Into the Hellmouth | Knights Obsidian

[Malok]

THE RULING NEST
Secundus Ando, Local Time: 2350

From the wretched depths of their caverns did vicious whispers begin to sound. Like a cancer ravaging the body, the words of malicious intent slowly infected the minds of the Ruling Nest. With open arms had they been welcomed into the collective - their debt of blood paid by the demise of their predecessors. But they did not see justice in the felling of the Old Order. They did not see the right which came from putting to the sword those who would capture, maim, and torment the Confederacy's best. And while the Southern Systems were quick to forgive, the generation which came after the Old Order quietly conspired.

Though they smiled and served among the Viceroyalty...though they pledged taxes and support to every cause, their schemes continued to grow. The Charter - the unifying document of the new Confederacy - quickly contorted before their anger. No longer did they see it as a source of unification and of liberty, but as something to be challenged. Something to be hated. In time, the whispers of opposition grew into something much more. At first, obscure HoloNet frequencies erupted with venomous rhetoric. Next, foundries on Secundus Ando were being lit aflame.

When the infernos were finally extinguished, a troublesome truth began to come to light. Weapons and ordnance were nowhere to be found in the wreckage. The Droids had been picked clean of anything of remote use. The fires were but a cover - a darkening of the skies.

But nothing evaded eyes Obsidian. Nothing in the dark remained hidden for long. As the whispers grew into thunder, the Knighthood hearkened to the Nest. They gleaned intent. They heard malice. They witnessed Rebellion brewing within their own borders. They saw firsthand what upstart movements like Coruscant First would devolve into when left unchecked. But the Knights Obsidian were not their Jedi allies - and the Confederacy was no Galactic Alliance. When rebellion sprouted roots in the soil, the vermin was to be ripped out.

The cancer slashed from the body.

The hum of hushed engines lulled to a close. Scimitars crunched down upon the slumbering world, breaching the sovereignty of the Ruling Nest. Here, the so-called Spiveralda conspired in peace - for no other Nest dared to infringe on their home territory. No other nest dared to challenge their lordship. It was rare that they even so much as received visitors from outside their own, let alone strangers from offworld. But in this instance, the cloaks of Stygium were yet raised. No alarm had been raised. The Ruling Nest had no clue that Judgment had found them.

Aboard the lead vessel, the Vicelord turned in his seat. He had shown them mercy at the instance of his Apprentice - he had not blamed the entire species for the transgressions of a few upstarts. He, like always, had trusted in the impeccable judgment of [member="Srina Talon"]. But the Spiveralda abused the mercy of the fabled Dread Queen. And now, they would suffer for treason. Now, the debt of blood was due.

"Beneath out feet, they plot against us. Against our sons, against our worlds, against our Peace." Darth Metus' voice boomed as thunder, echoing through the Obsidian comms. "The Spiveralda have attacked our foundries, spilled our blood, and pilfered our arms. They are rebellion incarnate."

Ascension gripped him. Bold strides bore the Sith down the waiting ramp and into the arid atmosphere of Secundus Ando. His burning gaze fell upon the gaping chasm in the earth - a literal Hellmouth wherein all the Harch crawled. They slithered to and fro down thick webs and nestled themselves in amber pods to sleep the night away. Darth Metus clutched his saber and angled it over the depths. The bloodshine blade erupted, spelling certain doom for the residents inside.

"We will not suffer Rebellion within our borders."​

"Knights Obsidian. Leave. None. Alive."​

Spoiler: Objectives

Intel has been patched into the HUD of every Obsidian. Valuable details of the battle to come lay before them.

Plummet into the Hellmouth and due east is the Birthing Chamber. The Spirveralda function much like any insectoid Hive. A singular Queen is the mother of the Ruling Nest and near perpetually creates the next generation. Carve through the Drones standing in your way. Put down the source of the Spiveralda.​

At the center of the Hive is the All Web: source of persistent nutrients for the Nest's residents. It touches ever pod and feeds the Spiveralda throughout their slumber. Bring destruction to the All Web - starve every last one.​

Spoiler: Tag

[member="Aaron Stratus"]
[member=AceReplica]
[member="Adron Malvern"]
[member="Aedan Miles"]
[member="Ahani Najwa"]
[member=Akabane]
[member="Alden Kyr’Nau"]
[member="Aleksander Miles"]
[member="Alistair Myre"]
[member="Alyva Terrix"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member=Ao'Kami]
[member="Aoker Veru"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Archim Calixis"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Aria Lyr"]
[member="Arken Lussk"]
[member=Arlox]
[member="Arthur Pendragon"]
[member=Ash]
[member="Asher Mossa"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Auswyn Nothrael"]
[member="Averin An'Arach"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member=B1-990]
[member=B2-D34T7]
[member=Ballen-Ist]
[member="BNI-Bella and BNI-Leo"]
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[member=BX-72967]
[member=BX-73300]
[member=BX-75244]
[member="Cairyn Midore"]
[member="Causstik Rahn"]
[member="Chalim Vern"]
[member="Chek Zun"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Cora deWinter"]
[member="Cyprine Talon"]
[member="Dakita Calfur"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Damien Van-Derveld"]
[member=Darkhold]
[member="Darth Atrox"]
[member="Darth Illisus"]
[member="Darth Inanis"]
[member="Darth Interitus"]
[member="Darth Malus"]
[member="Darth Metus"]
[member="Darth Nius"]
[member="Darth Phren"]
[member="Darth Rixas"]
[member="Darth Seraphic"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Zurvan"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member=DE-16]
[member="Derek Dib"]
[member="Dinah Vekarr"]
[member=Drauchir]
[member=Duidatos]
[member=DV8-420]
[member=Eirene]
[member="Eladia Laux"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Emberly Carrick"]
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[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Eternal Ambition"]
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[member="Eternal Vision"]
[member=Faeri]
[member="Faustina Beryll"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member=Fidelis]
[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]
[member="Firenne Van-Derveld"]
[member=G3M1N1]
[member="Galven Hansol"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Ginnie Verd"]
[member=Gorm]
[member="Hadashah Vi'dreya"]
[member="Hades Dai"]
[member="Hala Jast"]
[member=Hircine]
[member="Hypatia Najwa"]
[member="Ian Sade"]
[member="Iris Issey"]
[member="Irys Arist'lar"]
[member="Isamu Baelor"]
[member="Iskander Verd"]
[member="Ithiel Verd"]
[member=J'Raa]
[member="Jack Anderson"]
[member=Jakarn]
[member="Jaron Lesan"]
[member="Jasmine Zittoun"]
[member="Jayce Pryde"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jerad Lettiere"]
[member="Jia Darkhold"]
[member=Jorah]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member=Jorge]
[member="Judah Lesan Jr."]
[member="Julian Valentine"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kaiah Sixsipita"]
[member="Kaiya Halycon"]
[member="Kal Jaii"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kas Varad"]
[member="Katria Vekarr"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kestrel Dray"]
[member="Ket Van-Derveld"]
[member="Khia Varad"]
[member=Kilia]
[member=Kingsley]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member=Kiso]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member=Kyber]
[member="Kyle Ajahn"]
[member="Lady Psyona"]
[member=Lanna]
[member="Lear Shamalain"]
[member=Lemon]
[member="Lera DeVana"]
[member=Lewis]
[member="Lord Mettallum"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marcus Arterialis"]
[member="Marcus Lund"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Maxerian Gron"]
[member=Meira]
[member=Mercutio]
[member="Miki Starfallen"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
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[member="Moira Skaldi"]
[member="Morgan Redeaux"]
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[member=Mynnic]
[member=Mythira]
[member="Nasho Vesh"]
[member="Nassier Zirfae"]
[member="Natasha Darkstar"]
[member="Nayru Wyndaru"]
[member=Nibsani]
[member="Nicholas Covosi"]
[member="Nilia Saavilin"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
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[member="Noviac Caligo"]
[member="Nysana Talon"]
[member=Nyx]
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[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Paige Blossom"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Pitts Carnegue"]
[member=Prime]
[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"]
[member=R4N-JR]
[member="Rale Elysar"]
[member=Rapax]
[member=Rashae]
[member="Rath Exigo"]
[member=Raziel]
[member="Rebecca Jaeger"]
[member=Riggs]
[member="Rima Orwray"]
[member="Rin Talon"]
[member=Rog-r]
[member="Rosaline Rousseau"]
[member="Rujat Aola"]
[member="Ryker Wylde"]
[member=S.Y.N.]
[member=Saffron]
[member="Saine Kela"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Sasha Santhe"]
[member="Savoh Iaht"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member=Shadar-Pox]
[member=Shade]
[member="Shaden Vekarr"]
[member="Shandria Navin"]
[member=Sko'saht]
[member=Skorvek]
[member="Sky'ito Yumi"]
[member="Sol Damerin"]
[member="Sol Ordana"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
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[member="Srina Talon"]
[member=STRATCOM]
[member=Sungie]
[member="Super TD-T47"]
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[member="Zyrias Pax"]

 

[Nine Lives]

Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor

Using: Million-Handed Collosus, Warhawk.

It was so strange, being a knight again.

Nine had never thought she would bear such a title again. Was not sure if the honor that came with such a title would ever truly belong to a parasite. But now, holding that Wintrium Katana, its sheath having a subtle frost pattern to it, its blade almost frosty in color itself, she realized it did not matter at the moment. She hadn't brought Hundred-Handed Giant. That was a murderer's weapon, not a knight's weapon. She had brought the warhawk she'd technically purchased from the very man who was leading this operation. She recalled a few Atrisian Emperors who had done the same. Despite being clad in this advanced armor (She BARELY understood how it worked, it had taken her nearly a week to figure out how all the little gizmos worked before she was comfortable wearing it. Her ceremonial robes had been left behind as well.) She almost felt like she was missing something.

The result was a tall, almost ungainly figure, her sword secured to her back with a strap, her tomahawk in her hand, marveling at these interesting Scimitar ships everyone was getting into. Ships were perhaps the first Psy-Pire's one true vice...after a good blade, of course. She needed to get one of these. This era came with such classy vessels.

Strangely, during the flight to her mission, she somehow felt naked within the armor. Nine realized that as much as she regarded those robes as the finery of a tick, they had been with her so long they were a part of her.

And perhaps, those robes were the only thing of her 'children' that had ever reached past her revulsion at what she had turned those poor people in her insanity. The misguided gift of confused people who thought they were something new. Something beautiful, even.

Nine felt a small pang, one she dared not admit to even herself, that was distinctly, disturbingly maternal when she thought of them.

She focused on their mission. It basically boiled down to this: Someone thought they could mess with a government run by a Dark Lord. Said Dark Lord had frowned, shaken that metaphorical bug-spray, and with the ignition of his red bloodshine blade, had turned them all into an aerosol flamethrower. Sure, regular poison would have done the job, but it wouldn't leave all the pretty little lights from burning moth flesh.

And it was called the Hellmouth on top of it.

Well, not like I wasn't due for the pit anyway. Nine thought, force jumping from her vantage point over the chasm, the tall woman disturbingly silent as she used her special, adhesion-based telekinesis to cling to an inner wall of the chasm, drawing her sword in mid air as she hit a smooth surface on the inner chasm and sliced into a Harch sentry's head, to prevent it from warning the others. She flicked the blood on the rock, silently sheathed her sword, and drew her tomahawk, crawling down like a tall spider, sticking to the shadows as best she could as she moved down through the chasm. She was sneaking up on another sentry crawling below. She avoided the thick webs, cutting them where possible so her obsidian comrades could go through the chasm unimpeded should they so wish. She smashed the hawk head into the surprised sentry. Ew. She didn't think she would try eating one of their birthdays. It could only end poorly. Good thing her lawyer had brought her that first order Sargent to feed on (She didn't ask how, and ended up taking eight months of the guy's life from him...literally. Her biot had shot him afterward.)

Nine kept to the shadows, sneaking up silently on the other Spirveralda as some tried to climb into their resting pods.

Her Tomahawk silently smashed through many, and it wasn't until this process had been repeated about six times that the others realized something was wrong. Nine used the Force to pinball between the chasm walls, smashing and cutting through them with her vibro-tomahawk. She was liking this weapon, which was odd as she favored swords. But this had a good weight to it. Satisfying swing. Very satisfying. Maybe it was the way of the Dark Five Rings talking, but hey, if anyone's a good judge, its the butcher, right.

As Nine landed after a pinball chase to a pathway neary the bottom of the chasm some of the Spirveralda were crawling and slithering towards her, and she drew the collosus.

"Come get some." Nine challenged. The mass of her enemies charged and Nine breathed in and out, opening herself to a presence she felt had forsaken her long ago. But the speed it granted her, perhaps watching within as she began cutting through them, dodging their weapons, she knew it was simply to useful to give up at this point.

Her weapons bit through alien flesh, some squealing at glancing blows from a blade ground with blood poison, the pain opening them up to a blow from her axe. Her ancestors approved most likely. A small reminder of why they had once been known as The House of The Blood Tiger was better than none at all, and Nine was slashing in a slowed down world. Slashing and stabbing and dodging and hacking, splashing brand new knight armor with blood, and drenching her new weapons for the first time in the name of the order she served.

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

Was this ironic? or just the general way life worked? who knew, but fighting against a rebellion seemed strange for a person who had 800 years prior had fought tooth and nail for the new republic, the early rebellion, helping out cells in imperial controlled areas, later the Vong and many more. Even Darth Talon in the later years and the One Sith, before, you know the one Sith of recent days, basically her life was a constant war against the higher-ups one way or another, weather it be as a solo merc or in a company.

Now though things where different, she was 'supposed' in a affluent position of power, a figure head in a large galactic power, have responsibilities, missions to the government and similar things. In this day and age she was on the opposite side, even if it was clear 'these' rebel where not the nice type, out for themselves rather then the people, still it felt strange. More so when there was not really much of a fight at hand, the woman silently stalking through the tunnels the beast she could, popping off those that stayed in her path with a silenced slug thrower before vanishing into the shadows again.

Fast efficient and was a good test to see if she was still decent at stealth, not that everyone wanted to be like that, echoes down the hallway of a certain Atrsian woman being quite noticeable. 'Guess that should have happen, not really like people listen to my orders... kind of hard to give any when half of em surpass me, best just let em do what they want, she can handle herself'. After all the... former Jedi? Kurenai was un-sure, but the woman was a great fighter, could glide through an enemy army with ease if need be, was often the first into battle and taking care of business before anyone had a chance to realize the situation.

'While she is out distracting half the place I can get rid of her highness... bee a while since, I've assassinated anyone, at the very least its a new species to my hit list, now how to find her'. The array of tunnels made things difficult, but if these creatures retained anything from their non-evolved counterparts then smell would still be a good determination of who is where and what. If true all Kurenai would have to do is pick up a unique scent, such bound to be the queen.

 

[Razelle Breuner]

CAMP FINALE
Secundus Ando, Local Time: 2350

The stench of fear filled the Harch caverns. It hadn't been difficult to discern the reason for a Confederate fleet in low orbit, sending down landing craft. The average Harch knew exactly what was going on, and the Noklo Hkuina couldn't afford to allow themselves the luxury of denial. Not even two hundred freedom fighters huddled up in their cavern-camp, whispering in terror, awaiting their end. They had been confident they could handle a few of the Confederacy's corrupt secret police, but not this many. Not dozens. Not hundreds.

Almost a hundred of them had scattered this morning. It wouldn't matter either way. A hundred more Harch wouldn't sway the battle, and running from dictatorial honor guards was pointless.

Razelle Breuner sat on a crate around one of the large communal lamps that dotted the cavern, well out of range of webs or fear. Instead, she was surrounded by a cloud of stim smoke, and had at least three burned-out sticks littering the ground beneath her boots. She knew exactly how today was going to transpire, and she knew that everyone else here thought they knew, too. Harch were known to be a crafty sort, but more importantly they were known to think of themselves as far too crafty. Every single one of the noisy, freaky little bug-people thought they were Thrawn, for frag's sake. And not a damn one of them was.

If she was honest, Raz wasn't, either. She wasn't a genius. She wasn't a visionary or a commander or even a coordinator. Frankly, she had wildly overstepped her reach with this latest little project. But what she was was prepared. Imminently, flawlessly prepared. She knew these tunnels well enough, sure, but she knew her limits far better. And this? This convergence of Obsidian military personnel? She'd have a hard time fending it off with a trained platoon of well-equipped commandos. Doing so with militarized locals was impossible. Today was when this thought exercise came to its bloody, very final conclusion, and she had absolutely no plans on being part of that conclusion.

She checked her databracer. Four of her six bug-out options were still totally viable. Honestly, she'd have lost more options from an orbital bombardment. This very personal invasion was exactly what the doctor ordered. It would let the Noklo Hkuina go out with a bang, in a blaze of glory, or whatever other metaphor they wanted to use for it, it would let her provide one hell of a tick on her resume for the future, and they'd all be so distracted with rooting out the rebels that she'd have a staggering amount of cover to escape with.

Raz stood, took a deep breath, and finished her stim stick. Forty-seven hours without sleep. She'd be crashing as soon as she secured her escape route. Until then, she had a revolution to whip into a bloody fury. Her voice was scratchy, which helped her sound much more native as she spoke in her own, original tongue. Andoan. Aqualish.

"We're caught now," she began, three words hushing the crowd around her. Someone had started up a transceiver nearby to broadcast her little pre-battle speech to the whole rebel cell. "They've got us properly hemmed in. The Mouth is compromised, which means there's no way we can scatter in time. Only one way out, after all." A dozen other ways, at least. Raz didn't want to draw attention to them. "But this is what we wanted. This is what we've been fighting for. We got their attention so they'd come fight us, and now they are." Her lips took on a grim smirk, which was only made more dire by her tired, baggy eyes. "Their mistake."

The blonde took a few steps along the edge of the lamp, holding up her databracer. "I just got word from the prep teams. We've squeezed every drop of boom we could out of what was left of what our benefactors sent us." She stood steady, hands on her hips. "It'll be enough to give them a black eye, if we're unlucky. A bloody nose, if we're good. And if we fight to the last sapient, we can make these bastards pay for every centimeter."

There was a moment of silence. She interrupted it several seconds later. "So. End of the line. The Nested Heart ends here, today. But our message doesn't. The planet has already heard us. SecAndo will remember. What we do here, today? We'll make the whole galaxy remember." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she held up her fist to the cavern roof. Rather than a shout of inspiration, it was a cold, low, venomous declaration of intent. Fell purpose in every ounce of her voice. "For Ando."

There was no shout in response. The Harch of the Noklo Hkuina - the Nested Heart - prepared for their last stand.

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

[-SOUNDTRACK: HELGHAST MARCH-]​

Gear: Wither (Sith Sword) | The Triad (Lightsabers) | Shrouded Blade (Lightsaber) | Shroud of Desolation (Armor)​

Troops: 72nd 'Death Guards' Infantry Regiment - 1 Squad (10 Soldiers) | Blackwatch Death Squad (10 Soldiers)​

Attn: [member="Amethyst Atreides"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"]​

​

• Ruling Nest
  Secundus Ando

Insubordination. Mutiny. Treason. These were all things that went against everything the Shrouded Republic stood for. Despite their previous crimes, the Harch had been offered amnesty, security and a place within the Confederacy and they responded to that by spitting on the Charter that stood at its heart. They had made a grave mistake.

Insubordination. Mutiny. Treason. These were all things that Darth Tacitus, the enigmatic Overlord of the Shrouded Republic, simply could not and would not tolerate. Within one of the Scimitar-class stealth transports, the agents of punishment prepared their weapons as the vessel approached its destination, waiting to bring justice to the rebels and restore order. These agents were some of the most terrible and feared soldiers within the Shrouded Republic's fierce military. Soldiers of the 72nd Infantry Battalion, an elite force of shock troops who were well known for their vicious brutality and savagery in combat, accompanied by a squad of troopers from the Shrouded Republic's Blackwatch, the dreaded secret police and repression apparatus which was known for its ruthlessness and loyalty to the state. The filthy insects crawling around this nest of scum and villainy, unsuspecting what was about to befall them, would learn the true meaning of horror. And then they would die.

For traitors such as these, there would be no mercy. Only genocide.

Standing at the head of the column of soldiers, his apprentice and lover by his side, the powerful Sith Lord which ruled over Nelvaan gave his troops a final nod of approval. There was no need for fanciful speeches, or grandiose words. This was not some grand battle in a glorious war. It was an extermination, plain and simple. The disciplined soldiers of the Shrouded Republic knew their tasks. They had been briefed about the mission. Every one of them knew what was expected of their unit and would not disappoint their commander.

As the ship's ramp began to lower, the Overlord felt his blood begin to boil in anticipation of the carnage that would soon unfold. His dark thoughts summoned the currents of the Darkside to him, building up into a bubbling, boiling pot of potential violence and destruction. He gave Amethyst a wild grin and locked his lips against hers in a fierce, passionate kiss. And then he put on his helmet, drew his dreaded longsword and stepped out with his company of warriors, taloned hand raised into the air as soon as his armored foot touched the soil of the planet beneath him, unleashing bolts of lightning the color of darkest night, which soared through the air to connect with the nearest group of vermin, sending their mangled, twitching corpses to the floor. And then, the blaster fire began.

His soldiers fanned out in precise formation, firing their hybrid rifles as they went, blaster bolts and slugs indiscriminately hurled at Harch civilian and combatant alike.

All around, Confederate troops and Knights Obsidian charged into the mouth of hell, blocking the Spiveralda's only means of escape, trapping the vermin within their foul nest to face the final punishment for their sins. Today, the foul disease of rebellion which ate at the heart of this planet like a cancer, would be excised. The inhabitants of the ruling nest, insurgent or no, would be made an example of. One that would serve as a grim reminder of the price that the Confederacy exacted for violation of its sacred trust.

​

 

[Darth Rixas]

The irony of having eyes animated by the darkside, layered with deceptively beautiful blemishes of orange and red, was that Oron's face rarely matched their intensity. His mocha features were a chiseled masterpiece, with discolored patches of purple and black against brown skin, which held an expression that was either completely devoid of emotion or fully enveloped in a fit of determination and murderous intent. It was hard to tell these days, especially with how little his emotions fluctuated between his actions. It was a realization he felt indifferent about, but a small observation he'd manage to snap of himself regardless.

The vocabulator of his helmet translated a sound- something akin to a grunt, as Oron grabbed a light-stick, cracked it to life, and threw the scarlet object into the abyss before him and those present. Eyes focused, he watched it as the stick turned and rotated over itself repeatedly, plummeting into the darkness, Oron merely calculating the space below and how far down the stick would travel. For several seconds the light grew smaller and smaller during its descension until finally, it was simply gone.

Interesting.

The Dar'manda noted, but he only found it so because he didn't recall hearing the plastic object reach the bottom.

 

[Rylan Kordel]

Messing with and tugging at parts of the armor he wore now, Rylan shook his head, slightly aggravated at this new suit of armor, he hadn't fully comprehended what it would be like to wear strike armor, especially when he had always been used to his own armor, but it was in desperate need for repairs, and he was here on much more official business, which he believed required the use of this outfit more, at least for now. Finally settling a bit in the suit as they landed, he was one of the first off of the ships, he was ready for a fight, and was itching to test himself again, this time in a setting he had never really fought in before.

With a shrug of his shoulders, the blaster rifle was in hand, and the knight was on the outer perimeter of the strike forces landing zone, scanning the dark with night-vision and prepared for the on coming battle. His eyes never left the field in front of him, this was not the time to drop ones guard, that was when things would get ugly, and this was not the time for such things, so here he waited, ready to run into action, just awaiting the order to move forward and exterminate the enemy.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

In Orbit: [ Star Destroyer Intervention | Multi-Vector Self-Propelled Battle Droid, Mk III ]​

Equipment: [ OM-P 376 | Paperweight | HoloLink | HoloBoy Advanced ]​

[ (I Can't Stop) The Dogs of War ]​

​

​

The circular form of a Corellian YT-2400 light freighter appeared from under the large shadow of a triangular star destroyer. As a pair of droid starfighters took up escort position, the small freighter looped up over the top of the ancient Republic Venator-class cruiser.

For a moment, seeing the profile of the stately Old Republic vessel silhouette against the gleaming jewel of an alien planet, the young Anzat was reminded about a time when he had been an explorer. A Jedi on the Outer Rim. Away from the Jedi Council's condescending oversight. Out of touch with whatever political drama might be embroiling the Galactic Senate. Just a lightsaber, a padawan, and a mandate to do what was right.

Did anyone remember when they used to be explorers?

The YT-2400 rolled on its axis, plunging down over the side of the star destroyer as it aimed for the planet below. Turbolaser fire traded between the ship and the planet's surface, where defensive batteries took aim at the capital ship now in orbit.

The Hatch were rebelling against the Confederacy.

And the Confederacy seemed ready to let loose the hounds of war in response.

"Knights Obsidian. Leave. None. Alive."

When had he joined the One Sith? Should he change his name to Darth Youngling? Or would Chibi Ren be more fashionable now, the small Anzat mused to himself. "How about, Hey, Knights Obsidian, let's uphold the rule of law and avoid any unnecessary civilian casualties?" These were delicate social and political interactions. If the Vicelord was not careful, he'd find the reaction to what happened at Secundus Ando only working to forment further dissent elsewhere.

Then again, there were plenty of stories about the Galactic Republic or even the Silver Jedi orbital bombarding populated civilian metropolis in strategic maneuvers that, while tactically sound, were completely identical to the very same tactics used by the Sith Empire or First Order.

It was, after all, war. "Maybe customary interstellar law of armed conflict isn't what it used to be..." the child-pilot uttered softly, even as he threaded the Alderaan Queen through the magnetosphere and into the clouds. What was the old Coruscanti expression? Inter arma silent legis.

As he had learned during the Clone Wars, not even the Jedi were immune to the chaos of war. Master Pong Kell had demonstrated that much with extreme prejudice, and still been hailed as a highly successful Jedi General because the Order had come to value victory at any cost over holding the moral line.

The descendants of Admiral Trench were not apt to surrender without a fight. Turbolaser batteries sent bolts of red light streaking from the ground up into the sky. Armored air speeders were rising up to challenge the freighter's encroachment upon the familiar nest of spiders that was housed within the hellmouth. Rotating the ship's axis around, there was a moment in which the centrifugal force, combined with the planet's gravity well, worked against one another. The child's tawny hair lifted away from his head, as near weightlessness set in. Behind him, a loud, warbling protest could be heard from the BB unit that was now rolling around the interior of the ship like a pinball gone wild.

Stretching his arm out to the full reach of his small body, the Anzat threw the controls hard over. Gravity returned with a vengeance, forces acting on the small ship as the horizon pulled away from view. Pulled out of the dive, the droid starfighter escort peeled away as the Alderaan Queen pulled sharply skyward.

The droids would deal with the air speeders.

Flipping end over end, the YT-2400 fell out of the sky in a piece of piloting that might have been aptly described as a controlled crash. Turned onto one side, the small freighter rocketed down into the chasm that led into the hellmouth. Defensive emplacements fired several shots at the small moving vessel. Bolts of blue turbolaser light, fired from the Intervention, sent plumes of flame and black smoke skyward as the destroyer in orbit worked at whittling away the barriers to the Alderaan Queen's path.

A pair of proton torpedoes sailed out from underneath the freighter, spiraling as they shot across the canyon.

The ray shield generators surrounding a small speeder hangar in the side of the cliff were blown away with the impact. The deflector screen flickering out of existence just moments before the YT-2400 blew through the opening. Braking thrusters sent crates and canisters flying through the air with the sudden, extreme pressure differential.

The freighter came down hard on it's landing struts, the loading ramp coming open even before the ship had set down. A pair of droidekas rolling out from inside the ship. Their defensive shields went active the moment that the mantid-like battle droids unfolded themselves, unleashing heavy blaster fire into the hanger. The arriving Hatch were soon embroiled in a fire fight with the droideka's, tracking with the battle droids as the droid's side-stepped off to one side of the hangar.

Some tactics were just timeless.

This distraction was a strategy that Sor-Jan had been using since the Stark Hyperspace War, when he'd first come up with the idea on Manaan. It wasn't even original back then. It was something he'd seen on a holo-cartoon.

Reaching down, the youngling used his thumb to pop the securing strap off the top of the 376 blaster pistol that was slung low over his right though, allowing the strap to hang loose as the tow-headed boy crouched down on the loading ramp, peering through the landing struts.

The droideka's were drawing the Hatch's fire, just as intended. A BB unit, accented in blue, rolled alongside the youth, as he quietly slipped down out of the ship and into the hangar bay.

His mission was to slice into the Hatch computer mainframe in order to locate the queen, and then to provide that data to [member="Kurenai Yumi"] so that she could neutralize their primary target.

That, and they knew that the Hatch had been using the HoloNet to spread their sedition. But the Confederacy only knew what they'd discovered about that. Safe bet was the Hatch had made use of the Dark Net or used aliases on social media that may not have been as apparent. He needed to gather more intel about the Hatch use of the HoloNet in order to better understand what the cyber battlefield looked like.

 

[Anastasia Verd]

Aboard One of the Scimitars.

Rebellion on Confederacy space. Rebellions were a dangerous sort, their outcome could end in two ways. Either they were meaningless and would never amount to anything or it would spread like wildfire, encouraging others as their eyes were smudged with the beliefs of the original Rebels. Anastasia Vi'dreya was clasped in Obsidian Armor, head slightly lowered as she had listened to her Dad speak of the troubles that lay below. Rebellions are poison, she thought to herself as she listened, drawing from memories that weren't her. The first Rebellion her monster had faced had a start small, slow and then it had spread like wildfire, ultimately killing an Emperor. Not just any even, her Emperor, her Master. They brought the end of an Empire, rise of a Republic, build of another Order, fall of that order and another. It went on and on.

The deceased Emperor's Hand despised Rebels as much as she had despised the New Republic from all those centuries ago. Anastasia knew only from her memory how dangerous it was. And now, Dad was speaking of the plot against the Confederacy, of them all. Rebellions are poison, she thought again, her memories confirmed by what her Dad was saying.

She moved to the ramp. The armor against her flesh felt foreign, new. It wasn't the one she had always worn. The monster chose to remain in the Templar armor for the sole purpose of protection, not because she believed in the principles of the old Confederacy during which time Anastasia was born... created, her mind reminded her. Anastasia knew the truth about herself, knew she wasn't born like most others, knew she was truly never a child, no matter how real those memories of her childhood were. I was never a child. I'm a Knight, she reminded herself as she looked over the ramp with through her helm, watching to the destination below them.

"Knights Obsidian. Leave. None. Alive."

The task was clear. Her hand moved to the utility bet, both Ragnos and her knife were where they'd been held. After a moment, lunged forward, head going first into the abyss. If there was one thing Anastasia could be thankful for to the monster who had kept her captive was the knowledge and training she had left behind her. There was no fear, there was nothing but the calm before the fall, both literal and metaphoric. No fear, no hesitation. She was a Knight. While she was well aware of the fact that she had been created to be a child, a daughter, she was created to be a Knight, none the less. The first of her memories began with the Confederacy, with the Templars. Now, she was an Knight Obsidian. A natural progress, it would appear. The abyss waited for her now, the rebels would not see another dawn as the Knights completed their tasks.

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Nine Lives"] [member="Kurenai Yumi"] [member="Razelle Breuner"] [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Darth Rixas"] [member="Rylan Kordel"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]​

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

Objective: Matricide
CIS people: [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] - [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] - [member="Darth Tacitus"]
Peoples Nearby: [member="Razelle Breuner"] - [member="Kurenai"] Yumi
Gear: Operator Class Armor-ACS-202 Vanquisher-Light-saber Yari-

Kurenai let out a small sigh, it had seemed that this operation was void of any stealth, no sooner had she made silent headway into the lower tunnels had the sound of shoo[s and other craft echoed ahead. That would certainly rile up the natives, even more the what was already on hand with [member="Nine Lives"] going berserk not far from her position, but such was only the start of it. Followed promptly after the landing was a resounding orders to charge straight in and sweep the place top bottom, echos of blaster fire running down all the hallways.

She was unsure of why [member="Darth Tacitus"] employed such tactics, a cage animal was often the hardest to fight against, the more you pushed the more they would push back, the more despite they came. This often resulted into last ditch tactics that often would never be used, all in the bud to kill off as many enemy combatants as possible, and in this situations such was not a desirable issue to deal with. Unfortuntaly there was nothing she could do, the Viceroy and fleet commander? or something seemed to have an iron grip on command her, regular troops and Obsidian Knights following his orders like a strict law.

For all Kurenai knew not following said orders could be considered as treason, and considering what [member="Kiso"] had told her about the way the Shrouded Republic death with traitors, well it was not a very comfortable sigh. Not even her rank would save her from such a fate... not that it really mean anything to those she worked along side, the veteran solider may as well still just still be a mercenary under contract. "Thought for another day, just get this mission have and get back to base, but this new attack will just make things harder for me". No doubt as soon as fighting started the entire nest was no on alert, as such the Queen was most likely well guarded from any major attack, though maybe not a small one... silent assassination was still a possibility.

 

[Marek Starchaser]

This was one Force user who was not really up to snuff lately. Spending more time on his pleasure ships, and running illegal substances from point A to point B in style, the rogue Starchaser was making his rounds in the galaxy. The Confederacy, lead by his longtime mentor, Darth Metus, was doing what it always did, and that was fine. Marek didn’t need to be some galactic management company like the Alliance or First Order. The Confederacy was a Haven. Always was, every rendition of it.

The government had changed hands several times, but the key players always remained. It was home.

The one thing that did change, was the flavors, the way the Force was used. Marek was a hold out, an ancient relic on this government. He was there to lead the Obsidian Order by way of being in charge of the Techno Union, and he was there for the Templar Order, so many years ago. The Knights Obsidian was what they were being called now. And Marek was… well, he wasn’t sold on that deal.

He had heard that the call came out, a rebellion? This was the Confederacy. Planets could manage themselves. As the ship he was flying came into the system, he heard the call. Leave None Alive?

What kind of One Sith bantha poodoo was that? The Santhe Challenger ‘Flow’ had touched down and Marek stepped from the ship. Lightsaber in one hand, he surveyed the area. Several Hydra War Droids stepped out. “We need to protect the citizens.” It wasn’t the place of the Force users of the Confederacy to create war. The Obsidian Order quelled rebellions without full scale war.

The Templar, now they were different.

 

[Nine Lives]

Nine slashed through yet another shrieking Harch, her axe burying itself into its body as well, ripping a gouge into its neck, taking a mandible with it.

After a few moments of mindless slashing through the ferocious, savage defenders, who attacked her with Swords, she realized she was, in a sense, fighting something that no doubt had a method of feeding similar to hers. She did not begrudge the Harch this, for this was the result of evolution, not unholy rites and torture as it had been with her. But the sight of their fangs in the darkness of the chasm, the snarls and hisses of rage, reminded her too much of herself. It actually slowed her, allowing a Harch sword slice into her thigh, spilling lavender blood. She snarled, caught his second strike with her tomahawk, her sword edge burying itself into the Harch warriors face. The world was still slowed and that unfortunately allowed Nine to watch it all in slow motion. Poor bastard. He'd seen it coming. She knew enough about anatomy to know he wasn't quite dead yet. Her stomach wretched. Phantom pain from a useless organ. No vomit would come up, though perversely, she wanted it to sometimes. Poison and evil had to come out some how. Could not get drunk either.

A savage, wide swing of her tomahawk tore open another of the Harch's warriors as she advanced, beganning to push back and cut down the Spiders who dared to try and stand up to the tall woman, beginning to see just what it was her ancestors, those who practiced what most would say is the "True" Five Rings, had liked so much about all this, even as she was horrified by how natural it all was:

Smash your foes, give them the glorious kills of sword and oaths to Oni who shall feast on the flesh of their souls, and let their death cries travel to their loved ones!

It was the ancient mandate of Kain Li, later Kain Li-Ves, after he conquered the ancient assassin clan and made them swear fealty to him. Solo. Naked. With a Claymore. Nine thought that last bit was lies herself, though given the fact claymores were a distinct sub-school in the sword arts of her house, there may at least have been a little nugget of truth to the legends.

She force jumped over the swing of one static pike type weapon, landed on the elaborately carved floor of the chasm, spinning backward in time to catch the pike with the Tomahawk and run it through. His blood splashing her armor.

Did these poor guys deserve it? Nine wondered, slashing and hacking away at them again as she enhanced her speed and reactions with the Force.

She might have debated it more, had it been literally any other leader except [member="Darth Metus"]. But Metus was a Dark Lord. You betray a Dark Lord...how did you expect to work out? Do you have a lightsaber?Got the Force? Are your loins covered in Beskar, like the Vice Lord's probably was? Are you a Dark Lord also? If you answered to none of those, then why, why would you think you could do this and not receive this reaction?

She also suspected a political motive, it was not just mindless extermination of people who had not taken the hint the first time. With the silent, years long treachery that had eaten the GA within, it might not be the dumbest move to publicly show that you could crush a similar parasite before it could grow powerful enough to infect the whole body. And do it in such a way that any other parasites (Present company excluded of course) with similar aims to infect and ruin this haven of free thinkers would be shown zero mercy if caught and would not evade his notice the way they had the GA. And given her own paranoia about the Sith trying to pull something similar with the Confederacy, she had to concede that if that was the rationale, it was one she was finding difficulty arguing with.

Her ancestors would surely agree also. Instilling terror in the enemies you didn't even know about was sometimes necessary.

Million-Handed Collosus, since it was was made mostly of wintrium was not as heavy as other blades, thus it required extra effort to force the blade through flesh, though the tomahawk compensated to a degree by giving her the type of heft and crunch she was used to from a melee weapon, and as she cut down more of these people who had been foolish enough to play chicken, and worse, blinked, she found she was not so against this as she perhaps should have been.

Three attacked at the same time and Nine backpedaled away,

She took some of her blood, concentrated, then flicked it on the ground.

The Harch, drawn in by the psychic imprint of the stain calling out to them, let down their guard as they all focused on the spot it hit. Nine seized the opportunity and dashed forward, even as they broke the bloodstain's hold and raised their guards with sword and pike, Nine's katana had already bit through the abdomen of one traveled, its beyond razor sharp edge diving through their legs, and she brought the tomahawk down on them repeatedly, blood splashing on the strike armors strange face plate.

The Confederacy was her home, apart from Atrisia. And just because all this sickened her did not mean it was unnecessary. The treachery and determination of their foe was legendary. Messages needed sending.

Just try and pull those backstabs on us. We'll send freaky people in weird armor to dismember your sorry hide

 

[Katria Vekarr]

Location: Hellmouth Entrance​

Loadout: Check Bio Equipment Section​

​

She'd only heard tell of what had occurred upon Secundus Ando.

Yet, as the Vekarr's Pride came to rest in a low hang above the Scimitar landing grounds, the very thought slipped from her mind. Replaced in full with a signature stoicism that the brunette knew all too well. Metus' voice boomed through the comm tucked into her ear, the weight of her gear solidified her mission and she slowly approached the docking ramp as it lay open in a direct drop into the pit below.

Hooking up the drop cable, latching it tightly to her belt and the clip above her head, the brunette drew in a breath and thrust herself forward; a carefully orchestrated and controlled free fall towards the enemies that awaited below. She was met by a mix of the arid climate of the planet, the smell culminating in the pit below and the feeling of fervent determination consuming her. Her mission was clear and the others had already begin to make their mark.

Even before her feet touched down, mere moments of her descent, she deactivated her cloak and peered out into the crowd of Knights and soldiers to locate significant personnel. Scraping her boots against the ground, adjusting herself to the terrain, the young woman flicked against the vambrace on her right arm and unleashed the four drones into the air and into the depths of the cavern holding their plethora of enemies. Only then did she pull forth one of her verpine hand cannons and the Inferos Disruptor holstered on her back.

Words beyond her, her visage hidden beneath the hood and taozin amulet she wore, the brunette immediately opened fire on the Spirveralda that hadn't already been cut down. It was as she moved, however, that the method of her assault became clear. Shots rang out, but even as she fired she moved to utilize the armor she wore, a duck and a weave given grace by the litheness of the gear while the armor clad upon her arms and shins acted as a deterrent from attacks. Moving as if she each step determined her fate, none but the warriors at her back mattered to the half epicanthix.

It was as the enemies around her, including those cut down by the other Knights and soldiers, lay strewn dead that she finally came to a stop and turned her attention to locating the Vicelord. One drone watched her back, another the depths of the caves, the third the around around her and the forth the position of the Vicelord those closest to him. Lifting her left arm as the Vicelord approached, her posture reflecting the very stoicism she practiced, she raised her arm in a snap motion to an area in her would be blind spot and fired.

Eyes rising from the screen as her arm dropped, a dead Spirveralda crumbling behind her as she lowered her hand cannon, she lowered her hood and peered deeper into the caverns.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Darth Rixas"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

Gerwald Lechner was tasked with killing. It was his specialty. The giant of a man made his mark among the Knights as being ruthless and unmerciful with the enemy. Any that begged for their life would not find Gerwald's ears open to their pleas. Today was even more so an occasion to kill. The past weeks had been fraught with enough turmoil to make any shrink back from reality. There was one face that all the wretched beasts would wear today, and that was the one face Gerwald could not kill alone.

His armor was prohibitive, it would not allow it to change. Gerwald was going to have to talk to the Vicelord about something special, but first, he had to earn the right to request an audience. That was the Stewjon in him. As a Lupine, he should simply take what he wanted, but this was not his empire, and Katrine was not the ruler. Gerwald would not demand something that was not his to ask for. There was honor in proving one's worth, and today he would do just that.

As the voice of the Vicelord called over the comms, the wolf howled within. He was hungry for death, hungry for the kill. It needed to spill blood, and even more taste the blood of his enemies. Gerwald listened. He grinned, and as soon as it came time, he leaped to the ground below. He rushed to kill any that dare oppose him. The cave, the cavern, whatever this Hellmouth was, Gerwlad rushed in with no fear. They must kill the beast mother, but it would not be easy.

It seemed the wolf was hunting the spider...

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Darth Rixas"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Cezar Alexandrescu]

Location: Hellmouth Entrance
People Nearby: [member=Katria Vekarr], [member=Kurenai Yumi], [member=Sor-Jan Xantha], [member=Gerwald Lechner] and others.
Gear: Mini-Gamorrean Axe and Two purple single sabers
Outfit: Obsidian-type Strike Armor (The Look)

The mask came down her face. Securing it her helm, she listened Metus speak over comms. Gloved fingers grabbed and pulled the hood over her helm. Tilting her head side to side, new weight had to be measured before going out to handle the mess. Then the ax she so loved was attached to her back. As the sabers were attached to her belt, she felt off.

All around her, Cezar was in the Jensaarai temple. Her handmade armor was being examined by Defenders in the order. She stood nervously about the work being judged. Felt like she was naked, exposed to a crowd like those dreams people have about nudity in the classroom or workplace. Because this was five years of work, all of it being judged to see if she was worthy of becoming a Defender in the order. The nerves so worked up. Poor girl could easily lose her lunch right where she stood.

Right as she was about let her stomach appear in the air, everything snapped back to her current location. Cezar looked around to remind herself where she really was at. Hate was weak word to use to how she felt these flashes back to events in her life. The shock to her system always had her disoriented for a few moments.

Using the time to walk off the ship, she was letting the time be her recovery window. The hud in her helm was used to review the objectives that the Vicelord had laid out. The idea of going through bugs gave her ideas of what she could do. If it was the center, then more fighting which she loved. Being forced to fight young by cruel witches, the blood lust had formed.

Joining the others at the entrance, there were so many bugs that wanted to play, and Cezar had the toys. The right hand reached back and pulled out her ax. That was quickly used by throwing into a buggie’s body, and she went for the ax. Gripping the handle, she spun to use that momentum to strike another. It was only when being pushed back did she take a saber out. Using it to strike at the attacks made at her, the axe was joyfully used on the skulls of the ones she wanted to enjoy the sweet music of skulls breaking.

 

[Alwine Daye]

​

Location: Hellmouth Entrance
Tags: [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"], [member="Gerwald Lechner"], [member="Cezar Alexandrescu"] and others.
Gear: None
Weapons: None

​

Standing by her brother was Alwine Hilde Lechner. Unlike her brother or all others in the vicinity, she did not stand as a woman, or even a person. No. After months of being deprived from the ability to shift into her wolf form, after years of being suppressed and unable to live freely as the Lupine that she was, Alwine had vowed to never hold back again. No longer did she have a reason to bow her head, to mumble gently and quietly, to be submissive to those around her. The wolf that was her would never again be caged, and she would not shift into her human form unless she required verbal communication.

She was free.

And with this freedom came the ability to be who she was - a predator.

The wolf, ever so slightly larger than a cub, growled. She was small in all her forms, but her size could not truly limit her. She snarled then, the drool coming down her canines as her sensitive ears picked up the order they had all been given. Leave none alive. The reason did not matter. The politics did not interest her. All the wolf needed to know was that its muzzle no longer existed. Later, late she would rip the throats out of all those who had wronged her, mutilate the bodies of all she could in this vast new galaxy that she had been brought into. Later, she would claw her brother's face for leaving her stranded on Stewjon.

But now, she was here to kill.

The wolf released a howl.

Let the killing begin.

 

[Minerva Vessia]

​

Location: Walking the path leading to the Hellmouth​

[SIZE=11pt]Items: Deathmoiri Spider Silk Cloth, (8) Blackroots Potions, (8) Dathomiri Indivisibility Potions, Light-Shield Bracelet[/SIZE]​

​

​

The sounds of dirt and rock under boots echoed up the path. Minerva’s pace was in haste as she moved to a light jog. Behind her more Confederates were coming up the path. Up ahead of here were more where the entrance of the Hellmouth was located.

She thought over the clear orders of this objective, as moved on. What she was worried about was the terrain. She was unfamiliar to it. Here she was on another mission where she knew little and was expected to perform.

She just hoped she would be able to find the right place and time to bring some spell support.

​

​

[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"] [member="Gerwald Lechner'] [member="Katria Vekarr"] [member="Nine Lives"] [member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Kurenai Yumi"] [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] [member="Rylan Kordel'] [member="Darth Rixas"] [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Razelle Breuner"] [member="Alwine Lechner"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Rylan Kordel]

When Darth Metus' command had sounded, Rylan moved forward, allowing his senses to guide him, advancing down the dark hole, knowing full well the rest of the Knights were all around him and with him, he still felt alone and outnumbered, which was fine by him, it was how he was used to operating. Scanning each nook and cranny, the knight was being thorough in his search for the enemy and their tactics, after all, one didn't live long if they weren't careful to make sure they had full situational awareness, and in the deep dark of the Hellmouth, you really needed to be on top of your game.

"Spiders, it had to be spiders..." he grumbled to himself, just under his breath as to not draw too much attention from the others, he never cared for the natives of Secundus Ando, or any spiders really, it always seemed to lead to problems when he had dealings with the things. He started to mark the different off shoot paths from the main cavern, hoping to indicate to any of his fellow pathfinders the directions of where any possible attacks could come from, and also what roads to scout for the members of the other orders.

@[member='Darth Metus'], @[member='Minerva Vessia'], @[member='Gerwald Lechner'], @[member='Alwine Lechner'], @[member='Cezar Alexandrescu'], @[member='Katria Vekarr'], @[member='Nine Lives'], @[member='Marek Starchaser'], @[member='Kurenai Yumi'], @[member='Anastasia Vi'dreya'], @[member='Darth Tacitus']

 

[Nine Lives]

Nine sensed many of her fellow knights making their way to the chamber in their own good time. She had her own problems, mainly how the little fanged karks were trying to pull one of her moves and just straight up drop on her from above as her Katana parried a heavy blow which rattled her arms and she instinctively followed by crude blows from her hatchet, only to dash to the Side as her Force Sense reached out and tingled in the back of her skull as she felt three try and drop on her from above. It was all those times Nine had freaked out finding a spider had dropped on her shoulder from some ceiling, but ten times worse, because if a spider did it, it was because it was stupid. If a Harch did it, it was because it had planned to. It landed almost as silently as Nine had, who was now drenched in Harch blood, catching a blow with her axe and jamming the sword down the walking spiders throat, only to jump back as a nearby Harch tried to lunge and actually sink its fangs her. She leaped back with all the instinctive fright of knowing a spider wanted to bite you.

As [member="Darth Metus"] had put it best after deWinter had unknowingly horribly humiliated Nine by making her belt out everything from cheesy spy songs to pop:

Oh NO YOU DIDN'T! she thought bringing her sword down so hard in a rage that she cut the Harch completely in half, sending geysers of blood everywhere. Interestingly, despite having just cut through dozens of these so-called swordsman, dangerous only for their numbers and sneakiness, seeing one of theirs cut completely in half (The two pieces of him were still geysering!) appeared to be the moment where their courage seemed to finally fail them. They began an active running retreat from her, who sprinted after the fleeing spiders in total silence catching one by burying her tomahawk in its shoulder and then decapitation by katana.

She was tackled by one from above and screamed in terrified surprise as she had to force its fangs away from her throat, dropping her weapons temporarily.

Nine snarled in rage under the strange visor the armor had come with, stained with Harch blood.

The purple electric tinge from her fingers erupted into a lightning like purple stream that channeled into the Harchfrom her fingers to its chest. It tensed, getting musccle spasms and migraines as she grabbed her axe and buried it in the Harch's head repeatedly. She flung it away once she was sure it was dead and not going to bite her.

Nine staggered up, grabbed her sword, and continued east, helping nearly overwhelmed knights in other parts of this haven for the fanged, a haven for Natural Vampires slicing them apart by sneaking up while they were too busy with other knights obsidian. Her armor dripped Harch blood as she began to sense she was getting closer to the queen. As she twisted into one wide passage, she spotted Harch with blasters.

Nine flicked a spray of bolts away with her wintrium katana with the Force. She strained, trying to call on magic as she got behind cover, but the Harch warriors advanced.

Nine crawled up the wall of the chasm quickly using her adhesion based telekinesis. Her sword came out as the Harch rounded a corner, automatically opening fire where the thought she was. She landed on top of the leader, crushing his head into paste with her boots and used him to bound off, slicing through other Harch as she twirled over them landing behind and slashing into the surprised Harch with speed and efficiency, no wasted moves on flourishes or gestures. Kill and move on, as her father taught.

 

[Zhai'ellev]

Location: The Hellmouth​

Attention: [member="Darth Metus"]​

Soundtrack: The Offspring “Half Truism”​

Post: 1​

She stood just behind him and to his left, her presence passed over by so many of those assembled. It was a talent, the art of disappearing in plain sight, acquired over the twenty years she’d spent as a slave. If a slave was unseen, they were generally not abused. Keeping to the shadows was a difficult habit to break after so long, but Metus had seen to her freedom and continued to guide her afterwards. She owed him a debt she would never be able to repay.

Zhai dragged a hand over her face, remembering at the last moment not to smear the dark pigment swathed across her eyes. It rendered her no aid, but it marked her as a warrior akin to an ancient story she discovered in the Archives. She breathed deeply of the air of Secundus Ando, half closing her eyes as she let the scents in the arid air roll across her senses. There was so much to feel; so many intricate threads interwoven with despair and fear that she could all but taste of each of them.

Her exhalation was long and slow, as measured as her inhalation had been, utilizing a technique she’d been taught to collect her thoughts. It was all well and good to explode with ferocity upon the battlefield, but the trick was to enter it with thought and determination. That…she was working on. Having supped at the table of power the Spirits offered to her, it was still difficult for her to be less than overwhelmed with the myriad of sensations her newly woken senses were now privy to.

Metus had taken her under his wing and had helped her upon the path she now trod. She would sooner see her own limbs torn from her body than to risk his disappointment.

​

"We will not suffer Rebellion within our borders."​

​

"Knights Obsidian. Leave. None. Alive."​

Zhai’ellev stepped forward, drawing even with Metus and sparing a glance to course across his features. A smile stole across her features, her expression changing to match one he would recognize not only from their training, but also from the day he’d found her on Ryloth. There was nothing that needed to be said, so she simply nodded in acknowledgement of his words and stepped down off the ramp. She called out softly to the spirits, the sound in stark contrast to the burst of speed the Force granted to her as she ran forward and joined the fray. Her style was not as graceful or polished as so many of the others…it was harsh and brutal; violence made manifest in every strike.

​

[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Minerva Vessia"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Cezar Alexandrescu"] | [member="Gerwald Lechner"]​

[member="Katria Vekarr"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Darth Rixas"]​