Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private A Cowboy, a Jedi, and a Temple


Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | Z240 Revolver [Right Hip] | Kriin Sentinel [Cross-Draw Holster] | AM-67 Lever-Action Rifle
Tags | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal

Bringing a booted foot down, water from the swamp floor splashed up onto Tod, soaking his duster's skirt. Tod grunted as he was pushing through thick leaves and low-hanging branches, being guided by the device in his hand.

"Couldn't they have chosen a nicer planet? What about a sandy one, or a grasslands one! Just anything but mud and trees that I have to fight through. It feels like they're trying to kill me." He yelled to nobody in particular.

He suddenly stopped, drawing his revolver and spinning to point at something obscured by the trees. His arm aimed steadily at it for before he noticed it was not moving. Tod slid the revolver back into its holster and returned to his complaining as he pressed forward. "Now I'm threatening to shoot bushes, don't know if it gets lower than that."

Eventually the end of the bog came into view, supplying him with a new drive to escape the muddy grounds. His pace quickened until he stood at the edge of the marsh, looking out at the temple. While he had seen many Jedi Temples, they never ceased to surprise him. Looming over the landscape, standing against the passage of time.

How ancient is this one?

Tod glanced down at his boots. They weren't going to dry on their own, and standing around wouldn't help. He resumed his march toward the temple. Regardless he'd soon be meeting a few other individuals who had signed onto this job, which was the standard artifact retrieval.

The clearing in front of the courtyard was empty, save for cut stone steps, embedded in the earth acting as a path. Fortunately, it was drier than the swamp, the sunlight making it look warm and inviting.

"Should've probably taken a gun running mission, would've been more fun than dealing with this." Tod grumbled, brushing leaves and twigs off of his uniform. He didn't much care for what the temple held, only signing on as security for the group. Regardless, he wouldn't have known what he was looking for inside anyway. All the Jedi 'magic,' as he called it, seemed like a fancy way to cheat in a fight, making battling all of them boring.

It seemed he was the first to arrive. All he'd been given was a time and a location, and he'd shown up a little early. Walking to the nearest rock, he dropped down and settled in to wait for whoever else would be joining him.


 

New-divider-Anneliese.png


Items: Lightsaber I Engagement Ring I Outfit X X II Equipment X X X I Theme Song I Bloodline Tattoo

Todblaz Graker Todblaz Graker

The humid air clung to Anneliese like a second robe, thick with the scent of moss and decay. Her boots pressed firmly into the softened earth, each step silent but sure. Behind her, a small unit of Alliance troopers fanned out in formation, their armor splattered with streaks of swamp water and leaf grime. She led them without hesitation—shoulders squared, chin high, and eyes set with quiet determination.

Her Jedi robes were traditional in silhouette but customized for purpose—her outer tunic was cinched tightly at the waist, while her undershirt was a sleeveless tank, baring her toned arms. The metallic trauma bands over her biceps and forearms gleamed dully beneath the canopy's filtered light, a silent testament to her readiness for war, not ceremony. Her long, wild red hair was bound loosely, curls sticking to her freckled, sun-warmed skin from the hike. She didn't mind. It felt honest.

As she emerged from the treeline and into the stone clearing, the ruins loomed ahead—weathered, cracked, but powerful still. She paused, letting her eyes drift over the ancient structure before her. The Force hummed here, soft but insistent, like a heartbeat buried under centuries of stone and memory.

She spotted him quickly.

A man slouched on a rock, soaked and scowling, brushing at leaves with the frustration of someone who'd been fighting the terrain more than the mission. Her gaze lingered on the dripping hem of his coat, the mud clinging to his boots. She didn't laugh—she knew well enough the swamp didn't play favorites.

Anneliese stepped forward with even strides, the soft clink of her trauma bands the only sound as her unit paused behind her. She stopped a few paces away, hands resting calmly at her sides.

"Swamps aren't kind," she said simply, voice low and clear, "but they're honest. They don't pretend to be anything they're not."

There was no mockery in her tone—just observation. Her emerald eyes met his, steady and unflinching, not sizing him up as a threat, but measuring his mood, his readiness. She nodded once, respectfully.

"I'm Anneliese Kaohal. Padawan-lead for the retrieval." A glance to his gear. "You must be the security lead. Good to see someone made it on time."

There was a warmth to her expression now—a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth—but it didn't soften the way she carried herself. She stood like someone used to action, not ceremony. Turning her gaze to the temple ahead, she exhaled quietly, the weight of ancient stone and hidden truths settling on her shoulders.

"Hope your boots dry quickly." She said it almost offhandedly, before stepping forward again, leading the way toward the entrance. "We've got work ahead."

 

Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | Z240 Revolver [Right Hip] | Kriin Sentinel [Cross-Draw Holster] | AM-67 Lever-Action Rifle
Tags | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal

The sound of movement caught Tod's attention. Instinctively his hand moved to the revolver at his hip. Looking up, he spotted what he assumed was a force-wielder, it was the clothes that gave them away. In all his travels, he'd seen most Jedi and Sith wear casual robes that provided little protection.

I guess cheaters do have a little bravery.

He kept his hand on his pistol until she spoke. The tone of the encounter seemed to be shifting in a cordial direction.


"Swamps aren't kind," she said simply, voice low and clear, "but they're honest. They don't pretend to be anything they're not."

"You know," Tod began, "that sounds like a roundabout way of saying you heard my complaining."

He stood up so as to not be rude, but realized, when he had to look down, just how short she was. She didn't even look old enough to be on this job.


"I'm Anneliese Kaohal. Padawan-lead for the retrieval." A glance to his gear. "You must be the security lead. Good to see someone made it on time."

"That would be correct," Tod said behind his mask. He reached onto his back, unslinging his rifle, checking the chamber to make sure it was loaded and primed.

"You seem a little young to be doing a job that needs security. Is this like some Jedi training thing?" He made a dramatic gasp, "Are you going to sacrifice me to retain your youth?"

Though she wouldn't be able to see it, he had a devilish grin under his helmet. He assumed that he was there for safety, meaning this job would be a breeze.

Knocking what mud he could from his boots, he followed her towards the temple.

"Lead the way little lady."


 

New-divider-Anneliese.png


Items: Lightsaber I Engagement Ring I Outfit X X II Equipment X X X I Theme Song I Bloodline Tattoo

Todblaz Graker Todblaz Graker
Anneliese slowed her pace when Tod caught up beside her, the humid air swirling faintly with each of their steps. The jungle pressed in on all sides—thick, watchful. Her boots made no sound against the moss-slicked stone, though the occasional squelch from behind reminded her that not everyone moved as easily through terrain like this.

She glanced at him sidelong as he cracked his joke, her expression unreadable at first. Too young. Training mission. Sacrifice. The words rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, likely a man used to getting ahead of discomfort by deflecting it with wit. That, or he was testing her. Most did.

"Careful," she said at last, tone cool and dry as the edges of her mouth curled faintly. "Call me 'little lady' again, and I'll leave you in the mud. Let the swamp have you." She didn't stop walking, didn't even look at him directly when she said it—but the gleam in her eye, the ghost of a grin, gave her away. Not angry. Just letting him know the rules of engagement.

The canopy opened slightly overhead, shafts of golden light breaking through and painting the mossy stone in fractured ribbons. As they passed beneath, the ruins began to come into full view—towering slabs of stone choked with vine, runes etched deep and worn smooth by rain. The Force thickened here. She could feel it prickling at the edges of her senses, like breath held just beneath the surface.

Anneliese exhaled quietly, adjusting the grip on her belt as her fingers brushed the hilt of her saber out of habit. Her voice came again, softer this time.

"And no," she added, glancing his way. "We're not here for blood or trials. Just retrieval. Though if the swamp decides otherwise, I'd appreciate not having to carry you back." She let that hang in the air, not mocking, just matter-of-fact. Her pace never faltered.

"Stay close, Tod. These ruins… they don't always wait for ceremony."


The vines rustled in the wind ahead as she stepped into the threshold of the forgotten temple, the dark yawning open before them like a sleeping beast; and still, she didn't hesitate.

The shift in air was immediate.

As Anneliese crossed the threshold, the oppressive heat of the swamp gave way to a cool, damp stillness. The scent changed too—earthy stone, aged metal, and something older still, like ash long settled in the cracks of memory. The sound of boots echoed faintly against ancient tile as the unit filed in behind her, the soft clatter of gear suddenly loud against the silence. Light filtered in only so far before being swallowed whole by the dark.

They entered a wide antechamber—vaulted ceilings lost to shadow, pillars crooked with time and wrapped in lifeless vines. Broken murals adorned the far wall, their stories fractured and half-forgotten. Faint inscriptions pulsed with residual energy, unreadable but not without meaning. The Force was thick here. Not hostile—but not welcoming either. Watching.

Somewhere deeper within the structure, a low metallic groan rang out—something shifting against stone. Not wind. Not the building settling. Something alive.

Several troopers froze mid-step. Weapons came up almost in unison, safety switches flicking, eyes scanning the gloom. Training took over—but so did unease. The dark ahead offered no target, only the promise of something just beyond reach.

Anneliese raised one hand, palm open, fingers spread. A simple gesture—firm, deliberate. Hold.

The movement stopped them more effectively than any barked command. The sharp sound of safeties clicking back into place echoed softly as the men steadied. She didn't look at them. Her focus was elsewhere—fixed on the darkened corridor ahead, where the sound had come from.

Her posture hadn't shifted, not outwardly—but her eyes told the truth. Narrowed. Focused. Listening.

"There's something already here," she said, voice low but certain. "It knows we've arrived."

Then, slowly, she turned her head just enough to glance at Tod over her shoulder. Her eyes met his—not searching for reassurance, but sharing weight. Not above him. Not beyond him. Just beside him in the silence, two different strengths answering the same call.

She gave the smallest nod. Quiet trust.

 

Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | Z240 Revolver [Right Hip] | Kriin Sentinel [Cross-Draw Holster] | AM-67 Lever-Action Rifle
Tags | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal


"Careful," she said at last, tone cool and dry as the edges of her mouth curled faintly. "Call me 'little lady' again, and I'll leave you in the mud. Let the swamp have you."

Tod held up his hands defensively in apology, his rifle sling swinging wildly in the process. The goal was to have a bit of fun and gauge a response. Everyone responded differently to jabs, and he believed he had just found this one's sore spot.

Instead of dwelling on it he held his rifle in a low-ready position, observing the surroundings. His mind stopped taking in any unnecessary information, remaining vigilant.

Her voice broke him out of his short trance.


"And no," she added, glancing his way. "We're not here for blood or trials. Just retrieval. Though if the swamp decides otherwise, I'd appreciate not having to carry you back."

"Thank god," Tod smirked, "do not want to deal with that mess again." This was a blatant lie, but his games weren't up quite yet.

She spoke again and he tightened formation a little. Though Tod assumed since he was right by her he wouldn't get sucked off into another dimension or whatever the temple holds. He knew magicians have their tricks, but they couldn't be that powerful.

His boots crunched on the tile as they entered. A small click emanated from the side of his helmet as he turned his headlamp on. Looking around the mouth of the beast, he reslung his rifle, opting for a more casual stance as he walked. The chamber wasn't big enough to warrant the excess of that rifle, his pistols would serve better.

While not seeing or noting any movement, there was a sense of unease. All the years he had been working told him that this was a set up. However, spinning on the heel of his right boot in a circle, he couldn't figure out where a strike might come from.

He was about to walk past his new Jedi acquaintance but noticed her hand up.

Seems this one is old enough to have at least some instinct.

He put his hands on his belt and stood still, continuing his survey of the surroundings, his light cutting through any shadows that may have been made.


"There's something already here," she said, voice low but certain. "It knows we've arrived."

"It?" Tod asked in his normal relaxed tone, "That implies something scary." He said turning to meet her eyes with the red glass that covered his.

Let's hope 'it' doesn't have teeth.

A grin grew under his mask as he clicked off his headlamp and returned his eyes to surveying around.


 




The moment her boots touched the tile, Anneliese felt it — not through the Force, but beneath it. A wrongness that didn't scream so much as pull, slow and silent like undertow beneath calm water. The air felt thinner, yet heavy. Her brows drew together.

She raised a hand, a subtle motion to halt the man at her side. Tod paused immediately. Good. He listened.

This place wasn't just old or corrupted. It was starved. The Force thinned to a thread, like breath caught in the throat. She reached for it, instinctively, and felt the edges of something hollow brushing against her senses — not malevolent in the way dark spirits often were, but hungry. The kind of hunger that couldn't be reasoned with.

Her jaw tightened. She'd felt something like this once before.

The Nameless.

It wasn't the same. Not quite. But close enough to make her blood remember. That same void-like sensation… that crawling emptiness that chewed through identity and stripped you of everything that made you you.

Her stomach turned quietly at the memory. She could still recall the way it had felt trying to draw breath under that influence — like gasping in a room without oxygen. This wasn't that. But it was akin. Echoes of an old terror reborn in a new shape.

She turned her head slightly, voice low and even. "It’s watching us Tod — stalking."

Then, louder — projecting enough for the squad nearby to hear, urgency heard beneath her tone: "Fan out in a ten-foot radius. Heads on a swivel. If you see anything — anything — you call it out. No wandering. Stay in pairs and do not go far."

The troopers moved without hesitation, forming a tight, cautious perimeter. Lights flickered on, cutting shafts through the shadowed ruins. The hum of gear, quiet comm clicks, and boot scuffs filled the tense silence.

Anneliese moved ahead, drawn toward a bend in the corridor. That same gnawing sensation dragged her thoughts forward — like the thing they were chasing had already brushed past them.

And then she saw it.

A figure, half-slumped against the base of a crumbling archway. Not one of theirs. A man, from the look of him — maybe early thirties, explorer gear. His skin had gone waxy gray, his body slack, but there was no blood. No visible trauma. Just… nothingness. Like life had been pulled out from under his skin and discarded, like marrow scraped from a bone.

She crouched beside him, gaze narrowed. His eyes were still open, clouded but fixed in a stunned, frozen expression. As if he'd seen something in his final moment that defied all explanation — and it had taken him for it.

She stood slowly and turned to Tod, voice lower now, controlled.

"He didn't come in with us. Someone got here earlier. Alone."

A beat. Her eyes lingered on the corpse. "Whatever's down here doesn't just kill. It feeds."

Another pause, breath slow. Steady. "We need to be careful. And fast."
 

Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | Z240 Revolver [Right Hip] | Kriin Sentinel [Cross-Draw Holster] | AM-67 Lever-Action Rifle
Tags | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal

Tod's HUD flickered as he turned on his white phosphorus night vision system. This was in the vain hope that whatever 'it' couldn't see in the dark, but with the diverse galaxy that was a gamble.

His left hand moved to the hilt of a bowie knife, while his right thumb rested in a cartridge loop near his cross-draw.


"It’s watching us Tod — stalking."

"'It' is still vague, Miss Jedi," Tod said, looking around the room. "Can you give me more to work with?"

A beast would be easy, they're typically driven by instinct, easy to predict. A Sith however... probably why they offered hazard pay.

He watched as the entire formation tightened around him, their lights illuminating the area across the room.

They seemed well-suited for this mission, maybe my sacrifice joke wasn't that far out.

He followed her, with his relaxed posture, rounding the bend until he spotted the body leaned against the archway. The waxy gray hue of the corpse told Tod that the body was more recent. The skin had not even peeled off. That or this temple was unnaturally dry.

His Jedi friend crouched down next to the body, causing him to prompting him to start scanning the room. He didn't really need to analyze the body to recognize the situation. The man was dead, and the frozen terror on his face more ominous than anything in the temple.


'It' must've terrified him to death.

"Whatever's down here doesn't just kill. It feeds."

"Well, I'm in no mood to become chow," Tod said, glancing over her head, still searching for the danger. "So let's make this quick. Lead the way."

 



Anneliese didn't answer Tod right away.

She stood still, eyes fixed on the shadows beyond the corpse slumped against the archway. The Force around them was dense, not in the chaotic way a battlefield felt — but purposeful. It pressed in with the slow, steady weight of something ancient and watching. Measuring. Waiting. Whatever lived in these ruins wasn't just dangerous. It was aware.

And it was hungry.

She straightened, slowly rising from her crouch as her ash-colored cloak whispered along the cracked floor. One hand drifted near her belt, fingers resting against the cool curve of her lightsaber hilt. She hadn't drawn it — not yet. But the moment was getting close.

"Keep your lights close. Don't wander," she murmured to the troopers around her, her voice low and calm, like the stillness before a storm. "It likes the dark. It waits in it."

The squad obeyed, shifting tighter into formation. Their shoulder-mounted lamps flickered along the walls and ceiling, carving brief shapes into the shadows. She could sense the unease rippling through them — muted breaths, twitching fingers on triggers, the kind of fear that didn't show in posture but in the soul.

Then it came.

A sound slithered through the air — a breath, deep and wet, dragged along stone. It came from above, not ahead.

Before anyone could react, one of the troopers — the youngest, she realized — was yanked upward with a sudden, brutal force. His scream cracked through the silence as his body vanished into the ceiling vaults, his weapon clattering uselessly to the floor.

Anneliese surged forward. There was no hesitation, no calculation. She sprinted toward the nearest wall, vaulted off a collapsed support beam, and ran up the side of the crumbling arch with the help of the Force. In a blink, she launched herself onto a jutting column and caught the trooper's hand just as he flailed from the dark above.

Their fingers locked. For a second, she had him. Then she felt it — whatever had him wasn't just strong. It was playing with her.

"Don't you dare—!"

She cursed, trying to pull him back with everything she had, but it was no use. The grip slipped. He was torn from her hand with an audible pop of dislocated shoulder and armor-strapped joints. She landed hard, skidding into a crouch as warm droplets hit her face and arm.

Blood. It had sprayed from somewhere above.

There was no sound now. No breathing. No footsteps. Just the hum of the lights and the pounding of her heart.

Then, with a snap and hiss, her lightsaber ignited — the yellow blade cutting through the dark with a fierce, defiant glow. She didn't speak at first. Her expression was set in grim, quiet resolve. This wasn't panic or grief — it was focus. A predator's stillness.

Finally, she spoke, voice stripped of softness.

"Stay close to me," she said to the remaining troopers. "If you hear anything—anything—you shoot. Don't wait. Don't think. You shoot."

Her gaze flicked to Tod, the blade's golden light casting sharp lines across her features. Her voice lowered, colder now, carved from fury and purpose.

"You wanted to avoid becoming chow right? Why don't we flip the tables...its time to hunt. I'm not going to die here."

And somewhere deeper in the temple, the shadows stirred again — pleased.
 

Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | Z240 Revolver [Right Hip] | Kriin Sentinel [Cross-Draw Holster] | AM-67 Lever-Action Rifle
Tags | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal

Tod felt it, whether it was instinct or some of the Jedi's Force rubbing off on him, the tension had become palpable. He spun on his heel, scanning the surroundings, trying to figure out what was about to happen. But he had no idea. He didn't know what he was up against, didn't know how to kill it, and especially didn't know if it could die at all.

Then it happened, the stirring of the shadows.

As the soldiers tightened their formation, Tod remained in his relaxed posture, still watching. He heard the strike before he saw it: a sound from above as something grabbed a soldier. Tod spun, drawing from his right side, aiming from the hip at the figure being lifted.

The Jedi beat him to it, ruining his chance at a clean shot. He moved quickly, repositioning to get a better angle. The Jedi and the beast fought over the soldier like a cruel game of tug-of-war.

Tod found his opening as the Jedi's grip slipped. He couldn't see the creature clearly, but he fired a single shot at where he thought it was.

He didn't see if it landed.

Still, he kept his pistol trained on the spot until blood began to fall. None hit him directly, but some splashed on the ground, sending droplets onto the hem of his coat.

Sliding his pistol back into its holster, he turned to the Jedi and offered a hand (if she needed one.)

"So what exactly is trying to eat us?" Tod said, his voice being inappropriately casual for the events that had just transpired.

He stood still for a moment, watching the others, scanning the area. He had no intention of being the next one pulled into the dark.


"You wanted to avoid becoming chow right? Why don't we flip the tables...its time to hunt. I'm not going to die here."

Tod clapped his hands once, letting out a single, sharp laugh. "You ever hunt big game before?" he asked, unslinging his rifle. One by one, he removed the standard rounds, replacing them with yellow-tipped ammunition.


 


She took Tod's hand without hesitation.

It wasn't about need. It was manners — instinct woven through war-bred discipline. A gesture that said I see you before she turned from him and toward the dark.

The antechamber swallowed light and sound like it had never known either. The air was still, but it pressed in close — like breath held too long. Like something was waiting for them to take one step too many.

Anneliese walked until the last of the torchlight failed, and only shadow remained ahead. She didn't stop because she was uncertain. She stopped because she was listening. Feeling.

Then, without ceremony, she drew her saber.

The yellow blade came to life with a low, deliberate hum — not a flash of panic, but a claiming of space. The glow pushed into the corridor, casting long shadows up ancient stone. It revealed the age-worn carvings, the marks etched by claws, the cracks filled with dust and time.

"If it likes the dark," she said quietly, "then it doesn't get to keep it."

The light spilled into corners it didn't belong, and still, the dark pressed back like a living thing.

Her eyes stayed forward, sharp with focus.

"I've been in temples like this. Not this one — but close. The kind of place that remembers what it killed."

A pause. The scent of old stone. The distant sound of something shifting where it shouldn't.

"There was a mission once. A recovery. Jedi went in strong — a full team. Shields high, sabers ready."

She inhaled through her nose. Slow. Controlled.

"They didn't come out."

She didn't tell him where. The place didn't matter. The pattern did.

"There are things that live in places like this — or maybe they become the place. They don't kill fast. They take their time. Drain you. Strip the Force from your bones until there's nothing left but dust and silence."

Her saber remained at her side. Lit, but still. Like a torch. Like a warning.

"This one's studying us. Watching. Every sound, every pause. It's learning. Patterning."

At last, she glanced back at Tod — just for a moment.

"But it's not the only one who knows how to hunt."

And something changed in her then — subtle, but unmistakable. A shift in posture. A stillness older than war. Something ancient and wild that lived in the marrow of who she was.

"You asked if I'd hunted big game."

A slight grin touched her mouth, too sharp to be soft. Her eyes gleamed — golden, feral in the light of her blade.

"I am big game."

And then she opened her other hand — slow, deliberate.

Fire sparked to life in her palm, dancing low and bright, casting flickers across her features. Controlled. Precise. Ready.

She looked at him fully now, the glow of saber and flame turning her into something otherworldly.

"Ever hunted boar?"

She tilted her head toward the corridor ahead, voice like a challenge wrapped in velvet.

"Let's smoke this one out."



 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom