Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Blood for Blood | SO

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Darth Malum is Gone.

Months of Silence. Months of Debate.

It is clear now that the Tsis’Kaar must seek change.

But Under Who?


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A signal, constantly repeating, now calls all Assassins, Spies, and Inquisitors to return to the hidden fortress of the Tsis’Kaar on Fiviune to decide the future of the organization. Many thought that a new claimant to the Tsis’Kaar throne may have appeared, perhaps a scion of House Marr or the remaining Apprentice of Darth Ophidia, Darth Strosius.

Instead, the upper echelon were ushered into a chamber to be met by the Corpse Lord and his dark triumvirs.

In truth, Darth Nefaron had long planned to destroy not only the Tsis’Kaar but every member of the House of Marr, be they by blood or by title alone. To the gathering, Nefaron and his allies offered a choice.


Bend to the will of the Dark Lord or die.

The chamber erupted into cries, be they of anger or fear or pronouncements of loyalty. But in truth, the purge had already begun, as the forces of a shadowy alliance began to move against all remaining Tsis’Kaar holdings.

Those trapped on Fiviune would die in the dark.

But other worlds still hold, though they can no longer cling to the banner of the Tsis’Kaar. The organization must now divide between the Terror Lord of Anoat and his new Triumvirate or the heir of Darth Ophidia.

Regardless, the death of Malum’s dream was at hand.

And with it, the legacy of Darth Ophidia



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The Fall

As the Tsis’Kaar dies, opportunity for many arises to curry favor with those who will fill the void. Strike down those who refuse to bend the knee, and the shadowy alliance formed by Darth Nefaron would be ever grateful, or remain true to the heir of Ophidia and aid the remaining Tsis’Kaar loyalists in returning to Darth Strosisus' side.

Regardless, many worlds are now ripe for plundering as Tsis’Kaar authority collapses.

OBJECTIVE 1: Alvaria: Personal abode of Darth Malum, a treasure trove of artifacts and finery that is ripe for the plundering, be it for the loyalty of the opposing factions or for personal gain.

OBJECTIVE 2: Fiviune: Primary Headquarters of the Tsis'Kaar and currently under siege by the forces of the shadowy alliance headed by the usurper, Darth Nefaron. Tsis'Kaar loyalists who wish to join with Darth Strosius Darth Strosius are desprate for aid, while others flock to the Corpse Lord's banner.

OBJECTIVE 3: F'tral: An Underwater Research Facility under siege by the labor droids of Helix Solutions, a treasure trove of data and closely guarded technology awaits those who can defeat the rebelling labor droids.

 
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Objective 1: Fivinue
ALLIED TAGS: Helix Helix Lirka Ka Lirka Ka , OPEN
OPPOSITION TAGS: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius , OPEN

Long had Nefaron waited for this day.

Though he had not planned for Malum's disappearance, it could not have come at a more opportune moment. Of course, he was patient; he had sent out his spies and waited for any hint of the Lord of the Tsis'Kaar, only to be met with silence. If he were to secure his place, he would have to move now.

And move he did. Along with his allies, the War Marshal Helix and the newly crowned Imperiator Lirka Ka. With them in tow, the time had come to put an end to the dying beast that was the Tsis'Kaar.

It had been under Nefaron's watch that the remaining loyalists of Malum were brought together, a secret closely kept as the interim "Grand Vizier" of the Tsis'Kaar prepared to bleed the organization of its resources, its manpower, and, more importantly, deny these things to the true heir, Darth Strosius. It would be impossible to hide this from him, but if the Corpse Lord struck first, then there would be little left for the fool and his cult to inherit. If there was to be a schism, then it was better that Nefaron made the first move.

So he did. Standing before the great chamber, flanked by his conspirators, and secured by those loyal to him and a number of his own personal army, the Corpse Legion.


"I will say it again. Bow to your new masters or be destroyed."
The Terror Lord had abandoned his civility with the carefully manufactured persona that he formed to gain entry to the organization and now appeared as he truly was, a Dark Lord who had little more than contempt for the followers of Malum. He would reforge those who were intelligent or ambitious enough, but the rest were little more than dead weight that needed to be done away with.

Such a thing occurred even as he spoke, as the Corpse Legion and allies of the Dark Lord began to purge all those deemed unworthy of salvation into the new era that was being forged. Even know the screams of those felled by the monstrous soldiers of Nefaron echoed outside the chamber, the distant sound of battle reminded those gathered that this was very real and their choice would determine their future.


"The age of weakness is at an end. No more are we bound by civility, by codes of honor, by loyalty to a dead woman's ideals or the false words of her failed apprentices. This day we bring forth a new age, an age of dominance and terror, an age that will see the Sith at last claim this galaxy and destroy the fire of hope for all time!"

Nefaron practically roared, hands outstretched as if he was giving a grand performance in a Coruscanti opera.

"How long have the Sith traded blood for blood? How long have we allowed ourselves to be bound to weak and false tradition? Bend your knee to the new age, or be burned with the legacy of Darth Malum!"


 
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OBJECTIVE I: Alvaria

"Moving into position, by your will."

The Eschaton-class Star Destroyer, Obsidian Vow, moved into Alvaria's orbit at a glacial pace. It's imposing silhouette cut through the cirrocumulus clouds like a knife, contrails dancing around it's angular form as squadrons of Disciple-class Interceptors buzzed in coordinated patterns. Far below the destroyer was the Sanctum of Malum Marr, now a branded foe of the Empire he'd so meticulously schemed to control. Now, all that had crumbled away, revealing the rot at the heart of the Tsis'kaar.

Others moved to cannibalize the fallen Sith's belongings elsewhere in the Empire, but the Kainate had come to this world in particular above all others. The lair of Marr held within it certain treasures that the Dyarchy of the Kainate wished to covet, and had brought with them the means with which to take it for themselves. A strike force of Blackblade Guards awaited, assembled in the Obsidian Vow's hold as the ship meandered into place.

As the destroyer coasted to a stop, the signal was given to commence with the operation. Ventral cannons pivoted in their moorings, aiming down towards the fortress many kilometers below. Ammunition cycled within hidden munition banks, for the Kainate wished not to wholly annihilate the fortress with a single blow. Their aims were far more surgical, and their means more insidious.

Unlike standard mass-drivers, which delivers a single concentrated projectile, the cannons brought to bear against the Marr fortress were designed to fragments it's payload into hundreds or thousands of penetrators from the upper atmosphere. These descend in a controlled cone pattern, blanketing a target area with localized, hypersonic strikes that not only collapsed armor and disrupted electronics through pure kinetic force, but also destroys the environment through kinetic saturation.

The air heats up as they descend, forming shock-domes that detonate even before the first penetrator strikes. The pressure wave alone flattens vegetation, pulverizes rock faces, and whips dust and debris into a rising stormfront that darkens the sky and blots out the light from the nearby sun. Everything outside of the fortress' protections was flattened and ground up by repeated kinetic strikes, the ground eviscerated with thousands and thousands of cratermarks as it rained hot, burning metal.

After a half-hour bombardment, the cannons fell silent and returned to their resting position. Rapid-insertion drop-pods then launched from the Obsidian Vow, surging down at hypersonic speeds before impacting the land around the fortress and even into the fortress itself. From them emerged KNT Mowhef battle droids, hulking two-hand-a-third meter tall automatons armed with heavy repeating blasters and bladed forearms. Their laser-reflective armor plating shining with the light of dozens of blasterbolts ricocheting off from every direction.

Behind them came the dropships and other transports, deploying the Blackblades directly onto the field as the heavy disembarking ramps clattered to the ground. At their back were the Dark Valkyries, the winged shock troopers of the Sith Dyarchy's personal guard. They too would emerge, striding side-by-side into the ionically charged air.

From Darth Carnifex, the Eternal Father, came a single command.

"Kill all those who raise arms against us. Shackle those who do not. Tonight, we tear forth the tree, root and stem."


 
Prophet of Bogan

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Objective: 2 Fiviune
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron / Lirka Ka Lirka Ka / Open!
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The Ouroboros snapped its jaws shut once more. Twice now the Sith Assassins had found themselves with a vacant leader, a weapon without a wielder to point them at a target. The transition of power after Ophidia's demise had been messy and fraught with splinters that had to be smoothed out. Culled in blood and blade. The transition of power after Malum's unexpected absence might very well be the end of the Tsis'Kaar as a whole. Darth Strosius certainly had no plans of continuing it, at least not in any recognizable form or function.

Much like He had done with the Inquisition in the wake of His master's downfall, the Lord of Wonosa had come not to sit on the throne of Assassins but to cast it aside and reforge them anew. Unfortunately it seemed as though He wasn't the only one intent on doing so, and even more unfortunately He wasn't the first to act either. Darth Strosius had heard the call to Fiviune and arrived intent on bending the Tsis'Kaar to His will and designs and yet now He found Himself in an all too familiar position.

On the back foot yet with the right to rule firmly in His grasp. Were it not for the pressing matter of apparently having to save the Tsis'Kaar, and not from themselves as He had intended, then He'd have time to think on the drollness of the circumstance. At present though, He was kicking open the doors to the great chamber using the body of a monstrous creature as His preferred instrument. "Nefaron! I can hear your blithering even amongst the din of battle. Shameless cur."

Lightsaber in one hand and sword in the other the last Heir of Ophidia strode into the chamber, heedless of the Corpse Legion and their accursed forces battling elsewhere in the fortress. Primarily because He had brought His own contingent intent on storming the place but which now would aid in the defense against the tide. "You're not the harbinger of a 'new age' , you're the coward that waited to strike until you thought yourself unopposed." Rather than walking around the meeting table He scaled to its top with a seamless leap.

"You even stand shoulder to shoulder with the hound of the Old Guard's most vile member. There is nothing 'new' about what you've wrought." Across the table He marched, leaving steps echoing with the sway of heavy robes as His wings flared and His lightsaber was leveled towards the Corpse Lord. "The Tsis'Kaar are mine. Now get the feth off my planet."

 


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Objective: Fiviune
Gear: Lightsaber;
Armor
Tags: Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron // Darth Strosius Darth Strosius // Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer // Lirka Ka Lirka Ka // Open!


An era of change was falling upon the Sith Order; wars and rumors of wars, skirmishes and alliances forged in the shadows. Revna received the whispers, felt the tremors through the fabric of the Force. The Weave, as her dear friend Lady A’Mia called it.

Some might have been disturbed by the changes, the upheaval…but conflict was where the Sith thrived. Those not strong enough to stand against the tide were buried underneath it, allowing others to rise to new heights. It was just the way of things.

Revna pondered these things, along with the seeming disappearance of her own cousin, Darth Malum, while she and her own Disciple, Varin Mortifier, joined her Father on a mission to help Him lay claim to what was left of the Tsis’Kaar. He was the sole Heir of Darth Ophidia left…and that meant the Tsis’Kaar rightfully belonged to Him. Revna hadn’t been back from the warfront for too long before the news reached the Order of Wonosa. Of course, the to-be Queen of Korriban didn’t hesitate to lend her aid to Darth Strosius; His fights were her fights.

And that was how she found herself upon Fiviune, the home of the Tsis’Kaar.

But it appeared that Darth Strosius wasn’t the first one to set foot upon the planet. Someone else was here, and the echo of death, fear, and pain battered against Revna - stirring the Void within. Screams filtered into her ears as she and her Master marched straight through the Headquarters, and it didn’t take long to figure out just who had shown up before they had.

A flair of hatred and disgust flashed through the Sith woman; the Corpse Legion was here.

That meant that the foul and horrid Darth Nefaron was present, surely. Though a spike of anxiousness did pierce through her at the thought that maybe it was Veradun here instead of his master. She had heard what her own brother had done on Eos; the betrayal still cut deep. Oh how she wanted to rip out Nefaron’s throat and watch him choke on his own blood. Maybe she would get her chance here, this day. If it was Veradun that was at the front of this however…well, she wasn’t entirely certain if she could kill the young man she had saved on Tund some years prior. The last time she’d seen him was when he was headed off to the Academy on Jutrand.

Oh how things had changed in her absence.

Revna steeled herself for whatever was to come; she allowed her hatred for the so-called Corpse Lord to fester…even allowing the dark emotion to bleed over to Veradun too. There could be no love in her heart if she was to put her saber through his chest.

Fortunately, it was not Veradun who was trying to bend the Tsis’Kaar to his will, but his master instead. Darth Strosius kicked in the doors to the main Headquarters, lightsaber and sword in hand as He made His appearance to challenge Darth Nefaron. Revna’s deep crimson blade ignited with a prick of her thumb and the necessary blood offering needed to initiate ignition, as she flanked to the right of the great and long table that her Master had leapt upon. She didn’t need to look at nor direct her Apprentice; he would surely know from his fight on Eos just who to kill in this place: the Corpse Legion of Nefaron, and anyone who would side with the wrinkled sack of ugly.

Revna was silent as she stalked behind her enraged Master, listening to His venomous words that were lashed against the Lord of Terror. A coward indeed, I can’t believe my brother would be so stupid to fall for this trash and his charms, she mused darkly to herself, taking stock of the chamber and its occupants as Darth Strosius leveled His lightsaber at Nefaron and made it clear that the Tsis’Kaar belonged to Him, and ordered the rival Sith Lord to get the feth off His planet.

Despite the roiling wrath and hatred that simmered underneath her skin, the Disciple of Faith maintained her position and withheld any form of violent aggression…until it was needed anyway. She doubted the Corpse Lord would simply walk away and leave Fiviune as ordered, and surely a nasty fight was ahead of her and the rightful Heir of the Tsis’Kaar. The tension was thick, and she knew it wouldn’t take much for the place to descend into total mayhem.



 

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Allies: Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron | Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex | Revna Marr Revna Marr | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
Location: Space - Nerby Systems
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The holofeed flickered before her, each projection a different battlefield: Fiviune, Alvaria, and F'tral.

Each of these planets had once whispered of an alliance or, at the very least, an allegiance to a name that was now only spoken in elegy. Darth Malum, gone. She knew not whether he lived or if someone had taken his life, only that he no longer responded to her call. For the Empress, it meant that he was as good as dead…Because the only way he would ignore her, of all people, was if he could not speak.

If he could not think.

His shadow lingered, however, the kind that made lesser beings tremble, and the ambitious salivate.

Srina Talon watched in silence.

The cold of her command throne on the bridge of her ship was intentional. No warmth. No comfort. Only steel, frost, and the low hum of engines that steadily pulsed. She did not flinch at the sight of Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron 's corpse legion burning through Tsis'Kaar holdings, nor at the sight of Darth Strosius Darth Strosius reclaiming what he deemed his by right. She had seen this before. Over and over, like seasons in the dark. Her eyes drifted toward Typhojem…The faithful AI that often drifted between herself and Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex . He was her company when the living proved…Inadequate.

"When the Sith eat their own, they call it progress…", she spoke softly, eyes like molten gold catching the blue glow of the holos. "And yet, when they starve…

A light exhale.

"They wonder why there is nothing left to consume."

Her words were not bitter. They were plain. Fact. The Sith were predators…That was their truth. But, predators that had turned inward forgot the hunt. They forgot the Empire, the Order, and their enemies that still watched from beyond the stars. Srina saw scavengers pecking over a carcass that still twitched—the corpse of a House not yet fully dead, its blood still wet on the floors of Fiviune.

Malum had been many things...Brilliant, unpredictable, and arrogant beyond sense. He had been her reluctant student and a steadfast guard after the battle of Echnos left her wounded and frayed as the effects of using a Phobis Device wracked her body. It had been the cost for defending the Order, a price that she had met gladly. It was her duty to absorb the hellfire that came for them. Her purpose was to draw the line in the sand, to keep her children, all of them, close at hand.

Malum…Was gone. That was her failing. But…He was still Sith. The way they desecrated his remains, his legacy, and holdings was an insult not only to him, but to the principle of power itself. Power was meant to be taken, not scavenged from the bones of a fallen brother. She reached up and brushed lengths of ivory hair behind her ear…Recalling the many, many times she had done something similar for the former ruler of these systems. The hand in her lap became a fist, her flawless countenance cracking, briefly, exposing too much of her inner self. Empyrean would know what that face meant…

But he was not present.

"Deploy observation fleets to Fiviune, Alvaria, and F'tral. If they destroy one another, so be it. But if either side threatens to fracture what remains of command or the flow of resources, they are to be silenced."

A pause…Weighted, but not without merit.

"And request that Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex return any artifacts to the Order rather than burn them. It is a waste."

Srina leaned back in the seat, eyes closing, as the cold light of distant stars brushed her face. The Sith would feed as they always did, become carrion lords, and proclaim themselves masters of their domain. Not realizing that their weakness was showing. Any of them could have made a move against House Marr in all the time it thrived—But it was only now, they dared, when the systems were defenseless and without means to rally a response.

"Sleep well, little prince."

Her eyes slipped open, softened, but not with mistaken sentiment. It was sorrow. The rare kind that was reserved for those who had seen too much of history to ever believe in change. She wondered, idly, if this was how Sith of old felt before their empires began to crumble. Watching their kin claw through ash, mistaking ruin, for ascension. "Record it all Typhojem…"

"Every act. Every word.
Record it all."

She did not desire the stolen power that the others fought for and would have no part in trying to claim it. Srina had never needed anyone else and had instead learned to lean on her own strength. For these events, she would not stop them in their lust for more, indulging in their true nature…

But…The Empress was watching.
 
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//: Objective 1 //:
//: OPEN //:
//: Alvaria //:
//: Protect the People //:
//: Attire //:

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Quinn never thought something like this would happen. Malum had been consistent in the Order for as long as she could remember. Even while in exile, the boy-king had often made calls to try to get her to leave her room on Jutrand.

He had always been the silent figure that lingered in her shadows, even when they weren't speaking, when she had finished their dance and walked away. He was still there, still someone she could depend on.

But now he wasn't.

The moment she needed him the most, he was gone. Her frustration echoed in the halls of his palace, a place she had visited once. That night, she had wondered if his feelings were true or if they were imagined. Like a gentleman, he refused her, and they continued their dance. Still, he had been her first friend, one who had been loyal even with his secrets.

Her anger continued to bubble under the surface of her composure. All he had to do was reach out to her; Quinn would have done what he needed to help him with whatever was happening. If the wolves were at his door, she would have taken him in, helped protect him.

"You idiot…" She mumbled under her breath as she continued down the long corridor. The wolves were already here; they were breaking down the door, and the master of the house had fled. He had left everyone to fend for themselves, without a sense of direction. Perhaps it was how he felt; maybe he believed this disappearance was for the best. She had already been feeling the doubt within his heart before all of this had happened.

It wasn't worth thinking about it further. He was gone, and she was left to deal with this. Quinn stopped, looking at the gathering of people that were within the walls of the palace. They had been brought here for a better life after being liberated from Anoat. It was sickening that even under Empyrean's decree, slavery continued. All Quinn could do now was protect them and help usher them to safety.

A finger pressed against the small comm device in her ear as she radioed to her mercenary group, the DeathDrop ( CT-312 CT-312 ). They were loyal to her, and in turn, they were faithful to the Sith Empire today.

<:Make sure the shuttles are protected as we get everyone on board. Some are headed to Eshan ( Everest Vale Everest Vale ) , and others are headed towards the Commonwealth border. :> Quinn nodded as she received confirmation.

<: I'll have to reach out to Counciler Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf and Ivalyn Yvarro Ivalyn Yvarro from the Commonwealth to see if they're open to housing refugees. :> Another nod, and Quinn closed the communication. She moved down the stairs towards the hidden starport that was located within the palace. Malum had escorted her there once when she had arrived to visit his home many years ago.

She tried not to think of him, not now. Maybe things would have been different if her feelings had been there? Even then, they were two different people for things to work; he wanted someone by his side, and she wanted to be free.

Shaking her head, she began to hand out small survival packs that contained food, water, and essentials for the trip. They wouldn't fall into Nefaron's hands again or any other Sith, even if she had to go against some of her biggest supporters.

These people had suffered enough… and they were citizens of the Empire — they deserved their freedom.
 
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// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
//
Objective I // Alvaria // Protect the "People" //
//
Focus // // Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin //




A shuddered breath escaped the small parting of the Echani's lips as she read the orders. The Tsis'Kar, the assassins of the Sith Order, finally being decimated and scattered across history. As little pity as Jorryn felt for their fate, a strange nostalgia filled her chance and fought the grip on her blade.

In a past so far removed that the edges of the memory grew hazy, she had spent many days clashing with the assassins as she led the Saaraisash. Ophidia herself was someone that the Echani considered almost a mentor, bringing her from the depths of an acolyte to someone that could be very nearly considered a Lord.

But the woman was gone now.

And in her place, strange new faces had taken up and led the Tsis'Kar into a cancer that need be removed from the body of the Sith. Jorryn felt ecstatic to finally put her newfound surgical skills to use and excise the parasite.

Fate had other plans for the Echani though.

She stuck to the side of Princess Quinn as they made their way through the estate of Darth Malum with a feverish familiarity. The Princess muttered some words under her breath that escaped Jorryn's notice, breathed only before the girl and the ghost of this mansion's Lord. The former Lord Inquisitor hadn't been familiar with Malum, but the it was clear her charge had been.

"A friend?" The silver-haired Sith pondered aloud.

Perhaps that was what brought them to this place, seeking to salvage instead of plunder. Charity ill-suited the silver-haired Sith, though when the Princess requested her services she found herself unable to deny the act of benevolence. Former slaves, staff, and those caught between rallied behind Quinn, tears of both fear and relief welling in the corners of their eyes.

And as Quinn pulled the sources of relief as they waited to be retrieved, Jorryn found herself unable to partake in the charity. But there was a radiance in the Princess as she assisted those that needed it, the care and attentiveness in her face as she sought to ease the suffering of those they assisted.

The radiance blinded Jorryn, and she averted her eyes before she blinded herself. Before a red blush caught her cheeks from something so simple as charity.

If the noble chose to attend those that needed it, then the Echani held the opposite duty in her heart. Amber eyes carefully glaring up the stairs they had just descended.

She knew as well as her charge did that Malum's estate held far more than simple slaves. The Sith way was consumption, to take anything weak or wasteful and pull it into themselves. Jorryn felt the call in her own chest; to find what the Sith Lord held and take it for herself.

The Echani held a truer purpose than most, a diligent servant protecting her mistress.

It stopped her from serving her baser instincts.

But as the hollering of would-be plunderers came through the walls, as the shaking of the foundation trembled low, the silver-haired Sith knew that this private sanctuary would only remain undiscovered for so long. They were distant still, the long howl of those seeking blood barely a whisper through the stones.

A blade's hilt hung loosely from her hip, fingertips caressing it with intent as she listened to the rushing blood of those that entered drawing ever closer.

"I don't think it will take them long to find us, Princess. As voracious as they are for Lord Marr's secrets." Worry stained the faces of some of those near the Princess, though the Echani's presence seemed to ease them. "We cannot be sure they share your... compassion. Do I have your permission to protect these people as I would you?"

Simple, but damning words. Jorryn asked her mistress if she was allowed to cut down those that threatened them, even if those threats were Sith themselves. Even if they were Quinn's own allies.
 


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Objective I: Alvaria

Death wasn't anything new to her, not anymore. Whether it was taking a life herself or watching someone die, Amara had done both, but this was different - this would be murder. There was an urge she knew people had to compare death through war, through happenstance and violence, to the cold act of stealing the light from someone's eyes but the psychological shift from duty to the sheer intimacy of witnessing someone draw their last breath was truly unfathomable until it was experienced. For the better part of a decade she'd been forced to watch the final moments of so many lives as the woman whose name and vision she had shared hacked people apart, innocent or not, and drained them of every last ounce of life they had until their eyes were glazed and unseeing. The brutality of war, as horrific as it was, had become something close to normal for her - even the idea of fighting to the death, one-on-one, felt like little more than an extension of that - after finally experiencing it first-hand. But this would be taking the lives of people who were too weak to give any real fight.

This would be a slaughter.

It wouldn't make a difference how she felt, of course, which was precisely why she let things play out as they were now. There was her father to consider, too; she didn't quite care for the sudden change in tides within the Sith Order itself but her family was deeply involved so there wasn't any option for her to keep herself entirely removed without risking disappointing Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis . Could she kill for a parent's approval? 'You already have.' She thought, the inner monologue coming to her in her sister's disembodied voice - the sound of which was borrowed by her recollection of their reunion, drawing on the moment she'd removed the strand-cast from her imagined competition for her parent's love as a way to sharply remind herself that this wouldn't be the first for her. Her musings were interrupted as the entire ship lurched as if an incredible amount of force had caused it to shift back. Before she'd even managed to draw in another breath she knew the Vow had scoured much of the surface of the world down below, even if she couldn't physically see it. If there had been any hint of confliction in her eyes or on her face before it was gone now, replaced instead with a rather neutral expression that said nothing at all.

"Do you think they were happy?" She asked, her voice hushed, to keep quiet her rather dark curiosity, as she peered up towards her cousin's face. Her bronze gaze shifted off to the side, towards a viewport, but her eyelids shut to keep her from seeing much else outside of the ship. "That they felt safe, secure, here?" Amara whispered, her voice dropping further still, before her gaze returned to Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex . There was something left unspoken there, the obvious implication that the circumstances for the people down below were experiencing anything but the kind of comfort she was wondering about. She wasn't a machine, the idea of cheerful people dying didn't leave her unaffected, but maybe, she'd said to herself some time before, if they were struggling it might not be so bad. Soon the shelling would stop and the Blackblades would file into their vehicles of entry to join the fray themselves, and right now she expected to be one of them - or at least with them. Would this be just another battle, or would she finally know just how it feels to kill someone who she had no actual reason to except to watch them die?

Deep inside, buried even further down than the part of her that suggested she might not want to follow through with this, was a curiosity to finally know just what it felt like to just kill someone - and the silent hope that the latter would be true to satisfy that wonder.


 




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Tags: Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex Darth Avida Darth Avida Jorryn Fordyce Jorryn Fordyce


He was gone.

Her Master. Her love. The father of her children. Gone. There had been no warning, no communication, she had not felt anything. Darth Malum of House Marr simply fell silent. Ansisa felt like a piece of her had been torn away, a great chasm left in the centre of her heart that ached. But she did not have time to grieve, she couldn't abandon their children and follow some feverish quest of love to chase him down wherever he had gone. No. They deserved better.

She had seen it coming, felt the eyes of the wolves upon them as soon as word of his disappearance had spread, but she had never imagined that the feast would have been full of such savagery. Hellfire rained down upon them, rattling the palace walls, fear shivered through the planet, through those who had relied on Malum for his protection. Anger began to bleed into the chasm he had left, a cold quiet fury. She should never have brought Aureus and Caelia here, she should have left them with her parents, sent them far out of the Order, out of harms way, but he had promised her they would be safe, that they would be recognised as his true heirs.

The throne room served as their base of operations, rapidly thrown together and coordinating evacuations, search and rescue for those who were falling beneath the rubble Darth Carnifex brought upon them. The guard was spread thin, defending and slowing the blackblades where they could. Ansisa had a choice to make. To flee with the others, go with her children, protect them and disappear like he had.

Or stay. Stay and rise up, be the defender that these people needed.

Tiny hands wrapped around her legs, drawing her gaze downward, the twins red eyes looking up at her, depending on her. Her jaw tightened, her hands coming to rest upon their heads. "There is a long road ahead of us, ch'eo en'kin. It starts here. You must be brave while I fight. I will not be gone long and I will return to you. But first, there is someone you should meet."

Ruby eyes shifted up to the holofeed, tracking the incoming Princess and her entourage. "Let us go meet you father's friend, hmm?" As she moved she took their hands, and the Household guard moved with her, sweeping out through the corridors to meet her. They'd never spoken, but Malum trusted her more than others and she needed someone she could trust to watch the children while she did what was necessary.



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“Name to ash. Breath to silence."

The night didn’t come softly.

It arrived like a wound.

Above the darkened world of Alvaria, the stars convulsed, one by one vanishing behind the vast, unseen shapes that bled through realspace like tumors of shadow. The air itself began to hum, a low frequency so deep it rattled glass and bone alike. From orbit, nothing moved; from orbit, then everything screamed.

Then? Then the heavens began to rain knives.

Over a thousand black meteors tore through the clouds in perfect silence, no thrusters, no signatures, no light. Only the thin red glow of runes etched along their bellies, sliding through the atmosphere like veins in a living wound. They struck not as impacts but as infections; each crater bloomed outward with crimson vapor, and from the smoke walked the Shikkari. They didn't announce themselves. They simply were. Shrouded, armored, masked.

The first to appear in Gil Lodihr did so amid a stillness so total that the crickets stopped chirping and the wind refused to breathe. In that silence, the air split open and disgorged veiled figures with blood-matte blades and bone-thread cloths that whispered as they moved. Their presence curdled the light.

One heartbeat. Two.

Then the killing began.

Guards vanished mid-step, their silhouettes dissolving into dust. Wards guttered out as if they were ashamed to exist. The estate's great lamps flickered, and for a moment every window became a mirror, each reflecting a different death happening in the same second somewhere else on the planet

"Name to ash. Breath to silence."


The chant began low, almost tender, as though whispered by the walls themselves. It grew with every throat cut, every soul sealed, every corpse wrapped in the black cloth of the Embalmers who followed like carrion priests. They moved together, the Blades striking in silence, the Embalmers crooning their unholy lullabies as they anointed the dead with oils that smelled of rot and sanctity, sealing souls and weaving curses. A mass reaping unprecedented in history, never before had the Shikkari assembled in such numbers.

Just as the manor started to quake under the beginning assault, the same sound erupted across Alvaria. In Averdon, the markets split open beneath ghost-fire; in Rex Portum, the sky blazed with runes as the magi screamed; in Altum Hortus, dedicated leaders found their tents already filled with corpses that wore their faces. The Reaping had begun everywhere, all at once. The Tsis'Kaar had no warning, no defense, only realization as blood spilled.

Above it all, standing beside the form of the Eternal Father Darth Carnifex, emerging to the battle scorned surface of Malum's estate, stood the Shadow Hanx Darth Prazutis carefully observing. Qâzjiin'vraal consumed the light; crimson veins across his armor pulsed in rhythm with the planetary screams. The Xûl-Karzaan helm tilted slightly, surveying the horizon as fire and ritual flame carved sigils across the surface. Behind him, the Shikkari knelt as one, many masked shrouds pressed to the floor, their weapons steaming with the blood of priests and spies alike, freshly carved from the throats of those within Kainate space.

The Dark Lords voice didn't rise. It descended, heavy as gravity falling over all gathered: "Kissai an'kath. The ledger opens." The sound hit the world like a tectonic shift. Across Alvaria, every assassin paused mid-motion as though the air had turned solid, then resumed with twice the fervor. The chant spread like a plague carried by breath.

"Name to ash. Breath to silence. Debt to flesh."

From orbit, the pattern of fires began to form symbols, vast Sith runes written in the geography of death itself, and yet? The Reaping was only just beginning. The air below howled; the skies tore wider; Alvaria shuddered as the Shikkari flooded its veins. The Tsis'Kaar wouldn’t die in a night. They would die in the telling, each scream another verse, each city would eventually become another page as it all unfolded. As the first dawn tried and failed to rise, the Dark Lord raised his hand. The runes along his armor flared like the pulse of a dying star. The command rippled through every shadow: "Begin the harvest. Leave none unspoken." Just like that Alvaria, the cursed world of the dead, began to drown in silence.


 
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OBJECTIVE 1: Alvaria
Tags: Ansisa Ansisa Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex Jorryn Fordyce Jorryn Fordyce Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin

It was his second time on Alvaria, but this time it was burning. Late, perhaps, but still here nonetheless as the wolves were descending. A gnawing sense of failure consumed him. He still remembered walking alongside Malum among the Tsis'Kaar, their encounter at the Galactic Kaggath, and the reunion on Ukatis. Above all, beyond the titles, the hierarchies of the Sith, Malum was blood. Lysander's cousin. And in all their interactions, he had never once spoken to him as a superior, but as kin.

As one who held family as the truest anchor in a galaxy of ever shifting loyalties, he had quickly grown to look up to him with a reverence that was never voiced aloud.

Now Malum was gone.

Silence where once there had been presence.

And Alvaria, the jewel of House Marr, was under siege.

Boots struck the stone, hand tightening on the hilt of his saber, but he would not ignite it. Not yet. Armored and unyielding, he strode forth with a weight that belied his youth. Inside, his thoughts churned like a raging sea. He knew Malum had children, aware of his legacy, and none of these would fall while he still drew breath. And though he couldn't help but feel that he had failed his cousin in this moment, he held fast to the promise that he would not fail his blood.

It didn't take long for his gaze to find Ansisa, the Chiss woman whose name and reputation had reached even his ears, and as he watched her, cradling the small heirs, it struck him with all the force of a blade to the gut.

That was what remained of Malum, and that was one more thing he was fighting for today.

Unsealing his helm with, he lifted the mask free, revealing a visage set in calm composure. He needed her to see him, not as some faceless Sith, not as a scavenger, but as family.

“My cousin may be gone. But his blood is not. While I stand, Alvaria stands.”

The vow hung in the air like a blade already drawn.
 




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Objective II: Fiviune
Equipment: Himself
Tags: Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron / Lirka Ka Lirka Ka / Darth Strosius Darth Strosius / Revna Marr Revna Marr / Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer


Helix, true to form, was scuttling around in the dark, watching. As a semi-dispersed cloud, he was all but invisible, drifting through the air in a flurry of microscopic particles.

It didn't take long for the expected to happen. There he was, with his motley band in tow. Three against two, now. The nano-cloud vibrated with agitation. He'd put off, deflected, and avoided this moment for a long while, but things were now too far in motion. He'd never much interest in the vendetta against Strosius, had been convinced until the end that he could steer the monster he'd helped create in more productive directions. Instead, he'd lost control of it, or maybe had never truly controlled it in the first place.

It was true, as ever, that one often met one's destiny on the road one took to avoid it.

"You really should've taken my dinner invitation, Alisteri." Helix's voice hissed from the dark, his thousand-fold chorus of a voice honed to a murderous crackle. "It would have saved both of us a great deal of trouble." The colony came creeping across the ceiling of the chamber in a worm-like configuration, filling the room with the sound of a hundred scurrying legs.

Helix released his hold on the ceiling, tumbling toward the floor and retaking his humanoid shape in midair. The colony landed with a suitably-theatrical BOOM of metal on metal.

Purplish arcs of energy sizzled and popped between the colony's spines as he slithered over where he belonged. Right next to the other two monsters in the room.

"But no. Never the easy way. Never the smart way, not for you. I regret that things came to this, but how many chances to see reason must a man receive, before his fate is set?" The creature approximated a sigh.

"We could've settled this intelligently. Instead, it's come to this." Helix sent a silent command to his forces throughout the facility. Makeshift bombs, clusters of Otherplasma reactors, were being wired throughout the place as they spoke. If it came down to it, the colony would bring the facility down on them. It would be a kinder end than whatever Nefaron or Lirka had planned.

"I'll ask you not to speak about Lady Ka that way. Can't we just butcher each other like civilized people?" Remarkably, here at the cusp of his open betrayal, the colony didn't seem especially triumphant or braggadocious. He didn't even seem particularly happy. Just resigned.

"Come on then. We're making history today, for better or for worse." The colony's left arm melded into a long, slender metal blade. Clusters of nanites hummed at high speed around the weapon's edges, creating a whirring blade from which sparks occasionally flew.




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OBJECTIVE 2
ALLIES - Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron Helix Helix
ENEMIES - Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Revna Marr Revna Marr Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer


Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron had a certain flair for the dramatic that whatever piddly amount of Lirka's Sephi blood that remained could appreciate. The coup de grace that would see his machinations come to fruition, and the Dream Eaters of the newly cemented Dzara revealing themselves. The Once-Sephi would've certainly wished to know she was being watched - a showman's flair to add to the butchery. Instead, it was time for it to merely be a chance to cry out, and rattle the chain. The war, only a distant memory to most now, had never truly ended for Lirka Ka. So long had she seen shadowy assassins hiding in every corner - waiting for that moment she stumbled so they could slit her throat.

But no longer.

The fire burned. Black banners would be raised, beneath skies turned blood red. The gears shifted and churned - the Sith consumed themselves once more, as they always did. It was a beautiful thing to see the truth of Darkness laid so bare once more. The weak and the strong. Predator and prey. A chance for the worthy to live and the weak to be washed away in the wake of a growing storm.

Corpse legions and mechanical terrors. Men and monsters that could march side by side to see a new dominion rise. There's a certain maniacal pride that came with such an endeavor - she was free from her paranoias now. A beast that could prance and twirl, do as her dark hearts desired without the fear of assassins nor inquisitors.

In this primal and savage chain, she was free. Bound to the Darkness beyond, and bound to her newfound kindred both adored and reviled among the Dzara.

So it came as no shock that the ever mindless chain-breaker would come to destroy that. Nefaron had been clear of the feuds between the duo, Darth Strosius Darth Strosius had been considered the last obstacle. And here he had come, with blade in hand and sycophants in tow - she was surprised really, she didn't know Strosious had friends.

The Chain and the Chain-Breakers would clash now. In the fires of Sith shattered the fate for what they called the "Tsis'Kaar" was to be decided by the blood spilt upon Fiviune.

He was always so loud, the Lord-of-Wonosa. He spit venom as easily as he breathed, it was charming in its own way. For Lirka could do just the same - sometimes Sith fought with words just as much as they fought with blades.

"Ha! But dear prophet, that is how you win! It is the careful blade that pierces between the ribs, you? You just prattle and scream."

Lirka stepped from the shadows, her own weapon ignited. The machete flared with electro plasma filament, crackling against the air. There was a predator's gait in her step - she was hungry for violence.

"And what are you then, nuisance-of-Wonosa? Look around you! The time has come, change is upon us! The transience of darkness."

She heard the whine, whistle, and thud. Helix Helix had arrived - the triad was assembled. Good. It was to be an even fight. As fun as it would be, it simply wouldn't be fair to batter the Prophet into the ground again. The void of Otherspace rippled between them now, Helix's voidstone form and the gifts he had provided to the Once Sephi in tandem again.

"Do not fret, Helix. My feelings are steeled against the prattle of rodents."

She almost laughed. This hound had cut her leash - and in her freedom she had offered the gift of a Tsis'Kaar marred and broken to the Butcher King. She took stance now, holding her alien weapon in hand with a murderous patience.

"The Tsis'Kaar you claim is gone, we shall smash it to rubble. You will lose, Strosius. Give up these foolhardy ventures, become a link in the chain. Join our family."

It was an almost idiotic thing to ask. But it would have been grossly unkind if she didn't at least attempt to extend her hand to the misguided fool - all could become Chainbound, after all.

 
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"For I was there. Even as my body remained elsewhere, I was there on Alvaria, watching through the Force. Waiting. Ready, always, to tip the scales in my favor. In our favor."
—Darth Caedes, ruminations...



The Obsidian Vow shook beneath a percussion of steady fire; the clunk and shift of internal machinery underfoot, felt deep within the Star Destroyer belly as engines flaired and cannons released their merciless salvos down upon an unsuspecting world. At last, the Tsiss'Kaar and their incompetent networks would be snuffed out for good. At last, something new could be born from their ashes.

Half-shrouded in the gloom of the bridge's viewport alcove, the King of Korriban stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, adorned in golden-threaded robes displaying the iconography of Korriban's sacred Horuset. Reflected light licked across his scaled cheekbones, catching the faint gleam of that serpentine aspect he rarely bothered to conceal anymore. His eyes, molten and unblinking, drifted from the carnage outside to the two figures who commanded it, Sith Lords Darth Carnifex and Darth Prazutis.

It was a sight both magnificent and exhaustingly familiar, for genocide had long lost its sense of novelty for the King.

Alas, the Tsiss'Kaar holdings had stood for too long, a bastion for cowards and petty gentry, its nobles and spies clinging to the husks of forgotten fame and once prominent bloodlines. Now, as their spires buckled beneath the kinetic force of Kainate mass-drivers, their vaults raided and loyalist agents chained and slaughtered by war droids, Caedes could not bring himself to feel pity; only a kind of cold and intellectual satisfaction. The Kainites had chosen their moment well, by his estimation. While Malum's bloated fleets were out prowling the galaxy, making pointless threats and displays of grandeur, summoning heralds to proclaim his greatness and espouse an overlong, ill-earned list of titles and estates, his home burnt and fell, unattended, behind him. The Tsiss'Kaar's destruction did not feel, to Caedes, like the typical, simple minded and predatory infighting so common in their Order; it was a declaration. A new Order was rising. The tides were shifting, and those who were not careful would be pulled down in the undertow of this steadily mounting momentum.

And yet, even as he watched, detached, he reached out with his feelings—stretching into the Force with a remote vision unabated by long distances. He was there, his presence lingering in the screams of dying people, rising with the war droids from smoking craters, peering out across the carnage and reveling in the personal victory of (once again) outlasting an enemy foolish enough to place himself against the King of Korriban.

He drew in a slow breath, the corners of his mouth curling into something just short of a smile.



 
Objective 2
Allies:
Revna Marr Revna Marr Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
Enemies: Helix Helix Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron Lirka Ka Lirka Ka

Lina had never chased power, she had long settled in her belief that titles were merely targets painted across one's back. For her, a title would be a distraction, something to pull her away from her own goals, it would slow down her ability to slip between shadows and listen to the things they whispered. But for others? For others they were a necessity, a right or even something granted by birth.

Wherever Malum had gone, whatever had happened to him, they perhaps would never know. Lina could not deny the touch of sadness that she felt at hearing the news. Theirs was a complicated relationship at the very least. To see all he had built and worked for torn asunder by vultures rose a quiet but deadly anger in her.

Neither titles, nor anger drew her here today. No, today she came for Him. Lord Strosius had an opportunity to reclaim what had been lost in the wake of the kaggath, fate had entwined their path, and while she had no idea where it was taking her, she was never one to deny the pull of the force.

The room darkened, shadow coalesced beside Revna rising to form a doorway for the Sith Lord to step through, her eyes already set in the obsidian that matched the darkness that twisted with her will, thin veins spidering away the glittering orbs as she cast her gaze over the room, the door collapsing into a pool at her feet. Her head titled listening to the prattle of those who stood in His way.

“A corpse, a droid and an abomination…there’s a joke here, that much is clear. I believe the Lord Strosius made himself very clear, leave or be removed, from this life and the next.”

Twin sabers slipped into her palms, their ignition adding to the gentle hum of waiting death in the room.
 
Location: Gil Lodihr Airspace - Alvaria
Thread Objective: 1
Mission Objective:

  • Establish Kainate air superiority.
  • Initiate air strikes against designated targets.
  • Engage Tsis’Kaar targets of opportunity at will.
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis Darth Caedes Darth Caedes Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin Ansisa Ansisa Srina Talon Srina Talon
Call Sign: Fragile Dancer

Kainate starfighters roared through the darkened skies in the wake of the kinetic strikes, manifesting as daggers dancing across a canvas of dying stars. Seela Leini flew among them, delicate hands guiding the yoke of her Xarûl-class starfighter as she scanned the tactical phantoms dancing across the Nether Eye’s tactical display. With Kainate drop pods having already touched down on the surface, the priority now shifted towards securing the airspace.

And Seela was one of the pilots chosen to enact it.

<<Airfield sighted.>> Seela murmured. She caught sight of humanoid figures through her electrovault scopes. Pilots scrambled to their craft as ground crew and droids rushed to prepare, fueling up the starfighters.

She would not grant them the sky.


<<Engaging ground targets!>>

Two missiles with fragmentation warheads screamed out from the pods at blistering velocity and raced towards their targets. Seconds later, Seela watched as twin flowers of fire and shrapnel bloomed in her scopes before fading. She made a silent count. Four Huntress-class TIEs and three Locust-class droid starfighters had been reduced to steaming debris. All the while, the mangled bodies of several groundcrew and pilots lay strewn about the wreckage. However, not worse than the blast itself was the confusion left in its wake. In the place of frantic, desperate action to save lives, she saw disorientation. Even those who were physically unharmed walked about aimlessly, silent screams on their lips. A technician repeatedly bashing his head against a wall. A pilot curled in the fetal position. A marshaller fleeing blindly into the surrounding grass.

She thought of delivering another missile, if only out of pity.

However, it was then that her tactical display lit up with fresh contacts which were immediately registered as two squadrons of Huntress-class TIEs—likely scrambled from another airbase nearby. The crafts’ stealthy, low profile design had briefly inhibited their detection via sensors. However, the Wraith Sense had registered a micro-shift in the local air pressure, cluing the Shadow Mind to their arrival.

<<I have air targets!>> Seela announced, her voice calm. She held her vector, watching the range indicator tick down as the enemy fighters closed the distance. As their sensor signatures grew larger in the display, she locked onto them and gave the command to fire. A pair of Fearburst missiles surged out from the pods, screaming towards their targets.

<<Fox three, fox three away!>> Seela broke hard to port, her starfighter carving a graceful, perpendicular arc away from the enemy as she watched the projectiles find their mark.

What she witnessed was not an explosion in the traditional sense.

Instead it was starfighters veering wildly off-course as their pilots were seized by a collective, screaming madness. The metaphysical shockwave of weaponized dread washed over them, shattering rational thought and replacing it with paralyzing terror. Three of TIEs collided in a tangle of fire, while the rest broke formation, spiraling towards the ground in terminal arcs.

A series of distant, fiery blossoms marked their graves on the ground below.


<<Splash eight.>>

Craft: Xarûl-class Sith Starfighter Mk. II
 




A spectacle indeed from both sides. Never in his whole life would he ever admit it out loud but Lord Strosius and The Corpse Lord had one thing in common. They loved their theatrics. Even the cloud of bugs had a thing for theatrics. Quite a spectacle the droid had shown. Far more advanced than most droids he had seen.

He watched it all unfold before his eyes. Drinking in every bit of detail, studying. That was until the third individual spoke. His eyes flicked over to a heavily armored individual. Roughly Varin’s size. Something about her words irked him. Smoke billowed from his back as he watched the individual draw their weapon. Instantly Varin responded by igniting his saber. The blade roared to life like a turbine showing off its white pristine blade, before bleeding into its maroon hue and graduating to a hum. His other hand drew his heavy mace from the holster on his back, the offensive end igniting in flame.

He was silent as he glared down the armored individual slowly walking along the side of the table. A surprise guest joined in the room seemingly from out of nowhere, or worse. She made her demands known, giving them a choice. Truth be told, Varin didn’t want them to have a choice.

This scum snuck in while it was not at its full strength, seemingly to take it all. A spineless act. It all reminded him…

Varin's heart began to pound, not from anxiety or fear. Running through his veins and the fiber of his being was pure rage and disgust to be in the presence of such display around him. Again.

Slowly without saying a word he leveled his saber towards the armored individual. His eyes began to give a coal-like glow as the smoke from his back began to spread around the floor, the heat in the room beginning to rise.

His grip tightened around the handle of his mace, the leather wrap creaking under his fingers.

It would seem you are but a hound boy, held by a leash. Only it is held by your hand…Let it go.

Ignati’s whispers polluted Varin's ears and for a moment all of the noise in the room ceased. All he could hear was his breathing and his heartbeat, slowly elevating. He was ready to rip and tear, to burn and incinerate. He was ready to kill. No choice of escape must be given to them, they need to die. Every one of them standing in opposition to his master and grandmaster.

The thoughts transitioned from his voice to something not his, as if being taken over.

Another home. Defiled. Desecrated. Make them pay.

 
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Objective 1: Fivinue
ALLIED TAGS: Helix Helix Lirka Ka Lirka Ka , OPEN
OPPOSITION TAGS: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius , Revna Marr Revna Marr Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer , Lina Ovmar Lina Ovmar


"Ah, I was wondering when you'd come!"

Nefaron, despite it all, seemed rather pleased that Darth Strosius had come to disrupt his plan. He'd even gone so far as to bring along his lickspittles, servants too blind to see the failures of the High Prophet. It mattered little; the Terror Lord had no desire to turn these lost souls back to the true path, so instead they would die along with their master. As a courteous host, Nefaron allowed Strosius to spew his accusations, his insults, his claims to the throne of a dying organization. He only dug himself a deeper hole with each spoken word, and the Corpse Lord was delighted with his fury.

"Your planet? My friend, I think you have deluded yourself into believing that you have a claim to the corpse of the Tsis'Kaar."

The Corpse Lord was silent as his allies slipped from the shadows. Helix and Lirka Ka were indeed formidable, and oh, how Nefaron hoped that Helix's slights would strike at the rotting heart of Darth Strosius. Perhaps that was too much to ask, but he could dream, could he not?

"My friends, it appears Darth Strosius is blind to our new way. But are we surprised?"

Nefaron turned to the chamber now, the grumbling assassins and agents that debated which side to take. Even as they faltered, Corpse Legionaries began to enter the room and flock to their Master and his conspirators. Still, Nefaon did not seek to strike first; he had far more to say about this false claimant to the throne of the Tsis'Kaar.

"This man lost his chance to take the Tsis'Kaar when he chose to participate in that pathetic Kaggath. The whole Empire witnessed the failure of Darth Strosius, and how grand it was! Oh, how I remember poor Veradun, how distraught he was-"

Casting his dead gaze at Lady Revna, his broken maw fixed into a horrid smile.

"But he learned that day that Darth Strosius was weak. The Order of the Wonosa is weak. Is it not the way of the Sith to dispose of weakness when it arises?"

At last, Nefaron turned to the masked High Prophet, stepping free of the protection of his allies and servants to confront the fool. This would be no Kaggath; the Corpse Lord had no intention of giving the fool a battle he could win. He would strike at his beliefs; he would employ doubt and words to poison those who would take to Strosius's cause and turn them against the very man they wished to serve. Can he really trust a band of murderers to hold to oaths when their home burned? As ships from across the Empire arrived like carrion birds to pick clean the organization they had dedicated their lives to?

"I say this to all in this chamber who wish to see the sun rise. If you wish to prove your loyalty, then there is a price I will accept. Kill Darth Strosius, cast his corpse to the void, and ensure it stays there. I won't have you come back a second time, you foolish animal."

As he spoke, the Corpse Legionaries moved first, charging toward the High Prophet and his allies, terrible blades raised high. But Nefaron would not run, at least not yet, for there was a great opportunity to strike a blow this day that would echo across the galaxy. All would know the Corpse Lord's terrible ambition and that it was he who would bring forth a new age for the Sith, not the fool who clung to honor and tradition. A hilt slipped from his cloak, and a crimson blade ignited. Darth Nefaron would enter the fray with his terrible speed and unquestioned joy for slaughter.

"Lady Ka, I believe it is time that you had your chance to put Darth Strosius down permanently. Lord Helix, let loose your most terrible weapons, let them feel the power of our new age."

 
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Objective: 1
Equipment: Lethal Pursuers, vibro-sword, blaster pistol, mask
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Tag: Open

"How do I turn these Tsis'Kaar notifications off? Another meeting?!" Eira growled as she stared at the invitation for a meeting. It was calling all members of the Tsis'Kaar, as well as assassins, inquisitors and spies. Eira had accidentally found her way into the Tsis'Kaar when she was seeking ways to explore and work on assassin missions as an early acolyte. It had been Malum who suggested the path and the Sith Lord seemed to take notice of her on a couple of occasions though she never got the chance to find out why. "Need to talk to Quinn about how you mute these meetings." Eira mused to herself.

It was only a few hours later that she had heard that the invitation was not extended by Malum and that immediately triggered a red flag in her mind. If the former leader was missing, this call was more than likely a trap. Given how open it was and how public the call had been. Eira knew she needed to steer clear from where that meeting was going to take place since it would be far too dangerous for her to attend. Clashing of Lords who wished to fill the void. More than likely falling into the void.

Infighting amongst the Sith was becoming all too common place as well, the young Sith assassin had no patience or time for it now. She was fed up of every meeting she attended falling into spats and declarations of war. There were larger threats out in the galaxy. Threats that were only going to gather forces while things crumbled within the Sith Order.

Visiting the place where Malum called home, seeing what that looked like, it was a pull that Eira could not resist. She doubted that she would find anything of worth and anything she did find would be given to Quinn. Eira knew her Master had some form of connection with Malum, what that was, she did not know but she had seen the two of them interact before. It was clear that she had not been the only one to visit the former home of Malum, Eira could sense the many powerful Sith Lords on the planet. Including her own Master's presence in the Force. Quinn hadn't mentioned she would be here, but Eira should have realised there was a chance.

"How does a leader of an assassin order live? Secret doors and passages in every room? Hidden compartments? Hmmm... If I had a droid or two, I could have started scanning the place to build a blueprint of the location.... Maybe in the future." Eira thought aloud to herself as she moved through the chaos around her as if it was a normal day. There were no concerns or desires to do anything other than explore. The assassin just focused on what she was here to do. Fingers lightly tapping against the hilt of her daggers.
 

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