Public Bring your Kills, Gain their Power (open to drop-ins and passers-by)

[Velok Brokentusk]

OOC/ If you've played Valheim, you already get the idea. In that game, you hunt bosses, take trophies from them, and gain a unique power from each one. I've done some RP on the premise that the Veloks can make that happen.

This is basically a version of the fortune-telling thread, where each visitor gets a quick exchange and winds you with a unique Force blessing/talent/curse/quirk/affinity/power based on the kill they bring. As with the last thread, I'll handle each visitor in a separate instance/timeline unless otherwise requested. As with the last thread, I'll use AI-generated art to flesh things out tastily.


IC/

TASH-TARAL—

—one of the few ancient Sith worlds not currently under the thumb of those who would erase its heritage. Dozens of varieties of Sithspawn stalked the desert ruins. To Velok's eye, Tash-Taral was much like Korriban, just...purer, before a hundred invasions and purges and such. Pure but also very quiet. The place made Mos Espa look like a bustling metropolis.

"Dark side Jakku," he chuckled under his breath to nobody in particular.

He'd set up his fortune-telling stall in a threadbare little spaceport. Tonight his sign read:

BRING YOUR KILLS AND GAIN THEIR STRENGTH
100 UNDERWORLD CREDITS PAY WHAT YOU CAN
ALL BLESSINGS AND CONCOCTIONS FINAL
NO REFUNDS​

A cauldron bubbled behind the stall. Acrid green steam blurred the stars overhead. Fresh blood marked the stall's warped counter. Velok sharpened a gigantic knife with a whetstone of Svolten rhyolite.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

OOC FAQ:

No, you don't need to have RPed killing the critter whose trophy you bring...though it would probably lead to special rewards.

Yes, sapient kills are acceptable. But really anything works, from a Leviathan tooth to a bag of Pelko bugs.

Yes, Force-attuned/Force-sensitive/Sithspawn kills will probably get you the most bang for your uck.

No, your character doesn't need to be Force-sensitive. But it won't work for droids or Force-dead Yuuzhan Vong.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

It had been many years since Maliphant had last visited the Veloks. It only made sense he bring money, food - supplies to keep the frozen tundra well comforted. It was the least he owed them for much of the help Velok had given him.​

​

While robots and shipping union members worked on supplying the planets various villages, Maliphant himself moved to find Velok. Seeing the stall, seeing what he was up to - he smiled and decided to involve himself.​

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Lowering his insulated hood, he greeted the Velok.​

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"Long time no see, Broken tusk. The winter treating you well?", he asked.​

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"I brought something."​

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Reaching out his hand, the artifact would appear. In his hand the carved skull of Darth Mythos - still radiating the power of its Sith Lord owner. He rested it on the table with a small click of bone on stone then took a seat.​

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Velok Brokentusk​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Ahhh, Darth Empyrean — what have we here."

Maliphant and Velok's grandfather, the retired Sith scholar Velok the Younger, had been thick as thieves at various points and throughout various eras. Brokentusk knew the pale man too, but not as a peer.

He picked up Mythos' skull with interest, cradling it in his ginormous palm. Sensing echoes wasn't among his primary talents, but this thing had a Scent. Faint visions swirled around the edges of his mind.

"At least the desert is cold at night," he said absently. He ladled green brew into the upended skull through the foramen magnum. It bubbled in a corrosive kind of way. The skull deformed somewhat.

Should Maliphant drink from the skull or a waiting cup, the trophy would catalyze the brew just long enough to sink its blessing or curse into the Sith Lord's bones.

Among Mythos' most profound legacies was the Battle of Atrisia, which had seen many Sith Lords unite in a Force Storm that cost some their lives and ravaged entire fleets.

This drink would give Maliphant a painfully clear sense of any time a Force Storm — the hyperspace-ripping kind — was used, anywhere in the galaxy. He might get a feel for where it happened and even who conjured it.

Surreptitiously, Velok scratched out '100 UNDERWORLD CREDITS' and wrote 'PAY WHAT YOU CAN' beside it. Most of Tash-Taral had no ucks, and Maliphant could probably buy the planet with his pocket change.

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

Arcturus had a few weird beasties under his belt, but most of the trophies had long since been lost. Or they weren't tangible in the first place, such as the denizens of the Nether he'd torn through alongside Seydon of Arda when fleeing the Dreaming Dark. Just wisps which folded into something new, fueling the unending army of that place.​

​

What he did have, however, pertained to the terentatek he'd killed back on Korriban, prior to the Eternal's fall. He'd taken as much from that beast upon its demise as he could. Some of it had already been reformed into something new. Acid from its stomach used to burn a hole in Starlin Rand 's mother's apartment, for one. Pieces of bone and horn in artifice tinkerings. Blades and handles. Leather to form pouches within which he held sand imbued with a multitude of effects, or books with which to note his progress.​

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Yes, he'd made use of it. But there were pieces here and there still remaining. He didn't carry much of it these days, didn't carry much of anything at all. But a tooth... A tooth was easy to carry. He'd half forgotten he even had it on his person.​

​

Tash-Taral wasn't somewhere he was unfamiliar with. He'd been here before, traversed the windswept deserts in search of secrets hidden beneath the surface. Found someone buried in the sand too... An interesting venture to be sure. Now he was back.​

​

He'd visited with the Veloks once before, and learned alongside one in the Eternal's classrooms. The last hunt had been alongside Grundark and Noelle Varanin yet the beast he brought forth was one acquired with Melydia Gold ... somewhat. He'd been a little deceptive about it in truth, she wasn't one who enjoyed harming would be friends after all. He'd sent her away so she didn't have to see it.​

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A tooth. That's what he stepped up to the stall with. 100 UCks? Though the lad had barely anything to his name he pulled out the previously listed amount all the same. He wasn't one to underpay a man for his craft, after all.​

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"I never got to partake last time," he began, as he approached the stand, recalling how their hunt had failed to reach completion in time to return to that bubbling cauldron filled with strange concoction. He dipped his head into a respectful bow, fully expecting the Whiphid not to know who he even was. Just another face among so many who had passed through the Academy, and a face that looked far more gaunt and weathered than it had back then.​

​

He offered out the terentatek tooth, and though smaller than any other part he'd rend from its corpse its size was still substantial. Truth be told he wasn't all that sure what this would consist of.​

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Velok Brokentusk ​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Arcturus Dinn

Velok perked up as he accepted the claw. "Terentatek! Lovely. You were at the Valrar hunt, weren't you? Betelgeuse Thresher, right?"

He ladled brew into a glass mug and added the claw. The tough, poisoned keratin dissolved at once. The mixture congealed into a tough, juicy blob.

"Now this is interesting..."

Should Arcturus eat the terentatek gummie, he would find himself immune to Sithspawn poison and venom. Conversely, however, he would find himself hungry for the flesh and blood of Force-sensitive creatures or beings. Terentateks had that appetite.

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

Arcturus smiled, unable to chuckle some at the misstated name. He nodded too.​

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"Present, aye, though our hunting party failed to return to your cauldron on time. Cragmoloid's aren't known for their haste, after all. Still, an interesting enough time."​

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Truth be told he'd enjoyed the experience for what it was, returning to the Whiphid to get something out of it would only ever have been the icing on top of an already decadent cake. ​

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He glanced into the mug, and the concoction held within. Watched as it congealed into something else. Interesting indeed.​

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What now. Did he.. eat it? It didn't look all that appetizing. But what had he been expecting? It was made up of Force knew what, with added terentatek keratin. He fished it out of the mug, squished it between his fingers. Then popped it into his mouth, without any real hesitation.​

​

Vile. Absolutely disgusting... He handed the Whiphid all the UCks he had on his person despite this.​

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Velok Brokentusk ​

 

[Avalore]

Avalore limped past the stall, the headless form of a decomposing humanoid dragging behind her. She nearly passed without incident, but a tug in her senses made her turn her head right.

And the bloody acolyte could only blink in disbelief.

"You again?" Her expression crinkled in distaste. She had paid him for a fortune and took half of that fare back when another person infringed. She had written him off as no more than crook, but instead of laughing him off and walking away as one rational person might do, she lingered and read his sign.

She raised a brow and look back at him, a spiteful gleam tainting her usually disinterested gaze. She considered for only a moment before sloping a knap sack onto his table. Inside would be the head to the body she dragged by the ankle behind her.

"Well let's go then," she taunted. "Lets see your alchemy."

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Bernard of Arca]

Ten days of uninterruptedly hunting a survivor of the Sith Empire across the stars running on barely anything other than the Force and meditation had brought Bernard to the world of Tash-Taral. The survivor had to be close. All evidence pointed to this system. Ten days of the chase, hot on the trail of one of the galaxy's most wanted Sith, and Bernard had finally managed to track that monster to his latest hideout.

He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the certainty that his mark would be found somewhere in the dunes of this Sith forsaken rock. All that time, all those sleepless hours of constant pursuit. It would all be worth it once he crested those hills. Once he...

Bernard stumbled. Something was wrong. The world had started spinning. Details became hazy and blurred. His head felt like a gundark had stepped on it, and he found it increasingly impossible to keep his eyelids from falling.

Over that hill, just inside those ruins, that's where the target would be. Just a few steps more, his body couldn't give out now. He was so close. The Force could sustain him a while longer!

He just needed to—

Bernard went limp, falling face-first into the sand. The sound of snoring started to carry over the desert moments later.

But in his dreams, he began to see visions of tusks, well-combed fur, and face paint. The unmistakable touch of the dark side lingered all around him in that immaterial realm. Moments from his past bubbled up like boiling tar, glimpses of failures, moments of weakness, and defeats. But among them, one memory stood out more clearly than the rest, perhaps influenced by a peculiar crystal on his person, left behind as the only worldly remains of a Jedi whose blood was on Bernard's hands.

That memory was of the day he'd killed Lanik Dawnstar. When he'd cut short the life of one of the most revered Jedi of recent generations. Blinded by emotion, he'd struck down the shining star of the Order in anger, inadvertently protecting the life of a Sith Lord in the process. It marked the darkest day of Bernard's young life and one that would haunt him forever.



Conveniently, the wind also had a particularly strong breeze that nudged him onto the downward slope of the hill, which he rolled down until he unceremoniously thunked against the stall, dislodging a thousand credits and the Dawnstar Crystal from a poorly secured pocket so some form of interaction could take place.

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Avalore

"Me again, cheap little child."

Velok wrinkled his nose and prodded the knapsack open with the large knife. The scent of the undead assailed him. He looked back and forth between Avalore and the thankfully-inert zombie head.

Behind the stall, he rummaged in his own bags and produced a flimsy plastic solo cup. Like feth was he going to do this with his own nice stone mugs. He slopped green glop in the cup and garnished it with a delicate sliver of undead scalp, which dissolved immediately. The cup was looking a little soft too. He nudged it toward Avalore with the flat of his knife. "Bottoms up."

If she drank the frankly foul concoction, she'd find herself sensitive to the presence of Murakami orchids and Blackwing variants aplenty. A handy instinct when you spent your time around Sith alchemists and scholars and ruins and labs and samples and ruins and...

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

" Bernard of Arca . I haven't seen you since I marooned you in the Temorzhai Mountains."

The unconscious Jedi was not forthcoming with a reply. Velok crouched, flinched at contact with the crystal, and picked it up with tongs. The coins disappeared. Velok dipped the crystal in a mug of potion, which promptly burst into greenish flames. Eventually the cup held only the undamaged crystal and a pale, smoky fluid that bore no resemblance to the original potion.

With a shrug, Velok attempted to slosh the liquid over Bernard. Should it do its job, the effect might be something along the lines of the power to awaken guilt in a great burst of moral nonsense.

As if Jedi had ever needed help making people feel guilty.

 

[Avalore]

Poisons were the rare thing Avalore felt competent in. She sniffed over the cup, the contents threatening to sloosh out as the plastic bent and warped. To her surprise she did detect a bit of alchemy, but she wrote it off as nothing more than remnants of the undead he had used to make it.

The absence of anything deadly was enough for her. She placed down the money and tossed it back, holding his gaze as she waited for something to come over her.

Besides the need to vomit, nothing did.

She scoffed and crinkled the rubberized cup, falsely believing that her theory was confirmed. "I knew it, you aren't anything. There's no quick fixes, power can't just be drank." The coins went flying off the tabled, tethered by the force to smack him square in the forehead.

"Keep it. Only one of us is the liar here, and its not me." She turned on her heel, composed of spite and self-righteousness as she dragged the rest of her findings away.

She was sure she'd never believe in something so childish again.

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Tash-Taral has quietly attracted the attention of the Lady of Secrets and her followers. Not for the baubles that one might find in the ruins and tombs of the world, but for the guardians and creatures on world. With Korriban and the Sith worlds currently under occupation from the most zealot brand of Jedi in the galaxy at the moment, Tash-Taral was a perfect world to collect specimens from without even having to evade blockading patrols.

It was a small outpost for now, concealed in a tomb the Order of Arcane Syn had cleared out, but it was not why the Lady herself quietly made her way through the tiny spaceport, garbed in simple traveling robes with the hood up. She had come to see the exile Velok Brokentusk . In the sparsely populated spaceport, finding the stall was no challenge. Hooded, her features mostly concealed and her presence muted just enough to not attract undo attention, she approached the Whiphid silently. A satchel appeared from within her robes.

"For yourself or another that might come," she murmured, placing the satchel on his stall. The satchel would contain the preserved heart of a Terentasaur... and a small pouch of 500 Underworld credits would join it. "I seek knowledge of that." And she would point at the bubbling alchemical brew. "A vial or flask will do."

 

[The Human]

The Human did not look so well. Pressing forth from where he stood, he had just gotten off a shuttle with his clothing tattered and the armor on his back seeminly looking part-way destroyed. His Armour and Mask were in tatters and his body looked as if he been cut several times with either a knife or some form of molecular blade. Staggering a few times, he focused on the Force as slowly, the pain would start to subside and started to walk much more straight. Leaving a group was always a challenge, then again, he did not expect his life to take a turn that quickly though it was time for him to start losing things, to vanish from view.

Dalos would then see a stall come into view, very slowly he started to read the front of it as some passed him by. Bring you Kills, Get your Strength? It must be some kind of joke, possibly some tribal rituals they did. However, in the back of his mind, he felt that whisper in the Force to trust what it wanted. To move forward...besides, it is time for himself to erase his identity for a while.

Walking towards the stall, his feet made good contact with the ground for now and carefully, he grabbed a nearby chair from another table and scooted it in front of the stall. Sitting down in front of it, he groaned a bit in pain and looked across at the strange creature before him, a Whiphid perhaps? Reading the sign again, he slowly took off the mask that covered his face, letting it fall onto the counter with a loud clank to breath a bit easier. Then, he pushed it forward with himself giving a small nod, offering it to him while slowly, lifting up two lightsabers in both hands.

The first lightsaber was made of a darkened Sarrassion Iron, a weapon he had gained from Exgol during his awakening into the life he had just been "Born" into, along with it on the first day, killing the Overseer of the Brotherhood of the Maws Academy. The second lightsaber was made of a lighter Sarrassion Iron, a weapon he had obtained from killing his first Jedi on Epoch during the uprising, a Knight at that with the bare skin of his teeth with trickery and tactics. Laying them side by side to each other on a piece of cloth nearby, he also pushed them forward and leaned back into his chair, catching his breath and blinking a few times.

"It says to bring my kills...here they are. A Sith Overseer by the name of Kathon, slayed by me on my first day of memory, in front of the students of the Academy on Exgol on your left. On the right, a Jedi Knight by the name of Pokjns, hunting down dissentients during the Epoch Uprising and killed by outthinking him. I have killed both a member of the Light and the member of the Dark. I have no home, I have no memory and those I was with, now want me dead. I offer my Mask and my stash of Underworld Credits for what you can offer me in return. Even if it is just a cup of poison, to let my mind finally go free."
Velok Brokentusk

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Velok Brokentusk

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The sand swept wind beat against his tattered cloak, he could feel the cold night air of the unforgiving desert. It had been too long since he'd last come here, not since the Warlords rallied behind his banner. Not since the end of the Schism and the rise of his New Sith Order.

The Dark Side of the Force was strong here, untainted. Pure. A fitting place to best the elements and delve deep into his meditations, it was only by coincidence that he would stumble upon the creature known as Velok after several days and several nights locked away in the valley's depths, alone. His arrival to the spaceport was merely chance, yet even he was drawn to empyrean call of this wretched creature.

With stained eyes fueled by sulfuric hate, the Dark Lord gazed upon the fortune teller's stand with dark grimace as he approached slow and steady. The Elder stared upon the lettering with curious eyes as he studied it and turned to the one known as Brokentusk. Silent as the grave, he reached into his dark robes letting fall five hundred underworld credits from his hand as it emerged. His head tilted and nearly at once his offhand removed two lightsabers belonging to the slain Grandmaster Kiara Ayres and Jedi Master @Morteg.

"Go on."

 

[Mercy]

Velok Brokentusk

She hated this world.

The glaring sun and the sand getting into her boots every step she took. She wore her shades and then had to replace them with special goggles to keep it out of her eyes. Otherwise she would have walked into a stone pillar or tripped over a dune. Okay, so maybe that had happened once or twice, before salvaging pride won over stubbornness.

Mercy was here on a job. One of the local villages were apparently exporting some sort of psycho-active drug, which one of her many contacts wanted to take a look at. While she waited for her appointment she overheard rumors of a creature that offered boons in exchange for kills.

Well.

It had been an easy decision to take the track towards Brokentusk's stall in the spaceport.

"I hear ya the..." Mercy had to look up to catch Velok's gaze and that was something special. "-sentient to see for gifts in exchange for... this."

Out of a bag she managed to haul the severed limb of a Drengir. It was still twitching every so slightly. "Dunno if you can do anything with it. Was a pain in the fethin' arse to get though, so I am hopeful." The large woman dropped the limb on Velok's stall, where it promptly tried to crawl off to freedom.

meatmeatmeatmeatmeat

"Stop that. You are not going anywhere."

A flick of her hand to stop it in its tracks.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Hooded, her features mostly concealed and her presence muted just enough to not attract undo attention, she approached the Whiphid silently. A satchel appeared from within her robes.

"For yourself or another that might come," she murmured, placing the satchel on his stall. The satchel would contain the preserved heart of a Terentasaur... and a small pouch of 500 Underworld credits would join it. "I seek knowledge of that." And she would point at the bubbling alchemical brew. "A vial or flask will do."

"By all means," said Velok, taking a tentative whiff of the contents of the satchel. "Ahh. Yes, I can certainly provide what you seek. I stole this formulation from a man who has caused me pain and heartache; I feel no possessive proprietary personal profundity toward it."

He ladled the bubbling green slop into a simple traveler's canteen, an alusteel flask that grew warm to the touch. He handed it over to the hooded figure. "With my compliments, milady. And should you feel particularly generous..." He rummaged in his bags and produced a handwritten recipe. "The original. I know this concoction by heart; it's yours for an additional..."

He tapped the 'PAY WHAT YOU CAN' line on the sign. She was, after all, wearing a real nice cloak tonight.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"It says to bring my kills...here they are. A Sith Overseer by the name of Kathon, slayed by me on my first day of memory, in front of the students of the Academy on Exgol on your left. On the right, a Jedi Knight by the name of Pokjns, hunting down dissentients during the Epoch Uprising and killed by outthinking him. I have killed both a member of the Light and the member of the Dark. I have no home, I have no memory and those I was with, now want me dead. I offer my Mask and my stash of Underworld Credits for what you can offer me in return. Even if it is just a cup of poison, to let my mind finally go free."
Velok Brokentusk

"Rest, friend. Rest. Let's see..." He poured a steaming mug and pushed it toward his injured visitor. "It's tea, not potion — I picked it up from a teamaster named Tiland Kortun . Should help you relax and heal while I take a look at what we have here."

Both lightsabers carried a tasty, zesty air of spiteful anger that cheered Velok immensely. He picked them up and closed his eyes.

"I'm an exile too, you know. For my sins, and sins they are, but an exile nonetheless. So you have my sympathies. These are good and worthy trophies. A moment...and I can certainly do better than a cup of poison."

He used a ladle to fill a bowl with green sludge from the cauldron, then used the two lightsabers to stir the bowl. The colour shifted radically, from green to a glossy, vomitous green/gold, as the alchemical brew got a taste of the weapons' uniqueness. He couldn't resist an eager glance at that scarred-up mask, too.

In short order he offered the bowl for drinking. Should Dalos imbibe, he would find a potent, double-edged, eidetic relationship with memory. It wouldn't restore his lost memories, but it would certainly help him create new ones that he'd never forget.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Silent as the grave, he reached into his dark robes letting fall five hundred underworld credits from his hand as it emerged. His head tilted and nearly at once his offhand removed two lightsabers belonging to the slain Grandmaster [IMG alt="Kiara Ayres"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/24/24027.jpg?1631294020[/IMG] Kiara Ayres and Jedi Master @Morteg.

Who the feth this alchemically-deformed raggedy-cloaked power-dripping Sith Lord might be was an open question. But since he blended right in on Tash-Taral, it wasn't a particularly interesting question. Raggedy-cloaked Sith Lords were an uck a dozen around here. The lightsabers, however...as soon as Velok touched them, he sat up a little straighter and looked at his visitor in a brand new light.

A bowl of potion shifted from green toward a pukey brown as he used the lightsabers as stirring implements.

"For once I understand the blessing at hand before I give it," he said. He shook potion from Kiara Ayres' lightsaber and placed it on the stall's counter. "She was a skilled linguist." Morteg's saber joined it. "He transformed himself culturally, an alien who invested heavily in Corellian ways. These two Jedi were masters of walking among others on others' terms, cultural chameleons if you will."

He offered Solipsis the bowl.

"If you drink you will find languages unlock themselves to you more readily. You will know, as Revan and Sadow and Kun are said to have known, how to instill a language in another being — or many beings. How to make yourself understood. It is a rare Sith skill, even a lost one."

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"I hear ya the..." Mercy had to look up to catch Velok's gaze and that was something special. "-sentient to see for gifts in exchange for... this."

Out of a bag she managed to haul the severed limb of a Drengir. It was still twitching every so slightly. "Dunno if you can do anything with it. Was a pain in the fethin' arse to get though, so I am hopeful." The large woman dropped the limb on Velok's stall, where it promptly tried to crawl off to freedom.

meatmeatmeatmeatmeat

"Stop that. You are not going anywhere."

A flick of her hand to stop it in its tracks.

Velok refused to touch the severed Drengir root-limb. He gripped it with a massive pair of steel tongs and dipped it in a huge bowl of alchemical brew. When a proper sizzle ensued, he kept shoving the Drengir chunk into the potion until it had all dissolved. The resulting sludge—

No, not sludge. Soup.

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"Have some chowder, friend. It's a cold desert night, and a bowl of hot soup should satisfy. I cannot promise it won't increase your appetite tenfold, but it should also give you an ineffable sense of the presence of Drengir, even a little eavesdropping into the hidden whispers of their hive mind. Just, ah, be sure to eat plenty of meat or your body will start to consume itself. Enjoy."