The Old Sith Trials

COMBO WITH Darth Dreadwar


IC: Shira A’dola
Admiral Tharsus' Quarters, The Triumphant, orbiting Odessen

“Wake up. Wake up, milady...”

A cool, gentle voice wove itself into Shira’s dream-state and she groaned internally. It couldn’t possibly be time to wake yet. She heard quiet voices and sighed, wincing at the migraine that accompanied her waking. Her eyes fluttered, body trying to force itself back to sleep. She firmly told herself no; there was work to be done.

“Yes, she’s coming around. Welcome back to the land of the living, Lady A'dola,"

Shira opened her eyes fully, flinching slightly as the light triggered another painful jolt to her head. She sat up carefully, sending a smile towards Gedarp and Alisha and listened quietly as the reports were given, trying to focus through the flashes of dream-memory that intruded upon her waking thoughts.

A great Eye, lidless, wreathed in poisonous flame.

A cold shiver travelled along her spine, her mind attempting to remember the vitriolic whispers from her dream, but to no avail. Whatever had been said, the memories were as elusive to grasp as smoke in the wind.

The Pilgrim, as it seemed she was known, was brought in; her words about Zakuul filled Shira both with hope and trepidation. It seemed to good to be true; she knew to take the words of religious fanatics with a grain of salt, but...

“If this Zakuul is so perfect, why have you not returned? Proselytising is well and good, but surely you’d make pilgrimage if this world and its ruler are as pure and heavenly as you claim.”

"I follow the will of the Ari," the Pilgrim replied, her words slow and careful, as if every sentence had to be uttered in the reverent tones of ritual and prayer. "A life of hedonism, while a divine gift enjoyed by many, is not one for me. My eudaemonia is achieved through more altruistic pursuits, however sacrificial on the superficial level. Through spreading the word of Infinity, the joy of Zakuul is with me, here," she brought an open palm over her heart. "But the Ari," she smiled, lowering her hand again, "clearly sees fit for me to make pilgrimage again. That is why I am here. That is why our paths have crossed."

Shira exchanged a quick look with the others before lapsing into thought. They needed somewhere to run and swiftly. The pyramids were almost certainly on their way but she couldn’t deny the trepidation she felt. This almost certainly sounded like a trap and she found herself terribly conflicted.

“Is there anyone who can corroborate your story? Please take no offence at my doubt; you must understand, we have to be careful. Your testimony sounds as though it’s perfection, a literal heaven within the Galaxy. Frankly, it sounds to good to truly exist, at least without a catch. If there were others who have travelled to Zakuul, perhaps some who wished to see it for themselves after hearing your assertions, it would go a long way in allaying my doubts.”

"My lady," Captain Gederp interjected, as the pilgrim took in breath to talk. "We might be able to.... Ensign," his red eyes glittered at one of Tatsu's detail, "contact the Intrepid. The archaeologist, the one who identified the Cathedral Ship... I want a secure line with him."

Gederp turned back to Shira, nodded apologetically and gestured at the Pilgrim to answer. "My lady," she replied patiently, "to one who has known only darkness, the sun must seem mythical indeed, if spoken of only in hushed whispers in the caverns. But there are many who can tell you of Zakuul, although perhaps not on this ship, given the villagers' primitive ways." She paused, steepling her hands in an inverse V. "You are a stranger in a strange land, and have come from far away. But in these regions, there are few who have not heard of the Eternal Throne, just as there are few who have not heard of the Destructors, the great flying pyramids of the Ari's evil brother, the venomous Serpent."

The pilgrim frowned, considering. "I doubt there are many, perhaps any you could presently find, that have been to Zakuul and returned. Why would ordinary folk ever return from Zakuul?"

Shira quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to braid a loose strand of hair in her ponderous mindset. She gestured to Xal’den before addressing the Pilgrim. “Thank you for your information. I must speak to my councillors. If you would be so kind as to tell Xal’den all you know about these Pyramids...we must be ready when they return. Any information you can give us may be the key to saving us all.”

She watched, waiting until the Pilgrim was escorted out of the room and the door hissed shut before turning to Alisha, Gederp and Jaye. “What say you?”

A frown creased Jaye’s dark eyes as he thought. “We cannot stay here. They’ll be back, likely sooner rather than later. This is a rich land, one they’ve been deprived of for who knows how many years. They’ll want it. We have no other leads. We will face certain death if we stay. Even if this Zakuul turns out to be less than what that fanatic states, you can’t say we’ll face a worse fate there than staying here or repeating our pattern of blind jumps. I vote we go.”

"Pardon me, my lady," Gederp looked up from the holoprojector he had once again withdrawn from his pocket while Tatsu spoke, lines of aurebesh flashing above his palm. "One second. I'm talking to the archaeologist right now."

Gederp scanned the incoming messages, occasionally interacting with the display with gloved fingers to send a query, rapidly filing away the archaeologist's answers into his advanced Chiss brain. At last, he stowed the holoprojector, and straightened.

"Well, I have good news. We are so deep in the unnavigable Unknown Regions, far beyond the beacon of civilisation that is the Ascendancy," he raised his blue chin, "that I had expected, particularly given the lack of superluminal holographic communication, that no galactic record would even mention Zakuul."

He placed his gloved hands behind his back as he continued his explanation. "I was wrong. Our resident archaeologist was Professor of Subterran History at the University of Procopia, and apparently faculty there had been extricating fact from myth regarding a Sith War nearly four thousand years ago. Apparently, the Sith War was interrupted... by an invasion of a droid fleet from the Unknown Regions, from some planet that could not be found on any charts. From Zakuul. A great enemy of the Sith named Valkorion, our archaeologist tells me, had founded an Empire there that made Republic and Sith both its subservient vassals, until its fleet withdrew, and Zakuul faded into obscurity. Although our own Dr. Hage notes that a... Professor Kya at the University of Kamparas believes this first Zakuulan Emperor was in fact a Dark Lord of the Sith who turned against his own people, so there's some academic disagreement. But still, regardless of antiquity, proof Zakuul is real, although no doubt it is simply a technologically advanced world in primitive Wild Space and this pilgrim embellishes out of superstition."

“Well,” Shira said, standing up with a decisive air. “That settles it. Alisha please inform General Strayus that he’s been promoted to the rank of Admiral. The Triumphant is now his. He is free to pick any Rear Admiral he sees fit. Get the co-ordinates for Zakuul from the Pilgrim and get us moving. We need to leave immediately. I need to see the leaders for all the sects we picked up from Odesson. I’ll need their help in integrating the refugees. You’re all dismissed.”




TAG: Padawan4687, Darth Dreadwar

IC: Lord Raspir
Location: Eternal Throne, Star Forge, Gunninga Gap


It seemed that the Infinite Emperor blatantly ignored Raspir's apology. Perhaps he really didn't care. Perhaps he was just keeping an image. Edworion spoke up to the Shard Sith, "You searched Iokath, when I directed you to Odessen. Perhaps that battle damaged your navigational circuitry. No, Lord Hypnos, I think you decided you could acquire the Abominor without putting in the servomotor grease beforehand." He seems much more magnanimous and benevolent then I ever dreamed. Certainly unlike the Sith of ancient times.


The Emperor continued to speak before Raspir could get in a word. Both of the others were strangely ignoring him. Perhaps he was the outsider here. Maybe the Shard was who the Emperor really wanted in his service. Not an ancient, overly loyal even to a fault, True Sith Magician. "But it is no matter. 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, shadow upon stars, destroyer of worlds, iron fist of the Infinite Emperor." By the Immortal Gods of the Sith, this SHALL NOT happen! No, not this day. Not ever.


Raspir spoke up with a firmness behind his voice that had not been there for some time, "My Lord Infinity. This Shard has no place among us. I brought him here for him to be executed. There was no reason for him to come aboard my vessel so as to acquire it. He has no claim to it. No claim to an Abominor, no claim to my Great Reap, and definitely no claim to the entire Eternal Fleet. If anyone deserves command of the entire fleet, it should be a councillor to you. Not an outsider. And I don't speak of myself either as I don't wish to command the fleet, only my own vessel. All I ask is that you are sure about this offer. The Shard may be more trouble than he's worth."


'Iron fist,' you've got to be kidding me. No Shard should have command of our fleet. For they are a lesser being. And especially not this Shard as he is quite mischievous. Only a True Sith of blood should be commanding our fleet. But I have said my opinion. Perhaps the Emperor will agree with me.


TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Darth Catalyst


___________________________________


IC: Azarius Qazoi
Location: The Triumphant, Orbiting Odessen


Azarius had finally made it in the New Galactic Empire. He became an Imperial Knight as they were going to need many more of them in the very near future. Many were gathered around the sleeping Hand of the abdicated Empress, Shira A'dola, in the quarters of the late Admiral Tharsus. The Ordu Aspectu had been destroyed, but there were heavy losses for the New Galactic Empire as well. No, Tharsus, Firmett, just to name a few. But we won. Azarius just stood and took it all in. All is as the Force wills it. In balance with chaos and harmony.


Gederp had been speaking the entire time, but it wasn't until he said this that he grabbed the attention of Azarius. "A Pius Dea Cathedral Ship, milady. Not seen in service for an unfathomable...ah, what was it, Ensign? 11,000 years? My Species come from what some jokingly call the Known Unknown Regions, but we are truly in uncharted space here...it's like looking into millennia 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." He also talked about how we had taken aboard around 900 people including 124 Force users from various sects. Perhaps among them are followers of the old way. The Je'daii. Kindred spirits they would be.


Gederp put away his holoprojector as another woman came into the room, escorted by two Stormtroopers. She bowed to the Hand and the Sword of the Empress saying, "All hallow the Ari." She continued to speak saying, "The world you seek, it is a paradise...Zakuul is a world of resplendent glory...spreading the word of the Infinite Emperor...at its heart is the Gunninga Gap...and teetering on the brink of the abyss is Zakuul." Debate went on between the Hand and the pilgrim from Zakuul. But in the end it was decided that we would go there.


All is as the Force wills it. Perhaps this 'Ari' can help bring balance to the Force. He seems like a benevolent God like being. I can only hope that the stories of this pilgrim are true. But Gederp did mention that the first Zakuulan Emperor, Valkorion he called him, could have been a Dark Lord of the Sith at one point. What if Zakuul is still secretly a Sith world. The Sith are selfish, and seek to control the Force. Not do as the Force wills. But I doubt the Sith would still control it, if they ever did before. Azarius walked over to Shira and said softly, "My Lady, are you sure about this?"


TAG: Shira , Padawan4687 , Darth Dreadwar

Entering the passageway, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban

Darth Apollyon pursed her lips, feeling the darkness roiling about her in agitation, responding to her irritation at Xirr's rebuke and Robyn's snark. "Look, I apologised, alright?" She snapped, her obsidian eyes lingering on the form of the armoured Sith Lord and the young Initiate. It was more tolerable a response from him, but from Robyn Shaire, a Jidai teenager playing dress-up with black robes? The image of her tongue being ripped from her gore-disgorging pink maw flashed in her mind. And it was that brutal visual, of all things, that cooled Apollyon's anger before it could surge forth in another toxic cloud of provocation, for Zelashiel instantly comprehended the source of the image was not her own mind.

She had a reputation in the Temple for her kindness to the Initiates, not only the children but the adult neophytes as well. She was oft-found disciplining Sith Lords who abused their powers, such as that squamous slime Ermir Marcus.

But the tomb would drive them all into a homicidal frenzy if it could help it. Apollyon was thankful Catalyst had remained silent; his silver tongue should have been lashing her - don't overthink that one, Zelashiel - in response, now, but his reticence indicated... Could he be warming to me? Enough to hold that wit of his at bay, even when I lose control in front of him? Could he even be...

She was doubly thankful Jania had chosen that moment to interject, breaking her chain of thoughts in a wise if impatient suggestion to get moving. "Indeed, Kio," Apollyon nodded. "We've tarried long enough. Let's get to it." Hefting the torch, Apollyon led the team into the darkness of the passageway, the daemoniacal light of the flame illuminating paintings and rows and rows of hieroglyphics on the walls. Depictions of vast worm-like monsters fighting amassed squadrons of Jedi Knights, depictions of a dark orb that could only be a planet, depictions of figures in golden armour with skin shades ranging from alien burgundy through crimson to human white. The Sith species... The Dark Jedi who subjugated them, and the hybrids they bred. Ten meters into the passage, the passageway made a sharp turn to the left, and Apollyon duly followed the bend, before encountering yet another sharp turn, this time to the right. As Apollyon progressed, the pattern repeated itself again, and again, and she quickly realised the passage was following a zig-zagging pattern, the ceiling, that at first the tallest amongst them had to stoop under, growing higher and higher with each turn.

It was then that Apollyon heard the child's laughter. An echoing warble of a thing, reverberating through the stale, dead air ahead of them, around another turn of the passageway. "Well, that's unnerving," Apollyon whispered, more to herself than anyone else, as she halted in her movement, ears peeled for a repetition of the youngling's giggle. After a pause, it echoed again, and Apollyon resumed walking, this time with greater haste, before finding the source between two more bends.

The child stood with her back turned to the team, a youngling who, judging by her height alone, could be no more than six standard years old. Other than her black hair, Apollyon could not make out any further details, swaddled in homespun garments as she was, although Zelashiel did take note of the strange brightness of the child, as if the child were caught in a stray sunbeam filtering through some crack in the wall - but there was none, no light source at all beyond the dim orange glow of the torch.

And the little girl was not alone.

Looming over the child was the taller, lithe figure of an older girl or woman, still half-a-foot shorter than Apollyon, enshrouded entirely in a hooded robe of midnight black. Where the child had been unnaturally lit, this figure was unnaturally dark, the flames of the torch illuminating nothing. And that was when Apollyon realised the child wasn't laughing. She's crying? Crying in... terror... Just as Apollyon opened her mouth to speak, the dark woman struck, igniting a crimson lightsaber and with a single violent gesture, stabbing it into the child's skull. Like a puppet whose strings had been prematurely cut, the child fell to the ground, and the shadowy slayer turned to face the team, her lightsaber rising in a mocking salute.

In the scarlet glow of her lightsaber, Apollyon could make out only a bloody grin and chin of pinkish red within her hood, and in a flash of intuition, a strong suspicion seized her on what this shadow slayer was. A Sith pureblood. One of the legendary True Sith my master always spoke of, the pink-red species of Korriban that lent their name to our Order. "You... you..." Apollyon's mouth opened in horror, her stomach churning at the gruesome act of murder that had just occurred in front of her. She was just a child! An innocent child! Why... how...? "You've been sealed here, all this time?" Apollyon managed at last, contemplating the fact that this woman could have been held in sorcerous stasis for millennia, perhaps being freed from a deathless sleep once the tomb had detected intruders.

"Not quite so long," the hooded woman replied. Her voice was low, distorted by the unnatural effects of the dark side upon one's vocal chords, but warped further still by a cool, casual cruelty. "Darth Insipid created me," she hissed, referring to Dreadwar's presently absent Night Herald and foremost ally, lightsaber idly twirling to periodically cast light on the child's corpse beside her boots. "He attempted to snip my wings like a captive bird, but took flight like a coward before I could return the favor. So now here I am," she drawled, her left hand toying with a crystal locket around her neck that Apollyon could only guess was an ancient Sith amulet, "practicing on the innocent what I wish to do to him."

"Who are you?" Apollyon snarled, her caramel hand wrenching a crossguard hilt from her belt, a screeching snap-hiss echoing throughout the crypt as Apollyon ignited her unstable lightsaber.

"My name is Darth..." And then, seizing upon the brief moment of unpreparedness as Apollyon waited to hear the full name, the dark woman charged. A somersault closed the distance between her and the team instantly, a gloved hand firing a vast and cataclysmic storm of Force Lightning towards Robyn Shaire, Coatlec and Jania Kio. Her other hand, meanwhile, guided her lightsaber in a slash towards the necks of Apollyon and Viscretus, the same gesture directing telekinetic power towards Catalyst and Xirr in a raw Force Push of tremendous power. Simultaneously, the body of the slain child was violently levitated, and hurled like a projectile towards Kevala and Scionica.

TAG: Shira Volshe dice Darth Catalyst Padawan4687 @lordjania Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror

IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: Passageway of Ku'ar Danar, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban


Coatlec, Viscretus, and Apollyon had seemingly cracked the puzzle. Ku'ar Danar was the choice of rooms. Jania seemed to be getting continually more antsy and anxious at every fleeting moment. "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," Jania said with a certain fear in her voice, presumably afraid of the voices in her head. They were only getting worse. In a matter of minutes she could lose control. But Coatlec reassured her in saying, "Jania, we'll get through this. Together." She strode confidently up to the opening of the room marked for the ancient Dread Lord, Ku'ar Danar, and said, "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?"  Apollyon backed her suggestion in saying, "Indeed, Kio. We've tarried long enough. Let's get to it." It's not time yet. Perhaps I can tell the team about Dreadwar once we are inside the room. I'm not quite sure that the information would be entirely useful to any of them at this time anyway. 


As the nine moved further into the cave-like path to the room, they noticed many ancient paintings and glyphs on the wall. Pureblood Sith, the Jen'jidai, Jedi Knight scrap, great beasts, so much more. They came to a point on the path where it began to zig-zag. Coatlec, standing roughly 78 inches, had to duck to avoid the ceiling of the cave in the beginning, but it gradually became higher where he no longer had to duck. It was then that they began to hear something rather strange coming from further down the path. It was a child's laughter. "Well that's unnerving," said Apollyon. Holy kriff...what on Korriban is that? The hell is a child doing down here? The group would come around more turns until they came to the place where the child was. However, she was not the only being down there. Another being, a woman robed in midnight black, was also standing there. But no, the child was not laughing at all. She was crying in what must have been fear or even terror at the older woman. With no hesitation, the dark woman ignited her crimson lightsaber and ran it through the skull of the child. Oh Force....


Apollyon was just as appalled as Coatlec was. The dark woman turned to face the company, revealing some of her face, though not all, it was enough to betray her species. A Sith pureblood, no doubt. One of the ancient race of Korriban. She must have been down here for millennia. There's no way she could have found her way down here. But Coatlec's thought was cut short as Apollyon began speaking with the Sith. "You...you...you've been sealed here, all this time?" How could she have survived for so long? It's almost impossible. The woman began to speak. "Not quite so long. Darth Insipid created me." Kark his name! Night Herald. Ha! I deserve such a prominent position. "He attempted to snip my wings like a captive bird, but took flight like a coward before I could return the favor. So now here I am, practicing on the innocent what I wish to do to him." Coatlec wanted to ask how she got down there but there was no opportunity for such an inquiry. For Apollyon spoke up yet again, "Who are you?" 


The woman seemed to begin her reply, "My name is Darth..." but cut off there as she charged at Apollyon and Viscretus with frantic swings of the lightsaber. Yet still, she managed to hurl a torrent of Force lightning at Coatlec and the two initiates. But further still, she launched a Force push at Catalyst and Xirr while throwing the corpse of the child at the twin assassins. Coatlec quickly gathered his thoughts for a plan of action. He would not ever make the same mistakes he made against Viscretus. But before Coatlec could communicate his plan telepathically, Catalyst sprung into action. He dodged the Force push of the Sith, and he proceeded to telekinetically rip at the Sith amulet that hung around her neck. It was time for Coatlec's plan.


Coatlec first pulled an elongated hilt from his belt. With a snap-hiss as it ignited, the two blood red blades of his saberstaff came forth. He held it out in front of him with his exceptional Force defense behind it so as to absorb the lightning from the Sith. He then reached out with the full might of his mental prowess in the Force to touch the minds of everyone in the company. I need you all to hear me out and execute the plan. We can't have things going awry at this time. We're so close. First, Viscretus, block her saber swing with your Tutaminis. It will catch her off guard. Kevala, Scionica, you should be able to dodge the oncoming body because of your natural abilities. Xirr, I need you to catch the body with the Force and throw it back at the Sith to break her concentration. Kevala and Scionica, you will then charge her with daggers giving the rest of us an opening. Apollyon and Catalyst then should keep her occupied with the blade while Viscretus and I stay back. I will then release Force lighnting while Viscretus will use Force drain so we can be rid of this challenger that stands in the way of our knowledge. He then cut off the link, though he may need to reestablish it soon.


I can only hope that they listen. They don't exactly respect me. Chaos, yet balance. I must keep it that way. It is difficult here, but I'm beginning to overcome easier than before. Perhaps I'm getting used to this environment. Once we vanquish this nuisance, my search for artifacts shall commence. I've heard something of a spellbook, or grimoire, that once belonged to Broodica. That shall be of great use to me. Also, the room dedicated to Marshal has to be filled with unknown artifacts, perhaps giving some buffers to my existing power. And then, I still must tell them of our Dread-King.


TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Darth Catalyst , Volshe , Shira , dice , @lordjania , Padawan4687

IC: Jania Kio
Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban

As she was reassured by her Master and her plan to forge ahead basically approved by Apollyon, Jania felt she was a few steps closer to getting out of here and ridding herself of these cancerous voices in her head. Following her Master down the path, after awhile it seemed they would be walking forever and in many differing directions. With there literally being almost no noise the voices began to work themselves on her psyche once more. “It’s nice and dark down here... perfect place for us to stay together... kill them and we can be alone.... all alone like you’ve always been.... do it... they don’t care about you.... KILL THEM!!! DO IT NOW!!” The girl would stop and allow the group to get a few feet ahead of her as her hand trembled as it reached for her training blade. Her soft hand wrapped around the hilt and began to pull it from its sheath on her back before she was finally able to fight the voices back. “No.... I can’t kill them.... my Master is there..... the cute girl Robyn is there too..... no.... leave me alone!!” She managed to keep her fight in her thoughts so the others wouldn’t be tipped off. It was soon thereafter the laughter of a child began to fill the area which spooked Jania even more.

Catching up to the rest of the group, she would eventually notice the child was crying, not laughing. And it was she saw something she would never be able to unsee. The brutal death of the little boy and not so later on the attack on the group by this weirdly skinned lady from a species she never heard of, Jania felt nothing but intense anger mixed with sorrow. Was this all the Sith was? Murder this, torture that, scheming and plotting... surely she would’ve thought they stood for more than this but once again it would seem in her mind she was disappointed. Hearing her Master’s plan and knowing she wasn’t included didn’t help her emotions either but she knew she was practically useless... Heck that child probably had more knowledge in the force than even she had. The voices used her intense emotions to cloud her mind once more and send yet another message. “Now this is interesting... well little one your not just going to stand there are you.... your anger.... use it..... kill the woman.... do it..... you’ll be praised and seen as useful...... kill her.... Kill Her..... KILL HER!!!” In that next instant Jania pulled her blade seemingly succumbing to the influences and used the force to move herself forward dodging the lightning coming her way as she aimed a precise strike at the Sith pureblood. “I’m going to kill you!!”

Tag: Darth Dreadwar, Darth Catalyst, Volshe, Shira, dice, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Padawan4687

IC: Robyn Shaire
Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow

Robyn pursed her own lip, much like Lady Apollyon before lowering her head and continuing onward. … I’m not usually this snappy, am I? She pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing to herself. Damn, this tomb really is getting everybody…

She observed the walls with a curious eye, resisting the urge to run her hand across the markings. The Force alone knew what might happen to her if she touched runes in an ancient Sith’s tomb… Crawling with spirits, traps and puzzles, there’s always the possibility that the walls themselves are a trap too! A child’s laughter shattered the silence, and Robyn blinked her eyes open in surprise. A child? Here?! “What the hell…?” she whispered, all but running after Apollyon to find the source.

Her Sight registered a pair of auras up ahead, and with her regular eyes, Robyn could finally see the laughing child in question. A girl? She thought, ...and someone behind her? Shorter than Apollyon, small… and completely obscured in a cloak. I can only guess that it’s a woman. Robyn glared forward, feeling increasingly apprehensive. That child wasn’t laughing, she was crying in fear! If she’d been with the Jedi, she would have hurried to her without hesitating… Robyn could barely open her mouth before the shadowy figure behind the child activated a blood red lightsaber and struck, a single stab right through the head.

“No!” she cried out, taking a horrified step back. It seemed like the Sith around her were all just as disgusted as she was, Apollyon especially. I guess we might have that in common… In the sickly light of this new Sith’s lightsaber blade, Robyn could only see the very bottom of her face, a pink chin and a gory-looking smile. A Red Sith? She asked mentally, before shaking her head and fixing a glowing red glare upon the cloaked figure. I don’t give a damn what you are, you murderer! That was just a child!

"You've been sealed here, all this time?" Lady Apollyon managed to speak at last, contemplating the fact that this woman could have been held in sorcerous stasis for millennia, perhaps being freed from a deathless sleep once the tomb had detected intruders.

"Not quite so long," the hooded woman replied. Her voice was low, distorted by the unnatural effects of the dark side upon one's vocal chords, but warped further still by a cool, casual cruelty. "Darth Insipid created me," she hissed, referring to Dreadwar's presently absent Night Herald and foremost ally, lightsaber idly twirling to periodically cast light on the child's corpse beside her boots. Robyn felt her stomach sink just a little further every time the child’s body was lit up. However, every time the Zeltron took in the sprawled black hair and quickly paling skin of the poor girl, the more her blood began to boil.

"He attempted to snip my wings like a captive bird, but took flight like a coward before I could return the favor. So now here I am," the shadowy woman drawled, her left hand toying with a crystal locket around her neck that Apollyon could only guess was an ancient Sith amulet, "practicing on the innocent what I wish to do to him."

Robyn had to fight to stop a snarl from escaping her jaws. How dare you! She pressed a hand hard against her chest, forming a tight fist. No grudge is worth a little kid’s life!

"Who are you?" Apollyon snarled, her caramel hand wrenching a crossguard hilt from her belt, a screeching snap-hiss echoing throughout the crypt as Apollyon ignited her unstable lightsaber.

"My name is Darth..." the woman never finished her own sentence, lunging forward to attack. Robyn couldn’t see anything except for the storm of lightning hurled in her direction, and shifted her vision for an instant to recall that both Jania and her Master were standing close behind. Just jumping out of the way would put them in the line of fire, and Robyn did technically promise to help keep the other Acolyte alive…

Ha, or not! There Jania was, leaping up and over both her and the lightning. Robyn grinned, pulling her lightsaber free and jumping beside her in one smooth motion. After igniting the violet blade, she joined the charge.

TAG: Darth Catalyst , dice , Volshe , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , @lordjania , Darth Dreadwar

IC: The Twins
False Tomb of Naga Sadow

The twins snarled as Coatlec's voice entered their minds. Scionica shut him out immediately, forcing out his presence entirely. Her mind had fractured enough from forced entries. Who were these people to enter her mind as if they owned her? No. She would kill the next person who tried, she would gut them like a stuck puffer-pig!

//Stay out of our heads, pffask!// Kevala spat, malice flooding her mental signature. What she wouldn't admit was that his instructions were what she and Scionica had already planned for. The fact that they would now be doing their own plan while it looked to be following the instructions from some sycophantic bastard made her pride protest. 

Nevertheless, she knew it had to be done. Coatlec would pay for his impudence later, but they had to deal with this....problem first. Unheeded, the twins' mental connection reopened. Intent, movement, action; all became synchronized in their mind. It allowed them to act as a single entity operating on two separate levels, working in perfect harmony. It was what made them such efficient and perfect assassins. 

The two leapt into actions, movements lithe and lethal as the ducked around the other dangers and people surrounding them. Scionica's staff snapped and hissed as the electricity further illuminated the corridor. She slid between the strange woman's legs before rolling to her feet and whipping the end of her crackling weapon towards her opponent's back. Kevala leaped into the air and kicked off of the passage wall's rock face. A soft hiss sounded as she withdrew both blades from her back, aiming for the vulnerable neck as she sailed in from above.

TAG: dice, Darth Catalyst, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Padawan4687, Darth Dreadwar, @lordjania, Volshe

IC: Captain Gederp
Admiral Tharsus' Quarters, the Triumphant, entering hyperspace

You're all dismissed. Gederp nodded stiffly, and turned with the rest of the occupants of the room, as Tatsu, with whom he traded a glance, left for the exit with his aides. Already acting the part of a Grand Admiral, Gederp thought snidely, blithely following orders like a white lapdog, without examining the detail, and weighing their practicality... or intelligibility. "Ensign," Gederp barked, "transmit the pilgrim's coordinates to the crew pit for entry into the navicomputer." Even as the young officer snapped a salute and followed the small crowd out the emptying room, Gederp was already bringing his wrist-com to his narrow blue lips, communicating to the bridge to ready the Triumphant for superluminal departure. But he did not follow. Instead, he turned back, his red eyes flitting over Alisha Tano and an Imperial Knight - Azarius something - and taking solace in the fact he was not the only one to disregard Lady A'dola's dismissal.

Indeed, like him, they were questioning the Hand's instructions, which was particularly bold - if too comfortable - on the part of the random Knight. Their questioning was childish folly, of course; Tano's own whining seemed entirely petty to the Chiss officer, more focusing on the fact she had been too late to speak up than any misstep on A'dola's part. Gederp would rectify that. Let her view it as insubordination if she wishes, but I trust she prioritises competence over subservience.

"My Hand," Gederp interjected, showing none of the softness of Azarius, which the captain hoped would result in his own complaint drowning out the presumptuous Knight's, "it would be... anomalous" - absurd - "to promote a general of the Imperial Army to equivalent rank within the Imperial Navy. I fear Strayus would be wholly inadequate and unprepared for the role, and even less qualified to choose a commodore, much less anyone he sees fit," Gederp's strained smile stretched to a grimace, as the deck lurched beneath them and the viewport turned to cobalt fire, "for the Rear Admiralty."

TAG: Padawan4687 , Shira , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror

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IC: Emperor Edworion
The Eternal Throne, Star Forge, Gunninga Gap

"My Lord Infinity," Raspir spoke up the instant Hypnos had whistled his compliance, "this Shard has no place among us. I brought him here for him to be executed..." Edworion arched an eyebrow as Raspir continued. So soon after his telepathic rebuke, Raspir was displaying boldness, in offering criticism masked as mere questioning. Does he think his addendum, that he only means it to question my sureness, truly obfuscates his intent? Foolish if so, for Raspir surely knew Edworion only gave voice to decisions when they had been fully weighted in the cruel and careful scales of his malice. But then, Edworion did not smite the bearer of bad news, nor the subordinate who made an honest attempt to point out a problem. Even as Darth Dreadwar I could not bring myself to such stupidity. Of course, there were some fools who mistook his policy for weakness, who tried to thrust themselves forward by pushing him down in their public counsel, thinking him obliged to tolerate it as criticism.

Fortunately for Raspir, Edworion did not need unpareil mental powers to know that the sorcerer was not motivated by such games. "My servant Raspir," the Emperor smiled, "I brought the Shard here to command my fleet." And that is all he offered in return, hoping the disembodied pureblood was intelligent enough to deduce how Edworion had just exculpated Hypnos.

The Infinite Emperor turned away from the two towards the swirling vortex of the Infinity Gate, unclasping his gloved hands from behind his voluminous cloak to pet the man-sized snout of Danarys. It was a dismissal. "The Great Reap shall take you to Odessen," Edworion spoke, giving Raspir his orders as much as he was addressing Hypnos, "and you shall start your search there. The hyperspace lane continues to Terminus, so if you find no sign, continue thence." A potentially explosive cocktail, there, if Persevus had taken the Aethric Mirror to Vassago's place of recusal. It was the sort of complex web of chaotic variables that warranted Edworion's prudent efforts to unravel... But there was simply too much risk to pursue himself, both in terms of overplaying his hand, and placing himself within the field of the Mirror, a rational concern given Persevus' careless handling that had directed the Mirror's gaze to open space before - and undoubtedly ensnared entire systems and fleets in the process. I shall not let the mistake of the Mind Trap be repeated, and see myself ensnared a second time... but alas, in being cautious, I must rely on pawns bearing half my wit and a tenth my power.

TAG: Darth Catalyst , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror

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IC: Tarpy
Exiting the Durendal, hangar bay of the Ninûshodojinyaut, dead space
"Kark yeah, let's get to it!" The tarp offered in hushed excitement, curling itself up into a ball of wadded fabric to follow Kint with speed, rolling across the deck of the Durendal's passageways, out the airlock and, finally, down the forcibly lowered boarding ramp of the adjoining Dauntless.

What awaited the three unlikely partners was a vast and gloomy hangar bay, illuminated only by distant starlight filtering through the invisible magcon shield to their right, and the bloodshine of emergency lighting that oscillated from above a passageway - seemingly the hangar's only exit - in the left corner. The flashing light cast strange and moving shadows on the two walls visible from the landing ramp, its feverish and flickering glow washing over the grotesque imagery of twisted metal hands and cephalopodic appendages sprouting from the durasteel. The entire far wall was a bas-relief of macabre metallurgy, and between each sculpture of pseudopod and eyestalk were grooves through which a dark, ink-like substance trickled in an eerily elegant pattern. The source of the liquid, it would become apparent, was a honeycomb of holes in the lonesome, tentacular face sculpted into the relief, its trypophobic pores weeping the tar as if seeping pus.

"Now that," the tarp shuddered as it stared across at the wall, "is creepy." It began to unravel and float towards Kint Dranlor, as if hoping to hide behind the Masarian mercenary, its disdain of its owner for his supposed maltreatment swiftly being forgotten, like a rebellious child suddenly finding comfort in a parent's protection when things went to Chaos. "I think," it whispered as it turned to Lemmy, not daring to speak any louder in the overwhelming darkness of the gargantuan hangar, "we should think about getting ou..."

A quiet mewling interrupted its suggestion. From the darkness of the hangar's exit crawled the horror, ambling forward on its crooked forelimbs and splayed hands in a precariously balanced gait, the body of the humanoid, absent legs, curling backwards towards a smooth cranium that possessed only a too-wide mouth, drooling black saliva. The overall impression was that of the demonspawn of a human and a caterpillar, but its impression in the Force was fouler still; a ragged wound in the Force, infected with rot, bleeding the dark side of the Force.


When its eyeless skull turned towards the three, as if sensing their presence, the monster croaked in strangely rhythmic sibilance. EEESH SNAA FAHOORSH. As it spoke, the liquid on the far wall vibrated, echoing its lilted and guttural cadence. ABELOTH GERAAASH FEERAATOTEP. MNGGGGAL MNGGGAL HINNHAL SEEEEEERAATH. Grinning, the abomination skittered towards them, its twisted body thrashing violently, kept high in the air behind it like the tail of a scorpion... ready to sting with the kiss of death.

TAG: Darth Catalyst , gorzan

IC: Ermir Marcus
Sith Alchemy Classroom, Dungeons of the Sith Temple, Korriban

Ermir Marcus sneered as he contemplated Arcane's response. It was frustrating, was the thing. It was so obeisant it tied his hands; he could offer no follow-up insult, no elaboration of criticism, for Arcane had already covered every base, and, if anything, exceeded the hyperbolic rhetoric of Marcus through referring to himself as the least intelligent representation of his species. Yet so utterly self-abasing, so exaggeratedly sycophantic, it could only be insincere. Indeed, it displayed sufficient social deftness that it made Ermir consider Arcane's gesture had been a ploy, a calculated risk to draw attention to himself, recognising that all attention was good attention. And what? Mark himself out as a neophyte to be cut down to size? If Arcane was pursuing such a strategy, it was a risky one. On his own head be it, then.

Ermir's sneer widened as he reclined in his own leather chair, kicking his feet up on the master's desk. It was a clear taunt, but one he knew Arcane's strategy of self-effacement would force him to ignore. "I am pleased you recognise your own inadequacy," Ermir drawled. And then the white-robed Sith Master continued his lesson. His tone gradually shifted to droning as the minutes ticked by, touching on Sith toxins that had profound neuropsychological effects and primed one for conversion to the dark side, before moving on to the poisons utilised in the Great Hyperspace War. Half-an-hour later, Ermir's lesson drew to a close. "...And that, my young apprentices, is why Sorzus Syn is accredited with the invention of the potion of resplendent glamour, despite it being XoXaan's vanity that inspired it. It would go on to be honed into the alchemical art of the Mask, a technique used by Lords Zash and Sidious to obscure their dark side corruption. And with that, we end today's lesson."

Marcus withdrew his ankle-boots from the top of his desk, planting them firmly on the stone floor with a click as he stood. "Don't forget," he raised his voice over the murmuring of the students as they stood, "two pages on Naga Sadow's poison blade due tomorrow, and for those of you skipping dinner for Gafarl's extracurricular, report to the torture chambers at 1900 hours. That's," he glanced down at his obnoxiously gaudy wrist-chrono, "half-an-hour from now." Ermir Marcus turned in a flurry of fabric, his coat swirling around him, and then he exited the classroom, winking at a female Zabrak as he left.

Slowly, the Sith students filed out after him, most making their way upstairs from the dungeons' passageways to the opulent dining hall for the evening feast, others making for the torture chambers deeper in the dungeons, and some heading to the sparring rooms for lightsaber practice or the library for study. Two, however, stayed behind, lingering outside the door and waiting for Arcane to emerge. "Oh, look what we have here, Snyster," the Devaronian on the left would chuckle to his partner, upon spotting Arcane. "Yeah, Jark," the Twi'lek grinned toothily in return, "looks like a peon who thinks he can gettaway with disrespecting our wonderful teacher, huh?" Both of the malcontents were lightly fingering the lightsabers that hung on their belts. It would be fairly obvious that they did not care whatsoever about sticking up for Master Marcus; no, instead, they were simply offering a thinly-veiled excuse to confront the newcomer. Arcane had wanted to attract attention - and attract attention he had. "You might have apologised to Master Marcus," Jark sneered, "but I think ya oughta apologise to us for setting a bad example. Why not give us ya notes from today's lesson, furball?"

TAG: Arcane

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IC: Garn Tarcrulus and Captain Jacen Thilly
Hold of the Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon

Garn exchanged a glance with Thilly, narrowing his eyes and flicking them over in Karina's direction. It was a silent message for the Captain to rein in Karina, not because Garn was particularly wrathful, but because Garn did not trust the temperament of the murderous man beside him. The last thing they needed was for Voidwalker to grow discontent with Karina's tone, and cut them all down to size - literally.

"No disrespect taken, Karina," Thilly began, awkwardly, "but let's be sure to not disrespect our guests either, aye?" He offered a friendly wink at the end to soften his rebuke. Turning to Draven, he responded. "And I'm the pilot and captain all in one," he chuckled. "I'm good, but your plan isn't good. We're not talking about a fleet in orbit of the planet, we're talking a checkpoint on the hyperspace lane. Interdictors. They'll drag us out of hyperspace at the Federation border."

"Indeed," Garn added. "Nor will asking my contact for a favour - Ermir Marcus is his name, by the way - um, asking him for a favour won't be of any use to us. He wants these artifacts to be delivered to him directly, and discreetly. No doubt powerful weapons he wishes to hide from his rivals... You know how Sith are." Garn sighed, remembering he was addressing one. Or at least one who calls himself Sith. "In any event, get us in the air please, Captain. We can detail a plan further en route, since we have, what, two hours' lightspeed 'til the checkpoint?"

Jacen nodded and made to stand, before thinking better of it and resuming sitting. "Actually, G8," he nodded at the sole droid member of his crew, "you lift 'er off. We need my brains here fer the time bein' eh?" As the pilot droid departed for the cockpit and the boarding ramp closed, Garn shrugged and opened his palms. "I'm open to more suggestions, here."

TAG: kurtishenschel Darth Voidwalker

*character image (optional)*
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Character Summary:



Name/Title: D'non Velkor


Age: 134


Sex: Male


Species: Gurlanin


Homeworld: Quillaria


Occupation: Bounty hunter


Height: varies from five foot to almost seven


Appearance: varies, from human to wolflike


Weapons: a variety of weaponry, from slug rifles, to shotguns, to submachine guns, and including a large number of explosives. He also possesses a wide range of vibroshivs and blades.


Equipment: armor plating, similar in design to mandalorian, made of extremely thin plated mandalorian iron. It contains a variety of functions, from a flamethrower to a whipcord thrower, and including a blaster and a dart launcher. Some comlink gear, advanced datapad, etc...


Description of Abilities: as a gurlanin he has several unique abilities. Firstly, he can shapeshift, taking on the appearance of any alien roughly his size.

Secondly, they are invisible to the force, unable to sensed (although they do have their own interspecies telepathy)

Thirdly, they are also physically stronger, more durable, and more flexible than humans, enabling them to lift heavier loads, and perform acrobatic feats impossible for humans.

And fourthly, they can disguise themselves from visual, thermal, and infrared scanners, which combined with their disconnection from the force, makes them ideal assassins.


Personality: humorous, fast moving, and seems lighthearted. Cracks jokes and makes puns while slicing people in half.


Biography: born 20 years after the battle of yavin, he grew up isolated with his people, the quillarians. However, at age 22, a slaver ship arrived and stole almost a dozen of them away to be sold.

D'non was sold, and used as a personal weapon, released only to kill, and spending all of his time fighting in pits like a gladiator. Eventually, he killed his owner and escaped.

He hunted down the slaver who had captured him and beat him to a pulp, demanding the location of his secretive, isolated home planet. However, in an act of spite, the slaver deleted the files, and d'non tore out his threat.

He then took up the only job he knew: killing. He became well known and infamous for his skill, and although nobody ever saw his true face, and people rarely actually met him, he gained a reputation. Eventually he met Kint dranlor, and they became comrades, working as a team quite often.


Level/Stats (for new players):

IC: Karina
The Artificer, Docking Bay 66, Iziz Starport, Onderon

Karina watched them talk back and forth starting silent as the ship shook signaling that the thrusters were activating and they were taking off on their mission. She tapped her foot a little resulting in a metallic clinking noise as she crossed her arms under her chest and sat back some. She seemed lost in thought for a few minutes as the droid got them going. Finally she looked back to the captain " are there any nebula along the border? If there's one we could venture through it, it should keep us from popping up on their scanners. Or we could try finding a asteroid field and hope they aren't foolish enough to follow us through." She briefly looked to the other man again looking him over a second time trying to figure out what exactly had them afraid of him but decided to save it for after the mission was over. She knew asking in front of the man would only bring trouble but as far as she could tell there was nothing to fear from this guy. If anything the only feeling she got about him was slightly disturbed due to his lack of input despite the severity of the job they were tasked with.

She returned her attention to the captain to continue stating her idea "if we really have to get past this sith fleet we could risk jumping out of hyperspace behind them but we would have to ensure we aren't about to slam into one of those ships. Perhaps one of these force users could help with that so the mission isn't just on our shoulders while they sit back and relax. It's all up to you captain but it depends on how desperate we are to get these two and the artifacts onto that planet." She adjusted in her seat and put a hand behind her head and the other on her chairs armrest in a relaxed position to show she wasn't as nervous around the pair as her captain was.

Tags: Darth Dreadwar @voidwalker