Byssantium (Ignis)

[Aeneis Valdemar]

Equipment: Respechel Armor, Curved Hilt Lightsaber, Scattergun (empty) , Enforcer pistol (empty)

They say that when attacks your home that you are supposed to only utilize a necessary amount of force to repel the assailant. But what the Eclipse Cult had done to Aeneis’ home could not be forgiven! What could one even consider necessary force against a group of darksiders that had raided their world and massacred hundreds? How could Aeneis call himself a soldier when he hadn’t been there to defend his world, unable to reach them in time? How was he to be the savior of the sentients of the Confederation if he couldn’t stand up and avenge those that had been lost? The answer to two of the questions was simple in the Arkanian’s mind. He couldn’t call himself a soldier, he couldn’t call himself a savior. At least not till he did what needed to be done. The more complicated question was what could be considered necessary force for such an endeavor?

The weight of the galaxy was upon Aeneis’ shoulders, the weight of the sentients lost, and he would soon shed it, and pay it back in blood. On the ex-soldiers belt behind his back was clipped a lightsaber, a curved hilt one. The obsidian color of the hilt blending in with colors of his orange and black armor. There were no grenades, not for this mission as the cultists were known to hold force users among their ranks. Which meant they could simply activate the grenades that Aeneis brought in. Instead the Corellian brought a scattergun, and an enforcer pistol. Simple weapons, sheerly mechanical and lacking the more electrical and technological of more modern weapons.

Looking out the viewport and down to the temple that sat before him Aeneis scanned it over. There were no signs of life outside the temple. From the information he’d managed to pry from the CNI spooks the report stated that a small enclave of the group had retreated to Byss and had been using the temple as a base of operations. A heavy sigh escaped the Arkanian’s mouth and with that he donned the helmet. No longer was he Aeneis, he was now Revento. He was the one who would avenge the Corellians.

The shuttle connected to a slave system continued to fly towards the temple, and shot over it at high speed. Though from it fell an object that blended into the darkness of the night. That object being Aeneis, who dived through the air. Closer and closer the roof of the temple came the longer Aeneis fell. In the air he spun, his feet now facing the building. With a thought the repulsors fired slowing the Arkanian’s fall.

Feet slamming into the roof of the temple the shock of force was absorbed through the armor, and immediately released blowing a hole through the roof. Dust, and chunks of stone fell free flooding the hall, clouding the sight of those within. With the debris was Aeneis, his silhouette the only thing visible, not even his presence in the force able to be sensed. The first few cultists unlucky enough to meet Aeneis met fates worse than death, their screams filling the halls.

Minutes passed, many of the cultists enjoying what had once been a peaceful slumber before the Corellian’s arrival. Those beings left on cots that were now bloodstained, holes peppering their bodies and bedrolls. The final chamber Aeneis kicked open a single individual at its center. The offshoot’s armor by the time he entered the chamber was painted with a thick crimson ichor, and sickening viscera. The helmet emotionless as the spent scattergun hung in his left arm. Right raising to the final individual, enforcer in hand the man pulled the pistol. Each bark of the pistol echoed off the interior of the chamber, the recoil of it traveling up Aeneis’ arm, absorbed into the armor. From it four rounds escaped the barrel piecing the air meant to end the true culprit’s life.

​

Blame [member="Atlas Kane"] for the title​

 

[Ignatius]

EQUIPMENT: Sword, Lightsaber, Armor/Skin, Belts, Left Gauntlet,

There comes a time to fight, and there comes a time to retreat. With the recent failures on Corellia, and the Eclipse failing to secure the sacrifices needed, I had left the planet. Leaving behind those who had failed me. While I am sure many had perished, some may have been captured. Coming to Byss was not for a friendly visit. It was where I could gather those who continued in our faith, and leave. As I entered the main hall of the final chamber, The guards had since left me. However, one stayed. A simple woman in a white cloak. Her faith in me was astounding. One I valued highly. While my sister tended to think downward upon those who followed us, I did just the opposite.

After my Sister has risen from her status as a Priest to become one of the two leaders of this cult of the Eclipse. Another had to be anointed. Such as was this lady. Never speaking her name, but accepted every word I spoke. Walking to the end of the room, I walked to the throne. Kneeling at it, and gently reaching forward. Pulling out a box from underneath it. Opening it, I saw the shard of a relic from long past. Having been holding onto it for some time, It was likely the most important item I needed at the moment. Standing up, I turned to the woman I closed the box and then locked it. Passing it off to the lady, she accepted it with a deep head bow.

"Where shall you request of this to be put?"
"Take it to the Rising Sun. Board the ship and await for me. I will need a moment."
"As you wish."

Without another word, she walked out. The door closing heavily as I stood in front of this throne. Closing my eyes, I began to feel a rage in me. My sister... had left. She fled during the plight that was Corellia. It angered me greatly. My right blackened hand closed into a fist tightly. A rage I had not felt since... since... she....

I lost my control. Without even moving, the throne burst into a wave of flames and heat. An anger, a rage, an unbridled, seething insanity came over me. However, I slowly began to regain my composure. Standing straight, I began to head out of the room. However, I stopped. A wave of the force came over me. Something was off. As if on cue, I could hear weapons fire and fighting. Screams of terror as someone was slaughtering those outside. My hands were almost upon the door. Wrong place. My left hand reaching for the scabbard at my side, and the right slowly taking a grip of the hilt of my sword.

Steps were taken back as I could not feel a presence within the force, but what I could feel, was an anger much like my own. One that drew ever closer. One that I knew was headed for me. Smiling deeply underneath the mask, I knew exactly who I would be enacting my ferocity upon. I closed my eyes. Waiting. Centering myself as the gunfire came even closer. Preparing myself for a fight of my life. Bursting forth from the doors, Mm red eyes snapped open. A man adorned in armor that covered in the crimson life I had taken. Weapon brought up, and fired upon me.

In silence, compared to the hungry barks of the pistol, I drew my blade. Hissing as the sheath protested in the sudden draw, with the blade being brought forth and cleaved through the air. Slamming home into the projectiles sent my way. Sending them to be redirected to the side. However, the last one? The last shot fired was sliced clean through to barely scratch the skin around my shoulders. The blackened skin rough with newly found red marks of blood. However, began to slowly heal even as I righted myself to this unknown face.

"How bold of you assassin. Come for revenge, or to get your rocks off?"

[member="Aeneis Valdemar"],

 

[Aeneis Valdemar]

Those three shots had been the last of Aeneis' ammunition he'd brought on the mission. The Corellian had never thought he'd run through it all so quickly, but one can never imagine what they'll do in the name of vengeance. Standing across the room was the one Aeneis wanted, if he'd had died from the shots that would've left that Arkanian unsatisfied. Where would the pleasure be in giving the man an easy death? A peacful one, one where he wouldn't know the pain and suffering he'd caused others? There wouldn't be any.

Despite his hatred of the one before him Aeneis had to admit the feat of deflecting two of the enforcer rounds and cutting through the third was highly impressive. Not many people could perfect such a technique, Aeneis had never met any that had been using Lightsabers. All of it done in a few smooth movements. Behind the helmet in the safety of his armor Aeneis smirked. Within the confines of the armor his mind would be safe due to the use of the bluestone incorporated all throughout it. Nothing would get in or out, thankfully protecting the man from any mind tricks or illusions. That was also how Aeneis knew he was dealing with the real thing.

Much like how his presence was hidden by a talisman Aeneis couldn't sense the presence of the one he fought. From appearances however it was the one who'd ransacked Corellia. "Let's say its a bit of both." Looking past Ignis and to the flaming throne that sat behind him Aeneis scoffed.

"All that matters is Corellia remembers. I've been paid a hefty sum to take you in." One of the statements was a lie and Aeneis knew it, but that didn't mean his foe would. For all Ignis knew Aeneis was truly what he proclaimed, an assassin or bounty hunter. While too proud to stoop to the levels of working such a profession under his true name, for now the guise would work.

"What I need to know is why? Why Corellia? Out of all the other worlds in the galaxy why a people that have suffered? That once lost their planet. What reason do you have to take even more from them?"

All the while he asked the questions Aeneis' left foot came forward, slightly angled towards Ignis. His right pulled back and pointed to the side slightly raised. Both of his feet resting on the balls of them. With that Aeneis acted focusing on the throne, from its perch the flaming pedestal was lifted free and flung at Ignis' back.

[member="Ignis Imura"]

 

[Ignatius]

The orange and black armor smeared with crimson life spoke. The dulled tone from a lack of voice changers, or modulators. Relying upon only his visage to be hidden from me. I could understand why. Coming here, alone, armed to the teeth with a shotgun and a sidearm, only inferred upon me he would likely be carrying more. To be able to go through members of my congregation with what seemed to be little to no effort, had me with doubts of his prowess. Force user? Maybe. I would have to find out fast before he pulled a trick on me.

Which seemed to be happening the moment he continued to speak. Asking me a question. I smiled ever so little under my facemask. Like I had not done the same? As though I had not once been an assassin, or wished to gain an edge over my enemy? No. He was preparing something. However, what tipped me off most was his stance. Preparing for a fight. Preparing now instead of standing easily. There was quite a distance from me to him. He had the ranged weapons, and I knew not how much ammo he carried. I had only melee weapons. So why was he on the balls of his feet as though he were to draw a sword or a knife?

That's when it hit me. He was going to rush forward. He was going to close the distance. How else could he without some form of distraction. My eyes widened at the realization. I ignored his question completely. Not speaking, nor hinting as to why I chose the actions I had. The largest, easiest thing to hit me with, was not in front of me, but behind me. The throne.

Just to prove a point, that I was not going to move when he wanted me too, I shook my head. Softly a faint outline of the force enveloped me in a yellow glow. Acting upon myself with a power that had been taught to me by Nickolas's once ally, The throne slammed hard into me. The impact was quite powerful. Considering it was a throne and not meant to be lifted from the ground, even with the force, it only gave me all the information I needed.

The man was surrounded in the force himself, and was purely intent of coming here, alone, for revenge, and to make sure that I was killed. Instead of having a small army, instead of having a group of soldiers behind him, he came on his own. Revenge, and personal reasons. The conviction in his voice of such endeavors about my plight upon the Corellians was justification for him. Even as the throne that my sister had once sat upon slammed into my back, The force protected me, and rooted me to where I stood. Smashing and splintering into pieces. The largest of the pieces was off to my left between the two of us.

"Hmmm Such wroth from a man needing justification to kill me. Interesting."

Bringing my blade up to be aimed at him, Feet just barely past shoulder-width distance from each other, and my right foot a hair forward than the other, my hands gripped the sword. Glowing within the chambers. A soft grip to prepare for defense or a strike, but not tight enough to make my knuckles whiten in anger. Unlike the man as he had gripped his pistol. My head tilted to pop a couple times in either direction. The impact from the throne still hurt. Even if I had stood strong and it nearly shattered into a billion pieces against my back, it hurt like hell. However, not unlike to what I have felt before.

"Come on then liquidator. Show me what the best Corellia has to offer. Then I will answer you."

Holding the sword aloft, I made my way forward. Simply taking one step in front of the other at a sauntered pace.

[member="Aeneis Valdemar"],

 

[Aeneis Valdemar]

The crash of the throne across the cyborgs back was a symphony to Aeneis, the only thing the performance was missing? The sound of shattering bones, pained screams, and blood. None of those three things were given as the shards of wood continued on to the floor, from them bits of smoke rising as some pieces still burned. Faint embers rose into the air between Aeneis and Ignis and began to rise to the ceiling before dispersing further across the chamber.

Of course, the fight wouldn't come to a conclusion from such a simple attack. Especially not for one who'd faced the Jedi during his attack. This man was a cut above the rest, he wasn't some Sith acolyte seeking to test Aeneis. He wasn't a pirate Gen'dai that had underestimated his foe. No this was someone who knew what it meant to fight. That is what would make the fight all the more fun. On his arm, Aeneis could feel the Mark of Adron beginning to itch, the sensations of darkness creeping up from the symbol as it fed the man's negative emotions.

The cyborg wanted the best of Corellia, and while Aeneis may not have been that he'd certainly try on this day. Why speak when the words would be wasted on the target? Aeneis wasn't his master, he saw no meaning behind monologues during a fight. They were simply there to boost one's ego. As a soldier one learned to save the talk till the mission was over. Dashing forward Aeneis moved to attack, in his right hand the pistol shifted, the barrel no longer facing outwards. Instead, it was the butt of the pistol, with the handle pointing out to the right. On approach, Aeneis brought the handle of the pistol down as a hook to the back of Ignis' sword pulling it off and further to the right away from him.

His left arm raised the scattergun in hand for the Sith's face. Aeneis knew he had no ammunition left in the gun, his foe however didn't and that's what the man was counting on. The gun being a simple feint to force the cyborg into a retreat or to panic. While he may not have flinched to the throne perhaps the thought of catching a facefull of slugs would motivate him. One key part of combat one learned as a soldier was to test another’s resolve. Even if he didn't Aeneis' left foot came around in a sweep to Ignis' right ankle to take it from beneath him and throw the Sith to the ground.

[member="Ignis Imura"]

 

[Ignatius]

He was quite in a hurry. The man wanted dearly to end my life. That much was clear. While I merely walked, he rushed forward to close the distance, Even turning his gun around. Empty. Otherwise he would have shot at me again. He used the weapon as a tool of distraction, and so I would allow it. While the sword was sent over to the side, I kept the movement going. His attempts to keep the blade away from him, would allow a swift transition of the hilt to be inward facing to us. As the shotgun came up directed right into my face, the butt of the grip slammed into the side of the weapon. The attempt was to not only force his own weapons out from between us, but also allowed the blade of my brightly shining edge to slide betwixt us.

I could feel his rage. I could taste it, and it was oh so delirious. He wanted this, he yearned for this. So dearly did he wanted to bring revenge, and pain to me. Even if his attempts were in poor taste.

What I did not expect, was for the kick at my legs. He was all about distractions, and trying to get me to loose my footing. First the throne to try and move me, now the rifle to my face, and even trying to pull the weapon from my hands. He wanted to dominate the fight. He wanted to prove something. It seems that he doesn't understand much though. Using his emotions to power himself in the wrong way. He wouldn't get far with an attitude like that. While his kick did jar me, and did provide some pain, it wasn't enough to push me off of my feet. Body made literally of armor and metal, I likely weighed more than him, secondly, with having to shove multiple weapons in my face, and contorting his frame to move into a better formation to kick my feet from under me, it was an attempt.

Futile, but an attempt. The force that I had been holding upon myself, the dull yellow Force Weapon i had created upon myself helped with this. I had not removed it from myself. I channeled enough energy into it to keep it alive. However, with him now this close, I felt it was time to give him some results. Explosive results. There was no need for any extra time to "charge" it up as the energy was already being harnessed. It was only converted into a different power as the yellow tinge brightened for a moment just before exploding outwards in all directions in a wave of the force.

"Come now. That's not how you use your anger. Harness it instead."

I smiled gleefully as I channeled my own hatred. This man dared to enter my abode, threaten my life, kill my subjects, and the recent plights performed by my sister still on my mind gave me enough energy to close the distance with speed. An upward cut from my left to right. Aimed to cleave not into the man, but through him. A form of Iado, drawing your blade from the side, for a lightning fast strike.

[member="Aeneis Valdemar"],