ever craved. His hand cupped her cheek, and together their nerve endings were set ablaze with passion and desire.

* * *

He laid there, his chest bare, as he felt her breathe softly against his neck. She was asleep, and he was looking to join her. It had been a good day. He was ready for it to end.

But fate would not have it that way.

Kain heard the cry of his daughter not with his ears, but he did feel it. She was on the other side of the manor, in her own bedroom, but she… she was terrified.

He did not waste time in putting on a shirt, or in even running. The fabric of space instantaneously deposited the Beloved Prince in her room, and he found the source of her terror.

It was the spider, larger than it had been before, crawling towards her, its fangs dripping that same caustic venom. She was out of the bed now, but it was not. It was as if it was feeding off of her fear, dragging itself toward her rather than leaping like it surely could. Kain took hold of the creature with a thought, suspending it in the air before him.

Its eyes… he did not look at them before. But now he realized why it had frightened Eva so fiercely. It had too many eyes, all spinning and glistening with primal hunger. The eyes stared beyond Kain’s own, past the thin veneer of a man that kept his daughter free of madness. There was an intelligence in those eyes, as if, had the spider the ability to do so, it would be speaking to him in profound riddles that foretell death and rot.

The spider flared into a fireball the size of a fist, and then turned to ash.

Eva embraced him, hugging around his waist. “Thank you,” she breathed.

“Are you alright?”

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “It gave me nightmares before I even saw it.”

Present Day…

IC: Darth Kain, the Beloved King of the Stars
Under the Cosmic Magnifying Glass, Eastern Side of the Temple, Korriban


There were too many eyes. And they all stared at him.

He felt as if he were swimming in bubbling oil, watched by a sea of onlookers that cruelly laughed as he struggled to paddle to freedom. Kain knew this feeling, knew who it was that watched him. It was the vile creature that had arrived alongside the treacherous Dreadwar, the one he had seen in the memories of Volshe.

Volshe.

She was supposed to have concealed him. Had she failed to? Was she truly so weak that she could not complete what should have been a simple spell? No, no there were many things that she had been called, but weak had not been one of them. One such as her wouldn’t have failed a spell that elementary.

She had to have chosen to not conceal him at all.

His heart was torn asunder as the second knife of the day was stabbed into his back. She had heard his speech, she had seen how loyal some of the Order had become. He was going to talk with her after the crisis had subsided, when they were safe for even just a few hours. He would have explained Abeloth’s plan, how he was meant to carry on without her. But she had not given him a chance. She wanted her competition, even at the height of chaos, destroyed.

Molten tears streamed down his cheeks. His reasons for holding back, however logical or reasonable they may have been, had been drowned in a sea of blood. And if the oily gaze of Darth Venomis had found him, then it was time to burn the oil away.

The Dark Messiah’s eyelids shut tight. All concerns with the survivors in the temple, all worries of the twisted Venomis attacking, any and all distractions were burned away from his mind in an instant. He felt peace. Quiet. There was no threatening gaze of a God of Rot, there was no roar of an approaching army, there was no crumbling tower, depositing debris and dust.

Stillness.

When he opened his eyelids, the green irises of his eyes were gone, lost to a blackened void with only stars left in their wake. His widening lips parted as he began to speak in a hushed tone, so quiet not even the most perceptive of evils could hear him. The muscles in his shoulders and neck began to tense, the skin turning a sickening gray as veins of fire bulged to the surface. His hands, the fingers replaced with writhing tentacles of eldritch horror, rose to the sky in divine reverence of the incoming storm. He began to shine, bright with fiery luminescence. The sands swirled around him, the very air churning in horrified anticipation. The swirls of air began to feel more like harsh wind, and it shrieked as Eva did in fear of that terrible arachnid.

The Beloved King’s cloak billowed around him. He could feel the Force flowing around him, within him, coursing through his body like the fiery blood in his veins, yet he had full control and command over it. His feet left the desert as he began to levitate, his entire body tightening with the strain from the concentration required to harness and conjure such power. The whispers on his lips turned to shouts and before long, he was screaming with transcendental power - his power - taking full command of the forthcoming Fire Storm.


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TAGS: @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Dreadwar, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia

Power(s) Used:
Wormhole: Force Fire Storm - Conjuring (10)
 

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Darth Xxys

Active member
Moderator
Dark Council
Immortalis
(XXYS IC HYPERGATE)

The landing at the bottom of the stairs was choked with the panic strickened and wounded. The only light emanated from a few lightsabers and a control panel that the Empress and her gathering were engaged with. Children cried in the shadows as a small group of adults ushered them along the passage. Xxys looked to their tiny faces and saw the same fear in their eyes he felt skittering across his mind. Directly in front of the landing was the reason the progressions had stalled its advance into the further depths of the temple.

A hypergate.

The Empresses party had gathered around her and were conversing about the use of the hypergate. Her countenance was flustered as She shouted a few orders for other to check on a portal to the far right of the landing that seemed to be the large visage of a tortured face. The open mouth was an impenetrable black veil that Xxys could not see into from his vantage.

Xxys had traveled via one of these gates some years ago and had found the experience...disquieting. The traveler was subjected to the passage of time and distance in an instant, and most beings make the trip with no issues, but for one that has seen the void...the space between space, the split second it takes to travers the gate, is a nightmare.

And a nightmare was what was emergeing from the now activated portal. The wispy, shadowy, figure quickly coalesced as it exited the gate and took the form of a shrouded warrior. Two more of these wraiths began to coalesce and focused their attention on the next two persons standing close to the hypergate, still more began to manifest behind this second wave.

"Get them behind us!" his voice filled the small space.
Xxys had little use for children but he would not let these creatures devour them. On that hill he would die.

Xxys' saber howeld to life as he focused his mind then interposed his body between the emerging specters and the whimpering children at his back. Gathering the Force to himself Xxys focused on the three lead creatures in his sight while they were still in the throat of the gate. Xxys sped a series of shadow strikes at the trio of spectral warriors, focusing on their heads as a fisticuffs fighter would pick his strikes. Several guards and others plied their weapons to the task and quickly formed a barrier between the Empress and her party.

"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast!"

Powers used:
Shadowstrike 4


TAG: TAG: @Darth Dreadwar, @Catalyst, @corinthia, @Volacius, @Darth Xirr, @DarthFeros, @Darth Cruor, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Kain , @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @Metus, @Sith_Imperios @Jihadi Quartz, @skira, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Reatith Blodraald, @Keres Dymos, @Kielor, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Admiral Volshe, @Darth Nathemus, @Voidwalker, @Reiis Invadator, @Grievance Vexx, @dragonsith13, @Zareel Jhenan´doka , @G.Kn, @Darth Thana
 
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Jen'nu

Legendary Member
Moderator
Dark Council
Chapter XI: Abandonment
IC: Ānhrā Māhnîu.
Location: Approaching the Eternal Fleet, near Bosthirda.


15F1C696-989D-4CC0-847F-269D36A34D14.JPEGAs the transmission terminated and the Hesperian warships receded into a retreat, Ānhrā Māhnîu glared. His posture stiff as a statue, his eyes seethed with intensity one would normally expect from Deadly Sight. His hands, covered by clawed gauntlets concealing lethal ligature, curled into sickles as his furious umbrage spread into them.
Were these people blind as blocks or simply superbly stupid? Ignoring an unknown alien fleet approaching through a graveyard of their own former allies could certainly make a terrific indication of either, if not both. But even more so, they had rejected his message, ignored his attempt, renounced his grace.

A singing sweep from his fist of scythes smashed into the back of his seat. The echoing smite nearly overshadowed a string of nocuous curses pouring from his mouth, with a variety that would arouse envy in a myriad of linguists. His vampiric feral teeth skittered against each other in spiteful contempt.

These people, with all the value he afforded them, were rejecting him before his very eyes. If that was their wish, he found himself surprisingly happy to oblige them in this particular moment. With the anonymous enemy closing on the three warships, there was little chance the tiny Reaper would be located and pursued, Sith Illusions or no. Interdiction mines notwithstanding, their path of escape had seemingly been cleared. If the Hesperians would not be his knights, they would be his pawns. And pawns were frequently sacrificed, even for meagre benefits.




IC: Azhura Mazrakh.
His helplessness was leeching away at his normally devout concentration. The orders for Lwhekk, instructing his saintly teachers to initiate the defense protocols, had already been given. The High Priestess and the Warmaster were guaranteed to have the preparations finished in short order. Yet he himself had been unable to aid the Khattazz al’Yun’o and his secondary in their battles of divine power. He could not aid the Avatar of the Gods, the savior of the galaxy, in his hour of need. If so, there would be no purpose to his existence.
And thus he would have to accomplish his purpose. Whatever that purpose may be, that was for his luminous Overlord to decide. Even as his fingers shamefully started quivering from his stress, he prepared.


IMG_5709.jpgFinally the emissary’s voice warbled through the ship.

‘’114D.’’

The choir coming from the cockpit plunged needles through the guard’s skin. The intonation of his savior had shifted, rumbling with a rasping reverb unlike anything ever heard by Yuuzhan Vong ears. The Avatar of the Gods no longer spoke with only his own voice. The sound coming from his mouth was the same, but more voices had joined in his speech, concocting a choral symphony of synchronous echo.

It was the voice of a transcendental being.

‘’The enemy is distracted and the Hesperians have refused our support.’’
‘’We will clear the interdiction field and continue to Dromund Kaas.’’

The child of Yun-Yuuzhan could only tremble in reverence, as the unworldly voice mixed with the ringing noises of the ship’s controls. Swiftly adjusting the array to bring them past the alien fleet, the Eternal Supreme Overlord set the ship shooting forward. Yet even as the Reaper sped ahead, the Khattazz al’Yun’o threw his gaze back. As he had stared back at their draconic attacker, he now did the same to the three warships.

‘’Farewell Hesperians.’’
‘’May we meet again, in this life or your next.’’



Powers used:

Art of the Small - 10 (continued).

(TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @Darth Sedicious, @corinthia)
 
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Darth Cold

Well-known member
Moderator
Dark Council
The Lightbringer Returns


IC: Samael
Underdelve beneath the Sith Temple, Korriban
Combo with Lord Catalyst




Several Hours Earlier


He still couldn’t believe it. After three long years he was finally returning to Korriban. Maybe he could see if Shalyx'har'zan was still in his hidden cave. He really had missed his friend, but he had to do as commanded by his liege, Hadzuska. It wasn’t all bad, Hadzuska treated him fairly nicely, and thought of his comfort often. If only he treated others the same way. When he first joined Hadzuska at his unique church, he turned on someone he called a friend like it was nothing. “Let the few die so that many more can live.” That was his justification, he said they were bad people, but would he do the same thing to Samael? He wasn’t also a bad person, was he?


This is what he pondered, among other things. Once the shuttle landed on the sands, they departed. “You’re getting better. You were excited the whole trip, but only caught yourself on fire once this time.” Hadzuska said as he looked Samael up and down. “Your clothes are charred, and a size or two too small for you. While we are here, see about getting yourself something to replace it. Now get lost for a few hours while I find out what this invitation is all about. But don’t go too far, if I need you, I want you able to be there when I call.


Samael was a little upset, but he understood. Hadzuska tended to prefer to have all the answers before doing anything, or at least have a way to make sure he could survive. He didn’t trust many people, so Samael was proud of the fact that he trusted him as much as he did. “As you wish, my liege. If possible before we leave could we stop to see if my friend is still here? I know you guys would get along great.” He asked hopefully, but received no response as the blue robes of Hadzuska entered the temple and disappeared.


Deciding that meant maybe, Samael cheerfully followed him up the stairs into the temple, but quickly found that Hadzuska was already far gone. Hadzuska said to get new clothes, and so he did. Black pants, a loose black shirt, and a hooded black cloak to hide his horned head from others. Once changed, he entered an empty classroom and began to attempt to meditate, though found it difficult. He was at the academy. He might see his former Master Lord Xirr, though he doubted it, he hardly ever saw him. Maybe he would see the nicest man ever, Lord Catalyst. He hoped so, Lord Catalyst seemed like he could teach him a lot of wisdom when they last met. Or maybe he would see her again, the beautiful Lady Apollyon. Once more he doubted it, they all were highly important people, and he was nowhere near their stature.


A few hours go past. Emergency lights began to strobe red. “Shields deactivated. Shields deactivated. Shields deactivated.” Could be heard over the loudspeakers. Confused, and curious the deveronian exited the classroom and joined in the middle of a group of people retreating to the dungeons.


As he entered the dungeons he was shepherded quickly down into the underdelve where many began to become crowded in. He saw Hadzuska and approached him. “What do you require of me?” But he was ignored. He wasn’t summoned, of course he should leave him be for now. He saw the breathtakingly beautiful Lady Apollyon momentarily, and then witnessed Lord Catalyst. Approaching him quickly he inquired. “Lord Catalyst, it’s been a long time. What can I do for you?


The familiar voice caught Catalyst's attention, and he let out a small chuckle. "Glad to know someone knows how to be useful," he addressed Samael with a slight grin, straining under the weight of mental exertion. "Can I recommend doing something about the uglies coming out of yon hole in the wall?" He jerked his head backwards to indicate the shadow slayers emerging from the hyper gate. "Cut 'em down, light 'em up, or send them back to where they came from, I don't care, just don't let them touch me or anyone else."


Light them up. Samael knew how to do that. He called upon his first ever friend for help. The only thing more beautiful than Lady Apollyon, Fire. Little did he realize what he was doing as it came naturally to him, Samael began to focus on heating the air around his hand to summon a fireball to launch at the closest of the Shadow Slayers to Lord Catalyst. No one would hurt his friends if he had anything to say about it.


(Powers Used: Pyrokinesis 2)












IC: Hadzuska
Underdelve beneath the Sith Temple, Korriban


The ferocity of the Rakghouls had already reached the enemy but it wasn’t enough, they were still coming, he needed to match numbers with his own. He began to focus on that as he continued to have the current beasts wreck havoc amongst the approaching darkness, he tried to pull more from within the crowd of the beasts already trying to grow their numbers and slow, if not halt the enemy all together. He would not die here if he could help it.


As if from far away, though it was really close to him he could hear Samael had returned and was asking what he could do to help. Good, he’s ok. Though he refused to admit it, the kind hearted deveronian actually had grown on him. Before his kindness was meant to control him, but somewhere along the line he began to truly care about him. But now he had to ignore him, he hoped he would understand.


And apparently he did, because from even farther away he heard him question the man child on what to do. Damn it. I’ll have to do something about this soon, before I lose my guard. Putting that to the side he refocused his efforts on the illusions.



(Powers Used: Sith Illusions 4 continued)


TAGs: @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia @Darth Dreadwar
 


"became admired by fish for saving one of their young from drowning"
A Fishmalk, probably.​

IC: I-Ron-Butterfly-Traya and Apprentice Karin Welko.

They jumped from outside the portal like pairs of hyenas, ready to strike, ready to chew on the bones of the Sith that were licking their wounds minutes ago. Not a lot of them, only six, trying to harm and impair. They were automatons like a droid were, only more meatier. And with a horrible stink.


Yet they were the shocktroopers of the True Sith. The Nameless Threat for I-Ron. She didn't knew them, redundancy counting, the true name of the True Sith. They were just Sith, ancient, perhaps antediluvian. But who was not Antediluvian here? Gazing at the Empress and her starry eyed bloodline, the departed Lord Kain, I-Ron herself.


Even more antediluvian perhaps? What could be more ancient than the ancients? Was there a substrata rock of more ancient missing links if you dug deep enough?


Lets see: There was Clay, then Sand which I-Ron tasted before the banquet, then loam. A mixture of those, like Sandy Clay, and finally the elusive Sandy Loam. Where is she and why can't I-Ron reach her?


The information gathered from the surrounding soil texture got her a little bit more information about Sandy. She was ancient, perhaps even more than the temple that was built on top of it. Perhaps 10.000 years were needed, under the correct circumstances, to create a fossil. Karin got close to one of those mummies, at the behest of I-Ron -Using sign language- And stole a bony hand to test further, to pry open the secrets of Sandy. Perhaps even to revive with a spell the owner of the hand, to see who was he or she.


I-Ron stood there, thinking, lost inside her own mind, trying to understand the riddle laid in front of her, while the skeletons started to break havok, ignoring her.


Ah, perhaps because they were designed to eat their victims, and I-Ron was non edible.


Karin got close to Lord Xarxes, holding at bay the flying monsters, gazing her sword not frozen. She started the conjure again, in case it would be needed. She was frustrated because she was not able to conjure a simple spike of ice. Like something pressing her brain and sending all her patterns of thought into oblivion and then stasis. Like something zapping her will to fight longer.


Perhaps that was the very thing that made I-Ron dissociate like that.


“Ah…My Lord?” Karin said faintly to Lord Xarxes, trying to remain calm when speaking with a pilar of order and virtue. “My Master told me to show you this sign in case we were in grave danger” And then, remembering her lesson in secret battle language, and coded and encrypted communication as an apprentice of a consummate Inquisitor, Karin relaid a secret message to Lord Xarxes, even if she was unaware of what it meant.


She was instructed to give the message when a reckoning like that occurred. However perhaps that was not the moment when the seal had to be opened. Karin had no way of knowing.


Meanwhile I-Ron stopped pondering about Sandy Loam, the rhetorical figure that was understood as the conundrum of the history, origin and emergence of the True Sith.


She raised both her hands, understanding that the hypergate was as ancient as Sandy.


“Apprentice, who made this technology?” I-Ron yelled for random trivia at her apprentice.


“The Gree, Master, they did it.” She responded, trying to lower her voice so not to bother the Lord of Order.


“Carbon date them.” I-Ron ordered, a command of utmost importance.


“Uh…” She started to gather the erudition on her brain, then send it to her throat. “...Pre republic?” I-Ron nodded to her. “Perhaps 100.000 years ago.”


“Kain” She said instead of the exclamation of surprise -God-. “Pre Republic era technology is…hard to reach with Mechu Deru.” I-Ron claimed, hesitant of what she was going to do. But Kain vanished after she asked for permission to do it, so that meant to yes, do tamper with the hypergate.


“Hypergate, i'm talking to you, buddy. Tell me the secrets of Sandy Loam.” I-Ron yelled as she started to gather the dark side near her, trying to empower herself in order to conjure the dark reality she envisioned for the gate, and then cast it upon reality. She gathered as much as she could and then sent her invisible tendrils of Mechu Deru towards the Hypergate. First she wanted to know the location of other hypergates, that was her intent. Then, try to see if she could command it, give it orders.


Powers Used:


Mechu Deru lvl 3


Feed on the Dark Side lvl 3 (To empower herself in order to not tire)

Criokinesis lvl 2 (For Karin, again)

TAGs: @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia @Darth Dreadwar @Hadzuska_The Jester
 
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Darth Nathemus

King of Firefist
Staff member
Administrator
Jedi King
Dark Council
Jedi Council
Immortalis
Screenshot_20211211-142851_Messenger.jpg

IC: Sedriss Nathemus, Darth Voidwalker, Darth Feros/Darth Krayt, and Darth Arach
Location: Dungeon Hallway, Sith Temple, Korriban


“Finally!” Arach breathed, relieved as she saw Hesper turn and head down to the tunnels. She took a moment to decide her next move.

She could follow Hesper down to the tunnels, or she could help the two men who had passed. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure how much help she could be, but she was willing to do what she could. Decided, Arach followed the two men back toward the entrance, avoiding the debris that started raining down.

Before she reached them, Arach felt another presence. This one was foul and evil. Arach hung back a bit, not wanting to reveal herself just yet.

Feros had seen them run by. It hadn't really registered until now, as he watched Arach sprint past, heading back towards the Dungeons, that it was Nathemus he'd seen earlier. And he could feel someone else familiar, almost jovial inside the tumult running through the Force. Voidwalker!

Feros didn't stop to think for a second. He'd been through far too much with those two to run, tail tucked, to the tunnels while they stood and died nearly alone. Yes, the dungeons were caving in, but he wasn't going to leave two of his allies behind to die. They'd need the two of them soon.

"You know they're probably going to die. And us with them, if you do this." Krayt said to him, inside his mind.

"I'd rather die standing than live running." He replied.

It was utter carnage the sights that greeted the Sedriss. Words or thoughts could not comprehend what he had just witnessed in that moment. The foul presence of decay kept creeping forth, ever drawing nearer to the Dark Lord and his brother in arms. This is it. I was made for this. Almost surprisingly, the Darkshear had worked to perfection. The doorway had bouldered the entrance blocking any more invaders from entering the Temple, and though it crippled the oncoming Ancient Lords, it also barricaded them and their Masters in the small area in which the New Sith Order’s defenders made their last stand.

While the Dead-King had been knocked aback by the Sedriss’ entropic waves, the other two continued their charge forth. Nathemus was brought to his knees by a power he knew all too well, for he’d used it himself numerous times. It was the advanced Drain, the Death Field. Bulbous sores began to streak across his body, and the pain was incredible. But he'd been there before. A Lord of Pain craved hurt like this.

Kain was deified. The Order would tell tales of Him. Few would know the truth. He was mortal-like once, as were we all. However, His contempt for the Sith drove him to create me, and my brethren.

I am Voidwalker, first-born of His lieutenants. I stood with Kain and my brethren at the destruction of the empire. I would have served Him a millennium. Over time, we'd become less human and more ...divine. Kain would enter the state of change and emerge with a new gift. Some years after the master, our evolution would follow. Until I had the honor of surpassing our former Lord. For my transgression, I earned a new kind of reward... agony.

There was only one possible outcome - my eternal damnation. I, Voidwalker along with my brother Nathemus, was to suffer the fate of traitors and weaklings - to burn forever in the bowels of the Field of death.

Falling, burning with the intensity of white-hot fire, I plunged into the depths of the abyss. Unspeakable pain... relentless agony... ... time ceased to exist...... only this torture... and a deepening hatred of the hypocrisy that damned me to this hell.

An eternity seemed to pass, and my torment receded, bringing me back from the precipice of madness. The descent had destroyed me... and yet I lived.

"Voidwalker... You are worthy."


Instinctively, Nathemus raised a shield of Resistance through the Dark Side. His prowess with defense was among the best the New Sith Order had to offer, and he intended to mitigate some of the effects of the Drain.

The ancient dark armor was drawing nearer. He could still only assume that it was the most ancient inhabitant of the armor, the Sith King Adas. His left hand quickly reached for the great Axe he'd attached to his back moments earlier while his right swirled with his next preparation of power.

The dungeons were collapsing around them, no doubt a result of the gargantuan being outside. Dust and debris was everywhere, and it crashed against the Sedriss' ashen skin. Voidwalker was next to him. Nathemus could feel the entropic power building within him. The brothers were very similar in their chosen Force disciplines, though not the same. "Voidwalker, my brother, this occasion demands I offer you a drink. But unfortunately I have none."

"Voidwalker..."
"Voidwalker..."

The two voices both called out to him simultaneously, seeming to merge as one coherent voice both within his head and outside. It was the words of Nathemus that he clung to, to help himself focus on more than the agonizing pain that his body had endured.

His heart was beating rapidly as if he was experiencing a heart attack. Though from the attack that they had just survived or from the sheer anger that he now felt building inside of him. Yet as long as his heart was pounding it was a sign that he still lived. Not only did he live, it meant that his blood would circulate through his body faster. The healing properties of his blood, blessed by the biomechanical hand he possessed would hopefully start working immediately. It wouldn't be enough to completely heal him, but hopefully it would help him start regaining his strength.

He was angry, rage filled that he and Nathemus had been caught off guard so easily. Angry that he didn't have the chance to attack. Angry that he felt so weak. Angry that Dreadwar had betrayed them all. Anger quickly evolved and ruptured into the realm of hatred. Hatred for the pain he felt and all he wanted was for their would be attacker to feel that same pain. He would inflict pain at this attacker that dared to attempt to bring harm to the New Sith Order. He willed it and he'd be damned if the Force didn't obey his command. He was more than any Sith, he was the War Priest, the Dread Heir!

No matter how much hatred he now held for Dreadwar, the former Emperor was still a part of him. And for that his hatred only grew, knowing that he now hated a part of himself more than ever before. He never wanted to be Emperor, but now he had a reason to want it. Even if the temple completely collapsed, as long as one wall stood, he would sit atop it and claim it as his throne. A throne that would rule with one purpose to kill Dreadwar, the deceiver and destroyer.

During the blindsided attack he'd fallen to a knee, but now more than ever he was determined to destroy all that he could, but if this was to be their last stand, then he would share this final moment with his brother. "Unfortunately we don't have any, because you drank it all, brother."

Arach heard their voices travel faintly down to where she was standing. Well, at least she got the name of one of the men. She cautiously crept closer, her eyes fixed on the third man. This was the source of the evil that she had felt. She sensed he was injured.

As she got closer, Arach raised her hand towards the threat and focused her growing anger. Her one desire: Inflict as much pain and suffering as he and his allies have dealt. She wanted him to feel it a thousand- fold.

Screenshot_20211211-142926_Messenger.jpg

Feros turned and ran after Arach, stopping alongside her. He could feel the Dark Side rolling off of her in cascading waves of pure, unadulterated hate. It was hot and sweet to him, like the warm spray of blood from a rent enemy as you felt him die.

The creature, if it could even be called that anymore, approaching them was emanating its own form of Dark Side power, cold and calculated. The macabre, grotesque abomination, striding forth in pure mockery of sane existence itself. Through the dust and debris of the rapidly-collapsing dungeon hallway, it cast an ominous scene.

"Nathemus! Voidwalker! Make some room, we're coming in!" Feros yelled as he threw up a barrier of force energy and ran forward, alongside the two others. A strange feeling washed over him, standing shoulder to shoulder with the two men he'd seen so much with. For an instant, a memory carried him away.

Banquet Hall, Sith Temple, Korriban, 155

The powers that be had put this feast on, and it was truly a sight to behold. Nothing had been spared. The tables were covered with meats and dishes of all the highest worlds in the Galaxy, and the proverbial cup runneth over with wine. Actually, in Feros' case, it ran over literally. Voidwalker had already had a bit more than his fair share of said wine, and combined with his usual jovial self, he was always able to cut through Feros' normally serious and dour exterior.

Coatlec was across the table, having his share as well. The three of them laughing and enjoying themselves. They all knew well it may be some time before they were all back around a table enjoying food and drink again. Feros, being the fatalistic one, broke the mood.

"You know, it could be some time before all of us are back here again. I set off on the Hand tomorrow for Coruscant. Gods only know how long that campaign will drag on." He said softly. "I'm still in awe that I've been chosen for the mission, or that I've managed to stumble my way into the rank of Master."

He set his cup down as a vaguely familiar woman walked by a couple tables over, looking their way. He knew her to be Darth Arach. He nodded to her, with a lopsided, warm-headed grin, and went back to the conversation.

"What of you two? I want to know where to look you up when I return."

Coatlec grinned as he took another drink from his glass. The three of them had already had so much today, but what was a couple more?

"Congratulations on your promotion to Master, Feros. I'll be heading back to Nur to focus more on my Sorcery. I've been growing very fond of a power that projects entropic waves. Raspir's Gatekeeper has some more training in store for me. Be careful out there, you've got a drink on me when you get back. What about you, Voidwalker, where are you off to?"

Voidwalker sat his cup down, a grim feeling sat in the bottom of his stomach. Not from his drink but from his actions during his last mission. This was supposed to be a feast for all of the Order to enjoy, and why shouldn't he enjoy it? He'd left Onderon some time ago and he made it, he made it to Korriban. But that victory had come with loss as well.

"...Why do you want to go to Korriban? I can tell you've got the Force about you, but why not just... keep on living? Use your gifts to have a good career, lead an amazing life like I have, rather than going to bloody Sith school?"

The words of Garn Tarcrulus ringing in his head. Perhaps Garn had been right, why waste my time here? No. Garn was foolish, and weak. That's why he got killed so easily by that Jedi. I'm here for my own reasons, and that's all that matters. He decided it better to not dwell on the words of dead fools. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get what he wanted. But that was tomorrow, tonight was a feast.

"Well tomorrow I'm heading out into the Galaxy to receive more training. Maybe Dromund Kaas, or another planet strong in the Dark Side. I'm nowhere near as accomplished as either of you, Masters. I'm merely an apprentice, but by time you get back from Coruscant I'll have proven myself and gained strength. Who knows, perhaps I'll even be a Darth myself or even a Lord by then. But that's tomorrow, and we're here now. So let us feast!"


Dungeon Hallway, Sith Temple, Korriban, 157 - Present Day - Armageddon

Nathemus chuckled. He was slightly taken aback by the Sith Lady who rolled up to the oncoming Sith King, but he hoped her own powers would assist the Sedriss and the War Priest. "Aye, we did, didn't we?"

"Yes we did. Nothing left to do now but the other thing."

His eyes now glowed an icy blue, and he cast his great powers of ice towards the King and his entourage, hoping to freeze Malleus, Hord, and the fallen behind Andeddu to absolute zero.

Screenshot_20211211-144000_Gallery.jpg

"Brother, if this be the end, let us not meet it as unworthy Sith, but as our father's sons. If this is our last day, will you wait for me in Chaos?"

"Brother....this day, I will Race you there." Voidwalker struggled to get to his feet, the armored hulk just before them, the entire temple shaking, debris falling around them. The scene was apocalyptic, there was a strong chance that they would all die here and now. It seemed hopeless, but there deep from within him the feeling that had gnawed at him previously was there again, craving and begging to be released. This primal hunger that when released only meant uncontrollable chaos. It left him a monster with no sense of self.

"Voidwalker... You are worthy." A haunting and twisted voice called out to him again. There was no mistaking it, it was coming from within his own mind. "Accept your demons and rain down chaos! Do not be a fool and get yourself killed."

Not anymore! If I'm going to die, I'm going to die fully in control of who I am! This is my power, and destiny is what I decide it shall be.

A young woman had come to their aid. He didn't know her name, but he recalled seeing her at the battlements when he retrieved Kain. Who was she? Even Krayt had shown up. The hell is he doing here? Is he finally ready to die for good and stay dead? No matter, he'll die soon enough. but....this monster before us will be the first to fall.

Voidwalker stood now completely all the way up, with a rejuvenated sense of purpose. He did not falter or stumble, he stood with pride and hatred. He had only one goal before he met his untimely demise, destroying everything he could, starting with what was in front of him.

Voidwalker stepped forward past the Sedriss, his eyes locked on the one that sought their destruction. Voidwalker stared into the void of the armored Titan. He felt the rush of the dark side raging within him like a solar storm. He could feel it building, raising higher and higher as if there were no limit to the darkness within himself. "Nathemus," Voidwalker shouted, his tone different from the more familiar tone he'd had with his brother, now it carried the weight of unquestionable authority. "I said I'd race you, so consider this a head start. Take Krayt and the girl and get the hell out of here now. Go!"

Feros pulled the Dark Side into himself, feeding off all the Dark Energy around him as he did. His hands shot out with his sabers, and he imagined the result of what he wanted. He wanted to see its insides. He wanted to repaint the Temple with the viscera filling its malformed, rotting, emaciated frame. He wanted to rend it from the very face of existence. As he saw it in his mind, a scream crawled its way up from his throat, more animal than man.

Screenshot_20211211-144600_Gallery.jpg

The shout coming from right next to her, startled Arach. She almost dropped into a defensive stance before his words caught up to her. He knows them, she realized. She allowed herself a very brief moment to close her eyes in relief.

When she opened them, Arach ran after the newcomer she remembered was named Krayt and felt for the being in front of Nathemus and Voidwalker in the Force. As she got closer, she released her power and started striking him from the shadows in a flurry of attacks, also releasing a fraction of her pent up fury, her own growl mingling with the animalistic scream of the man beside her.


What the hell are they still doing here? "I said to go!" Voidwalker exclaimed with the same authority as a General would demonstrate when ordering his troops across a battlefield in a storm of blaster fire. But Troopers knew the price for disobeying a direct command, and good soldiers follow orders. Although the Sith we're anything but soldiers. However, it was clear that he meant what he said, this would be a headstart to chaos. Nathemus might have beaten him to the rank of Lord and to the battle first, but this race was his alone to win.

"Don't be arrogant, Voidwalker." Feros said, raising an eyebrow. "Save that for Catalyst."

"You say I'm arrogant. I say, damn right. That's pride. Pride in the Sith I am!"

"Well he's going to die, but he does have guts." Krayt said.

"Not the right time."

With not another word to offer his companions, Voidwalker took one last final step towards his adversary. The cold creeping feeling of death reaching for him, tickling the back of his neck. Yet he stood tall and proud. The Dark Side radiating from him as if he were a beacon in the dark. This was no longer the rogue Sith that had entered through the banquet hall archway earlier in the day.

This was a being of nobility. Not the sort of nobility that came from royal blood, and certainly not of celestial nobility. That honor belonged to Kain. Voidwalker stood as the sort of nobility one rises to when the call of need arises. He truly was The Prince of Destruction.

He eyed the villainous attacker, as the temple shook. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling, the walls quivering in fear from the dastardly powers that had been set free on Korriban when Dreadwar and his army touched the planet's surface. The cries of battle and death echoed throughout the temple of the Sith. Death was upon him, reaching to finally sever his connection to the living plane and yet all he could do was smirk.

"You should find a crevice in which to cower, only scuttling from the shadows to devour a victim already ensnared in your cowardly trap. But you’ve made the mistake of leaving me unbound, and it is you who must succumb to my will."

Suddenly unleashing all of his power, rage, hatred, and fury as he released the power of the Dark Side. He focused all his power on attempting the Darkshear, aiming its destructive might at the ancient Dark Lord. Projecting invisible waves of his own, just as Nathemus had. Yet his waves of entropy were aimed directly on the armored giant. Fueled further by his talisman of concentration. He willed, no he demanded for his victim to age and fall before him.

Screenshot_20211211-145125_Gallery.jpg

Nathemus now attempted to run towards the crumbling tunnel stairwell, hoping to make it there before its collapse, and motioned for Voidwalker, Arach, and Krayt to go and follow him. He turned back for a second to cast a telekinetic pull toward Voidwalker, hoping to hoist him back to the stairs and out of harm's way of the axe-wielding Sith behemoth.

As Nathemus ran, Feros was close at his heels, hearing Voidwalker after unloading his attack. This had been his intent all along. He meant to get the two of them out before the dungeons collapsed, which they were on the verge of now. Chunks of masonry were pelting all of them, even as they ran. He put on a burst of speed out of reflex, and as he neared the stairway, he dove backwards, reaching out with the Force and wrapping Voidwalker in an invisible hand of energy, yanking him towards the stairway with everything Feros had.

"Jump, Voidwalker! Jump!" Feros yelled.

Arach spun on her heel and ran after Nathemus and Krayt. When she caught up to them, she added her telekinesis to help them pull Voidwalker back safely.

Screenshot_20211211-142905_Messenger.jpg

With all of his concentration focused on his attack aimed at the ancient Lord, Voidwalker barely heard the words calling out to him. It was clear that they were not going to leave without him. Trusting in his mismatched band of allies, Voidwalker jumped back as hard as he could. Aimed back down the hallway towards the doorway leading to the underdelve, still releasing his potentially devastating attack. His fate now rested in their hands….

Powers & Equipment Used:

Nathemus: Force Resistance 5, Cryokinesis 5, Telekinesis 2


Voidwalker: Inflict Pain 4, Darkshear 4, Talisman of Concentration, Bota (Via biomechanical hand that constantly pumps it into his bloodstream)

Feros: Feed on Dark Side 3, Force Rend 4, Tutaminis 4, Telekinesis 3

Arach: Inflict Pain 3, Shadowstrike 4, Telekinesis 3

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar, @corinthia, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios
 

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Undying Master Xiannarr

Well-known member
IC: Darth Xiannar
Tunnel in the mouth of Murr


Xiannar watched gleefully as Lord Xarxes stepped forward. He felt the surge in the force as Xarxes gripped the Shyraks and held them in place.
‘Perfect, just what I needed’ Xiannar thought to himself as excitement began to course through him. Placing his left hand on his chin the Dread Master tilted first left then right, cracking the kinks out of his neck. Summoning his saber with a touch of the force the cold metal flung itself neatly into his palm and practically hummed with excitement itself. He filled himself with the power of the Darkside surrounding them, fueling himself for what was to come.

Xiannarr took one step forward, and then another, his saber spat to life with a howling screech. This was a weapon that screamed for blood, it hungered for it, and Xiannarr would be damned if he didn’t sate that hunger.

“Lord Xarxes, if you can continue to hold them I’ll turn them into minced meat.”

He then began to run, each step feeling faster than the last, yet still, the Dread Master wanted more speed. Feeding his body with the force willing it to move with blinding speed, he launched himself at the nearest Shyrak. Closing the distance with a hawk bat swoop Xiannar reverted back to his favoured form Makashi. Moving with practised footwork, Xiannarr was in his element cutting and slicing out at every shyrak in reach. Each strike aimed for the neck or wings, with a final sharp spin on himself he cut out at the shyrak he was currently dealing with. Before closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths centering himself and activating his aura of unease hoping to dissuade any remaining shyraks to flee.


Powers used (in order)
Feed on Darkside-2
telekinesis-3 (to summon the lightsaber to my hand)
Speed-2
Ataru-1 (hawk bat swoop for first attack)
Makashi-4 (the rest of the dice roll attacks)
Aura of unease-2



Ooc
This post was written ambiguously with gm permission so as to allow the dice rolls to determine how many of the Shyraks I can target in a single turn

tags:
@corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Darth Dreadwar, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia
 

Tobbi Airskipper

Active member
IC: Tobbi Airskipper

Damn it.

Damn it.

Damn it.


Here? Now? Why?

What a first day this was.

Tobbi muttered to himself as the enigmatic brass soldiers of the planet Axum made their approach, while he huddled over the computer screen with Cruella and a Devornian named Bordst.

Tobbi thought about his situation and wondered if he would make it out of this alive. If not, this would be a horrific way to die. And Tobbi had enough experiences with those to last a lifetime.

Tobbi had lost everything, and now he was surrounded by people he didn't know or trust. Tobbi sighed; he knew he was only a single asset, a mere unit in an establishment full of talent. Tobbi even reminisced on his days at his peak, where he constantly felt like a star. A blazing light in the cold penumbra of space, and now...Tobbi was dirty and felt faceless, his importance now gone.

Those days were gone.

His wealth gone.

His influence gone.

His self-satisfying feeling of constantly being in the spotlight.

Gone.

Tobbi knew what this was.

Hell.

Tobbi would have to live with the choices he made. With the people, he allowed in his heart. All Tobbi wanted was a family, to have people that constantly loved and worshipped him, and he kept trying to build that.

Tobbi kept trying and trying despite the signs that what Tobbi was looking for was never going to happen, nor did it even exist. He learned that the hard way and the pain that resulted in that fateful day being forever singed onto his skin, a seemingly permanent reminder that his life, and his existence was a facade.

Now all Tobbi could do was wait for the Aximand to save their hides from the monstrous soldiers of this accursed industrial world.

As Tobbi was lost in his thoughts, but slowly returned back to reality once Cruella spoke. And Tobbi listened, but he did not respond; her words were confirmation that their survival relied on chance and probability.

Tobbi calmed himself, his face still expressionless; self-pity and hatred weren't going to help in this situation. Tobbi knew that if the Aximand were to get here, the landing zone would be swarmed and fast as the trio were frightfully exposed in their current position.

Thinking quickly, Tobbi started using telekinesis with the intent of picking up loose objects and using those to form a barricade of sorts. Hoping that he didn't make too much noise doing so.

Powers used:

Telekinesis - 1

TAG: @Darth Dreadwar
 

Admiral Volshe

Legendary Member
NGE Empress
IC: Empress Kára Volshe
The Underdelve

There was chaos around her, carnage and chaos, and it wasn’t exactly helped by the fact I-Ron was currently yelling nonsense at the hypergate.

If you’re going to use mechu deru on it, I-Ron, tell it that the Empress of Zakuul wishes for it to direct us to Nirthos. N-i-r-t-h-o-s,” she said, then quickly rattling off the coordinates while resisting the urge to shake her head. This entire situation was growing more bizarre by the minute. She was in this dark and stale catacomb, surrounded by fifty children and a large swath of the Sith order, all of them being chased by her ex-husband and a god who quite literally fit the description of a sleemo. And now, now a robot Sith was screaming at the intergalactic portal that was spewing enemies. But despite I-Ron’s bizarre behaviour, she was not going to look a gift guarlara in the mouth. “And, if you will, ask it nicely to turn off the incineration field so we can use it, regardless of if it changes the coordinates.

She turned to Lord Nihl, her features creased into a frown. “Stay close. I do not trust any of this. But see if you can find two Sith to investigate that. It may be an avenue we can utilise-


She nodded to the very dark corner that nobody had yet looked into, and she had somehow missed up until this point. It was dark, pitch black, which meant that there was at least something beyond what they could all see. At that moment, she noted two of the Order’s more powerful and formidable Sith had descended into the underdelve. Her head quirked as she reconsidered the direction she had given to her husband. Two birds, she thought, looking their direction.

Lady Hesper, Lady Noxia,” she said, calling behind her. “And you.” She looked pointedly at the mysterious Sith who had earlier handed her the datapad. “Investigate that area, behind us. We already have a team in that tunnel, and I am - we are - working on the hypergate.”

Powers Used:
None

A/N: the mysterious Sith is intended to be Hadzuska. 😅

TAGs:
@corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Cardun Vrek, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Undying Master Xiannarr , @Catalyst, @Darth Dreadwar, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia
 

Cardun Vrek

Legendary Member
Moderator
Jedi Council
IC: Darth Mavros
Location: Sith Academy Underdelve, Korriban

Hold them back…turn their attention away from us…

Mavros' attempt had succeeded, and for now, at least, the spirits of Korriban were doing his bidding. He allowed himself to relax, just ever so slightly, and opened his eyes. Lord Kain was gone, and the Empress was clearly working on some magic of her own. The active Hypergate loomed over the chamber, and Mavros shifted somewhat uncomfortably.

Why didn’t she deactivate it? Who knows where that thing leads? Or…who it leads to.

Mavros had only read passing references to Hypergates. To him, they were more of a myth than reality; something fantastical out of antiquity, remnants of a bygone age. To think that one had been here on Korriban this whole time, underneath the feet of thousands of aspiring and learned Sith, and not one had realised it was here made him chuckle internally. But that brief amusement was quickly stifled by another thought; if the Hypergate was active, then someone *had* been using it.

And then it activated.

Wonderful…just…wonderful…

Three skeletal beings emerged out of the portal generated by the Hypergate. Two of them set off after others that were also in the underdelve, but the third looked directly over to where he, Reatith, and Mirtis were positioned, and raised a skeletal hand towards him.

He acted purely on instinct; all thoughts of supporting the others above completely eradicated from his mind. *He* was in danger now, from whatever this thing was. And his survival took precedence over everything else.

If the ones above died, they died.

And judging by the continuous sounds of collapsing stone, they may be dead already.

He sprang up to his feet, lightsaber in hand. With a cruel sounding hiss, the crimson blade erupted from the hilt. But the lightsaber was only there for defence, as a last resort. He had better ways of pressing the attack on this new enemy.

Concentrating hard, he drew a circle in the air with his left hand. Focusing his hatred wasn’t hard, he simply had to conjure up the face of his now dead former Master in his mind, and a wave of hatred surged through his body. He had wished he had been the one to kill him. He owed him that for the Dathomir stunt.

As the circle neared completion, he directed the bolt of hatred he was attempting to conjure towards the skeletal figure pointing towards him. In his head, he imagined the bolt was heading towards Darth Halcyon.

If only…

“Sutta Chwituskak!” He growled aloud, attempting to make his hatred manifest, every syllable tinged with anger.

POWER ATTEMPTED: Sutta Chwituskak (3)
POWER CEASED: Corpse Vision (2)


TAGS: @Darth Dreadwar, @corinthia, @Arach, @DarthNoxia, @dragonsith13, @Grievance Vexx, @Reiis Invadator, @DarthFeros, @Darth Xirr, @Nacros_Telcontare, @Kielor, @Jihadi Quartz, @Darth Nathemus, @Helkosh, @Darth Solus, @Darth Xxys, @Reatith Blodraald, @Darth Cruor, @Darth Kain, @Admiral Volshe, @Catalyst, @Undying Master Xiannarr, @Voidwalker, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @Keres Dymos, @skira, @Zareel Jhenan´doka, @Volacius, @Drakul_Xarxes, @Darth Thana, @Sith_Imperios, @DarthNoxia
 

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