gorzan
Citizen
Posts: 93 
Likes: 60
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Post by gorzan on Dec 5, 2017 2:51:36 GMT -5
IC: D’non Velkor Location: Coruscant Underground D’non cursed as the guards turned his direction. He slipped back into the crowd, keeping them between himself and the guards. Then, using his genetic abilities, he vanished from sight, crouching, and continuing to watch Rial. He cursed as the farghul jumped, and glanced over at Gez’segi. He saw the large figure embrace her from behind, and cursed. He knew he didn’t have time to go back for her, so she would be on her own for this part. However, he also knew that she wouldn’t have been sent on this mission if she couldn’t handle herself. He turned back just in time to see rial’s feet disappear from view. Keeping himself cloaked, he backed up four swift paces, and then took short running start and leaped into the air, catching on to the same hatch as the farghul, pulling himself up and out of the hatch. “Rial, Don’t run. We aren’t here to harm you. I’m here to get you out of here!” Tags: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, patrickx31, |
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Volshe
Administrator 
.: Empress
Posts: 229
Likes: 163
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Post by Volshe on Dec 5, 2017 22:53:51 GMT -5
Darth Viscretus”Pomojema’s” Room, The False Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanViscretus would have laughed - were the initiate's actions even the slightest bit amusing. But she had enough of the fools that had gallavanted into the Tomb with them - thinking themselves important in any manner of the word. They were insects at best. Brainless, spineless worms who knew nothing of the Galaxy but who thought they knew all. There was no word potent enough to describe what utter idiocy was held inside Jania's skull. Viscretus broke her gaze to glance at Coatlec - nor how to describe the absolute undiluted lack of awareness her supposed master had. And had passed on only that - since Jania would barely be able to defend herself against a nerf. But she was nothing if not intelligent, and she would be in error to say that Jania’s bravery to foolish fault was not something desirable in a Sith acolyte. Much more so than, say, incompetence in one who had learned the Sith ways already. She would have to be taught. But to teach one such as her, she would have to be broken. If she would even survive such punishment. Viscretus’ hand rose up, flinging her against the far wall, then immediately dragging her along the floor towards her. And with a curl of her finger, her vertebrae began to shatter. One after another, the cracking of bone releasing a faint echo. “You will answer me this.” Her grip released the initiate, then left her to writhe in the agony of her twisted spine. “You are worth nothing. As memorable as the rotting corpses buried here. Meaningless. Useless. Forever so.” She twisted her hand over abruptly, her pelvis cracking in two. “I could leave you as one of them.” She stepped forward, footsteps punctuating every word. “Doomed to suffer until your very...last...breath.” Her hand curled into a fist, stealing away the oxygen from her lungs. “You will obey me, now. You will pick the one here who does not deserve to be Sith. You know who it is. Do not dally. If you do not...you both will die.” Viscretus turned, facing the rest of them and allowing the acolyte breath again. Her violet lips pursed, flickering with the chamber’s miasmic green. “Unless one of you would rather defend her - or perhaps,” her skirts brushed the stone as she stepped around languidly, “even select on her behalf?” TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Padawan4687, Shira, Darth Catalyst, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , @lordjania , diceTAGSET: Tomb of Naga Sadow
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Post by Darth Iramus on Dec 5, 2017 23:51:00 GMT -5
 Theme Music: Two Steps From Hell - Black Blade (Invincible) Character Summary: Rank/Level: Master 6 Class: Sith Sorcerer/Arcanist Name/Title: Darth Iramus; Librarian and Lorekeeper Age: Apparent age 27, actual age roughly 150 years Sex: Male Species: Human Homeworld: Chandrila Occupation: Lorekeeper and seeker of knowledge Height: 1.8 Meters Appearance: Iramus has a pale complexion, but his face is more often than not obscured by the hood of his black robes. Under these he wears a simple outfit of black pants and tunic with dark burgundy tabi and obi and a black leather belt to hold his weapons and equipment. Weapons: His favored weapon is a long hilted lightsaber with a crimson blade. In spite of his academic nature Iramus is well versed in lightsaber and hand to hand combat and use of the Force as a weapon. Equipment: Vials containing specimens and elixirs for his archeological and other studies. Astrographic computers for plotting star movements. Description of Abilities: Iramus’ Force abilities include Force Push/Pull, Mind Trick, Force Avalanche and Force Lightning. His preferred lightsaber combat method is Form II Makashi Stats: Force push/pull – 3 Force Avalanche – 3 Force Lightning – 3 Force Choke – 3 Mind Trick – 3 Force Drain – 3 Dark Side Healing – 3 Force Deense – 2 Form II/Makashi - 3 Personality: Many would describe Iramus as cold and distant, preferring to keep to his archives and research. He rarely shows much in the way of emotion beyond the rare flash of anger and hatred when confronted by an enemy. Biography: Iramus was born Che’lum Din’la on the planet Chandrila. He was taken at a young age to be trained as a Jedi and reached the rank of Jedi Knight in his early twenties. Iramus reputation in the Jedi temple would mirror the one he later gained as a Sith; though willing to help others with research if asked and more than capable of contributing to conversation, the young Jedi Knight was often seen as distant, almost standoffish, by his peers. As he neared his thirties Jedi Din’la found himself undertaking many missions to find and bring back Sith artifacts so that they may be kept from falling into the wrong hands. Once one such mission with his former master Din’la came upon an ancient Sith artifact that he would later discover held a fragment of the spirit of a long dead Sith who would only identify herself as Vahl. Over time (the mission lasted many months) this spirit made itself known to him and began to insinuate terrible things. The Jedi were not being truthful, it said. At first, Din’la intended to tell his former Master, indeed the Council, about what he had discovered. But every time he was about to, something held him back. He would converse with the spirit and it would tell him more that he had not previously expected. More that he soon discovered to be true. It began to instruct him in alchemical methods to remove the wear of years in the elements had worked upon his youthful features. After the missions return to the temple others began to notice that he was even more reclusive than before. His former master became concerned and more than a little suspicious and so he searched his young friend’s quarters. Din’la was confronted by his old friend and, in a panicked rage attacked. After a ferocious duel Din’la slew him; though he sustained injuries of his own. Full of fear and anger, he consulted the spirit on what to do. The spirit told him to seek the Sith on Korriban and dubbed him, Lord Iramus. Iramus fled the Temple and took his former masters ship to the outer rim to find the Sith and join them in their quest to end the Jedi. It was then that the Emperor found him and brought him to his rightful place in the Temple on Korriban where he could learn and teach others about the true nature of the Force. Currently Iramus does not have an apprentice, as his constant studying and experiments do not stir the blood of the more ambitious youth, but he is open to teaching those who would learn Sith alchemy, an understanding of the biological aspects of force sensitivity throughout the ages and the way that the force has shaped and destroyed many cultures.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2017 0:44:57 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban As Jania pulled away from her kiss with Scionica, the 16 year old figured the adults would get back to their business and she would stay in her own. Hearing Robyn go off on her was enough to piss Jania off as she tried to be nothing but nice to the woman. Trying again and again to break the ice and this was what she was met with? Taking a few steps towards the pink girl she was ready to slug her really quick just to ease the nerves coursing through her right now. “You know you have...” She had more planned to say but it was at that moment she noticed everyone was silent watching, even the woman she had confronted a moment ago. Wondering what was about to happen she stopped her hostile advance when Viscretus turned to glare at her Master. A confused expression would find its way to Jania’s face. However, it wouldn’t stay long as a sudden realization came too late for her. Feeling the sudden push into the far wall was enough to momentarily stun the girl. She thought this would be it and that she would have the moment to defend herself but it was then she felt herself hit the ground hard and being pulled along the rough surface. Part of her already ripped clothes grew ragged during the pull as she now had scrapes over her arms and her face from being brought back to Viscretus like a rag doll. Getting up to a position where was on all fours with her head looking down as she tried to catch her breath, Jania once again assumed she would have her chance to move and attack. Stuck on all fours when she felt the first crack of her vertebrae. Then another... and another and another before it finally stopped. She collapsed to lay on her stomach as she felt like she couldn’t move her legs at all anymore. Hopefully the injury wasn’t permanent but for now she knew there was no fight left in her. Viscretus had won and taken control of the situation.. she now controlled the way this ends and if Jania would even see the end of this. Was her destiny to die to in this tomb forgotten, humiliated, and worthless. The girl who left Home to join the Sith and feel accomplishment was about to die during her first day on Korrriban. Hearing Viscretus insult her and bring back memories of being considered worthless back home, Jania growled at the woman before her rebellious tone would be knocked down once again when she felt her pelvis snapped and she began to squirm and writhe in pain as she wondered why the woman hadn’t simply just killed her yet. Hyperventilating now, Jania felt intense pain as she tried to crawl the slightest before giving up and lying there. It was no surprise to her when she was choked out yet the girl didn’t have the strength to even hold her hands to her throat. Jania could feel her life to slipping from her but was actually grateful when the woman let her go once more. In the position where she could see the rest of the group she knew how pathetic she looked in front of the group now. Knowing she had to pick someone, Jania couldn’t move her arms or hands to point from her crumpled up position lying prone on the cold ground. Her eyes darted between her Master, Robyn, and the other Sith Lords and apprentices among them. When she finally had decided who she thought was the one, Jania’s head would turn ever so slightly so she could speak to the woman. “I...it....I..” Jania took a moment to catch her breath as she shed a tear hoping the woman wouldn’t notice. “I...ca...it hurts... it hurts...” She stopped talking once again as it was obvious she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Anyone would know she was about to fully pass out in a few seconds. Tag: Volshe, Darth Dreadwar, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Padawan4687, dice, Shira, Darth Catalyst |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Dec 6, 2017 2:29:26 GMT -5
OOC: With GM Darth Dreadwar approval
IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: "Pomojema's" Room, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
Jania could not have been any more stupid. This was far beyond anything Coatlec had done in this wretched tomb whether it be standing up to Viscretus or leaving the company or another instance. First she wanted to start a three way, "Yeah Robyn you would think that I would get at least a thank you or a smile back after all the compliments I have shot. At least this.... beautiful gorgeous women here recognized my intentions. Maybe I should take you both out on a date? What do you say about that Scionica? A three way..... as a date." Blasted hormone crazed kid. Viscretus coldly responded with something that Coatlec probably would've said himself, "If your carnal desires can simply not wait, perhaps you would do us all the favour of finding some abandoned passage...elsewhere?" This is precisely correct. If only I had said it myself. But it wouldn't end there. The idiocy kept flowing out of the mouth...or, well, loins of Coatlec's apprentice. "I would suppose you are right my dear assassin. What better first date could we have then this riveting adventure," she said before turning to Viscretus, "You know you think your hot stuff don’t you? Bossing people around, hurting my Master, spouting off your Sith nonsense on every wall... if you know how to get us out of here then just do it and stop commentating on everything going on with everyone else.. is your life that boring Viscretus? Stay out of my business and I stay out of yours... And for your information if I want to kiss a girl right here then I will. So whether you have a problem or not, shut the fuck up and mind ya business." By the Gods could she have been any dumber? Damn.
Robyn also said much of what Coatlec was thinking. But it would be Viscretus that would put Jania in her place. She threw Jania back against the wall and dragged her along the ground before shattering her spine and breaking her pelvis. Oh Force... "You will obey me, now. You will pick the one here who does not deserve to be Sith. You know who it is. Do not dally. If you do not...you both will die." I surely am not this Sith she speaks of, and I will make that known. It would seem that Jania wanted to make her answer, but she then fell unconscious. Now was Coatlec's time. "Unless one of you would rather defend her - or perhaps, even select on her behalf?" Looking toward Viscretus Coatlec responded with his now raspy, overly machine-like new voice, "Lady Viscretus, I shall choose on her behalf, as she has now fallen unconscious. I will prove to you that I am Sith, and I shall remain here."
Coatlec then turned to the armored Lord, Xirr, and raised his right hand. Without hesitation, a blast of red-orange energy came forth from the bastard Lord's hand, piercing Xirr's armor and bringing him to his knees. Not only would it be a mark of humiliation for Xirr, but a couple decades would be taken off his life. He was not dying, however. Coatlec reveled in the new life force that he had leeched off the young body of his now rival before saying, "After combing your thoughts over, Xirr, I uncovered a fascination of yours...my mother. Now she has never been in my life, but that's my mother, and you shall not have her, by any means. Did you think you could keep such a secret from me, wotyukwai? Now stand and fight, woyunoskut, and meet your destiny."
Ahahaha. I've finally done it! Some life force is now mine, though my body is still old. I feel revitalized now. And to make it even better, it was that worthless kark Xirr that I have humiliated. Hopefully he'll face me, or perhaps he is too scared. Hm. Perhaps I can force him to fight. He won't last long. Damn guy thinking he could ever have my mother. Ah well, he shall soon have his place in Chaos with the rest of the failed Dark Lords of the past. And I'm happy to give him that place.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Shira, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687, @lordjania, dice |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 6, 2017 2:34:24 GMT -5
GM Notification: dice demoted to Level 5.
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 6, 2017 3:14:04 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonChamber of Pomojema, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanApollyon stared, aghast. When divine Dreadwar had warned her of the rigours of command, she had thought her master exaggerating. The Emperor had painted a grotesque picture of Sith tearing at each other's throats like kriks in mating season, driven by base instinct and ego, challenging authority to suicidal degrees, courting their own deaths and ripping at team cohesion. The downfall of Darth Vassago, the schism of the New Sith Order into Red Sith and Black Sith, the Shadow War, the collapse of the One Sith into Two under Krayt and Wyyrlok... All of these cataclysmic histories in miniature, the same underlying currents playing out again and again in an inexorable flow towards Chaos, no matter how small the group. It takes more than a man to corral such a bloodthirsty murder of rot crows, the Emperor had whispered. It takes a god.
Apollyon was, at best, the hand of a god. And as she beheld Jania Kio's utterly blasphemous disrespect to her superior, as she beheld Darth Coatlec unnecessarily attempt to escape whatever condemnation Jania's words might have - but she didn't say a word, you idiot! - caused to fall upon him, Apollyon realised she was not worthy of the title of Emperor's Little Finger. She had failed in her fledgling attempt at leadership. Utterly and completely. Twice already, the team had focused its anger upon itself, as if eager to make the tomb of Naga Sadow the final resting place of them all, as well. And indeed, due to the permeating dark side energy that surely was fuelling such reckless folly it was entirely possible that was, in some, unconscious sense, the eager purpose. But Apollyon had to accept some of the blame. She had presented an open palm when she should have presented the fist. Zealotry of Zelashiel Crimson fire sprouted from her caramel fist as she ignited her crossguard lightsaber. Viscretus had taken care of Jania's impiety satisfactorily. Apollyon would not hesitate to punish the man who had attacked her dearest friend, who now attacked the good Lord Xirr unprovoked in another display of rashness, with savagery to match. And in that moment, something crystallised within Apollyon. It would be a realisation that she would not fully process until afterwards, but from the perspective of her future self she would look back on this moment as a turning point: the point when Zelashiel learned that to be kind, one had to be cruel. She would be as courteous and uplifting to her future apprentices as she felt a Sith who wasn't a base brute should be, but she had learned the hard way that to lead within a culture as vicious as the Sith one had to surpass the wickedness of one's inferiors, no matter how seraphic one's natural disposition. "Stop this madness in the name of the Emperor!" Snarling, Zelashiel lashed out at Coatlec, her frothing beam of unstable plasma screeching through the stale air as it sought the dry flesh of Coatlec's withered thigh in a slash she hoped would remove his leg from his body. TAG: @lordjania , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , Volshe , Shira , dice , Darth Catalyst , Padawan4687
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Dec 6, 2017 3:31:33 GMT -5
Name/Title: Xar/Darth Ashe Age: 44 Sex: Male Species: Anzati Homeworld: Anzat Occupation: Sith Lord Height: 6'8" Appearance: (Clothing and build, not lightsaber style)   Weapons: Several lightsabers, however his preferred combination is two single bladed orange lightsabers Equipment: Black robes, several Sith relics such as the holocron of Darth Sion and a talisman of ensnarement Transportation: "The Inquisitor"  Description of Abilities: Master of basic telekinetic abilities, and he dabbles in Sith magic as well Personality: Xar is a "collector," of sorts. He'll do anything to gain more knowledge and power, sometimes causing him to make a hasty decision that could lead to a negative outcome here and there. This may, in fact, come from his nature as an Anzati due to their species hungering for flesh like vampires. As such, he hungers for knowledge and relics of old. Biography: Born on the planet Anzat in 110 ABY, Xar became an orphan at a young age. Anzat had been ravaged by the many wars that reined across the galaxy through the ages. Xar always longed for more...more stuff...more power...more glory...more than just...Anzat. He began to find more when he was 10 when he fought off a couple thugs and discovered he his force sensitivity. He had heard the stories of the Dark Jedi, Volffe Karkko, of the same race. He vowed to be greater...more...than Karkko ever was. He donned himself, "Darth Ashe", at the age of 15, but is not terribly fond of that name. Wandering across the galaxy for the past 29 years, he's collected many artifacts of the Sith, training under the holocron of Sion. In his continued wandering, he developed an affinity for Sith magic of which he is still an amateur. He currently has no affiliations with any organizations, and does not plan on any. Level/Stats: Level 6 Sith Master Push/pull: 3 Choke: 3 Jump: 2 Lightning: 3 Defense: 3 Heal: 3 Mind trick: 3 Niman: 3 Force Drain: 3 |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Dec 6, 2017 6:20:45 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: "Pomojema's" Room, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
Coatlec seemed to have started a chain reaction. As of yet, there was only one, but from the way it came, Coatlec deduced that there was bound to be more. Well it seems I've started a chain of events. A bloodbath, so to speak. This should be interesting. Apollyon will be simple to pacify, I believe. Catalyst may jump in after her. It was at this moment that a blazing hiss came forth from Apollyon's hand as she ignited her blood red unstable crossguard lightsaber. It was reminiscient of a Dark Jedi, supposedly of Skywalker blood, that lived roughly a hundred twenty years ago and was supposedly lost to history. She moved swiftly towards him, saber ready to strike at any moment. Coatlec had been in many predicaments in this tomb, and this was certainly not the greatest of them. Perhaps I need contingencies for all Sith in this tomb. "Polly" is difficult as I certainly cannot use Force Drain on her. Lightning or any form of telekinesis would not be effective much either, I believe.
Then she swung! The swing was swift, but not swift enough to dismember the Force-augmented body of the bastard Lord of the Sith. She yelled at Coatlec saying, "Stop this madness in the name of the Emperor!" The Emperor I do respect. His hand I do as well, as an extension of his divinity over the Sith, but none other. All unless they earn my respect. None of the company here, sans Apollyon have done that. In the span of milliseconds as the thought crossed his mind, he grabbed his main lightsaber, that years before he had forged after the defeat of the Jedi Knight Arcass. The then green crystal would then feel Coatlec's unwavering pain and rage as he poured it into the crystal over the span of hours. Over this time, the crystal bonded to him, and it bled just as Coatlec bled minutes earlier in the passage of Vacuus. In so doing, the crystal turned blood red that it is today. With a snap-crackle the blood red blade ignited meeting Apollyon's unstable blade in front of Coatlec's thigh. He then began to speak, "I shan't go against the Emperor or his Hand's wishes." Let's hope my silver tongue can get me out of this one. He continued, "I respect your word, and shall stop all this, for the Emperor is supreme; he is divine. And what I did was rather rash."
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Shira, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687, @lordjania, dice
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 6, 2017 6:56:12 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonPomojema's Chamber, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban"What you just did cannot be undone," Apollyon hissed over the flaring of lightsabers as they violently crossed, her onyx eyes gleaming darkly in the reflected bloodshine. You think you're smart, don't you? That you can sweet talk the gullible woman out of this? Wrenching her miasmic blade from the 'saber-lock, Apollyon pressed the offense, feeling herself rise out of her body into the aether of the Force as she sought to manipulate the twines of energy around her, tracing each string of probability as she confronted the nexus of possibilities that her precognition instinctively provided. So effortlessly did Apollyon meld with the dark side that it was if her soul were altogether discorporate, merely puppeteering her body like a marionette as she went through the motions of stringing together a staccato sequence of elegant Makashi slashes and thrusts, searching the darkness for answers even as her blade searched Coatlec's defenses for faults. Probing for weaknesses. There.Apollyon directed a vicious stab towards Coatlec's abdomen, yet this was merely distraction; her true attack lay in the mind, as she projected her essence towards Coatlec's psyche as a screaming spear of midnight black, tearing through whatever mental shields the Sith Master could muster as if they were made of wet paper. Instantly, Apollyon was there, a painful splinter in the mind's eye, flooding Coatlec's consciousness with imagery of his own destruction. Illusory bats flapping around him, nipping at his face with their small vampiric teeth, mirages of Zelashiel's lightsaber giving the sense of a thousand attacks at once from every angle... and the single, overriding vision of his mother, Darth Talon, being kriffed like a common street whore by none other than Darth Xirr himself. TAG: Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , tomb players
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Dec 6, 2017 10:52:57 GMT -5
IC: Darth XirrStatue Room, Beneath Sadow’s Tomb, KorribanThe retribution came on in force, just as Xirr predicted. Jania found herself flung against the wall and then dragged as if she weighed nothing towards the disturbingly calm visage of Lady Viscretus. Xirr heard the sickening crack as with a twist of Viscretus’s ivory hand the bones in Jania’s spine began to break and splinter “You will answer me this.” Viscretus cooed softly “You are worth nothing. As memorable as the rotting corpses buried here. Meaningless. Useless. Forever so.”She stepped towards the crumpled form of Jania, lying prostrate on the worked stone at their feet. “...You will obey me, now. You will pick the one here who does not deserve to be Sith. You know who it is. Do not dally. If you do not...you both will die.”
Viscretus turned, facing the rest of them and allowing the acolyte breath again. Her violet lips pursed, flickering with the chamber’s miasmic green. “Unless one of you would rather defend her - or perhaps,” her skirts brushed the stone as she stepped around languidly, “even select on her behalf?” Xirr was silent in his observance. Until Coatlec piped up. “Lady Viscretus, I shall choose on her behalf, as she has now fallen unconscious. I will prove to you that I am Sith, and I shall remain here." The Bastard Lord turned to Xirr now, The armored Lord’s crimson gloved hands flew to the hilts of his twin sabers as Coatlec raised a menacing hand, however, he was not fast enough. Before Xirr could even attempt to ignite his sabers they fell from his grasp, clattering noisily on the stone floor. Xirr let out a mighty mechanical groan as his very life force was siphoned from his body. Xirr fell to his knees in pain, trying in vain to form some sort of protest “Yo- You!” was all he could muster as he felt himself losing his youth. His once taught skin fell loose and wrinkled, his youthful bones began to creak, and he could see from the corner of his eye within his mask, his once long dark brown locks of hair turned white and frail. For a combatant such as he, this was a fate worse than death, and Coatlec would pay for it. Xirr was glad when he heard the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber blade becoming unleashed upon the acrid air around them, and then the call of Lady Appolyon to follow "Stop this madness in the name of the Emperor!" She cried as Xirr lay still, helpless, unable to assist her in any way in her battle with the Betrayer Sith. Xirr was utterly defeated. Temporarily. TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Shira, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, @lordjania
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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 Dec 6, 2017 12:27:17 GMT -5
IC Lord Catalyst Pomojema Room, Beneath Sadow's Tomb
While Catalyst and the Lords nearest him were busying themselves with the puzzles of the room, it seemed that Coatlec’s new apprentice had similarly busied himself with Robyn and the assassin, Scionica. Catalyst had been ignoring all those who weren’t contributing to the task at hand but it seemed that Jania was not to be ignored. It didn’t take long for her to begin mouthing off to Viscretus herself. Well now this looks entertaining. He shifted his attention that way as Jania turned her back to Viscretus. Catalyst shook his head at her mistake. Viscretus was certain to teach the girl a lesson now. She was slammed against the wall and Catalyst could hear through the silence the individual snapping of bones as the teen became more and more disfigured by Viscretus’s telekinetic prowess. “You will answer me this. You are worth nothing. As memorable as the rotting corpses buried here. Meaningless. Useless. Forever so. I could leave you as one of them. Doomed to suffer until your very...last...breath. You will obey me, now. You will pick the one here who does not deserve to be Sith. You know who it is. Do not dally. If you do not...you both will die.” A great threat indeed, and one Catalyst was sure could not come back to bite him. He turned his head to shoot a smirk at Coatlec and saw the Lord raising his hand in Xirr’s direction.
"Lady Viscretus, I shall choose on her behalf, as she has now fallen unconscious,” Coatlec had the audacity to respond when this was not his fight, although Catalyst could respect his newfound responsibility for his apprentice. “I will prove to you that I am Sith, and I shall remain here." Tendrils of energy reached from Coatlec’s extended arm and lanced through Xirr’s armor, rendering the statuesque Lord a crumpled heap on the ground. Catalyst’s smirk was wiped from his face in an instant. There was no more respect or responsibility. Just Coatlec being petty again. "After combing your thoughts over, Xirr, I uncovered a fascination of yours...my mother. Now she has never been in my life, but that's my mother, and you shall not have her, by any means. Did you think you could keep such a secret from me, wotyukwai? Now stand and fight, woyunoskut, and meet your destiny." Catalyst pulled his saberstaff into his palm but wasn’t nearly as fast as Apollyon, who had already lunged at Coatlec and embroiled herself in a duel with the Bastard Lord.
"Stop this madness in the name of the Emperor!" she called out to him during the fight. Catalyst took the opportunity to cloak himself from Coatlec’s vision. If the Bastard wanted a fight, he was certainly going to get one.
"I shan't go against the Emperor or his Hand's wishes,” Coatlec spoke up during the ensuing duel. "I respect your word, and shall stop all this, for the Emperor is supreme; he is divine. And what I did was rather rash." Rash? Is that what you call it now? He crept behind Coatlec as Apollyon demonstrated the grace of Makashi and pulled his second saber out from his robes with a smirk. Let’s take you down another peg shall we?
As Apollyon lunged for Coatlec’s abdomen, Catalyst would seize his opportunity. There was no way Coatlec could defend against a two pronged attack. Catalyst aimed his emitters for Coatlec’s shoulders and ignited the orange blades into Coatlec’s back. “I should have left you dead in a room where nobody would find you.” There was a menace in his voice that Coatlec certainly had not heard before. “I show you mercy, save your life, and this is how you repay me? I think you were wrong in your appraisal. The only being unworthy of holding the title of Sith in this tomb is yourself.” He leaned ever closer to Coatlec’s head. “Perhaps your mother should have sired you from a far more worthy Lord. Typhojem knows she’s gotten more than her fair share of suitors to choose from.” He could feel malice growing in him as he invoked the Left Handed God’s name. He had chosen it specifically to cause discomfort in Coatlec. “Be thankful I took pains to ensure you remained an only child during my encounters with her. I can’t speak for the rest of the Lords in the Temple.”
TAG: Darth Dreadwar ,Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror ,@lordjania ,Volshe ,dice ,Shira
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Post by Deleritas on Dec 6, 2017 19:32:14 GMT -5
Darth Dreadwar, Character Summary: Name/Title: Birth: Gha Rahkts II Taken: Darth Deleritas Age: 16 Sex: Male Species: Human Homeworld: Trandosha Occupation: Sith Apprentice DOB: 138 ABY POB: Unknown Height: 5’6 Weight: 150 Hair/Hair Color: Blond hair. Short on the sides, long on top, and parted from left to right Eye Color: Icy blue/grey Skin Color: Caucasian Language: Basic, Trandoshan, Shyriiwook/Thykaraan/Xaczik Known Family: Human birth family unknown, Found on Trandosha and adopted by Trandoshan couple Master: Darth Solus (Human) (Male) Apparel: Ninja-like in appearance. Simple black pants and long-sleeve black shirt, Black soft-soled shoes, Mask with a small handful of technological capabilities, Hood that is only worn for intimidation or shadow and distortion Appearance: Deleritas is an adolescent human male with well-kept blond hair. Clean-shaven and rounded features. Heavily scarred from self-harm during a brutal 6-month long trip from his home planet of Trandosha to Korriban where he met his master, Solus. He is short in stature but, athletic and nimble. He wears simple black garb consisting of a long-sleeve shirt, pants, and soft-soled shoes. He wears a mask that he earned through a trial given by Solus and its primary function is to enhance his physical and mental capabilities as well as place a bridle/harness on the voices in his head (hence his name…Latin for insanity) Weapons: Typically armed with a staff saber that glows crimson and emits a sound that is eerily reminiscent of his vanquished foes. It has a special property, derived from the Kyber crystals that were used to power his saber, in that it takes in the last remnants of the life force of his dying foes. He is also trained and proficient on a wide variety of other weapons ranging from standard issue blaster rifles to sniper rifles and bowcasters due to his upbringing as a Trandoshan and their cultural emphasis on hunting. Equipment: Mission dependent. Deleritas has access to an assortment of weaponry in the compound that he bases his operations out of and tends to frequently change his loadout to give him the greatest possible advantage over his enemies. However, his standard load consists of his staff and a pouch containing food pods, fire starters, and a comlink. His mask is capable of thermal and night visions as well as acting as a gas mask and temporary oxygen filter for underwater situations (lasting for about 45 minutes in duration before a surface is required). Description of Abilities: Deleritas frequently elects to not wear armor due its tendency to be bulky and limit movements. His hunting background has given him an excellent sense of navigation and stealth in order to most effectively find, ensnare, and kill his prey. Personality: Stoic yet has trouble concealing some of his emotions; passionate; hard-working; strong-willed; eloquent in speech; extremely polite but not pretentious Biography: I never knew my birth parents. I have worn a leather necklace on which was attached a pair of twin crystals for as long as I can remember. They were merely an indication of who my birth family may have been. I didn’t know what the crystals were nor what their power was. Never have I asked anyone about them for fear of having them stripped from my possession. I only knew that the crystals would speak to me at night when I was trying to sleep and would whisper horrible things to me. Filling my subconscious with nightmares of the most unimaginable sort… Based on my human appearances, I assume that my parents hailed from somewhere on or near Coruscant. Yet, I was far from being a normal human. I had no interest in pursuing politics or being an entrepreneur. I didn’t wish to join the massive Army. However, I do pride myself on being a very skilled hunter. Having been raised by Trandoshans, I learned to hunt via our ceremonial rite of passage. We hunted everything. Jedi, Womp Rats, Wookies, etc. You name it, I probably have a mounted trophy of it. Don’t ask me why my adopted parents, Gha Rahkts and Nare Sham, chose to adopt me because, quite frankly, I don’t know myself. According to my father (for whom I am named), he supposedly went on his ceremonial hunting expedition and I was his selected prey. I don’t remember any of this but, according to my father, I was able to elude him. I foiled his every attempt at capture and slaughter. He told me there was something almost supernatural about my ability to avoid him. After all, I was only a toddler, there was no reason for me to understand any of what was going on at the time… I said my goodbyes and boarded the ship that was to take me to an undisclosed location. It was a small single-man ship. Similar to an X-wing fighter but, without the weaponry or the option for an R-2-unit co-pilot. Immediately after my boarding the ship, the voices that had only spoken to me in my dreams, began to speak to me and visions plagued my mind. Muttering unimaginable things. From the vilest of insults to mere schoolyard taunts. I saw images of the only two people I had ever loved, my mother and my father, being brutally tortured and murdered. For ages, I travelled in that cursed ship. For ages, I dealt with the images set before my eyes. For ages, the insults were screamed in my ears. For ages, the images got more gruesome and the insults grew more hostile until I could feel myself approaching the razor’s edge: the brink of sanity and insanity. I separated my skin from my bones; dug at my flesh like a schizophrenic with a razor blade. To this day, my fingers trace scars that lace up and down my arms; the scars that run up and down my legs; the scars that web across my chest; and the scars that distort my face. Scars that mapped out reminders of just how much I was able to take. I mutilated myself until I was nearly unrecognizable when even I looked at myself in a mirror. Daily, death crooned in my ear. Yet, no matter the torture or pain I put myself through, I got no rest. No relief, from every sensation that plagued me. Death was on the doorstep and yet, I was unable to let her in… Instantaneously, all the cloaked figures in the room rose and spun in my direction. Their bright red blades ignited. I ignited my blades and they all began to attack in a fury. The swift and seamless motions of acquired my blades cut them to pieces. A dense white fog began to engulf me and choked the life out of my cloaked enemies. The mists poured into my sabers changing each blade’s color to a deep blood-red. The steady hum of energy that was once emitted from the blades, gave way to a crackling and hissing, eerily reminiscent of the agonized wails of my recently vanquished foes. The fog cleared and I stood amongst hundreds of pure-white skeletons whose life forces had given in to my blades. The figure in the mask came down from the pulpit and quickly accelerated into a run towards me… Doubled-over, out-of-breath, sweating profusely, muscles-aching. I trained and trained and trained under the watchful eye of my newfound teacher. “Again” Darth Solus called. I continued with the exercises he had outlined hours earlier getting sloppier and sloppier with each attempt due to my ever-growing fatigue. But, I continued to press forward so as to not disappoint Solus and to prove that I will never give up. After all, persistence is one of my strongest qualities. But, I had never encountered training quite like this. Darth Solus combined intense physical tasks with learning all forms of saber fighting. All that compounded with my routine weapons familiarization and proficiency training, made for long and exhausting days. My day would begin before the sun rose over Korriban to awaken the planet. My first exercise after stretching and meditation was to run for as long as I could and as soon as I could feel myself getting tired to run faster and rely on the Force to carry me and I would run until I physically collapsed. Solus used the Force to flit alongside me, effortlessly, and would bring me back to our small compound for the first of three meals and a short hydration period. Immediately following this was self-defense and hand-to-hand combat training. Darth Solus was an expert in three forms of martial arts, anyone with said capabilities was labelled a deadly weapon by the Empire and could not provoke any fights. That being said, Solus would always say that while he may never start a fight, he’ll finish one every time… Level/Stats (for new players): Level 1 Sith Apprentice (8) Jump: 1 Push/Pull: 1 Force Cloak: 1 Lightning: 1 Mind Trick: 1 Defense: 1 Form IV: Ataru: 1 Form II: Makashi: 1
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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 Dec 6, 2017 22:01:27 GMT -5
GM UPDATE
IC Darth TalonHyperspace, En route to Dromund Kaas“Dromund Kaas,” the hologram of Darth Talon purred at Darth Solus, “You’ve heard of it I assume? Once it was the capital of the ancient Sith Empire, now overtaken by swamplands and unmarked graves. Your job, aside from surviving, is to find something: the remnants of the Prophets of the Dark Side. Legend says they were eliminated by Darth Sidious more than a century ago but Imperial Intelligence suggests they may still be active in pockets on the planet. You may know of one of their agents, though he doesn’t know himself that they chose him: Darth Catalyst.” A rotating hologram of the Inquisitor appeared before them. “Notice the tattoo embedded in his left arm. He doesn’t know the true significance of it but it’s likely that Emperor Palpatine and our own Lord Dreadwar did when they encountered him. That’s one of the marks of Darth Millennial.” The hologram shifted back to her. “Now our Emperor wishes to truly exploit the power of the Prophets. Lord Catalyst would accompany you himself but he’s otherwise occupied.” Was it jealousy that Solus would detect, if only for the briefest of moments, flashing across Talon’s features? “In any case, your mission is a simple one: find any surviving Prophets of the Dark Side and bring them back to Korriban. Your shuttle has been outfitted with holding cells in case they foolishly resist you. The Emperor was very specific about taking them alive. This could prove a suitable test of strength for your apprentice Darth Deleritas as well, should you run into trouble. Its likely that they're taking refuge in one of the abandoned temples that dot the planet. They wouldn't be able to survive the denizens of the swamps on their own. The Capital would be the wisest location to begin your search, as it likely has a map at the very least. Keep your wits about you though; Dromund Kaas is not a forgiving planet. Nor is Dreadwar should you fail him. Talon out.” The hologram winked out shortly before the Upsilon class command shuttle dropped out of hyperspace above the planet. “Lord Solus, Lord Deleritas,” RX-38T chirped back from the cockpit, “We’ve arrived at out destination. Please seat yourselves and prepare for landing proceedures.” Outside the viewports of the ship, the two nascent Sith Lords would see the dark blue-green sphere peppered with dead black spots. At one point, Dromund Kaas was a thriving hub, rife with activity on the surface and in the space surrounding the planet. Nowadays, however, the only activity was the wildlife running amok on the surface. The planet was absolutely teeming with life energy and the Dark Side radiated from it like a sun.  The jet black ship descended slowly through the atmosphere, dipping through the clouds like a bat and coming to rest on the ground in front of a great, abandoned metropolis: Kaas City. Where once was the hustle and bustle of beings going about their daily business, now there was only the sound of fauna and wind. Far in the background in the center of the former Capital stood the Citadel, towering over the six branching hubs of the once great city.  “We have arrived, Lords,” the plucky pilot droid alerted his passengers. “Please watch your step when departing.” The hatch opened and the acrid stench of rotting plant life met the nostrils of the Sith. A small lizardlike creature scurried away from the ramp as it lowered to the ground. The dead city loomed ahead of them, while behind the swamp threatened to engulf them in its oppressive darkness. TAG: Darth Solus, Deleritas,
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2017 23:29:57 GMT -5
IC: Darth SolusDromund Kaas, Outside Kaas City Solus stands atop the ramp unmoving as the bottom taps the damp dirt of Dromund Kaas, his hands remain intertwined behind his back. The his of hydraulics is a welcome sound. Always signifies the end of space travel. A slight smile escapes twists across his face at the thought. Although his mask hides such a feature change, he quickly snaps back to his normal demeanor. As he begins his decent he speaks over his shoulder to the pilot droid. “Thank you RX.”
Although just a droid the respect given was universal. As Solus takes his first steps he listens as the clicking of his boots on metal turns to a soft squish of dirt and mud. He stared into the Sith city. He could feel the dark power around the planet. Oh the stories this place has. He reaches down to his belt and feels for his two main sabers. Their hunger radiated as his fingers licked at the hilts. He turns sharply and his robes flow openly with his spin and his hands re-clasp behind his back.
“Deleritas, do your final checks and meet me outside. We have a plan to discuss.”
Solus drops his arms to his sides and shifts his head around loosening up his neck and shoulders. Lightning lightly tickles his finger tips. What a pleasure it is to be on such a dark planet. Solus quietly waits for his apprentice. Soaking up the dark energy around him and breathing in the electrified air that emanates on Dromund Kaas.
For the first time since arriving on the planet Solus notices the putrid smell. The sour aroma of death and sorrow. The painful history that lies here pains him, as does the fall of such a mighty empire. From the ashes of the past, we will rise with new fire. Failure as our fuel. He closes his eyes, sinking deep into a meditation. Allowing the dark energy around him to direct him. He searches for the first lead. He allows the force to guide toward the prophets, as much as it will. He whispers under his breath…
"Threx Nun"
Deleritas , Darth Catalyst
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Post by Deleritas on Dec 7, 2017 23:34:14 GMT -5
IC: Darth Deleritas Location: Dromund Kaas, Outside Kaas City I sat cross-legged inside the passenger bay, my eyes closed, meditating. In for three, hold for three, out for three. In for three, hold for three, out for three. This was my first mission as Darth Solus’ apprentice and it was apparent that a lot rested on our shoulders. In for three, hold for three, out for three. My subconscious controlled my movements and my thoughts so while I sat there preparing myself for the mission my fingers traced my belt. Gently caressing my loadout that in this particular instance was very light and standard, merely consisting of my staff and a pouch full of essential materials for no longer than a 72-hour period. Plus, my mask which its capabilities rendered me capable of many tasks that any normal would find near impossible. Night vision, heat vision, comms, and even an ability to breathe under water. Opening my eyes to the growl of Darth Solus’ voice calling for me to join him on the planet surface and gazing upon the grey, metallic wall of our transport, I recollected myself and stood up. I turned on my heel and swiftly made my way to the landing ramp, where Darth Solus stood. My dark, soft-soled shoes kissed the cold metal and didn’t make a sound as I walked to the exit and stared at the city that lay before us. I inhaled deeply and took in the smells of the planet, the putrid smell of dying and rotting plants flowed quickly into my nose, nearly making me gag. I listened to the variety of organisms that now flourished on the planet, running rampant, commanding the planet. Sweeping my eyes from left-to-right, I looked at city that once teemed with life; a city that was once a hubbub of activity for Sith. All that was left were the skeletons of towering structures and the overgrowth of flora that had slowly taken over the planet. My thoughts began to wonder…generating a picture in my mind’s eye of what this city looked like. Bustling with activity, people and humanoid creatures and aliens alike moving about and conducting daily activities. One day, the empire fell and everything changed; internal strife and pride led the general populace to abandon the planet. Thus, the deserted metropolis lie in the state that it was in currently. I snapped from my illusion as a flying creature whizzed by my face, bringing me back to reality. I silently and slowly made my down the ramp, once I disembarked I could feel the moist, nutrient-rich soil beneath my feet. I stood to Solus’ left and slightly behind him, as he was my superior. I looked up at Solus and waited for his command, he knew this city and planet far better than I did. I had little historical knowledge of the planet from studying Sith holocrons and the brief overview that Solus had given me. This was his mission. I knew what to do, but I could only do it when he gave the say so. Darth Solus , Darth Catalyst , |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Dec 8, 2017 0:23:33 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: "Pomojema's" Room, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
Apollyon quickly broke the saber lock that Coatlec had initiated after her cleave at his leg. She then spoke, "What you just did cannot be undone." Perhaps it shouldn't be undone. But as Coatlec carefully studied every inch of Apollyon's defenses and even into her psyche, there was something else coming Coatlec's way. Another combatant...? But nothing came of that yet. It was then that Apollyon made her next move. Not only did she stab towards Coatlec's midsection, but she began a mental assault on him too. They were visages of destruction, not unlike the visions he had seen just minutes before. But these were Apollyon's doing, not the void or the Force or whatever granted Coatlec power before. Coatlec parried her blade with precision before he began to see it. There were spiked bats, lightsaber strikes so fast, and even Xirr making love with Coatlec's mother, Talon. For a split second he held a slight fear, but he knew they were just visions. There are no spiked bats in a Sith tomb and she can't move that fast. He did, however, think about the last vision and how it would never happen as long as Coatlec lived. Even if it meant killing Xirr entirely. But he could wait on that. Xirr was a non-threat right now.
He then heard the maniacal hiss of two lightsabers igniting behind him. Catalyst. Seems I'll get to humiliate two of my rival Lords today. He pulled his saberstaff hilt off his belt and with a crackle one blade ignited to meet Catalyst's blades as Coatlec turned to have both combatants in his view. Catalyst then began his verbal assault of Dun Moch. He said, "I should have left you dead in a room where nobody would find you. I show you mercy, save your life, and this is how you repay me? I think you were wrong in your appraisal. The only being unworthy of holding the title of Sith in this tomb is yourself." There was a certain menacing tone in his voice but it was nothing couldn't handle. "Perhaps your mother should have sired you from a far more worthy Lord. Typhojem knows she’s gotten more than her fair share of suitors to choose from." But this time nothing happened as the Left-Handed God's name was spoken. Not everytime would the name above all would have the same effects. "Be thankful I took pains to ensure you remained an only child during my encounters with her. I can’t speak for the rest of the Lords in the Temple." This lit a fire under Coatlec that he hadn't felt since his earliest days as a Sith.
Rage.
"Darth Nihl was the most worthy Lord of Krayt's One Sith. I could not have asked for a better father from the Sith, but my mother, on the other hand, was never there. But she's still my mother, and you shall pay for dishonoring my father," Coatlec growled. With one eye still on Apollyon, Coatlec plowed through the frail walls of Catalyst's mind and found a weakness. Jidai. He deactivated his single lightsaber placing it back on his belt as he ignited the second blade of the saberstaff. As he lifted his left hand and swung it the now-middle-aged body of Darth Xirr flew through the air towards Apollyon, and images of Apollyon's death were impressed onto Catalyst's mind. But not death by Coatlec, no. It was death by Xirr knocking her lightsaber to her face and her laying there, bleeding out from the eyes. TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Darth Catalyst, and the rest of y'all
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 8, 2017 17:07:40 GMT -5
IC: Darth DreadwarInterrogation Chamber, Dungeons of the Sith Temple, Korriban For an intolerably stretched moment, the deathless spirit perceived nothing more than a silence stiller than the graveworld of Nilrebmah. It was if all the occupants of the torch-lit classroom had been stricken mortally, rendered mute by the fear that seized their shivering vocal chords, deaf by the eerie wind of the wretched wraith's glacial breath. And then, at long last, one amongst the peonic rabble braved answer the Emperor's question. Or rather, asked permission to speak. Very good, and as it should be. Despite the Emperor having asked the classroom to answer him, still this initiate tread the matter with caution; strong self-preservation instincts, honed by a million years of struggle upon the savannahs of Cathar, were clearly endemic to this one's frayed genes, however ill the evolutionary processes of the ancestral environment could prepare any organism for encountering a dark spirit that seemed to warp the very fabric of reality around it. The Sith Emperor turned from the cage slowly, the empty tattered cowl transfixing the feline with an invisibly pernicious gaze. But will you be the catspaw to my purpose, or feed for my jackals? "I already granted leave to ssspeak," the Emperor hissed, waving a gauntleted hand of shadow towards Arcane with evident impatience. TAG: Arcane
Combo with gorzan and darkhermitIC: Kint Dranlor, Lemmy and TarpyControl Room, the Ninushodojinyaut , dead spaceKint turned, slowly, staying perfectly silent. In his mind, he focused, shutting out panic, fear, and emotion. Cold, calm, rationality was all there was time for. Then, on the comms so that there wouldn’t be any noise, he said, “Lemmy. Turn around. Slowly.” Kint slowly moved his hands, his left, still gripping the rifle, moving up to aim at the beast, and his right going into his satchel, and gripping a grenade tightly. “Be ready to move. I can’t sense them, and my scanners aren’t picking them up. I don’t think they are alive. Burning seems to be a common thread for this ship. What do you want to do?” Then he spoke telepathically to Tarpy. Alright Tarpy, what do you make of this? Burn or run?Lemmy turned on his heel and pointed his cannon with military precision at the abomination that was adorably cocking its head at them. "I say," he whispered into the comm, "we just keep killing these little beasties." "And given you sealed the door, we don't really have anywhere to run!" Tarpy yelped in response to Kint, the sound of which seemed to intently draw the monster's dim eyes. With a low growl, the humanoid horror began bounding towards them, vomiting charcoal fluid towards Lemmy while swiping its clawed hand at Kint's leg. But its charge was not the only source of the clanking noises reverberating throughout the control room; there were many footsteps in the darkness, beyond the light of the computer consoles... Many...TAG: gorzan Darth Catalyst
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Shira
Administrator
.: Empress' Hand
Posts: 135 
Likes: 114
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Post by Shira on Dec 8, 2017 18:13:47 GMT -5
IC: The Twins
"Pomojema's Room", False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
Scionica’s eyes widened in surprise before grinning against Jania’s soft lips, the expression almost predatorial. Oh, but she was a bold one. The woman kissed the shorter girl back with equal passion, biting her lower lip. There was no need to be gentle; the girl had a fire of her own and she wasn’t afraid of showing it. Yet, as she stepped back and addressed the blonde witch, Scionica felt a twinge of warning and she frowned, suddenly nervous. The Zeltron girl’s furious shouts echoed around her, but Scionica couldn’t focus. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen.
The young woman flew through the air, Viscretus’ venomous words following her chaotic flight as she was smeared against the rock wall Scionica had been pressed against moments before. She kept her expression neutral but couldn’t help the flinches and winces that came along with every crack of shattering bone.
“You will obey me, now. You will pick the one here who does not deserve to be Sith. You know who it is. Do not dally. If you do not...you both will die. Unless one of you would rather defend her - or perhaps even select on her behalf?”
Scionica shifted tensely, avoiding piercing yellow-red eyes and Kevala looked quietly around the room, eyes landing on Coatlec. Her eyes, narrowed in furious judgement, grew wider with astonishment as he attacked another member of the group without provocation. “What in the seven hells...” she whispered, aghast. They were insane, all of them. None of them seemed to have any sense of self-preservation or common sense. We’re going to die down here, she realized. We are lost and not one among them has the ability to get us out.
The electric explosion of an igniting lightsaber filled the air and the caramel-skinned woman leapt towards Coatlec. The man she kept her eye on disappeared from view in the blink of an eye, only to reappear behind Coatlec, orange beams aimed for the man’s back. Blades of coloured plasma danced in the dim light, flashing around the room with dangerous choreography as the three combatants battled for dominance.
“He’s going to lose.” Scionica’s voice entered her ear gently as her twin came to stand next to her. “There’s no way he’s going to prevail against the two of them and I can guarantee he has more enemies at this point than friends with the foolish choices he’s made. I hope she wins. I like her.”
Kevala glanced at her sister in surprise, looking between her and the female combatant. Scionica didn’t like anyone. She looked at the woman, head tilted faintly as she tried to construe what it was about her that had won the approval of one who hated everyone. There was a faint edge of wildness that suited Scionica, the ability to change from disinterest to fury at the snap of finger. There was something else though, something Kevala couldn’t pin that filled her with unexpected nostalgia.
A tug on Scionica’s sleeve broke her focus on the battle. “Come, Sci. We need to find some way out of here or...”
“Or we’re going to die,” came the candid response. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” Keeping their attention on those around them, the two women began searching the perimeter of the room, looking for branching tunnels that might be their salvation.
TAG: Volshe, @lordjania, Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror, Darth Dreadwar, dice, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 8, 2017 18:37:23 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonPomojema's Chamber, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanDarth Apollyon rolled her eyes, as imperceptible as such a gesture would be given her now opaque black sclera consequent to the imperfect healing of Coatlec's nanites. The bastard wastes his breath and his time. Her master had taught her well; the only time a Sith Lord should distract oneself from the focus of combat to speak was to deploy Dun Möch. Given the rage outpouring from Coatlec's aura, Catalyst's needling wit had clearly poked at a sore spot, proving the worth of the technique, but Coatlec's defensive diatribe had not been crafted to provoke any such similar response. Yet sufficiently distracted was Apollyon in continuing her string of slashes and stabs, and in her own contemptuous lapse in focus, that she did not sense the body of Xirr coming until it was too late. The Sith Lady was promptly bowled over by the heavily armoured form of the Sith Lord, and she winced as her tailbone landed on the unforgiving stone floor of the sept. However the angle of collision had meant Xirr had not fallen in such a way as to pin her, and Apollyon quickly rolled away, shoving the Sith Lord off her as she rose to one knee, glaring up at Coatlec. There was now sufficient distance between them as to make attacking with her lightsaber unwise, and that was unfortunate. For Coatlec. Apollyon had hoped to merely humble the son of Nihl and Talon, for she was unsure of how his parents, even apathetic as they were, would react if she killed him. Yet swift submission at the point of a lightsaber blade had been taken off the table, and only a deadlier attack would bring Coatlec low now. So be it. Apollyon raised a gloved hand, glowing with crimson energy, towards Coatlec. It was a technique as old as the Trayus Academy of Malachor; just as aetheric bonds could be formed with other living beings through which strength and vitality could be directed, shoring up dispirited allies with the light of the Force, the reverse was possible, although much more difficult to learn. Such bonds could be drawn upon, and drained dry as a mythic vampire fed upon the veins of the victim in Tapani folklore. It was a technique Darth Dreadwar had taken to radical heights to consume an entire planet and derive immortality from the millions of souls he carried with him, a technique Coatlec had just been exposed to at the hands of Viscretus. " Auv contrarius, Coatlec," Apollyon said, "it is Nihl who shall pay for dishonoring the Sith Order with such a fool of a bastard!" A snaking tendril of energy was promptly pulled from Coatlec's chest to meet her outstretched hand, as she deployed the ultimately pernicious and unfortunately addictive method to defeat a foe. Apollyon let loose a profane gasp as the life energy of the bastard Lord flowed into her, filling her with the orgasmic pleasure of power. Trembling and throwing her head back, Apollyon cried aloud as the power took on life of its own, seeming to direct her to steal more and more in overpowering waves of clamoring thirst. It was all Apollyon could do to maintain her grip on the tendrils of the dark side, directing the Force Drain to leech Coatlec's power as opposed to his health; he would surely die if she took much more of his vitality, for although she could not see beneath his eldritch helmet, his skin was already beginning to wrinkle yet further, his already unnaturally aged internal organs in peril of shutting down. Returning her gaze to Coatlec as she rose to her feet, the malevolent tentacle of bloodshine energy winked out of existence as Apollyon ceased calling upon her power just in time, the Force energy she had stolen from Coatlec shoring up her own depleting reserves and allowing her to easily reach out with a telekinetic hand to strangle him. Mercilessly holding his windpipe shut, Apollyon sauntered over to the Sith Lord, letting her lightsaber fall to within an inch of his neck. Over the sparks and hisses of her unstable blade, Apollyon spoke, her onyx eyes falling on Catalyst, then each member of the team in turn. Her features carried a well-hidden trace of embarrassment at her prior lapse in decorum, yet her voice was taut with only anger. "He has attacked a Lord of the Sith, a member of my team by the graces of the Emperor, unprovoked!" She pointed at the prone form of Jania. "And she's a disrespectful peon who would have been killed upon the spot if she had dared fling profanity at my master." Despite her newfound commitment to shepherd the team through setting a properly deadly example, Apollyon found the brutality of whipping a band of Sith into shape in such a manner as was common among the sadistic Lords of the Academy still wholly alien to her nature. No, she would do what must be done if necessary, but she would let the sentence be decided... democratically... "What say we do? Kill them both?" The Statue of Pomojema
Meanwhile, the twins' search would produce no further results than that which were already known; the one, zig-zagging tunnel they had all come from, with the small hole in the wall above in which Catalyst had inserted his arm to no avail, and the unexplored passageway on the opposite side of the room, on the other side of the statue. However, their search did reveal one disconcerting fact. While all eyes had been on Jania and Coatlec, on the fight... had the statue... moved? Impossible, surely, and the statue was as still as it ever had been, but Kevala and Scionica would not be able to deny the report of their eyes: the statue was frozen with one foot now lifted off the pedestal, as if midway through descending from its perch, and the crimson crystals of its eyes were now glowering down at Apollyon and Coatlec. A trick of the eyes, or devilry beyond their ken?
IC: The Shepherd Pool of Knowledge, Beyond Shadows
Ramage would feel a hand, icy cold and clammy as death, fall upon his shoulder, pulling him back from the swimming visions entrancing him within the Pool of Knowledge. How long had passed, staring into its glacial depths? How many times had the galaxy cycled in its revolution? "It has been a pleasure," the shadow whispered in Ramage's ear, cruel voice dripping with mockery. "But it is time to take my leave." The Shepherd had not been able to come so close to the Siniteen Sith Lord before; it was if the mists were no longer holding the entity back, some invisible barrier broken. But aside from the threatening aspect of the Shepherd, there was no malice concentrated at Ramage; no, the malevolence of the Shepherd seemed wholly reserved for the galaxy Ramage was looking upon. "It was long time for the lands of death to bring ruin to the realm of the living, and I, the Shepherd of Nilrebmah's dead, shall now take my flock ascendant..."
The Shepherd's hissing words were riddles in the dark to Ramage, and the entity left no time for querying him, for the darkness was abruptly curdling, pulling away from Ramage and rising into the mists as a pillar of shadow. And then there was only the fog, and the Shepherd was gone.
But Ramage was not alone.
Lying on the shore of the Pool, as if she had always been there and yet never there at all, was a young woman. Even as Jania Kio lay unconscious in the tomb of Naga Sadow, her mind was elsewhere, unspooling into the welcoming embrace of the dark side, skirting the barrier between life and death. And her mind's eye was flooded with visions, of horrid tentacled things in the blackness, of a burning eye of fire with an hourglass pupil, of a skeleton clambering towards the very lady Viscretus who had so afflicted Jania.. confused imagery, impossible imagery... nightmares... And then thwack, more real than a dream, Jania Kio was suddenly lying upon wet grass, shivering cold, upon the shore of a glass-like pool in a place that was stranger still, full of grey fog that rolled upon the grass and obscured everything from sight. Everything, save for the alien figure in dark robes standing on the opposite side of the pool, only a few meters away.
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 8, 2017 18:37:53 GMT -5
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 8, 2017 19:54:35 GMT -5
COMBO WITH VOLSHE
IC: Hjörþrimul and SærliTIE Fighter tunnels, above the hangar of the Triumphant , hyperspace en route to the Nihil Retreat
Attack of the Technobeasts
"I can manage to... ah," the nameless Vahlan gasped, looking up at Shira with eyes bright with pain, "I can manage only to stay here, I think. I... I need a medical capsule. There's something wrong with me, I can feel it... in my gut..." As the man lay his head back on the cold metal of the tunnel's floor, closing his eyes as he lapsed into unconsciousness, Shira and Nox would both hear the unmistakable sounds of combat from up ahead, from the passageway the tunnel opened out into. The dozen charging Technobeasts had set upon the Imperials who had exited the tunnel. Whether in shock or horror, Alisha Tano had frozen in place, and she paid the price; the closest Technobeast swiped at her with its saw of an arm, slicing open the flesh of her bicep. It was a minor cut, luckily not deep, but as the Technobeast swivelled and attacked with its other forelimb - a skewer it stabbed towards her chest - it would be imperative that Alisha overcome her passivity. Særli, meanwhile, disappeared from sight, yet found that the cybernetic eyes of one Technobeast perceived his thermal signature even through his Force Cloak; fortunately, that same Technobeast fell, sparking, disabled before it could attack him, courtesy of Azarius' blast of Force Lightning. As Særli lobbed a sonic grenade towards the back of the Technobeast pack, his voice rang out from the empty air, "Watch out!" Hjörþrimul, familiar with his tricky methods, nodded and rose both hands before her, one directing a pyrokinetic gout of flame towards one Technobeast while the other concentrated the Force into an invisible barrier in front of the Imperials, designed to absorb the worst of the grenade's detonation while not sparing the shambling automata from deserved fate. Meanwhile, Sabba would be placed in deadly peril by Shira's method of clearing the hangar of cyanogen. Air was being violently sucked out of the elevator shaft, exerting a powerful downwards tug on Sabba that threatened to dislodge her from the wires she was holding in her ascent, before the magcon shield reactivated. In the passageway Sabba was attempting to climb towards, the tremendous power of Darth Vassago tore towards the Technobeast he faced, saturating the recycled air with the smell of ozone. As the white-hot lightning cleared, only the smoking remains of Hogrum Chalk, cybernetics scorched black and blood boiled to evaporation, were visible, clattering to the deck. He had not stood a chance. However, the delay the Technobeast had caused, in terms of forcing Vassago to reassume human form, had given the cultists more time to escape; their hovertrain was now hundreds of meters away, hurtling down the railjet tunnel towards destinations unknown. However, pulling up at the platform at the end of the passageway was another railjet, carrying cargo containers, offering Vassago the chance to perilously pursue standing atop its crates... or, of course, there was the option of pursuing in raven form.
TAG: Shira , Lord Vassago , Padawan4687 , Darth Voidwalker , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Dec 8, 2017 22:12:47 GMT -5
COMBO WITH DARTHRAMAGE
IC: Garn TarcrulusThe Artificer , hyperspace en route to the Stygian Caldera"I'm afraid I do not," Garn breathed, staring at the miniature holographic projection of the long-dead Dark Lord with reverence. It didn't matter how many he had seen in his life; there was nothing quite like staring at the flickering phantasm of a holocron Gatekeeper, just knowing you were on the cusp of receiving unlimited power and wisdom, if you were able to flatter, cajole or threaten well enough, that was... "Apart from Vectivus, maybe. A minor Sith Lord who rediscovered a very rare and obscure art of the ancient Sith, a technique to create corporeal Sith illusions labelled by Lumiya as... ah, what was it... Force Phantom, that was it. But hush now," Garn frowned. "We must respect the mighty Lord Ramage." The spectral projection of Darth Ramage glowered down at the three of them. "Emperor Dreadwar?" The Gatekeeper ground out, curiosity warring with anger in its modulated voice. "I know not this Dreadwar, and if he abandoned the Rule of Two then his accomplishments are as meaningless to me as your boastful bluffs," the hologram locked eyes with Voidwalker, "and your empty threats," it glared at Karina. "I will reveal my secrets to only the strongest of you. If you both are so confident, show me which of you is deserving of the secrets of the line of Bane. Fight ye one another... and to the victor... my strength." TAG: Darth Voidwalker , kurtishenschel
IC: Marchioness AnigmaBridge of the Great Reap, Odessen“The mirror is here, from what I’ve been told,” Hypnos began, after an inexplicable chuckle. “The Cathedral of Spirits, deep in its hold.” Hypnos closed his mechanical eyes, and Anigma could only guess he was tapping into the magic that she understood to be the divine breath of the Ari. It saturated Zakuul, and indeed all of the Ari's creation, but she had never been blessed to partake of such a beneficent gift. “Though it could be gone, likely stolen away. Where then it would go, I could not say.” Hypnos opened his eyes and looked at Raspir. “Perhaps, Lord Raspir, the Force grants you sight? If so I would bow to your mystical might.” Hypnos twisted his palm upwards, subtly manipulating the holoprojectors housed within and brought to life an image of the golden mirror that he had been granted before. “Our target is this, for those unaware,” he contorted his face into a smirk, if only to showcase another ability the Rakatan was incapable of. “Our lead’s the Cathedral, so let us start there.” "Yes, we shall start there," Raspir replied with his own chuckle. "And I shan't call it the Force. For it, to me, is magic. And indeed, Lord Hypnos, I shall use it to aid our sight. Some strange creatures will likely cross our paths, but we shall be ready. But for now, let us go to the Cathedral." The Great Reap needed no additional instruction. As its shadow fell upon the villages of Odessen, it consulted its vast databanks, sifting through untold millions of entries with the rapidity of an alien superintelligence. The Abominor had spent nearly two centuries in the Unknown Regions, having retreated back to their location of origin from the distant galaxy where the Yuuzhan Vong had laid them low, and as such the Great Reap had access to the collective findings of the fleet. It was not long before its subroutines flagged an entry of note: a Pius Dea Cathedral Ship, not quite so old as the Reap itself, had been sighted on Odessen by Abominor probe droids 14.6 years ago. Assuming this was the cathedral Hypnos referred to, the Reap promptly pattern-matched the scans recorded in its databanks with its detection of an anomalous, inactive hunk of metal caught in the gravitational pull of Odessen. ASSUMING ASCENDANT MANEUVERS, the Great Reap's internal vocoders boomed as it pulled away from the villages, climbing into the atmosphere of Odessen. CATHEDRAL IS LIKELY INACTIVE SHIP IN GEOSYNCHRONOUS ORBIT."Very well," Anigma nodded. "When in range, initiate docking procedures. We can investigate this... cathedral ship...? Restore power, look for clues in its databanks, perhaps." TAG: Darth Catalyst , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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darthramage
Citizen
*currently entombed*
Posts: 33
Likes: 39
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Post by darthramage on Dec 8, 2017 23:35:27 GMT -5
GM Approved
IC: Darth Ramage
Beyond Shadows
- Darth Ramage, at The Pool of Knowledge.
Ramage sprung backward, suddenly in the land of shadow. Indeed, the voice that had just broken him from his trance was no mere hallucination, The Shade was finally gone. In the distance, a small quivering mass of shadow began to rise. The Dark Lord was already wary of specters of this realm, gathering the dark side of the force Ramage lifted the body into the air. A small human girl floated towards the Dark Lord of the Sith. "What are you, girl." Darth Ramage sneered at the bruised form.
"How could a young human have found their way into this dimension?" The thought defied logic. He could feel the raw emotion pouring from the small creature, the foundation stones of the dark side. Fear, hate...love? Revenge.
"You are strong with the force, child. I sense a terrible sadness has shaken you, how is it that you have come before me? Are you one of the Shepherd's flock?" The Dark Lord asked, towering over the girl now suspended before him.
@lordjania ,Darth Dreadwar ,
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Shira
Administrator
.: Empress' Hand
Posts: 135
Likes: 114
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Post by Shira on Dec 9, 2017 0:19:10 GMT -5
IC: The Twins
"Pomojema's Room", False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
The Twins searched the perimeter of the room, but their efforts were fruitless. The only way out was the way they had come in and the one that no one had yet explored. Pessimism and resentment dripped from both women and they glowered at the rest of the party, furious they had been stuck with such a psychopathic, unpredictable group as this. Kevala turned as she heard Scionica sniggering cruelly, following her gaze. An answering grin lit her face at the sight of Coatlec suspended in the air, seemingly gasping for breath as Apollyon snarled at him.
A green glint caught her eye and she turned, freezing in shock. The statue...it had moved. She blinked once, twice, trying to convince herself that nothing had changed. A fantasy created by the chaos in these tunnels, perhaps? The position did not change; she was forced to embrace the strange reality of the situation. Grabbing Scionica’s upper arm, she redirected her attention and nodded towards the effigy. She felt, rather than saw, Scionica’s pitch-eyes widening in astonishment.
"What say we do? Kill them both?"
An inky brow arched upon Kevala’s pale face, regarding the triumphant figure with surprise. Since when had this become a democracy? Bewilderment aside, she shocked herself by answering. “Spare them both. I haven’t been here long, but I’ve seen enough to know that girl hasn’t been given the proper tutor. Useless though she may presently be, she deserves a chance with a different teacher, one who will impress upon her the...importance of hierarchy and respect. As for the bastard lord...” A smirk twisted her features. Every bit of information about an individual was important and she revelled in this personal knowledge.
“Kill him,” Scionica spat distastefully. “He’s proven too much of a loose canon to be of any purpose. None of us are safe with his foolish decisions and temper tantrums.” Kevala waited silently, knowing her twin had a valid point, even after her vehement distaste for the man. But on the other hand...
“If you can control him, we need him. There is supposed safety in numbers, but he’s too spasmodic to be trusted. If you can find a way to restrain his erratic nature, well...it seems that while we’ve all been fascinated by your battle, something else has taken interest.” She trailed off, instead pointing towards the effigy that was reaching ominously towards the three combatants.
TAG: Volshe , @lordjania , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror , Darth Dreadwar , dice , Darth Catalyst , Padawan4687
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