Nathan Bloodscrawl
House Bloodscrawl Patriarch
Wearing: Interceptor Gear
Armed With: Nathan's Jedi Lightsaber, Sword of Cinndurr
Arrived in: Gullwing-Class Starfighter
Deployed from: Sarka Class Frigate (Smile of Erskine)
With:
Meleena Bloodscrawl
Meleena's Equipment
Armorweave Catsuit (Reflective Gold)
Bacta-Works Capture Pistol
Planet: Niruauan (New Carannia)
Objective: Speak with Michael...develop insight into new fighting style with Michael's help/ learn more about Laertia
Earlier...
Venture-Class Star Galleon (Atrisian Pathfinder)
Nathan had gone into the chamber where it had been kept ever since he had found it.
He felt himself battling a terror he had rarely known. The terror of the unexpected.
Every instinct told him he should have turned it over the instant he located it to someone like
Kahlil Noble
. He would have even been tempted to turn it over to
Valery Noble
despite his current disagreements with her.
But the truth was...he couldn't...
He...he wanted this piece of her. Needed this piece of her.
Something that still had traces of the Light. It might be the closest he'd ever get to speaking to the actual Laertia, before the Cult ate her alive.
He stared at the Holocron in its bare chamber, isolated from the other ones he had been collecting.
The Holocron of Blades shimmered in the low light, giving off a feeling of innate wrongness in spite of its Light Side signature. It's Pyramid shape had been one he had been taught from youth to be instinctively wary of.
But morbid curiosity compelled him ever closer to it.
His hand reached out...and touched the top of it.
The Holocron flashed blue for a second and a full 3D, life sized image of
Laertia Io
in her spiky black biker gear appeared, her pale face still scarred, her eyes bearing the taint of the Light Sith 's teaching...her eyes were a shiny bronze, and her irises were a dark green.
Jedi Colors Nathan noted.
"Ah...a Maverick!" The Gatekeeper said pacing around the Holocron. "You feel... interesting...not at all like a proper Jedi, but just close enough that I bet your buddies don't raise much fuss over it. I have the honor of addressing --?"
"Nathan Bloodscrawl..." Nathan answered, not sure how much his daughter had known about him. This device had been created way before his resurrection.
"A pleasure, Nathan Bloodscrawl, I'm Darth Xiphos..." The Gatekeeper answered, seemingly non-plussed.
"Do you know who I am?" Nathan asked, hiding how emotional he was at seeing her before she gave into the Cult.
The Gatekeeper looked at him, frowned.
"No, can't say that I do." The Gatekeeper replied. "Does my creator know you?"
"You could say that..." he replied quickly.
The Gatekeeper leaned forward, arms folded behind its back.
"So, Mister Bloodscrawl, how can I help you this fine day?" She asked.
"Why...why a Light Sith?" he asked.
The Gatekeeper shrugged. "Why not? It's not as if the Jedi own the Light Side. My creator was growing weary of their philosophy even before she finally rebelled. And I sense a weariness just like my creator's within you."
Nathan's heart skipped a beat.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"You're halfway there, my friend. It would only take a few nudges more to push you into my camp." She said. "You would make an excellent Marauder of the Light Side. Hell...you might even be Bright Lord material, like Darth Themis..."
"I'm nothing like you..." he asserted.
"That's the same thing my creator said to Themis. Tell you what...I see such potential in you...I'll give you a free lesson...on the House. No strings attached." The Gatekeeper offered.
Nathan thought a moment...
"How do I defeat that which loves war and bloodshed?" he asked.
"Oooo, a genuinely good one!" The Gatekeeper gushed. "In yourself, or in another?"
"Another." He replied.
"You don't. Defeating such a thing in yourself is relatively simple. You simply have to put down the weapon, realize the weapon is bad for you, and walk away. In another, your best bet is to use that love against them and position them in such a way that their love of battle will destroy them."
"Why didn't you use that for Erskine Barran?" Nathan asked.
"I respected him too much. Besides, war was not his sole love. He was defending something. Fighting for what he believed in. Tavlar? That other guy, the Iron Masked motherfether? Ego. Bruised Ego. Ryv Karis? Past grudges with the Sith. Erskine was the only proper warrior in the NIO. He taught my children much. In some ways...you could say he was their father...were I not already Xiphos, I would have wished to be him." The Gatekeeper asserted. "Practically carried the NIO on his back in a ground conflict..."
"I seek to defeat one of his relatives, a man who loves war. Breathes it. But I don't love war. I never did."
"The cunning warrior attacks neither body, nor mind." The Gatekeeper cautioned.
"Then what?" Nathan asked.
"The heart. First, we attack his heart..." The Gatekeeper answered.
(Cutaway of the Green Goblin dropping Mary Jane from the top of the bridge)
"And how would I do that?" Nathan asked.
"Speak to one who knows it..." The Gatekeeper answered. "I will await you eagerly should you seek further counsel..."
The Gatekeeper vanished.
Nathan left the chamber and collapsed to his knees, suffering a massive panic attack.
Present
"I do not know if this is wise, my dear brother..." Meleena Bloodscrawl, coded to be Nathan's 'Older' Sister said as she played the Piano in her private quarters while Nathan listened, looking at a holoprojector displaying the image of
Michael Barran
on a coffee table.
"Nothing says Michael will be in any way hospitable to your presence. And this is not friendly territory we are heading towards. There are real risks in coming here, Nathan. I can only protect you so much. Not just from them...but from yourself..." she added.
"It's a risk we have to take. Thomas Barran must be removed from the board...he's too effective a commander to be left in play. I need an insight in how to defeat him. That insight can come only from a relative..." Nathan said as their vessel entered the system.
Meleena stood up as she stopped playing.
"The Barran's are cunning and dangerous. Do not grow so obsessed with gaining insight into Thomas that you give Michael too much insight into you..." she warned as the ship comm announced they were in system.
"I'll be in the hangar..." She said, departing her quarters.
Nathan sat up from the sofa, stared at the oil portraits he had been painting. One was of
Caltin Vanagor
in full gear...and the other was of
Connel Vanagor
, carrying his father's body through the ruins of Coruscant. It had been based on eyewitness reports.
Nathan stared at the portrait of Caltin that he had painted himself.
He felt a deep remorse and sadness that he couldn't explain rationally as he stared.
"You were the one who said I should have been knighted years ago..." Nathan said to the portrait. "I...I want to be at least somewhat worthy of that belief...but this war...it killed even you in the opening battle. What shall I have to do, to see the other end?"
He grimaced.
"It wasn't really the Sith who killed you, you know...it was the incompetent morons running the show that let the Sith grow in strength. You died over their stupidity."
Nathan turned, opening a Box containing a terrible, legendary weapon that had become Laertia's signature blade, in both her war against the Bryn'adul, as well as her war with the GA, NJO, and NIO.
Something that, if this Michael were a student of history as he suspected, might well be the only way to convince him Nathan wasn't some con man, but her actual father.
The Sword of Cinndurr.
The Crossguard with seemingly burnt edges around the emitters hummed invisibly in the Force with terrible strength and power. So much that it actually frightened him, having to carry the damn thing. This was why he didn't trust "Freak" Blades, even though it was one of the most powerful lightsabers he had ever personally come across.
He clipped the blade that scared him to his belt and headed for the Hangar. As he headed out he stopped by another portrait he had recently painted...one of
Braze
"Where are you, my friend?" Nathan asked, vowing to track him down and get him help.
"I will undo the perversion wroght upon you, Braze..." he vowed before leaving.
The Gull-Wing Fighter was an unusual little vessel, and Nathan thought it highly bizarre...but also highly useful as he piloted to the planet's surface, requesting permission to land...
Armed With: Nathan's Jedi Lightsaber, Sword of Cinndurr
Arrived in: Gullwing-Class Starfighter
Deployed from: Sarka Class Frigate (Smile of Erskine)
With:
Meleena Bloodscrawl
Meleena's Equipment
Armorweave Catsuit (Reflective Gold)
Bacta-Works Capture Pistol
Planet: Niruauan (New Carannia)
Objective: Speak with Michael...develop insight into new fighting style with Michael's help/ learn more about Laertia
Earlier...
Venture-Class Star Galleon (Atrisian Pathfinder)
Nathan had gone into the chamber where it had been kept ever since he had found it.
He felt himself battling a terror he had rarely known. The terror of the unexpected.
Every instinct told him he should have turned it over the instant he located it to someone like
Kahlil Noble
. He would have even been tempted to turn it over to
Valery Noble
despite his current disagreements with her.But the truth was...he couldn't...
He...he wanted this piece of her. Needed this piece of her.
Something that still had traces of the Light. It might be the closest he'd ever get to speaking to the actual Laertia, before the Cult ate her alive.
He stared at the Holocron in its bare chamber, isolated from the other ones he had been collecting.
The Holocron of Blades shimmered in the low light, giving off a feeling of innate wrongness in spite of its Light Side signature. It's Pyramid shape had been one he had been taught from youth to be instinctively wary of.
But morbid curiosity compelled him ever closer to it.
His hand reached out...and touched the top of it.
The Holocron flashed blue for a second and a full 3D, life sized image of
Laertia Io
in her spiky black biker gear appeared, her pale face still scarred, her eyes bearing the taint of the Light Sith 's teaching...her eyes were a shiny bronze, and her irises were a dark green.Jedi Colors Nathan noted.
"Ah...a Maverick!" The Gatekeeper said pacing around the Holocron. "You feel... interesting...not at all like a proper Jedi, but just close enough that I bet your buddies don't raise much fuss over it. I have the honor of addressing --?"
"Nathan Bloodscrawl..." Nathan answered, not sure how much his daughter had known about him. This device had been created way before his resurrection.
"A pleasure, Nathan Bloodscrawl, I'm Darth Xiphos..." The Gatekeeper answered, seemingly non-plussed.
"Do you know who I am?" Nathan asked, hiding how emotional he was at seeing her before she gave into the Cult.
The Gatekeeper looked at him, frowned.
"No, can't say that I do." The Gatekeeper replied. "Does my creator know you?"
"You could say that..." he replied quickly.
The Gatekeeper leaned forward, arms folded behind its back.
"So, Mister Bloodscrawl, how can I help you this fine day?" She asked.
"Why...why a Light Sith?" he asked.
The Gatekeeper shrugged. "Why not? It's not as if the Jedi own the Light Side. My creator was growing weary of their philosophy even before she finally rebelled. And I sense a weariness just like my creator's within you."
Nathan's heart skipped a beat.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"You're halfway there, my friend. It would only take a few nudges more to push you into my camp." She said. "You would make an excellent Marauder of the Light Side. Hell...you might even be Bright Lord material, like Darth Themis..."
"I'm nothing like you..." he asserted.
"That's the same thing my creator said to Themis. Tell you what...I see such potential in you...I'll give you a free lesson...on the House. No strings attached." The Gatekeeper offered.
Nathan thought a moment...
"How do I defeat that which loves war and bloodshed?" he asked.
"Oooo, a genuinely good one!" The Gatekeeper gushed. "In yourself, or in another?"
"Another." He replied.
"You don't. Defeating such a thing in yourself is relatively simple. You simply have to put down the weapon, realize the weapon is bad for you, and walk away. In another, your best bet is to use that love against them and position them in such a way that their love of battle will destroy them."
"Why didn't you use that for Erskine Barran?" Nathan asked.
"I respected him too much. Besides, war was not his sole love. He was defending something. Fighting for what he believed in. Tavlar? That other guy, the Iron Masked motherfether? Ego. Bruised Ego. Ryv Karis? Past grudges with the Sith. Erskine was the only proper warrior in the NIO. He taught my children much. In some ways...you could say he was their father...were I not already Xiphos, I would have wished to be him." The Gatekeeper asserted. "Practically carried the NIO on his back in a ground conflict..."
"I seek to defeat one of his relatives, a man who loves war. Breathes it. But I don't love war. I never did."
"The cunning warrior attacks neither body, nor mind." The Gatekeeper cautioned.
"Then what?" Nathan asked.
"The heart. First, we attack his heart..." The Gatekeeper answered.
(Cutaway of the Green Goblin dropping Mary Jane from the top of the bridge)
"And how would I do that?" Nathan asked.
"Speak to one who knows it..." The Gatekeeper answered. "I will await you eagerly should you seek further counsel..."
The Gatekeeper vanished.
Nathan left the chamber and collapsed to his knees, suffering a massive panic attack.
Present
"I do not know if this is wise, my dear brother..." Meleena Bloodscrawl, coded to be Nathan's 'Older' Sister said as she played the Piano in her private quarters while Nathan listened, looking at a holoprojector displaying the image of
Michael Barran
on a coffee table."Nothing says Michael will be in any way hospitable to your presence. And this is not friendly territory we are heading towards. There are real risks in coming here, Nathan. I can only protect you so much. Not just from them...but from yourself..." she added.
"It's a risk we have to take. Thomas Barran must be removed from the board...he's too effective a commander to be left in play. I need an insight in how to defeat him. That insight can come only from a relative..." Nathan said as their vessel entered the system.
Meleena stood up as she stopped playing.
"The Barran's are cunning and dangerous. Do not grow so obsessed with gaining insight into Thomas that you give Michael too much insight into you..." she warned as the ship comm announced they were in system.
"I'll be in the hangar..." She said, departing her quarters.
Nathan sat up from the sofa, stared at the oil portraits he had been painting. One was of
Caltin Vanagor
in full gear...and the other was of
Connel Vanagor
, carrying his father's body through the ruins of Coruscant. It had been based on eyewitness reports.Nathan stared at the portrait of Caltin that he had painted himself.
He felt a deep remorse and sadness that he couldn't explain rationally as he stared.
"You were the one who said I should have been knighted years ago..." Nathan said to the portrait. "I...I want to be at least somewhat worthy of that belief...but this war...it killed even you in the opening battle. What shall I have to do, to see the other end?"
He grimaced.
"It wasn't really the Sith who killed you, you know...it was the incompetent morons running the show that let the Sith grow in strength. You died over their stupidity."
Nathan turned, opening a Box containing a terrible, legendary weapon that had become Laertia's signature blade, in both her war against the Bryn'adul, as well as her war with the GA, NJO, and NIO.
Something that, if this Michael were a student of history as he suspected, might well be the only way to convince him Nathan wasn't some con man, but her actual father.
The Sword of Cinndurr.
The Crossguard with seemingly burnt edges around the emitters hummed invisibly in the Force with terrible strength and power. So much that it actually frightened him, having to carry the damn thing. This was why he didn't trust "Freak" Blades, even though it was one of the most powerful lightsabers he had ever personally come across.
He clipped the blade that scared him to his belt and headed for the Hangar. As he headed out he stopped by another portrait he had recently painted...one of
Braze
"Where are you, my friend?" Nathan asked, vowing to track him down and get him help.
"I will undo the perversion wroght upon you, Braze..." he vowed before leaving.
The Gull-Wing Fighter was an unusual little vessel, and Nathan thought it highly bizarre...but also highly useful as he piloted to the planet's surface, requesting permission to land...
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