Wearing:
Ritual Gown,
Circlet of Light
Armed with:
Bloodscrawl Lightsaber
Objective: Resettlement
Magdalena Bloodscrawl, The Sorceress of Ossus, walked the world of Tython, a figure in shimmering blue.
Now that the Jedi had reclaimed the world, it was much easier to pinpoint exact disturbances.
Like the Flesh Raiders, for instance...
They had begun their attacks in certain sections of the planet, these ones close to the temples. Dozens of cave systems to hide in the wrecked looking wild lands, and dozens more actual ruins.
Magdalena had not come here with the intention to kill. Beyond Sith and their direct underlings, The Sorceress never killed unless left with no other choice.
Besides, she was here on a mission of mercy.
A ship containing Knights and Padawans had crashed close to a canyon newly formed from the titanic impacts of orbital fire. Witnesses described it has having been deliberately shot down by rocket fire. And Flesh Raiders had been sighted minutes before the ship had entered the area.
Wanting to do a nice thing for the Jedi Order, Magdalena had ventured out into the Wilds for a One-Force Spawn-army Rescue Mission.
Her son, Nathan, had thrown himself back into his work. She personally thought he should have taken it easy a little while longer, but she knew him and knew he didn't like to sit still. The more work he did, the less he thought of Lysandra's death in The Gulag Plague.
One day, the full recount of it had been described in ghastly details to her, and for the first time, Magdalena truly understood in her own inhuman way of understanding, just how badly traumatized the murder of Lysandra Crownwraithe had left him. It had haunted him in his death and beyond. Even after remarrying, the trauma stayed. He never dared talk about Lysandra to his new wife unless left with no choice...he feared making her think she was would always be second best.
But he had started talking to Magdalena about her. Frequently.
She lamented never having gotten to meet Lysandra. She realized how truly special Lysandra was to him...
It wasn't long before she came under attack from the savage tribes of
Flesh Raiders. She had seen the smoke signals in the distance that communicated her arrival.
Thick stocky warriors armed with a combination of vibrospears and swords rushed her from several different angles, popping up from hidden foxholes in the ground. Magdalena did not react at first, instead letting them get within striking distance. She whispered a spell at one, and altered his blood chemistry to suppress his aggression, making him stand still, looking very confused while she side stepped a spear thrust from behind, grabbing it and charging it with green, light side based lightning that traveled down the shaft stunning and knocking out the Raider holding the spear.
Cuts opened of their own accord on her exposed left arm and her glowing green blood flowed out in long tendrils, solidifying into blades at the tips that parried brutal sword thrusts before cutting the swords in half, the tendril ends transforming into hands that delivered quaint slaps across the faces of her opponents. She hadn't truly hurt anyone yet. This was a simple warning. She was going out of her way to avoid mutilation, even though it would have been absurdly easy to kill them all.
The ambush team seemed to take the hint at least, and retreated after another ten seconds of fruitless assault. Magdalena allowed them to run, as she had lives to save.
However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to screw with them and harass them in her own special way.
Magdalena concentrated and her face began to bubble, a border forming around it that leaked green blood and the face separated from the black skull and twitching, glowing green muscle tissue, sprouting thin muscled tendrils that crawled down her body as the bubbling face scurried off after the raiders in silent pursuit, it's silent, screaming countenance warping into that of another persona within her, The Sorceress of Odessan (See Bio)
After a few moments, Magdalena's face regrew fully and she continued on her way to the crash site, knowing more would be on their way, and in greater numbers.
Let them, she mused. As far as she was concerned, they were gnats attacking a Rancor.
She soon came across the crash site and her heart sank. It had made a deep, dark gash against the bottom of the canyon. She approached very quickly, any fires made from the crash having long died down.
She had lived through the plague. She was not afraid of getting her hands dirty. She immediately began pulling away wreckage with her bare hands, trying to find survivors. The adult bodies and those of the Padawans, had been badly mangled by the crash. Almost all had been killed on impact. All except one.
It would not do to describe the state of the female Padawan who was still alive. They barely clung to life though, and it was fading rapidly. Magdalena did not bother calling for medevac. She knew the girl would die before it could get here.
Let it be said that Magdalena did
everything she possibly could have done in the short time she had. She resorted to every traditional and exotic Force healing method she knew of to stabilize the mangled Padawan's condition, all to avoid the possibility of resorting to the nuclear option. She tried
everything to save this Padawan. EVERYTHING.
But it was no use. The damage to the tissue was too severe. It was a miracle she wasn't dead already. But her life slipped away further and further, and Magdalena had a decision to make...
The Sorceress had visited Morris Crownwraithe (AKA Nathan Bloodscrawl), her adopted son, in his sleep once more. Since she had mutated him, he no longer slept like normal people. He stood in the corner of the quarters she had given him on the ancient med star station she controlled.
She was less human in her thought process in those days. It was the days before she had created the Magda Crownwraithe persona to interact with him.
He was wearing dark gray training robes, dark hair in a messy pattern all over a pale scalp, eyes whited out like he was blind. The red bandana covered his face, as always. Like all those mutated by the Sorceress (which effectively made her the Gethzerion to his Savage Opress) he slept with his eyes completely open.
HIs quarters were spacious. His food was brought to him daily by her and she often spoke to him of her life and what she knew of his during her imprisonment. He never responded. Not because he didn't want to. He simply no longer knew 'how' to respond.
"Morris?" she called out softly.
A blink told her he was awake. Dead white eyes instantly focused on her like a laser.
The Sorceress smiled, gesturing to a tray of food on a desk.
"I brought you breakfast..." she said.
Morris slowly reached up and pulled off his bandana. The Sorceress, not even human enough in her thinking to appreciate just how horrific the side effect of his mutations were, only widened her smile.
From her perspective, he looked like a perfect angel, a champion.
The lower half of his face was translucent, and that included the muscle tissue. This side effect went down to his sternum, revealing the lower half of his skull and neck bones.
She noted with curiosity that he seemed to retain some self consciousness about his appearance, as he moved slightly faster than normal to the desk, hunched over, so she couldn't get a good look any further at his features, and began silently eating.
"I wanted to ask if you were getting along well with the other deputies. Are you?"
Morris looked up from his meal to her, shadows covering his face save the eyes. He nodded.
The Sorceress knew she was missing things as an adoptive mother. She didn't know what she didn't know. Connecting to him was difficult. But she was certainly trying.
"Morris..." she spoke softly. "Do you... remember...your old life?"
No distinct answer, only a few blinks.
"If I ever figured out how to restore you... would you want to be?"
No answer. Only blinks.
She sighed. He didn't understand the question.
"Morris...I...I want you to know...if there had been another way...ANY other way other than letting you die...I would have taken it without hesitation."
Only blinking from Morris, thinking as only Deputies do.
She stayed with him in silence until he finished eating. Then she began to leave so he could prepare for the training session against his fellow deputies.
Morris caught her by the right arm with a firm grip, surprising her as he slowly pulled her back.
The Sorceress blinked, and for a split second saw a flicker of humanity in her son's eyes as he slowly, hesitantly embraced her in a short hug to her shock and surprise. His hug was the hug of someone who barely remembered how to.
Her mouth fell open slightly as the Bandana went around his face again. She brushed his forehead lightly with her thumb, fingers gliding through his hair before she departed.
As she left his quarters, guilt in small sparks flashed in her mind for the first time over what she had done to save his life from the devastating internal injuries he had suffered on Ession...
Present...
She had tried to reach her. Communicate with her telepathically. Nothing. The girl was on the verge of Brain Death. If it was going to be done, it had to be done
now...
Her thinking had evolved since then...she better appreciated the ethical ramifications of what she was about to do.
She didn't do it lightly. But she had exhausted all other options beyond simply letting the Padawan die.
For a second, she almost did. Perhaps it would be for the best.
But perhaps some good might yet come of doing what she did next. And perhaps...just perhaps...with her son's help...
The girl might regain her humanity someday.
She found a natural pit of earth created by the crash from ship debris and cut open her palm with shrapnel, chanting the ancient spells as she dripped it into the pit of dirt.
The glowing green blood soaked into the dirt, and the dirt began to bubble in a slurry of earth mixed with Force Spawn Blood.
There wasn't much time left.
Gently gathering the wounded Padawan, she laid the girl in the pit of bubbling dirt blood, green lightning arcing off the surface as the young teenager was fully immersed.
Minutes passed. The girl's fully healed, now pale hand shot out of the pit, the rest of her still under the liquid.
Magdalena saw the tattered remnants of a cloak and tore part of it off and tossed it to the fully healed Padawan, whose arm disappeared back under the liquid for a minute...
...and a female
Deputy, newly made, rose out of the pit in an almost zombie-like manner, sightless white eyes staring up at Magdalena, silver hair matted to her scalp.
"What...is...thy...bidding...?" The newly made Deputy asked in a whisper...
Magdalena extended her arm and pulled the Deputy out of the pit.
"Not today, but someday..." Magdalena trailed before finishing her sentence...
"You shall rip...and tear...until it is
done..."
(BFG DIVISION BY MICK GORDON PLAYS OOC)