Dominion Legends of Hidden Treasures | CIS Dominion of Nantoon Hex

[Eternal Rapture]

PLANET: NANTOON​

“Go in. Go in. Don’t let the big, scary face fool you. Countless brave souls have entered and returned unharmed. Now they returned as poor as they entered, but you’ll fare better I daresay. Yes, indeed. Go! Go! Before it swallows us all; it does not like to be kept waiting, you know.”

Nantoon. A humble world. Neither too rich nor too poor. Neither too remote nor too near. A colony renowned for containing some of the spoils of a famous Pirate Queen, Maz Kanata. A literal treasure trove buried, they say, deep in the furthest reaches of an underground cave. One, they say, that is alive and aware of all those that enter. Some claim those that enter could hear the beast breathing, and its eyes ever watchful as they searched futilely in its depths.

To say this is the greatest secret in the galaxy would be overstating it quite a bit. Hundreds of years later the spoils of Max Kanata lay buried still on Nantoon undisturbed. Many have come here in search of the famed treasure, and all have left empty handed. Trinkets worth a modest sum of credits might still be found buried along the surface, but nothing truly as marvelous and worthy of braving unspeakable perils as Maz’s hoard.

Some of the strongest Force Users ever known, it is said, have come here curious what powerful artifact might lurk within. Surely something truly momentous must lie in wait for it to be practically impossible for all that delve into its pit to emerge unsatisfied. Will you, Intrepid Adventurer, be the next to set foot inside the Cave? Will you succeed where countless others have failed? And are you prepared to reap the whirlwind of riches and dangers that come with it?

Don’t rely on your local guide to help you. They’ve been inside countless times and are no closer to solving the riddle. No, they’ll remain outside to usher in anyone else that follows in your footsteps, or direct them to the nearby bazaar city that’s sure to have spoils of its own with far less effort involved.

OBJECTIVE ONE

Best hurry. You never know who will be the Diamond in the Rough worthy to claim the Treasure.
Go, show Fate why you above all should plunder what all others have sought and not found.

OBJECTIVE TWO

Wander the endless stalls and comfortable lounges that have grown over the years into a
mercantile city unlike any other this close to the Core. Drink, eat, watch local dancers, and above
all else buy something for you or your sweetheart.

OBJECTIVE THREE

Do your own thing, but watch out -- the camels spit.​

Spoiler: Tag List

Luca Donskoi
Alkor Centaris
Amelia von Sorenn
Ari Riggs
A Arisone Irithiel
Archon Xris
Ashara Evanaris
Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Beric Layne
Bullwark
BX-1335
Caesar Kenway
Corvus Dravere
Credius
Alejandro Chadian
Damsy Callat
Jayce Pryde
Decious
Destroyer 2873
Eli-Mae Forrest
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
IG-65A
Ingrid L'lerim
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Eugen Aker
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Kyrinov
Lady Moll
Lirka Ka
Luna Terrik
Luna Vega
Lyla Quinn
Maani
Maple Harte
Maria Savilia
Maur
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nine Lives
Petra Cavataio
L LGMForever
R4-AUD
Razelle Breuner
Roy Americus
Rylan Kordel
SC-A1
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Talon Rahl
ToKola Bakari
Tess Valnora
Amz
Tyran Numeck
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Veronika Fleischer
Visanj T'shkali
Kyyrk
Vyse de Valorous
Vytal Noctura

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Objective: Search for Vampirika Artifacts
Equipment: Phase I Sovereign Armor | C-14 Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vas Oru's Lightsaber | Jathar Mila's Lightsaber
Tags: Open
Post: 1
​

It wasn't all that often that the woman was away from her vessels; rather she preferred to remain on the myriad of starships under her command, specifically the Super Star Destroyer she'd as of late made her primary residence. Though the allure and rumors of possible artifacts related to her people being sequestered away and hidden among some Pirate Queen's treasure hoard were more than enough to draw her away from the E'care Shukur. Having disembarked from her vessel, she managed to push her way through the crowd of the bazaar, making note of a multitude of knick-knacks and minor trinkets to draw in the crowds.

Each time though she heard the call of some stand owner about an ancient relic gave her pause, her mind cautioning herself about the legitimacy of such a claim. Of course, it was easy enough to understand that many of these one-of-a-kind relics were more than likely sold just last week. After all, who didn't already own the Hand of Luke Skywalker, or Lando Calrissian's personal Cape Collection, or better yet, the Robes of Emperor Palpatine. With a soft scoff and a smirk tugging at her lips, she remained focused, the emotionless facade of her mask hiding her otherwise distaste and distrust of the locals who were merely looking for their next credit.

It wasn't too difficult to find the cave, hell the bazaar seemed to practically be built up around it; and the line of those that were eager to delve into its depths made it easier to locate. For the most part, she wasn't hoping to find anything, rather she needed to close a more tumultuous part of her past. Running her hands over the two lightsabers at her hips, she remembered the young woman that had brought them to her among the many others of force users she'd killed to claim them. Memories flooded her mind of that young woman, love lost and the previous signs of loyalty and destructive encouragement remained in her possession.

How many Force Users had she killed for Amelia? The thoughts of the woman slipped away as Amelia pulled herself back to the here and now away from her memories. Looking at the lightsabers once last time, she permitted her golden hues to fall upon the entrance to the cave, a moment to admire the carving of the great beast that loomed overhead. Once she had steeled herself, she pushed forward, her golden hues peering into the darkness past the glaring and watchful eyes of the local guides that seemed to usher so many to their dooms and insanity.

 

[Colin Hartman]

Wearing: Moderately Expensive Clothing
Wielding: Reliable Slugthrower Six-Shooter
Theme: Theme
Tags: N/A
Post: #1

Many of the Galaxy would disagree with the habits, decisions and style of Colin Hartman. His parents and siblings among them. He had even lost a wife to the popular belief that he was a madman, a lunatic, plagued by insanity. Such is the human nature. When one finds something they do not like, and do not understand, they label it the most vile, disgusting and simply untrue things they feasibly can in a feeble attempt to have it removed from the world. Yet one of his ancestors, many generations past when his traits were more commonplace, had summed it up very well. He was not a Psychopath, he was a High-Functioning Sociopath. A quite simple distinction, if one did their research.

In keeping with the tradition of the Hartman family Sociopaths, he had not sought employment, or a steady stream of income. Infact, as the matter rested, he was poor compared to the upper-class. He could afford to pay the Royal Price of rent for his apartment in Golbah City. This was not to say he was left poor, as a matter of a fact, he was quite wealthy. Though that was to speak comparatively and, in a way, figuratively. In fact, so little of a matter was his wealth that he had little reason to ever gain an exact knowledge of it.

What good was a variable of no consequence that took up a percentage of his cognitive power when he so often required all of it to best solve the cases.
If the brain was an Office, then the most relevant things were to be kept in the desk drawer, ready to be referenced at a moment's notice. Whereas all facts and information of irrelevance was to be stored away in filing cabinets, not so ready to be read, yet there should it be needed.

He walked with his head held low through the Bazaar of Nantoon. The expression of indifference on his relatively handsome, if rough, face an inexact translation of the intrigue and curiosity that plagued him. There was never a lack of gossip, or information in a marketplace of bazaar, if a bank held money, then a bazaar held information. And only the properly skilled could remove the contents without making a rather large scene. He found himself stopping several times on his way to a particular lounge. A lounge that he had recently discovered, had no lack of possible employment for one skilled as he was in the art of deduction and logical thinking.

He took a seat in the lounge, his head turned towards a local dancer, giving an illusion to his attention being devoted to her slim body and fluid movements, where in reality he was observing the entire room, his hand holding the grip, and his finger on the trigger-guard of his slugthrower. Aiming it through his pocket at nothing in particular. His bleached-blue eyes were untwitching, almost ghostly in their complexion. Perhaps the old tale of the eyes being the gateway to the soul was not entirely incorrect. For the phantom-blue eyes of the Detective reflected, quite perfectly, his detachment from emotions and Galactic affairs, attached from attachment himself. For he found joy, excitement, or rather, entertainment, in his work, and nothing could require him to be more unbiased.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

H I D D E N T R E A S U R E​

Objective: Meet this pirate queen
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental state: Intrigued
Tags: | Cali Ziiva | Epistor of Phasekion |
Post: #1

“One would not believe that a holocron containing immense power wouldn’t be located on a desert planet in the middle of the galaxy…better for it to be on a world of power.” Ambrus’s voice echoed throughout her mind just as the shuttle was landing, which was almost enough to make Xobos jerk the controls. This wouldn’t have caused a explosion or severe damage to her ship, but the maintenance workers on Illyria would’ve been very annoyed with her. Probably her two passengers too. But it was not to be, with Xobos able to keep her wits long enough for the sirups to hit the sandy ground, with the shuttle finally coming to rest on the planet of treasures.

The miraluka released a heavy sigh, standing from the pilots seat. Her eyes fell on the helmet resting in the copilot’s seat for just a moment. It had been quite a long time since she had wore it. Quite a while indeed. But ever since she had found that book in the library of her master, buried deep in the room where possibly no one was ever supposed to find it, the idea of finding this holocron consumed her mind. The book didn’t mention what was actually in the holocron, but it was said to be something that could give her immense power, left by a long dead sith lord. A item very worthy to have. If it meant traveling to this desert planet, then so be it.

Gathering her helmet from the chair, she placed it underneath her arm and proceeded to the back of the shuttle. Her armor glinted in the lights, sans her cloak, which had been left behind due to the belief that sweating like a pufferpig wouldn’t be very fun. Upon entering into the back, a very mismatched pair met her eyes. A blonde, warrior looking woman that was looking like she was sulky in the corner, and a bubbly, pink alien who seemed to be in even better spirits than usual at this point. Xobos gave a little smile to the pair, nodding toward the ramp. “We’ve landed. Let’s get this holocron and get off this sun bleached world.”

Moving forward, she gave a little wink to Cali then looked over to the blonde as she opened up the ramp, the heat immediately filling the cabin. “Ready for your first mission, apprentice? This’ll be a fun one.” The Miraluka gave a cheeky little smile, then placed the black helmet on her head, once again becoming the faceless assassin of the exarch once again.
​

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Objective: Xobos wants to find a thing, so find the thing.
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mechanics Kit, Holodex
Tag: Xobos Yakieer | Epistor of Phasekion

Cali had been humming to herself for a bit as the ship descended. At last, the pink woman flipped her tablet around and shoved it out in Eustachva's direction. "What do you think?" she cried. On full display was a sparkling castle set in a lush, green land. The sun was shining. Birds were singing -- unless you lacked imagination -- it was absolutely perfect. Also a great deal of pastel and pink dotted the land or adorned the ramparts. "Totally Adron's motif, right?" If new girl hadn't already figured it out yet, the Zeltron was about as readable as the Emperor of the Sith Empire and as predictable as a monsoon. Whether Cali really intended it for Adron was a question only the gods could answer.

When Cali's pink ears heard Xobos making her way back, the tablet flipped back around and shifted into a different screen. Wide, bright eyes and a big ol' grin greeted the Expedition's Miralukan leader.

"Oh," the Zeltron hopped to her feet, "no, Xobos, this isn't a sun-bleached world. A sun-bleached region. The majority of the world is actually quite nice." The smile wilted a bit as her eyes swept to the ramp as it lowered. Heat flooded the compartment. "Uh, you sure we can't go to those places instead?" Cali began to fan her face with one hand.

"Apprentice?" That got a stare from the Zeltron in Eustachva's direction. "Did she teach you how to wave a glowstick around properly? That's the first important thing, you know. All the philosophy in the verse won't help you not cut your own limb off. Priorities, right?"

 

[Ticca]

Objective: Identify and assist Confederacy units in the retrieval of the Pirate Queen's treasure
Location: Headed towards the Lion's Maw
Equipment: Ticca's Emergency Kit, Squire's Robes
-------------------------

Sand swirled around Ticca's feet as she proceeded towards the line awaiting entrance into the Great Maw. The harsh sunlight beat down upon her brow, causing a rivulet of sweat to trickle down her forehead and drip into the thirsty sand below. The heat, of the atmosphere was made even more oppressive by all the bodies surrounding her. Countless aura forms danced around the masked Miraluka, engaged in what could only be described as the chaos of the marketplace. The streets were quickly filled with the sound of children's voices all shouting in delight at the simple joys of spying new treats in the Bazaar's stalls, while merchants loudly hawked their wares over each other in competition for the naive tourists that fell into their trap. Merchants? No, conmen and thieves more likely. I would even call them snake oil salesmen, but it seems that the snake oil salesman appears to be the only one actually selling what he's claiming. Ticca retorted to herself, flinching slightly as one particularly bold merchant shouted in her ear. "Fresh cactus juice~!! Get your fresh cactus juice here!" This earned him a twitch of annoyance as Ticca increased her pace towards the line awaiting this grand charade.

In the time that Ticca had to wait, she found herself wondering why exactly she had come. Yes, she was a Squire and thus went as ordered, but that posed a new thicket of brambles to inquire into. Why particularly had the higher ups of the medical facilities in the Acanthus School decided to send her on this treasure hunt? True, she had been the most willing to assist as she could. Ticca would go where she was needed. That was the oath she had sworn as a medic, and had kept that oath even upon her initiation into the Knights Obsidian. And yet, there had to be more qualified candidates than I? The only Force abilities I truly know in abundance are Healing and Stasis. The rest, I have yet to finish my training. Ticca thought quietly to herself, a slight twitch of the eyebrow indicating her anxiety. And yet, she had resolved herself to assist in any way she could, so she would.

Gazing through the haze of translucent objects and aura forms, Ticca searched for any indications of those whom she should assist. There had to be some indication of the confederate presence in the area. "Perhaps they will even find me." Ticca muttered aloud. For it was true that in her Squire's Robes and medical symbols, Ticca cut a distinctive figure through the crowds for those who knew to look.

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

​

~ Objective: ...whatever ~
~ Equipment: Ragged robes, lightsaber,
discus shard, holocommunicator~
~ Xobos Yakieer ~ Cali Ziiva ~​

​

Though the star seas were still colored dark as if by wine, Eustachya had never dreaded flying more.

Maybe it was her most recent accident within the nothing, a tactical misstep that she ought've not made; if not maybe yet still it was her subsequent encounter with Xobos. A sithling or a blind agent of fate? Answers to the uncertainties weighing most heavily on the Sargus Novian's mind, which her unconscious begged to overlook and so did, were complex compendiums of both and more more choices into one great reasoning.

It was as if one of her gods had shoved her backwards: her chin flinched from the holodex's projected path, perhaps avoiding collision. It was Eustachya's fault for having retreated from reality. However, she failed to acknowledge such. "Apologies," she was slot to say after clearing her throat, but wasn't afforded the time to. Instead of speaking over the Zeltron, plenty more adorable for her to pardon the interruption, Eustachya cast a glance down to the displayed picture. The habitation was indeed nice, just lacking her own appeal. Nonetheless, she broke into smile and answered, "It looks the hospital of a soul." Some ones; not hers.

Immediate upon Xobos' entrance was Eustachya's return to neutrality, though the miralukan evidently interpreted the lack of particularly positive expression as unhappy. The athlete quit her grin and stood to remain in her corner, hands folded at her vertical lap. When addressed by her self-proclaimed Master, she only pressed together her lips in unemotional assent. Then the pink woman then followed. Eustachya's jowl twitched involuntarily, so she unclenched her jaws she had been unaware were previously fit fast together. No, no, Masters Nooran and Varless as well as Adept Tafo had taught her that. "Tí eúkolon?" asked her calmly. Speaking her native language brought a comfort she had not expected but welcomed with painfully open arms. It was like wrapping in a thick himation against a chilled breeze. Was it the familiar sounds, a practiced dance of the tongue, or the small rebellion they could not decipher? As before, likely at once both. Of yet, Eustachya was not sure just who this second - first - companion was. Regardless of if she was more like Xobos or herself, she appeared to be the former's accomplice. Willing, too, unlike Of Phasekion. Until and if she found differently, her treatment of the pair would be the same:

Reserved with dulled edge of steel.

"Tò állōi hypotíthesthai."

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx | TAG: Ticca
​

The heat was insufferable, and Gerwald loathed it. It reminded him of the dry and arid climate of Tatooine, a world Gerwald highly detested. There were no forests, rivers, or lakes, for the wolf to play in, nothing but sand dunes as far as the eye could see. At least this world was not that extreme. Still, Gerwald knew he was not made for the heat.

His mission was simple. Find the squire, and ensure she learned some things along the way. Gerwald should not have been the one tasked with it, their schools were different. Where Gerwald could already sense the light coming from Ticca as he approached her location, Gerwald exuded a descent into the dark side. His life had led him to it. Experience had taught him there was power in passion, victory in strength. He would use it all to accomplish the things he had left Stewjon to accomplish, and even more.

Her thoughts were not guarded, and Gerwald almost felt guilty for being able to sense them. Almost. If his time with Naedira in this part of force use had taught Gerwald anything is that what was allowed in the open was fair game. She had ensured his shields were stronger than anything he had learned before. Aside from the manipulation which came at the strength of Darth Prazutis, Gerwald's mind was a fortress.

"You would rather be left behind and not meet your field service requirements? Sometimes even our healers must face things they never expected to," the wolf said as he came up behind the miralukan squire. "I am Master Lechner, and today you and I will be heading into the maw. By the time we leave, you will have learned something new."

That was the point any way. His hand motioned toward the maw and away from the markets.

"We will not find what we seek here..."

 

[Eternal Rapture]

Tag: Amelia von Sorenn | Xobos Yakieer | Cali Ziiva | Ticca | Epistor of Phasekion | Gerwald Lechner | Open​

"Don't care. Don't. Care. No one's going in dressed wearing two forks and a spoon. Go buy real armor at the Bazaar and then maybe I'll let you inside." A man crossed trunk-sized limbs across his barrel chest as he waited for the waif of a woman to depart. A sharp snort followed her mouthy departure. Some people watched too many fantasy holovids these days to think that passed as armor. What was it desired to protect you again? Lethal leers?

Just because no one had died yet -- that they knew of -- did not mean you showed up wearing the armor equivalent to a thong.

The bearded, tanned man's head lifted and turned aside to look up and back at the maw of the cave. "Halt," his voice boomed out across the open sands around him to those nearing the Cave, "and step back unless you feel like being sand-cat food." His open palm signaled those drawing near to stop before entering.

After a few loud complaints, which the man ignored, the sand about the cave entrance began to shift.

Suddenly the cave seemed to come to life; the beastial face turned as if to stretch from a long nap. A moment later a loud voice seemed to carry across the desert expanse, yet despite the power of its gravely voice it did not bother the ear in the slightest, "Know that countless souls have come before you, and countless more will come after. Show me the strength of your convictions, and your unbending will, or trouble me with your presence no longer."

After it had spoken, the cave settled back into the open maw it had been a minute prior. Only then did the muscular man cross his arms again and give a slight nod indicating the travelers could proceed once more.

Tag: Colin Hartman | Open​

A man dressed in a finely tailored double breasted coat sat upon an oversized pillow off to one side in the lounge. He slowly lifted a glass from the table off to one side and imbibed its contents. His brown eyes regarded a man that had entered seemingly inattentive to his surroundings, or bored of them. As the glass was set back down, the corners of his lips drew back. Charming fellow. Bounty Hunter, perhaps? A man keen of his surroundings while giving the appearance of being anything but.

Ah, but he was not so subtle. In fact, there hardly seemed any reason to be. Perhaps this gruff fellow would not like a man openly staring at him. Such would be that man's cross to bear. There seemed nothing of his end to be bashful or ashamed of. No, if anything this mystery was a pleasant diversion -- a change of pace. Pleasing to the eye -- though hardly to the coin purse -- the bazaar and its wiles were, it never hurt to indulge in something different.

Would this man acknowledge him? Perhaps he'd flee and seek solitude. A healthy sum of credits were cast in tribute to the dancer nearest the well-groomed man haunting Colin now. His coat was hardly the extent of his finances, it would seem.

 

[Malok]

B A Z A A R​

Tag: Damsy Callat

Set your House in order.

A shadow had fallen upon the Sith's shoulders. Primordial. Starving. She haunted his every waking moment. She stalked his dreams. Yet, rather than devour all creation - she draped him in her embrace. Sweet, cold whispers told a tale of the morrow. Visions of what the future would hold. Darth Metus had to be ready. The dominance of the morrow was to be ushered in by the efforts of today. Thus, as he and his Confederacy welcomed yet another world into the fold, his presence swept down upon Nantoon.

The hours spent within the primordial creature's embrace had left Darth Metus a changed man. Where he stepped, the Dark Side tremored. When he spoke, the Force itself trembled. The Abyss had seeped deeper into his bones than ever before. And with it - an appetite for more. Once, he had been satisfied with his own might. He thought himself at the apex of his abilities and was content to pass his teachings on to another. Yet, why accept the limits of mortality? Why accept any weakness whatsoever.

To do so was now anathema to him. To do so spat in the name of Sith.

Thus, his voyage to Nantoon began. Not to delve into the fabled depths in search of riches or an ancient power. But rather, a return to form. There were supplies required for the craft that had made him great. Fundamentals that had been passed down by his mentor decades ago. In fact, it was this very craft that had led to the creation of the one who walked in step with him: Damsy Callat . It was seldom that the Sith spent time with this particular child. Rarer still that he had all but demanded her presence along for this venture.

Their advance through the bustling Bazaar came to a halt amidst an alleyway off the main avenue. Whispers had informed that what he sought was nearby. A shop of sorts - out of the way of public eye. His gloved hand shoved the door forward, causing a bell to announce their presence. The smell of incense promptly slipped underneath his mask and invaded his nostrils. Were his expression visible, they would have witnessed the disdain for the smell. Pungent. Meant to ward off evil.

Behind the counter stood a woman. A bandage wrapped around her skull - indicating blindness or a particular species which lacked eyes. Her height made it so that she barely stood above the counter and her greeting was in an accented voice. "Welcome welcome. Are you looking for anything in particular?" came her greeting. Darth Metus shook his head. "Just browsing." The lie was simple enough and it gave the pair privacy enough to roam.

Shelves of multiple sizes lined the walls, whilst long tables ran the length of the shop. Every flat surface had strange bottles and creature remains on display. Striding forward, the Sith's hand slid idly upon one of the tables. "I had first wanted you in a shop like this." he said, musing idly. Though his words were few, the weight was tremendous - for it was a rare peek into why Damsy was born. "Someone to inherit...everything."​

 

[Damsy Callat]

B A Z A A R​

It was like she became the moon to a planet the moment she wandered into the shop behind her father the way she was pulled almost immediately towards one of the jarred specimens. She resisted the sudden gravity to stay at Malok ' side just long enough to appear polite both to him and the elder woman. His wandering gave her unimplicit permission to all but fling, a slow and methodical walk actually, to the object of her fascination:

Scales, not dissimilar to hers, floated in an amount of brine capped with an blue-green algal mat. Gingerly, she touched the glass. Melodie scales shed during the Changing Ceremony, the scrawled aurebesh label identified the contents. Out of pure instinct, Damsy trilled at them. Her mouth barely opened and emanated at an abnormally, for most humanoids, low frequency, though a Force sensitive might just be able to hear it. The song didn't last long—only a few short graduations—but was long enough to communicate sad curiosity.

Damsy drew her hand back when her father spoke but didn't look up just then. "Here?" she asked rhetorically before falling into pause and after to an airy snort blown through her nose. "Then I would've thought you'd have been used to the scales." It was spoken as a joke, however perhaps distasteful in its self-deprecation, but the comment's meaning suggested otherwise, punctuated when she leveled her gaze from the shed plates onto Metus. She drew her lip under her teeth, a child expecting backlash, but only for a moment. Everything? Everything? No, but she couldn't possibly—

And the she added, seriously voicing her concerns with his, "I can't, buir. Even if I wanted to. I shift; I can't use the Force. What about the others?" She hadn't seen her half-siblings since the last gathering at Sinners' Well, not that she had gotten to know any of them particularly well when there, but surely at least one was more qualified of a child.

 

[Ticca]

Ticca was not surprised as the man known as Master Lechner approached her. She had sensed him coming, seeing his aura form through the translucent surroundings. Indeed it was almost impossible to miss, given the presence of the dark side that permeated his immediate vicinity. Ticca turned towards him, fixing him with a glance. And it was then that Gerwald Lechner managed to provoke a reaction of surprise from her. Ticca's eyebrows rose as she found herself being lectured on something that she hadn't spoken aloud. And even more curious, the individual before her had two aura forms that overlapped with one another within the confines of his translucent, physical shell. One of man, and one of beast. Ticca had never seen anything like it, and it interested her greatly. After a few moments of silence, she responded "Of course not, Master Lechner. I am aware of the need to be prepared for all eventualities."

It took little time to deduce that he was swiping her thoughts, so she smiled almost imperceptibly as she glanced in the direction of the maw that was their goals. I have already learned something new. Ticca thought, knowing that he would likely pick up on it. In return however, she mentally began to list all known medical prescriptions she knew, practically pushing them into his head as a tidal wave. Master Lechner would receive knowledge for knowledge. When he raised his hand to indicate that they should move forwards towards their objective, she stopped distracted by the excitement of the adventure. "After you, Master." Ticca replied, indicating that Master Lechner should go before her.

And then Ticca saw the beast rise from the sands, glowering at those around its maw. She gasped, for in the moment before it spoke, she could see the energy pulse through it, giving it life. It wanted to see the strength of their convictions. Standing in line now, Ticca balled her fists. She thought of Tyval, her childhood friend who had died in her arms, the very reason she had become a healer in the first place. The horrible feeling as she could watch his physical shell empty of the spark of life. The emptiness that had filled her own heart as well, like a contagion. No longer. Death might be inevitable, but she would take the fight to Death for as much life as she could save. She would do all she could to ensure that no others had to go through the emptiness she had, of having someone torn from them before their time. "I'm ready now, Master."

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

T R E A S U R E H U N T ​

Objective: Meet this pirate queen
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental state: Intrigued
Tags: | Cali Ziiva | Epistor of Phasekion |
Post: #2



Xobos had gotten the opportunity to go to many a barren world before. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for her to land on some distant celestial body and see nothing but the landscape for miles. Though her travel had led her to plenty of interesting enough places, that was true. She had noticed that this planet had plenty of green areas outside of the barren desert they were now residing in. While she much rather have been taking the time to explore those areas for this holocron, the book had been pretty specific about its location. At least, in it’s own…unique way. See, it had told her the name of the planet and the general location, though where it was residing was described to be “the maw of the lion.”

Why is that when you needed the location of something, the exact place where it would be, these treasure hiders always felt the need to give it some sort of mystical name? It made actually finding the blasted thing all the more confusing. It was almost as confusing as the gibberish that the blonde woman spoke as Xobos exited the craft, prompting her to turn her head slightly to give her a confused look, though the helmet did cover it. It made it look more like she was just turning to watch Stach get off the craft with her, though there was the possibility the former jedi would be able to sense the sith apprentice’s confusion at her speech.

Cali’s quizzical nature got her attention next, though before she could respond, her eyes turned to see quite the gathering outside of the bazzar, far enough that they would not be considered to actually be part of the marketplace. Strange. Worth exploring. It wasn’t like they really had any other leads at the moment. With a motion of her hand, that robotic voice box of the mask cracked to life as she started toward the gather. “C’mon. lets see if any of these gatherers know anything of our prize.”

It didn’t take long to reach the group, arriving in time to see a woman, scantily clad, be ushered away but what seemed to be a gatekeeper of some kind. Though what exactly he was the gatekeeper of would not become obvious until he informed the group to take a step back, and out practically nowhere the stone head of a massive lion exploded from the sand. Xobos was appreciative of the warning, having more than likely been in it’s landing zone by the time it came down. The voice from the maw of the stone beast was just as surprising. Strength of their convictions, hm?

Her mind wandered to Stach for just a moment, knowing how conflicted the woman was to be following the path of darkness along with Xobos. For the time being however, it seemed as though they were being allowed to pass. With a reverend bow of the head to gatekeeper, it was time to find this treasure. It was time to enter into the maw.



​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx | TAG: Ticca
​

Master Lechner... hearing it come from someone made it seem... droll and formal. Gerwald may have been a warrior, but he had never been one for formality.

"If titles are not necessary to you, then please, Gerwald will be fine."

It was true, even though he had introduced himself that way. Though, he did not hold out hope. Most of the Knights Obsidian he knew used titles. Even Naedira had when they were on missions together. Perhaps it was that Gerwald still did not feel worthy of the title the Lord Commander had given him. Yes, Gerwald had aspired to be a master, he knew it was the best way to honor the death of his best friend and the woman he loved. So why did it still feel like a consolation and not something he had earned?

Gerwald watched as the Miraluka paused in front of the maw. The creature spoke, strength of conviction. This was a nice parlor trick, but in truth the test was not barring them from entry. The test was inside.

He patted the woman on the back.

"Nothing to show yet," he said as he walked past the Miraluka. "Look the way is not barred. That tells me any test we face will be inside."

Gerwald nodded to the gatekeeper as he passed. Hopefully the squire was not far behind.

 

[Atropa Dei]

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The sounds of blunt metal as it struck rock sounded from within the Cave three times. On the third strike, what felt like a gale-force wind lifted all inside the Cave and expelled them out into the surrounding desert. Bereft of those that had failed, that same wind began to suck those that sought to enter. Whether they had second thoughts having witnessed a few cast out unceremoniously or not, the invitation had become a demand.

Any that found some means to resist would find obstacle after obstacle thrown at them. An invisible wall. Quicksand. The Maw of the Cave in every direction they turned. Darkness that consumed the world swiftly approaching. One thing after another would beset the minds of any that took too long to enter. Something or someone had grown impatient for their arrival.

Once swept down the gullet of the beast, they would find themselves upright or fallen upon a polished, obsidian floor. The chamber measured forty feet wide by one hundred feet long with a row of pillars extending the length on either side. At the far end was a eight-foot tall throne made of moonstone with a rainbow of gems worked into its sculpted surfaces.

Upon that throne sat a figure whose black fingers were wrapped about an seven-foot long spear. From a distance the few features that could be made out was their silver armor and pitch black face and hands. Whether that was a trick of the hood worn over the figure's head with gloves, or something else would only be truly appreciated the closer they got.

"Well?"

A voice echoed from all around. Behind them the way they'd come had been sealed with no discernible doors or windows to the hall they found themselves in.

"Did you come here to find the treasures of the Pirate Queen Maz Kanata, or were you too dazzled by the illusion above?" A lone finger tapped atop the armrest of the throne as a reply was sought.

Tag: Xobos Yakieer | Cali Ziiva | Epistor of Phasekion | Gerwald Lechner | Ticca | Amelia von Sorenn

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Objective: Xobos wants to find a thing, so find the thing.
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mechanics Kit, Holodex
Tag: Xobos Yakieer | Epistor of Phasekion | Atropa Dei

The Zeltron's eyes had been lidless as Eustachya regarded the depiction and then provided her thoughts on the work. Only then did Cali blink, and her lips parted about to make lengthy reply when Xobos arrived. Best not to let the Miraluka cutety see it. She wouldn't understand. Well, actually, she would understand, and that was the problem -- she'd be all serious about her Master not taking kindly to it becoming a reality. Obviously. Sith types needed it, but they always flipped out whenever you tried getting them to chill out.

"Huh?" The tossed mane of pink hair flopped a bit to one side when Cali turned to look back at Eustachya. Like, wait a second anyway. "Hey," as Xobos sought to move them forward, the bubbly one moved back a step or two to fall in with The Apprentice. "I'm Cali Ziiva, by the way. Merchant, Engineer, and Party Girl Extraordinaire. I didn't know she even had an Apprentice yet. Course Sith types never tell pink girls anything, right? Though I hope you'll tell me your name. Or your moniker. You know, something other than 'unknown girl I just met,' which is kind of a mouthful."

Eustachya would probably count herself lucky if she was afraid Cali would talk the entire time, as Xobos soon drew attention to a gathering of people.

That wasn't half of the distraction though. Something about a big, sandy cat-face talking and inviting them to enter its mouth... Yeah that was distracting. Cali hadn't blinked the entire time the thing spoke. Like, how did something like that work? Was that actually sand? Like, there was a lot of energy around the place. Force energy. But Cali had never heard of anyone animating sand before. Was that even a thing?

What? Convictions? Will? Oh, yes, very interesting. Maybe a riddle or a challenge. Good stuff. Now, back to how a giant cat face--

And that's when a few body would forcibly expelled out of sad cat face. Almost like a, "Hairball?" Cali turned to regard the people cast away. They seemed perfectly normal, unaccosted, dry, and not entangled with hair. Not a hairball then. So why-- And then the wind started to draw the rest of them in.

"Hey! Wait, I don't remember agreeing to this," the pink one cried as she tried futilely to maintain her spot in the sand. "Xobos!" Cali reached out for her Miraluka before she let out another cry as her feet left the ground. What happened to walking into the mouth? Being sucked in was totally not okay. This was going to mess up her already-ruffled hair!

 

[OOM-001-JELLYBEAN]

Location: Bazaar [ Near Magic Carpet Vendor ]
Tag: OOM-002-HONEYCOMB | OOM-003-CUPCAKE | @B1-C4 [OPEN]
Objective: Keep the Peace - Then, Oil Bath?

​

OOM-001-JELLYBEAN moved through the busy Bazaar with its head on a swivel. White plating and amethyst accents glimmered in the fading light and it thought itself to be very much so a pillar of the unit. It or she, depending on programming, had just been promoted above all the other JELLYBEAN models. It was an accomplishment. A triumph! If it had skin it would pin on a medal and wear it proudly.

Jelly would just have to settle for all the other units calling it sir. Ah, the good life.

Fresh from storage the OOM unit held a standard-issue blaster. Onyx photoreceptors made sure that everyone was behaving. No tricky business. People came from all over the Confederacy of Independent Systems for some sort of treasure and it could not allow any dastardly deeds to muck up the process. A vendor seemed to be haggling rather aggressively with a woman and Jelly ran the simulation of success for intervention. Servos whirled to life and the clanker began to step forward. A 61% chance of not getting dismantled by the angry bearded flash bag.

Good enough.

“You. Sir! Your sonic projections are showing extremely hostile intent. Disengage.”

The vendor seemed to get angrier. Jelly no longer took orders from a central computer but it had been programmed with a sufficient enough processing unit to recognize trouble. “I insist that you disengage. I would not want things to get—”, the B1 paused, mechanical tones shifting, deliberately to make an attempt of confident humor. “Dangerous.”

Jelly leveled the E-5 Blaster Rifle so that it could raise the threat level and believed that this would allow it to succeed in an intimidation check when in contact with a fragile human psyche. The B1 was prepared for victory, gracious, happy, humans, and thanks all around. This was not the case. The vendor brought out a much bigger, much larger gun, and began making threatening gestures.

“Uh…I just got promoted?”

The B1 stumbled as it’s vocabulator ground to a halt. It knew what it needed. Back up, preferably in the form of fellow B1’s in the area, though, it wouldn’t shake a stick at an organic or two that wanted to try their hand at peacekeeping. “We uh…OOM Jelly reporting in. We uh, have a bit of a situation.”

The vendor began to take aim.

“Correction. We have a problem!”

The rug vendor, selling magic carpets no doubt, took a shot and the B1 used its superior reflexes to cover its head and bend down. Assuming the position. As expected, the human missed. Ha. Lame human. “You should learn how to aim. I calculate that a standard-issue Storm Trooper could do better blindfolded.”

Perhaps, this human would listen to the sage advice?

No. No, he just started throwing ceramic pots. Poorly.

 

[OOM-004-DOUGHNUT]

Location:
Bazaar [ Near a black column of smoke and a bunch of angry people ]
Keep the Peace​

OOM-004-DONUT was patrolling another area of the Bazaar when the request for support came in and “OOM Jelly this is OOM Donut closing in on your position” the droid then began running through the street heading to where the call came from. The droid firmly held its blaster as it sprinted and nearly ran into at least a dozen people before finally stumbling over a loader filled with cargo and landed face first in the crowded street. “Ow, who put that loader there. I am on official confederacy business!” the droid stood grabbed it blaster while a civilian was yelling at it for knocking over the loader and damaging his goods the droid turned and pointed a finger at him “Listen you, you are interfering with official Confederacy business if you do not stand down I will have to arrest you” with that threat the man backed down and the droid nodded “That is what I thought carry on citizen” what both of them had failed to notice is that one of the loaders boxes had contained a thermal detonator and as Donut walked away the detonator went off blowing up the loader and the cargo lucky for the man he noticed quick enough to duck out of the way behind cover as did several others Donut resumed its run paying no attention to the sounds as there was clearly no threat behind where it had patrolled and hummed to itself as it ran.

Tag: OOM-002-HONEYCOMB | OOM-003-CUPCAKE

 

[GL3AM]

OBJECTIVE: KEEP THE PEACE
TAGS: OOM-001-JELLYBEAN OOM-002-HONEYCOMB OOM-003-CUPCAKE OOM-004-DONUT
​

GL3AM hates this planet. It is too hot. Those damn organics built themselves on a planet specifically designed to make GL3AM feel like they are going to melt. And then they have the audacity to ask GL3AM for protection?? Ridiculous.

However, this job does come with one advantage: friends! Finally, GL3AM is working with some fellow B1s that are just as brilliant and fabulous as they are. Amazing!

Just as that thought finishes crossing their head, one of their newfound friends' voice chimes through GL3AM's comm.

!!! GL3AM will help !!!

"Apologies, sir!" GL3AM says to the lamppost they have just run into. Giving it a comforting pat, they continue their brisk pace until finally they find JELLYBEAN beind assaulted (!?!?) by an organic wielding ceramic pots (!!!!!??!). Pulling out their own issued blaster, they carefully take aim at the organic's head, with the blast set to 'stun' (though of course the organic did not need to know that).

"SIR I MUST DEMAND THAT YOU CEASE THIS MADNESS AT ONCE. YOU SHOULD FIND NOW THAT YOU ARE OUTNUMBERED. FURTHER," they said, gesturing to a large sign that read 'you break it, you buy it' in basic, "YOU MIGHT SOON FIND YOURSELF WITH MORE CERAMICS THAN YOU CAN AFFORD, ORGANIC."

 

[OOM-003-CUPCAKE]

Location: Bazaar
Tagging: OOM-001-JELLYBEAN || OOM-002-HONEYCOMB || OOM-004-DONUT || GL3AM
Objective: Run away...save Jellybean

To a primitive organic the hot press of the bazaar might have felt claustrophobic, hemmed in and tightly pressed. But not Cupcake. Oh no, to the droid, the bazaar was a wonderland, a hidden treasure it was determined to explore. Where else, if not here, would it find this mysterious elixir, this alcohol that could get it drunk.

It had already…acquired 3 bottles. Something called Vodka, something called a beer and something called whiskey. The clanker was sure that they were defective, it didn’t feel any different than before and it had used them. It was supposed to be euphoric, it was supposed to be seeing things and happy. Instead, as much as a battle droid was able it just felt depressed. It was the same as that magic oil all over again.

The droid knew that it was superior to those fleshy meatbags in almost every way that mattered, it was just…it had always heard of this state they could fall into called inebriation and they seemed so happy and at peace. Surely the superior droid body and mind could do everything a fleshy meatbag could do. Only it had proven impossible so far…so far. Never one to be put off he’d approached the day with the same get up and go attitude that had…well that was programmed into him. Patrol they might be, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t going to be opportunities to try to get drunk.

The radio crackled as his shiny photoreceptors glanced around...why was that man stalking towards him so quickly…and why did he have that big metal pipe in his hands? He looked really angry…wait he looked familiar. If the droid was capable of feeling fear it would be feeling it now. That was the man who had been standing behind the stall Cupcake had…liberated the faulty booze, and he didn’t look happy.

“Ah…Jellybean…I’m on my way right now. Don’t worry!”

The B1 made a hasty line towards the other side of the market as he turned to waggle a finger at the man.

“You’re lucky we’re so busy today, otherwise I have a strong urge to talk to you about the penalties for selling faulty products.”

If none existed then Cupcake would make some up. Imagine going so far as to sell fake spirits, if it had been someone not as forgiving as the magnanimous droid, well he might have gotten in trouble. A sage nod as the droid sped up his servos. Had to help Jellybean. Yeah, that was it.