Faction Dark Horizon [DE]

[Nal'Khem Szat]

Darth Apophion , Maestus , Vazz , Ossuaria

The attack began in earnest, and all the Lord of Whispers could do was revel in the sorrowful cries of those that knew they were about to die. The fear of mortality was certainly a strong fear, but to those who had yet to tread where he had, the one true fear was left far from their minds. For, despite the finality of death, Nal'Khem had come to understand that the deepest fear is the fear of the unknown, and within that great vastness of uncertainty, he had truly found unending peace.

As his troops neared the gaps in the wall, his mind reached out to them, calling forth through the deep vastness of the empyrean.

These Veilbearers are abominations, but may be useful. Take them alive, if you can...

The command needed no reply, and his cultists went about their bloody work, tearing through whatever Ashlan forces they may come across in hope of capturing their prey.

Yes... death would be too good for these crusaders. Death was final. Death was infinite. Death was useless...

Their remained a path beyond death... beyond Ashla... beyond the very stars themselves. A path that was riddled with uncertainty... with mystery... with the unknown...

It was that path that the Lord of Whispers had long-walked, and it was that same path that he would take these would-be champions of the light into the very heart of, whether they wished it or not.​

 

[Maestus]

Corbos
Pietro Demici
Onrai

She bit back the snickering that was building within. The Good Cardinal still had his spirit, and wits, about him. This pleased her. She always preferred to deal with people who were capable, mentally, of engaging in intelligent discourse. A glance down, and she fastened the stolen saber to her belt. If Maestus took any offense, or even any notice, of the lack of a title in Pietro's greeting, there was no reaction or response. When she looked up again, she focused on the strange woman in the room. The Cardinal's paramour, perhaps?

Am I interrupting? I couldn't help but overhear something about going on a trip?

She looked Onrai over carefully. She noted the purity of the robes the female wore, curious about the bits she'd overheard. She was in no hurry to deliver Pietro to his doom. Especially if prolonging his execution garnered her new knowledge.

She began to move about the room. No pattern or discernible direction. She held herself in a non-threatening posture. Hands clasped loosely at the small of her back as she strolled the room.​

 

[Onrai]

Darth Apophion

"Wraith? Spectre? Are you truly so delusional as to believe me some figment of a dead woman who no longer matters in this world?" Onrai was, if nothing else, particularly insulted that a Sith she had never encountered before, one whose accomplishments in the galaxy were but a crepuscule compared to her own, suggested she was in some form an inferior to his mortally limited coil. As Onrai exited the tent in question, its roof supports would splinter, and the synthetic cloth of its hide collapsed, burying whatever had been stored inside beneath it.

"Let us see where this leads you." The incarnation of Onrai that was present with Apophion followed at a distance as he proceeded through the battle. When anyone foolish enough to take a shot or swing at her form did so, her response was swift, the Ooradrylian powers of siphoning their life force quick to bring them to an end and further rejuvenate the expenditure of energy. To be present in multiple places at once was not the easiest thing with a mind that had at one time been limited to the issue of singular presences, but she had grown more used to it, to acting as more than one.

Upon the arrival of the Ashlan champion, Onrai merely stood and watched as the battle took fold. When the opportunity came for them to fight directly, she gave a barely visible smile.

"Go on. Do it."

-

Pietro Demici Maestus

"You know, elderly mortal, I'm getting particularly tired of your accusations." Onrai said, her mimicry of the original Onrai as cross as the other. "Demon? You haven't the faintest idea what a demon looks like. You know nothing of Ooradryl, of Waru, of Uthoqquan. You have never had your essence nipped at by the Wizards of the Night Spirit or stood amongst the shards of the Left Handed God. You have never stood face to face with the one-that-lives-and-dies as he dies living, with Kopa Kahn himself, or clashed with the kin of the Father of Shadows after their attempt to pollute your creations, body and soul. You haven't even clashed with the necrotic ooze of Mekal, the Cancer God whose homeworld has been purged of his malignancy."

She stood before him, utterly convicted and righteous in her beliefs. That this man had the audacity to proclaim her of the kin of Nakhash infuriated her, especially when she had lost one of her dearest friends to the perverted Celestials and had gained only a parasite in her place.

"And you know nothing of Bogan. But you're going to find out. Everything you think you know, of Light, of Dark, of what is right and wrong in this universe, will be tested. You will survive - if not by your own hand, then by mine. And if you still reject the truth, then I will give you to the one who seeks your head and your life will end."

The rift, which had sealed itself after the emergence of Onrai's form, flared open as her left hand raised the Sunstar-Shadowstone once more, her focii and tool to tear open the boundaries between realspace and otherspace put once more to use. With her other hand, she sought to grasp the aged man and drag him, kicking and screaming if need be, into her plane. Were not one hand enough, energetic yet very physical tendrils began to emerge from the tear, seeking to grasp the cardinal and secure him in her embrace.

As the struggle to claim custody of the Ashlan religious leader began, Onrai's head turned unnaturally to eye Maestus. "The curiosity in you intrigues me, Maestus. Yes, I know of you, and we have shared space and battlefields before. Come, join us in the plane of Dark Illathurion and learn more to the truth of the universe than any tome will speak of. Perhaps you may accept more than our mutual acquaintance."

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

The Light of Ashla | Champion and Avatar of Ashla

Information

Objective: Protect the last Outpost
Location: Ground, Corbos
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Darth Apophion | Vazz | Ossuaria | Maestus | Nal'Khem Szat | Pietro Demici | Arminius Kroeger | Merion Oreno | Darth Howl | Open
Direct tag: Darth Vinaze

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Eina never asked for the love and admiration of the mortals, the living. She felt uncomfortable even when she was considered a Living Saint because of what she did. But it wasn't the humans that made her look angelic, or the living that made her Force abilities change from the old blue to gold. It was just one person. Geiseric. Instinctively, because she felt right. Although Eina had always considered herself as a woman, she was physically neutral and had no physical desires, for example. As such, she was neutral, asexual, like the rest of her species. Her husband had changed that; but she knew that it was not love, not attachment, that Vinaze had in mind.

Although she didn't really understand human behaviour and thinking, she knew souls. And often the soul spoke a very different language from what the living person said. That's what bothered her so much; that's why it was difficult for her to understand mortals. But the former Valkyrja thought she knew the answer to Vinaze's question. Ever since she'd been among mortals, she'd found that there was only one emotion that could keep people in the light or plunge them into total darkness…

"Hope." she said softly, although the word echoed in the Force long enough for him to hear it perfectly.

As she said the word, suddenly there was some kind of disturbance in the Force, which somehow disturbed her concentration or even amplified Vinaze's ritual. She couldn't tell at the moment, as Eina's channelled Force Ability was momentarily interrupted, allowing the man's attack to easily hit her. The tentacles in the Force slammed into the woman's chest and upper body with tremendous force, pushing her backwards with a powerful thrust. Eina flew backwards for metres and was stopped by the wall, which she slammed into hard. Because of the armour on her and the fact that the corridor was no longer in very good condition, part of the stone and metal corridor collapsed and pieces of it fell on her.

The spear fell from the hand of the woman, who had become immaterial for a few moments, and so emerged from the ruins, where she regained her physical form. For the time being, the woman was still propped up on two knees and two hands on the ground, while she held the spear with one hand and struggled to rise from the ground…

 

[Pietro Demici]

Darth Apophion , Maestus , Vazz , Onrai

The Last Stand

The One Behind The Veil

The Sith stood before him, blasphemy spewing from his heretical mouth. It was almost enough to make The One physically ill, though he would remain as still as a stone, his lightsaber pike in hand as he stared the man down.

"Arrogance... such is to be expected from the likes of the Sith."

His grip tightened around his weapon, his feet digging into the ground beneath his feet.

"Whatever darkness you may claim to bring this galaxy into, you can never extinguish Ashla's light. Even if you win the day, it will only be a fleeting victory."

There was no more time to speak, for the Sith lunged at him with a great and terrible fury, striking for what seemed to be The One's left arm. In a swift motion, he attempted to parry the blade with the back of his lightsaber pike, only to find the attack to be a feint. The heat of the Sith's blade drew close to the Crusader's neck, prompting him to swing his body low, taking to the ground as he rolled forward, the heretic's blade cutting through a chunk of The One's cape. His body spun around as he rose, his lightsaber pike lashing out in a horizontal slash, hoping to find purchase against his opponent's upper leg.

In the distance, the deaths of his Ashlan comrades could be heard, their cries of agony calling out through the empyrean. His heart sank, but he could not falter...

Not now...

Pietro Demici: Cardinal of Ashla

The words from the strange entity were certainly foreboding, though Pietro would refuse to yield, despite his own physical state. His hand tightened around his holy blade, his eyes darting back and forth between his opponents as he held his guard.

"You speak of putridity and filth, and I will not stand for it!"

As the tendrils began to push forth from the rift, Pietro began doing Ashla's work, slashing away at the sprawling tentacles as best as he could. With his free hand, he reached out with the Force, sending a wave of energy toward Lord Maestus in an effort to push her back. The cardinal stepped back, doing what he could to maintain his distance.

"I WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO YOUR LIES!"

His free hand reached forth, shooting a wave of golden lightning from his fingertips toward the otherworldly abomination. He had little of his old strength, but what little he had, he would give in service of Ashla.​

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Dark Horizon

Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

The old man approached her after his attack knocked her down.

"That is not the answer I seek. The answer... is fear."

The old man lifted his shoulders and shed down his cloak, revealing no body, but a mass of writhing dark energy, growing from the shape of a man into an amorphous stain of darkside energy. It emanated fear, whatever it may have been for whomever was caught in the aura. Vinaze pulsed the energy far and wide, around the entire citadel with the power he could muster. It felt so sweet, for long had it been since he consumed the fears of many, since his dreaded battle meditations at Malachor V and Tython had struck fear and despair into the very souls of heretics.

"What is it that you fear, Eina?" the Sith Lord's voice took on a sinister, ethereal snarl, like a chilling wind from beyond, "I smell it on you. It is loss, is it not? To lose Geiseric, to lose Sanctuary, to lose all that you have gained in coming to the mortal world, then to lose more. You know that when Darth Solipsis succeeds, it will be everything that is destroyed. You will lose it all."

 

[Maestus]

Corbos
Lightward Citadel
Pietro Demici Onrai

As she paced the room's outskirts, her mind's primary focus was on Onrai. As her eyes remained on the Good Cardinal, her ears listened. It took a few seconds to drag memories up that had been pushed down for the sake of new memories of the last 2 decades, give or take a few. Yes, recognition began to coalesce for the Twi'lek. She and Onrai...The Maw...Yes, Maestus was beginning to remember, slowly. As Onrai spoke and listed various deities and entities that reign in Otherspace, the names meant little and less to her. Until Onrai said "Left Handed God", black eyes rimmed with flames shifted from Pietro to Onrai.

You speak of Typhojem, the Left Handed God. That name is known to me.

She paused, both movement and speech. Her eyes flickered randomly around the room while her mind was processing new thoughts. Typhojem...The name of the academy ship... Maestus expression quickly turned quizzical, as she wondered if 2+2=4, after all. Her eyes rested on Onrai finally.

If one was seeking assistance, a ritual for example to resurrect the dead...Would Typhojem be called upon?

Unfurtunately, Maestus hearing any response would have to wait. She'd shifted her focus off Pietro as her mind was basically rocked by explosions of new possibilities. She paid for that lapse in focus, thanks to Pietro's blast of kinetic energy. Even though the Good Cardinal's physical health was, being nice here, "not good", the Force was not dependent on one's physical strength for many applications. Pietro's heart still beat for Ashla. She mused silently how many beats the poor thing had left. No matter how few remained, each was blessed and strengthened by the devout man's strength and faith in the Light. Maestus was unaware, inattentive and absolutely unprepared for the absolute missile Pietro unleashed at her. She flew back...Into the wall, sending a massive crack from floor to ceiling before the first speck of dust had a chance to fall from the reverberations caused by the for e of her impact. Once the main crack formed, smaller strands began to spiderweb out in all directions. Whatever very expensive materials had been used for the buildings structural walls was falling through the air, leaving it hard to breathe with the amount of dust particles hanging heavily.

As for Maestus, she made high velocity impact with the wall back first. And then with zero dignity or grace, just kinda slid to the floor, laying there in a crumpled heap. After a few seconds, she started to come to. She didn't move, it simply hurt -that- bad and everywhere. Even her Lekku were splayed out haphazardly, limp. After several long heartbeats of consciousness, the very tip of one Lekku kinda...Twitched. That small, almost imperceptible movement sent shockwaves of pain screaming straight to her brain. She screached in agony, hands snapping up, grabbing her head. Her body curls into a tight ball while she struggles to regain control of her breathing. If she doesn't, the searing agony will persist far longer. Her body shaking, she started trying to focus her breaths. Slow them. Hold them. Slow release. Couple cycles, and she had begun to retake control. Her breathing regulated once more, she set about pulling the Force to her and softening the pain reception happening in her head. Slowly the pain level decreased. As it did, she worked to get herself off the floor. Grunting the entire time, she got to her knees, then sat back on her heels and let a long deep sigh of relief.

You know, Pietro, you look terrible. You never recovered, did you? Obviously not physically, at least. But your heart is strong. Not the organ, I think you know exactly what I mean. That blast...I've not felt true pain like that in many, many decades. You are, as ever, favored of Ashla.

While she spoke, she started getting up and back on two feet. Once she was upright, she turned, trying to examine for physical injuries. Glimpses of the back of her head, nack and shoulders reveal massive trauma under the skin. Swelling had been instant, both shoulders were more egg shaped than should be. On the back of her head, cuts, scrapes and bruises of varying sizes and severity left no dot of skin without mark. She gave her lower back a gentle test twist, instantly regretting it. The muscles right on either side of her lower spine spasmed tightly and became a knotted mess. She hissed, disgusted with her current state. Should Pietro press a physical attack, she was in trouble.

A slight frown passed over as she considered her options. Then Onrai spoke to her directly. What the woman spoke of, offered, were answer's to questions Maestus had found herself asking since...Well before Tython. Before Exegol. Days turned into months turned into years of study and research. Long had she felt her alignment with the Sith way of doing things begin to shift. She had always believed in other realms, beyond the Usual Suspects. And too, her interest in the history of galactic affairs as they related to the Sith and Jedi produced even more questions. She began a journey, over 20 years ago, researching and learning about the different magics in the galaxy. The Force was present everywhere, interpreted and understood differently. Maestus has made slow progress on her own. Onrai's offer would, if she could do all she boast, answer many questions. She nodded as Onrai finished.

I accept your invitation. However, before I can leave, there is the small matter of the Good Cardinal. He is expected, alive. Now, I have great respect for the concept of free will. Not living under the yoke of another, my existence resting solely on their whim. Nor, am I a torturer. So, Pietro, I give you a choice. Yes, I am charged with delivering you to Darth Solipsis feet. After which time, yes, you will more than likely, be executed. Or worse.

She paused, purposely giving Pietro time to digest her last two words in particular. Solipsis was known to do all manner of experimentation on anyone. His methods, while exact and failproof, are best described as unholy and profane.

Or, come with us, and see for yourself what lies beyond. Surely the thought of "What if there truly is more out there?" has crossed your mind before? Assuming Onrai can handle transportation efficiently, I will deliver you at your request. No strings. If you're hell bent on martyring yourself, so be it. I will take you now, and then journey to the Otherspace. I am offering you a chance to see for yourself, with your own eyes.



​

 

[Onrai]

Pietro Demici Maestus

"Could you be any more hubristic, Pietro?" The form of Onrai raised a hand and effortlessly moved to absorb the expended energy as a quick snack. "The truth is that whatever faith you may have is nothing more than a reflection of your own personal vision. In essence, your gods only exist because you believe in them - thus they are not true gods. But there are beings in the galaxy worthy of worship. And with a bit of effort, it is possible to kill them and take their place."

As it stood, with a great deal of effort, Onrai and her new ally managed to get the Cardinal into the void of Otherspace. Some subjugation was needed, but he was taken to the myriad of sights the world had to offer and exposed to horrors and creations unlike anything he would have ever seen before. The Void Horror. The dead-yet-living form of Kopa Kahn. The triune of the Kindred cubes sunk into the landscape of Parallelepipedia, great holes blasted through their scaled and unmortifying flesh. Even the landscape itself, a world whose surface was only form when you actively sought to step on it, was something to gnaw at the mind.

And there was no Ashla here. No god. No deity. Nothing to be found. Onrai even did the unthinkable and took the Cardinal to the tear in reality near the Charnel Worlds where the Dark Gods and their fallen master, the Father of Shadows himself, resided behind. She explained succinctly and with utmost clarity to him that there were evils he could not possibly fathom - evils that made the Sith of the Dark Empire look like naught much more than petty children bullying their peers on the playground. She explained the tale of what had happened to Sasmay Cull and the fact that she had saved the galaxy from the predations of the maleficent fallen Celestials through her actions, admittedly leaving the involvement of Runi Kuryida out by omission.

And yet he denied it. No matter what proof she presented to him, no matter of the fact that he stood before the Kindred, their lesser peers, and the dead gods themselves, he refused to accept that there was an established order to the galaxy, an undeniable evil that the Sith themselves, and Onrai certainly, were not. Perhaps it was his such extreme devotion to the Ashlan cult - she refused to view it as a true faith - that blinded him. Or perhaps he was willfully ignorant and unwilling to concede that he had been wrong. Regardless of motivation, Onrai was spent and her patience had reached its limits.

"Very well, Cardinal. I have shown you the truth and you refuse to accept it. I feel sorry for you and what happens next, truly I do, but it was your own decision." Returning to the place they had left from, Onrai eyed Maestus, uncertain exactly as to what her views now were on this. "Take him away. He made his decision, and now he will receive his just rewards."