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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2017 4:27:20 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban Jania would be glad that her step back wasn't commented on but she didn't think it would stay that way forever. The girl was the newest one here and they needed to send someone across to make sure it was safe... of course they would send the acolyte who doesn't even really know what a Sith is. She's expendable and has no real worth to anyone in the galaxy besides herself. Jania was almost ready to give up and wait for her name to be called when she heard Apollyon speak up and offer to take the first trip over to check it out. The surprised face not leaving her she took her step forward as the woman lifted herself off the ground and began the way across. Watching curiously as to see what would occur, Jania folded her arms as she began to hear the whispers again in her head. Stepping all the way up to the pool as to get a closer look at the substance, Jania wondered once more the story behind the toxic lake. However, her thoughts were sidelined by the voices causing her to lift her left hand to gently hold her forehead. The girl squinted her eyes hoping to drown them out before opening to see Apollyon landed and turning back to them to speak. "It's safe to cross. Come on, come on over. Jania and Robyn are not strong enough to lift themselves, so if a Master would levitate them across first, then-- AUGH?" Seeing the tentacles shoot from the lake and attack the women with their stingers scared the acolyte into immediately falling back onto her butt and looking on in horror as the attack finished just as quickly as it started. Scooting back on her hands and feet the same way Apollyon did would have made it look like she was mocking the woman but Jania was legitimately scared for her life at the moment too. When she felt she was a safe distance away from the lake she stopped and looked up to see if the Sith was ok. When she saw the woman was missing her eyes and was blinded, Jania couldn't stop the scream from leaving her body. "No! You can't make me go across there! I won't do it! I don't want to die!" She yelled out as she just didn't seem to have any control over her emotions at the moment. She had seen men and women killed in her lifetime but never left in a condition like that. "You... are not meant... to become... Ssith.." the voices began to hiss in her head. "You will die child... and become nothing... mourned by no one... remembered by no one..." "No shut up! Get out of my head!" She yelled at herself as she clutched her head with both hands. Jania knew she looked pathetic to the rest of the group but she didn't care, she just wanted this to stop.. she wanted to be in her shack of rusted metal talking with her only half friend and smiling as she ate her usual scraps. The voices finally retreated and the teenager was able to collect her bearings slightly before just sitting there, her head in her knees silently crying making sure no one saw tears. She whispered to herself only once before going totally silent. "Home... I just want to go home." TAG: Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Volshe, dice, Darth Catalyst, Darth Dreadwar, Padawan4687 |
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248 
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Sept 8, 2017 14:38:08 GMT -5
IC LORD HYPNOSThe Great Reep, Iokath Hypnos balked at the protocol droid’s translation of his words to the Rakata that had so rudely greeted him before. While they weren’t wrong per se, Hypnos had chosen his words deliberately. The Rakata truly meant little to him. His goal was the Abominor. Nothing this lackey had to say would be any more consequential than the buzzing of the gnats surrounding Blessed Toxmalb’s head. The protocol droid, however, would continue to surprise him. The droid seemed to transform in front of him. Hypnos saw the telltale shimmer of hologram projectors and instantly knew their function. It was intriguing that the droid took on the shape of an organic. "All hallow the Ari. I shall be your guide, Lord Hypnos.” How did she know his name? “I am Marchioness Anigma, daughter of Count Viceryion and Countess Vexan,” she introduced herself cordially. “Please," Anigma motioned towards what appeared to be a teleportation device. "Perhaps we should adjourn to my luxurious quarters, and discuss things in a more comfortable setting?" Hypnos quizzically scanned her. A droid masquerading as the daughter of an organic? Hypnos knew that human and other organic replica droids were well known to play the part of a body double. This one seemed to be taking the role to heart. Its programming had convinced it that it was in fact the organic it was meant to portray. While this made for a flawless impersonation, Hypnos wondered what would happen if the droid ever met its organic counterpart. Unless said counterpart was already dead. Then this droid would be an almost perfect replacement. Hypnos was amused at these queries. Organics were so very entertaining in their capacity for attachment. "I would prefer if we stayed aboard here.” Hypnos bleeped in response to her invitation. “I’m here for the ship, I’ve made that much clear.” TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Sept 8, 2017 17:22:16 GMT -5
IC LORD CATALYST
Sadow's Tomb While Catalyst bickered with Xirr and Coatlec and as the initiates were voicing their own discontent, it seemed that Viscretus and Apollyon were actually constructively planning. Catalyst didn’t catch Viscretus’s murmurs over the distortion of voices that was Coatlec and Xirr but he saw Apollyon step forward shortly after and addressed Xirr’s concerns directly. "Lord Xirr," she purred, as she crouched near the pool's lip. " While the clarity of your analysis is truly... supernaturally prescient.. I will suggest this. We are looking for a secret entrance, no, to an unexplored section? Something no other Sith has found before us. So perhaps the standard way is not the way to proceed. Perhaps this pool trap was designed with higher cunning than we thought; suppose the existence of the grenades is meant to invite us to use them, but actually, the easier and more efficient way of getting across is simply..." She began floating across the pools, lifted by her own eldritch power. Catalyst drove his elbows into the sides of both Xirr and Coatlec as she made it to the other side unscathed. “See? What did I tell you?” he goaded them. “Easier than we were making it out to be. Now, Coatlec if you want to float your acolyte across.. What is her name again? No matter. I’ll propel Shaire and then we-” his words were cut short by the tentacles that emerged and pierced Apollyon’s eyes from beneath the lake and the string of profanity that followed shortly after as she was blinded by the creature. Catalyst was almost impressed at the language that she had employed in her rage. “Anyways,” he said loudly over Appollyon’s screams, “Coatlec you toss yours, I’ll toss Shaire, and Xirr you should be able to-” Again he was interrupted but this time by Coatlec’s own initiate screaming like a maniac. "No! You can't make me go across there! I won't do it! I don't want to die!"Catalyst sighed as she finished her rambling and at the end caught her faint wish to be back home. Really Coatlec? Such a weak apprentice you have chosen. Once the tomb was quiet and still again he pulled his helmet off of his head and let his hair loose. “We’re doing this,” he said firmly. He held the helm under his arm and took hold of his saberstaff in his free hand. “Someone has to save our skins.” He jumped up above the lake and began floating across on a wave of his own telekinetic power, eyes scanning the pool below. Once across, he ignited both of his saber blades and settled his boots on the stone floor, keeping a keen eye on the lake shore for more tentacles. “Here,” he shoved the helmet to Apollyon’s chest, “put this on. Maybe it’ll save what’s left of your face.” TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, dice, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, @lordjania, Padawan4687
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Sept 8, 2017 17:24:49 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban After putting much thought and running through every scenario, Coatlec presented his strategy to Apollyon, while also giving the dog Catalyst a genuine opportunity to present his temperature control amulet. But all Catalyst did was jump on Coatlec's case. "You honestly think there's still a grenade in there after thousands of years? Did the traitor Revan list how many grenades were in there? Or how many he used to freeze the pool? There's a far easier way to go about this," but Catalyst's proposal was to lift people across using the Force, but this was an obvious bad decision as Revan could easily done that three thousand years earlier. There was a reason he froze the acidic pool. It was Xirr who spoke up next, strangely defending Coatlec for the first time ever. But Coatlec knew it was a facade just until they got back to the academy when they could.....settle their differences. He echoed nearly Coatlec's exact thoughts as he spoke in response to Catalyst, "Perhaps we should consider checking for another grenade before risking use of the Force, Lord Catalyst. If you were meant to use another method to cross this gap, there will be measures preventing simply levitating across the gap. Invisible nanofilament wires perhaps? Or even the Force prevention measures we saw in the pits outside? What do you say?" Coatlec was quite surprised at the agreement of Xirr but before he could speak again it would be Lady Viscretus. Well that's a first...even if it is just until we get back to the academy...no matter Talon left us...she's still my mother and I won't let slime like Xirr have her! The two apprentices seemingly having no idea what we should do. "I see great beasts, braying in the darkness," Lady Viscretus said, "I see the terentatek, I see them fall by the revanchist's blade. Down there, Coatlec may be right. But what is right at this crossroads, I cannot say. It is beyond even my vision." With the agreement of Lady Viscretus, Coatlec was sure of the plan. Very good indeed. We'll just freeze the pool and walk across safely. But then....it happened!! Apollyon disagreed with the three of us, and lifted herself across the pool. As she landed seemingly safely she started saying, "Well, It's safe to cross. Come on, come on over. Jania and Robyn are not strong enough to lift themselves, so if a Master would levitate them across first, then--AUGH!" It was then that Coatlec finally spoke up but all he could get out was, "Oh Force!! She's blind!" But many thoughts ran across his mind though he didn't want to sound outwardly unsympathetic, She should've listened to me. There's a reason Revan used a grenade instead of lifting himself over. But then his thoughts and focus shifted to his young apprentice as she was seemingly knocked back at the same time as Apollyon. He noticed her back away from the pool moments before. She yelled, "No! You can't make me go across there! I won't do it! I don't want to die!" Coatlec then entered her mind once more to perceive her real thoughts on the matter. But all he found was strange voices yelling in all directions so he quickly retreated out of her mind. What the kriff was in there? Coatlec knew there was only one thing left to do. Something they should have done first or they wouldn't be in this mess that they were in. Enact his original plan of getting the grenade from the right passage. So he retreated to the right passage. I have to do this...for Apollyon. TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, dice, @lordjania Padawan4687 |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Sept 8, 2017 21:31:37 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban After running halfway down the passageway dead set on his original plan of getting the grenade, a thought hit Coatlec's mind. Almost like it was from the Void itself. Pppparrrttt the ssseeeeaaa. In the twenty years of his life, he never had a thought come from outside his own mind before, so he resolved to listen to it. Rejoining the company, he confidently said, "I have a better idea. I'm going to separate the pool into two sides, while I search for the creature through the Force. Keep all eyes on the pool as the creature could jump out and blind is at anytime...or worse. Then when he attacks, kill the kriffing thing!" Focusing the full potential of his telekinetic prowess, Coatlec closed his eyes and reached out his hand with the Force, separating the pool into two sides. There is always more to learn... TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, dice, @lordjania, Padawan4687 |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Sept 8, 2017 23:14:49 GMT -5
IC: Darth Nihl Location: Lower Valley, Korriban Nihl charged at the zombie-like carcass with the most chaotic strokes of the lightsaber he had ever done before. But nothing. She dodged every stroke by mere inches. Then she started speaking in her horrifyingly screeching voice, "As a child in play scatters the heaps of sand that he has piled on the seashore, so are you more an enemy of Korriban then you are of me." Nihl snapped back at the hideous creature, "I am no enemy of Korriban, carcass! I have been loyal ever since Lord Krayt found me! Even my son is a Lord in Emperor Dreadwar's Empire!" But as if she never even heard Nihl she continued, "If you were to face an ancient Sith Lord in combat, you would find you are as a child playing with toys compared to prowess of the old masters." But before Nihl could even respond, the kicked up sand turned into a swarm of locusts that spoke with her, "He has risen! The Dead King!..." Nihl knew that could only mean one thing. Andeddu. But that's as far as the thought went as the swarm began attacking Nihl while Blight yelled, "Nihl, watch out! Don't let them touch you!" Driven by rage, Nihl reached out with the Force drawing electricity down his arm into a blast of Force lightning targeted at the swarm then yelled to his companion, "Blight!! It's time for us to leave! We have to get back to the academy!!" TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Sept 9, 2017 22:33:59 GMT -5
Name/Title: Voidwalker (Birth name Draven Nethervoid), The Dread Heir Age: 18 standard years Sex: Male Species: Human Homeworld: Onderon Occupation: Warrior Height: 6'1 Appearance: Tall and slender with an athletic build, dark hair, facial hair varies. Dark colored eyes (black during certain times), medium to fair skin tone. Weapons: Two twin lightsabers Equipment: None Description of Abilities: Adept at Telekinetic Abilities Personality: Voidwalker is impulsive and headstrong. Always ready to prove himself in battle. Yet he's also cynical and often at time cold. He's can manipulate majority of people by bringing out the worst in them. Biography: Darth Voidwalker was raised and trained early at a young age on the planet Onderon. His "birth name" was Draven Nethervoid. He knows nothing of his parents so he has none to speak of. His earliest memories are of his training. The man that trained him was more of a master than a father. The name of the man was Dzoun. Dzoun trained Draven in the ways of the force. Neither in the ways of the Sith or Jedi but the force itself. A group of resistance fighters on Onderon had came and killed Dzoun one early morning while Draven was out training. Draven returned to their make shift home and discovered his master had been killed. Never truly dealing with death before at that young of an age Draven was consumed with anger and sought out revenge for the death of the only person he'd ever truly known. He slaughtered the resistance fighter that had came to his home and killed his master. His anger giving him clarity in his actions. After he got his revenge he decided it was time for him to leave Onderon and move on. For the better part of 10 years he held himself as a Dark Jedi only out for his own good. After a strange Force Vision he returned to Onderon to the only home he knew. In the attempts to learn more of the Force and after going though his old Masters's belonging he came across the ancient writings and teachings of Sith before. Draven studied every form and tactic he could from the scrolls and tried to learn as much of the Sith as he could. In his Masters's personal writings he found the term Dread Heir mentioned frequently and had originally brushed it off as nothing. After coming across a section pertaining to him he once again noticed the term Dread Heir as describing the young boy. Referring to him in further detail as a "Void Walker" and comparing him to the ancient Sith Darth Dreadwar. Then it was confirmed that Draven was a distant and direct descendant of Dreadwar. Being taken back by this Draven knew that it was time for him to seek out Dreadwar. Draven decided it was time to be more than he was. He then decided he was to be a Sith Lord by dropping the only name he known and taking the name Voidwalker. He proclaimed "I will be Sith!" Level/Stats : Level 1 Apprentice Telekinesis Force Choke Force lightning Force Avalanche Defense Djem So Juyo Attachments:
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Sept 11, 2017 3:24:01 GMT -5
IC: Raspir Location: The Great Reap, Orbiting Lokath As the droid drew near to the pair of Sith, it began to translate the binary message of the shard to the Rakata. It said, "Kind Lord Raspir, it would be an honour if you could show me around this fine vessel. I have come bearing no ill will, and no secrets. While I hear your words and appreciate their wisdom and significance, I must confess that I am most interested in this mighty ship of yours, for it is truly magnificent." Yea that's nice. This shard will not touch my ship. But then, it changed. The gold plated droid transformed into a beautiful Zakuulan woman. Raspir had seen the techno-wizardry of Zakuul ever since he began serving the Emperor, but would never get used to it. Such magic should only be done by the Force, not petty Droids. But the droid-now-woman spoke up again saying, "Please, perhaps we should adjourn to my luxurious quarters, and discuss things in a more comfortable setting?" The shard said something in his horrifyingly archaic binary, but it was unknown to Raspir. So he replied cordially, "Countess Anigma, perhaps we should stay here as I am the captain of this ship," And I have other plans... "But by all means, you two can stay here while I get back to the bridge." Once back on the bridge, Raspir commanded his Great Reap, "Set coordinates for Zakuul! I believe Infinity would like to have a word with this shard." TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Darth Catalyst |
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Sept 11, 2017 18:37:43 GMT -5
IC: Darth Xirr Inside the Tomb of Naga Sadow "Lord Xirr," Appolyon cooed, crouched near the edge of the pit as if she intended to dive headfirst in to the toxic sludge "While the clarity of your analysis is truly... supernaturally prescient..." She continued, Glancing back at Xirr suspiciously "... I will suggest this. We are looking for a secret entrance, no, to an unexplored section? Something no other Sith has found before us. So perhaps the standard way is not the way to proceed. Perhaps this pool trap was designed with higher cunning than we thought; suppose the existence of the grenades is meant to invite us to use them, but actually, the easier and more efficient way of getting across is simply..." She stopped abruptly as she began to carry herself over the pool. The luminescence of the liquid illuminating her in a sickly green hue. Then, just as she had began, Appolyon touched down upon the hard stone on the other side of the lake. All was quiet for the moment, as the rest of the Sith seemed to still be awaiting the inaction of some elaborate trap, but none came. Appolyon soon invited the others to cross just as she did, though she was abruptly cut off as she was struck in the face by the horrifying tentacles of an unknown beast that lurked beneath. The profanities flowed forth from Appolyon's mouth, as Lord Xirr recoiled from the pit slightly, either in shock of the attack, or in horror of the now ever-marred visage of Darth Appolyon. "Gods..." Xirr began in almost a whisper, though he had no other words... Time began again for Xirr as he was shaken back to reality by the screeching of Lord Coatlec's apprentice "No! You can't make me go across there! I won't do it! I don't want to die!" Everyone looked to her for the moment, as she cowered back from the lake and crawled on her hands and knees backward towards the wall. Then, Catalyst removed his helmet, drew his saberstaff with his unoccupied hand, and floated across the pit towards Appolyon. As Catalyst touched down, Xirr felt a sudden absence of bodies in his vicinity, looking for Coatlec, he found that he had dashed off back down the hallway, presumably to retrieve the grenades he had previously spoken of. In preparation for another attack, Xirr removed the twin saber hilts that hung from his belt, igniting both blades, and bathing the corridor in a crimson light. Then, Coatlec dashed back around the corner. "You're back! And...without grenades, I see?" Xirr queried, his eyes glued to the frothing pit of toxin in front of him "Care to explain?" Coatlec did not respond to his questioning directly, instead, the man simply approached the pool by Xirr's side and spoke "I have a better idea. I'm going to separate the pool into two sides, while I search for the creature through the Force. Keep all eyes on the pool as the creature could jump out and blind is at anytime...or worse. Then when he attacks, kill the kriffing thing!" He shouted, before parting the toxins up the middle, seemingly cleaving the glowing green pool in twain. Xirr did not argue with Coatlec this time, and his gaze was yet again glued to the pit, awaiting another strike from the tentacled creature, except this time, when it attacked, Xirr would be ready.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133 
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Sept 11, 2017 19:16:32 GMT -5
IC: Robyn Shaire
Location: Tomb of Naga SadowRobyn took several steps back from the acidic pit, only pausing to stare up at Lady Apollyon as she... floated over? It literally looked like she was walking on air, and Robyn's own mental reminders that the Lady Sith was just using the Force on herself kept her jaw from sinking. She couldn't quite shake a feeling of nerves behind the awe, and it came to a head once Apollyon landed on the other side. A chill raced down Robyn's spine as she spotted a pair of thin tentacles dart from the acid, and it attacked before she could so much as open her mouth to shout. It... it jabbed her right in the eyes?! She didn't scream, at least aloud. It was smothered by both hands as the injured Apollyon lifted her head and exposed the extent of her wounds. It didn't jab her eyes, it outright plucked them out! The last time she watched Apollyon take a grievous injury may have been satisfying, but only because of the cruel teasing beforehand. This time? No satisfaction to be seen for miles. "There is no way in hell I'm going out there!" She shouted almost on impulse to Catalyst's cold suggestion, as though he completely ignored the tentacled eyeball-snatching creature that apparently lurked beneath the acid! Could Lady Viscretus heal that sort of damage? ...can eyeballs be restored anyway, or would she need prosthetic replacements? Robyn was seconds away from panicking herself when she realized someone was panicking far worse than her. The second Acolyte, the new girl. Completely losing yourself to panic was a great way to get yourself killed out here on Korriban! And it was clear that the other Sith had other plans. "H-hey!" Robyn started walking toward the girl, and crouched to her level. "Just breathe, okay? Focus on my voice," she continued, "You're not going to die in here." She lightly rested a hand against the girl's forehead and tried breaking up the waves of fear she could clearly sense with her own sense of safety. Not that she could outright promise survival... "You are not going to die." Robyn repeated, firmly. She didn't feel a shred of conviction behind those words, but she'd say anything if it helped this girl to calm down and actually boost her chances of survival. Now I'll just feel worse if she does end up dying here. But we're both Initiates and the adults here are apathetic, so... "Just stick by me, and your Master. You'll be okay."TAG: Darth Catalyst , dice , Volshe , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , @lordjania , Darth Dreadwar
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Volshe
Administrator 
.: Empress
Posts: 229
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Post by Volshe on Sept 11, 2017 21:05:49 GMT -5
IC: Darth Viscretus
Acid Pool, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanFrustration tugged at Viscretus’ focus. Such an unseemly chaos spawned by the monstrosity’s brief appearance, a loss of apathy in the heart of a tomb riddled with deadly enigma. It would be their end. She could not even focus on her friend, not when her eyesight was all that had been lost. The most she could do was cast an ephemeral veil of acedia upon Apollyon, hoping to dull the grievous injury no one could cure. They were all endangered by the tricks of the tomb, and whatever may lie ahead. In fact, she realised with faint sigh, were it not for the fuel of the Dark Side, spawned by the tomb and the Valley’s undying nexus, they would have now been doomed to fail. One without sight, the other without power. The musk of aged stone burned in the air, acrid as the pool sloshed from its carved bounds. The fumes were not all that filled the darkened chamber, not all that tugged at the edges of their collective consciousness. Fear. Hatred. Pain. Suffering.She inhaled the poisonous air. Apollyon’s screams merged with Jania’s in an echo of quondam terrors. Voices gripped in darkness, clutched by horror and the throes of death itself. Wails of those fallen to the Void, ruthless in its conquests. Waves of vibrant emerald, rising to either side, searing the rock as Coatlec parted them. The monster – monsters, potentially – hidden within one of the swells. Xirr stood at the ready, following the orders given. Yet the monstrosity had been lightning fast, quicker than perhaps even she could react. There was no possibility they could destroy it with one attack. She glanced across the pool to Apollyon, her free caramel hand lethargically prodding the lidded sockets, which still dribbled with blood and vitreous fluid. With all hope, Catalyst would provide her protection from now on. Should he not start a game of acid polo instead. Her senses could detect Robyn approach Jania, the Zeltron Initiate’s calming murmurs attempting to soothe the Acolyte’s fears. One less exigency to draw her focus away, but two less to focus upon the beast below the eerily still liquid. They were too close. All of them. Perhaps the path would allow a return for the two comrades across, perhaps the monster would remain lurking in the depths. But it would not matter if one swipe across the shore killed them all. Thus, she had orders of her own. “ Back away.” The order was eerily soft, nearly unheard in the carved grotto. She did not give a moment for them to think. “ Do not question my orders. Back away.” Her mind churned with tactic and stratagem, but she could enact none of them were they all in danger. For the moment, her hands crackled with faint static, surrounding those near her with a barrier of lightning. The rest, barring her friend and Catalyst, would come under her protection when they followed her orders. As the air fizzled with acrid smoke and the warm flicker of energy, she studied the cavern and pondered their conundrum. TAG: Darth Catalyst , Padawan4687, Darth Dreadwar, dice , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror ,@lordjania , TAGSET: False Tomb of Naga Sadow
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Volshe
Administrator
.: Empress
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Post by Volshe on Sept 12, 2017 0:38:31 GMT -5
IC: DynamiNear Sakkra Kla, The Lower Valley, KorribanYes, yes, it thought to itself in the chorus of voices, none quite its own. You shall flee to your masters, so that they too shall fall! Of course they would run, as any did when faced with the power of a God-King risen again. The power that rushed through its vessels and brought it greatness, that lead its heart to throb with unending devotion to such glorious Sith… oh, how delectable! How unimaginable it was, that it could barely even simulate such boundless energy as it witnessed it! It cackled as the lightning of Nihl glanced off the swarming insects, dancing in the air, eliminating few. Empowering more with the arcane energies. They hissed as the energy dissipated around them. It would send them far, back to where they had come from. Back to their sanctuary that would soon be defiled by its Lords. Brought to their knees by power immeasurable and Darknesses eternal. It would find those who thought themselves fit to lead, and it would inform them of it all. Of the Destiny it had seen. Of the Eternity that would come to steal them all away. Of the Truth. It rose a dust-caked hand, fissures lacing the skin. The sand beneath them began to rumble, faintly, before morphing into deafening roar. Now, now, now, it whispered, run away home, as you children always do.They could not escape the will of Fate, nor the armies it would send. TAG: Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , Darth Dreadwar TAGSET: The Sands Outside the Great Temple
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Sept 12, 2017 2:34:05 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonNear the acid pool, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanDarkness. There was only darkness. She had thought the tomb to be the pitchest of blacks, but no; there was no crypt that could match the void. The void that had stolen her life, when she had found that accursed spellbook in the wastes of Arkania. The snow, beautiful, scintillating snow... The void that had stolen her child. That squamous, squealing squaw, with her shriveled skin of alabaster rather than the caramel I had expected, screeching in fear as it was wrenched from my arms, ne'er to be seen again... Now, even if I find her, I shall never see her. The void she had devoted her life to, that had now seen fit to take her eyes, Apollyon thought bitterly. Bitterness, already? Not denial? Had she overcome her pain and shock so quick as to already be bitter about it? Ah, of course. Viscretus.
She had been in unbearable pain before, but before her body could enter a state of shock, her friend had reached out and blanketed her with warmth, dulling her senses, calming her mind and... She wasn't sure what else. As she felt around the ruin of her eyes, there was wetness, yes, but not any more wetness. Viscretus had healed her. No, she had not restored her sight. Such was beyond the arts of the Sith. Apollyon had thought this was a simple esoteric principle, that healing could restore a body part to its rightful form but not create the form anew if it had been lost, but Dreadwar had called her naive and superstitious, as expected for one who conceptualised the Force as a logical, Celestial-designed computer. But Viscretus had stemmed the bleeding, and removed extraneous, damaged tissue, she suspected. Apollyon wiped the gore from her face, leaving behind dark voids where pupil, iris and sclera had once been. Yet the same cosmic power that had once made her eyes flare with fire now sat in the two pits like brackish water of onyx foulness, a permanent scar, literal and spiritual, that the tomb had imprinted upon her.  She would never see again. Not with what was left of her physical eyes, at least. And that crushing despair, that sense this wasn't an injury she could simply sleep off in the medbay or trust in her ivory-skinned counterpart to mend, was enough to overpower any rage she felt brewing at Catalyst, even now, being brutish and cruel in his mockery. It was humiliating to know that any attempt to rip out his lizard's tongue, an easy feat before, would now result in him easily overpowering her. She had been an artist, lashing the canvas of the Force with the crimson blood of the Dread-King's unholy foes, but now she was a painter gone blind. Weak. Helpless. And so instead Apollyon muttered, "thank you," as she gingerly felt around for the helmet Catalyst had given her, finally getting a firm grasp on the helm and placing it on her head, after attempting to put it on the wrong way around at first. She had been in too much pain, before, to hear the cacophony of fear that had risen in tumult from the other side of the poison lake, but she heard, now, the soft voice of her friend. "Back away." Why? What has happene--Her thoughts were cut short by the gurgle of what could only be the still-hidden lake monster, as one tentacle lashed out from the wall of supernaturally risen liquid on the right-hand side, betraying the devilsquid's location. But there was something more significant that Coatlec's telekinesis had revealed. Right there, in the middle of the pathway he had opened, was a trapdoor. A closed hatch, a single slab of stone only distinguishable from the wet, sizzling rock around it by virtue of its smoothness, and the corroded lever of durasteel at its lip. The mausoleum's architect had been clever indeed. The pool had been designed, and the tentacular horror placed, so that the obvious means of passage - such as that foolishly attempted by Apollyon - would be rewarded with pain or death. No, to reach the chamber of the Star Map that lay beyond, according to Revan's journal, one first had to venture down the right-hand passageway, to a room guarded by two Terentatek. That room in of itself had been of cunning design, for while two Terentatek were two too many for even a Sith to ordinarily defeat, it was possible to vanquish them through fleeing into a far antechamber, and slice and hack at the Sithspawn through the doorway, which was too small for the great beasts' girth. Once accomplishing such, one could retrieve grenades of fire, and grenades of ice. The latter froze the pool over, allowing one to walk freely to the Star Map, and unlock its wonders. The former boiled the liquid into toxic fumes, quickly bringing about death. Intuitively, the wrong answer to the puzzle. Unless... unless one held their breath, using the Force to their advantage, in which case they would survive long enough to be able to unlock a far greater wonder. Revan had thought himself clever, for ferreting out what he had thought was the trap's secret. But he had not thought a level higher. The Star Map was not the only treasure in the tomb. And no, by chance, by a trick Revan had not attempted, Coatlec had discovered the way to the true treasure: the undiscovered, unexplored and, up until now, entirely hypothetical secret section of the tomb Apollyon had talked about. The place where perhaps the sarcophagal chamber and missing fragment of Sadow's prophecy could be found. Or perhaps it was merely the trapdoor to a workman's shaft, a passageway used by slaves to build the lake snare and place the monster? There was only one way to find out... and one devilsquid to fight through. TAG: Volshe Padawan4687 Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror dice Darth Catalyst @lordjania
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Sept 12, 2017 3:28:29 GMT -5
IC LORD CATALYSTSadow's Tomb Already Catalyst has taken up the familiar opening stance for Soresu. Defending Apollyon while the rest of the team was mulling about was his current priority. When he saw Coatlec return from the crossroads he couldn't help but shake his head. The idea Coatlec had put forth this time was positively ridiculous. Parting the sea? It seemed overly dramatic, even in Catalyst’s eyes. But Coatlec was convinced it was the proper thing to do. As the bastard son raised his hands and spread the acrid pools, a new light dawned on the mystery of the tomb. There, in the center of the lake, was a trapdoor. Catalyst didn't have time to congratulate Coatlec or make his way to the door because shortly after Viscretus gathered the troop behind her and a field of power was cast about them. To his side, the tentacled horror that dwelled in the lake made another appearance, this time simply lashing from the wall that Coatlec held in place. Catalyst grinned. The beast revealed itself to them. Rather than lunging at the tentacle like a barbarian, Catalyst simply adjusted his stance so that he faced where he could assume the body of the squid was. He reached out and took hold of the visible tentacle with the crushing grip of the Force, attempting to drag the squid from the lake and onto the dry path that Coatlec had created. “This ought to make your day,” he muttered mostly to himself. If I can get this thing out of the acid, it gives the rest of them a chance to actually do something to it.TAG: @lordjania, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, dice, Padawan4687, Volshe, Darth Dreadwar,
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Post by Deleted on Sept 12, 2017 3:57:32 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban Jania would continue to whimper in her own agony as the voices from the healing ritual continued to plague her until a voice louder than them started to shout "There is no way in hell I'm going out there!" Turning her head to see who is was she noticed Robyn freaking out now and wondered if the girl was having the same dreadful fear of dying as well. Looking over to her for a few more moments the voice began to scream at her once more. Clutching her head she began to panic once more before beginning to rock back and forth. "No I'm not!! No I'm not!! No I'm not!! Shut up!! Shut up!! Shut up!!" She would scream at her loudest while holding her hands up to both of her ears now and slamming her eyes shut hoping the void of total darkness in her sight would help even the slightest. "H-hey... Just breathe okay? Focus on my voice." Jania would open her eyes slightly and look over to Robyn trying to comfort her. "You're not going to die in here." The hand touching her forehead caused her to take a deep breath and relax slightly as the voices seemed to retreat now that she had outside influence in her head. Looking up at Robyn she blushed slightly before looking away as the girl still had an hand on her head. "Just stick by me and your Master. You'll be okay." Robyn would inform her before going quiet as well. Jania continued to focus on the soft touch as it was keeping her at bay. Finally being able to form a complete sentence she would simply speak just above a whisper so it could be heard. "Thank you.. I'm feeling a little better now. I just seemed to lose it right then. I didn't know being a Sith meant stuff like this... how could voices just appear in my head?" She looked over to Viscretus as she wondered if the woman played a significant role in this. "Did y-you have s-some-thing to...do..." she would try to continue but then hear Viscretus speak directly into her mind and what she assumed Robyn's mind as well. Freezing up as she heard "Back away... Do not question my orders.. back away." Her body seemingly moving on its own began to back away as she looked over to Robyn to see if her body was moving as well. She wanted nothing more than to stay with the girl who was keeping her comfortable. The question for Viscretus forgotten in the folds of her mind she just continued to back away as she was barely keeping focus on the stuff happening with the toxic lake. Jania was being the burden of the group and was hoping that eventually that would change before they decided she wasn't worth keeping around anymore. Tag: Volshe, Padawan4687, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Darth Dreadwar, dice, Darth Catalyst |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Sept 12, 2017 5:38:16 GMT -5
IC: Garn TarcrulusTarcrulus' Modest House of Sin, Iziz, OnderonOne hundred and forty three years. One hundred and forty three years since a Sith had walked through the towering gates into the great walled city of Iziz, capital of Onderon, home of the mighty Kira dynasty. That Sith had been disguised as a pilgrim, mistaken for an old beggar, helped along by those claiming to be his sons as he limped across the cobblestone plaza, the subtleties of his sorcery dissuading merchants from accosting him as he made his sojourn to a distant fortress - where that Sith had died for the final time. That Sith had been Emperor of numberless worlds. The Sith who passed through now, unknowingly retracing his forebear's hobbled steps, was no Palpatine. But he was heir to another Emperor, the Dark Lord of the present, the Dread-King of a thousand stars. How fitting it was that the descendant of the ancient Sith Lord Darth Dreadwar should discover his ancestry on Onderon, which had such a long and complicated association with that most revered and unholy Order. Not merely the site of Sidious' final end; the walls of Iziz themselves represented a feat of arcane architecture, every mammoth block placed through the telekinetic prowess of King Freedon Nadd, who had apprenticed himself to a mysterious and unknown Dark Lord that was active in the shadows centuries after the Great Hyperspace War, and, after failing to overthrow him - although having succeeded in killing his previous master, Naga Sadow - had come to Onderon, settling for rule over a planet if he could not rule the Sith. But Nadd and his dark power, which flowed even now, however diluted, through the blood of the current Kira royalty, was not the first stain upon Onderon's past. No, there were things older and fouler in the wilderness, a Sith armory where a metallurgist called Shas Dovos had discovered a spellbook and a malevolent spirit dating back to the time of the legendary Sith'ari Adas, an enigmatic anachronism even by the complex standards of Sith history. Rich was the history of Onderon, and rich was the putrid blood that flowed in the veins of the newly self-proclaimed Darth Voidwalker. Richer still in coin, Garn Tarcrulus, owner of the bustling brothel at the east end of Talia Market Square.
"So, you want to get to Korriban, hm?" Garn quirked a smile, not looking up at Voidwalker as he entered the procuress' luxurious room at the back of the pleasure house, instead leafing over a leather-bound tome as he sat on the bed between two scantily-clad prostitutes. Wetting his finger to turn the crisp pages, Garn narrowed his eyes, pretending to be a little too preoccupied, a little too important, to pay immediate attention to the newcomer. Finally, after tutting over the book as he traced his fingers down the columns of cruelly barbed letters, he closed the book with a snap, smirking up at Draven. "Well, you've come to the right place," he said. Garn's reputation preceded him. He was more than a brothel owner; his wealth had fuelled many a hedonistic pursuit, including his exhilarating shadow career as a dealer in the illicit trade of Sith artifacts. An admirer of the occult and amateur archaeologist known as one of the best of the trade in Federation space. And now that Voidwalker met him in-person for the first time, he would feel the subtle ebb and tug of energies around the thin, opulently-dressed man. He was a Dark Jedi. "Getting to Korriban is hardly an easy task, particularly from Onderon." Garn referred, of course, to the fact that Onderon was part of the Inner Rim, and as such, part of the territory of the Jedi-backed Galactic Federation. "You have the Federation patrols and even Jedi on your ass if they catch wind you're going to Sith Space, the fact Korriban is ring-fenced by the dangerously finicky Stygian Caldera, and of course the Imperial fleet which will blast you to smithereens if you don't have a damned good reason to drop out over their capital unannounced."He turned a second to shush one of the girls, who was giggling a little too loudly at a joke the other had made. "I can make arrangements to smuggle you there," he continued, not allowing Voidwalker the chance to interrupt, "but it'll cost you. It'll cost you a lot more credits than you expect and probably a lot more credits than you have. But I'm a reasonable businessman, and there's things I value more than cred chits. I hear you have... similar interests. Maybe an artifact or two you can spare, hmm? And maybe you'll help me smuggle some artifacts to a contact down on Korriban's Academy. But that would require a lot of trust. I don't like making bad investments. So if I was to consider any of this... I'd have to know, and don't lie to me... I've a good knack at telling lies, isn't that right girls..." Garn winked at one of them, before turning back to look up at Draven. "...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?"TAG: Darth Voidwalker
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Sept 12, 2017 16:22:57 GMT -5
IC: Alisha TanoLocation: Feast, Cathedral of the Holy Jedi Spirits, Odesson (With GM-approval)Between the rising smoke and her own tears, Alisha was trapped by thousands of hands and virtually blinded. While her sight was virtually gone, she sorely wished that her sense of hearing could have been taken instead. Screams rose up from in front of her, and lightsabers began to clash. Alisha didn't need to see to realize that the Imperial Knights were on the attack. She also didn't need her eyes to know they were vastly outnumbered. Stop! Alisha wanted to shout from where she was stuck struggling to move, Don't fight them! Don't die for me...!Isis, the witch in white, might as well have been a chunk of ice the way she spoke now. She stood completely impassively as the brave men and women determined to rescue Alisha were overwhelmed, and quickly slaughtered. As though this sickening... "cleansing"... was completely inevitable. //Shira...?// Alisha's mental whisper sounded completely broken. //Xal'den... Is anyone there?// She didn't wait for an answer, and closed off her Bonds. Her shoulder's sank in growing despair, and Alisha's shaking stopped completely. The pressure against her every limb didn't ease, and she just looked blankly at the flames creeping ever closer. ...just let me go with them. The heat alone was growing intense enough to make Alisha wonder if she was already getting burns, and the smoke was choking away precious oxygen. Maybe she'd suffocate first? The sound of heavy transparasteel shattering and crumbling to the ground forced Alisha to focus again, if only slightly. That didn't fit the sounds that typically accompany a lightsaber fight... or a massacre. However, something must have broken past Isis's cold facade badly enough to get her to cry out. //Hold your breath.// Came the Grand Admiral's booming telepathic voice. //Do not fear.// ...what? Alisha immediately snapped back to life with a gasp, mentally shouting, //What do you mean 'hold your breath'?! What did you do?! Grand Admiral No!// Her demand went unanswered until a strange cloud of yellow fog rose high enough past the wall of fire. No... that's not fog, that's-! Alisha felt her eyes welling up again once she realized. That was cyanogen, what the Grand Admiral needed to breathe. He must have shattered his tank! Alisha mutely followed what would likely be No's last orders, ignoring the water that still ran down her face. He did it... to save me...? As did all of the Imperial Knights... She couldn't even let out a pained hiss as the heat grew ever closer. The toxic gasses reached her by then, and she noticed with a start that the crushing pressure started to lessen. She could stand again, and quickly did so, flinging off her jacket as it caught fire. The shirt she wore beneath was black... how, appropriate. Only now she could see Isis's familiar white robes as she stood in a little bubble of telekinetic power. She was rerouting all of the deadly cyanogen around her. The longer Alisha silently looked at this woman, the more she could feel her - apparently unclean- blood boil. She had some nerve to ignore the thousands of other members including small children just to save herself! I'm not the one who needs to be cleansed, miss High Shaman... Alisha could see the oil start to gather in the basin she stood in, and without moving, she halted the liquid before it could touch her boots. Cold black tendrils of rage began to coil around her "grey" and "dirty" aura, the same type that appeared around her Mentor back on the Triumphant. This time, Alisha completely let it happen as the oil continued to gather and pile in her basin. Seconds later, in full view of any survivors, she cast a hand in the woman's direction. The burning oil was flung around and out of her death trap, splattering all over Isis's pristine white robes. ...you do. Your soul is what's truly filthy, maybe these flames can save you. Alisha's expression remained cold and detached as she stepped away from the stone pillar, unaware of anything besides her wish for the High Shaman to join the rest of her clan in death. TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Shira
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Sept 12, 2017 18:21:58 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec Location: Right in front of the acid pool, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban Coatlec still stood before the pool, his left arm outstretched, parting it into two sides. He watched as Lord Xirr ignited his twin crimson lightsabers in rare agreement with him, ready to kill the tentacled beast. Well that's a first. "Thank you, Lord Xirr. At least one of the company will agree with me." It was then that he heard the other initiate, the young Zeltron girl begin to comfort his apprentice after her outburst. She said, "H-hey! Just breathe, okay? Focus on my voice. You're not going to die in here. You're not going to die. Just stick by me, and your Master. You'll be ok." Coatlec smiled under his large helmet where none of the company could see, and he spoke telepathically to his apprentice. Jania...you will be safe. We'll be out of here soon. Robyn and I will be there for you. We won't let you die in here. But he felt the doubt in Viscretus' mind. She was not in favor of his parting of the acid pool. She spoke up in a soft, yet commanding tone, "Back away. Do not question my orders. Back away." But Coatlec was confident in his own plan, and he noticed the trap door in the center of the passage where the pool had been. "No, Lady Viscretus. We are killing this beast," he said as he reached his left hand to his belt, grabbing his ornate lightsaber hilt. The Blood red blade crackled as he ignited it. He watched as Catalyst took up the Soresu defensive stance, then it was revealed!! A tentacle sprung forth from Catalyst's side of the pool! He reached out with telekinesis to grab the tentacle of the beast while saying, "This ought to make your day." Haha a day of many firsts. "Oh yes, Lord Catalyst, this makes my day!" Catalyst pulled the beast out to the dry path in the middle, and Coatlec swung his lightsaber down at the beast with a typical Djem So power strike. TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, dice, @lordjania, Padawan4687 |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Sept 12, 2017 22:38:17 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker Tarcrulus' Modest House of Sin, Iziz, Onderon Voidwalker made his way through the bustling city of Iziz set and determined to find his way to Korriban. He had heard of a man by the name of Garn Tarcrulus who could be able to help, unofficially of course. Voidwalker was told that he could find Garn at his place of business, Tarcrulus' Modest House of Sin, so that seemed to be the best place to head to first. Upon entering the House of Sin it became instantly clear what kind of place this was, this truly was a house of sin of the flesh. After making it a few steps through the door Voidwalker's senses started picking up on a presence in the Force. Over the chatter or people, the upbeat music playing, and the smell of at several different perfumes, no doubtlessly used to cover up the smell of sweat and sex, he kept feeling the pull of the presence growing stronger. Standing in the middle of the room he felt a second presence but this one was closer and the pull wasn't as strong, but he knew that it was leading to the back of the brothel. Trying not to stand out and draw to much attention to himself, Draven decided that the best way to get to the back was to blend in and just walk right down the middle. He gave thought to a lesson he had learned early in training and recited it to himself in his head part the sea and they'll never see you, try and hide, you'll get caught every time. pushing the thought from his mind he made his way to the back of the brothel. As soon as he entered the back room he was greeted with the question "So, you want to get to Korriban, hm?" Which came from man who could only be Garn Tarcrulus. Garn sat on a bed between two prostitues looking down at a leather bound book that appeared to be ancient and inscribed with markings of the dark side. No doubt this was a Sith Tome, meaning Garn must be a collector of Sith Artifacts. It did make sense he was very wealthy and one would have to be, especially to be in possession of Sith Artifacts since they were illicit here in the Inner Rim. It was clear that this is where the second dark presence had came from. Garn was obviously no Sith, he must have been a Dark Jedi. The man continued to speak but Voidwalker didn't pay him any attention, he was to busy wrapped up in his own thoughts. The fact that was a Dark Jedi now changed everything, what should have been a simple business negotiation had become an endless set of possibilities. Will he help me now, or is he going to try and pull some kind of elaborate trap or even attack me? I must stay prepared and show no hesitation. he thought to himself. It wasn't until Garn had said something of significance that caused Voidwalker to once again pay him any attention. "It'll cost you a lot more credits than you expect and probably a lot more credits than you have. But I'm a reasonable businessman, and there's things I value more than cred chits. I hear you have... similar interests. Maybe an artifact or two you can spare, hmm? And maybe you'll help me smuggle some artifacts to a contact down on Korriban's Academy". It was just as Voidwalker expected Garn was trying to trap him into a plan of his own benefit. Already Draven didn't like where this was going and his patience was growing thin but for now he allowed Garn to continue on. "So if I was to consider any of this... I'd have to know, and don't lie to me... I've a good knack at telling lies, 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?" "Keep on living? Lead an amazing life? You are a pathetic and squander your use of the Force for material things, you call that living?" Voidwalker asked, and then he continued before Garn could speak. "First you try and blackmail me to do your smuggling for you, and now you dare question my reasoning!" Voidwalker exclaimed. "Here I'll tell you what, you get me to where I need to go and I'll let you keep your life and you'll never see me again." Voidwalker exclaimed. "I'll give you a few minutes to think over my proposition and for your sake it better be the right decision or I'll be back in here with my lightsaber. Oh and just incase you think I'm bluffing just remember this is your fault!" Voidwalker stretching his left arm out his hand in a claw like fashion reaching out with the Force, he gripped the prostitue to the left of Garn choking her and just as quick turning his claw like hand into a closed fist, breaking the neck of the young girl. As he let her lifeless body drop to the floor with a hard thud he turned to head back out into the main room but not before giving a last bit of advice to Garn "Life means nothing to me, don't end up like your 'employee' there and never question a Sith. I'll be waiting for your answer." TAG: Darth Dreadwar |
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Shira
Administrator
.: Empress' Hand
Posts: 135
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Post by Shira on Sept 12, 2017 22:38:24 GMT -5
IC: Shira A’dolaCathedral of Holy Jedi Spirits, Odesson
Shira’s heart sank at No’s message, but she closed her lids to protect her sensitive eyes and held her breath all the same. //Thank you, No.// Gratitude flooded her last mental message to the Celegian. She heard glass shatter, followed by the sound of dozens of beings struggling to breathe, suffocating in the gasses released by No’s sacrifice. She listened dispassionately, casting about with the Force to gain a mental image of her surroundings. Isis would pay, with blood and the cleansing fire she was so desperately proud of. No one touched her apprentice. A strong telekinetic field surrounded the witch and Shira smirked. It took effort to divert air around oneself, to separate pure air from the tainted. Calculations ran through her mind, noting what she could use. Her Force sense was near perfect. Sistros had made sure of that in cases where light sources would damage her eyes; but it was no substitute for sight. On the other hand, Isis’ attention would be divided, her attention focused on diverting clean air for herself while she fought. A sound caught her sensitive ears and her head tilted towards the noise, focusing sharply. Lips turned up in a cold smile as she heard Isis’ stunned gasp, the sound of splattering oil hitting her robes. Shira pivoted swiftly, silver blade bouncing off the metal of a wall, hungry sparks flying towards Isis, intent on igniting the oil now coating the Jedi to feed on her flesh. Shira spat, venom in her every motion. She could not call herself a Jedi. Lessons taught by Sistros, remembered too late, spoke to her of an ancient sect of Jedi who had departed to the uncharted planets of the universe. They were supremacists, purists, evil beings who had sought to cleanse the galaxy. She kicked knives off the table in quick succession to the sparks, aiming them just perfectly to bounce off of the walls, flying at Isis from all angles. Her head cocked again, sounds helping to build that mental picture granted through the Force. The knives hit the walls, flying towards Isis and Shira vaulted towards her opponent. “Your life is mine, Isis!”TAG: Padawan4687 , Darth Dreadwar ,
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Sept 12, 2017 23:16:21 GMT -5
IC: Darth XirrTomb of Naga Sadow
A trapdoor! Coatlec had revealed a trapdoor! First, though, the 'Watcher in the Water' (Or in this case, Pool of deadly toxic goop) had to be dealt with. Lord Xirr took up the customary, agile, stance of one skilled in the fourth form of lightsaber combat, his dual sabers buzzing in front of him, causing his already red armor to seemingly come to life. Behind him were the flickering shadows of himself and his most unlikely of allies, Lord Coatlec, cast upon the stonework, along with the fellow sith that they had taken up the mantle of protecting from the creature for the time being. Then came the soft, yet powerful voice of Viscretus “Back away. Do not question my orders. Back away." Xirr had no intentions of complying with that order. The beast that lie in wait within the frothing torrent of luminous green liquid had taken enough from them, and he planned to repay the favor, tenfold. Xirr's opportunity arose as the creature lashed an eldritch tentacle towards Catalyst, who like Xirr had taken up his blade against the beast. Though, when the creature attacked, Catalyst simply adjusted his stance? Then Catalyst made his real move. Reaching out with the crushing grip of the force to drag the monstrosity into the dry patch created by Coatlec, who followed up the move with his own, making a powerful swing at the creature with his own lightsaber. Xirr, of course could not allow Coatlec the glory of felling the mighty beast, so he acted. Xirr lunged through the acrid air towards the now exposed beast, flipping head over heels as he traveled, the crimson blades that spun along with him becoming one circle of beaming red light. In what was but an instant, Xirr unfurled his massive form and came down on the beast, attempting to rend the skull of the creature in two with his blades, ending it's pitiful existence in a mere second.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Volshe , Darth Catalyst , Padawan4687 , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Shira
Administrator
.: Empress' Hand
Posts: 135
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Post by Shira on Sept 12, 2017 23:46:47 GMT -5
IC: The Twins
The Tombs under Korriban
Shock crossed Scionica’s face, the creature’s masochistic efforts drawing her slowly towards it. Violence did not shock her; her nature was sadistic and masochist, drawing joy and pleasure equally from the dispensing and receiving of pain. What she could not understand, however, was the aspect of intentional mortality that this creature was displaying. Battle required both participants to contribute, seeking to injure, maim or otherwise permanently disqualify the opponent. It depended on the drive to win, to survive; and yet here was this creature, impaling itself to the point of death. To what purpose?
A warning entered her mind, the presence both familiar and unfamiliar. It was as if the gut instinct in her mind had raised beyond the normal limitations she was accustomed to.
DUCK!
She ducked, the sound of air rushing past as the beast’s claws lashed out overhead, narrowly missing her throat, for which it had aimed. Her ears caught the sound of blades slicing through meat and the ghoulish head rolled off of its shoulders, rolling towards one of the dark ends of the passageways.
Her eyes caught that of her sister’s, before swiftly glancing away. She could see the dark rivulets of blood dripping slowly from Kevala’s downturned blades and the uncertainty once again infused in the air around them. The raven-haired woman brought out a cloth, wiping the blades clean and returning them to their scabbards. Scionica wrestled with her staff, disgust flooding her features at the state of her weapon. With a final heave, the staff came loose.
“Scionica, stay still!”
She glared at her sister, but complied, curiosity warring with her desire for retribution. Kevala jogged to the wall behind her twin, fingers running lightly over the liquid, hairs away from making physical contact. She leaned her head carefully towards the wall, hearing the faint sound of hissing.
She stepped back sharply, looking towards the ceiling. “It’s acid. I do not want to be here if the roof collapses. We have to move.”
She jogged down the passageway. There was no ability to tell which way was the right way, so she simply chose at random, shuddering at the mental image of some great lake of acid crumbling down on her. It was likely a greatly exaggerated image, of course. The stream could be no more than just a stream, but she felt no great curiosity to find out.
A swift warning sounded in her mind but, before she could act on it, a cry was wrenched from her lips. Sharp agony flared in her shoulder before her head made contact dizzyingly with the rock face. Breath heaved from her chest as adrenaline kicked in and she shoved back against Scionica, but her twin adjusted her footing and Kevala shrieked as the other woman twisted the knife in her back.
“You were going to kill me,” she hissed, vitriol piercing the hot breath that brushed against her twin’s neck.
Sable hair fell from her braid, covering her eyes and Kevala pushed back again, only to be pinned harder against the rock face. “You came after me first, sculag!”
The blade twisted further and Scionica's snarls sounded over the moans of pain. “I was insane!”
“You’re still insane!” Anger flared in Kevala’s voice. “We’re potentially under a pool of acid, in a passageway filled with monsters and demons on a planet ruled by the Dread King and you want to settle this now?! Is your life worth the fleeting satisfaction of your unhinged revenge?”
Silence reigned as Scionica warred between common sense and the need for vengeance. A crack rang through the corridor as the blade was withdrawn and the hilt cracked sharply on her sister’s skull. Kevala fell to the ground weakly, eyes staring dazedly around her. “Sci, you’re such an idiot.” She heard Scionica scoff and she rolled her eyes before wincing, regretting the motion immediately with the oncoming concussive migraine. “What are you supposed to do if you find yourself before another one of those...things?”
No response sounded, nor was one expected. Kevala rolled carefully to her knees, groaning painfully. She reached into her pack and applied an antibacterial spray along with a temporary application meant to close the wound, followed by a moderately strong pain medication. Pulling herself carefully to her feet, she glared at her sister, ivory eyes peering through the darkness. “Let’s go. Unless you want to stay here to die.”
Scionica’s features were twisted in rage and agitation, but she followed her sister nonetheless, falling a few paces behind, the glares directed at her twin almost as palpable as the knife she had speared in her back.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar
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Volshe
Administrator
.: Empress
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Post by Volshe on Sept 13, 2017 18:54:44 GMT -5
IC: Darth ViscretusAcid Pool, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanThe breath of Viscretus escaped into the air with a hiss, her annoyance only infused by the mephitic humours that swirled about. Certainly, Catalyst had little option to ignore order given, as he was tasked with protecting the Hand from whatever tentacled beast lie in wait. The others, ruled with brutish pride, commanded by ego yet-unearned, had more choice than any of them. A full repertoire of Force powers available; an unsurpassed magnitude of intelligence, skill, and pure wit before them...and they had chosen this. To stand within great walls of liquid acid, vaporous levees ready to shatter and release a torrent upon them both, should Coatlec's concentration so much as falter. To stand beside the monster of many appendages, whilst only one is entrained in battle. To stand before a Sith Lady of great power - and inordinate temper - and defy her direct orders without so much as a word. Perhaps she had overestimated the true magnitude of their intelligence. " Midwanwaiyun." Her tongue spit the hissing insult even over the ambient roar of the Force and the thrum of their lightsabers. In the same breath, just as Xirr had leapt towards the monster ahead, her hand flew back, fingers clawed in concentration. " Imbeciles." The walls of acid churned, the Force screamed as the Sith Lady bent it to her whims. And in the blink of an eye, the beat of a heart, they rushed towards the centre. Within them, both Xirr and Coatlec stood. As did she, standing, posed as sculpted royalty with her hand yet still raised. Viscretus' violet lips twisted into a smile, a nauseating malice twinkling in her seething eyes, the amulet resting upon her heart glowing with violent darkness. The torrent of foaming, sizzling liquid approached them in a split second that no doubt would feel like eternity. Her other hand snapped up, talons gripping the shifting air. In that same moment, the waves crashed together, surrounding the pair with acid, the roiling fluid so close to their skin they could feel the alchemical hunger it had been imbued with. So very close, it began to devour the armour they wore, the lightsabers they clutched in hand. So near their faces that they daren't breathe, nor blink, should it somehow escape its occult bonds and force itself into their orifices, feasting upon their delicate flesh from the inside out. And then, her fists clenched, and the torrent collapsed into a pool. Viscretus allowed the Tutaminic barriers surrounding the pair to recede, ever so slightly, the sudden force splattering noxious droplets towards them, moistening their skin, the thinnest layer seeping through their boots as they stood within it. " Respect your superiors, woyunokskut." All at once, it receded as though another tempest were about to arrive. It flooded around her and draining into the passageways beyond, the dull emerald glow fading from her pale features as the last waves left them in absolute darkness. TAG: Darth Catalyst , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , Padawan4687 , Darth Dreadwar , dice , @lordjania , TAGSET: False Tomb of Naga Sadow
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Sept 13, 2017 21:03:18 GMT -5
BOSS FIGHT: Your character is in a potentially and imminently deadly situation. Be very careful in your next response! IC: ISISPius Dea Cathedral Ship, orbiting OdessenCOMBAT MUSICAlisha Tano began to burn up from the inside. No, not from the physical fire; her deft use of telekinesis had made sure of that. But as her rage reached a tumultuous pinnacle, she would begin to feel a heat spread from a rapidly pulsing heart, flooding her veins with intoxicating power and lighting her eyes with the barest flecks of gold. That dreadful Sith she had helplessly watched fight her Jedi Master, all of those years ago, would have laughed in glee at the sight. He would have called it the unrestrained Force, the Force when no longer shackled by narrow-minded dogma. But there was no denying what Alisha's rage had tapped into. It went by many names. Bogan, the Jedi of old had called it. The Left Path, others had revered it as. But Alisha had been raised to known it as only one thing. The Dark Side. Stronger? That was for philosophers to debate. But quicker, easier, more seductive, even the wisest of Jedi would admit. Stronger in the short-term, for certain, flooding Tano with an intoxicating power that would nigh double her offensive applications of her abilities, even while bringing the surging and unsettling feeling that it was no longer entirely her own rage. It was if the Force of the Cosmos itself was enraged alongside her, its siren song reaching an ear-piercing crescendo, Alisha Tano as much its instrument as she was the conductor of its raging, wildly discordant choir. Do not defend, it seemed to whisper to her in a ringing, silent scream. Attack.And against the tide of Alisha's rising rage, against her telekinetic attack of oil helped in ignition by Shira's sparks, Isis stood tall, and calmly, a foul, false and blightful beacon of luciferous light. The fire swaddled her with the warmth she held for the children No had murdered, as her pristine white robes were set ablaze, and Isis became a pillar of fire, smoke and flame rising as if shooting for the very stars themselves before curling at the invisible ceiling of the atmospheric containment field. But she stood unmoving, as silent as the grave the courtyard had become, as the fire consumed her robes, the only sign she yet lived being the exertion of telekinetic power that redirected the maelstrom of knives towards, and through, the magcon shield above and out into the void of space above. The fire died, despite having more oxygen to feed it as the Cathedral Ship's ventilation recycled the air, dispersing the cyanogen at the same time. And Isis was left standing, naked, her ebon skin darkened only by melanin and not a single lick of flame. That terrible smile returned to adorn her countenance, the High Shaman of the Ordu Aspectu entirely unbothered by her own nudity. The Mother Force birthed us without raiment, ordure, she thought to herself. And you cannot fight fire with fire! This cliche applied more literally than not; the convective arts of the Kro Var Shapers had suffused the Terrible Glare's teachings. When one learned to alter one's body chemistry to set enemies ablaze with a single touch of a burning finger, one learned to infuse oneself with Force energy that rendered one immune to heat. “Your life is mine, Isis!” Shira called, vaulting towards the unburnt Grand Master, silver lightsaber in hand. Isis raised a scorched hilt of chrome in her fist, and depressed the igniter. An unstable, frothing blade of golden plasma snapped into being with an infernal hiss, indicative of a cracked yellow kyber crystal. With a mere flick of her wrist, her lightsaber angled to meet Shira's descending blade in a perfect parry, the momentum of the Vraeling's leap causing Isis to only take a single step back into the elegant, balanced poise of Makashi; Shira would instantly recognise the frighteningly easy footwork of a true master of the lightsaber. "All life belongs to the Force," Isis corrected, smiling as her eyes began to blaze with pure white light. "Are you ready to become one with it?"And then the fight was on! Isis twisted her blade around Shira's guard in a quick and clever riposte that brought her blade jabbing towards the Vraeling's neck in a stunningly split second. Her free hand, meanwhile, levelled towards Alisha and let loose torrents and torrents of searing white-hot fire. TAG: Shira , @Padawan4687 |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Sept 13, 2017 23:38:21 GMT -5
COMBO WITH DARKHERMIT AND GORZANIC: Lemmy, Tarpy and Kint DranlorCargo hold of the Dauntless , in the middle of nowhere
Kint nodded. "So, my current plan is this. We bombard that pyramid with all the shit we got. I personally have a massive amount of weaponry on board. I don't know about you. But once we get close, we board, the both of us, free Persevus, and take down the field. At that point, we can either go separate ways, or we can stick together and work something out. I am in no mood to get in any unnecessary fights right now. You have any ideas?" "Wellp," Lemmy began, "they likely have a powerful particle shield due to their size. They gotta have a weak spot though, somewhere where the shield is thinner or where hitting it will overload it. I got a rack of proton torpedoes that'll do some work but the real trick," motioned towards the back of the ship, "is the payload of seismic charges I got in the bomb bay. Those babies will mess up a good chunk of whatever is in their blast zone. I know yer ship is more maneuverable than mine so I will need you to draw their fire before I can get close enough to give em a headache." "Hmmmm interesting," Kint replied. "Would ion canons be more efficient taking down those shields?" "Hrmm. Depends on the shield," Lemmy returned. "Ol' Dauntless here soaked yer ion cannon just fine so I dunno what it'll do to these beasties." "Excuse me," the tarp spoke up calmly, stretching itself vertical as if raising its finger in questioning, redolent of the exaggerated motions of a cartoon character. "Are you fucking morons?" It rippled powerfully from side-to-side, conveying the shake of a head. "Go up against a capital ship with exotic weaponry, when it has an entire fleet to hand? I know I'm just a clueless tarp, but we need to think... you know... I don't kriffing know... Cleverly, I guess. Brains not brawn, you feel me?" Kint raised an eyebrow. "Well it depends on if we treat this as a pirate raid or something more. We could cloak ourselves to drop the life signs from the ship, giving them the impression that we are dead. Then they would be more likely to reel us in to take our cargo, giving us a chance to board them." "That's all fine an' good if ya have a spare cloak lying around," Lemmy snorted. " Dauntless here doesn't hide well. She prefers to be in yer face." "For what it's worth," 3D-4XR chimed in, "I did try to hail them. I was met with an unpleasant garbled transmission and what appeared to be a plasma cannon of some sort. I do not think they are the least bit interested in anything we could offer." Lemmy turned to Kint with a glimmer of mischief in his eye. "Ya got that mirror still? Cause if it makes the opposite o' somethin' maybe pointing it at the gravity well generator will turn it into a repulsor of sort, lettin' us jump out." He shrugged. "Or it'll turn the ship into a giant droid. It's a gamble." "Not cloak the ship," Kint said. "Cloak ourselves. Tarpy should be perfectly capable of that. Once they can't detect any life signs they should move in to loot the ships, or draw us in. Either way, we kill the raiding party, deactivate the gravity well, and get moving. Hopefully after freeing Persevus." Lemmy shrugged. "Liked my idea better." "How do we know they are interested in looting?" 3D -4XR stated. "Their objectives are as yet unrevealed to us. This mirror that my master has mentioned seems to hold quite some significance. I would not be surprised if it was in fact what these beings are after as well." "Turd ya genius!" Lemmy shouted. "We can lure 'em aboard a ship with it! You get to the cockpit and shift to low power mode, keep a set of coordinates ready to jump out as soon as ya can. We'll hide out under Ol' Tarpy and kick 'em in the balls when we see 'em. I'll meet up with you on Terminus provided Kint here doesn't shoot me in the back." Kint frowned at the droid. "That was literally my stated plan." 3D-4XR turned to Kint and bowed. "I am quite sorry if I have offended you. My master often requires multiple explanations in order to fully grasp a concept." "TURDFUCKERGETTOTHECOCKPIT!" Lemmy barked. "Right away sir." The protocol droid began marching back to his station, leaving Lemmy alone with Kint and the sentient tarp. Said sentient tarp began floating up towards the two unlikely teammates, unfurling itself to its full breadth in readiness to cover them both. "I just want to let you know," it said dourly, "that I estimate our probability of survival to be... OVER NINE KRIFFING THOUSAND PERCENT, YEAH BOY! SENTIENT TARP!" It hooted and hollered, dancing around in the air as it rotated, before finally calming down. "Alriiighty then..." It said awkwardly, reading the room. "Well, down to business. Huddle close, you two. Don't make a pipsqueak... And you'd better not fart." The tarp promptly let itself flop, falling to cover Kint Dranlor and Lemmy, its voluminous folds cascading to pool around their shoes on the hold's deck. The magical tarp shimmered for a second, and then the two vanished from sight. To any onlooker, the cargo hold was completely empty. Empty and quiet, for only a second, and before either Kint or Lemmy could correct the tarp on its understanding of the finer nuances of the plan they had devised, the entire cargo hold began shaking. The signature of the shaking was unmistakable to any experienced spacer. They were caught in a tractor beam. Tarpy could only hope Kint and Lemmy had enough time to retrieve the mirror from the adjoining ship, and set up an ambush. The Ninûshodojinyaut, the gargantuan Chirikyât-class Interdictor that had ensnared them, was looming closer and closer to the Dauntless and the attached Durendal, drawing both comparatively tiny ships towards a mammoth hangar bay opening at the base of its misshapen pyramidal superstructure. And that's when they would feel it. In Lemmy's old pirate bones, in Kint's mind's eye. Evil. Pure, unadulterated evil washing over them as the ceiling of the hangar slowly glided over the Dauntless, malevolence filling the air with the thick redolence of sickness and plague. It was nauseating. And the tarp, despite a complete lack of skin and cutaneous thermoreceptors, shivered in a whisper. "I feel... cold." Kint would never have felt anything like it before. It was not the dark side, that had pulsed around Darth Persevus like a crimson nebula ignited by an eternal pyre of anger. It was a complete absence of the Force, an all-engulfing void that encompassed him with cloying claws of malfeasant power. Perhaps the closest analogue to it was the aura of a Yuuzhan Vong, but although it would feel difficult to channel the Force when surrounded by such an abyssal void, Kint was still able to access his powers. Indeed, if he could not access the Force, he would not have been able to veritably taste the sickly presence of rot and pus that the gaping wound in the Force bled. And that's when it would become quite apparent that he had never gone up against something so powerful, so evil, in his life. Whatever it was, he would sense, was all around them, on every deck of the Ninûshodojinyaut. Mysterious clanking noises sounded and the cargo hold shook one last time, as the Dauntless was lowered to the deck of the vast hangar bay. It was not long before the boarding ramp was forcibly lowered, and six figures entered the hold. The hulking humanoids were a little taller than man and dressed in tan cloaks and white loincloths, with simian snouts, eyes like yellow lanterns, blood-red skin and strange spines, fins and fleshy tendrils sprouting from their faces and mostly bare bodies. They did not belong to any readily recognisable species, but their appearance did match rumours heard only in recent years on the uncharted worlds that Kint and Lemmy frequented as denizens of Wild Space, of strange crimson-skinned demons that lurked in the darkest depths of the Unknown Regions. Kint alone would be able to sense the tug their presence exerted upon the Force; they were Force-sensitive, but only mildly so, and the wickedly bladed halberds they carried in meaty tridactyl hands seemed to radiate more danger than their paltry command of the dark side.
 Hovering at the shoulder of the boarding party's seeming leader was what could only be described as a spinning black orb, as spiny as its owner and even fouler in its aura. "Ginhush gerak na tak!" The leader spat, and the orb, rippling with dark energy, floated off to the Dauntless' airlock, obeying its orders to scout out the Durendal. The leader's empty sulphuric eyes scanned the hold, a frown creasing his gorillian mouth, as if he sensed something amiss. He hefted his polearm warily, and spoke aloud to the empty air, causing his compatriots to glance at him strangely. "Gejikk hu gontu Jen'ari Darr tah Venomis!" TAG: Darth Catalyst , gorzan
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