Are You Not Entertained? [TSE Dom of Luria Hex - AK,28]

[Delaney Wilder]

The Highland Games
[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Kassandra Zambrano"]

"I am unsure about that assessment, Major, perhaps some have bold thoughts. But in my experience most sentients simply wish to get through the day." A thoughtful murmur, before glancing over at the arena as the black armored individual thumped their shield in a challenge. It surely did inspire some... pizzazz into the mix. Was it effective? That was an entirely different question. "It is a difficult Galaxy out there. I do not believe most people have the luxury for the bold... for the challenging."

His focus shifted back to Dante again.

"But perhaps I am wrong. What would I know about the common man and their struggle?" Fairly little. Hated the Zambranos might be, but they lived a life of luxury and a lack of consequences. From the day that Jahan had been born, he had... everything.

Even if he had not been permitted to mix with the rest of the Galaxy.

His fate had been a different one. The Chosen, no?

"Major Sotari, when one drinks together, the expectation is that one actually... drinks." Attention refocused on the still full glass, before sighing softly. "You are not permitted? Well, you are today. Don't make me drink alone here, this is already a dreadful affair." A small smile popped up a bit, dragging in. "Of course, I could always order you to have a drink with me, if that makes things easier for you." His hand waved the issue aside. "Then you can blame it all on me, if your superior starts complaining."

His glass rose again.

"Will you do me the honor of a drink, Major?"

 

[Reverance]

Unnamed principality, Luria
Objective 1

The pages turn, sliding over one another in the way only dusty parchment could. He felt at the hardened scales of the binding, scraped by blade from the back of dead and living sages alike. Reading through the pages, the tome spoke of King and Queens, great conquerors and heroes, of King Voltiine and the great cleanse.

They called him the Burner. Reverance chuckled at that, shaking his head quietly in the dark confines of the Royal Library. How could someone be great...if they burned but a single planet?

"Is there something I could help you with?" The librarian approached with clasped hands, long flowing robes of purple and gold embroidery hid the old and gangling shape of the man. But it was easy enough to pick out when looking in the right places. Clinging fabric to the elbows and joints, the padding on the shoulders that gave him the illusion of broadness, and the sunken hollow expression as his skin hung from sharp cheekbones. At least, they were sharp once - now dulled by the passing of time.

"Yes. Tell me about this...Burner."

"King Voltiine? Ah yes...very interesting choice." The man approached, swaying as if floating on a platform hidden beneath the flare of his robes. "Before the great plague, we were a great people. But as we allowed more immigrants in, they brought with them disease and death. King Voltiine sought to cleanse this world of that. So..." The man shrugged, nodding. "He began a great fire. Not a single royal line survived it. All of it is kept within this tome." He gestured with a skinny opened palm.

"Do I sense admiration in your re-telling?" Reverance wondered openly, not looking up from the written words. His blackened finger moved over the pages, delicately, feeling the force and weight that was put into the transcription.

"Well...yes." The old man nodded. "He was an admirable man." The librarian paused in his admittance, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever been here before? I don't recognize you. Why are you here?"

"Where is the Duke of this holding?"

The man stepped back, his hands were clasped once more and fawning nervously over each other. "Why...why do you ask?"

Reverance shut the tome, the orange blade igniting and cutting a hole through the mans abdomen. As quickly as it revealed itself, it was gone once more. The librarian let out a shaking huff as he knelt over, sagging quickly to the floor. Like a statue with a suddenly broken foundation, the man maintained the fetal position throughout the entire endeavor. "I plan to kill him. Or her." Reverance wasn't sure who ruled this principality. Kneeling forward, he grabbed the mans hand and clutched it tightly. "You are..." He paused, directing his singular view on the man. "A waste of resources. Frail, fragile...old." He felt the mans pulse in his wrist, slowly fading. "Thank you for the history lesson."

The librarian grimaced, gripping Reverance's hand with a surprising amount of force. And then, as if the wind blew just a bit too hard, he rolled over and his handhold loosened. Reverance stood up, taking in the way those grey eyes went empty, and began his walk out of the library.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Objective IV: Pyronium
[member="Ivory"]

Why not a bomb? Simple: She was not here just to kill someone, but to reforge the fabric of society and shift the distribution resources and services to her favour. The murder was the simple bit, finding the right person and making the deed count was what truly made an assassin worthwhile.

Murder is common. Anyone could murder.

Assassins shape history.

A hairless eyebrow arced up when Ivory produced the EMP and used it to disable the cameras. It was a surprise, but a welcome one, and a reminder that with the nerve of her new guest she ought to start locking her cabinets more securely. However, while the blackout of the cameras would let them get in unseen, it would alert the guards to funny business. Ophidia was curious as to exactly how Ivory expected to escape.

It sure made the clock tick faster.

Behind those doors, a twi'lek slept soundly, and with his murder would come a shift in regimes yet unknown to Ivory.

She had twenty seconds until the guards had time to react to her intrusion.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective IV: Pyronium
Darth Ophidia

There was a simple answer to how Ivory was expecting to escape.

She hadn't thought of that yet.

Simple as that.

Instead she rushed through the corridor the moment the EMP went off. Her boots had been padded with sound-muffling soles. Not that it was... strictly necessary. Iv was as thin and small as a reed. She didn't make much sound either way. Bounding through the corridor, she finally skidded to a halt on the far-end. There she scrutinized the door for a moment. Gently, carefully, she opened it and peeked an eye in. Making sure she did it at a position that wasn't head-height.

People always looked at that height first... shot there first too.

The actual assassination was. Um. Uneventful, really. A bit boring if Ivory was honest. Her hand gripped the twi'lek's mouth at the same time as the glass dagger shoved its way through the soft side of his chin and up. It perforated his throat with ease.

Like cutting butter.

Eyes screeched open, but it didn't matter. The life was yanked violently from him as the man choked on his blood, the shattered remains of the knife and her hand. "Should wake up earlier, boss." Ivory murmured, before wiping the blood off the white blanket. Somewhere in the distance Iv could already hear the bounding of boots against the floor. Not muffled, those. A grimace there. Ivory was only thinking now about her escape. She ran over towards the windows.

Opened them.

Noticing just how deep the drop was and then- a second blade was flicked against the security camera overlooking the drop. It immediately was shattered off its hinges and fell down.

"She better fething give me points for creativity." Ivory growled as she ran out of the bedroom, closing the door just the way she found it...... and then slipping into the adjacent room. Not a moment too soon either, because a breath or two later the guards already rushed into the room.

There was shouting, screaming, alarm ringing.

"How the feth did they get out of the room?" "Noticed the window? Camera was blasted off too." "You think they dropped down?"

What was the one thing few people honestly ever expected from an assassin? When they stuck around, rather than immediately run away.

 

[Kassandra Zambrano]

Objective II - Win the Highland Games
Spectators - [member="Jahangir Zambrano"] | [member="Dante Sotari"]

The taunt had served its purpose, as Kass' opponent looked up at her and spat some blood out. He was pissed, and that was exactly what she was counting on. Devoid of his shield, the man charged at her in a blind rage, sword raised ready for an overhead strike.

Kass stood her ground, feet sliding in position and raising her shield up. There was a glint in her eye that went unnoticed, waiting as her opponent got close enough to attempt an attack. His blade came swinging down, and Kass met it with her shield; knocking it away with deft parry. Her follow up wasn't the sword, but rather her fist wrapped around the hilt.

Stunned, the man could do nothing as she slipped through his defence, scooped him up with her shield and tossed him over onto his back once more.

Only then did she quickly pivot and stab her blade downwards...only to meet nothing but sand.

Her opponent had enough in him to roll away, right towards a group of other fighters that were just so happened to not be fighting one another. It was meant to be a free-for-all, and yet these three were just standing there?

Didn't take a genius to work out what was going on. And it brought a grin to Kass' face.

"Now that's just unfair...you need at least another one or two, to stand a chance against me." Cocky. But what truth was there behind it?

Kassandra let out a battle cry, charging forwards with her shield up again. The four were startled, presumably from not expecting her to charge at them when they had the number advantage. At least two of the fighters had the sense to dive out of the way, but the third; who was helping her original opponent up, wasn't so lucky.

The Force met shield, and shield met body. The enhanced blow sent one fighter off his feet and across the arena, the one still on the ground was sent hurtling along kicking up piles of sand along the way. She was growing disappointed, until someone took advantage of a blind spot and delivered a mace blow right to her head. To the fighter's credit, it did daze Kass and send her stumbling. But it didn't take long for her to right herself, attention snapping towards the culprit. There was a bloodthirsty grin just about visible beneath the helmet, with a small trickle of blood slipping beneath it.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"An excellent strategy, I will leave it up to you to choose your commanders."

His eyes scanned the holographic images presented to him, analyzing every aspect of his daughter's strategy in taking down these dissident lords. She had learned much from her time in the Legion, no doubt aided by the various military tutors he had sent her way to teach her the ways of organized war. He was now seeing that all on display, the culmination of many years of hard work to mold his daughter into someone worthy to carry on his old mantle.

She was his favorite, his most cherished.

"You will ride out and turn these weak miscreants to ash, my daughter. You will show the whole galaxy your might, our family's might." Speaking of which, the Emperor's brow knit together as his mind drifted to other members of his family, specifically the other children of Emma. "Your brother is planet-side, but where is your sister? Where is Evaelyn?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Objective IV: Pyronium
[member="Ivory"]

The kill was adequately executed. There were little theatrics, no hesitation, no lingering.

No emotion.

What came next was more of a trial: Mounting a proper escape. When she opened the window, Ophidia momentarily felt the cringe creeping up. But Ivory knew better. Shorting out the camera was good, and the diversion was creative. However, she still needed to get out

Remaining shrouded, she whispered to Ivory.

"Not too bad. Needs refinement." "The south side is the least guarded. There is a walking guard, he has a hound. They will catch your scent if you do not throw them off your trail."

Ophidia knew the tricks she would use, and if Ivory asked, she might have a tip.

After all this, the Sith Lord wanted to know if the young Rattataki was willing to take advice from her captor.

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

A message had to be delivered-- The sheer might of the Sith Empire was to be made manifest.

And Alisel Gargal, Captain of the 22nd Armored Company, embedded within the 7th Field Army, knew just what had to be done. Whereas the string of planets selected for conquest seldom made armored support worthwhile, the grasslands of Luria gave the Captain the opportunity she had sought after for so long. As the Emperor had given his demand and the divide between those who would kowtow and those who would defy the Sith Emperor was made, the Legion had already mobilized itself. Whilst forests and mountainous regions had stood in their way before, with their targets sat across grasslands and mountain ranges, the battleplan was quickly drawn-- The 7th would shift itself into a mechanized focus along with armored support with the intent to act as the spearhead to assault the various planetary holdings of the Lords and Ladies of Luria that had sought defiance against the Sith Empire, supported by artillery and air support. The occasional holding within the mountainous regions would find itself subject to attacks from the smaller but equally lethal Special Forces units embedded within the 7th. The General had been absent for some time now, without any signs of his whereabouts nor any messages from higher authority regarding as such-- Gargal had her suspicions, perhaps the General had simply fallen sick but, having heard the rumors spread among the enlisted regarding his 'condition', her mind couldn't help but make the conclusion that something was amiss regarding that entire situation. Alas, General or no General, the briefing was spread among the men and before long, the forces of the Sith Legion found themselves on the warpath once again.

The ride to the surface was a trivial task, some of the opposing Lords and Ladies having sent troops forward to try and secure the Empire's landing zones and catch the enemy amid their disembarking and strike a serious blow to the Legion before their various sieges had even begun. Whereas they were expecting simple infantry, said ambushes were caught within their own trap as tanks and armored transports made planet-fall and quickly engaged the prepared ambushes, inflicting heavy casualties on the poorly prepared defenders and causing a mass retreat back to their various holdings. With nothing more than a minor inconvenience to their operations, the 22nd and their supporting elements quickly formed up in their columns of tanks, transports and mobile artillery, their objectives plain as day; level their holdings and slaughter whatever tried to hide within. The Emperor had sought no mercy when dealing with those that openly defied him and Captain Gargal planned to strike with that ideal in mind-- The artillery would flatten their fortifications and her tanks and transports would move in and snuff whatever life clung to the rubble. Those that defied the expansion of the Sith Empire would hear nothing but the thunder of guns, the rolling of tracks and the scream of jets.

And it would not stop until the Emperor's will was made manifest.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]

Another bow as he sanctioned her strategy, sharp and to the point.

She contained herself from grinning too wide, but she was visibly pleased with the outcome. Her preferred commanders were already chosen and on the field, ready to serve under any circumstance. This was not just Joycelyn's time to prove herself, but also those she had made her most loyal attendants.

The information that her brother was planetside gave her a moment of pause. She had not seen him much since she started her climb in the ranks of the Sith. Now Evaelyn, she and Joycelyn had been inseparable throughout their childhood, but Joycelyn had found herself intensely occupied, and Evaelyn had her own, secretive projects. While they had some correspondence, they saw each other much more rarely than before.

Now, however, Joycelyn had a small surprise. She gave a gesture to the guard behind her, who in turn called another into the room.

"Last I heard, she was going under cover in the Unknown Regions."

As the second person, dressed as a Blackblade entered, Joycelyn smiled and nodded to her.

"She was recovered in our expanding zones recently. Leading to the arrest of a smuggling crew over Munto Codru."

 

[Evaelyn Zambrano]

The second Blackblade entered in a determined march, no different from that of the first. Nor did they feel different. The man rounded the corner to position himself centre of the room, well within view of the Dark Lord and his daughter. A bit formal, perhaps, to make it all the way there, but perhaps he was passionate about his role as a messenger. Interestingly enough though, the man didn't bow, nor even nod his head.

Two black gloves reached for the side of the helmet, and pushed it off. While tucking it under his arms, it became quite clear that he was indeed a she. She shook her head and blue hair with it, as it was released of its constraints, the long, wavy locks landing atop shiny, black armour. This was no Blackblade, but of course, he had already figured that much.

"Hello father" the woman spoke with the smirk of someone eager to see the expression of someone thinking 'Oh dear Force, do I have to deal with your antics again?'Yeah baby, black sheep's back. "I see you brought the beard back. You sure about that?" It actually looked good, but it was the first Evaelynish thought that came to mind.

With more excitement and pure affection, she looked across to the Major of the Imperial Legion. "Hey sis" She felt a little bit proud she didn't immediately break rank and go for a hug. Then again, they weren't exactly the hugging kind of family. But Evaelyn had always perceived her and Joyce to be something set aside from the rest. To lose her approval would hurt more than to lose that of her father's, at this point. Truth be told, before she got involved with these black ops, she had turned disappointing her father into a bit of a fun game. Oh, the good old days.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective IV: Pyronium
[member="Darth Ophidia"]

Honestly she wasn't sure what to do next.

Planning this far ahead wasn't her forte. At all. Usually she just... sorta... winged it. Had gone well with the rebellion back on Rattatak, right? It did end up with her capture at the hands of the schutta, but some things just couldn't be planned for anyway. Like. How was Ivory going to plan to be kidnapped by a gorram Sith Lord at the height of her own power? That was... no. So. Here she was, in the core of enemy territory. Alarms ringing and the guards making their rounds.

Target dead.

Locked in a closet.

This couldn't get any bet-

A voice suddenly whispered against her ear and Ivory JUMPED, dashing her head against one of the clothing planks, before coming back down again. Her back against the corner of the closet. Squinting heavily at the invisible shadow behind her.

"You!" She hissed softly, rubbing at her scalp. "Feth me, how did you even get in here without me noticing??" Suppressing a groan at the ache on the top of her head. That was gonna be a bruise. Maybe even a bump. Of course Ophidia had another lesson planned for her. Here. "Refinement? Lady, this is the first time I pulled an assassination, I was fethin' great." Iv scowled at the invisible Pale. Legendary assassin. Queen of death. No wonder her standards were ridiculous.

Ophidia probably had been born with a shiv stuck between her teeth.

Cutting off her own umbilical cord with a twirl in between.

All of her indignation aside, Ivory did recognize she was rightfully chitted, if Ophidia's description rang through. "Alright, so what do I do about my scent. Sprinkle salt and pepper on me and on my path?"

 

[LT-137]

Objective One.

Another world, and another assignment.

Khonsu was no stranger to working for the Sith Empire, as their credits were as good as anyone's. However, the man enjoyed his missions with the Sith as they allowed him to unleash his full potential without worrying about the collateral details. They told him to leave nothing but ashes, and that’s exactly what he did.

On the world of Luria, however, it was no longer just another assignment - as it became personal. His men were dispatched to the furthest corner of the northern continent to deal with one of the Lord’s who didn’t seek to live under the Imperial flag. It should’ve been an easy mission, but proved to be more difficult than they expected when one dropship after another was brought down by automated anti-air emplacements.

Their Starfighters suffered the same fate and began littering the walls before an imposing fortress.

More lives than he could’ve ever imagined were sacrificed this day, and it stoked the fires of Khonsu’s rage. He would have that damned fortress, and the head of that bloody Lord would be mounted beside his basalt throne.

So, what the Twisuns Praetor did next was unthinkable. He ordered his dropship to land just out of reach of their guns and began marching towards the Fortress walls on foot. With every mechanized step, the Thyrsian pounded the edge of his gauntlet-mounted shield against the shaft of his Force Pike. Every empowered connection between the two weapons was thunderous and cut through the crackling din of distant battle.

Enemy snipers took shots at the advancing warrior, only to find that their bolts impacted a projected energy barrier; unseen between the glinting sunlight and the gilded armour that crested Sun Guard wore.

Unconcerned, Khonsu carried forward. Shouting his wordless battlecry until the moment he stood before the imposing walls of the mountain-side Fortress. There, dwarfed by the towering slabs of armoured stone, the Sun Guard activated his loudspeaker and beckoned the Lord of these lands to come forth; to face the Thyrsian in ritual combat that would ultimately determine the fate of his fortified estate.

No answer was given in reply, save that of the tireless emplacements that sought to return mastery over the skies to the defenders.

“Come out you Craven Wretch and face me!” The Twisuns Praetor bellowed. “Else I will scale your walls and drag you out myself!”​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The flagship of Darth Pyrrhus aligned itself with the flotilla surrounding Luria. Since his return from his secretive expedition into Wild Space, a lot had seemed to happen. One little upgrade that was particularly pleasing to him was that of his flagship. This was decidedly roomier than the Cataphract, it was safe to say. Although most of his expedition had been spent on the Cataphract, there was no point being sentimental about it. Not when the Heresiarch-class Command Battlecruiser, twice the size of his last flagship, were to become his new. Fit for a Triumvir, indeed.

A portion of the Remnant Legion, particularly the Nautolans still in his service, had been dispatched to the planet. Once again it was Kregan Fash, the Zabrak Sith Knight who assumed command. However, unlike last time, Pyrrhus had given him strict instructions as to how to proceed. He did not trust Fash to be as comfortable with amphibious assaults as he was, and Fash's operation on Munto Codru had been far too direct and ineffective. Soon they would make their attack. Now he imagined they were still getting into position, trying to remain undiscovered until it was too late for their enemies.

Pyrrhus had left his senior ranking naval commander in charge of the command battlecruiser. Unlike Munto Codru, the tall Togruta now ventured down to the planet itself. Again, Soraya had protested, and again he had ignored her. It was becoming irksome.

The shuttle set down within walking distance of the Tree of Life, carrying with it two dark robed figures. One, clearly the Togruta, while the other was shorter and had her features masked by both the black cloak wrapped around her and the wide hood pulled over her face. But it was not a far-fetched thought to assume it was a female.They might've looked like an old man and his daughter, were it not for the stark difference in species, as they trotted along the path, nearing this mysterious tree he had heard so much about.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Objective IV: Pyronium
[member="Ivory"]

Ah yes, the jump-scare. It was all part of the test, if a little improvised. It showed her how Ivory reacted to sudden surprises though. Another acolyte almost stabbed her once a pulling the same sort of move.

"I have many skills, some of which you will come to master yourself."

Ophidia's face seemingly appeared out of the darkness, though ethereal and devoid of what little colour commonly present in it. One of her hands rested on Ivory's shoulder, but they seemed to come from entirely different angles, as though she merely materialised out of the ether one piece at a time.

"I have seen dogs with better knife technique." Shistavanen technically, but no time for technicalities.

A second hand slipped something cold, smooth and round, like an egg, towards Ivory's palm.

"Call this 'points for creativity'." Ophidia's delivery was deadpan, not a hint of a smile on her face. "Throw it at the hound. It will confuse its senses."

A third hand appeared, tracing down the collar one of the expensive fur coats hanging left of Ivory. The Pale looked at it, then at Ivory, a smile on her lips.

And she was gone - Swallowed up by the darkness.

 

[Dahu Nobis]

Objective I

Dahu had recently been assigned to a new company. Jexxel company, what they called themselves. A group of cold blooded killers without an ounce of regret or remorse. Much like the beast with which they share their name. There were 12 of them in total. Dahu was relatively new to the company, but he felt at home among them. One of the most tight knit companies in all of the Imperial Legion. Effective as hell too.

Jexxel Company moved through a dense forest on foot. The crunch of sticks and leaves beneath their boots was the only sound heard among them.

Dahu somewhat hoped this mission would stay as quiet as it was. But, a part of him wanted to have something to point his gun at and pull the trigger.

 

[Mythos]

Objective: Burn the Tree.
Location: The Forest


It was like the olden days...

Yet it was not.

Clad in the armor crafted by [member="Kaine Australis"], weilding the Axe of Adas firmly in his shoulders the Sith Magnus joined the conquest late but with one deadly entourage. The Molok Legion landed planet side minutes after the sun set and using the cover of darkness and the advantage of night vision they executed a lighting strike of the countryside. The fast and large racial complexity of Anubians was nearly flawless in the mind of Mythos. As the Magnus ordered they were to use stealth dropships, a new prototype design made by the Sith Imperial Corps of Engineers made to not only arrive planetside undetected but pack enough firepower to shower the land with death to support the assaulting legions.

They were black, sleek in design, the sharp silver edges of the vessels were angled as to create a natural defence against blaster weaponry by simply deflecting them off. Not that it mattered here, Mythos was burning and scorching the entirety of the land he crossed with his legion, the defenceless outskirts laid to waste.

Entire grid squares were gone, smoke were grass once was as well as the residue of thermal detonators. His ax was bloody, he could feel the presence of [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] as he landed as well as the one of his General [member="Vestille Thumahra"]. Even from here another contient away he felt the march of the Golden Company and [member="Khonsu Amon"]. The power of the Ancient Eye grew stronger and world by world Mythos scoured the land in search for its missing pieces, the ultimate archaeological challenge. So far, six pieces done and Mythos could sense his allies from here, knowing now they were close to him and even able to zone into their form and force presence. To achieve this he had given up many of his old powers, the trade was more than worth it.

The enemy allowed him a landing zone and Mythos marched down in darkness. He never knew why Australis made him a helmet if he knew he'd never wear it. His golden hair was drenched in blood, he spoke anubian clearly to his soldiers alongside Anok-eh, it was language that human vocal chords were not in any way designed to create. Using the force to manipulate the sound waves that came from his throat he was able to speak this 'barking' language clearly and loudly to be effective in combat.

Having been established and with serious momentum behind his assault he headed down to his real goal, the tree of life. His intent?

Burn it, Burn it all. Burn it like hope. The villages in between his LZ and the forest that separated him from the tree were for fun, violence and death were entertainment for the Molok legion. Those taken were used in ritualistic sacrifice or slavery. The Molok legion violated several articles of imperial law simply by practicing their religion and culture, so far the higher imperial offices had not bothered to call the Anubian representatives or Mythos about it so he allowed them to push the envelope yet again. They were transported out into the Oversight shipyard then transported across FO territory into the Siiruuk outposts to aid in Mythos' personal siiruuk campaigns.

Now... they stood before the great forest, the gateway to the heart of the tree and the root they would need to find in order to make it into ash.

"Hedge formations, bounding overwatch. Burn everything we cross."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective IV: Pyronium
[member="Darth Ophidia"]

"Must be some dog then."

She caught the egg in her hands and looked down on it. It was dark here, but she could just about recognize the shimmering silvery gleam of it. Weird. "I really hope your rewards are-" By the time that Ivory looked up Ophidia was gone again though. This time there wasn't any fear. Just her brows furrowed, quizzical look. "Um. Really? You literally need to use the door, so I know you are- really? Silent treatment? Okay then." Little did Ivory know that Ophidia didn't need to use the gorram door like a normal person.

If that was the case here?

Who knew.

She squinted at the fur coat, before sighing. At the very least it could make for good camouflage. She took a sniff, then wrinkled her nose. "Fethers need to dust sometimes." It would be great to cover her scent too. A few seconds later a new image stepped out of the closet.

Properly changed and speeding along.

She wouldn't have long, before the guards realized there wasn't chit outside, before regrouping inside. Time to get out.

 

[The Lurking Presence]

Objective 1
[member="Matsu Xiangu"]


It was an uncanny feeling, at first. Undertaking this task without you at my side, Matsu. A dreadful sensation to stride towards glory absent Mother and Master, lonesome bloodletting, perhaps is best how I could breathe life in to the words. Plenty of faces, both familiar and intimate - Zymus, Dreadwind, Captain's Nutano and Quasar. But yet, such hollowness.

None, however, have shared the triumphs and torments we have.

So now I write, stooped beside the flames of this hearth, to fill you in on the carnage that's recently transpired these past months.

Myself, Section 13, the 275th Imperial Marines and a number of Saaraishash Agents disembarked here on the World of Luria well in advance of the Empire's arrival - common these days. Reconnaissance and Intelligence gathering for the Empire, operating hand-and-hand with other Agencies and Sleeper Cells for the Primary Invasion Force. I believe [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"], the daughter of [member="Darth Carnifex"], was tasked with shepherding many of the Assault Forces across the planet, but I've yet to examine the After Action Reports.

I'll make sure to have them transmitted as soon as our SecureLink is cleaned up, also. I'm sure the Lord Inquisitor, [member="Darth Saarai"], will want more than a single set of eyes inspecting everything collected.

Luria is a cold World, Matsu - at least for us Maenan's ---- ruled by Kings and Queens, the very concepts of which, even as a tiny cog attached to the Sith, I continue to grapple with. But I suppose to others, the madness of our World, is as equally disorienting. But, surrounded by Tomes and Books of this Fortress Library, their Lore is rich and full of Legendary Tales. In that, perhaps I find common ground. . . even if it's all a little soft and bland for my taste. The violence and mystery of Home makes most places in this Galaxy seem feeble and anemic.

This King Voltiine, however, The Burner, as they call him. Perhaps proof that even so far from Maena, the Flames of Xoth-za smolder? That's neither here nor there for now though, as I've taken the liberty of commandeering the contents of this Library - as well as most of the items, reserves, and the wealth of this Stronghold's vaults - they'll be returning to Maena with Dreadwind and Section 13 posthaste.

I've seemed to stray though, unsurprisingly, I'm sure you'd say. Now though, allow me to recount the footpath of War that lead us from the Polar City of Ezroria, up to this frosty Ancestral Fortress of the Haeridge Peaks.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His eyes narrowed at the revelation that his wayward daughter had been recovered and he not made aware of it, a slight chip in the trust between himself and his most favorite.

"Evaelyn, petulant as always." He grumbled, "Why wasn't her return brought to my attention immediately?" Whatever reason or excuse Joyce gave him was quickly tossed aside with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention instead firmly placed on his blue-haired miscreant of a daughter. "But since you are here, and are already in uniform, I expect you to act in accordance with the birthright of your name. You will follow your elder sister's orders to the letter and will no longer deviate from the path laid out before you."

His voice was full of sharp authority but also laced with annoyance and disappointment. Unlike her sister, Evaelyn had been something of a black bantha in that branch of his mighty family tree, shirking her duties as his daughter to gallivant on her own whims. For a time, Joycelyn seemed doomed to follow that path, but she had since course-corrected and had made a name for herself amongst the Imperial Legion. Now she was honored enough to carry his old mantle and command his personal army into battle.

Maybe Evaelyn would follow suit.

"Do I make myself clear, child?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Reverance]

Unnamed principality, Luria
Objective 1

Edges of carapace clicked against the polished floor, overhanging the shoes of the hermetically sealed suit, as he walked quietly from one end of the library to the next. He found poetry in it, in the consuming silence of the empty place. If he was quiet enough, he could hear the bated breath of ghosts, caught in the binding glue of ancient tomes and within the wood that shelved them. So much potential, lost to a fire that burned with purpose and with passion.

He mourned the extinguishing of it.

Two large columns of faded and chipped alabaster stood erect at the door way, leading from the library to an outside balcony with a railing made of sandstone. A feather-light veil of crimson ribbon hung from a golden rod suspended between the columns, serving as threshold between the inside and outside world. It gently wafted, shadows on the floor showing the curtained transition with whimsical grace. Reverance stood for a moment, watching as it moved before him, and his gaze was longing and empty. As if he had never seen such a thing before.

A shadow moved into view, tall and lengthy - but inherently muscular. The Draethos moved with a speed that rivaled force users, pushing the bottom of his foot hard against Reverance's chest and sending him flying into one of the shelves. Like a series of dominoes, one began to fall after the other.

The Dreathos moved in, impatiently slapping away the curtain, as Reverance huffe and staggered to stand. "You...you kill Samnile? I can't ssssssmell him! Only death!"

Reverance shook his head as the suit groaned, like an old door being opened for the first time in years. The one eyed Sith came to a stand and took a hard breath in. "No. Just the librarian."

"That wasss his name! Samnile!"

"Ah." Reverance opened his eye, like he was stretching, and breathed out slowly. "Well then yeah. I killed him."

The Draethos screamed and much to the Sith's surprise, ignited a blue lightsaber. Stomping forward with the weapon lifted, Reverance was sure he could feel the room shake.