Dominion - Knights of Avarice | Dominion of Brosi | Warlords of the Sith | Star Wars RP
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Dominion Knights of Avarice | Dominion of Brosi | Warlords of the Sith

Darth Voyance

Dark Saint of the Sith


With the end of the Helgardian War between the New Imperial Order and the Sith Empire - the NIO seeks to expand its grip over the Tingel Arm by exploring economic expansion into the Corporate Sector via worlds outside of Sith-Imperial yoke. This includes the worlds of the outside Rimward edge - like the temperate Dostra System world of Brosi. Rich in Hfredium a metal refined for Warship Hull Plate production, the NIO sent its most trusted Moffs to negotiate with the Hfredium Corporate Conglomerate that controlled the Brosian supply from its mercantile fortress city in the Shoengen Delta upon the Nomers Ocean coast. The Moff Delegation is accompanied by a contingent of Imperial Knights and the Imperial Maritime Forces as a modest guard. But, unbeknownst to them, the newly forged Warlords of the Sith have been negotiating with a rival component of the Sheongen Conglomerate and agreed to help them in a hostile takeover of the world and conglomerate in exchange for making the rival board members Ore-Dukes of Brosi via feudal vassalage. The NIO’s delegation has no idea that a dark storm will soon eclipse the Sheongen Delta and all of Brosi - beginning a conflict that would be later recorded as The Rimward Wars.

While guarding the Moff Delegation in the Sheongen Conglomerate’s tower within the mercantile fortress city, the Order of Imperial Knights within are besieged by Warlords Sith deploying from a flotilla of ships above the Brosian atmosphere. Fierce urban warfare breaks out as the Imperial Knights must enact a totally unexpected evacuation. To make matters worse, a rival board member has hired mercenary insurgents to take the tower and enact a hostile takeover. The Imperial Knights have fallen back to the Shoengen Delta, taking up a defensive position on a bridge that spans across the Nihun River. They must do all they can to hold the line until the remaining citizens can evacuate.​

As the evacuation of the Moffs begins, the Imperial Maritime Warships docked in the Sheongen Delta are attacked by Warlords, amphibious assault Sith Battle Chapters and Insurgents. Above starfighters drop down to pepper ships with laser fire. The Warships of the Imperial Maritime are caught in an apocalyptic surprise attack and must prepare to set sail - or sink to the bottom of the delta! Their only hope is the NIO Starfighter Air support present from the cruisers that joined the Moff’s Delegation.
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Darth Voyance

Dark Saint of the Sith

Objective 1: Knights of Avarice
Location: Flying Over Nihun River District/Attacking Imp Knight Positions

NIO RP Partner: Errant Errant
Other NIO Enemies: Rurik Fel Rurik Fel
Warlords Sith Partners: Kascalion Giedfield Kascalion Giedfield

Warlords Sith In-Vicinity: TBA
“My mercenaries have occupied Reyno River and Sypon Bay Tributary Districts, Lady Voyance,” said the haughty Grox Dovark. “However, the Imperials have retreated to the Nihun River District. They have fortified their positions on the Nihun Bridge and the Nihun Conglomerate Towers they feed to.” The hologram of Grox flickered as the feed was disturbed by an explosion near him. The corpulent ore-merchant flinched in a lurching duck. Grox raised his head and grimaced, snarling with nervous rage he continued, “I cannot take command of the Conglomerate if I do not have all of Sheongen City! I hope you’re ‘Knights’ prove better than theirs!”

“You will have your city, Dovark,”
hissed Voyance back as she tugged on the trim of her black gloves. “And our agreement will be held. You shall be made Ore-Duke of Brosi, take command of the Brosian Ore Conglomerate...and I shall have my shipments of Hfredium. Now prepare your men. The Warlords shall end this skirmish. Once and for all.”

“You better be corre -” Dovark’s last petty threat was cut short by Voyance as she ended the comms-link with the would-be Corporate Dictator. Voyance moved her hands to control the command sticks of her Crimson Bolt Interceptor. She pressed them and exited the hangar of the Tuk'ata-Class Battleship, the Reliquary, as it hung over Sheongen City like a great shadow. Bursting down into the city, Voyance's Interceptor weaved between the Conglomerate’s Command Mega-Towers which straddled the many Sheongen Delta rivers that separated the city into its Tributary Districts.​

Voyance dove low, skimming the water’s surface as she flew beneath the massive span bridges that linked the delta islands. Blasts from her interceptor picked off New Imperial Order positions along the banks, destroying river barges and repulsorlift craft that were trying to ferry the fleeing Imperial Moff Delegation’s armed personnel. As she rose over the Reyno River bridge she sped over the next delta island to reach the Nihun Bridge.​

Diving down she peppered it with laser rounds from her interceptor. Passing by she winded around the Nihun Mega-Tower and came around for her next pass. Her dark blue lips thinned into a sinister grin as she saw the NIO forces being pinged by the HUD targeting display in her helmet. I have you now,” she growled.
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Ashin Cardé Varanin

Anarchised Nirvana


To Ashin's eye, the Imperial Knights had done a good job of turning the bridge into a strong defensive position. Advance too far and she'd regret it. But someone had to lead the charge, and she wasn't in the habit of following. That was for troopers.

Blasterfire ruined her personal deflector shield irrevocably before she reached her goal, a makeshift barricade at the mouth of the bridge. Another shot or two thunked into her golden armor with punishing force, but couldn't make it through. Jentaral caught additional fire and slanted it away to hiss in the muddy river. The Force rooted Ashin to the bridge, courtesy of a cold fury.

The NIO had gotten her wife killed. The Sith Empire had killed her. Neither empire deserved mercy, and only one of them was right in front of Ashin today.

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So far from the sanctum of protection that their borders offered, Kainan could not help but to be on edge. Constantly reaching out into the Force to search and locate a threat, the delegation was given into the care of the Imperial Force Corps. The Knights, lesser known to the Galaxy had stepped to the forefront of the Empire, doubling as agents of the Imperator’s will as the vanguard against the Sith. It was no wonder that they had been assigned to the Moff protection detail, what with being so close to multiple observed Sith threats.

Kainan’s wary gaze was spared, glancing across his brethren.

It was good that they did.

Splatters of blood coated his plates of armour, typically polished clean, the Young Knight, stamped by his new title had once again become blooded. First in the tower, when the mercenaries had ambushed them, and then as they fled across the bridge to the mouth of the Nihun River.

Responsive fire lanced up from the bodies of water -- the New Imperial Maritime Division – to the Sith forces that descended upon them from the sky. Silver saber in hand, Kainan swung it behind him, batting a bolt away before it could burn through his cloak. His gaze tracked through the Imperial lines, searching for the retreating delegation, and once he saw the handover from the Force Corps care into a contingent of stormtroopers, he leapt over the barricade amongst the Imperial troops.

He had heard the stories of Dantooine, of the events of Bastion in the tunnels. They were inspiring, and on this day, he was certain they would hold too.

"Sacrifice is my duty," Kainan quietly muttered.

Mazus had been enjoying Brosi. Few worlds across the galaxy reminded the Pau'an of Utapau, and at first glance many might be confused why Mazus considered Brosi a suitable climate for himself. A lush planet covered in forests and oceans was hardly like the arid wasteland of Utapau, with the vast sinkholes and chasms crossing its surface. But what Mazus enjoyed of Brosi was its humidity. The moment he stepped off the shuttle with the rest of the Imperial Knight delegation, he had been bathed in the familiar heat and presence that brought back memories of the world he had not seen in years.

He had little time to really enjoy these things though before the formerly peaceful mission went straight into the gutter. First, mercenaries had tried to take them by surprise within the tower. Force intuition had saved the Imperial Knights and their charge, and Mazus had personally cut down several dozen of the mercenaries as they made their escape from the tower. He had originally wanted to stay behind the eliminate the remaining foes, to punish them for daring to stand against the New Imperial Order, but duty had demanded he remain with the delegation.

Duty demanded that they protect.

Mazus was beside the Moff when a interceptor buzzed past their position, blaster bolts tearing through a nearby formation of Imperial troops. Dirt and debris flew out from the location, showering Mazus's formerly clean black cloak. Grimacing in annoyance, Mazus turned to look at the Moff, who had taken cover behind a nearby barricade placed hazardously out in the open. Walking the short distance, Mazus reached down and grabbed the back of the Moffs uniform shirt with his left hand, dragging the man up and turning back towards the bridge. He flicked his right hand, his silver lightsaber humming with power as he idly deflected two blaster bolts coming their way.

"No time for that, sir. That fighter will be back, best not to be out in the open.

Kainan Kainan Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin Darth Voyance Darth Voyance
The Despoiler

Enemy: Areyon Areyon
Equipment: Force-imbued
armour and sword
Leading: The Mother's Mercy
Location: Sypon Bay District, Sheongen

The smell of ash and smoke sent a tingle down Kuric's spine. Nothing so pleasurable as the heat of a flame and the carnage it leaves behind. In the center of a desolate plaza, the reckoning of Brosi was about to begin.

Leaders and board members of the Conglomerate who made their bed with the imperials were dragged out of their hiding holes, their hired thugs slaughtered like cattle in droves as they tried to stop the new tide of the Sith. Heads covered with bags, obscuring the pitiful expressions underneath.

No, that would not do.

Kuric reach for the first one in the line of bound and kneeling businessmen. He untied the crude bag from around his head and gently pulled it off. There was a look of terror in his eyes as they met the towering Devaronian's. Kuric grasped the man firmly by his hair and pulled him up to stand.

The welp could hardly muster a word, but Kuric could see in his eyes and quivering lips that he wanted to ask for mercy. They all did. And they all received the dark embrace of the Mother's Mercy in time.

"I command silence, wretch!" he yelled as the captive board member began to whimper. Kuric placed a massive hand around the smaller Human's throat and lifted him slightly off his feet. The man wriggled and fought to no avail.

Kuric drew his black sword slowly, then with speed like the Tuk'ata he plunged the blade through the board member.

Still holding the now limp and lifeless body, he turned it to one of the camera droids floating around the plaza. He was going to make this a spectacle so all of Sheongen City would see the supremacy of the Sith.

"To all those who are witnessing the might of our crusade, know this: We have only just begun." Kuric dropped the corpse and turned intently to the next man on death row...

Objective: 1
Tags: Open

All manner of emotions rushed through Alina's mind as the tower came into view. Hatred for the New Imperial Order and their Knights that had taken her arms. Joy for the revenge to be had. Excitement to once more fight against them and see how much stronger she'd gotten. Fear. That last feeling was buried deep, but there was no denying the fear she felt. She lost her arms in the assault on Bastion. Robbed of her strength. Humbled. Humilated. She joined these Warlords on this assault for her own, petty reasons.

She would wreak havoc and kill anyone she found.

This landing was much better than the last on Bastion. She wasn't shot down or separated from the troops she hitched a ride with. Steel plated boots thudded on the ground as she hopped out of the transport. The fight had begun. Now all she needed was a knight to skewer.
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Romund Sro

"The Past is Murky"

Objective: #2
Tags: Open
Shoengen Delta

An apocalyptic surprise attack it was. Even with the Moffs and their defences being caught off guard didn't make things a cakewalk for the amphibious assault at least. Attacking from the water may not have been the best idea in hindsight. Even if it was unexpected there was a fairly good reason for that. The large delta created something a field of wet sand with a pretty flat and exposed firing line.

The defensive encampments were sparse and most were unmanned. After all they didn't really except that an attack here and now and not from the water. But sadly for Romund and the forces he was with what few encampments there were made effective and grisly work of the attackers. Once many of the transports touched down it was time for the various battle chapters to continue on foot. Fortunately they had help from repulsor tanks to aid with the encampments.

Having unsheathed his vibrosword from his back Romund with act as something of a lone shock trooper. Using the force to speed him up to inhuman levels. As well as using the mystical powers to empower his weapon to block the occasional blaster bolt coming his way as he leapt and zig-zagged on the watery sands. Sure there probably weren't many if any imperial knights out here where he was. But that didn't mean he was of no help.

Eventually Romund got atop on of the battlements. A simply duracrete bunker. Making sure his weapon was activated. The longsword hummed with ultra sonic vibrations before he stabbed into the roof of the bunker. Slicing through it before he made a large enough hole for himself to slip into. The occupants of the bunker gasped as he entered. Readying his blade against the enemy soldiers they seemed rather worried over the turn of events. The sergeant in with them called out. "A Sith! Kill him and you'll be famous!" With that as encouragement the soldiers attacked Romund. Blasters and in melee. As the interior battle commenced some Soldiers outside could hear blaster fire go off with some anguished screams before a bust of rest mist shot out from the window of the bunker. The Vibrosword making quick work of the soldiers in the bunker. But because it wasn't a lightsaber the outcome was rather gruesome...

Objectives: 1 & 3
Location: Hfredium Corporate Conglomerate Headquarters - Shoengen
Tags: Darth Voyance Darth Voyance Dasam Kal Dasam Kal

The Ore-Dukes of Brosi were creating an offensive for which one illustrious Grox Dovark was speaking to Darth Voyance. The Patron Saint of the Warlords. Known well for her shadows that could see all. However, Vora intended to illuminate the situation. Standing with the cowl over the top of a blackened dome helmet, The man with crossed arms looked over to the human. He had a couple cybernetic enhancements, and was a little on the heavier side. Enjoying some drink every now and again. However, underneath, he could tell the man had once been a warrior much like the mercenaries he commanded now. Part of the Conglomerate that was attempting to control the fluxuation of imports and exports for the planet.

Without turning to look away, the man spoke to Vora. Almost with anger. Held back knowing that the Warlords could lead to some extra credits for him, or a premature death.

"You Sith and your arrogance. She wouldn't let me finish speaking."
"I assure you Ore-Duke Dovark, she is in the fight just as much as your men are. Who would she be if she didn't lead her own men into combat?"

The man rubbed his beard with a spare hand. Folding his arms as his eyes surveyed all that was being shown on the massive hologram of the battle. Filled to the brim with information upon which he could use. The Sith took this time to step forward. Coming to stand close to the man, but far enough away to keep a distance.

"She is a face of the Warlords. Being seen in battle, will lead us, and you, to victory over this skirmish with the Grey Cloaks of the Imperial Order."
"Good! I want them gone. Restrictions upon my trade is stifling. Like choking a child with a scarf."

To say that analogy was strange, would be an understatement. The man wanted to seem powerful. Empowered. Yet here he stood instead of fighting with his men. Leading the war in a seat with arm-chair tactics. Turning his head to the man who was joining him, Dasam Kal, a man left in time for a number of years, was becoming of the Warlords. Promise had been given to this man. Wealth of what happened within his past, and right those who had wronged him. However, first, he needed the assets to do so.

"Knight Kal, With the current offensive in action, is there any way you see that we could tighten our grip of these Imperial Knights, and those that sail their seas?"

While it was a question directed at the Sith, the Ore-Duke spoke up quickly. A twinge of anger in his voice.

"The meaning of interjecting yourselves within my ranks? These are my men Sith!"
"Yes they are. However, I am accountable for all of the Warlords out there as well. the sooner we can tighten our grasp upon them, together, the sooner it will be over my lord."
"Hm. Very well. What does your apprentice have to say?"
"Not apprentice."
"Excuse me. Sith, do you see an improvement between our operations?"

Turning once more to meet the gaze of the man alongside him, Vora wasn't looking for an answer if he didn't have one. If he did, then all the better. If not, then it would only make the deal become even better.
Power comes with a price

Tag: Kainan Kainan
Equipment: In sig
Objective: Information by any means
The very air grew heavy. A sensation that may of weighed on every individual. A static charge surged, clouds flocked together with as if magnetically attracted, their color changing from a pure white into a somber grey. The formation of such an anomaly was specific to the Nihun River and its adjacent bridge. The making of a storm that seemed to cap off and end after roughly six kilometers.

From birds eye view, the formation reminiscent to a tropical storm and it begged the question as to how. Brosi was far from a tropical planet and yet the planets winds screamed. Its currents picking up with a howl at a unprecedented rate. From the dark heavens above the tears of Brosi fell down to its soil, duracrete roads and infrastructures below. Feeding on its own pain as the Sith attacked. Rain descended down, plucked and carried by the now heavy winds of the coming storm.

It was above from the dark skies that a dark delineation, a figure, seemed to drift and hover eight stories in the air. Dark cloaks and robes tattered and torn trailed behind it. Windblown in all directions. A gleam dimly shined from what may of could be described as a left hand. A gauntlet with the appearance of gold. Adorning his head was crown of bone.

A sulfuric gaze cast down toward the panic stricken and stressed. Hate filled orbs that blazed like suns. With each of the bodies moving into action the Sith lord was only reminded on his over arching goals. He was not gaining power for himself. His thoughts dwelled on another. And nothing would come in his way either. Today on Brosi the Sith lord was here for one reason.

Information and knowledge.

Something that only a Imperial knight could have. Knowing this, Immortuos took his intense stare to the nearest one he could see.

The poor fool.
Metal Face

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
Iron Skin |
Darth Voyance Darth Voyance | Kascalion Giedfield Kascalion Giedfield
Errant Errant | Mazus Strain Mazus Strain | Kainan Kainan


It was in due time that the rats emerge from their holes. Kyber Dark. It did well in purging a great deal of them. But the Sith had proven themselves far more persistent than the most desperate measures time and time again. The Man of Iron would take it all into his own hands. So close to this Apostate remnant space, the state of vile marauders in-exile placing foothold on Tash-Taral, assuming the New Empire ignorant of their festering rot emerging once more.

"I can sense them here. They come in force today. In forces far more than we are able to sustain the fighting with." Rurik speaks out, relaying to his knights.

"Good...this hubris will damn opportunity to sever heads from the Hydra. The Devil walks here. He will meet his doom." Rurik stated once more.

"Knight Strain, take the Moff and the rest of his retinue from this place, make sure of the evacuation effort's success. The Crusade Fleet will relay to carry us from this damned place. Whatever hope of New Imperial foothold here wanes by the minute, that is no longer our aim." He commands to the Pau'an.

"Kainan. We will hold the line...and we will make them bleed for every pace." Rurik commands, his argent blade swinging up in a frantic dervish of the blade to deflect a pulse of blaster bolts sourced from mercenaries bought and paid for by the warlords headed toward his center mass. He honed in on the source and wrought the trooper to him with a fierce lurch in the Force before skewering him in two.


The Headsman's Axe
Writing With: Zassat Rond Zassat Rond
Equipment: Modified Massasi-Class Armour, Laser-Axe
Location: Nihun River District, behind enemy lines
Objective 3: BYOO

They hounded down the mercenaries with ruthless efficiency at the forefront of this great crusade. The Red Sons were one of the many wheels turning to give the Sith Warlords motion. They struck fear in the enemies, hired guns whose only thoughts were on the glint of a credit chip, too blind or perhaps stupid to see the glory of the Sith that was returning to the galaxy. These worms had not even traveled to the sacred Sith worlds and gazed upon a superior Sith of pure blood, nor would Apkari give them the chance. All they saw was faceless and menacing armour, striking from the shadows and snuffing them out with impunity.

The Red Sons were currently closing on the supposed base of operations for the mercenaries. They had pushed the hired guns around the city, securing districts quicker than the enemy could fall back. With each successive routing of the enemy, they fled back into smaller and smaller holes. This would be their last, and when the Red Sons cut the mercenaries off from their command, the city would fall to the Sith.

A few blocks from the target location, a group of Red Sons make their way under the cover of buildings and backstreets. As they reach the location they believe to be the mercenaries current FOB, Apkari takes a thermal charge from his pack and places it quietly on the door. The soldiers stand back as it tears the door of its hinges, and then they flood the room.

"Leave no survivors!"
All Brought Low

W O R D _ B E A R E R



"A new dawn awaits us, my fanatics."

"There is only one Darkness. For Light casts a deep, dark is inlaid in the foundation of all mortal sentience."

"We are the bringers of this new dawn and in it we will rise from the primordial become one as gods. Such is our vindication that awaits us in the holy grounds."


"Today...our crusade, our holy war begins in truth. And we will unmake all of them with the raw power we wield in our flesh, in the Force."

" merely the first step. Come my brothers and sisters...and bring death and undoing unto those who challenge your strength."

Setheus decrees in a frigid yet booming rhetoric to the scions of darkness before him. Youthful, vitriolic fanatics looking to prove their might, test their strength on the field of battle. On this day, they stared into the Iron Sun. Iron, the ever precarious foe. Its will, unbendable. The sons of the New Empire the most committed of them all undoing the Brotherhood. But still, the dark lingered in each of their hateful hearts. Setheus would seek to invoke it all from their spirits. Not to bend the iron...but to break it.

Each of them donned human like masks or otherwise, depicting cold or distorted statuesque faces, otherwise donned in black with the faintest makings of crimson in the ensemble. These sons of darkness were Acolytes all of them. Willful souls looking to beat their head against the gates if it meant they could climb the next rung, prove themselves.

No matter how many fell, how many died or how many failed to make the climb, his power grew with every passing. Their success, their growth a path separated from his own, his willful fanatics an easily riled brood of sycophantic screamers bent on making death.

And today, they would make death on Brosi.



Lost soul

Location: Surface
Tags: N/A

New Imperials. First-order. Core Imperials. Imperials were always at heart still the same old gang of militarists, despite the creeds or ideologies they claimed to hold faith to in this life. They still died all the same regardless. The same held true of her former order the Silver Jedi, but they were just a gang of loathsome fools who played dress-up at being the shields of the innocent and oppressed. What good her former friend's mantras of altruism and peace did the various peoples whose homes were destroyed and their species butchered by Zambrano's men. A small sliver of Ihsan's old self-used to believe in it too, but then she saw the horrors that had befallen the people she thought she was meant to protect and little by little she grew disillusioned and internally broken.

Sometimes she wished she had joined her fallen brethren.

Ihsan abruptly broke from her meditation to be greeted by the sound of the shuttle she was in rumble as it broke into the atmosphere, the sound of blaster fire rattling the sides and distant artillery fire. She arose and pulled her saber off from where it lay dormant with a flick of her wrist, yellowish-red eyes glowing in the dark shadows of the shuttle as it slowly opened its ramp. And with that she propelled herself out of the assault shuttle, landing deftly on a nearby roof and into the urban wild of Brosi.


New Imperial Order
Knights of the Empire
Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Kainan Kainan | Mazus Strain Mazus Strain
Darth Voyance Darth Voyance | Kascalion Giedfield Kascalion Giedfield

Further up the bridge from Rurik and Kainan's position, Errant stood at the rear of New Imperial Stormtroopers' retreating force. Most of them had turned an ashen gray or crimson red, their armored forms now stained in the fury of a great battle. Other stormtroopers covered their retreat before falling back beside their battered brethren. Their push to flank the hated Sith Empire, though cleaver, had proven disastrous once the Warlords descended upon Brosi. Their fleet rivaled that of the great Crusade. The fury at which the Sith took them put the New Empire on the backfoot immediately, seeing them engaged in a fighting retreat from nearly the beginning.

Explosions ripped through numerous barges located across the waterfront as enemy starfighters soared overhead, lighting up the night sky in destructive flames. The maritime division took the brunt of the damage for now, but the Albino knew the bridge was tenuous at best. He turned and grabbed one of the stormtroopers marked with an orange pauldron.

"You!" Errant shouted over the din. "Fall back and get those damned shield generators active! We won't survive a pass from those ships!"

The stormtrooper turned, his gaze drawn to the Knight's black armor. The captain scoffed outright. He turned away from Errant, taking the first steps to a nearby band of soldiers.

"I don't take orders from a traitor!"

Errant sneered, his alabaster hands reaching out to rip the soldier back around by the underside of his helmet. "You WILL follow my orders, captain! Or would you prefer seeing our brothers blown apart in a bombing run?"

"Er-" the soldier stammered, unable to find a response.

"Good!" Errant pushed him away. "We're making our stand at the Lord Executor's position!"

He turned to those wounded who hurried past him. Some limped by, supported by another, while others were dragged across the bridge or thrown over a shoulder. Errant couldn't help but glare at the sky. His ire turned towards their most hated enemy.

"Keep going!" Errant howled, his voice rising above the approaching thunder. "The shields offer solace. You need only walk these final steps! The Empire will not abandon you! Your Knights will fight until the last to ensure your survival! Do not stop! Do not yield! Do not break!"

Rurik and Kainan's gleaming sabers lit up the night as they engaged those who slipped over the sides of the bridge, turning aside bolts in support of those who could not defend themselves. Errant turned away, his gaze drawn to the opposite end of the bridge, now devoid of the Imperial stormtrooper's snow-colored armor. Only shadow greeted him, driven on by chaos, the Sith at their backs. He bit back his rage and hurried to the Lord Executor's position, falling in beside him and their brethren.

"That's all of the wounded," Errant reported. Just as he finished speaking, a crackling blue energy shield rose up over the bridge, cutting off the bombers' easiest route of attack.

"My life for my Empire," he snarled.
Above the battle a dark cloud gradually began to form. Where once there had been natural light cast upon the New Order, now was it artificially taken from them. It was as if the gods themselves had stopped smiling upon them, and Kainan had realized it immediately. Long hair flowing, his attention was drawn by the words of the Man of Iron. "By your command, Lord Executor." The Imperial Knight's silver coloured blade swung up into the air, batting away a flurry of bolts from his already tarnished torso.

The forces of the Sith had drawn closer to their lines, and soon they would be over.

Through the intrinsic network of the Force, the metaphysical sense spoke to him, giving voice to a more immediate concern. While on the ground there were more than enough sources for him to be struck by, Kainan's senses found the sources of the rising apprehension in mere moments. Directly focused on him, his attention was like a magnet, finding the Sith Lord high up in the sky.

Filled with blaster fire, explosions, and rapidly moving fighters racing through the sky, the unmoving figure of a person was easy to find. It stood out, and with the sight granted to him by the Force, and his own physical eyes, he stared daggers up at the Sith Lord. Those pale blue eyes stuck in his skull were as icy as ever, possessing a coldness that would even rival the inhospitable world of Hoth.

At his side, a stormtrooper collapsed, a searing hole in the duraplast of their armour. The thud produced by the body dragging him from the infinite whirlpool of thoughts that plagued his mind. The blaster carbine was drawn to his hand. Deactivating the hilt in his hand, it found a place on his hip again. Belches of crimson leapt from the muzzle of the carbine, for the hovering Sith. Kainan knew they wouldn't be as effective as they would be upon the drones that typically followed the Sith. A true Sith, they would be beyond those that had set foot at the Halls of Defiance on Bastion.

The blaster carbine stopped firing.

Too hot, he recognized, tossing it to the side, digits curling into his palm as he balled his hands into fists. "We fight for time, Errant," Kainan said, jaw tightening. Death was their duty -- they all knew it -- but the drive to survive was more motivation than any indoctrinated education. Muscles tensed. The energy from the world surrounding them began to coalesce around him, both enhancing and shielding him from impending harm. He didn't even make attempts at avoiding stray fire, instead, glancing across his brotherhood of Knights and unclipping the silver hilt from its place on his belt. It was akin to an armour, better than the gray and black that was offered by the Empire. The thoughts of his teachers the focus of his manifestation of will and power.

It was now when his knees bent. Strength afforded to him by the Force, he leapt as high as he could -- straight for Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos . His form skyrocketing from its rooted place on the ground. Their teachings... Against them. For both Orders that he had served had viewed the Force in similar ways. The former being, the Force was an entity made to be bent to the Will of the Sith. The latter, the Force was simply a tool to be used. Similar, but the shining Knights of the Empire restrained themselves.

Amongst the Brotherhood, Kainan had been known to push those limitations.

On rapid approach, the wind whipped past him, hair blinding him as he soared. But he saw beyond the wild locks, the Force his eyes. The Imperial Knight brought both his arms back, grasping the hilt with left and right. And as he reached the apex of his leap, he made for the Sith Lord, and swung in a fell swoop, with all that momentum he could gather, from shoulder to hip.
Man on the Moon


Death reigned supreme upon the forces of the New Imperial Order.

Sweet as it was to behold, it was almost a pity to see the Imperials on the backfoot for once. He had followed the progress of the New Imperials during his brief journey as a ward of the Jedi. Even then his fascination with power had drawn him to the ideals of the strong. An adoration developed for those powerful beings who brought ruin upon the crumbling remains of the Zambrano's Empire.

Even after their purge of the Sith among their ranks, and Jacen's inevitable fall to the sway of the dark, he maintained a liking for the Imperials and their struggle. The galaxy sat ready to sweep them at every turn, yet still they stood defiant. Power incarnate was what they represented in his eyes at one point.

It was just a shame that al of it would have to come crumbling down.

The Warlords of the Sith fell upon the planet of Brosi as the Sithhounds did onto a fresh corpse. Starving for whatever their guilty pleasure consisted of, those forces of the Order who remained trapped on the planet were truly the unfortunates in his eyes this time around. The game had inevitably changed around the forces of the New Imperial Order, and Jacen was present to see what he once admonished as great be destroyed and replaced by another. The Acolyte sought to reach heights of his own, and through the deaths of his enemies and his foolish allies as well, he'd achieved that vision soon.

He watched as the underlings of Darth Setheus Darth Setheus threw themselves upon the defensive positions of the remaining Imperials with a fantacism that he admittedly did not possess. He approached from the rear of these foolish Acolytes, flanked at his rear with a small number of Sith who'd followed him since their time in training. They stepped over the falling bodies of their comrades in disgust, approaching ever closer to the ranks of the New Imperials.

Others descended onto their enemies as well; it proved beneficial to him, seeing Sith of various levels of skill beginning to charge ahead into the fray. Through their efforts the small group of Acolytes he led would slip into the battlefield without being hounded by the core group of Imperial Knights who were present.

They engaged the Knights upon the periphery of their defenses, maintaining a tight group as to not be overwhelmed by their resolved-to-fight enemies. Tendrils of darkness erupted forth from the head of their group once it was clear that battle could not be avoided. Darkness permeated from Jacen as he launched the tendrils at a nearby Knight, skewering the man with the assistance of his comrades serving as decoys. Together with his own minions, even the Knights of the Empire would find themselves dead before his eyes.

The smell of iron infected the air as their group continued along the flanks, engaging lone Knights and leaving a dessicated corpse when all was done.. Though relishing in the combat a bit more than usual, he did have a goal in mind besides the simple slaughtering of their foes. The Shield Generator had been his target from the start, judging from the belt of explosives that several of his comrades were carrying. Getting sidetracked in their bloodlust was just a minor miscalculation on their behalf, but the fun had only just begun.

Through the chaos being sowed by their allies, Jacen intended on reaching that Shield Generator by any means necessary. Even if the cost was the lives of his 'friends', the task would be completed. He could always locate more followers, but the chance to outperform his rivals would not always be present.



Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Errant Errant | Kainan Kainan | Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos | Darth Setheus Darth Setheus
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Armor: X | Lightsaber: X | Right Arm: X
Objective 1: Knights of Avarice
RP Opponents: Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Errant Errant
RP Allies: Darth Voyance Darth Voyance
Other Enemies: Kainan Kainan | Mazus Strain Mazus Strain
Other Allies: Darth Setheus Darth Setheus | Vora Kaar Vora Kaar | Jacen Novastar Jacen Novastar | Ihsan Ihsan | Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Apkari Apkari | Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos | Kuric Taumin Kuric Taumin | Romund Sro Romund Sro | Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru
Theme: One Who Craves Souls
Post Title: Arrogance Becoming the Skeletor
In some general understandings of the Force, as it was through the ages, it was essentially an infinite web of melding energies and interlocking fortunes incapable of ever truly escaping its schemes. The unfortunate condemnation of all who existed under its umbrella of authority, which was humorously everyone that ever lived. At least, that was some general understanding to some in the Galaxy, but this was not so to Kascalion Giedfield, especially in the most recent days. His unblinking hollow eyes of ice stared at the verdant world of Brosi that swarmed with life beyond comprehension in some aspects, contemplating this story of fate and destiny. Brosi housed complex, diverse beings that were a spectacle to look upon, and yet...they were still doomed to their predetermined end, unlike the veritable Gods that looked down upon them. You see, of all the quintillions of lives that have ever existed in this Galaxy, only a choice few have ever been able to escape their set demise. Their pre-written story. The Warlords, in their fury to reclaim their place in the Galaxy, were those chosen few. And Kascalion Giedfield was at the height of them, his power of will strong enough to escape the fate designed by the Force dozens of times over, and now has made that very same thing as much a part of his as his very limbs and organs.

The Force, in its eternal reach, no longer controlled him, for he now wielded it with an everlasting inalienable right. He had dominated it, perverted it, and bound it to his very soul, blackened as it was, in such a way that it called him Master like any apprentice of his would. Indeed, no manner of fate set about for him by some forgotten seeress of the past could change his true destiny to rule the Galaxy as the sole sovereign of all life - light and dark - with his kin of evil beside him. That was the destiny that he built for himself out of his own desire and acceptance of his true power. He would be the one who would send those before him upon their paths to their ends.

The battle on Brosi would only help sink this belief in further as he once again sought to clash blades with the Imperial Knights. Hardened in combat as they were, and by no means weak conduits of the Force that still lived beyond the might of Kascalion, they would once again learn that no matter how many times they try, the Sith would not be defeated.

They would not be quelled.

And they would not be denied.

"Imperials..." the Devil suddenly began to whisper through that infinite catastrophe of melding energies and disastrous interlocking fortunes, hoping - no, knowing - that this mortal enemy of his was present on the world. "Do you sense it? Do you accept it? Do you accept that when we meet this day, you will be surrounded by death and that you will suffer in nothing more than cold, primordial gloom? That such inordinate amounts of time will pass as the lift slips from your veins, all sense will be lost in the void? That is the fate we are sentencing you to. That I am sentencing you to. Prepare."

Ashin Cardé Varanin

Anarchised Nirvana

TO ENGAGE: Oleksandr Palerma Oleksandr Palerma

Violence with a solid blade was a primal experience in a way that lightsaber combat never could be. When Jentaral sheared through a stormtrooper, it laid open, it didn't cauterize. That meant less stink of burning, more stink of slaughter, and blood all over Ashin's armor. It seeped through the joints and into the bodyglove. It squished and got sticky and warmed her cold bones, and much as she hated the mess of it she loved the impact. With a lightsaber you could keep emotional distance. A sword didn't allow that.

And this particular sword, certainly not.

Many Sith Lords dabbled in alchemy and thought themselves masters of it. Ashin knew her limits, but she'd surpassed herself when she made this sword years ago, a capstone project after decades of moderately-skilled metalwork. Jentaral was a classic Sith sword writ large. In a symbolic sense, anyway: at thirty-six inches, it generally functioned as a close-quarters single-handed chopper.

Easy to get caught up; easy to miss the big picture. Golden armor smoking - no, steaming from blood and stray blasterfire - Ashin swiped back her hair with a gauntlet and straightened up from the latest kill. Overhead, a leaping Imperial Knight was attempting to dislodge Immortuoa from his levitation roost. Farther up, a new energy shield held back Sith bombers that were targeting - what? Positions on the other side of the bridge?

She missed the situational awareness of parking herself on a bluff a mile away with a handpicked sniper rifle and a droid spotter. But today demanded close quarters. A sniper couldn't take and hold a bridge against density like this.

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Gear: Lightsaber Pike, Armor
The Moff security detail was not something that the Omega Knights had not seen before. Along with their standard duties as Knights of the New Imperial Order Force Corps, they stood ready to act as bodyguards for high ranking officers and officials who may be traveling or require protection.

Currently, they were being slaughtered.

Areyon and the Knights that followed him were under a great amount of resistance. From the chaos that erupted into the building to the ships overhead raining down hell, they were pushed outside of the building without the Moffs that they promised to protect. They would die quickly if they didn't secure the building.

His knights circled around him. They looked for an answer from their leader for which he had.

"Brothers, we must push forward back up to the tower. We cannot let these fiends control us any longer." Areyon spoke just and true.​

He raised his lightsaber pike in the air, and his brothers-in-arms followed. A new revigorated spirit lived in all of them.


KNIGHT GANG: Kainan Kainan | Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Mazus Strain Mazus Strain
ENEMIES: Kuric Taumin Kuric Taumin