Mission Balmorra: Whole Block Pays

[Darth Grimm]

The illusion fooled even the strongest Sith, and he did not wait or watch Varin's display, but moved past him. Grimm was experienced with dealing with haughty, ill prepared Sith warriors. Once Varin reached the spot where Grimm had been, he was already blocks away. The corpses were inert, with no sign of the insects or their presence - indeed there had been none at all. Instead, Varin's lightsaber cleaved through empty space.

Where just a moment ago, a cloud of buzzing plague flies had erupted, only a courtyard with scattered dead bodies remained. No flies, no buzzing, no bloating, and least of all, no Sith. Grimm had told the truth when he said he had 'no time' for the fighter. His back to Varin, and a good distance away - the distance it would have taken him to walk past Varin at the beginning of the encounter to the end - he continued along towards the Space Port, grumbling and wheezing through his teeth.

He did still clutch his Soul Gem tightly, but his staff was inert, just a blackened songsteel shaft that acted merely as a crutch. His ragged body clamored forward as his hacking laugh echoed between the buildings. Lord Grimm had fooled the eyes of his enemy, and now his enemy lashed out with a series of powers that Grimm would not have even been threatened by, had he been at full power.

The ancient Sith Lord's mocking laughter erupted, echoing off the walls of emptied buildings as he left the scene. He continued forward, not caring to hurry his pace or change his stride. He was hunched over again, and hadn't even put down his collection of drafts and blueprints. So little did he think of Varin that he had simply... left.

The illusion left the stink of Sorcery around it, that sickly aroma of waning death that permeated the original illusion, simply fading, but it left behind the Sith Lord's aura, a gut-wrenching sense of unease that was the power of a Dark Side Adept.

There was still much distance for Grimm to travel. If Varin wished, he could follow Grimm again and engage him once more, but Grimm had showed part of his hand. Very likely he would just waste Varin's time again, playing with him like a loth-cat with a loth-rat.

"If thou art so keen on dying, boy, try thy hand upon me again," he cackled, but did not stop.

The power he had exuded before seemed to wane until it diminished into just a spark, a spark that Varin had to concentrate on if he even desired to sense the presence of the Dark Lord. Perhaps Varin would reconsider a Sith Sorceror who's illusions were powerful and skilled enough to fool even his Dragon's Eye.

"Buried, says he!" He mocked echoingly, "Necromancer, says he!" He laughed even harder at that. Grimm's power at it's height, could have ripped a solar flare from the very Sun above, and ended all life in the system. With the Soul Gem, he could manage - perhaps - a tenth of that power, but he had no doubt that it was enough to defeat a mere Apprentice.

Grimm's shoulders shook as he laughed. He clearly did not take Varin seriously as an opponent.

​

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber


His saber passed through the illusion, the pyroclastic flows from his cloak grabbed a hold of nothing, Varin's momentum stopped as soon as he felt no purchase. The wind from his speed freezing past him in a heated gust.

He heard the mocking laughter echo from the emptied and dead buildings. His body slowly turned around to see the old man walking down the street past him, as if nothing had happened.

“Buried, says I.”

He spoke quietly as he disengaged his saber, clipping it to his belt.

“And I intend to make it so.”

His hand slowly extended towards the buildings around the old man, duracrete cracked as durasteel beams groaned in strain. His fingers slowly flexed as small bits of rubble fell towards the streets. People covered their heads and kept moving but shortly after.

CRACK

A violent tremble reverberated from the buildings around the man.

His stance settled as he added more pressure to the supports and the weakened walls, the ground beneath his boots cracking into webs.

Lightning flared off his body in bursts of arc, tracing their fingers along the walls around him, the smoke from his back billowed and writhed as people near him quickly combusted.

Darth Grimm | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Tamsin Starfall | Lysander von Ascania | Acier Moonbound​

 

[Caelis Venn]

Tag: ///OPEN///

The moment the ship broke atmosphere over Balmora, Caelis Venn felt it.

Not the calm, flowing current the Jedi spoke of.

Something sharper.

Heavier.

Alive with conflict.

It pressed against him through the Force like a rising storm.

He stood in silence within the transport hold, red light washing over the interior as the descent alarms dimmed. Around him, other acolytes and soldiers prepared in practiced quiet—but Caelis wasn't watching them.


He was listening. Not with his ears, but with something deeper.

Fear.

Panic.

Pain.

It was already happening below.

---

The ramp dropped with a hiss, heat and smoke rushed in, and Caelis stepped forward. His boots hit the ground, and the galaxy changed.

---

Screams. Not distant. Not faint. Immediate. Every direction at once. Sharp. Broken. Cut short.


The sound of blaster fire echoed between structures, followed by something heavier—collapsing metal, detonations, the unmistakable sound of people dying, Caelis didn't flinch, but he felt it. All of it.


Every pulse of fear in the Force struck him like a wave—civilians running, rebels fighting, lives ending in flashes of heat and light. His breath slowed. He was focused, controlled.
This is what they had trained him for.

---

His gaze lifted, scanning the burning streets ahead as figures moved through smoke and chaos. Some armed. Some not, but it didn't matter. The order was clear.

Eliminate all rebel activity.

---

Caelis stepped forward into the firelight, his presence steady despite the storm around him. His hand lowered to his side, fingers curling slightly as the Force coiled beneath his skin—alive, responsive, waiting.

A distant explosion lit the skyline. Another scream cut through the air, closer this time. He turned his head slightly toward it, eyes narrowing—not in hesitation, but in focus.


"There's no confusion in it," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. His voice was calm. Grounded. Certain.

"The fear tells you exactly where they are."
He took another step forward.
Into the chaos.
Into the noise.
Into the mission.


His expression didn't change—but something behind his eyes did. Something settling. Something aligning.
"They run," he murmured.
He paused faintly.
Then, colder:
"So we follow."


And without another word, he moved into the war-torn streets of Balmora—with his bright red lightsaber ignited and his hood up, his first mission unfolding not as a test…


…but as a beginning. He charged with the other Acolytes and Sith of all ranks around him.

​

​

 

[Elora Praithwyn]

(Wrong place)

 

[Darth Grimm]

Grimm continued his pace, cackling even as Varin readied his next attack. The dark cloaked figure was not truly amused though. This was just an annoyance, and as the energies spread through the buildings, weakening the structures, Grimm knew the Apprentice intended to try and quite literally bury him. "Foolishnesss. Wastefulnesss. Is thiss what the Ssith have to offer now? The flailing tantrums of children?" His staff began to glow dimly, but he did not change his step. The telekinetic flow of the Force spreading through the buildings around him. "Well, a Darth does not babysit."

He could have done a number of things to defend himself but instead, he did his best to ignore Varin's tantruming. His anger though deepened, and unbidden came the natural effects. The sky above began to darken, and clouds appeared to roll in from nowhere, joining the storm already created. Though his inner-power had diminished, it seemed his own effects had great strength. In truth, he had concealed his growing strength as he drew from the souls trapped within the Sith Gem. He had built up his strength even as the visible clues vanished. A Sith Sorceror could hide their aura, could create illusions that made them appear weak even while they greatly increased their power. A power that could rip moons from the sky, and blast away mortals with the mere strength of his hate.

Previously indifferent to Varin, this hatred was increasing, and the Sith Apprentice was playing a dangerous game by giving that hatred a target. Once Grimm had been a powerful Jedi who towed the line between Light and Dark, never truly giving himself over to the Dark Side, but to save his own life and progress his final plans, Grimm had clung to life, and in doing so - like other Sith who had done the same, like Scion for instance - Grimm had found himself on the cusp of near-immortality. As the powers grew around him, Varis directed them into the cracks of buildings and in the structure of heavy debris, Grimm himself took a cup of energy from the Sith Apprentice's attack. One here, another there, and redirected it. Each time he did, the sky roiled and boiled. The clouds which had come from nowhere began to turn a reddish glow, and flashed with energy - revealing faces. Tormented faces that seemed to cry out silently. Yet these would be familiar if Varin had cared what he was doing.

These were the faces of the dead. The souls Grimm had stolen as Varin had slain them. Grimm knew that one thing was more powerful than a stolen soul of a fallen Jedi, and that was a vengeful spirit that had unfinished business. All of these dozens, hundreds of dead had one thing to share with Grimm - and that was their hatred of the Apprentice that had slain them.

Grimm seemed to darken physically. Going simply from a black-robed skeletal creature, to a negative space. A blackness that seemed to absorb any light. It hurt they eye, tricked the senses, and was uncomfortable to look at. The beholding of Grimm made the senses reel. Felt like sickness in the gut and threatened to trigger headaches and migraines.

Yet it felt merely like a prelude to something else.

As if the souls that he was freeing from their captivity were lending him a strength and otherworldly power that threatened to break the natural world.

Willingly.

​

Varin Mortifer Caelis Venn Miasmær Seris Velmora Tamsin Starfall Lysander von Ascania Acier Moonbound

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

​

Theme: Lunatics and Slaves
Tags: Acier Moonbound | Lysander von Ascania | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Caelis Venn
Direct Tags: Varin Mortifer | Darth Grimm

Tamsin was making her way to meet up with others as the rain began to come down even harder, the thunder boomed louder and lightning lit up the sky for split seconds at a time. She felt fear, dread, and anxiety in the denizens of this city through the strings of the web she had cast. Their hearts beating heavy in their chest beating like drums in a frenzy. Her pace was steady but not fast as her feat moved in step with those heart beats.

Her foot falls stopped though and her head tilted upwards towards the sky and the storm she had brought forth. She glared at it as it shifted and morphed into something tainted from perfection. Crimson stains tainted her idea the perfect storm, Faces contorted in her clouds. Then she looked down as her amulet tucked in her armor lit up so bright with a violet light that it made her armor glow.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her eyes flared so bright with orange fury it looked like it might burn right through the visor of her helmet. A rage flowed through her, though not her own it was that demon in her, the monster so evil even the abyss rejected it. It was like nothing Tamsin had felt before; she had seen the demon angry but not like this. It had aided her in creating the storm.

It was perfection in its eyes, meant to be used but not contorted and perverted unless the demon commanded it. You did not mess with the demon's creations without permission. Then the web felt the expulsion of spirits/souls across the web being freed from their prison. It explained why the amulet was reacting, it hungered.

With just a thought the strings of the invisible web that covered the city constricted. Pulling the freed souls into it. Tamsin's eyes flared as she dropped to her knees on the ground, The helmet on her head started to crack. As she pulled the souls that Darth Grimm had freed into it. The sheer energy of it would have ripped a normal person apart, but Tamsin had been constructed by the ancient demon that possessed her.

As she concentrated on pulling the spirts into the web and then into the amulet that hung around her neck, the one her sister had given her, the Demon spoke out telepathically into Varin Mortifer 's mind but not to Varin but to the dragon.

"Awaken Ignati, I am Rhand, I am the Witch'ari, I am the The Demon of retribution, I am The Goddess of Destruction." As these words where spoken images would flood Varin's mind from the atomic fires on byss wiping out billions in seconds, the shredding of the Planet of Csilla, Ziggurats of Korriban being ripped from there foundation when the crusade attempt to destroy it, the total destruction of Panatha and the civilians there being slayed in there escape ships, and finally the obliteration of Exegol. The Demon in Tamsin had been there for them all and played their part. Plus, a thousand more worlds just like those had seen the demon's hand of destruction. The vision was mere seconds, but it felt like lifetimes. "I need a Dragon of destruction to wipe this city from existence. To destroy that which perverts my will and I have chosen you. SO, AWAKEN!"

As the energy of the souls flooded into Tamsin web and into the amulet around her neck, the little girl dropped her hands to the ground now in a crawling position. Then let out a loud echoing scream as the helmet on her head shattered and her eyes flared as bright as suns about to go super Nova.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH….!"

Her hands touching another one of the invisible strings and forced the souls energy was taking into her amulet back out along the string and poured that energy back into Varin to super charge him flooding him with so much raw power that the ground shook, buildings crumbled, and the duracrete streets began to crack along the line of the invisible string of the web. The Demon could rip this world apart right now but would settle for the city and the one who perverted her storm. The demon spoke under Tamsin's own breath as her flaring eyes staired at the cracked ground. "They want to see what a God can do. They have no idea."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

Theme​

The storm turned crimson, tainted with some older form of dark side prowess. Faces contorted and attempted to wail in pain, fear and agony, but would suffer screaming in silence as thunder boomed through the clouds and lightning cracked the sky.

All the while the old man's presence started to shift. Varin was starting to realise the frailness of this man's body was but only surface deep. He seemed to scream with the Force. It changed him drastically.

Varin drew his saber and his blade back to a defensive stance, settling his feet into the ground. Then the voice happened.

An awakening

Something within Varin stirred as if it were merely resting within his very mindscape. An ancient entity born of radiation and flame, one who tore himself from the core of a planet as a birth then devoured its sun.

Chains that had bound Varin to the Draconic entity rattled as the voice rumbled within his mind.

Awaken

The weakened chain flexed and rattled.

Devour

A crack within the link before it shattered.

Burn

Varin's head pulsed with a stabbing pain that caused him to reel, a yell ripping from his chest as beneath his armor the runes pulsed then began to harden his skin. Cracks developing over his flesh pulsing with an internal glow like a dying sun.

He dropped to his knees as he retched the mouthpiece of his helm, opening up just in time for him to reject what little food he had eaten beforehand.

Another scream followed by a guttural growl of pain as his helm cracked. Two horns pierced through the phrik armor plating of his helm, curving in a graceful arc backwards the gradually back up. The plating of his armor creaked as sharpened scales pushed through the mesh plating beneath.

Red arcs of lightning shot between his teeth as he looked up towards the old man.

Oh you are just a treat Rhand of the Witch'ari.

His voice rattled even within their minds as he chuckled. The cloak of smoldering heated smoke flared to life in an explosive flame like solar flares. Slowly they began to take shape, skeletal wings made of flame and surrounding the bones where flesh would have been was the smoke taking the form of those same screaming faces.

Varin's grip tightened as his fingers gripped into the duracrete beneath him. A primal roar bellowed from his throat, inhuman and monstrous as a massive bolt of destructive red lightning burst forth from his jaws towards the old Sith.

Tamsin Starfall | Darth Grimm | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Acier Moonbound | Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Balmorra - Sobrik

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace continued forward as the district tightened around him. Resistance shifted more in shape than intensity, forming and reforming along the narrowing streets. He adjusted where it held, letting the rest fall behind him without slowing.​

​

The change in the air came gradually. Rain began to fall, light at first, then heavier, pulling smoke downward and dulling the skyline. The temperature dropped with it and thunder rolled in the distance. Ace registered it without looking up.​

​

It didn't feel entirely natural, but it wasn't immediate. So he kept moving. The comms came through shortly after, Varin was on the other line. Ace listened without breaking stride. The update was brief, followed by a second clarifying a delay. Something had pulled him off course.​

​

::Understood.::​

​

The street opened, then narrowed again, forcing movement into tighter lanes. Ace stepped through it, clearing resistance with the same measured efficiency without slowing.​

​

Then he sensed a disturbance in the Force. It wasn't aligned with the structured resistance he had been moving through. It was denser than that. Layered. Volatile, but not without cohesion. Varin was part of it, but the other presence wasn't familiar.​

​

Ace let his attention settle on it briefly, measuring distance and direction. He was close enough to reach if he diverted. He considered it but ultiamtely moved on. The objective hadn't changed, and neither had the cost of losing it. Whatever was unfolding would resolve or continue without him.​

​

The storm intensified as he advanced, but it wasn't just weather anymore. There was structure to it: threads, faint but present, stretching through the district. Not interfering, but connecting.​

​

Ace slowed. His attention shifted, following the pattern rather than the path ahead and recognition came quickly.​

​

Dathomir. Not in name, but in feeling.The pull. The layering. The way the Force was being shaped through something older than control. For a moment, the present overlapped with memory.​

​

Clan Vethrisa. Dathomiri witches had cast a looming shadow over his entire life.​

​

His grip on his hilt tightened slightly. The reaction came and was shut down just as quickly. The storm remained. The threads remained. And whatever was driving it... was dangerous.​

​

Ace exhaled slowly, focus returning forward, though the awareness didn't leave him. He activated his comms.​

​

::Varin.:: A brief pause followed. ::What the hell is happening?::​

​

Varin Mortifer | Tamsin Starfall | Darth Grimm | Lysander von Ascania | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Caelis Venn ​

 

[Caelis Venn]

Tag: Varin Mortifer Tamsin Starfall Darth Grimm Lysander von Ascania Miasmær Seris Velmora

Caelis moved like a shadow carved from lightning.
The storm above Balmora raged without mercy—thunder cracking across the sky as rain hammered the shattered streets. Fires still burned in the distance, their glow fighting a losing battle against the cold blue flashes of lightning. Screams echoed through the ruins.

And Caelis ran toward them.
His crimson blade snapped to life with a violent hiss, bathing the rain around him in red. Water turned to steam as it kissed the saber's edge. Each step was precise, driven—not reckless chaos, but sharpened intent.

Behind him, other Sith advanced, a tide of darkness sweeping through the broken city.
Ahead—movement.

A cluster of fleeing civilians rounded a corner, panic written into every motion. One turned, locking eyes with him for a fraction of a second.
Caelis didn't slow.

The Force surged through him—cold, electric, alive. Fear, pain, desperation… he felt it all, and instead of turning away, he pulled it in. Fed it. Let it sharpen him.

His blade cut once.
Clean.
Efficient.
The body hadn't hit the ground before he was already moving again.
Thunder roared overhead.

Another figure lunged from the side—desperate, armed, foolish. Caelis pivoted, his saber carving a burning arc through the rain, ending the attack before it began. Sparks and steam burst outward as metal met plasma.

He exhaled slowly, almost steady despite the carnage.
"This is what they feared," he muttered under the storm, voice low, nearly lost to the thunder. "Not power… but inevitability."

Lightning split the sky—and for a brief moment, he stood illuminated in its glow: black robes drenched, red blade humming, eyes fixed forward with unwavering purpose.

No hesitation. No doubt. Only the mission.
Caelis stepped over the fallen and pressed deeper into Balmora, the storm and the slaughter moving as one around him.

​

​

 

[Darth Grimm]

"Pure theatrics," grumbled the dark creature from within his negative space cloak, as he saw the Apprentice sprout flaming bat wings, but as this happened, so too did the crimson lightning arc powerfully from the hands of the boy. A power grew inside the apprentice, some Force Demon of flame rent from the core of a planet and given life within him. Grimm had encountered Force Demons before, ancient creatures who ruled the Galaxy before civilization had arose. Likely they had been defeated and contained by the Rakata, but there was no record of that conflict even in Grimm's day.

Things were getting somewhat out of hand. If he stood his ground, he might still defeat the apprentice, but then he would drain his Soul Stone and perhaps the entirety of Balmorra of life, and though Grimm was an ancient Sith, and ancient Sith typically weren't concerned with such things, Grimm hated wastefulness... and that was all he saw here. He shed his encumbrance. His blueprints and books, fell tumbling out of his arms, and he gripped his staff, glowing now a bit brighter with Sith Runes. He placed the staff in front of him and twisted it, cracking the ground beneath and grounding it into the dirt. Grimm could feel the presence of other powers drawn to the conflict, but now he had to deal with the Apprentice's wild lightning-breath attack.

It struck the staff, drawn into it, where it crackled and snapped loudly. Grimm himself flashed and smoked as the power coursed through his own body, but the bulk of it was redirected. The red lightning arced away from him and struck the ground and some of the buildings around him, dislodging fascia and casting stones and plaster and durasteel away from him. The lightning became a shield, and then that shield briefly flickered and then burst.

At last, the show was over, and Grimm stood, smoke curling from his robes, but he seemed none for worse-the-wear. His head raised, momentarily distracted. "Two more cometh," he muttered. "Three will only delay me further. I sshall withdraw." His staff glowed brightly now. This time, no illusion.

Some Runes remained inert, but now a great number of them were glowing brightly. Some were for protection - those glowed dimly - still others were for the accumulation of power, and others were completely alien. Some of these Runes were not Sith Runes at all, but were from the Temples where the doorways to the World Between Worlds stood. These ones had gone from red to pure white.

Only a scholar of great knowledge and ancient study would know what they were, for the World Between Worlds was crafted by an unknown Force Sensitive species, and very few conventional Force Adepts - even of Grimm's era - knew of the existence of such places and such symbols.

Grimm stood tall, his staff igniting the Lightsaber Pike atop it, which looked different than it's illusory version. The red light pulsed with energy. Unevenly, as it contained a somewhat rare and unconventional 'bled' Khyber crystal. Certainly not as rare or unique as the ones the Dark Lords of this era used, but still unusual and especially rare for the days before the Jedi Civil War.

Now crackling with power, Grimm raised his pike, spun it above his head, then slammed the head of it against the ground, causing a vibration to ring through it. What looked like an ordinary pikeman's kata at first, turned into something else. A demonstration of the weapon began to trace red lights in the air, and those red traces did not disappear, but formed into the Runes that adorned his staff. One, then two, then three traced into the air and then formed into a single Sith Word. A Word of Power.

Finally, Grimm raised his spear overhead and slashed vertically from top to bottom.

The runes dissipated and all that was left was a fissure in the air. A blackened and negative space that crackled with energy and wailed as if alive, complimenting his own robes, which retained their eye-defying blackness.

Grimm did not hesitate, but instead his body vanished all at once into the rift, which swallowed him as if it were the maw of a ravenous beast and then - as if the Universe crying out to correct itself - the rift screamed and quickly shut, leaving the courtyard empty except for the angry Apprentice, and the fluttering blueprints Grimm had come to Balmorra for.

Wastefulness... more wastefulness.

​

Varin Mortifer Tamsin Starfall Acier Moonbound

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Seris Velmora Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer Darth Grimm Tamsin Starfall Miasmær Caelis Venn

Before the rain battered his armor, something else warned Lysander of the coming storm. There atmosphere shifted with a nagging wrongness he couldn't deny. The first sign manifested on his HUD. Static slashed across the targeting display that blinded him momentarily, which was enough to irritate the young Sith. A few seconds of blindness was a few seconds where death could find him. His jaw clenched behind the vocoder. The dying screamed; the living would soon join them.

Another disturbance rippled through the slick streets: Varin and an unknown presence. Two Sith dueling in the midst of his operation. So fething predictable, really. That disturbance could be chalked up to his own command failings, fodder for some rival to justify a challenge later. Which was fine with him. Ambition without talent was suicide.

Kill-zones began snapping shut just as they were designed to. Troops advanced in tight formations, driving rebels into narrow lanes despite the storm's haze. Even through the downpour, Lysander watched every piece slide into place. Nearby, a trio of acolytes fell back under blaster fire from high ground. No surprise there, considering the storm warped depth perception. The rebels were exploiting the crumbling structures.

Static crackled in his comms like breaking bones.

::Charges have been placed on the norther overpass. Standing by on your mark.::

He shifted his gaze to the tactical overlay. The containment ring was nearly sealed.

:Bring it down. Let them feel what it means to be trapped.::

As he moved, he spotted a lone acolyte still holding formation. One competent soldier among a sea of disappointments. Between Sith infighting, unchecked sorcery, and the city's collapse, every functional asset was vital.

A hand flicked to his belt. The lightsaber clasp released, and a crimson blade snapped to life with a hiss, draping him in bloody shadows. He strode deeper through the street, feeding a dark satisfaction, each strike lethal. One helmet split diagonally; the other chest cavity opened before a scream could form. The bodies went limp at his feet.

Stepping up to Caelis Venn , his head rotated slightly so that he might capture the young man's gaze. Coldness pooled in the hollow of his throat and down into the chest. "Acolyte," the vocoder rasped, "with me."

The commlink was activated. ::Acier. Let's clear a path to the command tower. I want to watch the light leave their eyes personally.::

Now, Lysander could see the operation's endgame. The coolant infrastructure would be their next target. Once that was hit, the rebels would have no choice but to converge. A perfect killing ground.

Additional insurgents materialized in the path ahead, falling behind the blue glow of a personal energy shield, forming a phalanx. They begin advancing as one.

​

 

[Caelis Venn]

Tag: Lysander von Ascania Seris Velmora Darth Grimm Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer Tamsin Starfall Miasmær

Rain lashed against Caelis Venn’s faceplate, each drop hissing as it struck armor still warm from the last life he’d taken. The storm wasn’t an obstacle—it was a veil. A gift. It drowned out the weak, the hesitant… and sharpened everything that mattered.

He had already felt it before Lord Lysander spoke—the tremor in the Force, the clash of Sith wills somewhere beyond sight. Petty. Distracting.

Caelis didn’t turn his head toward it. Let lesser minds fracture over dominance. His purpose was here, carved in blood and obedience. Blaster fire screamed past his position, splintering durasteel behind him. The acolytes who had faltered moments ago were already forgotten—dead or soon to be. Caelis had not moved with them. He had held. Anchored. The storm bent around his focus, not the other way around.
Then came the voice.

“Acolyte… with me.”

Caelis turned sharply, crimson blade already ignited, its glow cutting through the rain like a wound in reality. He dipped his head just enough to acknowledge the command—not submission, but alignment.

“My Lord,” he answered, voice steady beneath the helmet, untouched by the chaos around them.
Ahead, the advancing insurgents locked shields, blue light shimmering as they formed their desperate line. Organized. Disciplined.
It wouldn’t matter.

Caelis stepped forward without hesitation, placing himself half a stride ahead of Lysander as if daring the enemy to test him first. His saber angled low at his side, rain streaking off the blade in vapor.

“Their formation is rigid,” he observed coldly, watching the phalanx advance. “It will break.”
The Force coiled around him then—tight, suffocating, eager.
With a sharp thrust of his right hand, Caelis unleashed it. Not a wild surge, but a focused hammer. The front line of the shield formation buckled as invisible pressure slammed into them, feet skidding against the flooded street. Their cohesion faltered for a fraction of a second.
That was all he needed.

Caelis surged forward into the opening, blade whipping upward in a violent arc. The first shield flickered and died as its bearer fell in two halves. He pressed in close—too close for their formation to recover—turning their unity into a liability. Crimson light carved through armor gaps, limbs, throats. Every strike deliberate. Efficient. Merciless.

Between motions, his voice cut through the comms, calm and unshaken:
“They hide behind unity because they have nothing else.”
Another rebel fell, screaming as Caelis drove his saber straight through the energy barrier and into the chest behind it.

“We will teach them the cost of that illusion.”
He didn’t look back to see if Lysander followed.
He knew he would.
And together, they would turn the street into a graveyard worthy of the Sith Covenant through sheer bloodshed and destruction.

​

​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber



A clash of power erupted into the street. The crimson lightning pulled to the staff, arcs of red energy snapping l, crackling and hissing as it was partly redirected. Impacting buildings and then ground. Whatever dust came in contact with the lightning was instantly crystallized into a crimson glass that clung like tiny diamonds on the walls, as if they themselves were wounded and bleeding.

He felt the power withdraw within the man. Runes flared some brighter than others along his staff. Varin knew he was planning something. His hands flexed as the ground began to crack, a tremor heading towards the ancient Sith.

The tremor arrived too late. The Old Sith having ripped a portal of sorts into what seemed another world before he stepped through, closing just in time before the tremor erupted in flame where he once stood.

The ground shook from the disturbance before his comms came to life once more.

It was Acier's voice.

Varin let out a frustrated growl as he noticed his opponent had opted to disappear. Papers flying into the wind from where he had once stood.

“Merely a distraction, Ace.”

Varin's gaze looked up towards the ruined buildings and at the thunderous clouds above.

The streets littered with bodies thrown about in different states of burns. Some even down to their skeletal form.

“On my way to you now to clear a path.”

He stretched out his senses, the super heated tendrils of black smoldering smoke running along the ground like eels searching for the most optimal route for him to take.

Finally he found it.

He could feel conflict with two familiar figures just a few blocks away. Lysander's force signature along with Acier's.

The force surged through his body as he sprinted through the streets, a strong gust of heated wind following close. The smoldering cloak surrounded his body making it difficult for riflemen to target him with blaster fire.

They would see a massive black cloud barreling towards them as whoever seemed to touch the cloud would be engulfed in flame.

Darth Grimm | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Lysander von Ascania | Acier Moonbound | Tamsin Starfall | Caelis Venn​

 

[Allan Alhune]

THEME​

His form simmered after Varin had left. Witnessing the conflict that had just happened brought a cold smile to his lips. Canines lining his jaws slowly cracked through his smile.

“Interesting…”

The ruffling of loose paper pushed by the wind caught on his ankle. The rustling paper crinkling and folding over making noise drew his violet eyes downward.

“You seemed quite important to the old man.”

Slowly he knelt down picking up the papers and blueprints.

“Droids and factory equipment.”

He flipped through each page his eyes scanning each detail with quick efficiency.

“But what was that crystal you were holding? Such great power held within the palm of your hand. Powerful illusions and of course the ability to absorb such volatile energy.”

He stood up looking to where the Old Sith had disappeared.

“And you know of The World Between Worlds.”

His voice remained low and quiet as he spoke to himself. The shuffling of feet approaching him followed by a snap hiss of a red lightsaber.

Allan did not look at who approached, did not even acknowledge them.

“Die rebel scum.”

Allan slowly stood after the boy spoke.

“Lovely. My own dinner comes to me.”

His eyes turned to the young Sith, his weapon raised in a defensive stance.

“I bet you believed you had such promise. That you would have power.”

Allan began to approach, stuffing the papers into his cloak. With a quick flick of his wrist the Sith's stance became rigid and locked in place.

“Lies.”

He walked around the paralyzed Sith as a claw from his finger gently ran around the back of his neck. Slicing into flesh. Deep enough to draw blood, but not to kill.

He could hear the Sith's heartbeat start to race as he struggled to speak.

“Sh sh shh…You will face oblivion soon child.”

He stood behind the Sith, the metallic hand from his prosthetic arm tilting the Sith's head to the side ever so slightly.

“Healthy too. You will make a fitting snack.”

Without warning Allan's jaws clamped onto the Sith's neck. Drawing forth from the wound the life water from his body. The young Sith slowly grew paler as he struggled to scream. Within seconds Allan ripped his head up, blood trailing down his chin as he tossed the body to the side.

“You were destined…for disappointment.”

Darth Grimm Mentioned​

 

[Seris Velmora]

Tag: Lysander von Ascania | Acier Moonbound | Varin Mortifer | Darth Grimm | Miasmær | Tamsin Starfall

Orders. They lingered longer than the bodies ever did. Seris moved through Balmorra with purpose she didn’t enjoy. The streets had already been broken open—lines shattered, resistance scattered, the city bending under the weight of the assault. Lysander’s commands still sat in the back of her mind, persistent and irritatingly clear.

Push inward. Regroup. Converge. Structure. Direction. She followed it anyway. The storm rolled overhead like something alive. Lightning cracked across the skyline in jagged veins, each strike illuminating the skeletal remains of industry and war. Rain came hard behind it, thick with ash and debris, turning fire into steam and streets into slick, choking corridors.

Seris tilted her head slightly as thunder followed, slower, heavier. Better. Still not enough. She vaulted a broken barricade and landed into a forward stride, aligning herself with the flow of the battle rather than cutting across it. The others were ahead—she could feel them through the Force, distinct currents pulling toward a single convergence point.

That was where she was supposed to go. Then movement broke from the edge of her vision. A group of opposition fighters—organized, not fleeing. They had taken position along a collapsed transit lane, using the storm and smoke for cover, trying to hold a secondary route. Not panicked. Not broken.

Seris slowed. Just enough. Her gaze fixed on them as they shifted into formation, rifles coming up, posture tightening with intent. They were ready for something.

They weren’t ready for her. Lysander’s orders pressed at the back of her thoughts again. Regroup. Push forward. Don’t waste time. Seris exhaled slowly.

“…after,” she said under her breath.

She broke from the path. The first bolt came wide as she closed the distance, cutting through rain and steam. She didn’t deflect it. Didn’t need to. By the time the second shot came, she was already inside their line.

Her sabers ignited in the same motion. Red tore through the storm. She hit them fast—too fast for their formation to matter. A strike across the first, a pivot into the second, momentum carrying her forward before either had fully registered what was happening. She didn’t stop to finish cleanly. Didn’t slow to control space.

She pushed. Harder. Blaster fire snapped around her, tighter now, more desperate. One clipped close enough to burn across her side. Closer. Better.

A laugh slipped from her—low, sharp—as she drove forward again, forcing them back step by step. One tried to disengage, to break for cover. She followed. Of course she did.

The corridor tightened. The fight compressed. It became simple again—motion, pressure, impact. The storm roared overhead, lightning flashing through the broken skyline as her blades cut arcs of red through the rain.

For a moment—just a moment—it was enough. Then it ended. It always did.

Seris stood there, breathing steady, sabers humming as the last of them dropped. The storm pressed in around her again, louder now that the fight had gone quiet. Too quiet. Not enough.

Her gaze lifted. The battle had moved. She could feel it—clearer now, directional. The others were already deeper in, converging exactly where they were meant to. The shape of Lysander’s plan tightening whether she cared for it or not.

She had fallen behind. Because she had chosen to. Seris clicked her jaw once, irritation flickering across her expression—not at the delay, but at the necessity of correcting it.

“Fine.” She turned sharply, breaking back into motion—this time aligning with the current instead of cutting across it. Faster now. Direct. Reluctant.

She vaulted up onto a fractured support frame and launched across the gap into the next sector, the storm tearing at her as she moved. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the path ahead—and the pull of the others waiting there.

More. More conflict. More. Seris dropped back into the advancing line without slowing, sabers still burning as she pushed toward the convergence point. She would follow the plan. For now. As long as it kept leading her to something worth taking.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Balmorra - Sobrik

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace continued forward, the resistance thinned in places and tightened in others. It no longer felt like a scattered engagement. There was structure to it now, even as the storm pressed down over the district and distorted the field.

The comms cut through the noise. Lysander. The directive was clear: advance, clear the path, push toward the command tower. The end of the operation was beginning to take shape.

::Acknowledged.::

The response came easily. What didn't settle as cleanly was everything beneath it. Through the Force, he felt it more clearly now. Loss. Threads, faint but constant, snapping one after another across the district. Some close. Some distant. Some so brief they barely registered before they were gone.

It didn't slow him, but it didn't disappear either. Ace kept moving, stepping through another narrowing lane, clearing what resistance remained without changing pace. The storm, the battle, the comms, all of it layered together. He stayed within it, focused on the objective, letting the rest fall into the background.

Varin's voice came through next. A different tone. Frustration, contained but present. The distraction had passed. He was moving again.

::I hear you.::

The street ahead opened into a wider section of the district, though the damage had reduced it to little more than broken duracrete and scattered debris. Movement flickered at the edges - Covenant forces advancing, resistance collapsing, lines breaking where they could no longer hold.

Ace adjusted his path slightly, continuing forward along the route that would take him deeper toward the command structure. His pace remained steady, his focus fixed. Then something managed to catch his eye, temporarily breaking his focus.

Ahead and to the right, partially obscured by the remains of a collapsed structure, a group of Acolytes and a rebel who'd been forced to the ground, disarmed, already beaten down to the point where they couldn't meaningfully resist. The Acolytes circled, closing in without urgency, without purpose tied to the mission.

Behind the rebel, a family. With children. Small enough that the difference didn't matter. The Acolytes didn't distinguish, nor were they going to.

His gaze shifted once between the two. The route to the command tower remained clear. The objective hadn't changed. Every second spent here was distance lost, ground given back to resistance that would regroup if left unchecked.

But then... the acolytes, the rebel, the family. The outcome was obvious.

His grip tightened slightly around the hilt at his side. The storm pressed down, the battle continuing without pause around him. Comms remained active. The path forward remained open. So did the one to his right.

Lysander von Ascania | Caelis Venn | Varin Mortifer | Seris Velmora | Tamsin Starfall | Miasmær​

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

​

Theme: Lunatics and Slaves
Tags: Acier Moonbound | Lysander von Ascania | Miasmær | Seris Velmora | Caelis Venn | Varin Mortifer

Hands and knees on the ground she breathed heavily, the air temperature had dropped low enough now that the breath made steam when connecting with the air. The glow of her eyes slowly began to dim as she just stared down at the cracked duracrete beneath her. Even the glow of her amulet started to dim.

A low growl of disgust hummed in the back of her mind, the demon seemingly disappointed in the outcome of their actions. Tamsin head pounded in pain as she crawled a few feet before attempting to push herself back up to her feet. Through blurred vision she saw the shattered pieces of her helmet along the ground.

She staggered and stumbled as she tried to get back to her feet. Her pace was extremely slow as she reached out to grab hold of building to help her stand. Yet as she did the building crumbled and she fell back to the ground. The building had crumbled in front of her due to the sheer magnitude of power she had forced through the ground.

She found herself staring at the ground once more. The Girl that was Tamsin wanted to cry out, wanted to scream for help. She couldn't, no she wouldn't. Part of her knew no one was listening, no one cared. The Demon was right in the end she would be alone, the only one left to fight the fight that needed to be fought.

She managed to stumble back to her feet, blurred vision looking towards the blacks where the fighting was taking place. Rain was in full down pour now turning into heavy sleet that could be heard plunking down on durasteel roofs and siding. She could feel the destruction in the city, the death, and fear as well as the web corrected itself, yet it was not enough for the demon inside.

She managed to push herself forward towards the others though her voice comms were destroyed with her helmet so she could not tell them she was coming. She looked down at her wrist computer as she pulled herself forward. She reached down and only punched in a few words. :: Begin Phase two :: She told herself no more distractions as she typed it in.

As she did so, no message was sent back it didn't have to be, she could feel it through her web as it began to happen. Far above the planet a single old Victory Class star destroyer came out of hyper space. It launched four heavy transport ships from it that headed for the surface with a single squadron of support bombers. Though the bombers were not for the city only for defense to take out anti air weapons so the transports could land. Though tracking through the storm would be just as hard as flying through it.

It would take a moment, but she knew she would get a signal once the transports landed. She pushed on as she neared the blocks of conflict as rebels tried to scramble or and form up into a push to try and fight back. They looked at her and only saw a little girl with diming strange eyes. One of them even yelled at her to get the hell out of there.

Weakly she raised both arms with her hands in the shape of finger guns towards the group trying to form into something of an organized fighting force. That's when one of the rebels saw the blood on running down Tamsin's face from her weird eyes and nose. She stood there staring them down with her finger guns out as she listened to see if she could notice any of the other sith approaching.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Caelis Venn Acier Moonbound Tamsin Starfall Seris Velmora Miasmær Varin Mortifer​

Lysander's ears rang with the phalanx shields humming through the rain. Vibrations were crawling up his spine like a premonition. The storm's static still scraped across his comms raw.. the sound of teeth grinding against sand. Bodies hit the ground with wet slaps as the Acolyte carved forward, and between the meaty impacts came the plunk-plunk-plunk of sleet on rooftops. Time became vicious. The rebel's shouted orders became distorted.. stripped of all meaning.

Looking forward, he saw the phalanx breaking, tiny fractures spiderwebbing across the formation. Like flesh peeling away from bone. The Force pressed forward in a dark tide, and he rode it, surfing the crest of violence with a hollowness in his chest. There was no sense of triumph. Only steps behind the Acolyte in how shadows followed the night, before driving a front kick into the nearest shield. The carrier toppled backward, dominoes of mismatched armor falling inward. A sculpture of severed limbs followed.

The red blade of his curved hilt followed up in another murderous arc that harvested sparks. If the hungry Acolyte wanted to be the spearhead, Lysander had no qualms becoming the shaft. Together they would become a two man engine that understood only execution.

Somewhere nearby, Darth Lunaris lurked. There was something wrong with her.. damaged, or cursed in ways he couldn't quite name. Still, this was the former apprentice of Darth Anathemous, the very Sith Lord who had first pulled him into the Covenant. What he felt wasn't loyalty, no, something closer to recognition.. which was far more than most Sith received. Perhaps, that was why, for a split second, he almost altered course, though he knew she required no aid. Around the same time, his HUD flickered, flagging incoming ships breaching the upper atmosphere. Reinforcements for their crusade.

And finally, the coolant lines ruptured with a loud hiss. Behind the phalanx, the storm detonated. Structures collapsed like crushed origami. Fire was geysering through the sleet. A scream pitched upward into something inhuman. Three figures, clothes and hair transformed into torches.. staggered across the street.

He watched it all before dropping a single word into the comms. ::Forward.::

An affirmation of what they all knew. There was only one path to the tower.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber


He could feel them. Lysander was making good time, good distance. Beside him was another signature of killing instinct and intent. Their blade as sure as their decisions.

Acier, he could feel there was a pause. Varin's head twitched towards his direction.

He spoke to him through his comms.

“Ace, almost there. Prepare any trooper or acolytes near you to shield their eyes.”

His comms cut as the rushing cloud of blackness surged through the streets. Screams surrounding him of fear and agony. His momentum carried almost like the rush of a high weighted bomb.

His hand slowly reached to his back gripping the handle of his mace, drawing it forward as he neared a wall that flanked a squad of rebels near Acier. A yell bellowed from his chest as he slung the mace into the wall. The combination of his strength and momentum blasting forth like an explosive fury that sent shrapnel of duracrete and shards of glass flying into each rebel's back. The building cracked and rumbled with the surge of energy trusted upon it.

Varin stood behind them as the smoke cleared, his saber hilt drawn at his side and silhouetted by smoke. The wings upon his back flexed as flame seemed to crown his horns. The saber roared to life like that of a beast.

“Reporting for duty.”

He spoke towards Acier, his eyes more animalistic than they were once before as the new surge of power flowed through his veins.

And it felt good

Miasmær | Darth Grimm | Seris Velmora | Caelis Venn | Tamsin Starfall | Acier Moonbound | Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Balmorra - Sobrik

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

The path ahead was still open. Everything the mission demanded. To his right, the outcome was just as clear, just not structured. His gaze shifted once between them, the decision sitting there, simple in form, heavier in execution.

Then the comms cut through.

::Forward.::

Ace let out a quiet breath. "Shit."

He stood there for a fraction longer. Then he moved. To the right. His pace didn't change as he closed the distance toward the acolytes, the rebel, the family. He didn't get far.

Varin hit his senses before anything else did. Loud. Violent. A presence that tore through the field without subtlety, closing fast. Then the comm followed. Ace didn't hesitate and impact followed.

A violent crash as Varin tore through the street, the wall beside a nearby squad of rebels collapsing inward under the strike. Duracrete and glass erupted outward, the shockwave scattering anything left standing. Ace turned just enough to watch it resolve.

Smoke rolled and flame cut through it. Varin stood at the center of it, silhouette broken by horns and heat, presence carrying through the space like pressure. Ace's expression didn't shift.

"You love to make an entrance." He said, deadpan.

His attention snapped back. The acolytes had stalled. Varin's arrival had broken their rhythm, pulled their focus outward. But the rebel was still down and the family hadn't moved. The window wasn't going to last.

"Hey!" His voice cut across the space. "Leave them. You heard von Ascania. 'Forward.' Now move."

It was enough. They knew better than to defy him, and to defy Lysander. Even more so with Varin present. Ace's gaze dropped to the rebel, brief and direct, then a small tilt of his head, pointing away from the command tower.

He turned back to Varin. "I wouldn't bother with them. No honor in killing insects. Let's get to Lysander."

It wasn't what he believed, that they were insects, but it was close enough to something Varin might accept. Ace didn't wait for a response. He turned and continued forward, this time aligning with the route toward the command tower, leaving the space behind him to resolve as it would.

Varin Mortifer | Lysander von Ascania | Caelis Venn | Tamsin Starfall | Seris Velmora | Miasmær​