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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Sept 29, 2017 20:58:01 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker Garn's Modest House of Sin, Iziz, Onderon There was truth in Voidwalker's words, he didn't wish to kill the brothel owner but he was ready to do so if the need arose. He never took his eyes off of Garn as if he waited for the Dark Jedi to make some sort of move, but it was almost as if the last bit of Draven's words left his lips there was a sudden and noticeable change in Garn. The look of a mad man replaced for a look of fear for a split second, yet that look had vanished as quickly as it came and replaced with a look of thought and deep concentration. It was in this instant that he knew that he had backed Garn into a corner with no escape and he would soon have his way to Korriban. Garn just continued to stare at Voidwalker almost as if he were trying to make a connection, similar to how one tries to remember a person they had only previously met briefly or in passing. After a moments time Garn finally spoke after letting out a sigh. "Well, it seems you have me. I s'pose I have no other choice." These were the words of a man who was so prideful and hated the fact that he admitted his defeat out loud. As the last of Garn's words fell from his lips he walked past Draven, his lightsaber still active and as before pointed downward. Voidwalker watched Garn as he moves past him making sure Garn didn't have another trick up his sleeve. Garn made no attempt to strike but continued over to the reception desk were they young girl was still cowering. It had seemed that the young mans words sank in and Garn would do just as Draven had instructed. Garn walked around the other side of the reception desk and with one quick stab of his lightsaber the blade found its way through the girls head, a simple in and out through the girls temple. Garn dragged the girls body back into the back room where his meeting with Voidwalker had originally began. Draven stood idly by as Garn took the girl to the back, he could hear Garn rummaging around in the room. He could hear various sounds such as Garn putting the body of the girl on the bed, the deactivation of a lightsaber, and what sounded as a small door being opened. A short few minutes would pass and Garn returned out into the main room of the brothel with a duffle bag. He looked at Voidwalker and said "I'll get you transport to Korriban. But we're both going. There's no way I'm remaining here once Jedi come to Onderon, and tear the whole planet up looking for darksiders. I need to get out of Federation space, and so do y..." The abrupt sound of sirens approaching had cut Garn off mid sentence. Police speeders and who knows who else were on their way. "Kriff! Follow me, out the back window!" Garn began running towards the back of the brothel, retracing the hurried steps of the prostitutes that had fled earlier. Draven wasted no time in following right behind Garn towards the back window, although the thought to betray Garn did cross his mind. The thought was a quick but simple one If I cause him to knock him unconscious then I'll absolutely get away, then again I won't have my transport. No, I need him....for now, but I'll remember this lesson, treachery is the Sith way....TAG: Darth Dreadwar |
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Post by kurtishenschel on Sept 30, 2017 0:23:26 GMT -5
Name/Title: Karina Syna Age: 20 Sex: female Species: human Homeworld: Tatooine Occupation: part time crew member on a freighter in return for safe passage Height: 5'11 Appearance: tan skin, long dark brown hair, athletic build, slim body, missing both legs (replaced with prosthetic ones)  Weapons: Blaster pistol Blades on her prosthetic legs Equipment: Communications device Personal holopad Casual outfit Description of Abilities: most of Karina's skills are focused around flexibility and athletics to use her legs as weapons. She would secretly take self defense lessons when her father was too drunk to notice her sneaking off. Besides that she relies on her training with a blaster Personality: cruel- due to harsh treatment from her father and sister. Paranoid- she is somewhat paranoid about those around her since she lost her trust in most people due to her experiences throughout her early years Loyal- despite having very little trust towards others she can be very loyal if the person she is following has qualities she can respect Biography: Born and raised on the desert planet of Tatooine Karina had a rough upbringing. Her mother died when she was five years old after giving birth to her little sister. Her father took his sadness and anger out on the girls and would often hit them in a drunk rage. He was so blinding by the loss of his wife he never knew how important it was that his eldest daughter was force sensitive. Rather than allow her to develop her powers he would beat her until she learned to stop using the force. Over the years she forgot about her gift due to not being able to use it thanks to her father. But forgetting about her gift would pale in comparison to what she'd go through all because of her father. When she was twelve her father lost his job at the local spaceport and turned their home into a scrap shop selling whatever he could. Due to his constant drunken state he sent the girls out to retrieve metal from wrecks or run down buildings, to ensure they brought back enough goods the girl that brought back the least amount of scrap would have to sleep on the floor and would barely get fed for the week. Due to being older Karina always managed to bring back more which meant her little sister Dalia always had to suffer through sleeping on the cold floor and barely eating. Over the years Dalia began to resent her sister and when Karina was sixteen (Dalia being eleven) she decided to seize a opportunity to gain the upper hand. The sisters were scavenging from a old crashed freighter that was on the verge of falling apart in certain spots. As they made their way through a narrow halfway Dalia managed to hit a weak support beam with a large chunk of metal bringing parts of the roof above Karina down. A large metal panel fell on the girl pinning her down at the knees since she fell back as it came down. More metal fell onto the panel crushing her legs underneath it as Dalia grabbed her scrap and ran off leaving her older sister to die. Fortunately for Karina a moisture farmer passing by heard the noise and investigated assume it was a bunch of Jawa's but to his surprise he found the unconscious girl. He was unable to pull her out from under the rubble and had to remove her legs at the knees so he could get her out before sand people arrived. After wrapping the stubs that were left of her legs up he rushed her into town. She remained in the town clinic for two weeks during which her father only visited twice, once to confirm she was his and then when he came to take her home. The clinic couldn't provide her with permanent replacements for her legs due to her father's low income status so rather than getting advanced cybernetics she received replacement legs in the form of some scrap metal her father put together using parts he didn't sell. Her legs were mainly comprised of a metal frame supporting a vibroblade giving it a somewhat high-heel look. Since it took her several weeks to adapt to her legs Dalia got the upper hand for the first time ever. A bitter rivalry grew between the sisters since Karina couldn't carry as much scrap and because Dalia was never held responsible for what happened to Karina. This went on for two years until it reached its tipping point, the pair was going through a abandoned building when Dalia attempted to finish what she started two years prior. The girl went to hit Karina upside the head with a metal beam but Karina caught on in time to spin around bringing her leg up to deflect the beam. Rather than force the beam from her sisters hands however her prosthetic cut through the thin metal and severed Dalia's right arm. The thirteen year old fell to the ground but attempted to stab her sister with a chunk of glass. The swing never connected as Karina stepped down on her sisters hand driving the blade through her palm and in a swift kick upward she slit the girls throat ending her. Immediately after the reality of what happened Karina knew her father would kill her since he favored Dalia recently and went easy on her. Returning home alone Karina acted fast and within half an hour her father laid dead at his workbench. Packing her things the eighteen year old left her home for the last time. Making her way to one of the cantina's Karina began to ask around looking for any ship captains in need of a crew. She tried finding one for hours and when all hope seemed lost a young man entered the building. After talking and arranging what she'd do and what her pay would be she secured her way off world. That was the last time she ever set foot on tatooine as most of her time was spent on the freighter and when they did stop at a planet it was usually a planet like Naboo, Ryloth, or Nar Shadda for example. Working hard for two years paid off for her since she managed to afford replacements for her run down prosthetics, she bought brand new ones in the same design since she grew accustom to the ones she had and liked being able to use them if needed to defend herself. But things were about to take a unexpected turn since just because she forgot how to use the force didn't mean others wouldn't sense her connection to it and her captain was bringing her right to Korriban to drop off smuggled goods the sith sought after. |
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gorzan
Citizen
Posts: 93 
Likes: 60
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Post by gorzan on Sept 30, 2017 17:22:21 GMT -5
IC: Kint Dranlor Location: Durendal, within the hangar bay of the Ninushodojinyaut, dead space Kint grinned viciously as dagger plunged into the throat of the soldier, and held his saber at the ready, prepared to wrend the officer in two with a looping backhand strike. Then, suddenly, the man was gone, and a flash of memories filled his mind, causing him to almost stumble a half a step. Dranlor spun. He had seen this before. He saw Lemmy, wielding the mirror, and his eyes narrowed. He activated the PA system on the ship, so that lemmy would be unable to pinpoint his location. “Lemmy. Put down the mirror. Now. I don’t want to hurt you, but we don’t know what that mirror is capable of, and I won’t have someone I hardly know or trust wielding something of that much power.” He drew his rifle, remaining cloaked. “Put down the mirror, and let’s go. We have work to do.” He knew that this might infuriate Lemmy, but he couldn’t have a man who was recently paid to try to kill him, who could not be trusted, running around with something of that much power and unknown capabilities. “Don’t do anything stupid, I don’t want to fight you, you aren’t my enemy.” Tags: Darth Dreadwar Darth Catalyst |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Sept 30, 2017 21:39:52 GMT -5
IC: Garn TarcrulusMerchant Quarter, Iziz, OnderonGarn felt the dark presence of Draven trailing him like his own shadow as he fled into the back of the brothel, the pounding of his boots on the stone hallways no longer audible over the whining sirens. Fortunately, Draven seemed to be in a more cooperative spirit, not even uttering a word of protest as Garn flicked a hand and blew out the far window as they raced into one of the more opulent and thankfully unoccupied bedrooms. Garn did not miss a beat, not even slowing in his run as the channeled the Force into his legs, somersaulting through the window and landing spryly in the back alley below. Fortunately, he was leaping from the second storey, and as such barely required the Force to cushion his fall, instead righting himself immediately and not even caring to see if Draven had followed him before turning left and running down the narrow alleyway, squinting against the evening sun that was unfortunately glaring from the direction they needed to flee in. It was thus his clairvoyance, and not his sight, that alerted him to the fact that the police had arrived outside the brothel, and Garn stopped short just before exiting the alleyway, assessing the situation. The speeders had pulled up outside the front, officers in brown uniforms spilling out some half a dozen vehicles. That call to the police must have been quite something, Garn thought, briefly imagining what whichever prostitute had sounded the alarm had said. He could only hope his girls were loyal enough to not betray his role in the mess, but he suddenly realised they had no reason to lie about Draven, which meant Voidwalker's plan to frame the receptionist as the murderer might not have been as clever as he'd thought. Either way, all the more reason for us to get off this rock, and fast. "Alright, let's go," Garn whispered, as officers raced up the front steps of the brothel and barged through the oak doors. However, he could see others already angling towards the labyrinthine sidestreets and back alleys, and he was briefly thankful he had chosen a sprawling and geometrically complex building to operate from, meaning there were multiple alleyways for the police to choose from, even their numbers too thin to check them all immediately, and Garn and Draven were obscured from their attention, for now, by the sheer number of passersby. "To the spaceport, quickly," he nodded towards the vast, drab monolith of grey metal that cast the eastern end of the bustling Merchant Quarter in shadow, "I've a freighter in my private dock, loaded up with artifacts bound for Korriban. I suppose you'll be helping me smuggle them after all!" He couldn't help but laughing, as he began running out of the alley into the crowd, towards Iziz Starport.
IC: Captain Jacen ThillyThe YT-1930 Freighter Artificer , Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon"Alright folks, take a seat, take a seat," Jacen smiled, waving at the crew to sit down on the garish red leather couches around the hologame table in the Artificer's main hold, as they slowly filed back up the loading ramp after shore-leave. Captain Thilly was a young man, his beard grown out into a goatee in order to convey a vague sense of age and toughness that was somewhat belied by his soft, full cheeks and impish smirk. But no one in his crew, from his fierce Trandoshan First Mate of four years Rakar to their newest recruit Karina Syna, could question the 24-year-old human's experience and success as a smuggler. "We've a pretty simple job, way I figure it," he chuckled as he sat down himself, crossing his leg over his knee and relaxing in his recliner. His crew, of which the freshest had joined two years ago, would be well accustomed to his quirks - and Lower City Coruscanti accent - by now: when Jacen Thilly said a job would be simple, it would be anything but. "We're transporting some merchandise for Garn Tarcrulus, wonderful fella, owns the brothel your red-scaled lass comes from Rakar," he winked at the Trandoshan. "Tricky thing isn't even getting it out of the starport, 'cause the employees here - they're on his cred, you see - already loaded the merchandise into our hold while you lads and ladies were out enjoying Iziz. Nah, the tricky bit is the destination." He let silence reign in the cargo hold for a second, allowing his crew to imagine the worst possible destinations. Nal Hutta. Anaxes. Raxus Prime. And then give them one worse. "Korriban." Before Rakar could even growl in protest, Thilly had his hand raised, forestalling any challenges. "Now, now, folks, I know. I've been thinkin' this one for days. Getting out of Federation space on any of the hyperlanes is gonna be hella tricky, with the checkpoints and interdictors. And then even if our secret hold remains, well, secret, we'll have the Stygian Caldera to contend with." Jak referred to the hyperspatial disturbance that encircled the Sith Worlds, a spherical nebulosity that cradled the dark lair of their feudal Empire, protecting them from invasion through the sheer difficulty and danger of navigating the breakwater. " Aaaand even if we do that, then we have the Sith's 13th fleet and then the Sith themselves to worry about, since we s'posed to hand the merchandise over directly to a fella called Ermir Marcus and no one else. So yeah, I getcha. It's gonna be difficult. But I made a judgment call because, to be honest, Garn's filthy rich and he's offering us 50 big ones." He smirked again, letting the number of 50,000 credits sink into the minds of his crew. Almost enough to buy another used YT-1930. Two ships... Double the smuggling operation... Gods know we're getting overcrowded here anyway. "Now, the hotel is still booked for another night so we won't be leaving until tomorrow, plenty of time to prepare, but I was wondering if any one of you had some sort of plan to get the merchandise past the Federation patrol ships? And I mean past the most thorough of inspections, here, because what we got below deck, lads and ladies... is dark side artifacts."TAG: Darth Voidwalker kurtishenschel
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Post by kurtishenschel on Oct 1, 2017 12:30:38 GMT -5
IC: Karina Syna The YT-1930 Freighter Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon While they all listened to the captain speak informing them of the next mission Karina took the time to clean up one of her prosthetics which seemed to make the man next to her rather uncomfortable. She polished the blade while keeping her eyes on the captain listening to what seemed like a damn near impossible job. Sure they'd be rich if they pulled it off but that seemed to be a big if no matter how experienced they were. She didn't like the odds of something going wrong but all she could do was offer a plan not try and change his mind about taking this job. She made sure not to do anything to interrupt the man since she needed every detail she could get. Once the briefing finished she sat back a little still cleaning her blades to keep the elegant but deadly look to them. " So we need to get this cargo through without getting caught, the client has connections so why don't we see if he can get is in touch with some pirates. If we could get a hold of pirates or something we could use them to draw the security away from the checkpoint. Then we'll only have to worry about getting past a nebula and the sith fleet behind it correct?" Once she felt satisfied with her cleaning she put the prosthetic back on and began to work on the other. " now most nebula can be navigated but this one is different. Maybe there is a gap or a passage way through it that we can find but that'll take tine. Then there is still that fleet, the sith clearly have their own trade routes for them to get supplies from planet to planet.. maybe we could get in close to a sith freighter and attach so we won't show up on sith sensors. That could easily get us down to the planet surface as well so all we'd have to do is deliver the cargo to this sith and we get our credits." She looked the captain in the eyes and gave a little shrug " that's just one idea if anyone has a better one I'm sure they'll say so." Finishing up with the other prosthetic she put it back on and sat back making a metallic clank as her leg hit the metal floor panels giving her a idea. " actually if we can't get pirates we can hide the cargo under the floor here and move stuff around to cover the removable panels. I doubt a search crew would check under those if they do pick up the cargo on the scanner. But that's all up to you I mean you are the captain after all." She crossed her arms in front of her chest as she waited to hear what he though. Tag: Darth Dreadwar |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Oct 1, 2017 20:58:34 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker Merchant Quarter, Iziz, Onderon Draven followed suite running behind Garn as they rushed into one of the back rooms that was empty, luckily. Before Draven even made it to the doorway of the room, Garn had blasted the back window out with a sweep of the Force and jumped out the hole where the window had been. Ah so you do still have some power to you, perhaps more than I had gave him credit for he thought to himself as he made his own leap out the back. Leaping from the second story wasn't the ideal escape plan but there wasn't many options left. Voidwalker landed awkwardly and started to fall, but instead of falling flat on his face he tucked his upper half of his body inward to roll instead of loosing momentum, he rolled off of his shoulder and was right back up running in the same motion. Just as quick as it happened it was over and he was racing down the alley behind Garn. Garn was a few steps ahead but Draven was still keeping up with him even despite the awkward landing. The sun was bright in the evening sky and shining right in their vision. Draven didn't need to see as long as he could sense Garn's dark signature in the Force. A few feet ahead Garn came to a stop just before the end of the alleyway. Garn peaked around the corner for a few moments before turning back to Voidwalker and saying "Alright let's go, to the spaceport, quickly. I've a freighter in my private dock, loaded up with artifacts bound for Korriban. I suppose you'll be helping me smuggle them after all!" Garn let out a laugh as he and Draven both headed out of the alley and into the crowds of people on the streets. With all the commotion from the police swarming the brothel, the pair of Dark Siders had no problem blending in with the crowd and getting away. The two started making their way through the merchants quarter headed for the Spaceport at the end of the quarter. The two didn't say much of anything while making their way toward the spaceport. Not trying to draw attention to themselves they quickly and quietly made there way through the merchant quarter, ignoring both pedestrians and merchants as they called out to all who passed by. One 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. Now on this day unbeknownst to many a Sith had entered the city, and would escape along with a Dark Jedi. Once the pair had reached the spaceport Voidwalker turned to Garn and whispered "Let's get to your ship and get out of here as quickly as possible, before the authorities put the entire city on lockdown." The spaceport was a drab grey inside as it was out, nothing much to look at, yet it stood out compared to the rest of the capital city. The port was over crowded with being of all different species coming and going, on the ever move. Making their way through the crowd a Zabrak had run into Draven and without even stopping continued oh his way. The Sith started to feel the flame of the dark side come to life with in him, but he had caught a look from Garn and had instantly been reminded that they were on a time frame. Letting the situation go he followed back into step following the Dark Jedi down to the private hanger where his shuttle was waiting. They made their way down to Docking Bay 66 and there sat the YT-1930 Freighter. The closer they got to the freighter the stronger the pull of the dark side was, these must have been some powerful artifacts indeed to have such a pull. The pair approached the back dock of the ship and made their way up the ramp. Garn would knock on the door, Draven was just hoping to get to Korriban as soon as possible, he had a bigger agenda. TAG: Darth Dreadwar kurtishenschel |
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133 
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Oct 1, 2017 21:22:19 GMT -5
IC: Alisha TanoLocation: The Pius Dea Cathedral ship, Odesson's atmosphere Watching Isis soar off into the vacuum should have been a satisfying visual… however, as Alisha glared skyward, she only felt cheated once again. I wanted to cleave that monster in half, and the hyperspace tunnel took it. I wanted that High Shaman head on a pike, and space has claimed her too… She bared her teeth in frustration, and remained where she stood watching the shield above. A sound to her left, coupled with a mental “knock”, tore her eyes away from the reddened shine above, to a set of familiar red armor. Alisha could only stand there stupefied, opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to speak. Xal’den stood battered, with a trail of drying blood running across his cheek and a hand pressed against his stomach… but he was still alive. “Ding dong… the witch is dead.” He managed a brief grin at her stunned expression, and Alisha all but ran into his arms. “You’re okay…” Alisha weakly managed, taking hold of his face in her hands. “I thought I lost you!” Xal’den wordlessly pressed his forehead against hers with unshed tears in his eyes. Everything he wanted to say, fear for her, anger at the now-dead cultists and the sheer relief at seeing her standing, was delivered through their re-opened Bond. The flood of emotion completely overtook the strange anger that saw Alisha through the battle, not that she was complaining. TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Shira
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Shira
Administrator 
.: Empress' Hand
Posts: 135
Likes: 114
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Post by Shira on Oct 1, 2017 21:40:40 GMT -5
COMBO WITH Padawan4687
IC: Shira A’dola and Alisha Tano
Dining Hall of the Pius Dea Cathedral Ship, orbiting Odessen
Hard, slate eyes watched as the ebony form of the once-renowned Jedi Grand Master floated gently away, as if carried by the Force itself, outside of the re-established energy shield. What a shame, Shira thought coldly, that the Path to Victory did not end with my blade through her throat. She relinquished her hold on the Force and, as the battle-energy dissipated into the æther, she collapsed against the wall and slid weakly to the floor. A slender hand passed across eyes suddenly alabaster in her exhaustion. She had not possessed the energy for her Darksight to begin with, not after the attack from that demon on The Triumphant and the horrific nightmares that had consequently followed. The energy required to channel such power was monumental and it robbed the last remnants of vitality Shira still retained. "Shira!" Now that most of the anger was out of her system, Alisha gasped out loud once she could detect the weakened remains of her Mentor's Bond. She ran over to the fallen Vraeling and gently lifted her head and shoulders into her lap. "Don't you dare die on me now... I'm here!" Alisha's voice sank into a heavy sigh by the time Xal'den reached the two.
"Hold on..." Xal crouched down, wincing, and quickly noted the faint glimmer of strength beneath Shira's skin.. He leaned back against the same wall with a sigh of his own. "It's okay, she's just exhausted... I think I'd like to lie down too, before anything else happens."
Alisha held Shira just a little closer, managing a halfhearted smile with relief. 'Just exhausted' was far better than 'dead'... though she couldn't be sure if it was just exertion from using the Force or not getting any sleep beforehand. "And now something else will happen, just you watch... cultist zombies will stand up and attack.""Zombies?" Xal'den snorted in response, but winced again before he could let out a laugh proper. "Ow! Ow, laughing hurts..."Shira leaned her head gratefully on Alisha’s shoulder, lips twitching faintly in a smile. “No, I’m not dead.” Her voice was faint and breathless, as weak as the physical toll to her body. The events of the past hour rushed back to her and she pulled her student around in a feeble attempt at a fierce and protective embrace. “Force above, Alisha, I thought I was going to lose you.”Alisha shakily returned the embrace, starting to realize what happened the past few hours. She was beginning to feel the latest physical exertion herself, on top of her burned cheek and already-set fatigue. "I thought... I thought I was done for too..." Alisha admitted, biting on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to keep some composure. " I didn't want either of you to see it... or feel it."Shira tapped her burned cheek lightly, both infusing it with as much Force Healing as she could muster and using the jarring pain to focus her student. “Well you weren’t, you aren’t and nor will you be. Although,” Her expression darkened again, expression dangerous. “I wouldn’t have minded the danger to have extended long enough for me to ignite my lightsaber through that witch’s empty chest.”
“Eh? All I wanted was that woman's head on a pike... space stole it from me." Alisha let her expression flatten, letting her composure reform as she took hold of Shira's hand. "And you need to conserve your strength! I'll be fine, I can get a bacta patch later."Shira smiled at her student and shook her head gently to rid herself of the dark thoughts, but only succeeded in making her head swim. Placing a hand on Alisha’s shoulder to brace herself, she stood up precariously, trying to mask the way her legs wavered under her weight. “We need to get things organized. I need Tatsu down here, I need someone to inspect this gods-blasted ship, I need to organize a planet-wide broadcast, I - “ Her rambling was cut short as her legs gave out once more, the Vraeling woman letting out an exasperated curse as her knees hit the deck painfully. She began swearing colourfully in her native Silmarin, breathless voice betraying the exhaustion masked behind her forceful expletives. Alisha practically hovered from the ground as Shira tried to stand up, and remained sitting with extended arms. "Ah, Mentor... standing might not be such a good-!" She wasn't able to finish her sentence before Shira dropped back down to her knees. "...idea?" Xal'den finished for her, pulling himself up against the wall. He glanced at Alisha during the rush of foreign-sounding... curses, most likely, before turning back to Shira. "Ah... My Hand, I think you really need to rest before anything else listed," he observed, running a hand through his hair. "Collapsing in a dead faint can't bode well."Shira’s face twitched with irritation and impatience. “There’s too much to be done for me to be incapacitated. Alisha, please page Jaye. I’m giving him command of this ship. I also want a group of Force users here with him to investigate the ship. We need to know it’s safe. Xal’den, please organize a broadcast. Those pyramids could be here at any moment. Anyone willing to come with us may do so. I can’t, in good conscious, leave them to die and they may hold valuable information about the Outer Regions we can use. Have them bring as much food and supplies as they can. Fresh food aboard the fleet will do everyone some good. See if you can salvage materials for repairs to the fleet, as well. Also...” Her face fell, surveying the loss of life around them. She was quiet for a few moments, saying a quiet mental prayer in memory of the casualties. “Make sure everyone here is properly taken care of. On both sides.”Shifting again, she turned back to her student. “Help me up, Alisha. Ask Jaye to bring a few doses of stim with him so I can function. We need to get everything organized, and quickly. Xal’den, ask around and see if anyone knows of that planet Isis spoke of. Zakuul, I believe it was called. I want any and all information related to that world.”“…” Xal’den and Alisha exchanged a worried glance. Exactly how many stim injections had she used before they even arrived on Odessen? And how bad would the next "crash" be? It looked like their Hand was prepared to work herself to death right in front of them!
“Yes, my Hand.” Xal spoke first, pulling himself back up to stand with a grunt. “I’ll… see what I can find out for you.”“I can handle the rest, Shira.” Alisha waited until Xal’den was a few paces away before bringing her Mentor close again. Dealing with little sleep in general was one thing, but adrenaline crashes were another thing entirely. Through their bond, she could see the typhoon of chaotic thoughts and paths in her mind. She could also see the all-encompassing fatigue that was being held back, barely, by said typhoon… Alisha reached out to calm that storm, in both the Force and her gentle embrace. “Please, rest… You’ve done more than enough. It’s okay.”Shira returned the embrace for a long moment, but pulled away firmly. “I’ll be fine. I can’t expect everyone to work while I take a nap. Not to mention that broadcast needs to be done immediately so people can start to prepare. I’ll rest when we’re travelling again.”Alisha responded with a disbelieving look, refusing to let up her telekinetic pressure. "Sure you will. Before, or after you faint again when the stim wears off? And then while we're traveling, something else will happen." She looked at her Mentor with half-closed eyes, finishing with a wave of her hand, "And then I'll have no choice but to barricade you in your quarters!"
Shira wavered slightly on her feet, fighting the Force suggestion to sleep. She looked at the Togrutan woman slyly, lips twitching into a smirk. “Student, mine, I would love to see you try.”Alisha lowered both hands, but kept her focus on lightening the mental typhoon further. "Just let me do this for you. What, you think I can't handle it?"Dismay wiped away the smug expression. “Alisha, I...you know that’s not it. You know I don’t think that. It’s just...” She played with a loose tendril of golden hair, a certain vulnerability revealing itself in her uncertain features. She could not adequately express why she refused to sleep, but exhaustion had wiped away her impeccable mental shielding and Alisha would sense the tendrils of fear, remnants of nightmares, the effects of the recent horrors; doubts about her ability to lead and her need for her people to see her as the strong leader she so desired to be braided along anxieties and agitations. Alisha stood up, leaning against the wall for support and taking in every nuance of her Mentor's expression. Just as she suspected, there was plenty of reason behind this stubborn desire to stay awake... even at the cost of her physical and mental health. "You and I have led the remnants of an Empire for years now... it's not your burden to bear alone. Maybe that's why Empress Volshe put us both in charge." Alisha attempted a smile of her own, offering a hand to her Mentor. "You'd run yourself into a bacta tank by yourself."Now that she could see them, she devoted her attention to calming the fears that ran about in Shira's mind. The past few days were an ordeal in and of themselves, and now Alisha was determined to not only handle the latest work on her own, but also guard her Mentor. Shira rubbed her eyes with fingers trembling in fatigue and placed her other hand into Alisha’s proffered own. Her student was right, of course, but her gentle common sense warred with Shira’s fierce desire to stay awake and get things done. There were no more words that could be said between them, so Shira knew she could never make the choice to sleep voluntarily. As such, she merely pushed a wordless, mental request through the Bond and felt a strong surge of Force suggestion in return, urging her to sleep, the threads traveling through the hands they held. Shira managed a disjointed thought, wondering at how far Alisha’s mental powers had advanced before her eyes rolled up and she fell. Alisha caught her mentor easily, laying her gently on the floor of the Cathedral as the three waited quietly for help to arrive. TAG:Darth Dreadwar
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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 Oct 2, 2017 14:54:35 GMT -5
IC LemmyAboard the Durendal, stuck in spaceManiacal and uproarous laughter filled the corridors of the Durendal as Lemmy came out from behind the corner with the mirror tied around his forearm by a giggling tarp. “Take that ya space creeps!” he shouted while advancing on the warriors. He still could not see any presence of Kint other than his dark lightsaber. It didn’t really matter to him whether he caught Kint in the crossfire though. Allies though they were, Lem was certain that it would only be temporary in any case. Kint was a mercenary before anything else and if he deemed Lemmy of no further use, all ties were likely to be cut. Lem didn’t exactly have anything to hold over Kint’s head either. This was the best he could do. As the mirror swept over the red skinned warriors, Lemmy watched them distort, writhe in pain and fear, and disappear without a trace. Thought this thing was supposed to copy things, not make ‘em disappear. "That was absolutely brilliant Tarp!” he congratulated as the mirror was once again obscured by the folds of the fabric. “Ya did perfectly! Absolutely perfectly!” He turned to Kint, or rather the point where his blade had been glowing, lekku still quivering with amusement. “I s’pose ya did good yerself. Ya got what, two of em? I think Tarpy here deserves most of the praise though! He’s the one that held the mirror after all!” He began walking back to the Dauntless,completely ignoring Kint's warnings and threats while cradling Tarpy and the mirror in one arm, cannon trained in front of him with the other to fire on the next body he saw. “Mind of we stop and pick up a few things from my ship before we disembark for hostile territory?” He inquired behind him. “Unless yer gonna give me that fancy ‘saber I’m gonna need a beatstick of my own.” He wasn't worried about Kint attacking him. He had the mirror. If Kint hurt him he might drop it and lose them both a paycheck. TAG: Darth Dreadwar , gorzan
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Oct 2, 2017 22:01:18 GMT -5
IC: Lord Raspir Location: The Eternal Throne, Star Forge, Gunninga Gap Once the court magician of Adas roughly 28,000 years ago, Raspir was encased in a Rakatan Mind Trap until freed sometime between 5 and 50 ABY. It had certainly taken its toll. Raspir was always one to respect his King's or his Emperor's authority to the utmost extent. But this time, he forgot customs. Raspir was still in awe and amazement of the Eternal Throne and the great Gunninga Gap around them. But most of all, he was amazed by the Emperor himself. He knelt in front of his Emperor, but he felt like he was forgetting something. And indeed he was. The custom was to lie prostrate at the feet of the Emperor, and Edworion let him know. When next you are in my presence, you will observe the appropriate etiquette. Yes, my Lord Infinity. It will not happen again. He greeted the Shard Sith with, "Lord Hypnos, I perceive. I am pleased to see you could make it. Although I see no mirror, and as such, no need to reward you with my magnanimous beneficence." The Shard continued speaking in its binary that was entirely unknown to the ancient magician, yet Raspir was confident nothing good was said about him by the Shard. Why is the Shard still here? I did not come back to Zakuul for him to chat with the Infinite Emperor. I came back for him to be judged, charged, and executed by the Infinite Emperor. Perhaps I should speak with the Emperor, though he does know better than I. While I predate him by twenty millennia, he has had much more experience than I, as he was not locked in the Mind Trap for 27,000 years. That Mind Trap is always causing repercussions for me. I have to find a way to cast off what it did to me. It is the only way I can be the best Councillor possible, bring glory to Zakuul, glory to the Sith, and most of all glory to the Emperor! TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Darth Catalyst |
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Oct 2, 2017 22:04:14 GMT -5
IC: Robyn Shaire
Location: False Tomb of Naga SadowCute face? This girl, Jania, she really isn't subtle...and after Master Marcus, this is kriffing embarrassing. Robyn ignored the growing heat in her face, and slowed down with some hesitation. It took only a few slower paces for the Master-Apprentice duo to reach her, and she kept pace with them. "Are you trying to get yourself killed here?" she asked Jania with uncharacteristic harshness, as even as she offered telekinetic support for Coatlec's other side. "Putting yourself between Lady Viscretus and whatever she's angry at is a recipe for disaster!" Did she not realize the danger walking? Well, if she doesn't... she'll learn pretty quickly I'm sure. She walked along with a hand extended beneath her cloak and a stony expression, before relenting with a sigh. "... yes, Initiate Shaire is my formal title. You can call me Robyn." Her cold countenance dropped into alarm at Lord Xirr's outburst, ending with him slamming his helmeted head into the stone walls. He's been hearing voices the whole time? Maybe hounding Sith spirits... she betrayed her surprise with a single step back, which only increased when Jania clutched her head and started loudly muttering. Oh for the love of... is everyone in here going mad?! Or were these two mad before they got here like the rest?"HEY! Jania!" Robyn almost shouted, in an attempt to jar the girl's thoughts away, "Get a hold of yourself!" Seemed like both her words on top of Coatlec's did little if anything to chase the voices, so Robyn shook her head in resignation and forged ahead to rejoin the rest of the group. "How about we hurry before all of us start screaming at the empty air in front of us?" she commented with dripping sarcasm, "I enjoy my sanity, and would very much like to keep it relatively intact!"TAG: Darth Catalyst, dice, Volshe, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, @lordjania, Darth Dreadwar
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Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2017 23:03:48 GMT -5
(This is the repost don’t delete!!) IC: Jania Kio Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban “I’m not trying to get myself killed but I felt I was doing what was right at the moment. I really didn’t mean to cause any problems...” Jania would answer as she was thankful for the help she had received with her Master. Once he was walking under his own power again. Totally focusing on the girl now she half listened through the somewhat harsh lecture before hearing the girls name. Robyn Shaire huh? Nice name.. plus she’s cute so figure Jania would be thinking about post Tomb and hanging out with the pink girl. As their conversation ended and Robyn began to focus her attentions elsewhere Jania got a good look at the woman while trying to not be too obvious. Her skin was magnificent, her hair seemed perfect, something about this girl was making Jania feel all tingling inside and they had only just met. Hopefully she would get the chance to see if these feelings would bare fruit Jania would only briefly acknowledge the attempts at calming her down as she clutched her forehead. Was the Tomb getting darker for some reason? Was something like that even possible? Nonetheless she found the nearest wall to her Master and relaxed as she leaned upon it wishing for even the slightest sustenance as her stomach started to remind her of her mortality. Holding her stomach with her hand now she looked over to the others as they tried to figure out the puzzle that seemed to block their path. “Ughh what I wouldn’t do for some food right now! I haven’t ate since before I left Rishi yesterday...” she wasn’t expecting an answer so she simply dropped her head back to look at the floor between her legs. The voices hadn’t stopped their assault of their mind, but Jania’s ability to ward them off was weakening so she simply deciding to try and not to listen. “Kill them..... they have food.... I can tell your hungry..... kill them and take the food...” she would suck her teeth as she figured even the voices were getting desperate as to tell her an obvious lie. Pulling her head back up she rested it against the cold yet dusty tomb wall as she figured they would be farther along with the puzzle. “Y’all almost done yet? Playing follow the leader to get out of here really is sounding like a fun game right now. Let’s please get back to it.” TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, dice, Padawan4687, Shira |
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Oct 3, 2017 20:49:37 GMT -5
IC: Darth XirrTunnels beneath Sadow's Tomb. Xirr's episode had subsided, but not before thoroughly shaking the other members of the party. They seemed to hear....or see?... something as well. Xirr noted. He followed after Catalyst and Viscretus, neither of whom had seemed to acknowledge the outburst. Xirr hadn't heard Catalyst's quip due to the ringing in his mind caused by the impact of his helmet with the rough, porous stone that lined the walls of the suffocatingly dark passage, Though he was able to make out Appolyon's then Coatlec's just enough to formulate a response. "D...Don't say that... word again," Appolyon stuttered, "I-I'm afraid I don't follow you, Mi'lady. What happened?" Xirr replied, thoroughly confused. Then Coatlec spoke. Seemingly...concerned? "Xirr, what's going on? What's in your head? This tomb has done a number on us all." Coatlec questioned. Xirr continued down the hallway, boots making a steady beat upon the floor, his footsteps echoed back the way they came, and onward into the black that the sith currently had no insight into. He stopped, looking back to Coatlec, Xirr responded he spoke quietly, so that only those in his area could hear. I would never hear the end of it were Catalyst to catch what I am soon to say, Xirr thought."Voices. Th-they whisper to me inside my mind, sometimes they help... others, they instigate. They taste the slightest fear, and they latch onto it like leeches of the mind. Malicious, unfeeling, They prod at my very soul. It simply became too much. My apologies, Lord Coatlec." Xirr paused "Onward, Shall we?" Xirr pointed his attention towards the now vaguely visible Spider Room. Then Xirr entered the room to a chorus of bickering voices and an Appolyon monologue. Xirr was once again in the same situation as Catalyst, more the agile warrior than the silent scholar, he was once again unable to contribute to the forward progress of the group. "Lord Catalyst. I am well versed in the tongue of the ancient Sith. It says, 'Summon He who causes them to tremble and throb to gain my path.' What do you think that could mean?" Summon he who causes them to tremble and throb to gain my path? What in the 9 hells? Xirr shook his head. Damned ancient sith and their riddles. Kark!
TAG: Darth Dreadwar,Volshe,Shira,Darth Catalyst,Padawan4687, @lordjania, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Oct 4, 2017 2:19:57 GMT -5
GM UPDATE COMBO WITH CO-GM VOLSHE
The 13th Name - Theme IC: Darth Apollyon and Darth ViscretusThe Spider Room, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanPitiful. Pitiful, the lot of them. Robyn was only just now entering the chamber, having taken her sweet time walking down the passageway, and Apollyon could feel Jania fawning over the teenaged Initiate, following like a lost puppy. That was unfortunate; Robyn belonged more in a Jedi Academy than a Sith Temple, and Apollyon feared the neophyte who had imprinted on her would be led astray by the Half-Zeltron's weaknesses if not by her pheromones. "No Jania," Apollyon sighed, entirely ignoring Catalyst snatching his helmet back from her and his absurd suggestion to pick a door at random, "we are not all done yet." Her black eyes glittered like chiselled orbs of onyx, gleaming in the darkness as she glowered at Catalyst. "No thanks to you," she spat more venomously than she intended, "whose first rash suggestion would have blinded me permanently, if it weren't for the little machines in Coatlec's blood." She rounded on Xirr, her lappets of black leather flapping around her caramel thighs. "No thanks to you, who seems to have knocked the ability to problem-solve out of his head!" She whirled again, fixating first on the twins Kevala and Scionica, then on Robyn and Jania Kio. "No thanks to you two mutes, who had best begin proving your worth around here before I decide assassins are too dangerous to leave skulking about, no thanks to you Initiate, whose skin is hopefully pink from embarrassment at your lack of contribution, and no thanks to you, too busy fa--" Apollyon abruptly stopped a burgeoning rant, sighing more deeply as she ran a hand across her forehead, which was starting to shine with sweat in the torchlight. "Forgive me," she whispered, her hand dropping to her side passively. It's this damned tomb again. It's magnifying every negative emotion, making me lash out... Ordinarily I would embrace it, but there is such a thing as a flame that is too hot to forge a blade, night too dark for even a shadow thief to exploit. "This... This dark side nexus is making it difficult to think straight. Yes, peace is a lie, there is only passion, but without reason there is no you to chase those passions, either." Apollyon turned away from the Sith she had just scolded, glancing at Viscretus to see if her studious friend, eyes flicking to and fro, had any further insight. " Coatlec's translation is mostly correct, I think," Apollyon said after a beat. "Summon He-who-causes-them-to-throb-and-tremble-in-fear to gain my hidden path." She frowned, glancing between Viscretus and the markings above the doors. "But I can read that easily, because the letters are High Galactic. I do not know how to decipher this eldritch script," she pointed towards the barbed glyphs above each of the thirteen passageways. "Kittât," Viscretus replied, without so much as acknowledging the rest of them. She had taken a moment to scour the painted eyes and carved patterns, but nothing else had presented itself. "They are names. The Jen'jidai." Her footsteps clicked along the ground as she tracked back to the original door. "Tulak Hord." Then the others, she circled around, one by one, her mouth moving silently before each - verifying the names. "Broodika, Ortan Cela, Ergast, Marshal, Vacuus, Ajunta Pall, XoXaan, Karness Muur, Sorzus Syn, Remulus Dreypa..." She paused. "... Vahl... and Ku'ar Danar."
And then, she was facing Apollyon, her eyes swimming with runes, awash with the glow and fire. "What say you?" The dark pits of Apollyon's eyes widened in recognition. "Ah, I get it." She turned to look at the rest of the team briefly, her prior surge of unbidden anger forgotten as she explained Viscretus' translation, pointing again at the runes. "Seven thousand years ago, the galaxy trembled in a hundred years of darkness," Apollyon intoned, reverent in recognition of the ancient history. "From the Great Schism of the Jedi Knights were born the Heresiarchs, the Dark Jedi, of whom twelve, twelve survivors were exiled to Korriban, where they founded our Order." She smiled, glancing at Viscretus. "I do not recognise names such as Marshal, Vahl... Mistranslations, perhaps, or merely Dark Jedi lost to history. But I recognise enough to concur with your judgment; these names represent the twelve founders, the twelve exiles known as the Jen'jidai."
Apollyon paused, a thought occurring, her lips creasing in a frown. She was the Emperor's Hand, and she often retrieved tomes and grimoires for him from the library; she was not quite the scientific sophist Viscretus was, but she was enough of a scholar to recognise something didn't add up. "But there were only twelve Dark Jedi," Apollyon whispered, a harsh susurrus loud enough for the team to hear, as she counted the number of tunnels in her head. "Why are there... thirteen names?" Viscretus laughed, a soft laugh that was meant in amity. "Perhaps it is a trick," Viscretus said, "or perhaps it is as you have already thought. Lost to history, indeed..." It grew curiouser by the moment. For a time, edging on a century, she had served the splinter sect of Ember upon Serenno, led them through trials in search of Vahl and their true homeworld - learned amongst them powerful Sith sorcery and the way of the Darkness. She had claimed her mantle from them, bearing the legacy title of Viscretus as she went forth. A daughter of Vahl, chosen to lead the cult back to power and prosperity. Given preternatural sight and arcane skill. Viscretus did not imagine she would see such here, carved upon the walls of a Valley tomb, branded into stones millennia old. A powerful lady of Darkness, Vahl had been, but no Heresiarch. No importance did she bear to the Sith. "Though perhaps a mistake, I must agree. For some of these are not possibly in keeping with the history..." She trailed off into a vacant gaze, now pondering that as well as the original puzzle they faced. Who amongst them carried the name of chirikyât? None that she was enlightened to. None that she could find any resemblance to. They were all Sith, all powerful beyond measure. All capable of such feat. "One of them must be our key. Let us hope it is not one of those who has been forgotten." "Chirikyât, chirikyât," Apollyon murmured, repeating the ancient Sith word. "The one who causes them," the swept a caramel hand towards the names, "to throb and tremble in fear...? Perhaps... their leader? Ajunta Pall? He was the first Dark Lord, to the best of my knowledge. Leader of the fallen Jedi exiled to Korriban." "Ajunta Pall..." Viscretus' voice shifted, deepening and warping into a growing silence, flickering memories of an icy Serenno before her - melting into the cold stone of the Sith temple. Her reflection, swathed in deep red, the ink bleeding off the page before her... All bathed in Darkness.
"Except, of course, the Heresiarchs who founded the very Sith Order," Darth Dreadwar was hissing in his sepulchral whisper, pacing around her, "in their exile from the Jedi Order they sought to redeem, and set to the cause of conquering death. Of course, the Schism they wrought was prompted not by Ajunta Pall; he merely inherited leadership of the surviving pioneers." He stopped after a half-circle, turning with a swishing of dark robes to face her. "Tell me, in all of your perusing of the tomes and holocrons, did you come upon the name... Ku'ar Danar?"
"Ku'ar Danar?" Viscretus' voice melted into accented velvet, and her eyes scanned the vacant darkness before her. "Indeed, a name without history, in its scarcity. Grand enough to be recalled, though never enough to be venerated. Lost to time as countless others."
"His name was not lost to Sli'hon Tahar," Dreadwar countered. "A great Jedi historian studying under the auspices of Kreia. He believed Ku'ar Danar had orchestrated the Hundred-Year Darkness, which would have made him, quite impossibly, a Sith Lord who predated the founding of the Sith Order some seven thousand years ago. More impossibly still, he believed Danar had tutored Naga Sadow, who reigned two thousand years later." The Dread-king laughed, a horrid hissing thing of seething ridicule. "Clearly Sli'hon Tahar was confused about his dates. As confused as one of the predecessors in your line, an Inquisitor of the Cold War by family name of Kallig, who claimed her Dashade companion had been buried in Sadow's tomb by Tulak Hord... Sadow's predecessor by centuries."
It was as the Emperor had said earlier, in his hissing lecture. His voice clawing to the surface of her conscious mind, urging her to take heed. "Or not," she continued, at last. Her words were slow, lethargic, yet analytical. She herself had become of much expression. "I have been told of Ku'ar Danar, and I would believe strongly he in fact would claim such titles as the First." "Ku'ar Danar?" Apollyon's tongue twisted around each unfamiliar syllable, letting the two dread words seep forth into the dry, stale air of the tomb. She shivered without meaning to, fine silver hairs raising on end down her brazen arms. "I have not heard of such a name, not even in my master's lessons," her frown deepened, as she shook off the strange chill. "Certainly not among the ranks of the Exiles. But you are the historian, so I shall take your word for it."
Apollyon seemed ready to query the team to gain their assent, before a memory returned to her, as well. "Wait... No. I have heard of it, come to think of it. Only once, long ago. The Emperor has often attempted to teach me history, although he tended to skip over the Hundred-Year Darkness. But I recall him naming a Sith called Danar, apparently the namesake of his own title Dan'ari..." She turned to the rest of the team briefly. "Ancient Sith for Dread Lord," she explained, before turning to the passageway above which were written the glyphs that bore Danar's name. "The namesake of such a title as 'Dread Lord,' and now you say he was the first leader of these Heresiarchs?" Apollyon shrugged, considering. "Well, you are the greater historian as I said. He-who-causes-them-to-throb-and-tremble-in-fear... Hmm... It fits."
"Well, team," Apollyon raised her voice slightly, "I suppose we are meant to walk through that doorway," Apollyon pointed at the passage ahead, above which Danar's name was inscribed, "to gain Sadow's hidden path. Sounds as good a plan as any." She smiled at Viscretus. "Thank you, my friend," and she remembered just in time, turning to Nihl's bastard, "and thank you, Lord Coatlec."
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Oct 4, 2017 22:11:04 GMT -5
IC: Darth CoatlecLocation: Catacombs, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban Before Coatlec's recitation of the translation, there were some more strange, albeit less strange exchanges. The two Initiates seemed to be hitting it off. Jania was quite ready to leave the tomb. "Y'all almost done yet? Playing follow the leader to get out of here really is sounding like a fun game right now. Let's please get back to it," she said. Xirr responded to Coatlec's concerned inquiry by saying discreetly, "Voices. They whisper to me inside my mind, sometimes they help...others they instigate. They taste the slightest fear, and they latch onto it like leeches of the mind. Malicious, unfeeling, they prod at my very soul. It simply became too much. My apologies, Lord Coatlec. Onward, shall we?" Coatlec simply responded before coming to Viscretus, Catalyst, and Apollyon, "Yes indeed. Onward." My my. These people need help. This tomb has done far too much. It's hard to center myself here. After Coatlec's translation, Apollyon started ranting about everyone's lack of contributions to the team. Everyone except Viscretus and Coatlec. But then she backed off. "Forgive me," she said. "This...this Dark Side nexus is making it difficult to think straight. Yes, peace is a lie, there is only passion, but without reason there is no you to chase those passions either." No kidding there. Imagine how difficult it is to center oneself in a Dark Side nexus. Kreia didn't even attempt it 4000 years ago when Meetra Surik and her disciples walked through the abandoned Sith Homeworld. She knew she would fall to the Darkness even by stepping foot on the planet. Focus then shifted back to the task at hand. Solving this puzzle. "Coatlec's translation is mostly correct, I think," Apollyon said. "Summon He who causes them to tremble and throb to gain my hidden path..." I have no idea. This is...odd, to say the least. " Kittât, They are names. The Jen'jidai. Tulak Hord, Broodika, Ortan Cela, Ergast, Marshal, Vacuus, Ajunta Pall, XoXaan, Karness Muur, Sorzus Syn, Remulus Dreypa...Vahl, and Ku'ar Danar." Marshal? Vahl? Who? I've never heard of these two. Ku'ar Danar I've heard of in passing. Quite strange indeed. The two spoke some more. There were 12 Dark Jedi exiles according to the history, yet there were thirteen names. Perhaps the history was wrong. " Chirikyât, chirikyât, the one who causes them...to throb and tremble in fear...? Perhaps...their leader? Ajunta Pall? He was the first Dark Lord, to the best of my knowledge. Leader of the fallen Jedi exiled to Korriban," said Apollyon. Coatlec chimed in, "My Lady, it can't be Ajunta Pall. The traitorous Revan 'redeemed' him to the Light in his own tomb. He can't be summoned today. It must be someone else." Viscretus said, "Ajunta Pall...or not. I have been told of Ku'ar Danar, and I would believe strongly he in fact would claim such titles as the First." Apollyon went back and forth for a time before saying "...But I recall him naming a Sith called Danar, apparently the namesake of his own title Dan'ari ...Ancient Sith for Dread Lord....He who causes them to throb and tremble in fear...hmm...it fits. Well, team, I suppose we are meant to walk through that doorway to gain Sadow's hidden path. Sounds as good a plan as any. Thank you, my friend and thank you, Lord Coatlec." "It's always a pleasure, Lady Apollyon," he replied kindly. Quite the conundrum this puzzle is. I quite hope we aren't down here for much longer. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to center myself. It's quite difficult to do in a Dark Side nexus such as this. Chaos, yet balance. But even stranger the names of these Heresiarchs, these Jen'jidai. I've never heard of Marshal or Vahl. Ku'ar Danar only in passing. But there's something more there. Danar...Dan'ari...Dreadwar...Dread Lord...what if? Oh my. I have it! They have to be one and the same. I have to tell the group. But not yet. TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Volshe , Darth Catalyst , dice , @lordjania , Padawan4687 , Shira
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Post by Deleted on Oct 4, 2017 23:53:02 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban Ignoring the comments about being helpless, Jania would try her best to rest but to no avail. She figured it would be pointless seeing as the puzzle was slowly coming to its answer. That still didn’t stifle the surprise when she saw them actually solve the puzzle and decide the path they should take. She didn’t really understand much of it but with her head aching more and voices plaguing her at a whisper at their quietest, Jania didn’t quite care to even understand the puzzle. Standing up and stretching her now tight muscle she walked over to her Master and Apollyon before wondering when they would start walking again. “So Master now that you’ve solved this or at least with help can we please get going. The voices.. they are closing in on me and I can’t stop them.” She would explain as she shook her head and tried her best to fully hush the voices. Jania would then walk up to the path chosen and look down it as she figured getting closer to it would jumpstart the rest of the group into being ready to get moving. “So no time like the present y’all? Should be we get going? I mean of course you’ll be the ones leading.. it’d be a little crazy for me to be the lead right?” She spoke sarcastically as she took the step back once more. Darkness surrounded the path.. well it surrounded everything but hopefully narrowing it down to certain areas could make it feel like the plague in her mind was weakening instead of growing. She wouldn’t last another 30 minutes before it would feel like the voices would fully control her thoughts and maybe actions. Tag: Darth Dreadwar, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, dice, Volshe, Darth Catalyst, Shira, 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 Oct 6, 2017 18:10:48 GMT -5
IC Lord Catalyst Sadow's Tomb: Spider Room
Catalyst glared at Apollyon as she rebuked him. He had given his suggestion, misguided though it was, to the best of his knowledge and abilities. It’s not like he was going to be of any use in translating or solving riddles. Apollyon’s spiteful words soon turned on the rest of the party. Clearly now that she had her eyes back she was returning to her old thankless self. Then she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she said to all of them. This caught him by surprise. The Dark Side energy in the tomb was perhaps affecting them after all. He certainly felt more aggressive than normal. Part of that he could attribute to the constant bickering of Coatlec and Xirr combined with Apollyon’s own interjections. While he couldn’t feel the Force affecting his mood, he could feel a distinct frustration with the puzzles and riddles of the tomb. He felt his attention drawn elsewhere while Coatlec and Apollyon proceeded to translate the ancient writings and go on a historical ramble about the First Sith. Summon the one who causes them to throb and tremble in fear. Catalyst rolled his eyes with a snicker. Almost certainly ancient phallic humor. The scholars seemed to come to a different conclusion, mentioning Kuar Danar and his connection to the title Darth. But weren’t many of the Lords of old called by their given names even after they ascended? He decided not to question it. This wasn’t his department. His mind wandered. He thought about what would happen if he and Xirr got into a fight. He would have to kill Xirr before the other man could manage a strike. He wondered how he would fare against Coatlec as well. The mind trickery would be an obstacle but Catalyst was easily the more agile and cunning warrior. The mental battle would be of greater entertainment to him in both instances though. Outwitting them and turning their own words against them would provide far more satisfaction than a clash of sabers and Force powers ever could.
When he returned from his imaginary arena, Coatlec and Apollyon had chosen the path apparently labeled for Danar. He followed as Coatlec and Jania whispered hushed words to each other. Chiding her for her apparent loss of control earlier hopefully. Or perhaps praising her for standing up to Viscretus on his behalf. Catalyst was simply surprised she wasn’t dead yet. He stepped wordlessly towards the hall, still fiddling with his saberstaff hilt. There was nothing of value for him to contribute, and no call for his signature wit. So he watched quietly. A mild curiosity filled him concerning what lay behind the other doors and he thought about bringing that up, but clearly his suggestion earlier had been met with disapproval. Even trying to bring it up more rationally would almost certainly end with more criticism. So he would go down the path that they chose. His mind was not on the puzzle, nor was it even in the tomb. His thoughts migrated to the great eye he had seen twice now. Typhojem. He knew the name, Xirr had uttered had summoned the vision earlier. What was its significance? This and the girl, Elara. They were connected somehow. He pondered silently as the events around him unfolded without his interruption. Perhaps there were larger things in the galaxy at play here. Maybe this prophecy of Ragnarokr had some significance to it after all.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar ,Padawan4687 ,Shira ,Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror ,@lordjania ,dice ,
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Oct 6, 2017 20:27:51 GMT -5
IC: SallacineLocked refresher stall, Senate Dome of the Federation Triumvirate Galactica, Coruscant
We are in danger. The agents have captured Rand. Colu Eriodan was gesticulating so frantically it was difficult for Sallacine to follow his signing. They will be coming for us next. We need to get off-planet before then.So it is Valkyrie, Sallacine thought grimly, thoughts whirling a mile a minute in the enclosed space of the starmist-scented robes draped over them both. If the Valkyrie probe had caught up to them, Colu spoke - or signed - truly. They had a very limited time window before the rather extrajudicial unit of anti- Volshist agents of Operation Valkyrie descended upon their heads and whisked them away to some cell in Raxulon without due process. Or at least, that's what Sallacine thought before the robes they were using as cover were slipped from their heads by Colu's own hand as the sound of footfalls grew louder, allowing him to see the sheet of flimsi pushed under the door of the fresher stall. R6. As the boots walked away, Sallacine dared not exit the stall; he doubted the one who gave them the message would be anything more than a courier, probably a human-replica droid with a basic set of instructions and timed to self-destruct once it found an appropriately private location, going by the sorts of tales his espionage advisors told him back home. The interpretation was obvious. R6. 5,000 by 5,000 lightyears, part of Greater Tion, containing the Belderone, Vorzyd, Meridian, Spadja and Thanium sectors, brushing the Cronese Mandate Rimward. They were meant to go there...? All Sallacine could think of was his knowledge of game theory, acquired from the infamous Sayings, didactic and gnomic precepts of the 54th Atrisian Emperor, Uueg Tching, that were commonly revered and studied by Imperials, if only in imitation of Palpatine's fondness for them. In game theory, a focal point was a solution that people would tend to use in the absence of communication, because it seemed natural, special, or relevant to them. The astrographical R6 provided no focal point; not even a sector, let alone a planet, a city, a building, a meeting point. From a game theoretic perspective, if you were attempting to guide two men of the Federation Congress hiding in a fresher stall to a certain location, this would be an extraordinarily bad way of going about it. On the bright side, given that someone who didn't want to whisk them away to a secret holding facility (or just kill them) already knew where they were and what they were about... And indeed, seemed to be playing the cliche role of mysterious benefactor... Well, there was no need to take the extra-paranoid precautions of hiding under a robe and using sign language, not in this particular refresher, anyway, which was already relied upon by unscrupulous Senators for its lack of security cams and audio recorders. Besides, if Rand was captive, and they needed to flee anyway, there was little point to go to such efforts to keep their affiliations secret. Rand was no singing bird, but the best interrogators of the Triumvirate would break him. They always did. And so Sallacine voiced his suspicions freely while redressing. "This message provides no obvious rendezvous point," he whispered to Colu. "But it does provide a focal point that stands out to me. Not astrographically, but... Just this last week, I helped my son Hellios organise his class schedule at the University of Kamparas." Sallacine referred specifically to the Dolomar College, the Coruscant campus of the University of Kamparas located in the Senate District. "R6 was a period on his schedule, occupied by... History, I think... taught by... Professor something Kya. He'd be in class right now. Perhaps we are meant to go there first, but either way, we need to get out of this building fast."
In a dark room lit only by faint glows of cobalt and crimson, a humanoid figure in a charcoal suit addressed the flickering hologram. "It is done, my lord. He does not suspect." TAG: Volshe, possibly avaris
IC: Darth Blight, for the last timeThe Great Temple, Lower Valley, Korriban
 "We are not welcome here," Darth Blight whispered, as she stepped over the skeletal remains of a tomb robber, sprawled forlornly upon the cold stone of the Temple's hall, adorned with pitted armour and the tatters of a space suit. Distances and sizes were deceptive in the dark Temple's gloom. The enormous scale of the gothic architecture became apparent to her only after they had ascended the crumbling stair of the entrance, and passed broken pillars into the darkness of the Temple's vast entrance hall. The hall was composed of towering slabs of sand-coloured rock, piled steeply upon one another, hundreds of feet tall. Long flights of stairs climbed up each of the gargantuan walls, leading to shadowy entrances, platforms with ornate pillars, and lofty balconies. Strange formations of natural stone, reminiscent of gargoyles, jutted at odd angles above the honeycombs of what could only be crypts. Between walls and pillars were gargantuan statues of Dark Lords, proof of their enormous egos carved in stone. The statues stood like brooding sentinels or sat on towering thrones, gripping impossibly tall swords, seemingly ready to attack any intruder. Their sneering stone faces brooded high above Blight as she slowly picked her way past their gigantic feet. Every stone surface was engraved with the imagery and hieroglyphics of the ancient Sith. The Temple oppressed and overwhelmed Blight's senses, physical and clairvoyant. It was full of the energy of the dark side, carrying to her mind sepulchral whispers reminiscent of those that had plagued her when she had first heard the dark side's call. The call of Darth Dreadwar, summoning all manner of evil to his lair on Korriban, to set the foundations of a new Order. But these whispers said they wanted her dead, simply because she was alive and they were not. The Temple seemed to contain a vast multitude of unquiet spirits. Some were sleeping in stone, some were impotent echoes of shattered ghosts whose seeming had leaked like blood into the spectra of the Force, but others were perniciously conscious, brooding and waiting to consume the living with their undying hatred. Watching them, with invisible eyes. Her skin crawled, and she could not suppress a shudder. "We should turn back, Nihl," she said in a strange voice. But she found she could not. She looked down, and through the crimson lenses of her Yuuzhan Vong mask she saw her boots continue to pad forwards upon the tiled stone; it was as if she were no longer entirely in control of her own body, the call of the dark side so strong it was as the inexorable pull of a black hole. And if it were a black hole... Then they surely had crossed the event horizon the moment they had crossed the threshold of the Temple's entrance. In this place of eldritch geometry, it was as if every direction, backwards, forwards, sidewards, led to the heart of the dark side nexus. "We should turn back..." Her powerless whisper echoed throughout the hall, as Darth Nihl and Darth Blight continued into the darkness.
The Shadow Council
"We should turn back..." She sobbed, repeating the same words she had been repeating helplessly, again and again, for the past hour. Darth Nihl had fallen entirely mute, the pall of the dark side seeming to steal his voice from him, as the two Sith had continued into the labyrinthine depths of the ancient Temple. They had traversed the tunnels of passageways and crossed bridges over abyssal chasms, to pass large braziers of impossibly lit hot coals that beckoned them towards a large vault, where there awaited a tremendous, malevolent power. The Force was a cacophony of silent alarms, their senses screaming of a great danger as they crossed the threshold. Inside were two rows of thrones, thirteen in all, each holding a seated, mummified body, save for two curiously empty thrones at the end of the left row. The corpses sat stiffly, their empty eye sockets staring at eternity, their bony hands clutching armrests of gold that glittered in the glow of Blight's lightsaber. Their skinless grins spoke of some secret knowledge that defied death. Each one was dressed in a dusty black robe, betraying their identities as the dried remains of Sith Lords. Blight could sense no motion, no sounds, and no life inside. With extreme caution, she projected the eyes of the Force as far as she could. Nearby, she saw several skeletons, the remains of slaves who had been sealed in with their masters. "We should turn back," she whispered again, yet began walking further into the vault. She had barely walked ten paces when she heard a dry rasping sound behind them. With a scraping clatter, a dozen skeletons clambered to their feet. Blight cursed. These were tomb guardians, animated by Sith magic cast long ago. Immediately, the skeletons began to come after them, bony arms outstretched, trailing wisps of decayed cloth. Blight ran deeper into the darkness, stumbling and falling to the floor with a puff of dust. Scrambling and turning onto her back, Blight gathered her power and unleashed a writhing stream of Force Lightning at the nearest attacker. The cobalt energy was amazingly bright in the dark depths of the mausoleum, but the dark side electricity simply played harmlessly over the walking corpse. Snarling, Blight raised her lightsaber, its ambient glow shedding light on the rotting abomination pursuing her, only for it to chose that moment to sputter out, the power of the nexus interfering with the weapon's technology. Blight's groping hands fell upon the hilt of an ancient sword, dropped there by a slain and thankfully prone tomb robber. A skeleton hand and forearm were still attached to it. Casting away the bones, Blight took up the sword, stabbing towards the reanimated skeleton that descended towards her, catching it in the chest. The alchemically treated blade was still extremely sharp, but what use was it against the longdead walking? "We should turn back!" She screeched futilely at the ominously silent Nihl, as the ghoul's rotting teeth descended upon her throat. The grim rictus of the nearest enthroned mummy stretched invisibly in the darkness, as Nihl was left all alone with the dead. TAG: darthcoatlec, for the last time
IC: Garn Tarcrulus and Captain Jacen ThillyThe Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon"Aye, I think it goes without saying that we'd be using the floor panels," Jacen smirked, interlocking his hands behind his head as he contemplated Karina's suggestions. "But I love your ideas in general, Karina. If Garn can provide the distrac..." Jacen stopped short in a frown, removing his boots from the hologame table as the distinct metallic noise of dual footfalls reverberated up the boarding ramp. "I'm afraid I have the connections, but not the time, to hire pirates," the voice of Garn Tarcrulus, as the reedy brothel owner and secret Dark Jedi entered the main hold of the Artificer. "Boss man," Jacen saluted mockingly, his hand dropping from where it had been reaching on his belt, but his disquiet not entirely dispelled. What is Garn doing here? We already discussed the job."Captain Thilly," Garn nodded, pulling up short to stand uneasily at the edge of the seated crew's semicircle. A shadow fell upon the holotable, as the sun, streaming through the boarding hatch, was blotted out by the silhouette of a dark man following Garn. "I'm afraid there's been a change of plans," Garn continued, gesturing behind him. "This is Draven, ah... codename Voidwalker. The cargo has changed. Aside from the artifacts, you will be taking on two passengers, Voidwalker and myself, and smuggling us to Korriban likewise, for an additional 5,000 credits... and you will be leaving now, not tomorrow." Jacen Thilly said nothing. There was little he could say. Garn took his silence as acceptance, and in all fairness, it essentially was; there was little one could do to refuse transporting one's own employer. "Very good. Karina, was it? I overheard your gameplan from outside, and it is an admiral idea." Jacen elected not to point out that the word Garn was looking for was admirable. "But we must leave, pronto. We will have to think of another distraction to get by the Federation checkpoint." TAG: Darth Voidwalker kurtishenschel
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Oct 7, 2017 1:17:28 GMT -5
IC: Captain Munge'der'pumeiAdmiral Tharsus' Quarters, the Triumphant, orbiting Odessen
Victory & Respite
"Wake up." A blue hand jostled the arm of Shira A'dola. "Wake up, milady... Yes, she's coming around," its owner chuckled in the direction of Alisha Tano, before returning to peer down at the once-exhausted - and now hopefully rejuvenated - Hand of the abdicated Empress. It had been six hours since the arrival of the Triumphant in the Odessen system, five hours since Shira A'dola had been fairly literally put to sleep by Alisha Tano and their own triumphant conclusion to the conflict with the Ordu Aspectu, and Munge'der'pumei, better known by his core name Gederp, newly reassigned Chiss Captain of the Adjudicator, had gathered the leaders of the Imperial remnant in the quarters of the late Admiral Tharsus aboard the Triumphant, where their valiant leader had been transported for rest in light of the fact that her own quarters - and the Empress' Sword's - were currently undergoing repairs after being ruined in the skirmish.
Alisha Tano was there, Xal'den was there along with a new retinue of Imperial Knights including Azarius Qazoi, Tatsu, who some were already calling Grand Admiral in light of No's death, was there, surrounded by minor aides, although Jaye was not, having been assigned to the Pius Dea Cathedral Ship with another retinue of Imperial Knights, and of course the absence of the deceased Tharsus and Firmett were almost as stark as No's. We have suffered many losses, but the New Galactic Empire has won the day.
"Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Lady A'dola," Captain Gederp chuckled again, ceasing his jostling, not knowing how literally true his words were. He hoped her rest had gone some way to make up for chronic sleep deprivation over the past months of fleeing the pyramids, but Gederp knew nothing of Darksight, and so knew nothing of how Shira's sleep had been intruded upon by visions of a great, lidless, ever-watchful eye. Its baleful green banefire and abyssal, hourglass-shaped pupil were seared upon her retinas as she woke, but if the Great Left Eye had spoken, its words had either swiftly faded from her memory or been entirely beyond mortal comprehension, for there remained no memory other than the visual of its venomous flame and its unspeakably, cosmically vast aspect... and the deeply unsettling sense that it belonged to a dark titan who was somehow standing beneath the galaxy itself, straining to reach for its stars from the tartaric depths of Chaos.
It was the same eye Shira had seen flash in her mind as she had fought the abomination in her quarters. Unbeknownst to her, the same eye that made K'Kruhk flush with sweat as he attempted to meditate in the Room of a Thousand Fountains on Coruscant. The same eye that made Darth Dreadwar tremble like a twine of Umbaran shadowgrass caught in a storm.
But Captain Gederp would give the Hand no time to ponder on the Eye. He had roused Shira from sleep earlier than Alisha would probably have wanted because there was simply too much to do, too much that had already been done to report on, and an increasingly pressing urgency that they leave the system before the pyramids returned. "Apologies, my Hand, you have been asleep for five hours, and I'm afraid I can't wait to deliver sitrep any longer." Gederp immediately launched into his report, knowing he could repeat the details if Shira was still groggy, but suspecting that her sorcerer's ways would mean she would swiftly return to full alertness and not require such. "Jaye has thoroughly investigated the Ordu Aspectu ship, and we have searched our own databanks to provide an identification. We failed to do so... But an archaeologist aboard the Intrepid recognised it from his studies."
Gederp briefly activated a handheld holoprojector, displaying the rotating cobalt projection of a piece of parchment, on which was crudely drawn the profile of a many-spired structure. "A Pius Dea Cathedral Ship, milady," he said, returning it to his pocket. "Not seen in active service for an unfathomable... ah, what was it, Ensign? 11,000 years?" Gederp shook his head. "My species comes from what some jokingly call the Known Unknown Regions, but we are truly in uncharted space here... It's like looking millennia into the past. Either way, Jaye confirmed the cyanogen left no other survivors aboard the Cathedral Ship. Presumably, your 'Force' told the monks aboard this ship their compatriots had died, as they suddenly began attacking our Knights as they were being escorted back to their shuttles, but we were able to capture or kill all of them, and fortunately they had finished repairing the Triumphant's hyperdrive."Gederp permitted himself a smile, rare for his race. "Yes, all but the most aesthetic repairs have been performed at a truly... magical... speed, which I suppose was the point. We searched thoroughly for signs of sabotage, but found none; whatever else they were, the Ordu Aspectu were helpful in this area, and burials-at-space of the fallen on both sides have been completed."Gederp pulled free his holoprojector again, this time displaying a rapidly-scrolling list of names and data. "We have refuelled, replenished our supplies, and following a planetwide broadcast," Gederp nodded towards Xal'den, "accepted aboard roughly 900 inhabitants of Odessen, mostly villagers but also some 124 Force-users from, oh, too many sects to name." He consulted his list. "The Blazing Chain, the Matukai, the Zeison Sha, the Shado Varmiri, the Ember of Vahl... and so on and so forth. We weren't sure where to put them, and it'll take a long time to vet them properly. The Imperial Knights are stretched thin guarding them in the hangar bays, right now."The holoprojector returned to his pocket. "But... one of them was more than happy to answer our questions on Zakuul. Ensign, bring in the Pilgrim."One of the aides behind Tatsu departed, and returned, escorted by two Stormtroopers, with a bald human female dressed in simple azure robes, emblazoned with the symbol of a white dragon. "All hallow the Ari," the Pilgrim bowed towards Shira and Alisha.
Pilgrim of the Ari
"Yes, yes, welcome," Gederp replied. "My Hand, my Sword, this is a pilgrim we picked up, preaching to the villagers. She's part of an unknown religion that worships some god called the Ari." At that, the pilgrim interrupted, quietly. "Not some god," she said. "The only god. And He is not called the Ari. We merely call him Lord in His own hallowed tongue, for it is written we should not take His Infinite name in jest, folly or vain."Gederp sighed. "As you can see," Gederp continued, "she is quite the believer. Pilgrim, tell Ladies A'dola and Tano what you told me.""The world you seek," the Pilgrim smiled, "is a paradise. It is the crown of the Ari, and He made it in the shape of a ring to separate it from all the planets of the galaxy, that He created in His globular image." This time Gederp interrupted. "She says the Ari is a planet, the first planet apparently, a planet that moves around the universe blessing it with its children . But also he's a human, an Emperor, apparently." He shook his head. "Ignore these details, my ladies. Primitive creation myths."
If the pilgrim was offended by the Chiss' blunt demeanor, it did not display on her beatific countenance, as she calmly continued. "Zakuul is a world of resplendent glory, where no one need ever fear death. I have been only once, and have dedicated myself to spreading the word of the Infinite Emperor. Inviting the unfortunate, the downtrodden, the weary, to His heaven, where all sickness can be healed, where the disease of aging is cured, where no one wants for anything, for everything you can imagine is provided by the heavenly anvil of the Ari, a furnace that forges the stars themselves. I know the way well."
The pilgrim pointed out the viewport. "There. Do you see the red glow?" She was pointing to a a fuzzy patch of crimson suspended in an entirely starless section of space, close to the very periphery of the galaxy. "The Perann Nebula. It it the veil of the celestial temple that is the Nihil Retreat, protecting Zakuul and its stellar cluster from evil. At its heart is the Gunninga Gap, the great pit of Chaos whence the Ari came to bless us with His presence. And teetering on the brink of the abyss is Zakuul."
"We believe she refers to a black hole system," Gederp spoke up again. "Abnormal gravitational signatures mean we can't tell for sure with our long-range scans, but she has provided us coordinates, so one can only hope that, if Zakuul's a real place, it is protected from the pyramids like Xal'den told me that this Isis said."
TAG: Padawan4687 , Shira , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
IC: Emperor EdworionEternal Throne, Star Forge, Gunninga GapEdworion chuckled, placing his long hands, gloved in white satin, behind his voluminous cloak of fur-trimmed midnight blue. "You searched Iokath," he drawled mockingly at Hypnos, "when I directed you to Odessen. Perhaps that battle damaged your navigational circuitry." He smiled, a cruel quirk of the lip, but in lieu of torrents of lightning, magnanimous to the point of merciful. "No, Lord Hypnos, I think you decided you could acquire the Abominor without putting in the servomotor grease beforehand." Edworion ignored Raspir's telepathic apology. Raspir's lapse in decorum was utterly trivial, only of consequence if seen in public at one of Zakuul's grand rallies. But it was always best to instill fear in his servants. While it was optimal to be held in both adoration and dread, if a ruler was forced to choose between them, it was best to choose dread... as Darth Dreadwar, one of his fonder performances, well proved. As far as Edworion was concerned, Raspir could speak his mind if he wanted; not even as Dreadwar had he stooped to the folly of punishing competence and constructive criticism. But I will not coax him to speak; such timidity in his Emperor's presence may uphold the fragile ego of a tyrant but I am beyond such base foibles."But it is no matter," Edworion continued after a pregnant pause, his smile widening. "Selfishness is the way of the Sith, after all, and I shall not rescind my offer. No, not mechu deru mastery of the fleet as you may have thought, for they are beyond lesser controls. But, if you find my Mirror, command of the fleet as my foremost captain... and an even greater gift. An Abominor vessel for your crystalline mind, so that all may usher in the age of Darth Hypnos," Edworion raised his arms in vainglorious gesture, "shadow upon stars, destroyer of worlds, iron fist of the Infinite Emperor." TAG: Darth Catalyst , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
IC: TarpyThe Durendal , hangar bay of the Ninushodojinyaut , dead spaceHe said don't do something stupid, Tarpy thought to itself, faintly despairing as Lemmy proceeded to entirely ignore Kint's threat to drop the mirror. Furthermore, Lemmy seemed to be trying to point Kint's ire at the tarp itself, reminding the Masarian that technically it was the tarp, slung around Lemmy's blue arm, that held the mirror, not the old pirate himself. But then I wonder if he realises how vulnerable that leaves him, if I decide to side with my owner... As it was, the tarp could not let Lemmy simply turn his back, literally, on the dangerous Masarian. His actions could prod Dranlor to seize the opportunity to attack. "Whoa, whoa, there boys!" the tarp spoke up, exerting pressure on Lemmy's arm as it began to wind itself tighter, attempting to pull the Feeorin back from the hatch that led to the Dauntless. "Can we not argue about who has the mirror until we can, you know, remove those red-skins from the list of wannabe owners?" TAG: gorzan, Darth Catalyst
IC: Ermir MarcusSith Alchemy Classroom, dungeons of the Temple, KorribanIf Arcane was waiting for the Sith Master and debauched alchemist to begin, he would be waiting a long time. And wait a long time he did, the faint ticking of the wall chrono betraying the fact an entire minute had passed as nobody dared move a muscle or so much as cough. And then at last, Ermir Marcus broke his silence, his voice low and his hands pearly-white as they tightly gripped the edges of his armrests. "Have the lice that infect your ghastly fur," Ermir began, his yellow eyes affixed on Arcane and a vein violently pulsing in his forehead, "infected your mind also, and robbed you of sense, you puerile, slack-jawed, churlish, boil-brained ponce of a clotpole? By the Force, you are stupid! Stupid collapsed on itself so far that your neurons have evidently collapsed like neutrons. A mind denser than the Maw, deficient in all the qualities that lend themselves to mastery of Sith craft, and bearing the personality of this classroom's wallpaper, wrapped in decaying, maggot-ridden flesh, with unkempt fur betraying the hygiene of a Tuk'ata, and the asinine and benighted odor of undeserved self-importance." Ermir flicked his fingers, and Arcane's table collapsed, as if overburdened by the weight of the Initiate's feet. "Peace is a lie, there is only passion," at last the snarl Ermir was restraining began to distort his venomous countenance, "so tell me, you monstrously malformed ogre, do you think lazily reclining in your chair, using the same table Darth Wyyrlok himself sat at for his father's lessons as a footstool, conveys passion? A passion to learn the dark arts of Sith alchemy, arts that can place a stopper in death itself? To be Sith is to break your chains, but to be a Sith Master is to break the bones of disrespectful, malcontent, disobedient whelps!" Ermir stood, his own ranting propelling his anger to exponentially growing heights. "Is this classroom, a privilege the many, many hopefuls standing in the freezing cold outside this Temple's doors, dropping likes flies from thirst and starvation, desperate for admittance into this Academy, have literally died for... a joke to you, INITIATE?"
TAG: Arcane
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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 Oct 7, 2017 11:22:48 GMT -5
IC Lemmy Durendal, stuck in space
"Whoa, whoa, there boys!" Lemmy looked down at the tarp as it tugged him back. "Can we not argue about who has the mirror until we can, you know, remove those red-skins from the list of wannabe owners?" Lemmy grumbled a bit but stopped in his tracks.
“Ya realize it doesn’t matter who has the mirror until we actually part ways,” he muttered over his shoulder. “We’re still trapped here until we can disable those gravity wells. Now Kint,” he turned back to the hallway where he thought the Masarian was, “Yer uniquely armed and prepared fer whatever these ships can throw at ya, whether it’s a fancy toy, or yer space magic that yer probably thinkin’ to use on me as we speak. Now look at me. I got my cannon and my fists. I needed yer help against the fraggin’ Starweird. I’m just usin’ a tool to put me on yer level. When we’re done here an’ I don’t need it to keep up with ya then I’ll be more than happy to let it go.” He set his blaster cannon on the floor next to him and spit into his hand before holding it out to the empty looking hall in front of him. “Spacer’s promise. We’re both gettin’ outta this and I ain’t gonna be dead weight the entire time.” He stared down with a conviction that hadn’t been there for at least a century. He felt like a captain again. The sense of danger all around and a frantic adventure were what he needed to get his blood pumping again. He just hoped Kint would trust him long enough for them to make it out alive.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, gorzan
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Arcane
Citizen
Posts: 45
Likes: 30
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Post by Arcane on Oct 7, 2017 13:19:59 GMT -5
IC: Arcane Sith Alchemy Classroom, dungeons of the Temple, Korriban Arcane, now on the floor atop the rubble of what was once his desk, let out a small sigh and grumble as he stood. He brushed the splinters from his robes and shook the dust from his mane. He turned to the other students with a snarl before turning to Emir with his head bowed. "Forgive me, sir." He started to speak. "I am quite stupid. The most unintelligent of my species. Though I have passion, it was obscured by childish interests." He stood silent and still, his head still bowed. "I wish to continue my education. I wish to show more respect for my elders. I wish to overcome the light with darkness. I will again apologize for my childish behavior." The students still stared, some turned away with a quick glance when he snarled at them; but most looked to Emir for a response to the disobedient student. Arcane broke the silence again with his voice. "I will start cleaning this mess at once, sir." He knew what he had done was disrespectful, but he also knew that the small gesture would help get him noticed a bit more over the other students. Disrespecting the teacher on his first day would have the other students talking and so, the teachers listening and watching him closely. He was ready and willing to make sure he was noticed and thriving in this school. Ta: Darth Dreadwar |
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gorzan
Citizen
Posts: 93
Likes: 60
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Post by gorzan on Oct 7, 2017 18:52:46 GMT -5
IC: Kint Dranlor Location: space Kint shook his head. "It's less about me not trusting you, and more about the mirror itself. That mirror is something we know nothing about. Sure, it worked as a weapon just now. But last time it got used, it nearly killed me, freed a captive of mine, and rendered much of my gear useless. It could effect everything without our knowing. We don't know its limits, or its powers, and until we do, even I don't want to use it." He made his way behind Lemmy, and then reappeared. "You have to trust me here. This isn't something you want to carry around on your arm. Who knows, you accidentally face an air lock and suddenly all of us are being sucked into space. It is too unpredictable. I can give you some flexi armor if you need. Not as strong as what I'm wearing obviously, but it is a stretching, one size fits all, armored underlayer. This needs to be a stealth mission anyway. We don't want to draw their attention any more than we have to. Tags: Darth Catalyst Darth Dreadwar |
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Post by kurtishenschel on Oct 7, 2017 21:41:48 GMT -5
IC: Karina The Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon Karina looked the pair over as they walked up to the holotable trying to figure out why they were in such a rush. She sat back a little and crossed her arms as the captain and Garn spoke. Once finished she leaned back forward a little " so if we are leaving now what's the plan for getting past the checkpoint? And we don't have the distraction so that makes things more complicated than before." She looked voidwalker over noticing he was more silent than the companion so she wouldn't bother addressing him yet. She looked back to Garn since he was they reason they had to rush. " Getting past the checkpoint won't be a easy task and you know it so maybe you can offer some ideas on how to get you and your silent friend here to Korriban without getting caught or stopped." She looked to the captain knowing he wouldn't like her little outburst. " no disrespect captain but even if he's offering all these credits we need a plan. If we go in blind or clueless I doubt we'll go far." She uncrossed her arms and instead put them on the armrests to try and relax a little now that she spoke what was on her mind. Tags: Darth Dreadwar @voidwalker |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Oct 9, 2017 20:59:34 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker The Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon As Garn and Voidwalker made their way up the boarding ramp Voidwalker could make out the voice of both a man and a woman, obviously these must have been the connection that Garn had spoke of previously. As they entered into the main hold of the ship the man had been in the middle of a sentence when Garn cut him off "I'm afraid I have the connections, but not the time, to hire pirates". The other man that had been cut off didn't seemed to pleased that Garn and Voidwalker had showed up. The man replied "Boss man" and gave a mocking salute, one didn't need the Force to sense that this man was not thrilled at their presence. Since these were Garn's people Draven had decided to simply let him do the talking for now. If there was one thing Garn excelled at it was speaking to other. Though where that was a natural gift or if it came from years of dealing and doing business with Prostitutes Draven couldn't say, still Voidwalker did manage to out talk Garn to get here. Garn addressed the man getting right down to business. "Captain Thilly, I'm afraid there's been a change of plans, This is Draven, ah... codename Voidwalker. The cargo has changed. Aside from the artifacts, you will be taking on two passengers, Voidwalker and myself, and smuggling us to Korriban likewise, for an additional 5,000 credits... and you will be leaving now, not tomorrow." The man who had now been identified as Captain Thilly was silent. He didn't disagree or try to argue with Garn, which ultimately was a good thing for him and probably everyone else on board. Voidwalker was now on a ship and knew that one way or another he was leaving for Korriban tonight, if that meant fighting and slaughtering everyone on board then so be it. Ideally having an entire crew to operate the ship was much better and he knew that, but he also knew he wouldn't be stopped, there would be nothing that would stop him from getting his answers. Garn must have known that there would be no objection, for he just continued to speak. "Very good. Karina, was it? I overheard your gameplan from outside, and it is an admiral idea. But we must leave, pronto. We will have to think of another distraction to get by the Federation checkpoint." Finally the first person to speak after Garn and the Captain would be Karina, the slender woman with prosthetic legs and crossed arms leaned up to say "so if we are leaving now what's the plan for getting past the checkpoint? And we don't have the distraction so that makes things more complicated than before." She did have a valid point, the sudden rush and last minute addition of Garn and Voidwalker would make things more difficult it would seem. Before Draven even had a chance to speak he could feel the woman eyeing him up and down. The fact she nor the Captain had addressed him wasn't unsettling but curious. If these are Garn's people then why have they not asked about myself? Is it out of respect for the business they have with Garn or do they simply not care? What is that? The pull of the dark side, it is not simply coming from the artifacts but this woman. Who is she? Garn seems to either not know her or he hasn't noticed. Now this is more interesting. It had happened again, Draven had caught himself lost in his thoughts. This time perhaps it's a good thing, when he came to Karina was still talking. " Getting past the checkpoint won't be a easy task and you know it so maybe you can offer some ideas on how to get you and your silent friend here to Korriban without getting caught or stopped. No disrespect captain but even if he's offering all these credits we need a plan. If we go in blind or clueless I doubt we'll go far." After reiterating her case she sat back and seemed a bit more relaxed. Now it was time for Voidwalker to speak, he had stood by idly long enough. "Garn has a contact on Korriban who is expecting these artifacts, put Garn through to his contact and let him clear the way of the Sith armada. Even the Sith won't destroy their own artifacts and history. As far as getting past the republic fleet that could be a bit more tricky, but I have an idea that'll work...if you have a good pilot that is. We'll take off and heard for space then right before we break the atmosphere we'll jump to light speed before hitting open space. Between Garn and myself as well as the energy from these relics, we should be able to focus ourselves through the Force to guide you so that way we're not flying completely blind. Now do you trust your pilot?" Voidwalker knew the plan was a crazy one but he knew it would work or he would just take this ship and make his own way to Korriban. "If there's one thing I have learned throughout my life it is My chains are broken, The Force shall free me." TAG: Darth Dreadwar kurtishenschel |
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Oct 9, 2017 21:00:49 GMT -5
IC: Robyn Shaire
Location: The Spider Room, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban Robyn reached the latest room just a few paces behind the rest of the party, and it took some effort on her part not to scowl outright at Darth Apollyon’s darkness-fueled tirade. “Yes, Lady Apollyon,” she silently hissed with an eyeroll, “The only reason I’m pink isn’t because my mother and I are Zeltrons… it’s because I embarrassed you.” Oh please forgive me! She took a deep breath and began to pray for patience when Apollyon suddenly halted and apologized. She crossed both arms, and quietly huffed in response, marching ahead. Okay, explode at us and it’s fine, but if anybody else so much as breathes wrong, they explode? Robyn listened to the list of names, noting the few she recognized from her history classes with both the Jedi and the Sith Academy. She listened to everyone quietly, still not contributing. Apollyon could snap at her again, but... Robyn had nothing of value she could think of. Being quiet could save her from any embarrassment proper. Though it looked like elderly Coatlec, Viscretus and Apollyon were already hard at work at solving it themselves. These tombs are truly ridiculous... you already had this spot covered by a sea of acid, guarded by an eyeball stealing creature from Hell. she thought, running a hand across her forehead wearily, How many riddles and deadly puzzles can you squeeze in one place?TAG: Darth Catalyst , dice , Volshe , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , @lordjania , Darth Dreadwar
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