Invasion Kingdom Come: BotM Invasion of TSE Held Thule

[Darth Solipsis]

Kingdom Come

OOC THREAD
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Site Admin: Valiens Nantaris​

BotM Staff​	TSE Staff​
Darth Solipsis	Arctus Silmar
The Mongrel	Valen Arenais
Kyrel Ren	Cara Dorniarn
Maestus	Darth Strosius
	Pom Stych Tivé
	Telis Taharin-Zambrano

​

Thule. A hidden Sith fortress world and safe redoubt on the western reaches of the Stygian Caldera, long bathed in the luminous glow of the Dark Side of the Force, called to them invitingly. Steeped in legend and myth, the culture of the world was one of utter loyalty and dedication to the Sith Order, its people long swearing loyalty to those of Sith lineage throughout the millennia.

In his path to power, the mighty Master of the Knights of Ren takes the first step in securing the favor of the Heathen Priests and taking his revenge on the Sith with a bold plan for a grand invasion of the planet’s surface. It is a chance to spirit away Sith artifacts, Imperial technology, and indoctrinated slaves to bolster the ranks for the coming tidal wave of violence that awaits the galaxy proper. The Heathen Priests deem the Sith Empire unworthy of the legacy of the Avatars and demand blood. The Dark Side must be concentrated! It must be pure and unfettered!

Leading the barbaric hordes of the Hidden Maw across the galaxy, targeting a world deeply connected to his enemies, Kyrel Ren makes a statement in blood and terror upon his long time rivals with blessings of the Heathen Priests and the mighty Voice himself. The Dark Voice, secretly the newly self-proclaimed Dark Lord of the Sith, sees an opportunity to seize artifacts of ages past in his efforts to propagate the New Sith Order’s rise and purge the weakness from the Sith Order. Giving the Knights of Ren and the Warlords of the Maw access to anything they need, a brutal call to arms is made. Praise be the Dark Three! May the Avatars grant us victory. Rip and Tear until it is done!

A world scoured of its inhabitants by the Sith Lord Carnifex, the once-bustling planet Thule lies silent and dead the the heart of Sith Empire space. The world’s corpse has barely cooled, and already the scavengers have come to feed on its carrion. The Brotherhood of the Maw, greedy for dark power, seeks to claim the treasures of the ancient Sith from the Great Ziggurat of Hurom. In turn, the Sith Empire seeks to defend their ancient sacred site.

​

Thule’s asteroid moon is home to an ancient Sith military base, rebuilt and upgraded by the modern Sith Empire. With Thule itself depopulated, the Sivvi installation is the primary defensive outpost in the system, and it remains a formidable one. In order for the Brotherhood of the Maw’s raids on Thule and Enenpa to succeed, they must engage this center of Sith power and prevent it from reinforcing the other planets in the system.

The forested world of Enenpa holds no civilian settlements, but lumber camps and strip mines dot its surface, extracting the necessary resources to feed the Sith Empire’s war machine. The Brotherhood of the Maw has sent a raiding force to capture some of these resource shipments and feed their dark crusade instead… but among the haunted, scarred forests of Enenpa, they could just as easily become prey for the deadly Sith.

 

[The Mongrel]

Objective III - Resource Raid​

Location: Enenpa, Industrial Depot Outskirts
Allies: Open
Foes: Open | UX-0626

Hidden among the pale, sickly woods at the edge of the timber harvesting zone, The Mongrel stared out at one of the Sith Empire's sprawling industrial depots. Between him and the electrified perimeter fences lay a vast swathe of deforestation; the shattered stumps of culled trees stuck up from the cracked earth like broken bones poking through the skin. A sluggish, yellow-brown river wound its way past the far side of the compound, choked with ore slurry from the strip mines further north. The light that filtered down through the smog overhead was weak and oddly tinted, and the air itself tasted metallic. His lungs already ached, and his head throbbed.

Even so, a cruel smile was creeping across his scarred face.

Ever since their dire losses at Csilla and Ilum, the Brotherhood had been struggling to recover its industrial momentum. The great galactic powers they faced had entire clusters of worlds devoted to military production, enabling them to rapidly replace fleets and equipment. The Maw was growing, spilling out from the Nihil Retreat to spread its darkness across the Unknown Regions and beyond... but it could not yet come close to matching such resources. Even with the taskmasters working the slaves until they literally dropped, it was taking a long, long time for the Brotherhood to regain its strength.

Strength was an urgent need; they'd made new enemies at Csilla.

Part of the problem was raw materials. Although they had conquered some worlds where resources were abundant, extracting those resources took time and labor. Nor could a bloodthirsty assemblage of raiders and cultists simply make a contract with corporations to make up the difference; who would be willing to deal with such degenerates? And so the Brotherhood had returned to its old ways, from when it had been a nomadic pirate fleet at the edge of the galaxy: it had dispatched raiders to steal resources from others, neat pallets and crates of raw materials that had already been extracted and processed.

It was such a raid that had brought The Mongrel and his warband of Bloodsworn to Enenpa. He did not understand the strange relics that the Dark Voice and his favored servants hoped to gain from the ruins of Thule, nor why they had come halfway across the galaxy to strike at this particular system; the secret of the New Sith Order and their plan to dominate the Sith tradition was not knowledge that he was privy to. But he did understand the purpose of a raid, and he knew how to execute a good one. The burning of Felucia's farms had been an excellent warm-up, and a welcome return to the simple, early days of Batuu and Jakku.

Now he was primed for his greatest raid yet.

"Distribute the smoke launchers," the veteran marauder commanded, ensuring that the weapons were handed out evenly down the line. "Are the riders and runners prepared?" A terse nod told him all that he needed to know. Smuggling their secret weapon, the key to their raid, onto Enenpa's surface had almost been more trouble than it was worth. The creatures were vicious, unruly, and perpetually hungry... but it would all be worth it when he saw them unleashed. "Then we are prepared. Take positions." The Bloodsworn fanned out through the trees, keeping to the cover of thin, weak branches and drooping leaves.

The Sith had poisoned Enenpa with their frenzied industry... but The Mongrel was not the kind of man to care. After all, he was among those who had killed a world and rejoiced in its slaughter.

"Now," the warleader commanded, and two dozen smoke grenades shot out from the treeline. Thick grey plumes spewed out of them where they fell, rapidly obscuring the center of the harvested ex-forest between the diseased forest and the industrial depot's outer fence. "War! Death! Rebirth!" The Mongrel hissed the familiar chant, and heard it in response. Then the slime runners took off, thermal goggles helping them to dash through the smoke without twisting an ankle, picking their way through the broken stumps as fast as their legs could carry them. Behind each runner came sixty tons of raging muscle.

The Brotherhood's Bogaranth Cavalry had been deployed.

With each step, the hulking bogaranths turned huge stumps into piles of wood chips. They strained their buglike heads toward the runners, trying to catch them up in their vicious mandibles, while the riders astride them desperately pulled at their reins and struck them with shock whips; it would not do to have them devour the runners too early, for they were stupid, quarrelsome beasts, and could easily end up feuding among each other rather than trampling and ripping apart the enemy. But when they struck those fences and tore open a hole into the heart of the depot, laying bare the warehouses for plundering...

Then all the trials of transporting them would be worth it.

And so the depot guards got their first glimpse of the ravening Maw hordes when a small line of frantic marauders, gasping to draw air into their burning lungs, burst from the wall of smoke... followed shortly by six hulking beasts of nightmare, each large enough to flip over a hovertank in a single charge. Behind the "cavalry", The Mongrel gave the signal. "Break open their warehouses and plunder their vaults! For the Avatars!" The Bloodsworn raiders thundered across the poisoned plain, ready to burst through the gap that the bogaranths would surely open. Even an electrified fence would not stop them...

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Objective II: Hold Off Imperial Response​

Location: Thurra System, Approaching Sivvi
Allies: Open
Foes: Open

Space itself blurred, and the ragtag Brotherhood raiding fleet emerged at the edge of the Thurra system. Leading the akk-wolf pack was the Star Dreadnought Fatalis, gliding among the stars like a colossal, spacefaring brith. The Maw flagship still bore the scars of battle earned above Csilla, where the Alliance and NIO fleets had nearly succeeded in tearing it apart. The repairs made in Osseriton's orbital shipyards had been quick and ugly, but they were sound; the mighty craft was ready for battle again. It would have to be. Its task was to lead the blockade of Sivvi, the heart of the Sith Imperial presence in the system, until the other raids could be completed.

Behind the Fatalis came the few other vessels that the Brotherhood, badly depleted by its recent struggles, could still spare. A pair of Crucifix I-class Star Destroyers, the Crimson Offering and the Severing Blade, had also survived the struggle at Csilla relatively intact, but they represented the entire remainder of capital ships that could be spared. Their escorts were mere frigates, vessels from the Namadii Corridor campaign of systematic piracy that had been hastily refitted for the raid on Thule. This small assemblage, along with the fighters and fighter-bombers they carried, would have to be enough. They simply could not commit more.

Perhaps the Athysians, or Sularen's irregulars, could reinforce them... but they could not afford to count on it, nor on receiving enough reinforcement to stand up to the full might of the Empire's defenses.

Fortunately, the Sith Empire was likely to be distracted. They had been engaged on multiple fronts by powerful enemy governments, each determined to chip away at Imperial territory. It was the inevitable consequence of being so dominant for so long, possessing power and influence that others grew to envy. The Brotherhood's hope was that, with foes old and new circling the Sith, they would not have the time or resources to send a vast defense fleet after every little raid. It was a dangerous gamble, however; they were placing their heads in the rancor's mouth, and if their hoped-for distraction failed... it was best not to think about it.

Aboard the Fatalis, seated once again in the command throne, Taskmaster Tu'teggacha guided his motley little flotilla into position. He had little desire to be thrust once more into the role of fleet commander, but with the Brotherhood's resources and personnel stretched to the breaking point, there was no other he trusted to command the Maw flagship. He had kept it safe before, more or less, and he planned to do so again. After all, he did not need to win here; indeed, he doubted there was any hope of completely routing the formidable Sith military installation on Sivvi. All he had to do was keep the base from deploying troops to counter the raiders.

"Assume blockade formation," the Ebruchi commanded, and the five ships drifted into an inverted wedge (almost a semicircle) with the Fatalis at the center and back. They were forming a broad shield that they intended to park above the Sivvi moonbase, ensuring that no transport or warship could slip out past them. Of course, it was all too possible that Sith fleet elements were already in the system, perhaps on patrol... Sith-Imperial discipline was impressive, and it would not surprise the Taskmaster if they kept up diligent sweeps of each planet's orbit. If that turned out to be the case, they might have a fight on their hands right away...

... and any danger to the blockade was a grave danger for the other raiders.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Approaching Sivvi
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Approaching Sivvi
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Approaching Sivvi
Festering Wound, a Nebulon K-class Frigate	Approaching Sivvi
Born of Ashes, a Skor III-class Artillery Frigate	Approaching Sivvi

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Enenpa, the Bloodwood
Objective III.: Finish the dance with Zachariel
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Zachariel Steelblood

[ Solitude ] ​

Another planet where Ingrid was trying to find out how she could bring back her dead husband. Exceptionally, neither the NIO nor the GA planned the attack, yet the Empress had to sneak out of her own realm again. Kessia remained home now, as if she were Ingrid, and in the meantime, the red-haired woman could work calmly on her own affairs. The Maw, again the Maw.

First Batuu, then Csilla, and now this. Although this did not fully affect the Eternal Empire, the woman was here searching for clues, so she still had a connection. For a moment she remembered one of her acquaintances who had joined Maw. Zachariel. They were once allies in the AoC, and have since become enemies. They met several times, different time planes mingled in it all, will he still be here now? Wanting to end the fight, the man knew what the woman really was.

And that was a secret that could not be revealed. The red-haired woman was close to the buildings when the invasion began. She ran silently, imperceptibly, and invisibly past the buildings, straight in the direction of the forest. The sensors in her armour showed signals from there. She is looking for a long-lost relic. Something that shows traces and brings progress. When he was already in the woods, she suddenly sensed a familiar Force Signature. Steelblood!

~ Mr. Steelblood! What a pleasant surprise! If you have the courage to face me, I look forward to making a point at the end of our case in the woods… ~ her message telepathically and she tried to leave a mark on the man's mind, which if the man followed, he would find the woman.

 

[Subject 54 Havoc]

Location: Approaching Sivvi
Objective: 2, hold off Imperial Response
Allies: Attackers, BOTM, Tu'teggacha , Open
Enemies: Defenders, TSE, Open

Havoc stood in the command center on the Fatalis Dreadnought. Nearby sat Taskmaster Tu'teggacha on a command throne, guiding the fleet into position. Havoc watched through viewscreens as the small Maw fleet maneuvered its way into position, intent on blockading the base. He continued to watch as the vessels moved into position.

Ever since their success over Csilla, Havoc had definitely secured a spot within the Maw, and flew up within their ranks. Since he had been the one in command of the Mercy superweapon, and because of the success of the mission, he had proved to the Maw that he was extremely capable of following through with his missions, and ensuring that they were completed. This had apparently been well-received by Maw leadership, and so when he was offered another mission, with considerably better benefits such as better payment, he just couldn't refuse.

"Assume blockade formation,"

Havoc typed away on his console. "Activating blockade protocol Delta-1-1-Niner," Havoc reported as he got to work. He typed at his console, and pushed a lever forward. "Gravity well projector online." He reported. Havoc continued to type away, pressing buttons and pulling levers. He would also check the other systems of the ship, making sure that they were online and fully-powered up.

"Electronic countermeasures are online. We're attempting to jam their sensors and communications now." Havoc said to the Taskmaster. "All systems are fully functional. Weapons are primed and ready for firing. Shields are active and currently at full power."

"Sir, I recommend that we bombard the base," He suggested. "With the combined firepower of our Destroyers and frigates, and even our bombers, we could deal a quick and possibly devastating first strike to the enemy base."

They would have to strike fast, there was no telling if the base had called for reinforcements or not, or if they had succeeded in jamming their communications.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW

xxxThulexxx
“The Doomvault”
​

The Ommin-class shuttle screamed through the black vacuum of space with a mute roar as it descended toward the planet below. Thule, secret redoubt of the Sith long held from the eyes of the galaxy and recently it’s entire populace of loyal souls scrubbed off the face of the planet. They would find no slaves or civilians here other than those they broke from the Sith military. This planet was dead, it’s significance only in the relics left behind and it’s strategic importance to Sith-Imperial supply lines.

To attain victory here would be a monumental setback for those of the old order, those who’s weakness the Dark Lord found to be undeserving of the new era that approached. Only the strong would survive here, the weak would be discarded and the Sith would emerge from the gauntlet stronger whether any wished to admit it or not.

On approach to the Great Ziggurat of Hurom, the pilot of the shuttle would engage stealth features and cloaking to avoid any anti-air emplacements from the Sith-Imperial military that were bound to be ready for the War Fleet assembled at their doorstep. The shuttle pierced the veil, splitting the clouds apart like a stage curtain as it soared through the crackling sky. Lightning flashed, arching around them as the thunder boomed in a momentous roar. Clear as day on the horizon cam the object of their attention, their destination and capital of Thule, Hurom.

The Dark Lord of the Sith sat in the shadow of the vessel’s rear, his decrepit hands gripped loosely around his walking stick as the shuttle shook and rumbled from the turbulent atmosphere of Thule in the wake of the savage storm overhead. He closed his eyes for a brief moment feeling the echo of a shatter point approaching, images flooding into his mind as his eyes opened wide. With a savage hiss the Dark Lord looked on at those within his shuttle and growled as he strapped himself in, “It would be most wise to secure yourselves.”

The Co-Pilot looked back in a puzzling manner as the ship was suddenly rocked by a radical hit from a nearby jolt of lightning. The powerful state-of-the-art shuttle found itself powered down as all systems went dark. The starship stalled out and plummeted down with intense speed toward the city of Hurom on a collision course with the massive duracrete wall outlining the fortress-city.

The Dark Lord closed his eyes and reached out through the empyrean energies and grasped the void. With immense strain and tremendous effort, the vessel began tilting upward straightening their free fall to a more suitable crash landing as the pilots did what they could to steer and restore power.

Groaning metal and savage vibrations took hold over the shuttle, the realization came that there was no stopping the shuttle’s descent. The controlled landing would be the best outcome as they were certain to crash into the streets below near the base of the Great Ziggurat. Pressing against the forces of nature and indomitable force of gravity, the Dark Voice pushed, slowing the vessel until it met with the earth below in a spectacular crash landing as it skid across the pavement and tore a long trench of it’s own open in the earth.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective //: History Repeats //:
//: Target //: Maestus //:
//: Allies //: TSE //: Alina Tremiru //:
Come out and play, cause I need a friend

One step at a time, Quinn allowed herself to be consumed by the dark side of the Force once again. The warmth of the light she had once felt while hiding on Eshan was long gone, replaced by the cold embrace of the shadows. Furthermore, the Varanin progeny felt a sense of fulfillment the deeper she let herself fall. It was a foolish endeavor to try and change. The path she walked now felt right.

She hated it, but it was the only way to save someone she cared for.

The sound of dead twigs cracking under her steps hid the sound of the cracking bones as the Princess’s wrist twisted. She could feel the power of the dark side swirling in her core, the negative emotions of the world and the invaders. Like her mother, she used the feelings of those around her to fuel the dark side. Quinn manipulated them as protection from the influence of the darker arts. The Brotherhood were foul creatures, born to destroy, and with their latest destructive victory, there was enough emotion to fuel thousands.

Quinn stopped and inhaled deeply, she could feel the small battles that clashed around her, but something else drew her attention. A protective nature loomed close, and she relaxed, exhaling her relief. A smile broke the emotionless gaze as she recognized the aura that loomed near her. The Vampiress was never too far behind the Echani Princess; it was a comfort that Quinn tried hard to not get used to. She didn’t want to become dependent on another as she had done in the past. “I’ll be fine.” She spoke to no one in particular, hoping that Alina wouldn’t worry or wander too far.

The brief pause allowed her to tighten her defenses, knowing that they would soon be engaging the enemy. Her amber gaze focused on her hand, her palm twitched, fingers elongating from the relaxed state. She focused harder, finally seeing the sparks of electricity that had eluded her for some time. The energy sparked a light blue, but the tendrils grew thicker and deeper in color. Her smile widened, feeling the power surge through her once more.​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Defeat the Brotherhood
Location: Enenpa
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE/EE
Enemies: BotM
Tags: Quinn Varanin | Maestus | TK-818

A half smile formed. The Vampiress stood among the trees, casually leaping from one branch to the next. She wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to follow Quinn, but she had. The battlefield was vast, yet here she was, near a hundred feet away from the Princess. All to try and keep her safe. Or at least try to. The Brotherhood was coming, and war was unpredictable on the ground against far more predictable foes.

Or, perhaps, it was more a sense of obligation. It was Alina that had brought her back into the darkness. The selfishness of choosing to hide in the comfort of the shield she'd made to protect herself from the horrors of the Sith left her too vulnerable to just escape. She wanted nothing more than to run with Quinn and escape the hole she'd dug herself.

She was too deep to see the light.

So here she was, watching Quinn from afar. Hoping to protect the last of the light within the Varanin so one day they could leave together. Her smile had all but faded as she watched the sparks form before looking up and around. War was coming. Sentiment had no place on the battlefield. The lessons she learned constantly trying to hammer their way back into her mind and force her forward on the path she'd made. Her grip on her lightspear tightened.

"Stay safe."

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Bloodwoods
Objective: Steal everything and fight Ingrid
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim
Weapons: Sword | Axe​

The industrial logging and mining sites of Enenpa spread far and wide throughout the Bloodwood forests. Simple logging areas with vast swathes of empty land, to great tunnels of mining, it was all to be found here. And all of that meant resources, resources the Brotherhood desperately needed to fuel its war machine, resources needed to continue their eternal crusade. Luckily enough for the Brotherhood, the fools who ran these things had several large complexes perfect to be raided. One such complex was already being attacked by The Mongrel , followed by his section of the Bloodsworn. They would plunder much in the name of the Maw and Zachariel. Another complex was being targeted by Zachariel himself, who led his own contingent forward. And a third complex was being targeted by another group, not to mention any other complexes being hit, though this was a mixed force. Still, even there he had exerted some influence, making sure his warriors would lead the attack and then take the best for themselves and more weapons of war.

But those other complexes, regardless of how close they truly were, mattered little to Zachariel. Instead he was focused on his own objectives, on taking this complex and all the resources that were to be found within. Standing within the forests around the complex, Zachariel could see the marauders smashing through the fences on various mounts, screaming dark praises. It was a good sight, one replicated all over the complex, though the guards were already returning fire, disciplined even in the face of such a mad horde. And it only served to invigorate the Bloodsworn, who simply continued to charge forth towards and into the complex. They would take everything, from the valuable ores and wood, to any useful slaves they could capture.

It all brought a wry grin to Zachariels face as he stalked around the perimeter, eying everything with keenly. Often enough, Zachariel would be leading the charge, however he wasn't just a mindless brute, but a cunning warlord that wanted to see this plan work fully. Narrowing his eyes as he saw a weakness not being exploited, he turned to a marauder with a comms unit.
"Tell a squad to force the gap at..." His thoughts stopped as he heard the mental message from Ingrid. Her message brought a savage grin to Zachariel's face, even as he turned in the general direction of where she was located. "Tell a squad to force the gap there, between that tree and the tower. My Chosen will be in charge for the rest, I have something else I must see too."

Without even bothering to wait for a response, Zachariel made his way towards Ingrid. In response, the Chosen who had accompanied him simply bowed and turned towards the complex, setting about completing the mission their lord and master had given to them. The comms officer himself also bowed before relaying Zachariel's orders, not that Zachariel saw or heard any of it. His newfound focus was solely on Ingrid, who he managed to respond to with some trouble.
"Lady Ingrid, I'm so glad we could meet once more! Perhaps this time we can finish what we started last time."

He was a ways away from where Ingrid had indicated, but he steadily neared the location. Soon enough reached the location, stalking past another tree and into view of Ingrid. Appearance wise, little had changed of him, aside from a handful of new skulls and screaming heads to adorn his armor. The Force also showed little change, aside from his cunning side having taken the forefront partially. And all in all, a dark joy could be sensed from Zachariel as he spotted Ingrid, one that wanted the battle just as much as the blood, if not more. With his weapons still on his back, Zachariel chuckled as he eyed Ingrid, before he called out in a rumbling bass of enjoyment.
"I'm so glad to see you once more, it has been far too long."

 

[TK-818]

Tags: Maestus | Quinn Varanin | Alina Tremiru​

The airstream split in the screaming wake of the Vornskr class as it rode the sonic gale over the expansive sea of trees and flora below. A sudden brake on the accelerator as thrusters and repulsorlifts roared to life, slowing the bellowing beast. The jet black razor edged infiltration ship came to a screeching halt and slowly descended into the tree line where it could make room for landing. Breaking off branches and pushing aside bushels of leaves the vessel scorched against the bark of a nearby tree, scoring it deep as it began to cinder.

Hovering just above the surface, the side doorway opened and a small ramp extended outward just above the surface. The first to step off was the Knight of Ren, TK-818 , who landed amidst the forest floor with heavy boots. Digging deep into the soil as he landed, rising to a straight stature the Knight of Ren gazed off at his surroundings as the roar of the vessel drowned out all noise around him. Twirling his poles beskar alloy vibrio-halberd he stood at the ready as any others unloaded before the vessel took off once more in a virtuous scream.

The silent warrior turned his dark gaze toward the Sith nearby, the one known as Maestus . His head tilted in a slight puzzling motion, not particularly fond any Sith at conflict with his master @Kyrel Ren’s claims to power. A hand gestured out into the expanse, motioning for the Sith Warlord to take the lead.

Ladies first.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Enenpa, the Bloodwood
Objective III.: Finish the dance with Zachariel
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Zachariel Steelblood

[ Solitude ] ​

Ingrid received an answer from Zachariel almost immediately. It was surprising that the Maw was here on the planet, it was so far from their territory, though she knew they maintained a large fleet and travelled from world to world. Felt each step as the man approached, in the Force it was perfectly felt. And after a while, it can be heard as Steelblood was quite large and probably won't be sneaking.

It was an open invitation to dance. She looked in the direction the man had come from, stood speechless and motionless, waiting for the man to arrive. As always, she still had a royal posture, though now she was not wearing a coat and uniform, but an assassin armour that was blending into the environment. The Empress didn’t activate a camouflage, so she didn’t disappear completely, but she might have been hard to spot from a distance. She’s been through a lot lately in the captivity, but they haven’t broken her.

As for the man, he was one of the few whom the woman respected and considered as a worthy opponent. And Zachariel finally arrived. She greeted him with a nod, but still didn't move. Waited for the man to speak first; hadn’t reached for her weapons yet, there was still something she wanted to know because the relationship between the two of them was very strange and chaotic. Ingrid looked through the new armour, then spoke.

"The feeling is mutual, Mr. Steelblood, but I would have some questions before we start to dance. Surely you also know that when we last met, from your point of view, I didn’t know why you joined Maw, but you already experienced our meeting at the Netherworld, which happened to me later. I think the time planes have settled by now and we are both in the present. What happened then in the Netherworld? That chaos is not part of that world, it is unnatural!"

 

[UX-0626]

Location: Industrial Depot - Enenpa
Allies: TSE │ EE
Enemies: BotM ( The Mongrel )
Direct Opposition: The Mongrel

Her Father’s Empire was beset on all sides once again, and it was her duty to fight to fight for it. Where once, she had fought in a tentative alliance with the marauders of the Brotherhood of the Maw on Csilla, now those very same savage raiders came for Thule and Enenpa, worlds which had been cleansed by her Eternal Father. Nevertheless, those of the Kainate still contributed to their defense, though there were yet whispers of withdrawal and even leaving the Empire to its fate. Even so, until or if that day came, UX-0626 was prepared to fight to the last, whether it be the last order delivered from a superior before a formal retreat back to Malsheem or her last breath of life.

Having fought alongside the Brotherhood before, UX-0626 had initially expected hordes of Moon Children, insane clones which were as expendable as they were guileless, sent to soften the defensive lines of the combined Imperial Legion and Kainate Defense Force troops en masse. As such, the initial sensor readings of towering beast cavalry were unexpected, but not unprepared for. However, if the marauders at the outskirts truly were led by the Mongrel himself, who had by now developed a strong reputation owing to his tactical creativity and feats in engaging Force users, often while vastly underequipped, he would have yet more tricks up his sleeve to play.

To say the least, there was a lingering feeling that the day could not be won without defeating him. If the whispers of his feats were true, she didn’t think it would be as easy as shooting him from a kilometer away through a scope.

Nevertheless, UX-0626 reacted quickly, having moved to a sniper’s perch where a HAMR-01 awaited her. A full magazine had been loaded into the massive rifle, in addition to two extras placed next to the weapon, for a total of thirty shots. The comparatively smaller and more mobile disruptor rifle was dropped to the side, for the time being, to be picked back up when she needed to make her escape.

Immediately, UX-0626 sighted the weapon, taking advantage of her helmet’s imaging systems to peer through the deployed smoke. Having never faced the Bogranths before, she did not prioritize targeting the runners sprinting ahead of the creatures, not yet knowing their crucial role as bait. Instead, she opted to aim the legs of the beasts, seeking to immobilize them.

Before long, she found her shot.

As she had done many times before, her breath was held taut in her chest. Then, she squeezed the trigger, sending a massive, 20mm round from the barrel of the rifle, intent upon delimbing one of the foul creatures before it could get up to speed. Not wasting any time, the sniper immediately shifted her sights to another Bogranth, regardless of the outcome of her first shot, then fired again, aiming for the creature’s left hindleg...

Spoiler: Loadout

• "Taral" Sith Trooper Armor - Designation: UX-0626
  • Undersuit
    • UL-14 “Virtus” Class Underlay
  • Left Wrist
    • ACS-207 CryoBan Gun
    • Vac Attack Mk-127 Disc Launcher
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Pink Vapor
  • Right Wrist
    • Wide Beam Sonic Stunner
    • Dur-24 Wrist Laser
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Nagnol Gas
  • Energy Shield
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Boots
    • Whimsy Knife
• Hekler’Kok HAMR-01 - Temporary Battle Pickup
• X8-H “Endgame” Elite Disruptor Rifle - Temporarily Set Aside
• FAE/M-01 “Scherezade” Energized Vibroblade (2)
• Impact Grenade (2)

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• UX-0626 fires two shots from a Hekler’Kok HAMR-01 at two Bogaranths, aiming for the legs of each target.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

The Shaper watched with cold, stoic eyes from the peak of the Great Ziggurat. Seated upon a makeshift throne with Acharn gripped in his right hand. The long sprear's blunt end resting on the ground while the Whilstones enhanced his sight to gaze upon one shuttle in particular. He could feel the presence of Darth Solipsis all too clearly and while it would not have been all too great a strain to attempt to make their landing less pleasant, The Shaper instead rose to his feet with a soft grunt. Leaning on the spear a bit as he still felt the effects of his efforts on Vjun. The great expense and channeling of power through his mortal shell had cost him, enough so that he had not fully recovered. Even with his Whilstones working to stabilize his body and spirit, the toll it had taken upon him left deep, dark veins sinking into the flesh of his skin. Gnawing away at him like a million biting insects as he channeled darkness so profound and deep, for so long, that mortal flesh could not stand before it. But.... his body was not the only thing showing signs of wear.

Even here at the Great Ziggurat the defenses were.... minimal. Understaffed one might say. But an Empire beset on three fronts, and soon to be more if his spies in the Alliance were anything to go by, they were spread far too thin to make this ancient bastion what it SHOULD be. Troopers made use of second-hand weaponry, most of them without sufficient ammunition to sustain a prolonged firefight. While others lacked grenades or heavier weaponry for their squads. Even so the men and women of the Empire stood defiant, unyielding against this third vulture to the carrion feast. Like so many undeserving, usurping Sith of the past they only struck their Master in groups. Too weak to directly confront them alone. Like the Alliance, like the Imperial Order.

The Shaper had heard various reports on this Solipsis, on the meeting he had held between the various factions of the Sith, of which he did not attend. It was a lesson in futility. The enemies of the Sith had made themselves known, openly and proudly, and so it fell upon deaf ears for him to discuss anything with those who did not have the strength to act or, even worse, more foolishly strike other Sith in a repetition of the same mistake the less wise of them had made for millennia. Those unable to take power stole it, after all. and The Shaper could not help but find this Solipsis a hypocrite. Preaching the dilution of the Sith, of how wrong it was for the weak to overthrow the strong by numbers.... and yet here he was the third in line to do so. Sickening.

Waiting until the dust settled from their 'landing' and the battle to begin in earnest did The Shaper nonetheless reach out to this new 'Dark Lord'. Dry, unimpressed melancholy for the men in every syllable of every word he conveyed. "I shall await you, Darth Solipsis, at the peak of the Ziggurat. I have no doubt you can find your own way." Lifting Acharn until it could float placidly in the air did The Shaper then draw Urfael from it's sheathe, drawing on the power the familiar, ancient blade could offer him before extending it forward toward the enemy. A wave of dark inspiration strengthening the will of those that fought near him, spreading over the ancient ziggurat even as singular rivulet of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. He stood defiant.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Protect the Ziggurat from Defilers
Location: The defenses of the Great Ziggurat of Hurom
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE
Enemies: BotM
Tags: Peeps that are too important for me to tag
-------------------------------------------

Thule.

For all purposes other than history and war, it was dead.

There had always been stories, whispers of the atrocities of the Sith, but one could only believe a story so much. A story, after all, could hold any information be it real or fantastical. But Thule? This place was no story. Alisteri had seen the wrath of Vulcanus first hand, had watched Zygerria burn. Yet this? An entire world rendered silent, by the hand of a previous emperor no less. It was horrendous, a waste of life so awful that the mere sight of the planet caused him dread at the thought.

It was disgusting to think that any Sith would do this, that they would scour entire worlds with no remorse.

Carnifex would pay.

Vulcanus would pay.

And this Solipsis, who had his Maw destroy a world not too long ago?

He would pay as well. Hopefully, on this day.

The Brotherhood of the Maw now darkened this world, as they had done others. Thankfully, unlike Csilla, they had not come to leave it as little more than a footnote in history. Instead, they sought to desecrate and defile it in the name of their supposed 'Dark Lord.' A title that he personally considered premature, and undeserving to say the least.

But it was no matter.

These heretics, they who would label themselves Sith, would fall like the others before them. The Sith Empire was a force to be reckoned with, and the wars that it found itself in did not change that. Today the Maw would meet the mighty bulwarks of the Sith Empire, and their teeth would crack. I'll make sure of that, personally if need be.

"Reports say that a shuttle crashed in the streets of the city, Acolyte would you like to-" "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm sure a scouting party or two will be able to handle one shuttle's survivors." Normally, Alisteri would have jumped at the chance to go out and face the enemy head on, but not this time. The defenders were undermanned and undergunned, he would not leave them to go sate his bloodlust only to have them attacked whilst he was gone. He held no real authority of course, but an extra pair of hands and an extra voice of support could go a long way in the vicious battle of wills and grit.

The Legionnaire simply nodded and left the masked Acolyte to sorting out the crate of ammunition that he had been working on. As he set a smaller crate aside to be transported elsewhere to another group of defenders, he could sense the coming danger in the back of his mind. A violent storm was raging, and it would not be long before the assault began. He could feel it almost.

"And when the wave of the enemy crashes on our shore..." He loaded another blaster and set it aside for future usage. "...our fortifications will be found to be sturdy against the tide."

 

[Darth Solipsis]

THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW

xxxThulexxx
“The Doomvault”
​

The Ommin-class shuttle had been plucked from the very sky above, delivered unto the streets of Hurom with assistance from the Dark Lord as the vessel ravaged the streets in it’s destructive wake. The left hand wing savagely broke free from the trunk of the vessel and found itself left behind, discarded upon collision with a nearby building. The shuttle would not stop here, traveling along the ground level as the buildings damaged by the loss of it’s wing crumbled. Finally the shuttle came to a complete halt near the base of the path ascendant to the Great Ziggurat.

Smoke rolled off the body of the damaged vessel as debris and heated rock rained down over the wreckage. Stillness followed, moments of utter silence as the air chilled to a frost. An aura of hatred washing over everything and anyone who touched upon it, even as the stillness reigned a dark presence drew in on the empyrean like a collapsing star, a vacuum that took in everything and gave nothing in return. The quiet ended with the twisting of metal and groaning of steel as the hull peeled inward. Sheets of Durasteel rolled in like a set of curtains, struggling against it’s nature but moving nonetheless as it was willed to.

Sparks ignited from nearby hanging wire revealed behind the lifted veil as a robed figure slowly emerged in a hobbling state. Passing through the threshold into the empty streets of Hurom, the Sith Master shifted his gaze upon the summit of the crowning structure that towered over the fortress-city of Hurom. Twin eyes burning bright like the fires of Mustafar and hollow with emptiness like the tombs of Korriban looked upon the Shaper not with his sight but with his preternatural senses.

“So many emperors. So little time.”

He stood on the hallowed ground of his predecessors, long defiled and left to the misrule of Dark Jedi claiming to be Sith. They knew nothing of what it meant to be Sith, nor the Maw whose numbers followed his beckoning voice with each dark campaign. An army of savages and cultists who revered the power of the Dark Side, but they were no Sith. Not like his New Sith Order, no the darksiders of the overarching Brotherhood had come, rallied behind his banner to claim dominance over the dying empire. A beast that needed put out of it’s misery.The Sith would be few, the Sith would be powerful, only the strong would survive. The Warlords saw this truth in their own way, it was a shame that those under the Shaper’s thumb had not. The cowards that fled the feast on Mustafar had only delayed the inevitable, they had their chance to defy him, to strike him down.

Instead they ran.

Instead they feared.

Now they simply would die.

The Elder began his ascent up the sprawling pathway to meet this new emperor, listening as the words of Arctus Silmar reached his ears from afar.

"I shall await you, Darth Solipsis, at the peak of the Ziggurat. I have no doubt you can find your own way."

“So be it.”

It would not be long before the Dark Lord’s ascent would reach it’s apex where his prey awaited..

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Thule, Outside of Hurom
Objective: 1
Allies: BOTM
Enemies: TSE
Equipment: Kyrel's Necrochasis, Kyrel's Armor, Vader's Bane Lightsaber

The time had finally come, the dream of both life and death would soon be realized, for years he had hated the Sith Empire, first for making the vacuum filled by the Knights of Ren obsolete when they returned, the second of how they misunderstood the Shadow. How they were all apostates by dominating the dark side rather than feeding it as if a great fire across the galaxy. For by causing more chaos, more destruction. Perhaps even something of cataclysmic forces, the galaxy being washed anew to find peace in rebirth. As he had himself. But he was neither alive nor dead. Something between the two.

Brought back to bring the end to the Sith Empire, even something that his makers had desired, and so after so long, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, an assault would be launched on Thule. Just as the rest of the galaxy seemed to have thought the same, Kyrel would take personal satisfaction in seeing them burn, but even that wasn't enough. He himself had ambitious plans set in motion, and the voice inside his head becoming more frequent, even arriving into the system within the Night Vulture the voice always spoke, often demanded blood, chaos all in the name of the shadow. The destruction of the obsolete Sith. His head throbbed, his insides ached, and anger had clouded his vision. The same old mantra of his makers in his head. 'Consume, Devour, Kill' The same thing said over and over until the first drop of blood had been shed upon his lips.

Looking upon the world, Kyrel reached out, and could feel nothing, nothing but a sort of emptiness all around. As if the world itself was hollow, devoid of all life. When traveling towards the surface sometime later, landing on the rough and rocky terrain that would lead to the doom vault, he could not be more wrong. No lifeforms on his scanners, nothing that he could feel within the Force. Nothing but emptiness and darkness. Something that had even chilled the monster's bones. The land barren, the skies dark and filled with lightning as if angry at the world around it. His hand clutched his saber tightly, more ships landing next to his own craft. Given a handful of his own forces, the loyal and sometimes psychotic forces of the Maw, all eager to die at his command ready to destroy the heretics to the Avatars.

"What fun this is, praise be the Avatars for this day. By Shadow's will we honor this blessing in blood." What had seemed like an army of maurauders had knelt following his words. Chanting "By Maw's Void!" They all came back up, Kyrel, his Knights, and the men that had joined him on this religious crusade. The march had begun, men in pieces of armor from Csilla and the various raids. Some wearing the familiar style of the Nihil, you could see all types of mix ups, Alliance armor and Stormtrooper helms, Spikes even placed into the armor and paint jobs that showed the most vile of torture. Evolving to show that since the raids, the Maw's forces had now started to take the spoils of war, trophies of all kinds from armor, weapons, ships. Keeping what you killed had now grown to new heights.

Now they would do the same, marching towards the likes of the Doomvault, Kyrel sought to use whatever he found in there to destroy this world, or to kill as many Sith as he could. Enough to bring in the attention of the Emperor. The march started off slow, the beating of drums, and sometimes even whips were used at Kyrel's command to make the line move faster. Not that was a problem for the Brotherhood, looking off in the distance, he saw first was Darth Solipsis the old man that had been an interest to Kyrel, and saw that he seemed to be on a mission of his own. For a moment, he contemplated on perhaps following the old man. Grasping his saber, eyeing the man, he started to act and started to move. But before he could make haste something stopped him. "Not yet! The moment is not upon us yet..." The voice seemed to paralyze the Ren, for he could not move.

Waiting only a few minutes, Kyrel was finally able to regain control, still gripping his saber but looked away from Solipsis to focus on a new target, the great ziggurat, perhaps Solipsis would also be there. Looking back to the march of men and monsters. He took ahold of his saber and pointed forward. And so it began the long march towards Hurom

 

[The Mongrel]

Objective III - Resource Raid​

Location: Enenpa, Industrial Depot
Allies: Open
Foes: Open | UX-0626

Sleepy, sickly Enenpa, slowly drifting into death as Sith machines harvested its lifeblood, awoke to horror. Brotherhood raiding parties had descended in force, hitting multiple major processing facilities and resource depots at once in a mass-bid to replenish their diminished war materiel. The Sith Empire, to its credit, had reacted swiftly. Already their champions were pushing back, battling the Brotherhood for every inch of diseased forest and industrial wasteland. Like callous relatives arguing as a lawyer read a loved one's will, the two sides clashed fiercely over the dying world's bounty.

The Mongrel, charging forward in the wake of the line-breaking bogaranths, was particularly not conscious of the bigger picture at the moment. This was the first great test of his newest weapon, the hulking beasts they'd captured from xeno-zoos and the private collections of crime lords, and he was curious to see how they fared in open battle. The creatures were far too surly to accept armor; like many of the beasts the Brotherhood fielded, they were almost untrainable, barely able to do more than be vaguely steered toward the enemy. But being hard to control made them hard to fight, too.

The thundering crack of a massive slugthrower suddenly reached his ears... an instant after the huge supersonic round hit home. One of the bogaranths suddenly pitched forward, spilling its rider from the saddle and sending him into a bone-shattering impact with a tree stump. The towering reptile-insect struggled to rise, screaming out in one of the most horrible sounds The Mongrel had ever heard - a combination of high-pitched, the metal on metal screech of impact and a lower, roaring tone that seemed to shake his bones from twenty meters away. One of its forelegs had been nearly severed.

"Sniper!" The Mongrel cried out... as the second shot hit home.

The second impact was a glancing blow, skipping off the thick hide and muscle of another bogaranth's right rear limb... but it certainly did its damage regardless. The huge creature bellowed in pain and stumbled sideways mid-run. Its rider frantically attempted to point it back toward the depot's walls, but instead it continued to lurch off-course. It slid over to where the other, more seriously wounded bogaranth had fallen, and the two creatures immediately began feuding. Perhaps the less-injured one had sensed weakness, and a convenient way to sate its hunger. The beasts locked mandibles.

It was a contest that would end with the weaker one devoured.

But The Mongrel had no time to worry over two out-of-control bogaranths, now useless to him. He reminded himself that he had expected defenses like this, if not ones quite this powerful; it was why he had deployed the massive smokescreen in the first place, lessening the amount of uncovered ground they would have to cross. And it had paid off. A third of his "cavalry" might be down, but the rest of them struck the electrified fence like a thunderclap, tearing through it like tissue paper - and shrugging off a shock that would have fried a marauder forty times over as if it was a mere tickle.

Behind the bogaranths, the Bloodsworn charged through the gap, eager for slaughter and plunder. The other grenades that had been loaded in the launchers they carried were not smoke, but something for this exact moment, after they passed through the outer defenses. The marauders took aim at the guard towers and raised the launchers, sending volleys of high-explosive grenades at each of the defensive hardpoints. Others who had not received launchers spilled into the compound, opening fire on security forces with a dizzying array of blasters and slugthrowers, clubbing down worker droids.

"Find that sniper!" The Mongrel screamed. "I will have revenge!"

He could not allow himself to become too distracted, however. With powerful Sith-Imperial defenders already on the scene, the most important thing now was speed. An array of light freighters and cargo shuttles were still hidden in the poisoned forest, ready to deploy as soon as the central landing pads were captured. After that, it would be a simple process of breaking open each warehouse and loading up its valuable contents, fuel for Osseriton's shipyards. But unless they could conclusively crush the defenders here and now, they'd have to do the whole thing while under enemy fire. Time to prevent that.

The Mongrel unslung his scattergun... and went hunting.

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Two bogaranths go down to sniper fire
• Four bogaranths break through the depot's outer fence and cause havoc inside
• Marauders flood the breach and start firing explosive grenades at guard towers
• The Mongrel hunts for the sniper

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Objective II: Hold Off Imperial Response​

Location: Thurra System, Orbiting Sivvi
Allies: Subject 54 Havoc
Foes: TSE | Open

No patrols... at least, not yet. The Fatalis glided through the system unopposed, its escorts drifting beside it in a great inverted V, as if they were a flock of migratory birds on some peaceful temperate world. The transmissions Tu'teggacha had received indicated that battle had already been joined on Thule and Enenpa, which was no surprise; champions of the Sith Empire had no doubt been keeping a close eye on the system, readying themselves for an assault on the key chokepoint opened by their war against the NIO. But Sivvi itself seemed to be silent so far. Perhaps the military base was conserving resources.

If the Mawites were lucky, most of the local patrol ships had been sent to the NIO invasion front.

The Taskmaster glanced over at Subject 54 Havoc as he spoke, and nodded at the man in approval. Havoc had more than proven himself over Csilla. He had been the gunner behind the superlaser that had cut through the Alliance fleet and Chiss evacuation convoy, and he had been the quick-thinker who had engaged the Mercy's Path Engines as the battle station went down. Without him, the champions of civilization would surely have saved the Chiss homeworld. He was anointed with the blood of eight billion, and Tu'teggacha trusted him completely. To have him aboard the Fatalis would be an asset to the raid.

"You have done well," the Ebruchi said, "as always. With their communications and hyperdrives blocked, it will be easy to hold them here until our raiders have completed their tasks." With the Brotherhood fleet still slowly rebuilding its strength, isolating the Thurra system had been a key step, and could certainly spell the difference between a successful raid and a defeat they could ill afford; if an Imperial SSD or three was suddenly recalled from the front lines to do battle with them, their little strike force stood less chance against such overwhelming force than a lone porg in a cage full of nexu beasts.

But this was the way they had survived before, in all the decades and more of wandering at the edge of the galaxy: isolate an enemy, strike where they are weakest, and vanish before their strength can catch you. Without any imminent spacefaring threats, the next way to thwart the enemy's strength was to ensure that the Sivvi moonbase could not deploy reinforcements to Thule or Enenpa. "A worthy suggestion," Tu'teggacha burbled, approving Subject 54's notion of bombardment. "Target their hangars in the opening salvo. We will disable their ability to launch any support craft."

If this strike continued to proceed as well as it had so far, the Taskmaster decided, perhaps it would be time to get bolder. Once the hangars were down, they could target the barracks buildings, then the perimeter defenses. The Fatalis carried a significant number of troops of its own, brutal Brotherhood marines they used to launch - and repel - boarding actions. If the bombardment managed to disable the base and lay its defenses bare before them, perhaps he would deploy those marines to loot the ruins. He was certain that the spoils of a Sith-Imperial armory would prove a tremendous asset to the forces of the Maw.

"Take up bombardment positions," he ordered. "You may fire when ready."

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Blockading Sivvi
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Blockading Sivvi
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Blockading Sivvi
Festering Wound, a Nebulon K-class Frigate	Blockading Sivvi
Born of Ashes, a Skor III-class Artillery Frigate	Blockading Sivvi

 

[Maestus]

She stepped down behind TK-818 off the ramp. Unlike others who brought the chill of death with them, Maestus was quite the opposite. Near her, it was as if someone opened the inferno of hell itself. Heat radiated from the Sith Lord's entire being. Almost to an oppressing, unbearable level.

Her cloak was drawn up over her head, obscuring her eyes from view for the moment. She tipped her head back and opened herself fully to the Force. She was seeing through it, searching for signs of other Force Users. She felt something through the Force. A familiar being.

Maestus lowered the cloak's hood slowly from round her head. Her lips cracked and curled into a sadistic smile.

Alina Tremiru

​

​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Bloodwoods
Objective: Du-du-du-duel!
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim
Weapons: Sword | Axe
​

Closing to a distance with Ingrid, Zachariel took her in even as she observed him. As he noted her armor, his helmet began flashing error signs at him, informing him that they couldn't properly track her. Blinking the errors away, Zachariel knew he'd simply focus on his own senses and the Force to see where she was. As she wasn't camouflaged, it was easy enough to see her, relative to when she'd cloak at least. As he stopped and received a nod from her, Zachariel smiled somewhat beneath his helm, even as he spoke. It was good to see such respect between foes, and the feeling was most certainly mutual.

Crossing his arms behind himself, and allowing his hands to clasp beneath his power pack, Zachariel calmly listened to Ingrid speak, deciding to humor a worthy opponent. When she finished, he found himself sighing, even as his mind partially wandered back to those chaotic times. That had been a painful time for him, for more reasons than made sense.

"Have you ever been ripped apart Lady Ingrid? Truly and fully ripped limb from limb, mind from soul, both physically and mentally. That's what happened to me, I both knew and didn't know why I joined the Maw." Eyes narrowing at memories of a war that included thousands of similar beings, Zachariel unclasped his arms and reached to his shoulder. There he removed a helmet, one similar to his own, but far more mutated. Another helmet like it rested on his other shoulder, though this was pristine by comparison. Examining it for a moment, Zachariel turned it so that Ingrid could see it properly. "This is what happened Lady Ingrid, this and thousands more like it. You're right, that chaos is unnatural, and its the workings of a veritable god. For eons and mere seconds, I and two others fought in a civil war not our own, one passed on from unknown times to our own."

A silent growl left his lips as he returned the helmet to its spot, one of reference to a worthy foe, but also a reminder to one lost.
"I know not what happened to the god we faced, only that she troubles us no more. As for our meeting there, what I said then holds true. I was split, and the pain I felt was immense. Part of me was waging war for the Brotherhood already, the other part was only just emerging from the Nether. But my fate was decided that day, because we met and that part of me was forcefully merged."

A dull ache echoes out from Zachariel then, a much softer echo of the whole pain he felt alone. It's enough for him to bring a hand to his helmet, grimacing at those memories, grimacing at the part of him that is still that old Zachariel, the mercenary and not a warlord.
"Ripped asunder and re-knit in painful agony. The stronger part emerged victorious, the warlord within claimed full control." Zachariel chuckles then, a maddened chuckle from a broken and changed man, one who has seen unnatural things, things not meant for semi mortal minds. "It was inevitable really, after meeting that false god, I also met true ones."

He turns slightly, mind wandering back to what he'd seen, his Force presence echoing the horrors and glory. It was maddening and empowering all in one, and clearly showcased Zachariel's state of mind. He had embraced this damnation and turned it into something more, something fit for his new position, for his new beliefs.