Dominion CIS | The Red War: Naalol

[Ascendant Muse]

NAALOL

For many years, the Western Systems had known an unconventional peace.

An alliance of outer planets kept the most ruthless forces at bay, ensuring that their member worlds knew peace within their borders. However, as the alliance fell inward, that peaceful reality came to an abrupt end. In the wake of Empires, Warlords often take root. In the wake of Republics? Remnants. In the case of this alliance? Anarchy. A typhoon of lawlessness ripped through the West - so viciously that the peace of the Southern Systems was compromised.

With such chaos occurring on their doorstep, the Confederacy rose to take action. So began the Red War: a battle against Chaos itself.

Naalol was the second step.

For the totality of its history, Naalol existed as a world of small population and even smaller repute. It did not participate in Galactic matters on any scale, save for the necessary trade to keep its people alive. Over the generations, Naalol's way became that of simplicity. A single, well-populated city existed as its sole ties to the outer worlds - beyond this, the people clung to the mountains and lived off the land. Theirs was an honest toil, one poised to remain uninterrupted into perpetuity. That is, until the Western Collapse.

In the wake of the fall, Naalol saw an increase in vicious souls flocking to their world. Chaos had begun to reach out, intent on snatching the few resources the people had to their name. Reports of this uptick in malice were not lost upon the world's closest neighbor - the Confederacy - and thus an accord was reached. In the eyes of the Southern Systems, the world's value was greater than that of its mountains and natural splendor. Rather, it could serve as a valuable staging point for their ventures into the West.

The accord was simple: permitting the Southern Systems to purchase a sizeable portion of lands and airspace for usage in their operations, coupled with entry into the Southern community. In return, Naalol would be guaranteed a return to its peaceful existence. With the agreement set in stone, the day turned to preparations made by the Confederacy. A formal operations based was in dire need of construction. Moreover, the surrounding lands were in need of immense scouting. There was much work to be done on Naalol, so it began.

Spoiler: Points of Interest

Fort Callat. Ground has been broken and basic fortifications have begun to rise. Lakeside, the locale is encircled by a tentative set of walls with better, strong ones on the way. Supplies and personnel are constantly landing at the freshly-constructed landing zones. And, a proper mess hall has finally been established. As the center of Confederate operations in the system, the Fort has a lofty set of goals that will require assistance to complete. From the erection of structures, to the training of personnel, there is much to do and little time to delay. How will you help see the Fort come to fruition?​

The Wildlands surrounding Fort Callat is largely an enigma to the Confederate personnel. While automatic scans show little save wildlife occupying the woodlands and mountains, the locals have many stories about the locale. From caverns leading to troves of treasure, to ancient temples devoted to Darkness, there is all manner of rumor circling the newfound lands. It now falls to you to bring the truth into the light. Set out into the land and investigate - are these claims the product of superstition and hyperbole? Or is there something far greater lurking just around the corner? ​

Naalol is home to far more than just the rising Fort Callat and is open for you to explore. Shape your stories! ​

Spoiler: Tag

Alban Roble
Alden Akaran
Amelia von Sorenn
Arisone
Archon Xris
Alaria Telwith
Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Bastille Rommer
Beric Layne
Bentil Mortop
Bullwark
Caesar Kenway
Corvus Dravere
Colton Renth
Damsy Callat
Darth Pryde
Decious
Eli-Mae Forrest
Eryneth
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
Holt
IG-65A
Ingrid L'lerim
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Lady Moll
Luna Terrik
Lyla Quinn
Maani
Maple Harte
Mathieu Brion
Morrigan Vale
Rabbit
Rann Thress
Maria Savilia
Maur
Millu Lee
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nine Lives
LGMForever
R4-AUD
Razelle Breuner
Redd
Roy Americus
Ryk Gaelir
Rylan Kordel
SC-A1
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Talon Rahl
Talak Jenste
ToKola Bakari
Tess Valnora
Tyran Numeck
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Veronika Fleischer
Visanj T'shkali
Voph
Vyse Valorous
Vytal Noctura
Valeria Sempronia
Uxagi Xatash
Rayne Centaris
Ryk Gaelir
Taiia Mataan
Sabine Delacroix
Vess Sadragen
Anashla Deshal
Lesya Kosarev
Jordar Varcskel
Julra Repraj
Ashelia Solidor
The Monster
Draconis Sederius Wolf
Karlie Lynn Destat
Easy-G97
Jason Farkas
Cypher Rage
Danielle Mueller
Nimue
Anakwor Farlorn
Lyra Vent
Teyla Sal-Soren
Corran Watts
Mila Uhlesifa
Udrid
Vemric Keldra
Ar'tal Ktruok
Dispara
Corran Watts
Tyché
Morrigan Vale
Lyra Vent
Anakwor Farlorn
Danielle Mueller

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

WEARING: xxx
WEAPON: xxx
TAG: Meili Feng | Naedira Darcrath

The Wildlands.​

​

Perhaps it was the stereotype which drew Gerwald to this particular mission, or the woods themselves. Something was wrong, mysterious, and the tales surrounding them were likely nothing more than fables. Unfortunately, the Lupine had experienced too much in his life to believe that anything was actually a fable. The more something was unbelievable, the more the wolf believed it, after all, he was man that could shift into a wild beast. He would not venture into the woods alone. There was another that was as much a creature of the woodlands as he. There were several Gerwald had collected it seemed, but today he would be joined by only one.​

​

Meili Feng​

​

The fox interested Gerwald. They had worked together only once before, and their conversation had been brief. Today she joined him in her new capacity, his squire. What made her unique was the refusal to wear the armor of a squire or carry the weapon of a force user. This one came from a culture which valued similar things to the one Gerwald had been raised in, though he would admit they did not take honor to the degree this woman seemed to.​

​

A half grin pulled at his lips as the familiar scent of forest air filled his lungs. There was always the distinct smell of earthen soil, heady leaves, and the bark which covered the treed which surrounded them. A stream moved near them, to faint for the human ear to discern, but Gerwald could hear it, and he was certain the fox could as well. Were Redd with them they would as well, but Gerwald had not seen her. Something was wrong. She was missing, and he did not know where or what had happened. Inwardly he was concerned, but for the sake of his newest squire, Gerwald did not show it.​

​

"It is too quiet," he said as they ventured beyond the border and into the darker places of the wood.​

​

Gerwald was drawn in by it. There was a darkness which had taken him. Despite his the way he carried himself, or the kindness of his countenance, the lupine walked a path which moved him further from the path of light every single day. He had chosen the path long before his friend had been murdered, but had not embraced it until she had gone.​

​

A hand moved to chest. Underneath the plated armor, Gerwald bore the burden of a promise he intended to keep. Naedira Darcrath had been bound to the ring which hung around the wolf's neck. The Mountain had not seen fit let her simply die, but rather bound her soul to something, a tether, that anchored her to one world while allowing her passage into the next. Today it seemed to pulse, as if the forest itself called to it, or the darkness within. Perhaps Gerwald was not the only one the dark side called to.​

​

He should have been worried.​

​

They should both have been worried.​

​

The lupine was not. No, in the forest he felt at home. Despite the quiet which was out of place, the wolf wanted to run, to be free.​

​

"Later," Gerwald said to himself as he did his best to calm the urge to shift. It had been some time.​

​

His eyes fell back to his squire. While nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, aside from the quiet, this seemed a good moment to instruct.​

​

"Tell me, what do you sense. Reach out to the forest and tell me what reaches back."​

 

[Meili Feng]

​

“It’s a forest. I smell mulch and I can hear the birds and I think some animals in there.”

Meilei looked back at Gerwald as if he was loosing his mind, her head shaking as her braid swung behind her. She had no idea what he was thinking about, or saying, perhaps it was some force user mystic mojo. Her mother had always been like that back home, asking her how she felt about a place, or what she could sense.

“I really hope nothing in there decides to reach back to us, otherwise we might just have bigger problems to deal with. The last thing I want to have to deal with are walking trees, or zombies or possessed animals.”

The young woman knew that her imagination might just be running away with her, something which she entirely blamed on Ares Stone. But after his ghost stories how could she not expect the worst or some strange manifestation of the force. It really was the weirdest kind of magic out there, things would be so much easier if everyone decided to do things with their own two hands instead of mumbo jumbo hocus pocus.

One hand drifted down to rest on her staff, the weapon shrunk to the size of a baton for now as she peered around before glancing back at the Sith.

“Do you sense something in there? Should I be worried about it? Or about you? You’re not going to end up possessed and trying to kill me are you? Because if you do I swear that I’m going to kick your ass all over this forest on principle.”

She knew that she was pushing the bounds of familiarity with her commander, but really, ask a stupid question get a snarky answer. She’d denied all her mother’s attempts to get her in touch with the energy that surrounded them, she’d do just the same to Master Lechner’s attempts. He at least wasn’t as terrifying as her mother was…nothing really was.

The shade of the trees did make for a nice cover, although she found herself casting her gaze from side to side, watching for whatever it was that had spooked the Sith so much. He didn't seem like a man given to panic, so it never hurt to be a little careful, at least until she knew what it was they were dealing with.

"You're sure the cave is this way?"

Gerwald Lechner | Naedira Darcrath

 

[Abel Denko]

W I L D S​

Tag: Teyla Sal-Soren , Gerwald Lechner , Meili Feng

He hoped it was simply rumor.

Naalol was the latest in a series of steps taken by the South to deal with the West. As a world relatively close to the Western Systems, Naboo had been abuzz with talk of the current state of affairs. Of anarchy sweeping so quickly across OPA space that it threatened to wash into their borders as well. The concerns were enough that Abel had all the justification he needed to rise from the halls of House Denko. Yet, in truth, the man needed a break from the gilded life of Lordship.

It was not that he was ungrateful for the opportunity to lead his kin in any capacity. Far from it. However, he was a native of Nar Shaddaa. He thrived in the simple. He made the best out of the obscure. And wearing silks of extreme expense did not sit right with him. He knew what it felt like to go days without a meal, now he could eat whenever he chose. To excess. The shift in his world was monumental - it was difficult to adjust. And, frankly, he doubted if he ever would.

Thus, he got off Naboo and fell in with the latest venture of the Southern Systems. Specifically, aiding in the establishment of a foothold on Naalol. As his subordinates directly assisted in erecting fortifications, Abel set about investigating the Wilds. Local rumor had it that there was Darkness in the hills. And being the good Lightbearer that he was, purging a blight was certainly the kind of activity he could get behind. Fortunately, for this venture, he was not alone.

Today, he had come with a new acquaintance, an exquisite woman named Teyla.

Perhaps it was fate that their paths crossed, yet they soon found a mutual appreciation for the Light and for stepping off Naboo when they could. Thus, as Abel led the way through the trees, his companion was not too far behind. For a few moments, they shared smalltalk whilst navigating. Stories of adventures outside of Naboo and their mutual "gripes." He even posed a knock-knock joke or two. However, he paused and raised his hand, signaling for her to stop in her tracks. "Do you feel that?" he asked.

The sensation was...much akin to gloom. Settling in on the edges of his mind. With but a whim, he dispeled the presence - but it was a clear indication that something was amiss within the Wildlands. Perhaps the locals had some truth to their rumors after all. He drew a breath and expanded his senses. Reaching. Searching. He found two souls nearby - and given the nature of his reach, they would feel his presence like a beacon. But beyond them, he did not see the source of the gloom. Turning, he motioned with his chin in the direction of those he found. "We're not alone. There are others down this way...Shall we?"​

 

[Yusha]

N A A L O L​

Tag: Shalita Verd

Even Kings can learn.

It was not often that the King of Beggar sought out members of his own family. After departing his homeworld in search of his mother's people, he had found the famed House Verd. And with this discovery, the truth of his birth was made evident. In the beginning, ignorance had seen him blame this House - blame his grandfather specifically - for his growing up in sordid conditions. For his growing up without his mother. Yet, after learning the truth, he was...conflicted. On one hand, the House was certainly not the aggressor as he was led to believe, but the victim.

And yet, he...he had no desire to dive into their embrace. He had no desire to carry the Verd name like his cousins. He walked a strange line, of being close to his family, but being distant.

There were few that he even saw fit to forge connections with. Few that he would ever seek out deliberately. One such person was Shalita Verd . She was his aunt; but moreso, she understood the King of Beggars' lifestyle the most. While he was a monarch of the shadows, she embodied them. If he was an artist, she was a famed painter. He lived in the night - she was the night. For this reason, her skill alone earned his respect. Who she was earned his adoration.

Thus, as the Southern Systems embarked on the latest of their ventures, Yusha reached out to his aunt. He inquired if she would be willing to teach him her ways. And, fortunately enough, she had agreed. The Wilds of Naalol would become his classroom. He awaited her arrival whilst standing atop a rather sturdy tree limb. His gaze was upon the horizon, witnessing the birds and other critters skittering about in the canopy. Naalol was beautiful, but there would be time for sight-seeing later.

For today, he was to learn at the hands of his idol.​

 

[Teyla Sal-Soren]

_________________________________________________________________________________

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A threat to the Southern Systems was by extension a threat to her home, to her family, and to those she swore to always protect.

That was something she could not sit back and abide.

Years ago when she was still a bright-eyed youth, leaving home had been a thrilling adventure, a rebellion against the demand of her noble parents who wanted their daughter to take her place as a lady of the house when her time as a Handmaiden had come to a close. It was an opportunity to carve out her own place in the Galaxy and see what she was made of, outside the stringencies of the gentry. These days however, she found it increasingly difficult to leave and dreaded it every time, feeling like her heart was being slowly chipped away inside her chest. Not because she would miss the grandiose lifestyle of which she was more than willing to get away from, but because she had learned the hard way, the value of one's family.

Ironically, it was exactly for that reason she could not be idle. If there was even the slightest possibility that someone she loved might come into harm's way, then she would go through hell and high waters to protect those few whom she held dear.

Thus driven to action, Teyla had departed Naboo at the behest of the Confederacy to investigate the rumors and drive back any possibilities of danger, imparting farewells early that morning and leaving both of her children in the capable hands of her three sisters.

The journey to Naalol had not been without good company, pleasantly surprised by the blooming commadreship she found in Abel Denko .

Teyla was grateful for both the distraction from thoughts of home and by the simplicity of being able to connect with someone so effortlessly. It’d been a while since she’d clicked with anyone on such levels of amity and professionalism, finding a refreshing change of pace in the back and forth exchange of simple pleasantries, appreciating both his candid thoughts about noble life, and the other light bearers' easy humor whilst the two navigated through the wilds that grew increasingly thick the further in they moved, with corridors that might have once been open now crowded by deadfall and bracken.

When her companion stopped and motioned to her, Teyla’s stride halted and went no further. Her warm chestnut eyes peered beyond him and into the woods, feeling a cold shiver run up her spine.

“I do.” She replied, a tinge of apprehension in her tone, immediately recognizing the heavy feeling of bone chilling emptiness for what it was, having had intimate brushes with the darkside before. Teyla steeled her spine against the underbrush of fear that tried creeping in and stepped boldly behind Abel once he indicated they move forward to meet these ‘others’, giving a slight tilt of her chin in agreement.

“Let’s hope they are amiable companions.”

And not ill-met foes.

Gerwald Lechner | Meili Feng | Abel Denko ​

 

[Mic Gallagher]

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TAG: Pravus Cruento Aela Wren​

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A mysterious holomessage from an anonymous employer. What's new? All this bum knew was that he had to skip over to a backwater planet whose only claim to fame was the ancient Civil War battle that was fought there.

Go and investigate. See what you can find for research purposes.

Like what the hell was he looking for? He hated vague employers. That meant his bum had to spend extra time digging and dodging zombies. But at least he got extra credits for it. Which meant booze and beach.

Help will be needed for this endeavour. Your companions will meet you in New Lessu.

This irked him a bit. This bum worked alone. No one to get in your way or judge you when you take a swig of courage juice. But Mic made his way back to his home planet to pick up his so called companions. Hopefully they like a drink. And have food for the road.

What a pair.

What was he supposed to do with a frickin' club manager?! Like, how fast can a suit run when snot monsters are coming after you? Like, does Pretty Boy know how to use a blaster? The girl was pretty....until she opened her mouth. It seemed Olly had a female biological version. Great. This bum was now stuck with two obnoxious entities. She even kicked him off his own pilot seat! There's a Gungan phrase in here somewhere.

Hey, at least she can fly! Sexy.

A hop, skip and a jump later, their bums were on Naalol. Forests. There was a holofilm analogy in here somewhere. And a wide-brimmed leather hat.
"I've heard of some temples somewhere in there." he said, motioning in a general direction with his blaster. "Uh....not the good kind, if you wanna know. Bad joojoo. Like, skewer you bad." he added. He didn't know how sharp these companions really were.

 

[Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud]

Naalol - Wilds - A Temple to the Force
| Vytal Noctura | Stardust Solus Skirae |

Azidalf Elde'gaud stepped a foot over a particularly wet and muddy puddle, no doubt the leftover from a recent rainstorm, and let the his body follow. His pale, wrinkled hands clasped firmly behind and just below his waist. His long, neatly combed beard and mane of flowing silvery-white hair blowing gently to his left in a light breeze.

He looked very much out of place for the wilderness of the valley, and looked like he belonged in a monastery atop on of the mountains that Naalol was known for. Hard to imagine that nearly eight hundred and forty years ago, the planet had been ravaged by a brutal battle between two Galactic Powers that really weren't all that different in practise.

His robes were of a slightly faded, pale blueish-grey. He stopped his slipper'd feet short of a rather unimpressive, hidden temple. It was made of a very unmemorable grey stone, about as colourless as stone could be. Not even so much as a warning engraved into an arch in an ancient, runic language bidding warning or welcome to those who entered.

It was, by all definitions of the word, bland. It was set into a rocky cliff face that stretched for near on a few kilometres upwards, embedded into the base of one of the grander mountains within the range. It was covered by thick, dense foliage of the green, palm-leafed variety, and protected by thick brush, separated only by a few dirt, or rather, mud paths set out from frequent, long-standing use, though not in present years, as evident by the regrowing grass and intrusion of nature.

To Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud, however, it was the exact definition of fascinating and intriguing. It was one of the very many Treasures of Creation that he aspired to discover and explore throughout the unceasing twilight years of his life. And, to the Saint, aspiration and Force of Will were all he needed. He ate to quench his thirst and drank to cease the rumblings of hunger... or perhaps it was the other way around.

Regardless, looking upon the uninspiring monument, the first of the Elde'gaud name found a smile brought to his lips. Faint, but not lacking in meaning. His bright, shining teal eyes gazed up from the very foot of the entranceway all the way up to the top of the mountain, and then back down to rest upon the opening in the mountain, or rather, where the opening should have been. For inside the entranceway, there was nothing but a smooth slab of the same grey stone that made up the monument's very minor outer appearance.

With how seamlessly it was integrated into the inner archway, it might lead one on to believe that there was, infact, no entry to be had. It was, infact, part of the very design of the temple. To be forgotten and never found, except by those who had the most pure of intentions. To all those with a flicker of the Force, the smallest shard, they would feel the temple. But only those with no desire to gain anything but knowledge from it... they were the ones who would find it. But only the wise could learn from it.

That, however, did not decrease any of the sense of wonder, amazement and fulfilment that brushed over Azidalf's senses as he raised one of his old hands, reaching out with the invisible hand of the Force to guide the temple to open. And open the temple did, the stone splitting in the middle and sliding smoothly apart, revealing a dark doorway illuminated lightly by the dancing rays of sunlight that slipped through the gently waving leaves of the trees above.

Though, instead of proceeding into the temple, the Saint waited. He waited patiently, the smile still on his lips as he allowed the pure intentions of the Force to wash over him, cleaning and purifying him of the sins he did not hold. Speaking to him in a way that only one whose mind was truly open, their bodies relaxed and ready and their spirit resting easily and comfortably between both Light and Dark, could hear. It did not speak in a language, instead, it nudged the senses, bringing back memories, and for those that one did not hold experiences sufficient for it to convey it's meaning, it instead gave the gift of imagination.

It was through this unheard, unseen and unsmelt communication that the Force reminded Azidalf of the two companions it had directed to the same location. It was a most pleasant and reassuring to the aged man that his old friend was still as true to it's word and fair as it had ever been.

And so Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud of the Sean-Olc waited. His tall form, clothed in pale robes that hid his figure with his hair, long and silver, blowing gently in the breeze, his old eyes as bright and alert as ever. His hands clasped behind his back again. It would be a most odd and interesting sight for those who found him, for while he was not as mind-bogglingly tall as his fellow Sean-Olc, he still maintained their history of height, standing within the high six foot range.

Though, that was not mentioning his very leisurely, almost bed-like apparel. Almost as unsuited as possible for the wilderness he found himself in, but he intended to be as comfortable as possible whilst enjoying himself. Let the adventurers keep their practical leather boots and denim jeans, the Patron Saint of the Sean-Olc would take long, flowing robes of smooth, breathable silk and slippers of a warm, comfortable silk over them any day.

On that note, it was clear to Azidalf that he would not be waiting much longer, as the Force alerted him to his approaching fellows and companions for the day...
​

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Naalo-wilds-a force temple

When most people most people thought of stardust, they thought of a fire spewing lightsaber swinging mandalorian whose prowess in battle was legendary, few would dare to think that the emerald dragon was one that awed at the times of old and always strived to learn more about artifacts and temples. With all the war and turmoil in the galaxy stardust needed a break away from the it to enjoy the more calmer things the galaxy had to offer

So when the confederacy came to naalol, speaking of possible ruins stardust eagerly joined up with a small group to explore a little. The forest didn't little to stop her way as the massive armored twilek moved smoothly through it, coming upon the temple as she slowed down looking over the marble structure in awe as she made sure to snap shots of it. Glancing around she spotted one of her group members, seemed like a older man way older then even herself that looked like he belonged in a temple! Approaching stardust would bow slightly

must be my group member for this little adventure, my name is stardust solus skirae a pleasure sir

Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud Vytal Noctura

 

[Rann Thress]

P R E P A R E​

Tags: @open!!!​

Rann sat atop storage boxes observing the buzz of the Fortress around him. Several tools lie on the box at his side, and in his hands, Emerald, the lightsaber he took from a fallen KO on Geonosis, and in the other a hydrospanner. On his other side, lie his own Lightsaber. One he had previously named Topaz, but....After some recent modifications... that name didn't fit anymore. He looked at it, at the sleeker design he had imparted upon it, and went back to work on Emerald. The goal was to adapt this lightsaber more closely to his own. Not completely redesign it, but make it his own. Make it work to his advantage.

The lightsaber was taking on a life of it's own as he allowed the Force to guide his movements. It was adopting a similarly sleek appearance, but Rann was careful to keep it from changing too much. The lightsaber, after all, served two purposes. One, was to serve as his weapon. The other, as a memory. To remind himself of all those the Knights loss during the catastrophe. He finished up the work on the saber and ignited it. A vibrant, beautiful green blade shot out. Rann gave the lightsaber a swift twirl and threw it up in the air, catching it and de-igniting it. He smiled. It was good work. Work he could be proud of. He returned the lightsaber to his belt, giving it special care, and raised his eyes out to look at the Fort. He saw several military soldiers in parade formations throughout the yard, and as he looked out he couldn't help but notice... The Knights Obsidian. Or lack of them. Once, there would be at least 50? Now? Practically none. Atleast none he could see from his spot.

It was a time of "All Hands On Deck" for the Knights, so Rann had to step up. Otherwise, it wasn't likely he'd be here on the fringes of Confederate Space. Much work was left to be done elsewhere following the cataclysm with The Eye. The Valley on Rannon still wasn't completely pacified, not to mention the Temple itself which was still heavily Afflicted. However, the immediate defense of the Confederacy as a whole was much more important than his little experiment on Rannon.

He frowned and turned towards his tools, putting them away in their case and returning them to his belt. He hopped forward off the boxes and began walking towards the command buildings. It was about time for Rann to report for Orders, figure out what needed to happen and what he needed to do to bring Naalol into the fold. It was just the second step and it would certainly not be the last. This was just the beginning of a Galaxy wide maneuver to secure CIS supremacy for ten thousand years.


​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Tag: Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud | Stardust Solus Skirae
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A translucent diamond suspended over a pale palm gently rotated to point the direction toward a hidden temple. It had led into the wilds, toward the mountains, and the Nightmother had followed in with a calm stride. Responsibilities kept her from pursuing as many leads as she liked, but they could not keep her from them all. In fact, the Nightsister made it a point such would not happen.​

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Not weighed down by unnecessary gear, the red armored woman strode across the planet undaunted by what may stand in her way. As she drew nearer to her destination the ground had grown damp; in response the Witch conjured a green walkway that crept across the ground before her, and unraveled in her wake. Puddles and mud were of no concern as the watery environmental snares touched not her boots.​

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The fresh air filled with the scents of moss and other water-deprived earthen life was quite relaxing. As was the lack of 'civilization' that served to distract. Why else did the Solanaceae construct their covens, but to offer people a chance to escape the busy cities and learn the rich history, power, and purpose of the greater galaxy around them? Those with spiritual inclinations could learn to research and tap into the many wonders created over the centuries. Treasures the likes of which might be found on this world.​

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Though study and protection of artifacts was not the only reason Vytal Noctura explored the depths.​

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Vytal drew near where two others stood before a cliff face. Her green eyes regarded them as her mystic path continued to secure the ground until she came within ten feet of the pair. "The spirits are wise as ever to have foreseen you here." Her black lips curled upward for a moment. "Nightmother Vytal Noctura. We are all here to learn from the past, are we not?" For there remain much to learn. Their library had plenty of space left to chronicle all manner of powers and fundamentals of this world and the next.​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[STaCLO]

ironic

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It was a long time since the old Rust bucket known as STaCLO got involved with anything relating to the CIS. It's maybe been two or so years since the last time he did anything for the interstellar nation. It was kind of funny in his mind though. He sought out a cybernetic integration with a sentient Shard crystal in order to make himself more useful for the nation he was programmed to be loyal to. But after he officially integrated with the shard it made him far less invested in the materialistic happenings of the political world and made him set off to do his own things in the various lush environments around CIS space. Probably the most important thing he did for the CIS made him just not care about it anymore, it was... ironic

But in a nature loving self exile among the wilds of CIS space he still would check up on things every now and then. Seeing that something being dubbed the Red War was now underway. He heard the campaign on this Naalol would involve adventures into the planets own wilds. Which he honestly looked forwards to. Looking to kill two birds with one stone so to speak. Help the CIS and hang around all the plants an animals of a notably unremarkable planet.

Sadly for the cyborg it seems as if things wouldn't go that way. By the time he's arrived to the planet he was informed that many others in the CIS were looking to explore the wilds as well. And that his technical knowhow would possibly be of great use for construction of the fortress. Naturally STaCLO was a little displeased that he couldn't seem to do what he planned. But understood that he really has all the time in the galaxy to come back and venture into the planet's wilds on his own, when The Confederacy has long since moved on from Naalol.

 

[Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud]

Naalol - Wilds - A Temple to the Force
| Vytal Noctura | Stardust Solus Skirae |

Azidalf spun his torso slightly, craning his head down slightly and offering a polite nod of his head to acknowledge the first of his companion's arrival. From appearances alone, they appeared to be a rather brightly-coloured green Twi'lek, and from the armour they wore, they had come expecting battle, or found themselves most comfortable in it. It mattered not as the aged man offered a faint smile in her direction before turning to face the temple again, his bright eyes once more staring into it's depths.

"Ah, but the pleasure is all mine, m'dear. Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud, and yes, a living Saint. It is one of the many rewards of long-standing patience, patience to outlast that of others."

He offered a momentary pause, signalling the end of the topic. Though his melodious, if gruff yet kind voice filled the quiet peace of the forest.

"Though, I'd ask you to wait but a moment before proceeding any further. We should be shortly joined by our third companion. Though once they have arrived, we are more than free to proceed inside. I am unsure of the nature of how you found this, I know only that it was my Old Friend who arranged it, but we shall be the only three in attendance."

The pause that followed was neither offered nor momentary, it was a commanding silence. The Saint inclined his head down and to the side, making it very clear to the next approaching woman that he was aware of her approach, slipping one hand out of the other's grasp and raising the back of his hand to her in silent greeting.

"Truly, a fortunate circumstance to make your acquaintance, Nightmother. Provided you did not hear it already, my name is Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud, Patron Saint of the Sean-Olc. A name I judge you may have heard of? You know the current High King, at the very least, that being the... I believe the current title is... Lord Marshal? Taramaz Arcturus. I apologise if I presume too much, my Old Friend is rather... direct, shall we say, with the information he provides to me."

He lowered his hand, placing it gently around the other behind his waist once again, then lifted his head to the structure, gazing now upon the engraved markings of the stone as he conversed with his companions.

"It is, I must admit, strange to hear my Old Friend referred to in the plural, I find it much more accurate to refer to It singularly, or to place it in a group. And rather, Your Spirits, to use your name for It, have not foreseen me here as such, rather, it is They who have foreseen You here. But yes, I must agree, though, I must mention that I am here for very few physical possessions, and even the possession of intellect is something I do not so much desire, but rather expect. I have come here for the mere experience, and to serve as a guide, of sorts."

He looked up to the sky, then briefly glanced back at his companions, his smiled fading slightly, the same way that one's would when they were about to ask a question of grave importance or sensibility.

"I must, however, ask a small favour of both of you. That favour being that you allow me the privilege of first entry. I have valid reason to believe that the Temple itself is, I believe you might call it, booby-trapped. First of all, the light does not spread within the entry-way as it should, taking into consideration the canopies. Secondly, the nature of this temple is, in of itself, secretive, there are no doubt deterrents for those who stumble upon it willy-nilly. Third, of course, is that it is simply very likely, taking into account the stereotypes of all temples holding items of extreme value."

He glanced forward once more, and began a slow, casual walk forward, raising his head, his eyes shining against the light as they peered into the temple, stepping over a nest of a local-insectoid species known for the strength in comparison to body size, and then over a danger-noodle naithair, in his tongue, a snake, as it slithered across the path. It was not particularly noticeable, with it's scales of mud-brown and it's eyes of a soft gold. It was, however, particularly large, and notably long, seeming to stretch forever.

He did not hesitate at the entrance for his companions approach, and merely stepped onto the stone bricks, stepping past the slabs that had once guarded it's entrance. He made it to the very edge of where the light pierced, and took one step into darkness. The resounding thud of stone grinding against stone could be briefly heard, yet was quickly cut off by the roar of flames as they rushed out from the walls ahead of Azidalf, the flames quickly enveloping him.

The flame continued to be projected for a moment, one long enough to certainly deter all but the bravest, most desperate or those of the strongest will, as they saw their friends or companions burnt alive. However, when the flames ceased, there stood the old man who had just previously stepped inside. One balled fist was upturned, his knuckles pointing to the ground as he turned to the side, looking back at the others, and gestured with a wrinkled hand to come forward.

Around him, flame still licked against a small bubble, the embers slowly falling from it and dropping to the stone to burn out. The Saint himself, however, appeared entirely unharmed or phased. Further within the hall, one could see nothing, the light penetrating double the distance it had before, yet not enough to provide reliable light.

On all four surfaces, perfectly aligned, were flamethrowers the size of a wookiee, as grey as the stone they had emerged out of.

"Well then, now that we have that matter dealt with... shall we continue?"

He opened his palm, a spark flickering against his skin, one that quickly rose up into a flame as large as a candle and it's holder. This flame illuminated the hall in dancing orange light as the Saint turned and walked onwards. He was once again smiling. It always gave him such great joy to play with the very laws of how things were thought to function. Some called it magic, others witchcraft...

But to Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud? It was merely a trick, the use of a lesser-known aspect of what many knew as the Force, and what he called his Oldest Friend. For this such case? He used pyrokinesis and a force barrier, protecting his body from the flame and encouraging the spark to grow into a flame with pyrokinesis.

Though, perhaps that was what defined magic... doing something simply for the joy of it, to create wonder...
​

 

[The Monster]

Location: Fort Callat
Equipment: RA2-Series Power Armor - (U/A/S), TDW-HARM, L-7
Time: 0900
Objective: Build a fort!
Tag: Rann Thress , Open​

Sergei had arrived on world in one of the first waves, assisting the Confederacy secure their LZ but for the first time in a long time, Sergei hadn't been called in to destroy. Instead he and his were called to build. The fortress was indeed a mad house right now with all of the construction happening. The Civil Ops personnel were running to and fro, shouting, all working like possessed ants in a Hive. Droids were assisting builders by picking things up and holding them in place. TCD-2s were hauling heavy loads from one place to another. Sergei himself was among them, his black and red armor shining brightly in the sun.

He was helping a group of men and women pull up a wall to weld it onto supports, the heavy durasteel and doonium alloy making it a chore even in his armor. The collective grunts and yells from the men as they lifted it into place using raw manpower, ropes, and machines spoke of their determination. Not a second after they had lifted the wall into place, did the welding crews immediately move in and start to weld the wall into place. Bright arcs of electricity and plasma would spot weld the wall in place as they worked. Sergei would take a few steps back as he watched, and ensured that the rest of the wall was coming up nicely. The prebuilt habitations that they'd been able to drop in were nice, but Sergei knew most people would prefer more.... permanent accommodations here. Which for someone as spartan as him, seemed a little bit too luxurious for his taste, but he was getting paid. Sergei would continue working, going from place to place as he assisted in whatever he could. Lift this, hold that, fly something up to someone. Sergei was trying to keep up as he looked throughout the new fortress being built. Of the many Confederates here, Sergei's Dire Wolves were not only holding their own, they were certainly most efficient and highly industrious. The Civilian Operations was designed to work alone on worlds, with little to no support with security provided by their own personnel. They had experience working in the harshest of environments, doing all sorts of work. And here not only did they have all the support they could ever need, the entire weight of the Confederacy was behind them. Using the near limitless resources, manpower, droidpower, and heavy lifting capabilities, the Civilian Operations was certainly excelling the standard.

Sergei paused as he settled down on a rampart that had been finished, looking over everything. His weren't the only ones here, but a lot them were. It felt.... surreal. He had started a private mercenary company that had originally been him, and then four others.

And then more.

Sergei's company had grown much faster than anticipated. Their creed, their lucrative wages, and most of all, the culture he'd bred was so enticing, so intoxicating to most that they never wanted to leave. He had a hard time believing that so many had answered the call of The Wolves. A galactic force for good, for people to have something to hope for. He would tap a button on his helmet pulling up the face shield so he could actually see it with his own eyes. The sight was no less impressive up close, but even so Sergei was enamored with the sight. Sergei was about to step off when a comms message buzzed in his ear.

"Boss, got a message from higher. They want you at the Cee-Pee ASAP,"

"Roger,"

Sergei would leap into the air with a boost from his Luft jet pack, and would rocket towards the command post with a quick pace. He was coming in for his landing when he decided to test the structural integrity of the floor outside the main command center. He cut his thrusters and used his repuslors to maneuver his feet below him, and then hit the ground with a loud metallic thud. His body would reverberate with the impact, but unsurprisingly the Durasteel floor held. Sergei took a second for his body to recover before looking himself and the suit over. No noticeable damage, and surprisingly the suit was working perfectly fine. This technology amazed Sergei, as he could only think what his countrymen back home could have done with such power. His inspection and day dreaming however were interrupted by his radar picking up someone approaching, causing him to turn abruptly to see who it was. He would squint as he looked over and saw.... Rann? It had been some time. Boy looked like he'd picked up some miles from his last encounter. Sergei would awkwardly wave in the suit before plodding over to the door and opening it.

"Morning! Been a minute hasn't it?"

The command team was awaiting inside for them.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud Vytal Noctura
Azidalf she had never met now heard of, yet she smiled and remember his name as she bowed her head, another began to approach as stardust merely turned her head to see someone she had heard of in passing and turned fully soon as she bowed letting the saint speak and then spoke herself

ahhhhhh nightmother vital it is truly a honor to meet you, I and stardust solus skirae emerald dragon of clan solus

She had many many questions for the nightmother that she'd ask in due time. Turning to the saint she listened and raised a brow as she looked to the entrance and did note the entrance inside was indeed quite difficult to see, when he offered to go first she really raised that brow but didn't protest. Watching him move forward she jumped at the sudden woosh of flames that enveloped his form, moving forward to help him she raised a hand but found the fore dying down and him standing there untouched, blinking she noticed the barrier formed and his hand balled up as she realized what he was doing as she chuckled and shook her head a little

I've not met someone as skilled in pyrokinesis in so long...amazing

She followed to his side, forming a ball of flame in her hand to help light the way as she looked around

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Tag: Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud | Stardust Solus Skirae
​

"A pleasure to meet you, Emerald Dragon of Clan Solus," Vytal replied with a slight nod. A lovely shade of green, but then the Nightmother was partial to it as the Nether seemed to be. Stardust seemed a capable woman whom might be interesting to know along the way as well as their resident Saint.​

​

The Nightmother's gaze rested on the man as he addressed her. Subtle currents of energy rippled in the green rings of her eyes, which may have brightened at the declaration of the famed High King -- Lord Marshal Taramaz Arcturus. "I know him. Though I would rather speak of you, as our time allows -- someone interested in studying the world rather than conquering it." Whether the Saint chose to ply his talents toward another's ambitions was his business, but from what Vytal knew so far he himself was not leading any charges toward dominating the masses or secreting away knowledge that would be better shared.​

​

The Saint spoke of the spirits as something he often addressed directly as a collective, which the Nightsister found interesting. It was possible to do in a sense. The Jedi and Sith, for their part, did so as well -- if poorly. Could a person not hear a song sung clearly by a choir? It mattered not how many spoke, only that their message was clear. Spirits were unique in that their differing voices could be taken as a range of voical types brought together forming a coherent melody unlike any one member.​

​

With little ado, the man then asked them a 'favor.' Vytal managed a small smile at his humble and presumptive request. "If you desire to enter first," the Witch replied with a gesture of her open hand toward the entrance. There could be an underlying reason he had not made clear. A paranoid sort might think them racing toward riches hoping to get there first. The Nightmother, however, had no such anxieties nor belief that a few mere seconds would keep her from what might be learned this day.​

​

As the Saint progressed, the Witch paused to crouch down and examine the life from a respectful distance. With a slow passing of her hand in the air, Vytal sought to explore the surrounding land by other means. Until the unmistakable rush of flame drew her bright gaze upward.​

​

Invited to join him, the pale woman stood up and advanced without comment. Surprise? Why should she be surprised? The man had either been a fool, or confident in his own abilities; and Vytal had given him the benefit of the doubt earlier. It was pleasing to see the galaxy was not that poorly designed, and that she might have pleasing company in this venture.​

​

"We shall. I have always enjoyed venturing into the ancient places of the galaxy. The less disturbed by vandals the better. I take it you both agree?" Vytal didn't ignite her own light source. Rather she activated an internal power to deal with dim or lost lighting conditions when the others grew distant or were absent. As they slowly stepped forth together, the Nightmother was curious what had brought them here. The Saint had already suggested it was the mere experience and a little expectation of education by matter of being that motivated; but she'd leave it open should he deign to elaborate further. "I sense this place possess a will of its own, and trust it will be made manifest to us as we explore further."​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Pravus Cruento]

Mic Gallagher was less than impressive.
So he looked like he could handle a fight or two. He knew how to fly. He had an arrogant charm about him that he was pretty sure Aela found irresistible. He even smelt charming; if charm had a scent it would be called Mic.

Prav had rolled his eyes damn-near everytime the pirate had spoken that last hour during the final approach. Mic’s obnoxiously slack-Scarifan accent was graining on his Deep Core sensibilities and he tried to breath evenly, tried to keep calm. It was working: just about.

He’d been told by Aela to dress ‘appropriately’. For what? A rustic trail? Mountain climbing? Treasure hunting? This was no holo-film adventure. He hummed some ubiquitous music, imagining for a moment he was on the trail of some smugglers. He forgot that he even had a real blaster for a moment.

He watched Aela for a few moments. He was starting to like the familiarity of her company and it has certainly been a harrowing few months. She was certainly a friend and he’d hoped to keep her around; for as long as she wanted to, that was.

He called out to Mic.

‘Have you any idea of what we’re actually here for?!’

Aela Wren Mic Gallagher

 

[Aela Wren]

He had a screw loose.

Mic Gallagher was pressing her buttons in every way he could. The schoolboy-grin? She was going to wipe that from his face. One lost puppy was bad enough. Although said lost puppy was starting to grow on her. Pravus was also clearly not impressed with this.....wannabe-Weequay. She had taught him well - puppy was learning quickly.

What irked her the most was that the pirate thought he could fly. Not on her watch. So she unceremoniously kicked him out of his pilot chair and took over. She had no idea what was the directive given to Pravus about this expedition, but she did know where they were going. And she had heard of this place before. Numerous scum in the past had spoken of Naalol and the treasures rumoured to be hidden in the Wilds. What she did not understand is why they had to go with Mr. Blabbermouth in his excuse for a ship.

The tension in the ship was starting to get under her skin. Luckily they reached their destination just in time or she would have banged both boys' heads together before locking them in the hold.

On the ground, Pravus asked Mic if he even knew what they were here for. She suppressed rolling her eyes.
"Of course he doesn't. The Moof-milker can't even tell a Bantha from a Fathier. Now, if you two are quite done banging on your chests, can we get moving?" she sneered, pulling a blaster and stalking into the Wilds.

Mic Gallagher Pravus Cruento

 

[Rann Thress]

O R D E R S​

Tags: The Monster , Open!​

​

Rann could recognize that massive frame almost anywhere.​

​

"Sergei? Fancy seeing you here." Rann smiled as he approached the building and Sergei.​

​

"It's felt like years. Hell, it's felt like every day has lasted years." he said as he took the opportunity to enter the door that Sergei had opened, and took his place in the room.​

​

"Rann Thress, Obsidian Knight. Are we waiting on anyone else?" He asked the group, "I'd rather not wait. We can catch anyone up to speed later." ​

​

He looked at the holographic table that sat in the middle of the room. It projected the plans for Fort Callat. The actual build was very far from what the end goal was to be. This was to be the stronghold for their expansion. A small city dedicated to conquering the South-East quadrant of the Galaxy.​

​

"I see what the Vicelord is intending for this fortress. I know what needs to happen. But, for the life of me, I can't see why KO presence is requested. Our best days are behind us, and my being here is a symbolic gesture at best." He crossed his arms and locked eyes with everyone in the room. "That being said, if there's anything I can do to help, I will."​

​

One of the commanders looked at Rann, and looked down at his datapad.​

​

"Well....Lord Thress." he paused and looked up at Rann, before raising his eyebrows and returning to the datapad. "It is the opinion of this operation that he moves fastest who moves alone. And while in ideal conditions we'd have more KO, regular soldiers or even Battledroids instead of someone with your.....pedigree." ​

​

Somewhere else in the room, a poor attempt at hiding a chuckle. Rann scanned the room looking for the source before sighing and returning his attention to his orders.​

​

"We make due with the resources we have. So, here we are. Your orders are quite simple."​

​

He tapped on his datapad and the holographic image zoomed in to a section of the fort, and the image melted away from the projected completed work to what it looked like now. Forest and rock.​

​

"This area is the first proposed expansion of your father's project. As such, it needs to be cleared of any obstructions or potential enemy combatants. Not that we're expecting anything, but you never know." He looked again at Rann.​

​

And Rann stared back. "So you're asking me to go pull security."​

​

"No, Lord Thress, we're ordering you."​

​

He clenched his jaw. ​

You could just kill them all. Father'd understand.​

Accurate. Still not the right thing to do. So shut up.​

​

This job was beneath him, but.... it was better then manual labor. Even if it was a waste of time.​

​

"If it helps there might be lions and tigers and bears in those woods."​

Rann sneered. Whatever.​

​

"So go there, clear it out, and provide security for the build teams."​

​

Rann nodded. One day. I'll kill that man.​

​

​

​

​

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

The Wilds
Direct Tag: Gerwald Lechner | Meili Feng
Nearby: Mic Gallagher | Abel Denko | Teyla Sal-Soren | Aela Wren | Pravus Cruento | Vytal Noctura | Stardust Solus Skirae | Saint Azidalf Elde'gaud
_____________________________​

It was dark.

From the depths of the torrid domain in which she dwelled, she could see nothing. The tinkling sound of glass shards rushing through the atmosphere had long since become white noise. It was all she could hear. Not the growls of the beasts that sought to devour her from within, nor the shrieks of the souls that were damned to this demonic hellscape. Naedira couldn’t hear them die. She couldn’t see their suffering. But, she felt them expire. Felt them become nothing.

She shielded herself from them the only way she knew how. The Force was always with her. She couldn’t touch it and manipulate it as she had when the life of a Knight Obsidian had been her calling. The connection had been severed. Yet, it was still there. Whispering little things. Words that she didn’t know how to speak. How to hear. It developed in flashes of color and light that mercifully brought some slight amount of flavor to an otherwise miserable existence. It broke the shadow—Erased eternal black. Lifted the clouds. It gave her the strength to keep what was left of her mind.

It was shattered. She knew that to be true.

The fact that she couldn’t remember her childhood. She couldn’t remember her parents, though, she knew that she must have had them. Her heartfelt heavy with the knowledge that the life she had led prior to this one had all but died. Naedira Darcrath—Despite existing in the Nether—Was dead. Gone. Everything she had ever been was lost. Forgotten.

She was ancient history. A footnote, in the History of Confederate losses.

The darkness was eternal and complete, yet, as she breathed out of habit, she saw through the eyes of the one that held her tether. Her heart stopped cold. Why? How was this happening? When she slid through the cracks in reality and appeared to those that she had once known it was never like this. She never saw through their eyes. It brought a sense of dread. Was the tether weakening?

Would she be locked alone here? Trapped? Hunted?

Forever? ​

The panic began to ebb whilst watching a forest rise up around her. She could smell the ruddy earth beneath leaves and foliage. Taste, chlorophyll. Twigs snapped and leaves were crushed beneath many feet. They were separated. Distant, and scattered. One pair approached a cave and her throat suddenly felt dry. She did not eat. Did not drink—Yet she suddenly craved water.

Something. Anything, to cool that predaceous fire.

A wolf howl caused her heart to stop.

She could feel them.

If she could feel them—So could they.

‘Stop. Don’t come any closer. Turn around, turn away, and forget you ever saw this place.’​

It didn’t seem that they could hear her. The wolf and his little fox.

Her eyes closed and she drew the deepest breath she could. The shout that ripped from her lungs would alert her jailers of her presence. They would find her. She knew it. But they didn’t know. They couldn’t know.