Dark Lord of Passion
Mustafar, Sith Order Space
The Crenalent Spillway
Secret Holdings of the ISBC
The stage had been set, the players were beginning to fall into position, the words had been spoken. The Covenant had been Signed. Today's Sith Order was a different one than it had been just a few days prior. Before, the Empire had been fragmented, nothing more than a cabal of warlords playing at empire while the old worm stood by and watched their flailing. Now, the aristocracy and bureaucracy were aiming for a resurgence. Sith Families that had chosen to set aside their differences for the greater good of their glorious empire had taken a step forward to a greater new tomorrow. The Gala on Thule had accomplished everything Nwul had wanted, and more. Though it had not come without cost. Even with the fading injuries from his battle with Carnifex, Nwul was satisfied enough to finally drop the veneer of the aristocrat he had maintained during the party.
Now, he was just himself.
In the opinion of some, though, that was worse.
Darth Nwul Shasot'ari made his way through the dark hallways ahead of the small party behind him, the war droids and soldiers accompanying them were mostly for show. It was a good show though, he had to admit. He was humming lightly to himself as they passed another checkpoint, the men guarding it drawing their own weapons and ending their own lives without more than a garbled cry of grief. Nwul's arms behind his back, his lightsaber, Derriphan, bouncing off his thigh. He glanced back at those behind him as the latest wretched corpse fell to the ground, another line of defense between himself and his goals crumbling.
"
Maëlys Amnen
!
Saryn Zambrano
! A word game! The 'f's of statecraft. I've got Funding, Firepower, Fanaticism, and the Force. What about you?" He chortled, stepping over another body, the blaster burn on the side of its head sizzling against the tears running down his face. Nwul's 'Force Misery' hanging in the air around him like the scent of a predatory plant. The air filled with the sweet scent love, but the threat of death just inches past it.
There were others with them as well, bureaucrats and nobles who were eager to see the beginning of a new era for the Empire's economy, if one could call it that. The flagging nationstate barely had anything that resembled an economy, most businesses held in a stranglehold by the imperial throne, money barely moved, and the Imperial Sith Banking Clan, an offshoot of the true Intergalactic Banking Clan, was basically holding on to vast pools of wealth, refusing to use any of it for the betterment of the empire or it's people. It saw no use in spending money when the Emperor could simply demand something built, regardless of the cost.
That was not the way of a civilization, though. Even Empyrean knew it, though he refused to acknowledge it for whatever reason. The ISBC's wealth had grown monstrously even as its holdings had shrunk into nothingness. Now, Mustafar was all that was left. If the ISBC died here, the Empire's economy would never be able to recover. There was only one option. They had to force the cowards of the ISBC to stand on their own feet again, or, the more likely and Nwul's preferable choice. Take over the bank and create a new economy.
Sounded like fun!
We're attacking the headquarters of the lynchpin of the SO economy. This has been greenlit by
Darth Empyrean
. Players who are interested in financial rp or otherwise want to assist in taking over are welcome.
The Crenalent Spillway
Secret Holdings of the ISBC
The stage had been set, the players were beginning to fall into position, the words had been spoken. The Covenant had been Signed. Today's Sith Order was a different one than it had been just a few days prior. Before, the Empire had been fragmented, nothing more than a cabal of warlords playing at empire while the old worm stood by and watched their flailing. Now, the aristocracy and bureaucracy were aiming for a resurgence. Sith Families that had chosen to set aside their differences for the greater good of their glorious empire had taken a step forward to a greater new tomorrow. The Gala on Thule had accomplished everything Nwul had wanted, and more. Though it had not come without cost. Even with the fading injuries from his battle with Carnifex, Nwul was satisfied enough to finally drop the veneer of the aristocrat he had maintained during the party.
Now, he was just himself.
In the opinion of some, though, that was worse.
Darth Nwul Shasot'ari made his way through the dark hallways ahead of the small party behind him, the war droids and soldiers accompanying them were mostly for show. It was a good show though, he had to admit. He was humming lightly to himself as they passed another checkpoint, the men guarding it drawing their own weapons and ending their own lives without more than a garbled cry of grief. Nwul's arms behind his back, his lightsaber, Derriphan, bouncing off his thigh. He glanced back at those behind him as the latest wretched corpse fell to the ground, another line of defense between himself and his goals crumbling.
"


There were others with them as well, bureaucrats and nobles who were eager to see the beginning of a new era for the Empire's economy, if one could call it that. The flagging nationstate barely had anything that resembled an economy, most businesses held in a stranglehold by the imperial throne, money barely moved, and the Imperial Sith Banking Clan, an offshoot of the true Intergalactic Banking Clan, was basically holding on to vast pools of wealth, refusing to use any of it for the betterment of the empire or it's people. It saw no use in spending money when the Emperor could simply demand something built, regardless of the cost.
That was not the way of a civilization, though. Even Empyrean knew it, though he refused to acknowledge it for whatever reason. The ISBC's wealth had grown monstrously even as its holdings had shrunk into nothingness. Now, Mustafar was all that was left. If the ISBC died here, the Empire's economy would never be able to recover. There was only one option. They had to force the cowards of the ISBC to stand on their own feet again, or, the more likely and Nwul's preferable choice. Take over the bank and create a new economy.
Sounded like fun!
We're attacking the headquarters of the lynchpin of the SO economy. This has been greenlit by
