Am I Dreaming? [Primeval dominion of Sernpidal]

[Boethiah]

Somewhere in the immensity of dark space secrets lie in wait; wanting to be discovered. Sernpidal by name is meaningless to those who've forgotten its history and the world itself was lost to obscurity; known only to that which inhabits the eastern fringes of wild space and the unknown regions just beyond the outer rim.

One such secret lost to the memory of the greater galaxy lies on this very world. Under the Host Lord's guidance, The Primeval seek out knowledge in a recently unearthed temple following the wake of the Netherworld crisis.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. ​

​

The footsteps of the small group echoed throughout he stone carved chambers. Intricate patterns, tales and histories, were etched into the pillars and walls. With these champions of sorts, distinguished figures within Anja's psuedo-empire, were a small escort of guards and soldiers. Helping hands really as there's no sign of any inhabitants.

"Over here! Over here!"

Unison of exclamations boomed over the ambiance of animation.

"We've found something!"

​

"Is it valuable?"

"I don't know stop touching it!"​

​

The argument was halted by the Witch's entrance. The journeyers who followed were left to their own device; some lined the walls and others went off on their own business. Pale eyes glared to the two Gulandi imbeciles, Sephi who lost all apparent sense of wisdom. "Don't be fools with such artifacts, your hands are not --"

-SNAP-​

​

Two clumsy hands activated a small switch along the left side of the triangular object he held. A shiver went down Anja's spine as she began to feel drowsy and into a hebetudinous condition before falling comatose. Her now latent body collapsed as would others around her soon feel the same sensation... It was cold, yet comfortable; being in a state where you cannot help but close your eyes where you stand.

Whispers... Everything seems to be forgotten as the trite pleas fell short of any meaningful outcry. Then any remaining sounds fell into utter silence. No concept of time could be kept in the catatonic slumber but the memories of yesteryear seemed to vanish completely. Awaking in place as if she never was asleep, Anja found herself standing back on the place of her birth. In the confines of her first home, standing in front of her was an Umbaran man, a figure who resembled -- no, it was -- her father. That's right.. It all makes sense! The Host was successful and The Primeval have finally ascended, the world is without sin... The prophesy foretold came true.

"How could I have forgotten?"​

​

MUST READ

Spoiler

There are NO objectives for this dominion! We're purely exploring the possibilities of roleplay and character development. If you're confused by the pretense, we're currently in a temple on Sernpidal and some imbecile decided to activate a strange artifact that threw everyone into an illusionary existence. Pieces of our past life become real here and are connected through a maze-like and dull illusionary world.

Spoiler

The idea here is that the illusionary existence is feeding off of your insecurity by providing security, the more you accept its reality the harder it will be for you to break out. So I strongly encourage you to roleplay out of your character's insecurities and desires... If they hunger for power, put them in a position where all their wildest dreams came true. If they're homesick, put them in the comfort of their home and under the watchful eye of mom. Things like that, get creative. Be imaginative.

Of course this is all the product of Sith Magic, and the artifact will be destroyed at the end of the event. Sorry for those who want it. However, those who participate in it will get a reward, don't you worry... Other than an awesome story of course

Alright, RULES AND STUFF

Anyone with an EVEN user ID cannot tell this is just a dreamworld. You believe everything you see and hear by the product of the illusion and cannot differentiate from the truth without outside persuasion. ODD user ID folk are aware from the start -- whether it's sudden or gradual within your first post is up to you.

The goal is for ODD user ID folk to find and convince the EVEN ID people that this is all a dream and then find an escape route together.

About over halfway through the dominion we'll finally escape this dream. The details of that will be announced in one of my posts

Any questions? PM me. Alternatively I will set up a discussion thread in our faction's forum.

Note: if you have a droid character, PM me.

 

[Armand Temi]

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom the witch initiate only had a moment to hear the excited cries of discovery in the Sernpidal temple. Then there was silence and a SNAP!

Suddenly the sun was bright, the skin on her shoulders bronzed, the hot wind threatened to topple her over unless she rooted her bare feet into the dirt. Going from dark to light forced her pupils to contract uncomfortably and she needed to shield her eyes from the glare. It took Perla a moment to realize where she was but when she did it all came flooding back. She was standing atop the Great Canyon looking out over her original Dathomir Clan’s village with its recognizable sights. The view stunned her in its familiarity and like a child, she wondered at it breathlessly. Look down, Perla! There was the workshop where you built your first bow and arrow with which to hunt your first Verne! At the time, the young witch had also been expected to carve up the beast, cook its meat, tan its hide and construct boots of leather from the animal. She chuckled to herself thinking of what a willful, stubborn child she was, feeling momentarily sorry for the Clan Mothers who had to coerce her into all of that work. The memory was from so long ago that she could only remember fragments – the agonizing cry of the Verne when she sliced into its neck, salting the skin before it could be tanned, her skin stinging from handling the rough rock salt. Unfortunately as Perla grew older that stubbornness had been replaced by laziness and procrastination. She still had to be dragged or enticed or bribed to do anything these days but there was no pleasure in knowing that her strong will had nothing to do with it. She just couldn’t be bothered most of the time.

These wayward thoughts were interrupted by another recollection of what she had done in the same workshop she now gazed upon. Once she grew old enough, perhaps twelve or thirteen, she would experiment with alchemy fundamentals in that very same jumbled space, even if she didn’t understand what she was doing yet... and what power she yielded at a young age. Alchemy had seemed so foreign, so arcane, so unattainable …. until that night. The night which would change her fate forever and open the door for her exile from Dathomir, a shameful, sorrowful exit from her parents, her clan and at times her pride if she thought about it too often.

But she was back on her home planet now! How and why didn’t matter because there was the rancor stockade! And there the slave quarters! And even from up this high, her tanned feet steady on the uneven surface of the canyon, she could see the various talismans, piles of unique rocks, which had been placed around the clan homefront. All so familiar to her but yet forbidden to her for many years too. She bit her lip and ran a hand through her dark brown hair which smelled vaguely of dust and campfire. The only thing she could assume was that the Daughters of Allya had convened, each Clan Leader giving a rallying speech on why Perla Pirjo, Exiled Witch Great Canyon Clan should be allowed to return home again!

Perla pried herself from the breath-taking view and looked for the easiest path down into the enclave where the huts and tents were. She moved so fast, her feet stumbling over the steep declines,that she needed to be careful she didn’t pitch herself right off of the Canyon. That’s how eager she was to return to the home she had once been banished from.

 

[Tyro'din]

Tyro'din only has a moment to let out a low, rumbling growl and curse the fool that had activated the device, before his body became to heavy and he fell to the floor, his cane clattering down next to him. He felt the comforting cold lulled his eye closed and he settled into what felt like a deep sleep.

The next instant he was standing in front of a peaceful looking garden. Surrounding him on three sides were long, single story wings of a manor while in front of him stood the three story main building. The walls looked to be made out of wood and helped blend into the garden as if nature itself had given birth to them. The garden itself was beautiful. Three quarters of it was filled with exotic looking plants grew on large patches of land, intersected by a gravel pathways that filled the ground like a spiders web. The final quarter was nothing more than carefully cut grass. At the centre was a large pond that had what looked to be koi fish swimming. Standing tall next to the pond was a tree that towered over it, branches bending to their own weight, dipping into the water. Underneath the tree, almost hidden by it, was a simple wooden bench.

Shifting to slightly, wanting to get a better view, Tyro'din froze when he felt his clothes shift against each other. The clothing he wore on missions would never do that, he's made sure of that, it would ruin stealth if they did after all. Looking down he was shocked to see himself wearing high quality, silk robes, the type of which he hadn't worn since he was he was a Minister on Bothawui. Feeling a sudden panic he started to pat himself looking for his weapons, only finding a few carefully hidden knives and the hidden knife in his cane, which he now realised he had been leaning against the whole time.

"Shelk, are you okay?" A deep, caring tone rumbled from behind Tyro'din who turned around in shock at being addressed by his given name. He slowly took in the image of the older Bothan in front of him. Golden hair, flecked with grey, slicked back over his head. A three piece suit, made using high quality material, clung to his stocky frame. Caring, deep red eyes peered out at Tyro'din. The image of Senrak Tef'din, Tyro'din's deceased father.

"F-father." This was all the usually composed Bothan could stutter out, his mind wiring as it tried to figure out what that artefact had done before a feeling of calm fell over him and blanketed that process. However deep in his mind warning bells rung.

Tyro'din cleared his throat and smiled, masks that he had worn since the age of 12 falling in the presence of his Father, the man that had helped shape him and guide him into his position of Minister of the Treasury and a Seat on the Council. "I'm sorry, Father. I have no idea what happened. Shall we return to the celebration?" With his cane Tyro'din gestured to the main building of the Tef Family, head of the Din Clan, Manor where he knew a celebration was happening between family, celebrating his new position on a Seat. "You just want the alcohol. Don't cha boy?" Senrak barked before leading Tyro'din in to the manor.

It never occured to Tyro'din after that new calmness fell over him that the last time he had been in the Din Clan Estate he had watched it burn after his whole Clan had been killed in a coup, organised due to the Din Clan's dislike of the weakening superiority that came form The Way, something traditional Clans did not like. Nor did it occur to him that the last time he had seen any member of Tef Family 12 and over they had been executed in front of him nor that the last time he had seen any member of the Din Clan aged, again, 12 and over they to had been executed in front of him. No, to his concious mind, that had never happened. His sub-concious mind was a different matter.

 

[Laguz Vald]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=30&v=ytdE5Spy-RQ​

In xir earlier, wilder years, Laguz had learned to practice caution when treading upon unknown ground; that unspoken rule became doubly important when said ground was some unexplored, abandoned tomb of Force knows what. Now, had the shifter been running point on the first team instead of some incompetent, ham-handed fool, their fate that day might have been different. As it was, however, the sniper wasn't anywhere close enough to the center of the chamber - and the artifact, in turn - to react in time, and so their ragtag group of religious fanatics, zealots and cold-blooded killers was plunged into the cool grasp of Qâzoi Kyantuska, lulled to sleep by an ancient illusion.

Who… mama?

Laguz narrowed xir eyes (black, something isn't right) as xe stared at the approaching figure, body soft and unresponsive (like putty. what the hell is going on?). Lethargy had steeped xir deformed, dissolving flesh as if xe'd been dipped in some sort of acidic solution (didn't I use that last week? or was it last month? why can't I...

"Hello, dearest."

The Hell. Mama doesn't talk like —

"Laguz, why won't you look at me?"

— and her eyes… ?

"Darling. Don't you miss your mama?"

By the 7.62!

Laguz ducked below the encroaching arms of xir 'mother', making a grab for the combat knife xe kept in xir abdomen at all times. As xir body resumed shape again, the shifter elongated an arm to plunge the serrated blade deep between Mama's 4th and 5th rib. The hunter's aim was rarely off, and xe struck true this time as well; the edge scraped against the bone as it sank into spongy, malleable flesh, blood bubbling up around it as it pierced the heart. The shifter caught the falling body of the woman as it stumbled into xem, gasping for life, and let it gently down on the ground.

Black became blue and then orange and finally green again, settling on something that least reminded xir of the skin xe used to wear. Laguz watched Mama fade away - quite literally - and xir gaze followed the ash as it was swept off the barren earth by a howling gale. The silver slivers danced in the air, guiding xir stare to the sun-gilded mouth of a canyon. Its walls were steep and red, the strata of the rock clearly discernible from one another. Warm brown of decomposed leaves bled into the creamy color of chocolate, and then lower still reigned blood-stained mud, dry and cracked from the heat of a nameless star.

And there, stumbling down a stone-strewn path, was a figure, comically small against the backdrop of the looming red gorge. What was she rushing towards? Death? There was nothing but sharp rocks reaching for the thin strip of the sky above, their roots buried in the riverbed of a forgotten river.

Laguz groaned, rubbing xir forehead with xir palm as xe stood there, torn between two options. 1) Stay and watch as the person in the distance becomes a study in abdominal anatomy. 2) Drag self over the stretch of wasteland and avert that sad, if morbidly amusing fate.

Another groan.

"Oh, fine!" xe threw xir hands up in the air with an annoyed huff, kicking a stray pebble in front of xem with excessive force. "Guilt trip me more, will you, Mama?" Xe pointed an accusing finger at the spot where the body used to lay, mouth hovering open as if xe wanted to say something more. With a shake of xir head, the shifter changed xir mind and stomped off towards the ravine, bloodied knife in hand.


[member="Perla Pirjo"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

https://soundcloud.com/relaxdaily/relaxing-music-meditation​

​

​

My eyes wandered,​

Upon the open waves,​

I felt the breeze of the wind,​

Coursing through my hair,​

I was alone.​

​

This whole world,​

Was at peace,​

It was because of me,​

I led them,​

As everywhere else fell,​

...dark.​

​

I am the light of this world,​

I protect them,​

I led them,​

I teach them,​

I raise them,​

I love them,​

Yet even as I give to them,​

Must I still?​

I fight them.​

​

These are no simple times,​

But they have been the happiest,​

Of my life.​

​

In the distance,​

Walking upon the shore,​

I see a figure,​

All too familiar.​

​

Her hair is dark,​

Her skin fair,​

Her eyes green,​

Her dress billows in the wind,​

Her stomach protruded,​

Her child within.​

​

My loving wife,​

My child within,​

My family,​

My dream...​

​

My dream.​

 

[huggin_munnin]

Walking into the temple, Ceska had no warning before she heard a click and the sleep took her. As if she were boneless, she sagged to the ground. Her breathing was deep and regular and her body completely relaxed. Dreams came almost right away, as real to her as if she were awake. This is what she saw:

Ossus, she was on Ossus. It was beautiful here, the sun shone, the songbirds wove melodies on the warm breeze. Calm and serence, full of life, like the Force that enveloped her. She wore a gentle smile as she knelt in meditation. Opening her eyes, she felt the distinct presence of her Master. Former Master, she corrected herself, still in disbelief. She had been knighted just days ago and the gravity of the honor had not fully impressed itself upon her.

"Hello, Master," she said as she stood, beaming. The middle-aged Rutian Twi'lek male returned her smile, his eye crinkling at the corners.

"Hello, Ceska," came his reply in his smooth, rich voice "Already looking to become one of our Seers, are you?"

His tone was light, and indeed she laughed at his jest. He had been of the Guardians, always on the frontlines in the defense of many worlds, for over twenty years. He well knew that his former apprentice would follow in his footsteps. Ceska had the deepest of respect and admiration for her teacher, and he had come to be like her father. Her Master had guided her through troubled times and, without him, she wasn't sure if she would ever have been knighted.

"I will be like you, a protector and a Guardian of the weak."

His smile widened, a proud father. The blue-skinned Jedi Master was big, standing 1.95m and wide across the shoulders. He reminded some of a bear, if bears were blue and had lekku. He was a rather gentle bear and many little beings, first afraid of his size, had loved his gentle nature. However, in the occasional instance where his lightsaber need be drawn, he was a ferocious and skilled warrior.

"Good, Ceska. The Republic always has need of strong defenders."

"I...I wouldn't be here without you, Master, a Jedi Knight," she said with some wonder at the last part. "I owe so much to you."

"I only guided you, Ceska, you were the one to do what needed to be done." he said.

She laughed, shaking her head in wonder but grew serious soon after and sighed.

"Now I have to be a Jedi. I don't know what I will do without you."

The Twi'lek reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder, a gesture of reassurance.

"You are ready. You passed the Trials and you would not have if you weren't. Look to the Force for guidance, always, and don't be afraid. It cannot steer you wrong if you truly listen."

 

[Kitsune]

Darkness shrouded the periphery of her vision. Four black figures stood blurred amidst the pale grey background. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the area, focusing on the figure in front of her. A shocked female dressed in a medic's uniform. Her face advanced forward, blotting out most of the background.Her hair fell down from her head, its tips dipped in crimson blood. A hand went through her hair, before haphazardously removing a small flashlight from the harness of her heavy belt. A muffled click, as if the sound was submerged underneath a deep pool of cold, dark water, before Kitsune's vision was overwhelmed by a flash of bright white light. Then, everything faded into darkness, before another flash reappeared. And then everything faded into darkness once again..

She felt the coldness underneath her body. The ground began consuming the heat from her body, and she shivered instinctively. Slowly raising her left hand, she rubbed her eyes before opening them. It was nighttime, and Kitsune could roughly make out the sharp edges of fabric folded above her, creating the interior of her pavilion. Removing the coarse, thick drab blanket from the top of her body, she swung both her legs to the left and planted them against the floor. Her body followed the momentum of the swing and she sat in silence for a few moments. Her mind, slowly rejuvenating itself to normal activity, perceiving the soft howling of the wind. The tent undulated slightly as a gust of wind passed over it. She grabbed the two soiled, black leather military boots next to her bed and smacked them against the foot of bed. Dried pieces of dark matter, its composition unknown, fell from the bottoms of the boots and a cloud of dust bloomed around it. Slipping her feet inside of the boots, she arose from her bed finally before taking her few steps.

She wobbled for a moment, losing balance and mistepping in the wrong direction. Pain shot through her temples, staggering across the base of the brain before plunging itself into the core of her cerebrum. Kitsune grabbed her head quickly in response, shutting her eyes closed. A bright flash of white light passed through ethereally before fading back to the original black backdrop of her consciousness. The pain receded, before Kitsune took a few steps forward and kicked open her foot locker. Taking out her combat armor from its interior, she slowly donned it on. Each carapace, each plate, and each component was placed with great deliberation, eventually composing of an imposing figure of war.

Walking over to the small table on the other side of the tent, she took off a metallic canteen from its face. Kitsune opened it quickly and took a swig of its contents, before reaching into one of her pockets and taking out a small plastic pill bottle. Unscrewing the top quickly, she took two out and popped them inside of her mouth, then swallowed them together with another swig from the canteen.

“Kitsune...” A man outside the tent interrupted the silence.

 

[Lucullus Lacar]

Lucullus blinked, his attention returning to the targeting screens in front of him. He twitched command stick for the console in front of him, forever reassured at the responsiveness of the targeting systems related to his commands. He watched the reticule of the guns tilt left and right as he commanded it.

He was on a routine training run with the Hapan fleet, aboard one of their leading Battle Dragons. Currently a Lieutenant, he commanded the primary batteries of starboard defense turrets, with five others his subordinates. He glanced left towards the captain and his console, forever envious; he had only one half of the ship, and only the a salvo of guns - he longed to direct the vast superstructure of an entire ship, knowing the enormous battle ready beast was at his beck and call, responding to the slightest twitches of a flight stick. He pulled his longing gaze back to his own small console, constantly checking and rechecking for anything on the horizon - despite knowing there was nothing. He checked down the line of his fellow gunners, ensuring they were at full attention at their own stations - any negligence on their part was down to him, after all.

He sighed, allowing himself another small respite while he subconsciously directed the reticule in a few lazy cycles before letting it reset to dead center on the terminal screen. He rolled his shoulders, hearing in the background the familiar buzz of an intercom and a short message come barked through. He paid no attention to it until an order for him was shouted out.

"Lieutenant Lacar, vessel command is yours; Midshipman Romathis, control of your defensive line is yours."

Lucullus returned with a rushed "Aye, Commander!" and scrambled to position, leaving his console for his second in line as his much more opulently dressed commodore descended from his position and left the bridge.

He eagerly sat in the vast command seat, the chair seamlessly compensating for his height and weight, adjusting accordingly and settling him perfectly and comfortably in front of the controls, bringing him in close enough to grasp the flight stick and the throttle, and adjusting the angle and height of each analytic screen to be perfect for his eyeline. He felt a sort of power wash over him that he had never had before. He had piloted small-scale fighters, of course, but they were run-of-the-mill, one size fits all craft. This? This felt like the boat was perfect for him, like it was bespoke, tailor-made and checked and re-checked for his measurements. This wasn't some mass produced craft built for whoever, to be thrown around and destroyed in some unfashionable manner, this was his boat. He loved it already.

Tentatively, the flight stick tilted left, rolling the Hapan Battle Dragon a few degrees port-side, the planets in front of the cockpit shifting slightly quicker in the opposite direction. Lucullus spied a Midshipman sending an inquisitive glance in his direction, which snapped him out of his reverie long enough to really start paying attention to what was in front of him.

He immediately began running the diagnostic checks he had been told were crucial - weapons controls were manually held by the complements of gunners port and starboard; planetary scans revealed no threats; spacial scans threw up no obstacles around them; shields were at full capacity and both crew and hanger rosters were reading well with no departures or missed roll calls.

He remembered the regular objectives of training exercises, a patrol of the Hapan core worlds, and live-fire tests of defensive armaments around the ship. He angled the flight stick towards the routine flight path, feeling the entire starship respond to the first feather light touch, tilting, turning, elevating towards where he told it to go.

Lucullus solemnly swore to himself that one day, maybe no day soon but one day, he would command his own beatiful boat - because he worked for it, not because his commander had somewhere else to be.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla found the path to the village entrance, and with its glowing familiarity, if she were blindfolded she would be able to remember every step, every turn, each doorway, bed, and fire-pit. But she knew exactly where she wanted to go first. To the Clan Mother Zivka’s hut which was conveniently in the center of the Great Canyon village. Yes she wanted to see her parents and desperately at that, but with an enormous sense of gratitude she wanted to thank Mother Zivka personally for allowing her to return.

The village was empty but Perla looked at the placement of the sun in the sky and reasoned that the Great Canyon Clan was out on a group hunt. Only a grizzled, toothless witch gave her a smile as she sat, tanning hides outside of her hut. As the Dathomir witch grew closer to Zivka’s hut, she wondered if her Clan's hunt was to honor her homecoming. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Perla, she thought. Don’t jump to conclusions that you will be given a parade and a key to the best house in the enclave for just showing up in the village after seven long years. And if her exile was truly over, she knew there would be detractors who were not happy at her reappearance.

Manju for one.

No Manju would not be pleased at all. And why should she be pleased to see the witch who had killed her only daughter one full mooned night with the walls of the Great Canyon around them, enveloping them in silence and mysticism? No, more realistically Manju would like to wrap her strong, tan hands around Perla's soft neck and crush it until her bones snapped.

 

[huggin_munnin]

She had just been knighted days ago.

'No, no I have been a Knight for...' she thought, the details hazy. She simply knew it was the case that she had been a Knight for several years. She had even taken her own Padawan, a young Togruta....

"Master?," came a young female voice, snapping her back to reality.

"Yes, Asha, I'm sorry. I just felt..."

"A vision, Master?" her voice held a tinge of wonder. Asha To was just thirteen, apprenticed to Ceska just under a year ago, a Togruta female tall for her age much as her Master had been.

Ceska shook her head "I don't know. I felt something strange, a glimpse perhaps of another life. Nonetheless, we should pay attention to the present. Be mindful, my Padawan."

She smiled to soften the rebuke and Asha smiled in turn, both turning their attentions to the desert in front of them. They were on Tatooine, on the border of the Dune Sea as the natives had so named it. They had been sent here, tasked with seeking out what had caused a great disturbance among the Sand People. Normally, the natives of nearby Mos Espa would have ignored such things but they had claimed there was something strange afoot.

In order to pacify the locals, the Council had agreed to send a Jedi to investigate. Ceska and her Padawan had been travelling in the vicinity of Tatooine and thus were tasked with this duty. Personally, Starshield thought it was just a minor scuffle among the Tuskens and a bunch of overly nervous locals. After all, the Force had revealed nothing amiss to her when she had reached out as far as the eye could see and beyond through it.

It was some hours later with the light failing that saw Ceska land her speeder near a canyon. They would camp here in the shelter of the rock walls and the next day would see them off a bit further. The Jedi Knight expected to find nothing amiss, and this to be nothing more than a sightseeing tour for her Padawan. By nightfall, the camp had been set up, a fire glowing and Master and Apprentice eating ration kits and sipping tea.

"I don't know, Master, why send us out here if there isn't anything wrong?" Asha was saying.

"Because it reassures the local population and wins us favor amongst them. Remember, this is still Hutt space in name, but they're a prospective world for the Republic." Ceska explained "It's as much about politics as anything else."

"Politics are boring, I'd rather use my lightsaber," said the Togruta, patting her lightsaber.

Ceska smiled at her apprentice, who sounded just like herself at that age. "Yes, they are boring, Asha. They are needed to preserve the Peace, though. Remember, we are Guardians first and always. Our lightsabers should never be drawn when there is a chance for peaceful resolution."

Asha nodded gravely and Ceska winked. "That's why we have a diplomatic corps, anyway. I would probably fall asleep during those negotiations."

The young Togruta grinned widely "Me too."

Ceska's head snapped up suddenly, causing her Padawan to start. "What is it, Master, what's wrong?"

Setting her cup down, Ceska stood and, without taking her eyes off the distance she said to her Padawan "Be ready, Asha, something is wrong."

Ceska unhooked her lightsaber and the Padawan followed suit, falling in behind her mentor as Starshield carefully made her way into the pitch black of a desert night. Breaking a glow rod, the stick cast a neon light for several meters around them, as the elder Jedi stopped.

"I don't feel anything...," began the Padawan

"Focus, Asha, feel." she said.

The Togruta closed her eyes and did so. Her eyes snapped open several seconds later and Ceska nodded.

"It's...," began Asha, not having the words to describe the feeling, having never sensed such before.

"Wrong, yes. It feels like..."

Ceska was cut off as the darkness beyond the neon glow was suddenly bathed in a crimson light. Her eyes widened as there stood a human male, shrouded in black.

"A Dark Jedi!," exclaimed Starshield, igniting her own lightsaber. Asha gasped in horror but she too ignited her own blade a second after her Master.

"No, Jedi," came his deep voice, dripping with both scorn and amusement "Not merely a fallen member of your Order."

"The Sith are..."

He laughed "The Sith will never die, but you will!"

The shrouded figure burst out of the night's darkness, a blur almost imperceptible as his blade came at her in a powerful, sweeping slash. Ceska barely got her blade up to make a clumsy defense, staggering back under the awesome weight of his blow. Again and again he came, forcing her to give ground, her Padawan standing impotently to the side, eyes full of fear and concern. Asha was powerless to intervene, so tightly were her Master and the Sith.

The Sith's yellow eyes shone in the darkness, revelling in the thrill of battle. He laughed as he drove his opponent back ever closer to the rocky wall of the canyon. "After I kill you, I shall take your little Padawan and teach her true power!," he said with a vicious smile.

"No!," Ceska roared, her fear and anger rising as his Dun Moch tactics came into play "You will NOT have her!"

He laughed maniacally as they came into a saberlock "Yessss, good, I can feel your anger!"

She gritted her teeth, her eyes shining with fury as he gradually pushed her back, toying with her as he grinned like a feral wolf.

"Succumb to your anger, Jedi, it is the only way you could ever beat me!"

Ceska felt the canyon wall slam hard into her back and he pressed hard, now using his true strength. Her own Force imbued strength barely managed to keep their blades centimeters away from her own face. She could feel the searing heat of the beams, causing her to involuntarily narrow her eyes. Suddenly, he pushed the blades down and away and an unexpected elbow caused her head to snap back.

When he looked down, her eyes widened and she screamed out in horror.

"ASHA, NOOOOOOO!," the young Togruta was racing towards the Sith with her blue-bladed lightsaber raised high in an attempt to protect her teacher. Ceska reached out a hand, and time itself seemed to slow as the Sith turned to face the Togruta. Then, things began to snap back into full speed and the Sith's crimson blade was sticking through her Padawan. Asha gasped, her eyes wide in surprise, falling to her knees as the Dark Sider drew his blade out. He turned back to face Ceska, his smile triumphant and wicked as he casually strode towards her, sure of his victory.

Meanwhile, Ceska too had fallen to her knees, her eyes still wide and full of horror. She shook her head slowly, feeling in her very core the last ragged breaths of her apprentice.

"Don't worry, Jedi, you will join your Padawan in the Force." he said mockingly.

Ceska looked up to see the figure of the Sith looming over her, his crimson saber casually held by his side. He raised his blade overhead to smite her...and...everything snapped. The white hot rage enveloped her and she raised her blade automatically to stop the killing blow. The Sith's face was painted with first confusion, then the horror of realization as Ceska stood even under the weight of his blade. She threw him back bodily through a Force push, and he went flying.

Starshield slowly, inexorably advanced on him as he skidded to a stop in the sand and stood, shakily to his feet.

"No, this cannot be," he was babbling as she stopped a few meters before him causing him to shift back and raise his blade in a guard. Her own blade hung by her side. "I am Sith, I am the Dark Side. You cannot beat me!"

He roared as he came forward and Ceska merely extended a hand, stopping him utterly. His hands came up to his throat, dropping his saber as he was lifted from the sands by a Force grip around his throat. His eyes were wide and he made choking noises, his feet kicking like a hanged man. Just as he thought he would die there, she dropped him and he fell several meters. Hitting the ground with a soft thud, he lay there, stunned.

When he came out of his stunned state, moments later, he looked up and she was there, looming like the specter of Death itself. He laughed then, knowing his end had come but also knowing the Dark Side had been the true victor. "You...may kill me..now...but the Dark Side...has won...as it always will!" he managed, spluttering and he laughed again as the blade lanced through his heart. She looked into the reflection of his glassy, dead eyes and felt dread. Her eyes...they were like his....

 

[Boethiah]

Vibrant voices won't stop speaking. Hushed tones; no one dared to question her...

Approaching her side was a tall, slender, elderly individual. "Father..." She hummed softly in acceptance of such a presence. He was the one who taught her everything and it was through him that she gained power. Ascendance was all she hoped for, the success of The Primeval rested on the Host Lord's shoulders and she, Anja Aj'Rou, would deliver. A flock of small birds fluttered overhead as the orange sun began to sink off in the horizon. Azure skies flooded above, glistening with white stars and masked by the pastel orange which blended perfectly at the edges.

Paradise: It lacks synonym in so many ways! How is it no word can truly describe the mesmerizing quality of perfection? What is perfection, what is contentment, what is being at peace with ones own mind; left without mortal troubles? The great philosophers of then and now have debated infinitely the meaning of such a word -- of the end beyond ends. Ignorance and arrogance alike have blinded many who chose not to follow their faith, this splendid way of life. All things come to an end yet she--no they--live beyond the concept of death.

A throne underneath her... She was Queen, Empress, God almighty. Purveyor of Perfection, The Greatest Magician, without flaw nor weakness. This was her dream. Yet... Something was missing; she couldn't help but think back to the days when she had no destiny at all. Where she could approach her father with unending questions and not be scolded for her curiosity: To be innocent.

"You are the pride of us all, Anja." The pursed lips of her father spoke those precious words behind her ear. The uncertainty she felt vanished and she felt relaxed... A blanket of pleasure cloaked her worn mind in gradual bliss. There was no need to worry or to fear.

Reality lost. Futures gained. None of it mattered.

She was home.

And little did she know how connected their worlds are... This hell.

[member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] | [member="Perla Pirjo"] | [member="Ceska Starshield"] | [member="Lucullus Lacar"] | [member="Kitsune"] | [member="Tyro'din"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Even in daylight, the dark of the The Clan Mother Zivka's hut was lit with dim torches, throwing more shadows than light. Reverently, she entered the hushed space expecting to find an empty hut to linger in temporarily and come back to when the moment was right but to Perla's surprise Mother Zivka was there in the hut, choosing rocks for a talisman.

"Perla Pirjo, welcome back to the Great Canyon Clan," Mother Zivka said and the words felt so good to hear it was as if her entire body was covered in a sweet honey, one that would ward off anger, fear, self-pity and regret. "Sit down my child."

Perla sat cross legged on a woven mat and faced Mother Zivka who stood and put her hand on the witch's forehead. "Exiled you are no more."

This made the younger witch sigh with contentment. But her face clouded with a question for her Clan Mother. "What about Manju? What will she think when she hears that I'm back in the village? She will want to skin me alive and leave me out as rancor bait. She will come after me wanting revenge. I don't blame her because..."

"Shhhh, child," said Mother Zivka soothingly, running her long fingers through Perla's hair. The younger witch closed her eyes and leaned into the comforting touch of her elder. "I need to tell you something."

With that statement, Zivka sat down and tucked her legs underneath her. She faced Perla and took her hands, not too hard but with a grip that said, you are welcome here.

"Manju's daughter Amala is alive. Perla, you didn't kill her after all. She survived that night. Survived your attack. You did not know what you were doing, my child. You cannot be faulted."

 

[Tyro'din]

Tyro'din had just stepped through the ornate door to enter the family celebration when he suddenly found himself sitting in a large, wing backed chair amidst a crowed of other Bothans, including his father, inside a large chamber. Tyro'din was shocked at this sudden change in scenery, although he didn't show it, and prepared for an attack before a blanket of calm washed over him. How could he had forgotten? After the party, which had led on into the early morning, everyone had gone to bed, quite drunk. The next day Tyro'din had sat down with Senrak to discuss his new duties as a member of the Chairs, gained through his position of Minister of the Treasury. The day after, the day he was now living, the bi-annual meeting was called which would include the Chairs and Clan Heads. The sudden gain of memories eased his conscious mind while his subconscious mind began to scream all the louder.

Shaking his head, Tyro'din looked around the room to take in the current situation. Tikrey of the Family Fel of the Clan Yun was currently speaking. He was the Minister of Off World Relations and a member of a Clan that did nothing to make its disgust at the Din Clan's abnormal views hidden, so much that it had onpenly spearheaded a movement to destroy the Din Clan years back. 'What happened to stop that?' Tyro'din asked himself, however before he could explore that another blanket of calm washed over him, erasing the question.

Tikrey was currently talking about needing more money to fund an Alliance Meeting on Irn, much more than what Tyro'din's calculations showed would be needed, and it was about to be approved by the Minister of the Body, the Leader of the Chairs. It was a position the Tyro'din aimed to fill with a Puppet at some point. He shook his head to clear out the thoughts when he saw the hidden greed on Tikrey's face and realised that the Bothan would be gaining more money than needed, something that Tyro'din saw as common after flicking through the files of the former Minister of the Treasury.

"Objection." Tyro'din leapt to his feet before the motion could be passed and couldn't help a feeling of glee fill him when he saw Tikrey's face tighten slightly and sent a quick prayer of thanks to Halrormalenth for granting him a True Name and allowing him to see the True Nature of others. For a second, Tyro'din found himself panicking because he could not recall anything of his Gods before it was washed away and a new feeling of calm washed through him and he forgot about his Gods.

"You have something to say, Shelk of Family Tef?" The Minister of the Body asked, in slight surprise. Clearing his throat, Tyro'din nodded before speaking his peace. "I have to ask as to why a motion that requires money was about to be approved without it first being ran through the Body of the Treasury. Surely you, Minister of the Body and you, Minister of Off World Relations, were not about to over step your limitations and take the authority the contained within a pillar of out society, The Treasury, has away so as to use it to your own ends by disguising it as a purely Off World Relations matter? Surely not." While Tyro'din knew that he would try to be doing it in the future, he refused to have it happen to him nor let those that tried to do so get away. The way he had worded his complaint would plant a few seeds within the minds of the other Ministers, specifically the fear of having that happen to their own 'Pillar of the Society', and fear would always rule the masses.

"I Call that all files pertaining to this issue be sent to my Office so that the Body of the Treasury can approve of this Motion. I'm sure that outstanding members of our society will have nothing to worry about, of course, I just wish to prove to the Chairs that I am serious about my job and will uphold the Din Clan's honour in doing so."

Tyro'din knew he had pushed the two into a corner, whether the Minister of the Body was involved in the scheme or not, forcing his Call to become a Motion. If they refused his Call it would cast suspicion upon them of hiding something and the Bothans would jump on that to try and gain power. If they refused they would also insult the Din Clan, an old Clan by all standards, with him proclaiming that the Call was to try and uphold the Clan's Honour, if the Call was refused they were basically saying that they did not trust the Honour of the Clan do uphold such a job.

When a quiet 'Approved' was muttered, Tyro'din smirked in pride on the inside, his face an emotionless mask, and sat back down. Already plans were running through his head on how he could delay Tikrey's Motion long enough to build power and evidence against him.

 

[Laguz Vald]

Strong, felacatian legs beat the cracked earth as the figure broke into a sprint, leaving nothing but dust in xir wake. The soil beneath xir feet had no give to it, as if something had sapped every ounce of moisture out of it ages ago, and xe could feel every tremor carry up the length of xir ligaments and bones as xe made contact with the ground. It was decidedly unpleasant, but Laguz didn't really have a choice.

Without a Forcer to do their thing, the shifter would be left dead in the water in this illusory world. Oh, xe knew what was going on; I mean, an artifact, a dumb person poking said artifact, suddenly they're in a weird place? Didn't exactly take a genius to figure it out. Add to that Laguz's extensive experience with deception and mind tricks, and it wasn't hard to put two and two together.

Still, for all xir knowledge and skill, the sniper had no way of breaking free of this magic-woven prison on xir own. An annoying turn of events to be sure — did xe ever prefer riding solo — but needs must what needs must.

Borrowed muscles strained against skin as Laguz came to a skidding halt, the shadow of the canyon passing over xir head as xe entered the sinuous crevasse. The gorge was quite narrow at the beginning, and it took some navigating and a lot of curses to traverse the rocky terrain, but the shifter succeeded in the end. With a low huff, xir haunched figure landed on the dry earth, and the agent wiped the sweat off xir brow. The air surely wasn't very forgiving around here.

"Hey!" xir throat burned with the volume of xir shout, but the shifter didn't really care. It was all a ploy of some ancient Sith magick, after all. "You, girl!" Another soft-spoken attempt to gain the attention of the sitting woman. If being loud and obnoxious didn't work, Laguz would employ the tried and true method of rousing people out of a trance; a good, hard Bitchslap™.


[member="Perla Pirjo"] | [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Armand Temi]

So there it was! She had been forgiven for killing Amala, who would now be the same age as Perla. After she visited her parents, she would seek out Amala. The witch initiate wanted to see how strong and capable the girl had turned out.

And she had another question for Mother Zivka but was stopped by a strange presence in the room. Or perhaps the interloper was in her consciousness itself. She felt something scratching at her brain, interrupting her perception of the hut, the torches, the hanging trophies of the hunt. Something wasn't right here even though moments before it felt warm and familiar and comforting. The halluncinatory world also felt this intrusion and with the strength of ancient magic sought to remove the threat.

Mother Zivka suddenly said, "I know what you want to ask me, Perla. That same night when you flooded the canyon with your wayward spell. That has been forgiven too!"

Relieved Perla squeezed Mother Zivka's hands again. Whatever was pervading the darkened hut was gone and she was back in the welcoming hospitality of the Great Canyon Clan Mother and her dulcet words of forgiveness.

[member="Laguz Vald"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Ceska stood over a body, a Bothan whose head had been severed and still rolled. His neck was the cauterized stump that came from a lightsaber decapitation. His own lightsaber had fallen out of his dead fingers and lay just beyond reach. With a hiss, she flicked off her weapon and hooked it on her belt. The blade was blue, but no it wasn't, it was red now. She had switched out her Adaegan crystal two years ago now with a red synthetic.

Her clothes were different now, too, a high collared black jacket with baggy grey trousers. A blaster pistol on her left hip balanced the hilt on her right. She was a hunter of Jedi in the employ of the Dark Lord of the Sith. He had promised much power, perhaps even the place of his current Apprentice. She didn't care, she simply wanted to kill each and every Jedi.

After the death of her Padawan on Tatooine, she'd gone back to Ossus not knowing what else to do. They had sensed the darkness, the animal fury exuding from her. They'd turned their backs on her and cast her out of the Order. She was an abomination beyond saving, to be severed from the Force forever for the good of all. What had hurt most of all was the sad look on her old mentor's face. In his eyes she saw him looking at one lost.

She had managed to break free, killing several during her escape. Ceska had then fled Ossus and went into hiding, finally being found not by the Order, but rather her new Master. He offered her a chance for revenge and the former Knight took it gladly becoming a hunter of her old comrades. Now she was here and another Jedi lay dead. She smiled as she picked the deactivated hilt....

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

https://soundcloud.com/thepanacheorchestra/sets/calm-meditative-tracks-by-the-panache-orchestra​

​

My worries have doubled these past few years,​

Time seems to have flown by in the blink of an eye,​

My son was born with healthy youth and vigor,​

Like myself,​

It appears his presence within is a strong one,​

There is much hope for this boy,​

Of mine.​

​

Everyday he wakes is another day of training,​

It reminds me too much of home,​

I have to keep reminding myself that here,​

Is home now.​

​

She tells me I will adjust like I always do,​

She tells me I am a Jedi who knows,​

The way to heal,​

But I am held back by the weight of everything,​

Everything I knew is closed from me,​

Now I must know this world alone.​

​

I began to protect it some time ago,​

Healing the people and protecting them,​

But now my son is among them,​

I do not know what to feel any more,​

Other than to worry.​

​

Is my fate to be confined here?​

​

Is my sons fate to be confined here?​

​

Shall everything that I know in this life be confined here?​

​

How much else must be confined to this place I have come to know as home?​

​

Why should it be?​

​

Why?​

​

Why...​

​

 

[huggin_munnin]

It was...

When was it? she thought. It was...

Months later, many months. She was laying there and looking up at the blue skies of Dantooine and it was a beautiful day without a single cloud in the sky. There was a gentle breeze cooling the warmth of the summer day and Ceska smiled. She was dying and she knew there was nothing she could do except smile. For the first time in years she was at peace.

The Master and Knight who had mortally wounded her stood back a respectful distance. They had been part of a trap set by the Jedi for their erstwhile comrade turned Jedi hunter. Ceska had been sent after them and they had ambushed her and overwhelmed her using one of her own tactics against her. No longer was there any pain or suffering.

There is no death, there is the Force. The mantra echoed in her mind and she felt comfort.

"There is...no death...there is...the Force." she gasped, her breaths now coming quick and shallow.

The world began to fade....

-----------------------------------------

Ceska Starshield's eyes opened and she lay there not knowing for several minutes, staring up at the high ceiling. Then she heard in her mind:

There is no emotion, there is Peace.
There is no ignorance, there is Knowledge.
There is no passion, there is Serenity.
There is no chaos, there is Harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.

It was spoken in the voice of her former Master, and as the tears began to stream, she knew it was time to return home....

 

[Soeht]

On a ship orbiting Sernpidal, Bestala observed the activity going on the system. The world had a very small population - so by default there was hardly much going on.

Bored, Bestala had begun tinkering with her eyebot. Every few minutes, she would look up to see the screens monitoring the ground team’s progress. A couple hours passed. In the past hour, Bestala heard nothing from the ground team.

Once she realized that, she sat her eyebot to the side. She then asked someone in the bridge, “Why is the ground team so quiet?”

The person she asked could not give a definite answer.

At that moment, Bestala began messaging people on the ground, such as [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Ceska Starshield"], [member="Zambrano the Hutt"], and others - ignorant of their current situation.

 

[Armand Temi]

"Perla you will get to reunite with all of those whom you miss - your mother, your father, even Amala. There is plenty of time, my child. But first I have more good news," said Mother Zivka. Perla sat under the flickering lights in the hut and waited patiently for the Clan Mother to continue, although the day had already been full of surprises. She almost felt that if her joyous heart could not take another surprise. Joy, lightness, redemption all of these were nearly foreign concepts for lately Perla inhabited a subterranean world of darkness and shadows.

“Your magic is extremely powerful,” Mother Zivka said. “You could be a Nightsister unlike we’ve seen since our clan ancestor Tamith Kai.”

“But to claim the rights to your magic you need to face an old adversary. I know you can do it Perla,” Mother Zivka said her honeyed voice like pheromones washing over the witch initiate. The Clan Mother would ease her fears with more compliments and flattery until Perla said, “No more. I must meet this adversary.” A bloodlust filled her to make the Great Canyon Clan even more proud of her.

“Follow the Sanguine Trail,” the Clan Mother commanded. “And you will see for yourself.”

Perla wasn’t sure where the Sanguine Trail was or even what it was but all of what Mother Zivka promised was too tempting to ignore. She forgot about her parents, forgot about the homecoming. She wanted to fight again and to kill all in the name of redemption, brilliance and joy. It was time to step into the light.

[member="Laguz Vald"]