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[Xzeench]

Oh Cathay...

The World of Angels, of light. Of freedom and peace. Has it been so long? The great jewel of the Unknown Regions, a planet of learning, and technology. Sacred, in its excellence and might. Throneworld of the Catharian Hegemony. No longer. It had been almost millennia since the disappearance of the Hegemon's Civilization. Gone to the wind, forgotten forever. We pray to our ancestors, that we carry the torch that had defended our way of life for so long. We pray, not for our own safety. But for your return as well, the Disappeared. We miss you dearly, even as our young turn to old, and our forests stretch across the horizon. May we carry your blessing, from now, until the end of days.

"Gloria, in excelsis terra"

​

Aravae lay sitting in the front-most pew directly adjacent to the Cleric, who had just begun Morning Mass. Typically, these prayers were routine. Praying for the return of the lost. Those who vanished a hundred years ago, and those who vanish to this day. The world of Cathay was plagued with these vanishings. Entire villages, castles, and even livestock, simply vanish off the face of Cathay with no prior warning. Typically, these prayers didn't resonate with the young Dame. As she hadn't bore witness first hand to these disappearances, though stories told by her direct superior, Dame Aremyah. Aravae's teacher and closest consort. She had spoken about Aravae's parents once, or perhaps twice in recent memory and had spoken of whispers that their entire fiefdom was there one night, and vanished the next morning. It was... somewhat troubling to Aravae to have heard of this. But, with the recent destruction of the Coalition of Ten-Thousand Kingdoms which had kept the peace since time immemorial. People had little time to speculate.

However, this time something clicked within Aravae's mind. She had seen something in her dreams recently. A ship from the sky, coming to give salvation to those who think their hope is lost. Maybe it were true, or yet another fake vision. It was open to speculation of course. However, her ponderings were suddenly stopped with a sudden clout about the back of the head by Aremyah. Quickly awakening the young mistress from her somewhat drunken stupor. The Winged Fool only blinked at the air briefly as she suddenly focused on the Cleric who had no bowed his head, and prepared a small silver sprinkler. Even from here, the detail and workmanship on that item far surpassed anything Aravae had in her possession. He slowly, went down the middle of the pews, sprinkling small amounts of holy water on the heads of the faithful. Which, illicited an attempt at holding back a cough-sneeze at the sudden onset of aromatic water pattering across her face. Aravae had never been overly fond of botanicals, especially of the extraordinarily strong sort. And this-- caused quite literally. A propulsion of both noise and sputum across the pews. The sheer sound, reverberating off the wall as Aravae failed to hold back the sneeze. In almost an instant, the entire Cathedrals worth of faithful gazed upon the young Dame with sheer awe. She had the gall, to disrespect the Cleric, and the Church to his face. Now, this wasn't the first time. But it would sure be the last.

In a swift movement, Aremyah, sent a backhand forward at Aravae's recovering head. Impacting with a sizable thump as she reached forward, and grabbed the young Dame by the bosum and quite literally dragged her out. Kicking and screaming toward the rear. Now, service was resuming after that sizable embarrassment for not only Aravae, but Aremyah too. Aravae, was promptly dragged forth through the pews with both she and Aremyah hiding their faces. The former with her sizable wings, and the latter with a shamed hand.

Aremyah and Aravae exited the Cathedral in unison, with the former throwing the latter on the ground in this theatrical fashion. Aravae, impacted into the marble flooring, and near bounced off from the impact. But she had little time for respite, as Aremyah promptly grabbed the Dame by the shoulders and dragged her upward. Her face, was of sheer rage and anger. But also of amusement.

"You must be, the most impolite lady in all the Kingdoms! Can't you see that you are supposed to remain silent? Even children are more quiet than you are!"

Aremyah was full of this disciplining mother bear routine. She had enough. And, well. Only illicited a mumbled apology from Aravae, drowned out by the early morning crowds.

Aremyah chose it was enough, and finally let go of Aravae's tunic. Her voice became low, and serious.

"You must learn, to make it in Society, doesn't mean to go off and do your own thing without consideration from others. Understand? Remember what I asked you to do?"

Aravae could barely meet the steel eyed gaze of her instructor and closest friend.

"I asked you, to essentially commit heresy. Because I want to help us all. We all know of this crisis, and we can't fix it on our own. Do you understand you Winged Buffoon?"

Aravae only mumbled something. Unheard. She only gazed only at the inner plaza. Through the roving bands of soothsayers, and civilians. Her eyes came to rest upon the sacred stone which sat at the center of the City. It had once been used as only a landing platform many-many years ago. By the Archeotechs who lived here long before we wrote down history. It became an object of worship, and never trodden on for fear of being branded a heretic and slain on the spot. But-- it was a place... familiar to Aravae.

She had seen it many times before. The same, black clad ceramite which made up the large rectangle. She had seen many thousands of different Sky-Ships exit from the clouds and land upon it, and others in the region. Perhaps it was that goal she had. The goal to get help.

A few weeks ago, Aravae had been beseeched by Aremyah to help her with a special project of her own design. A working Archeotech radio transponder which could call out into the stars and bring with it, salvation in the form of assistance. She had never before seen such magical technology, having only known signal fires or flags. It was a jarring revelation that not all Archeotech was destroyed during the formation of the three Empires millennia ago. It too survived. And it was nearly repaired. It required only one thing. The Blood of a Pure Catarian. Indeed, it may have been ancient biological locks that prevented its use, but it seems that it was required. The lock was easily bypassed by Aravae, who promptly offered her arm to it. Now she was of not Cathar descent or Human descent like everyone around her. But a mutant, created in a lab and designed for only a single purpose, which lay unknown forever. All they knew now, was that it was sending a signal. A signal somewhere, whose message is unknown.

Perhaps now, it would be answered. As a low rumble made itself appearant in the early morning sky.

::Tags::
Torrack Torrackstur
Drifter
Zo'i Prihm

 

[Drifter]

Xzeench

It was the blinking, green ping upon the comm that drew the attention of the hunter. A gloved finger went reaching out to press the button to activate the message. It had come from an open channel, from who knows where. A frown drew from under the full, polarized mask, contemplation etching upon a face that was hidden from view.

It took some time for the hunter and the nav-maps to try to make heads or tails from it. Finally, the origin point came from what all intents and purposes indicated nothing but black space. Yet the signal was there. Asking for assistance. A double-check of the nav comp stated that it wasn't but a few lightyears away. However, to answer, it meant more days to tack on to search for the quarry. Perhaps a higher risk of losing the trail yet again. The last clue brought the hunter to this sector, but it would take days, possibly weeks, to track it.

In another life, perhaps the hunter would have acted without hesitation. This time, it was different. Long minutes would tick by, internal arguments of the pros and cons weighing heavily. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, the hunter entered the nav points to the destination.

Just a look. Enough to give me a reason to feel as if I can leave without regretting it. There were already plenty of things to be regretful about. The end goal wasn't moving, just the timing. It was a big galaxy, but to have come this far was a small victory.

There was nothing but time anyways. It wasn't about if the hunter caught the quarry, but a when.

A flare of engines and the dark ship shot into hyperspace. Destination - some slice of space within this section of the Unknown regions.

 

[Xzeench]

The low rumbling soon revealed a large flock of about one-hundred head-sized drones. Ancient Catharian Archeotech designed to keep the biosphere, and air free of pollutants. They were once considered an every-day thing around Cathay at the time. Existing in the millions, each designed to keep the biosphere stable when the fires of industry were ignited millennia prior. Now, they were just remnants of a long lost people. An artifact of the dead. So to speak. Each of them probably had the computing power of entire modern-day star ships. It was a technological marvel, as they streaked in formation across the sky to pick up pollutants and purify the air.

Many of those who lived in the walled cities considered them a symbol of renewal, how the cycle of life on Cathay would never end. Even now, they were a rare sight. Only deployed during extreme bad weather, or excess soot being put into the air. They were magnificent to those on the ground, near magical in nature. But-- It was but a fleeting moment in a day of stresses for the citizens.

Aravae watched as a V-Formation of these drones flew across the sky, headed east to slow the spread of rolling thunderstorms in the area. Even this fleeting moment of happiness was welcomed by Aravae and Aremyah. It was a moment of knowing that there was something bigger than themselves was out there. But that moment quickly faded, as a modicum of disappointment crept into Aravae's mind. Maybe tomorrow, she thought.

However.

In system. Beyond the thoughts and feelings of the people on Cathay. A stranger stirred. His ship tearing a hole into real-space as it deposited his ship ajacent to the star. A Yellow Main-Sequence, perfect for bearing life. Oddly, the star charts for the area viewed this sector as dead space. No life or civilisation for at least a few hundred light years in either direction. But now-- this Star which shone through the icy wall of transparasteel was... unique.

Inter-system scans from the ship read out that there were five celestial bodies in system. One of which, read off as a habitable world but on detailed scans showed that it was an ecologically dead planet. Save for the swirling white stands which dotted it's surface. Even from as far as the star. The Planet had an obvious deep scar in its crust. As if it were pulled open by some force. Its ecologically dead atmosphere, gave remnants of planets like Nathema. It did infact, have ancient signs of previous habitation. Being, ruined cities and destroyed fleets in orbit. Scuttled by the looks of it.

The more notable celestial body. Was that of a massive dilapidated battle-station in orbit around a Earth-Like Planet located in the Goldilocks zone at a near perfect location. On approach, it had massive remnants of ancient shipyards. Some still stuffed to the brim with half-finished star-frigates and Dreadnoughts. Weirdly, a automated message began playing in the ship's bridge. A voice of a mere man was heard from it in a odd language that didn't exist in translators. It quickly ended, as the ship hurtled past the ruins of the battlestation. The sight, that was seen after. Would likely bring a tear to an eye.

The sight, was breathtaking. It was a nearly perfect planet. Vast oceans on either side, and large continents of greenery and not a speck of deserts. Signs of habitation were also visible. Such as massive walled cities dotted about its surface, with lights visible from orbit in certain sectors. Usually in the mountainous regions. On detailed surface scans, there were many hundreds of thousands of sub-surface bunkers and storage depots, alongside massive shafts cut into the planet's crust for ancient strip mining operations long since abandoned. Remains of advanced cities were also seen, with massive space-elevators leading up to above atmosphere warehouses long since abandoned. The strange thing was, the people were surrounded by technological marvels. But only seemed to be stuck in a Medieval Society.

Meanwhile, the pings from the distress signal seemed to come from a certain point near the direct center of the equator. Where, upon descent there was a absolutely gargantuan city. Likely composed of millions of inhabitants. All living in Medieval Harmony.

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

Xzeench

There was nothing in the hunter's star charts, nav comp, or datacrons that gave any indication regarding this particular system. There should have been nothing but dead space, but from what lay beyond the screen indicated otherwise. While breathtaking, the hunter had traveled extensively across the Outer Rim and seen equally similar views. Some were entire city planets; others untouched by the folly of technology.

It wasn't the first time the hunter had come across a previously undiscovered world. A frown grew under the visor of the helm, stretching a hand out to touch a few keys of the holo screen. First step would be to record preliminary data, secure the nav points, and conduct some scans. A few minutes and sensors indicated there were lifeforms, however, none that were recognizable. It was a Type One world, so the air was breathable -- not that it mattered much with the breathing mask worn.

Further inspection indicated that there was no advanced technology. This meant that the hunter would need to proceed carefully. Another few minutes to contemplation and a remote area was selected to land the ship, one that would provide ample cover and security from what would likely appear to be some large bird. The last thing one would want would be to start a panic.

Depending on what the hunter discovered he might proceed into the city. If it was determined to be too risky, then this journey would end here.

 

[Xzeench]

The entry-into planet was a oddly quiet one. Thanks to the advanced navi-computer that the Offworlder possessed, entry was a rather cool and methodical venture. Seemingly entering at the exact angles required to prevent a meteoric impact and glow. Nevertheless, as the ship entered low atmosphere. It was suddenly accompanied by a small flock of drones who promptly began cleaning the ship and removing any harmful off-world bacteria or viruses from it. Though, it would appear that a few scans of the ship's makeup and design were noted and likewise sent off to a unseen central processing unit somewhere on planet. But other than that, The Offworlder's ship was left unmolested and allowed to land.

~The~

-trip down was a stunningly gorgeous sight. Temperate forests as far as the eye could see, with massive gauges cut out of them for large swaths of farmland to provide foodstuffs to a bustling city or for export. There appeared to be some sort of ancient asphalt road, haphazardly repaired and maintained by less-than ideal methods which had this horrendous clash of old and new all in one. This road, among a few other branching paths seemed to culminate into a picturesque highway leading across the land, toward a City nearby. Even beholding its sight from here, was intriguing to an eye of an architect. Massive stone walls sprouting up and pointing skyward, with the banners of a unknown Kingdom emblazoned on the entry gates. Sticking above the walls, was what could be described as a Gothic Cathedral, with a massive flowing flag flying from the top of it, a beacon to all around of whose demesne they trod in.

Nevertheless, the mountainous regions to the south had various ruins jutting from a few crevices. Massive orbital defense batteries, long since inactive and rotting. Whose barrels stuck skyward like graves on a battlefield. A stark contrast from the Medieval environs around. Seemingly ignored by the greater populace.

From what could be gleaned from the visuals. Was that the people actively distrusted advanced technology, or over the millennia. Lost the knowledge to keep it running, and to create spare parts. It would appear that the ability to reverse engineer advanced tech, or create new tech was simply lost to them in favor of a belief in Magic.

Even from here, preliminary scans and scouting operations could deduce that the soldiers were clad in moderately advanced full-body armor of some sort of widespread metal. Similar to conventional Mandalorian armor but being made entire of large plates strapped over a padded uniform than any sort of hyper-advanced body-glove.

​

~From~

whichever ponderings would of been brought to the Outlander, it was suddenly interrupted by a rustling in the bushes. Loud enough to not be any sort of local fauna or cervid species. But of a Sapient. Slowly but deliberately stepping from the rough brambles, were two individuals. Slightly shorter than the outlander, likely because of dietary inferiority. Both of them were visibly Human, a fair skinned sort with light colored hair. Clad over their slightly frailer bodies was a sort of cloaked-town-guard uniform composed of Chainmail, Gambeson Padding underneath, Jack-Chains and a single edged cleaving sword suspending on a baldric which hung from their shoulders. One of which had a Billhook, with a long sweeping edge like a snails shell and a spike atop a long wooden shaft. They both wore a dark blue colored surcoat which displayed the heraldry seen on the walls earlier. However, they seemed to be at ease. The first of the two, stepped forward with a sly smile on his face.

"Art thou lost traveler? Many hath been in theses- parths, lost in thesest forlorn forest. I must imporeth thee, to stay on the roads. Highwaymen and knaves tend to frequent these forests. We can leade- thee to thine way toward Kroatils. Te'Larges City in all the Ten-Tousan' Kingdomms."

And then it hit. The dialect this man spoke was of a obviously primitive nature. However, easily understood with a bit of thought put in. Apparently a result of dialect changes over thousands of years. It must of been Basic at some point in the distant past, but now. It bore only a whisper of familiarity. Or a Common dialect in these parts, used by commoners.

Meanwhile, the man with the Bill only chewed idly on a wheat shoot. Watching the Outlander's movements. His light gray eyes watching the Outlander's hands. While he cast a raised eyebrow at the ship which stood behind the Off-worlder. Seemingly confused by what it was and why it was here. He only seemed to cast a slight shrug to himself before returning his steely gaze to the Offworlder.

It could of been easy to just dispatch of them both by quick and accurate blaster-fire. They seemed to wear little of solid body-protection seen everywhere else in the galaxy. Buuut--- it might be a good idea to be put on the right path. Afterall, the city only seemed to be a thirty-minutes walk away.

~Aravae~

- Watched the sky idly, lost in its ever tantalizing gaze. She wondered and wondered, what lies beyond. A fever-dream for those living in the city of course. Whose fleeting moments was suddenly interrupted by a swift and direct jab at her midriff. Aravae only let out a breath of held-air before looking toward toward Aremyah. Her mouth opening briefly before swiftly being cut of.

"Ah-Ah-Ah. Not a word. You and I have a special assignment today."

"Bu-"

"No buts. We've got to get going to the Smithy, I hear that you've "voluntold" yourself to serve as his aide to finish your sword!"

Aravae grumbled. Manual labor for a Dame's Retinue and closest friend. What kind of world was this to help a mere commoner fix a sword they payed a fortune for. But at least-- it gave time to think.

Aremyah deftly reached forward, grabbing Aravae's shoulder and quite literally pulling her off the marble staircase and toward the cobbled road. Aremyah took the lead, with Aravae trailing close behind with a hunched forward and slightly annoyed expression on her face. Infact, she did flap her wings in protest, a protest that went unheard. As it kicked up dust at the passersby who sneezed and gave a annoyed stare at Aravae. Ignored again of course. This was routine as a Dame's Ward. Do everything, and don't get thanked for it. Of course.

The walk toward the Smithy was a rather slow one. Passing by large market kiosks and people just doing their business was a tiring venture. Swerving in and out of foot-traffic and stopping for lengthy conversations with commoners just because Aremyah happened to know someone was just irritating to the fidgety Winged-Fool. But they eventually made it.

Arriving at the building, the smithy was constructed out of heavy oak material and clad in a deep yellow bronze. As both protection from the fires within and the sun itself. The forge, which sat alongside the length of the building was constantly billowing a deep black smoke from the charcoals and steels being worked within. A sign was present on the front door, a heavy and expensive all metal construction which must of taken months to smith. The sign read: "The Flying Phoenix, Smithy and Forge ~ Home of the Redian Smithing Guild."

But, the inside is where the true eye-candy lay. Upon entering, the stout smell of hot steel and burning charcoal was all that filled the air. Pleasantly delightful. The walls inside were coated in a thin sheet of shined bronze to create a hall of mirrors leading directly to the main hall. Which was reminiscent of conventional guild-halls. With a central large table, drafting area, entrance desk, and with stairs and side-doors leading to unseen quarters or rooms.

The duo of Lady and Ward stepped forth toward the solid oak desk before them, illuminated by the skylights and casting a decorative shadow of an anvil and a sword intersecting eachother. After a few minutes of waiting, the Master-Smith stepped from the back room.

The smith himself was a ruddy man of about middle age, with scars of hot sparks pockmarking his face. He was bearded, and fair skinned as with most of the human inhabitants of town but he seemed to smile and welcome his two guests with open hands.

"Ah! Lady Aremyah, and Lady Lialynn. How good of it to meet you here at such an opportune time! I do have your sword ready Lady Lialynn. I must say, the material you provided was... astonishing. I have never seen anything of its caliber in all my years of forge-craft. I am humbled by how easy it was to work and shape. Please, let me get it for you."

The man turned, dissapearing into one of the back rooms, presumably to a store room for finished products. After a few moments, he returned with a master-craft of engineering and forge work. A sword, fit for a Emperor. An oakshott type XVIa sword. With a curving crossguard and inlayed with fine polished gold. Its scabbard, of oxblood leather and brass fittings alongside a central fuller.

To Aravae, not even glimpsing the blade. It was enough to take the air right out of her lungs just to bear witness to such a work. It did take many-many months for its creation to occur, but now that it was infront of her in all its majesty... It was intoxicating. Aravae reached forward, grasping the scabbard with outstretched hands. Bringing it close to her and looking up and down its length with an awe filled gaze. This was MY sword. She thought, as a smile slowly drew across her face.

Aremyah only watched on as Aravae grasped at all the fine fittings and groped at the fine leather. It too was apart of her own expenses, a coming of age gift for her Ward after being anointed as a Dame herself a year ago. The Smith too had a smile on his face, and was heartily and happily chuckling at the young Dame.

"Indeed, Lady Lialynn. It is my greatest work, and I am honored to of made it for you. If you ever-ever! Need my services again, do not hesitate to send a messenger eagle. I would be yet, honored to work for you again. Farewell, you two. And may she serve you well Lady Lialynn."

He gave a short bow, before turning and vanishing into the forge area.

Aremyah gave a wink toward her friend. Bashing her on the shoulder with a hand.

"Let us go back to the lodge. I am sure you will have plenty of opportunities to use that sword. I am indeed sure!"

The two then quickly departed the forge, heading off toward the lodge located in the Nobles district. The Nobles district was typically reserved for close courtiers of the local King, but after he was deposed and a Duke put in his stead. It now was a Knight's house for all of the noblemen and women working underneath this Duke.

Drifter

(This one took some time, :V

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Gladiator Armor

Armed with: Blood Sister (Pink Core, Red Aura Lightsaber)

Blood Cousin (Pink Core, Red Aura Lightfoil)

Five Rings

Current Configuration: Melissa Io (See Bio)

Crashed on Cathay in Lambda Class Shuttle.

It had been a pure accident that she had ended up here.

An assassin, a Witch sent by The Amalgam had ambushed her on a journey back to her beloved organic Sister Laertia. A stray shot had hit the computer and sent it into hyperspace. Only killing the witch at the last second had brought her enough time to take it out of hyperspace before the ship disintegrated. She was damn lucky the Lynda Version of her working in The GA had been nice enough to let her barrow the armor.

The crash had mutilated her, her broken, twisted body set on fire as it staggered out of the crashed Lambda. It waited a half hour as the fire finally went out and the armor and her body repaired itself.

A slender, long legged woman with golden skin and hair, covered in red and blue hoplite armor finally rose up from the place she had been burning alive only minutes before. She looked around, not recognizing the settings. Only a lovely, if unfamiliar golden forest.

The Android blinked pink eyes around, her enhanced hearing finally picking up a drawn breath of shock. She turned slowly around. Spotted a fur covered woman in antiquated looking robes covering her mouth in shock.

Melissa did what she thought was an excellent cover.

"I was wearing a lot of Burn Ointment when I hit." she said.

The Cathar woman fainted. Melissa put her hands on her hips, sighed, and began to try scavenging for her equipment. She was lucky that Phrik alloy box had stayed intact during the crash--the weapons didn't even have a scratch on them after inspecting them.

Melissa had to figure out where she was but first dragged the fainted woman to safety from the crash site and then began to try and figure out where she was, spotting a worn road and began walking it. Perhaps she could hopefully call a tow...and something to scrape that stain off the inner cabin that had once been the would be assassin...

Drifter

Xzeench

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Another planet, another mission, and another chance for Zachariel to do as he pleased, within reason of course. Then again, he was only really here to evaluate the planet and see if it could be used covertly in the future. So far judging by what Zachariel had seen in the few days that he'd been there, everything pointed to a quiet, nondescript, and out of the way planet. It was easy to reach the planet with a cloaked ship, and even easier to remain hidden in the wilderness, though blending in with the locals would be an altogether different problem. Said problem was one Zachariel was looking to check on, just to see how the locals would react to someone such as himself. The organization he was part of had regular members, but those could blend in just about anywhere. Time to find out what the locals thought of an eleven foot tall 'man'.

Zachariel had covered himself fully in a cloak, one that went from his head to his armored feet. All that was left to see outside the cloak was his helmet and the horns coming out of the top. From a distance, he could be mistaken for one of the knights of the realm, as the helmet was reminiscent of a knights, though he would be an over-sized one. Closer up though, he was akin to a corrupted knight, though few could say from what, and Zachariel would be less than forthcoming of the information.

As it was, Zachariel was walking along a main road leading towards the closest, and largest, city in the immediate area. Most travelers he came across simply kept to themselves, choosing to ignore him, though Zachariel could hear their whispered and worried comments once he'd passed. None yet knew who, or what, he was, and that worried many. Luckily enough for Zachariel, he had only passed caravans and their guards, no official police or anything of the sort. However, he was just itching to see the reactions of the citizens within the city, not to mention how the guards would act. He'd only have to walk for another twenty plus minutes or so, then he'd have many of his questions answered. Beneath his helmet, Zachariel smiled, truly looking forward to the experience.


Drifter | Xzeench | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

(OOC, So. I've decided to put the @s at the beginning of each section. Makes things easier to know who I'm referring to in my response )

The walk back to the villa was nothing less than ordinary. Aravae had been acutely aware of the fact as both she and her mentor walked the cobbled pathways. Traipsing through road-after-road of both ever increasing crowds and an acutely arising sound of the hustle and bustle of city life. It were simply that. Ordinary.

​

As they arrived in unison to the villa. Aravae was personally greeted by the Foot-Captain of the Guard; Captain Tildius. A well known Captain of the local Guard Regiment and subject of Lady Aremyah. A Man-At-Arms and born soldier. The two had history together. Thirty-Years of non-stop servitude to a singular lady was rare, if not unheard of. As a result, the local townsmen had brought up various rumors either false or truthful of both whispers of them being lovers, or some sort of odd arrangement. The truth was unknown for some reason, but alas. A Good-Man-At-Arms were rare in both the Kingdom and beyond.

"Ah- Lady Aravae, Lady Aremyah. Welcome back home-- I still believe your choice to not have any guards with you was truthfully a foolish idea my lady."

The Guard Captain spoke with a certain eloquent tone, likely gleaned from decades of being with a Noblewoman and on-and-off education. It was somewhat charming to say the least. Nevertheless, Aravae opened her mouth to say something only to be promtly cut off by Aremyah.

"It goes to show, how much the people trust it Tildius. Now with honor-do bag your complaints! We have returned to deal with the goings on of governing. You may return to your duties Captain, and do visit my quarters again at dusk we may have to muster late again I'm afraid~--"

"Aremyah..."

"Oh- Sorry Aravae-- ooug- Where was I-- Oh yes. Tildius, have you maintained the pods as instructed?"

"Yes I have, Its an odd piece of equipment must I add. And the occupant within, gave me a fright."

"Don't worry about the occupant Captain-- Now Aravae. I will be heading to my duties, I am sure you can find something to busy yourself in the meanwhile. Ta-ta my Dear, and farewell Captain."

Aremyah quickly walked off, her dark green cloak billowing about at the sudden change of pace from completely stopped to a quick-walk. In all but a few moments, she walked up the nearby grand staircase and off to the left, and out of view. Gone. Leaving both the Guard-Captain and the sword-clutching Aravae alone. The Captain looked over, letting out a mild tease to Aravae.

"Lady Aravae, I see that you've finally picked up a sword!"

This only illcited a slight srnk, from Aravae's mouth as she rolled her eyes. Yes indeed, the two had history. The Captain was always one to joke, even in the face of death. IF this could be considered the face of death. He had trained her in all manner of martial skills. Wielding polarms, leading men, and swordsmanship. And he always loved to rub it in her face, the many-many times he beat her at sparring. Aravae soon transitioned the eye-roll into a slight laugh in return.

"And- you- Lost to me!"

Aravae a few years past happened to best the Captain in Combat. It was a hard fight, but she won. And both she and his lower guardsmen never let him live that fact down. He smiled in return, reaching out a hand to mess the hair of the young Lady at once.

"Perhaps, but it Is I who wins of sheer attrition!"

Aravae cocked backward, her hair now thoroughly messed up. With strands of deep blue and white now separating and falling over her eyes. A meek protest exited the young woman's mouth at the Captain who stood over her like a dragon over his horde.

"I am an Adult, Captain..."

"Not to me my Lady. For me, you shall always be that starry eyed toddler who could barely reach the height of my bootlaces! Alas Aravae, I must go- I bid thee fair tidings, I shall see you at Supper at Dusk."

He smiled again, before turning and shouldering the halberd he was carrying. Marching off to defend the villa from unseen intruders. He quickly, and eagerly left earshot and vanished. The sound of steel plate rattling vanishing into the villa's lighted depths. Leaving Aravae alone in the main hall. Slowly raising her head to see that he was gone. Before smiling to herself.

"Finally! All to myself again."

She quickly upward toward the roof-access point. Her sword rattling in its scabbard as she lunged three stairs at a time toward the roof. Running down the hallway, past a few Maids and past a squire before stopping at the stairwell to the roof. She looked behind, looking for anyone that could see her as she moved a wing forward. Grasping a small iron lockpick from within two feathers with a contented look, she stuck it into the lock and jimmied it briefly before it simply opened! The warm morning air hitting the face of the self proclaimed "Winged Fool." She marched up the stairs, tucking the sword scabbard into her belt before coming face to face with the entire city before her. With only a few meters of roof protecting her from it.

​

She smirked, before taking off full speed toward the edge, Spreading her wings and leaping off the roof, only to be caught by the vast size of her wings which she skillfully piloted upward and toward the birds with a series of slow and deliberate flaps. Getting so high as to reach the clouds in all but a few minutes. The air running past her cheeks, and filling her wings. It was a moment rare in nature. Well worth the wait as she spun and twirled to-and-fro, spinning about and practicing memorized flight patterns. Oh it was wondrous.

In fields beyond the city-

Westenra Mina
- Where the Lambda had crashed, attracted all sorts of attention. The first being, a Cathar traveler who had stumbled upon the wreck and saw a quite literal writhing mass of flesh and bone reanimate itself before her eyes. The cultural and technological contamination was already vast by this sudden sighting of a ship streaking past the air and impacting near one of the major roads.

​

It was only but ten minutes it took for the local guardsmen to be mobilized and moving toward the crashsite. Cresting over the hill to where the crashsite was, were about ten armored warriors of the local Lord's Retinue. Likely on drill before spotting the streak across the sky. The man leading them, a rather tall individual and clad from head to toe in some sort of Chainmail armor. And a large Greathelm which concealed his face. Clutched tightly in his hands, is a poleaxe, with a large crescent shaped blade and piercing spike. Suspended in a leather hoop on his belt sat a large forestry axe. A secondary Weapon. He shouted toward the strange woman who stood over the unconscious body.

"Harken thee interloper! That we arth-armed and ready for battle. I suggest that thee take our mercy and surrender before thy field is bloodied. Shall thee accept, we shallth take thee to the Lady to find your intentions!"

The~

Zachariel Steelblood

​

- Chaos Champion's prance across the countryside did not go unnoticed. As he had been in the process of passing through one of the lesser explored forests. This particular forests he walked through stood privy to the ancient civilization that had existed here. Ruins and the scuttled wrecks of ancient armored personnel carriers were everywhere, alongside the rusted remains of landing craft and military arms. Seemingly abandoned all at once and forgotten about. The sights were breathtaking and the air fresh with the smells of a summers morning. However, he was not alone.

​

The sounds of twigs snapping and tree limbs breaking were heard coming from the Chaos Lord's right hand side. Slowing as it approached. The forest's brambles and foliage concealing whatever was walking beyond. That is until, the bush suddenly parted and a massive figure, standing about twelve feet talk stepped through.

The first thing that was visible was the armor cladding this mutant warrior's body. A rusted, haphazardly maintained suit of Power Armor not dissimilar to the Chaos Lord's own armor. The remnants of paint, a Dark Blue and Gold were visible, along the standardized Catharian Shock Marine seal of a Veteran seen on the warrior's right pauldron. The unhelmeted head that peered back at him, was of an old man. With a heavyset lengthy beard, and long platted hair which hung behind his head. The Mutant Warrior spotted the Chaos Warrior, and moved forward slowly and deliberately to a log before sitting upon it and peering toward him with these tired steel-blue eyes.

The Chaos Lord was in the presence of an Original Catharian Shock Marine. The finest gene-crafted soldiers the Galaxy had ever seen almost five-thousand years ago. Their skill and might was nearly unheard of, and just one could weather the storm of ten-thousand unaugmented men with minimal difficulty. This one, was clad in the light blue heraldry of the 'Brothers of Steel' Shock Marine Battlegroup, one infamous for its usage of melee weapons and heavy power armor. The one before him was a Veteran of the 1st Company of each shock marine battle-group. And his eyes, and worn features told an entire unheard story of its own.

The Shock Marine before him sat on the log, a massive longsword in his hands. He'd quickly but deliberately jab the sword's tip into the soft ground before him before setting his tired eyes on the Chaos Warrior. He'd speak, the words of a strong but tired man leaving his mouth.

"Have you come back to our homeworld to mourn Traitor?"​

 

[Westenra Mina]

Melissa was 'just' on the verge of starting a fun-filled forest adventure on the road when she was stopped. There had been more than she had thought present. Curious. She stared at them. Cathar, like the fainted woman, judging by the feedback from her X-Ray mode. Antiquated style of Armor and Weaponry. Mother would feel right at home here: Melissa saw many of the weapons they used in Mother's private collection.

They spoke in a strange accent. It took a few moments for her learning programs to devise a working fascimile he could understand. Probably would still come off as strange to him but it'd be way stranger if she started speaking in pop culture references they would likely take as the ravings of the mad.

"I give much thanks to thee, and to thine offer of quarter, noble ward of these golden lands..." The Android spoke, slowly tossing her weapons to one side.

"I meant the Lady no harm. The failure of my vessel must have been a great stir to her senses. She fainted right before me. I moved her to safety, lest the flames of my vessel send her to the grave early. I beseech thee and thy warriors to take great care in handling my arms. They are terribly dangerous, and would prove thine ruin if handled improperly." she cautioned, offering her hands in surrender as two of the warriors came to place her in restraints, others carefully picking up her strange weapons. One unsheathed the Katana, made note of its fine, sharp blade, tested it with a few swings before sheathing it.

Another, observing a small, one handed hilt with a small, silver defensive cup puzzled at it. Where was the blade? He spotted a black switch recessed into the hilt.

He hit it, and gaped in shock as a long, thin blade of pink energy with a faint red aura shot out. He swung it around, hearing its high pitched whine. He tested it on a nearby branch, and sheared through it effortlessly with just a tap. He shut it off, staring at it in shock before dropping it.

"Take heed, warden of these lands..." she said to the soldier. "Contact of such a blade upon the flesh of another is often mortal in nature."

He picked it up much more cautiously, and the Biot was led away to their master...

Xzeench

Drifter

Zachariel Steelblood

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Walking along the road, Zachariel found there to be less and less travelers on the road. Not only that, but the surroundings looked less and less like a random countryside and more like a war zone. Zachariel suspected this must have been some important battlefield at some point in this planets history, but he saw few things special with it. It certainly looked different, what with it having half merged with nature, but it was still a warzone. As such, while it might have looked impressive, Zachariel treated it as he would any other warzone. A healthy amount of caution, general indifference, and the needed safety measures to safely traverse the area.

Sadly, the quiet of the area was broken by the sounds of snapping twigs and the footfalls of a large humanoid. For his part, Zachariel kept walking, merely keeping an eye on the direction of the sound, suspecting whoever, or whatever, was causing the sounds would reveal it/themselves. Soon after that thought, Zachariel was proven correct. As the twelve foot tall man emerged from the foliage, Zachariel placed a hand on the pommel of his own sword, while the other remained steady by his side, ever near the pistol on his hip.

Upon fully seeing the man, Zachariel raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, even as he turned to face a fellow augmented humanoid. Though he didn't recognize the man, the colors he bore, or the armor he wore, Zachariel did recognize that this was an old man, one that had seen and done much over his life. And when the man spoke, Zachariel's thought was confirmed further, as the man across from his sounded tired, not due to anything recent, but rather everything in his life coming together. This, combined with what the warrior had said, caused Zachariel to snort derisively, even as his eyes bore into the man.

Zachariel had no clue what the man was talking about, but suspected much. Some war of note had happened, two sides had formed out of one group, and one party was viewed as traitors by the others. Obviously this man took him to be part of the traitorous group, which caused Zachariel to shake his head with mirth, letting out another snort of laughter. While Zachariel wasn't of either party, it would do well to learn what had happened, and if it would affect himself or any of his colleagues. Thus, he decided to play along with the mans delusions. Taking a slight step closer to the man, Zachariel responded, his voice just as strong, but fueled by dark undercurrents, and quite simply, evil.
"And pray tell loyalist scum, what should I be mourning exactly? Last I checked, power is not something to mourn."

Xzeench | Drifter | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

Westenra Mina

​

The Guardsmen steadily lead the "woman" away from the crash-site. Leaving behind a small contingent of four Town-Guards to secure the area and prevent scavengers from looting the site for its material wealth. One of the Guardsmen bound the woman's hands with rope and tied it to a sort of tether which he held in his hand to lead her like some sort of expensive pack-mule. While another gathered her belongings in a large leather bag, and suspended it like webbing from his shoulders. As they walked through the country-side, many of the guards bantered with eachother. With a notable series of banter coming from the guardsmen relating to whiskey and some sort of smokable material not dissimilar to tobacco. The banter quickly ended as they crested a bridge over a large swirling river, exiting the forests. The sight before them, would be of the local Lord's city. A massive sprawling arcology with hundreds of thousands of buildings and likely millions of inhabitants. Judging by the signs of advanced tech being used in its construction, it could be theorized that it was likely built over one of the ancient cities and added to over time. But aside from that, advanced tech was extremely seldom used.

The road there was heavily trodden by both caravans of rich traders, wanderers, and Knights with their entourage of heavily armored Men-At-Arms. Each of them riding upon the back of a Urbak like creature, with the panoply of battle worn proudly over surcoats and tabards. And civilians with brightly dyed clothing, and an eye for riches. The City itself must of been a provincial capital, or even the Throne of a King by how rich it appeared to be.

Then as they approached the gates, a eagle eyed member of the squad pointed out a figure in the sky. A winged humanoid doing flips and twirls about as if they were merely in a game. As if in Unison, all of the Guardsmen peered upward through their Greathelms and Sallets toward the flipping figure. One of them happened to punch the shoulder of another and let out a laugh.

"Why isn't that the Lady's Ward? What is she doing out there? Picking flies from her teeth?"

​

This statement illicited a few chuckles from the guardsmen. Who raised their arms up and attempted to flag the flipping and twirling creature down. It was as if the flying humanoid spotted the group and suddenly dove toward their position in a Falcon-Like Maneuver. As she approached, a woman it appeared to be. Relatively shorter than most of the men around but yet taller then a few of the common-folk. She quickly maneuvered upward again, using her wings as a sort of air brake as she suddenly came to rest in front of the group. Kicking up a bit of dust in the process. Who promptly placed her hands on her hips and smiled as if she had been spotted bathing in a river.

She was obviously a noblewoman. Judging by the quality of her garbs and the heavily decorated longsword hanging at her hip. She had wore a somewhat aerodynamic garb made from stiff cloths and tight fitting undergarments to prevent drag. She wasn't. Human or Cathar. That was obvious. Though many of her species were around. A feature that was obviously unique to her in particular. Was a large set of angel-like wings of black. They only had but a moment before she spoke.

"Hey Sergeant. Laads. Who is--?"

She peered onward for a second, the smile evaporating from her face in a moments notice. It seemed she quickly put-two-and-two together.

"Oh. Well. That quickens things doesn't it?"

Obviously, the rest of the Guardsmen couldn't even figure out who this mysterious woman from the sky was. But it seemed whoever was standing before them quickly figured it out faster than the rest.

"You aren't from here right?-- Uh- Maybe you should come with me with all due haste. You are expected--?"

It seems as if this winged figure had some trouble with coming up with convincing lies to an outsider's ears. But to the common warriors standing nearby, it was easily taken. Meanwhile, she gestured with two fingers, before pointing down the road. It seemed that the Town-Guard knew what she was talking about as they suddenly started marching down the road. With two men in front shouting for others to make way.

Meanwhile the "Winged Fool" dipped behind slightly, until she was almost walking directly abreast of the stranger who stood before them. She smiled again.

"So- My name is Aravae-- and welcome to our little world. If you catch my meaning."


Zachariel Steelblood

The Armored Warrior only reached outwards, gripping the worn down hilt of his sword. He let out a chuckle at the Lord's attempt to mull him into battle. The man was far older than he, and far more experienced in the art of battle it would seem. He looked forward with aged eyes, and rose a brow. He thought all knew of the fate of the Ancient Catharians and their Shock Marines. But that was millennia ago.

"I should've thought that no one remembered the fall. The Dark-Times. For it had been millennia. You truly do not know? It is a shame really my friend. You must be one of the newer monstrosities the Forces of Chaos put as a plague across the galaxy again."

He straightened up, the ancient servos in his armor straining from lack of maintenance. He dusted off the worn vambrace of his arm before looking ahead.

"Come, sit. Let bygones be bygones. I do not seek to purge you from existence like my Brothers would of. Sadly, the thought has crossed my mind as I sit here in contemplation."

He gestured to a worn tree-stump across from him.

"Your forebears and I were once brothers. Fighting to spread the truth across the galaxy of the great Galactic Civil War a millennia ago. We sought to purge the Galaxy of all those who had the force. We tried, and tried. Until one of our own betrayed us and plunged our great Hegemon into Civil War which damn near saw the destruction of everything I held dear. A full five Battlegroups out of fifteen turned traitor. Manipulated by a Great Force User to join them and wage war upon us."

"I saw the destruction of countless worlds. Billions of people. And the deaths of more of my Brothers than I could count. That armor you wear, the gene-craft within you. Was once of our own Design. I will not ask where you acquired it from. As it had made you a warrior in your own right. But my time has passed. And I do not consider it an insult.

"I know of your intentions for this world. This place. It had turned to ruin after /she/ disappeared. The Mother, and the rest of my Brothers. Forever more, vanished. For as to why I am here alone in this forest, the sole survivor out of millions. I fear that this is a worse fate than death. To watch this place change so much. Which is why I shall say."

"There is no place for you on this planet my friend. The people here do not take kindly to tyrants and have the capabilities to make your rule over them difficult, if not impossible. They will use everything. Ancient Technology, and every tactic in the book. I ask that you take pity on my homeworld and stay your hand."

"If not. Then I shall fight to defend it. I am old, but not weak as you may believe. I give you the chance to go forth, and see everything there is to see. Then move on. Like many of your ilk before you."

He reached forward, grasping the hilt of his sword before aligning it across his lap. He peered toward the Chaos Lord again, his tired eyes unchanging as he stroked his white beard with a free hand. Attempting to gauge if he would indeed attack. If he did. The Chaos lord would be in for one helluva battle against a warrior with at least fifteen times the experience than he.

 

[Drifter]

"Art thou lost traveler? Many hath been in theses- parths, lost in thesest forlorn forest. I must imporeth thee, to stay on the roads. Highwaymen and knaves tend to frequent these forests. We can leade- thee to thine way toward Kroatils. Te'Larges City in all the Ten-Tousan' Kingdomms."

This entire world appeared to contain a series of contradictions. Perhaps it was at one time an advanced society but since then, it seemed to remain in stasis within some manner of primitive, medieval technology.

As the hunter was also in full armor with helm, perhaps would be misconstrued to be some sort of knight. While he was happy to get directions, a voice within his helm that would not be discernable to the pair in front of the hunter informed of an update. One that the hunter had been waiting for. A potential clue. It meant returning back to the ship.

Gesturing thanks with both hands, the hunter replied through the breaking mask with a notable metallic drone, [ Not lost, just resting. I thank you for the advisement but just point the direction and I'll seek the city for myself once I have the time. ]

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Listening as the warrior spoke, Zachariel could already tell where this was going. Conquest, war, betrayal, and ultimately defeat, defeat for all involved. Zachariel moved and sat on the indicated stump, merely nodding his head in response to what the warrior had said. This man didn't take the bad blood to extremes as others might have, which was good for Zachariel, he had no interest in fighting just yet, merely learning. Leaning foward with his elbows propped on his knees, Zachariel did indeed learn much, both about this man and the history of this world.

Upon hearing the reason for this mans crusade, Zachariel simply snorted, shaking his head with mirth. It was an endeavor many had tried before, all had failed.
"A futile endeavor, you'd have had to kill everyone and everything in the galaxy. That would see the true destruction of all you hold dear." Snorting again, Zachariel shook his head, falling silent once more.

From then on, Zachariel did not interrupt this story telling, choosing to listen fully, nodding every now and then to show he was still listening. All in all, the story was similar to what he was expecting. Once the story was finished, Zachariel simply sat there, mulling over what had been said, and how to proceed. Eventually he simply chuckled again, even while his opposite looked ready to defend himself. Shaking his head with mirth once more, Zachariel raised his hands up and removed his helmet, bringing it down to lay in his lap.

The face that Zachariel revealed was curled up into a dark smile, and was most certainly not human. When he spoke after that, his voice was still dark, but also held mirth in it.
"Both who and what I am are no doubt far different than what you expected. I have little need for your gene craft, and should it have been used on me, I and my benefactors are unaware of it, for it is they who first used it. At least, they first used their version of it. Not only that, but you simply jump to conclusions regarding my plans here, for this planet. I have no interest in ruling, no in conquest. Though war is my craft, I'm simply exploring for now."

Turning on the stump to gaze out into the forest, taking in the view of the various crashed vehicles, the ruined weapons, and more, Zachariel found himself sighing. Returning his gaze to face the warrior, he spoke once more. As he spoke, his voice lost all the dark undercurrents he had, instead becoming tired, the same sounding voice as the man across from Zachariel.
"I am both similar and very different to the ones you once fought. Not only that, but many things have changed, both here and in the galaxy at large." Zachariel rose to his feet then, extending an arm to the warrior. "I would ask that you join me, so we can both see the sights of this world together, and so you may see that you need not atone for sins not your own."

Xzeench | Drifter | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

The Offworlder's suddenly unnatural tone of voice seemed to startle the young-guardsman before him. Who suddenly shifted backward uncomfortably. It seems that he did indeed have at least a modicum of sense as his response would clearly articulate.

"Mine apologies. Traveth Northernly some two miles. Thee would hav' ta' beet a fool to miss it. Farewell, Traveler."

He and his entourage quickly made off, vanishing from view through the brush. Leaving the Off-Worlder alone. The sounds of birds chirping, and a short gust of wind blew its way through the trees. Knocking a few leaves from them, and having it cascade to the floor in a gentle sweeping fall. For what he chose do now, was up to him.

---

Zachariel Steelblood

The remnant Shock Marine easily picked up on the Gen'Dai's mannerisms and ability to quite literally change its voice at a moments notice. He only looked down, his tired eyes squinting at the worn down cross-guard of his sword. Marveling to himself the Master Craft that it was. Ruined by millennia of battle. It did give him a hint of nostalgia in a strong yet fleeting moment. When the Gen'dai suddenly spoke of a voice entirely his own. His nose furled slightly. Before looking toward this Warrior of Space. He sighed before speaking.

"I no longer have anything else to lose. I have trodden this world for generations of mortal life and yet. I can't help but feel guilty. That my Brothers and I caused this."

He reached out, taking the forearm of the Warrior before him. A somewhat symbolic moment. A Loyalist, and likely someone descended from the Traitor Battlegroups, grasping arms. Not at enemies, but perhaps as companions. For now at least. As he stood, he spoke again.

"There is something wrong with this world my friend. In recent decades, there have been a rise in disappearances. Entire villages, families, even cities. Have all fallen prey to this unseen foe. I fear that it may be the Queen Mother punishing us for falling on superstitious ways. Which is why I must impart this knowledge to you. As no one would listen."

"I know that the Queen Mother is behind this. Her ambition and ruthless might caused our fall. We thought she was merely an avatar of being. An Anathema to all the Force in the Galaxy. But-- I realized that she was simply hiding it. She was a Dark-Sider force user. Ancient. Even more ancient than you or I. Even the Jedi and Sith for that matter. There were whispers that she was descended by the force itself. The very first being created by it. Corrupted. I know that this is a result of some ritual. But I don't know if there is a cure for this."

"But, I do know someone who may know the cure to our vanishing people. A Noblewoman. Living in the City nearby, the Capitol of the 8th Empire of Kratoilis. I do not know her name, but she is directly descended of one of the gene-crafted Daughters of the Queen Mother. I believe she is nicknamed... the "Winged Fool." Take away what you will from that. I think she is the key. She might know where these disappeared vanished to. I will accompany her if you do find her. Help guide her along. Maybe that could help this place find the cure."

 

[Westenra Mina]

The Android studied the manner of dress, the banter, the architecture, all of it providing data for her accelerated learning ability. Signs of advanced tech, long fallen to disuse. She wondered if any still remembered how any of it worked.

A magnificent flying woman in aerodynamic noblewoman's clothes descended from the sky. Melissa calmly X-Rayed her skeleton and muscular system, watching as she talked to the guards. Her eyebrow raised as she was asked if she was expected.

"I am but a survivor of a journey intended to lead me elsewhere, milady." Melissa answered. "I come in peace." (And you leave...in pieces...: 90 XP)

Melissa watched as Xzeench talked to the guards for a bit before joining her with the rest of the guards

Melissa nodded respectfully in her hosts direction.

"It is a pleasure to be graced by thine presence, Lady Aravae. I am known as Lady Melissa. Daughter of the Great Scholar of Dusk, The Lady Nine Lives. Sister to The Knight of Ebon. Princess of The House of The Blood Tiger. Your world is among the loveliest that mine eyes hath ever countenanced. I am truly taken aback by it."

Melissa studied the city they entered.

"My vessel failed during transit. An unexpected hazard, I'm afraid."

(Cutaway of Melissa violently bashing a white clothed Force Witch all over the inner hull of the Lambda until she's a pulpy mess, Hulk versus Loki style.)

(Repeat showing of Witch's extremely violent death from multiple angles.)

(Cutaway of Melissa slipping on the pulpified corpse like an oversized banana peel while frantically going for the Hyperdrive.)

Melissa felt horrible nearly every time she killed, but not where Dark Side Witches were concerned. Feth those sadistic bastards.

"My only intention now is to find some means of flight off this planet. Thine world is a wonder, but it is not mine."

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Zachariel nodded his understanding as the warrior spoke, even if he didn't quite understand why this warrior blamed himself so. He himself had done terrible, terrible things, but could still rest easy at night. Perhaps it was due to his opposites upbringing, an idea that didn't surprise Zachariel much. Helping to drag the warrior to his feet, Zachariel patiently listened to his explanation of the situation. It was highly suspect, and there was no doubt some grand scheme in the making. This also meant Zachariel needed to break this scheme apart, especially if this planet was to be used as a stopping point. Having enemies close to home was never a good idea

Once the warrior was finished speaking, Zachariel nodded before responding.
"There is some greater scheme at play, though I only have some assumptions about them for now. This Queen Mother is either creating an army out of the kidnapped people, sacrificing them for some greater purpose, or sowing fear for whatever reason." Turning in the direction of the city, Zachariel donned his helmet once more. "If this Winged Fool is the key to defeating the Queen Mother, then I say we find her and make our services available. Perhaps we'll also discover the Fools name. As it were, mine is Zachariel Steelblood, and you are? We wouldn't want any confusion in the future as it were."

Once he had an answer, Zachariel would begin marching towards the city. It would be a relatively short walk for beings such as them, but the sooner they got there, the better. As it was, it would take around ten minutes or so, not long at all.

Xzeench | Drifter | Westenra Mina

OOC- That's me told, was thinking time skip so it's not a post or two of just walking, and you can describe the city at your leisure then. Thx, and great story so far!

 

[Xzeench]

(OOC: Thanks! If I'm speeding too far ahead, or going too slow. Let me know!"

Zachariel Steelblood

​

The two men walked on. The ruined Shock Marine leading the Warlord along the beaten path of the road to a metaphorical Rome. Meanwhile, the Shock Marine stopped suddenly as they exited the forest and came face to face with the massive city walls stretching for miles across the horizon and wheat strewn plains. Notable in the fact that the wall was mostly of beaten metal. Forged from an ancient foundry to protect the city from ground assault during orbital landings. Now, in a state of disrepair and mostly concealed behind mined marble blocks. A City of Marble, not unlike that of the upper wards of Coruscant. A notable feature, dominating the skyline was of a massive statue. Lovingly maintained by the civil populace. A woman, by the looks of it. Standing at about 300 meters skyward. Whose pose, was one of a look to a hopeful future. Her right hand, outstretched toward the heavens. The other, clutching a massive totem. Likely listing the casualties of some ancient war, or documenting the history of whomever was written about. The woman, even from here had obvious Cathar Features. Such as slit pupil eyes, and facial markings. In this case, made of a sort of bronze which shown brightly in the morning sky. The marine soon spoke after a few moments of silence.

"They once called me Shield-Captain Titus. But now, I'm just known as the "Soothsayer."

"This... was the Capitol. Seat of the Hegemony's Power and incorruptible essence. That statue was sculpted to venerate the Queen Mother. And, even used a shrine after the disappearances. That column she's holding, lists all the names of the 12 Genetically Enhanced Sons and Daughters of the Queen Mother. Six Sons, and Six Daughters."

The Shock Marine looked toward the Warlord. Reminiscing a bit.

"Sadly. Three of the sons turned traitor. Took privy to the Forces of Chaos and took their Battle-groups with them. See where their names were covered with a plate of Ceramite. Once, this statue was far more grand in design. Gold Plated. And apart of the Space Elevator that connected to the battlestation in orbit. If you saw it."

"The City was once much larger. Nearly encompassing this entire region. But- with these disappearances, and rampant plagues and famines. There simply wasn't a need. And much of the City's old quarters, including the Inter-Galactic Museum of Artifacts. Were bulldozed over and had farms planted over them. I don't blame them. What good, is an ancient suit of armor. When the people are starving to death and fighting over a bag of food."

"Me a few of my brothers survived the total vanishing. Three of us. We had to maintain order as much as possible. Including the fact we had to take as many artifacts and priceless relics away to hide in the vast mountain complexes nearby. However- as time went on and they either perished from attacks, or simply left me to crusade across the stars on their own volition. I soon became the only one left. I know not of any more of my Brothers still alive to this day- Though I have heard stories of a group of bounty hunters matching our tactics and fighting style."

"As for the traitors. Some still exist to this day. I am sure of it. Bloated, reanimated corpses. Or blood crazed war mongers. But we Loyalists are still few and far between. I am one-hundred percent sure, there are more of us somewhere in the galaxy. Maybe assimilated. Or living their lives as civilians."

He started up again, walking slightly infront of the Warlord. Taking in the surroundings. By the looks in his eyes, one could spot tears forming. It hurt his very being to see the people he had once defended and protection fall so hard. From the world of enlightenment, to the world of ignorance and superstition.

Luckily, they walked on the rearmost roads. Typically reserved for foot traffic from the other cities in the region. Merchants, one time adventurers. That sort of thing. Meanwhile the Marine started talking again, as the dirt roads soon turned into cobbled surfaces. A characteristic of a rich city being able to cobble its roads.

"The second planet in system. Soliusu. The one that read as ecologically dead. It wasn't before. If you read the history holos. Darth Vititate once drained two worlds of all their force essences. Leaving none alive on that planet and rendering it ecologically dead, and damn near uninhabitable. The same happened there, on a much greater scale. We once used it as a prisoner colony. Keeping troublemakers from across our Empire away from the valued Worlds. Such as Bogo'Rai, and Thearterra. At the cost of the living aliens there. On that day--- fifteen billion souls were extinguished within minutes. That was the final nail in the coffin for our empire, and what I believed to of kickstarted the vanishings."

"I ask that you look upon our world. And know the mistakes of endless warfare without end, and the folly of ambitious leaders wanting to spread their truth across the galaxy. We damn near did. And we payed in droves for it. Take this place as a lesson my friend. It may not be a lesson you want to hear."

As they approached the gates, the locals peered on toward the two strangers with suspicious yet intrigued gazes. Moreso at the Shock Marine than at the Warlord. As his kit did not appear to pass with local customs and designs. The local Guardsmen also peered upward at the two strangers with awe. Their frail bodies eclipsed by their super-human or in the case of the warlord. Super-Alien physique. The Shock Marine stopped again. One could spot his lip quivering briefly. As a single tear exited his eye and slowly slid down his cheek. He seemed to gather what strength he had before pushing forward.

"Just this way. The Market. If we could spot this Winged Fool, it would be there. Take a look for wings... that's all we have to go on."

As they walked, the people tried not to make eye contact with the two strangers. Either out of fear, or just judgment. The Market soon came up. After they passed a series of crossroads. Before them, lay a massive mile wide by mile wide Market of hundreds of thousands of shoppers, and shops just littered about in no particular order. For example, in one look one could spot a large bazaar selling expensive perfumes and exotic spices, then another selling ancient trinkets, likely from the ancient museum as either good-luck charms or tourist trap devices. Ignorant of their worth and value to those millennia past.

Then they saw it. A short woman compared to them, walking alongside another woman. Who yet bore a stange set of equipment. It was likely the latter woman was an offworlder like the Warlord. And then- they saw it. The wings. Superimposed on a horned humanoid's lower back, they were vaguely reminiscent of the wings of a Crow, or Sparrow. Compared to everyone else, she was completely unrelated to them. Around them stood Cathar and Humans, but that winged creature was neither. She had large swept horns like a crate dragon, and completely teal hair from the middle down. And had very bird'like facial markings.

This was their quarry. The Shock Marine Meanwhile quickly spoke up.

"There! That has to be her. Lets follow, and see what they're up to. Now listen to me very carefully my friend... Do not. Use anything else besides a sword or any melee weapon. If you fire off a blaster, you will cause a panic the likes of which the galaxy has never seen... be mindful. That's all I ask."

----_---
Westenra Mina

Meanwhile...

It seems that the millisecond that Westenra mentioned "Your world, and ship" within sentences of each-other it immediately got the attention of Aravae. Who quickly stopped in her tracks and looked over with this look of both intrigue and slight confusion. She quickly leaned close, whispering.

"So that "Device" really did work?"

She promptly turned again, moving with the guardsmen, who have now caught up and trailed slightly behind. She made it quite absent mindedly obvious that she was probably conversing with the "prisoner." This time she spoke again.

"We can talk about--- your "ship" when we get to my Dame's villa... She might have a few answers for you that I do not have... /yet/. Color me very-very intrigued. You're from the "Outside" right?"

Then, it was sighted that two large figures were trailing slightly behind them. Which prompted the Guardsmen and Aravae to quicken their step. Probably no better than just mercenaries looking to steal Aravae's sword. Probably.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Before he knew it, Zachariel and the marine were by the city. The city they came upon was a thing of beauty, though obviously it had once been far grander. Nonetheless, it was still unique and looked after by the populace. In particular, the large statue was very eye catching. Once he had the warriors name, Zachariel nodded. At the same time, he realized that this warrior was more than a simple warrior, but a leader of men. Immediately thoughts went to how he could be useful, and it was quite simple that he'd be very useful regardless of what happened.

As Titus brought his attention to the statue once more, Zachariel found himself snorting. It made for an excellent target, especially if it had also been part of the space elevator. A target to destroy both moral and trade, two for one.
"If this statue is there for the Queen Mother, perhaps we should destroy it." At that, Zachariel pulled a handful of thermal detonators out of a pouch on his pocket, tossing it up and down a few times. Hardly enough to destroy it, but perhaps enough to knock it over. Besides, he had more elsewhere. "It'd be such a shame, but it would be quite effective in drawing her out. Besides, if the Queen Mother is behind all of this ruin and destruction, not to mention the disappearances, well it'd be a nice way to introduce ourselves. 'Course, we wouldn't do it now, but perhaps later when no one is watching."

Then Titus began speaking of the past once more, explaining how things became as they were. Zachariel kept an ear on the conversation and every now and then nodded or said something to go with the story, but he was more focused on their surroundings and the people. However, the bit with the second planet being destroyed, that did peak Zachariels interest. It would be quite useful to be able to do something like that, meaning he'd need to research it more. As for Titus' warning, Zachariel heard it, and promptly discarded it. What was said and seen may be useful to those who care, but to a being such as Zachariel, who didn't care for much other than what he wanted to do, and slaughter how he wanted, it was useless. Nevertheless, Zachariel did remember it, for it could be useful in the future, particularly in any conversations he might have with Titus.

As they walked, Zachariel couldn't help but smirk at the reactions of the locals. He was used to being greeted with awe, fear, or anything in between, but this was still different. These people knew so little compared to others who Zachariel met, or killed. Once they entered the market, Zachariel allowed his gaze to travel over everything present, taking in the sights, smells, and sounds. At the same time, his helmet identified what wasn't useful, could be useful, and most definitely was useful. Zachariel made a special note to revisit the things that would be very useful, such as the ancient items.

Then his eyes fell on the Winged Fool, just as Titus saw her as well. With her sighting came a warning, one to be cautious, and Zachariel couldn't help but chuckle again. He preferred fighting in melee anyways, it made it all more real, rather than a simple point and kill method of fighting. As such, he merely nodded in response to Titus, starting to follow the Winged Fool at the same time. At the same time, he spotted the woman accompanying their target, another offworlder. This would certainly be interesting.

As they trailed their target, Zachariel was getting a scan of their surroundings, checking to see what all was around them, and getting himself a map. Once the scan was finished, Zachariel noticed that the Winged Fool and her entourage had spotted them. Smirking slightly at this new challenge, Zachariel turned his head to Titus and spoke, even as he grabbed Titus' shoulder and pulled his fellow into an alley beside them.
"Follow me." And just like that they vanished from their targets view, simply disappearing from view. "Once we go through here and up this pass, we'll appear in front of them. Most likely within ten meters or so of our target."

With that said, Zachariel led them onward. Sure Titus wanted to simply follow the Winged Fool, but Zachariel found this would be far more entertaining, and it would get them to their target much sooner. Besides, they knew where the target was, and a general direction she was traveling. It would be nigh impossible to lose her. As it was, Zachariel still advanced far swifter than he had before, moving at a very brisk pace. In but a handful of moments they would appear before their target, with their prey being none the wiser.

Xzeench | Drifter | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina

In a swift orderly movement. The two gargantuan warriors suddenly turned and vanished into a random alley. In the meanwhile, Aravae was giving her little talk as they walked ahead toward the villa. It was in visual range now and now came to dominate the area to their direct front. That was, until they both came walked out of an alley infront of them. The big, black armored knight-creature standing before the eight or so guardsmen who escorted Aravae.

Each of those Guardsmen were apart of a Retinue, and were as such equipped well. Full Plate Armor, Poleaxes, Bardiches. All of which made of some strange ceramic based material. Not steel, like they have seen before, used by the regular town guard. However, that wasn't the strangest thing.

​

It seemed, that as they continued on a single odd fellow, clad in mostly cloths and a open faced helmet joined them. He too had the heraldry of Aravae's Lady. But, bore a single edged sidesword, and some kind of large bore pistol suspended on the baldric which hung from his shoulder. Notably, it glowed somewhat, likely ancient archeotech reverse engineered into a primitive hand-cannon. He stepped infront of Aravae, speaking toward the two who blocked the way.

"Make way. You're impeding on Watch Business. Make an appointment if you want to speak with Lady Aravae. Otherwise, get out of the way." ​

The man spoke like a nobleman. Likely, a field officer stepping in with his casual clothes after seeing the sudden arrival of two heavily armored bandits who had the bright idea to attempt to kidnap someone in broad daylight on one of the busiest streets in town. He did make his statement thorough, and directed at the Warlord.

However, the Shock Marine only watched on from the alleyway. Trying to see if Zachariel would cause a massive scene and gunfight for no reason at all. Save for bloodlust and a loose set of morals...

 

[Westenra Mina]

Melissa began to absorb more and more data. This place had once been very advanced, but had suffered a regression. But learned people were attempting to make space contact.

This was very dangerous, Melissa realized. They were probably doomed to be discovered by a major power. The culture shock from running into her would be bad enough...

"I am indeed from the outside, milady. But I must reinforce what I hath uttered in thine presence earlier: I am here by unfortunate tides not of mine own making. If thee hath such a device as methinks thou art in possession of, I did not hear thine call, I assure thee."

Audio feed back, olfactory feedback allow her to distinguish they were being followed. By big men. Big men in armor. If they were huge, then that meant they had huge guts! Huge guts for ripping and tearing!

Joyous.

"We are being followed, Lady, Aravae..." Melissa whispered, then realized Xzeench had spotted Zachariel Steelblood and his ally.

"If thou woulds't permit me at least my sword, I could be of aid..." she whispered.