Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Populate MALVERN RISING [ ME Populate of Ord Canfre ]


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MALVERN RISING
"A crown claimed in shadow is a crown already broken."

CARANNIA, SERENNO
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House Malvern had been struck a grievous blow during the Mandalorian Empire’s annexation of Serenno. Betrayed by the other noble houses who now called themselves the Chorus, House Malvern and House Serenno were hunted to near extinction. The survivors of the attack, alongside their loyal soldiers and servants, fled into the frozen north of the planet. Their fall was momentous: once the second most powerful lineage in all of Serenno, they were reduced to little more than a memory in the span of a day.

Yet in exile, the last scion of House Malvern would not bow to obscurity. The blood of his line had always flirted with shadow, and many of his kin had embraced the path of the Dark Side in recent memory. Now, cast into desperation, he hearkened to the Darkness that had whispered to his House for generations. On his knees before the void, he pledged his soul in exchange for the power to reclaim his birthright.

The Darkness answered.

Visions consumed him...showing the base of a frigid mountain, where a long-forgotten cache from the Clone Wars slumbered. Marching with his loyalists, he unearthed more than mere weapons. There, row upon row, thousands of battle droids slumbered in silence, alongside the arms and firepower of a forgotten war. But deeper within the mountain, he found something older. Buried within ice and stone lay a crimson pyramid, a terrible relic steeped in ancient knowledge. Its presence bled into him, and the scion of House Malvern rose transformed, wielding the full might of the Dark Side.

At dawn, the march began. The capital city awoke not only to the thunder of droid battalions, but to a blanket of miasma that poured through its streets. This was no natural fog. It was a thick, suffocating shroud of Darkness, steeped in fear and paranoia, that broke the will of those who breathed it. The militia faltered. The Mandalorian garrison, unprepared, was overrun. House Malvern’s banners were raised once more above Serenno as the city’s ports and airspace fell under their control.

With the capital in his grasp and a droid army at his command, the scion turned his gaze to the rest of the planet. Yet before he could rule Serenno, as was his birthright, he would have to withstand the reprisal of the Mandalorian Empire. This was only the beginning.


THREADS REFERENCED:
CHOIR OF ONE

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BREAK THE GUNS
(PvE - Attn: Great Heathen Army, Protectors & Writ of Iron)

House Malvern has fortified the capital’s main starport with autonomous anti-air emplacements, choking off any hope of reinforcement from above. Most of their droid forces are concentrated here, forming a wall of fire that keeps larger Mandalorian ships from landing. Strike teams must cut through the defenses, destroy the batteries, and clear a path for the Empire to descend in force.​

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CLEANSE THE MIASMA
(PvE - Attn: Spiritspeakers, Mandalorian Knights & Writ of Iron)

The worst of the Dark Side miasma festers around the Mandalorian garrison that fell during the first hours of the assault. Within its walls lie the heavy munitions and supplies needed to push Malvern back, but the fog is thick and alive with dread. Spiritspeakers and allies must brave the corruption, confront what lurks within, and restore the garrison so it may serve the Empire once more.​

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RALLY THE CHORUS
(Diplomacy - Attn: Alors, Wardens & Ambassadors)

The noble Chorus that betrayed Malvern now reels at his sudden resurgence. Some whisper of siding with him, others hesitate, fearful of reprisal. Mandalorian envoys and allies must press the Houses to stand united through diplomacy, intimidation, or sheer pragmatism before Serenno fractures again. The political balance of the planet hangs in the outcome.​

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EVACUATE AND RESTORE
(Humanitarian - Attn: Guildmarch, Healers & Non-Combatants)

Civilians are trapped in the choking fog, cut off from escape by droid patrols and anti-air cannons. Mandalorian medics, engineers, and militia rush to evacuate survivors, dismantle heavy emplacements, and reopen starports. The struggle for Serenno is not only one of blades and shadows, it is for the lives of its people.​

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FORGE YOUR OWN PATH
(Bring Your Own Objective)

The battle for Serenno is wide and chaotic. Beyond the starport, the garrison, and the Chorus, countless smaller opportunities emerge. Hunt down Dark Side adepts rallying in hidden shrines, sabotage droid patrols in the outskirts, reclaim lost neighborhoods, or carve your own story in the fog. The city is a battlefield, and every choice shapes its future.​


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Carannia was a shining example of a capital city almost all the time. The politics of Serenno were known across the galaxy, and Carannia was the crowned jewel of those stories. More political intrigue and double-crossing had taken place here than on most other planets in the galaxy combined. It was a gorgeous city steeped in its own trouble, but now it had more than its own problems. Where once local birds would be singing, now came the metallic clank of droids in the streets. Where you might once hear live music inviting you to a local cuisinery, you now had the sound of anti-air guns firing in timed intervals. Adonis seemed to always find himself in the gorgeous places when they were torn to shreds in war, but that was the life of a soldier.

You didn't have to be a Jedi Master to feel the taint of the Dark Side's slick on everything, like oil across water. The fog wasn't just making it hard to see, it was dulling every sense there was. That, mixed with the constant barrage from the anti-air defenses and the swathes of battle droids that threw themselves at the Mandalorians, made for total chaos in the streets. The Great Heathen Army had been called to pierce a line in their defenses, giving the rest of the Mandalorians a chance to make a clean landing. It was near suicide, just how Adonis liked it.

His helmet moved from side to side as he scanned the battlefield. They were making a dent in their opposition, but if they wanted to succeed, they needed to make a push. Every breath felt more and more like they were drowning in the miasma, like they weren't going to get out of here easily, but Mandalorians weren't bred for easy. They were bred for impossible.

The Knight dodged at the last second as a blaster bolt whizzed past his head, a clearly delusional droid on the other side of the weapon realizing what it had just done. With the Force, he dragged the droid over the side of the building it was on, slamming it into the ground a couple of times. The other two droids that had been flanking it started to panic, realizing what they had done.

All they would see before they were cut down was the flare of a jetpack and the ignition of a blue lightsaber. Their cold chassis clanged and twitched as servos went limp. He had started it now, he had made a strike on their forces himself. He looked back toward the Mandalorians that had followed him; they were doing the same as he, engaging the enemy where they stood. From his vantage, Adonis could see a couple of coves that would make good cover, and they had a clear line of sight to the backside of the first anti-air tower. That would be where they made their stand. They needed to clear a path to the guns, and to do that they needed a location to start.

"Follow my lead. When you see the signal, converge on my location!" The Mandalorian's voice carried through his helm to the others around him. He looked back down toward the plaza he wanted to take. They would have one shot at a cohesive attack. They were outnumbered, but one Mandalorian warrior was worth at least ten droids, if not more. The small ones were one thing, but he feared there were more waiting behind the line. Fear was a luxury not afforded to The Great Heathen Army, however, and he pushed forward.

He reached for the large repeater on his back, thinking he would provide cover fire while they advanced. Before unleashing a barrage, he lobbed an ion grenade into a group of battle droids patrolling the plaza. Their mechanical wails cut short in a burst of blue light as the explosion consumed them. Well, they knew they were there now.

"Alright, let's go! We take this, then we take the tower! Oya! Oya!" he called out, hefting the repeater into place and laying into the surprised droids. Sparks and blaster bolts filled the air, jetpacks roared, and the plaza erupted into chaos.

This plaza would be their beachhead.

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TAG: OPEN
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Gear: Athena's Beskargam, Athena's Bes'kad, Euk Siha Service Knife, Stormbound Aegis, ZV1 Mentor Blaster Carbine, Madrugar Repulsor/Blaster Hybrid Revolver

Tag: Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV , Open

In the galaxy, what seemed put down, always seems to smolder, waiting to rise again. On Onderon, Adonis and Athena had returned after the Mando'ade crushed the oppressive gangs to clean up the gathered survivors among the Stormguards. Not long ago, Those same Mandalorian warriors sent the Diarchy-friendly nobles of Serenno to flight. Athena was among them too, raining fire from above astride Miit'alor. And now, those same exiled nobles returned, but with a sinister power and an unexpected clanking army.

But, most of the vod didn't complain. Battle, even against a foe thought vanquished, was still battle. Battle purified, it burnt the dross from a warrior, refining them with each engagement.

This time, the dragon remained home. Seranno was rife with anti-air batteries, too thick for the beast to take to the air. And droids didn't burn as well as flesh did. Still Athena the Protector returned, and now, following Adonis again, she raged against the metalic defenders of the fortified spaceport.

She had become skilled with her new weapons. The stormbound shield on the Korun's arm not only blocked the barrage of droid blasterfire, it absorbed it. The shield stored each blast, the white-blue arcs of electricity dancing along its rim, as if eager to unleash its lightning. Jetpack ignited, Athena rocketed upward, level with a line of battle droids atop a low building. Their blasters bolts slammed into Athena's shield in vain, only charging the coming doom.

Slipping the shield from her arm, powerful arms flung the heavy beskar disk a the droids. It swung around and slammed into the rank with an explosion of white light, arcs of electricity surging through the droids, even as the shield streaked through them, severing their bodies at the joints. Athena's armored arm lifted hight and the shield careened to its owner, mounting again onto her arm.

Then, in her helm-comm, Athena her Adonis' signal. She jetted to his position, looming over the plaza. Shield on one arm, blaster carbine in the other, Athena settled next to the knight for a moment, admiring the savage barrage from his repeater as he cut down ranks of droids. "I love it when you use brute force." She teased in in a private comm, then descended upon the plaza with her vod as they engaged the defenders.
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Gear: Sanguina's Beskar-gam, Euk Siha combat knife, SM-10a pistol, beskar-shod quarterstaff, blood rite paraphernalia

Tag: Open

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While her warrior vode braved the myriad ranks of House Malvern's droid army to reclaim the capital, Sanquina and the Spiritspeakers confronted a much more sinister foe. Malvern had come across some evil find in the remote mountains, and under the influence of some dark entity, was able to wield the corrupt miasma that engulfed the compound of the Mandalorian garrison.

The Bloodmother had prepared, for the power of the dark fog was permeating and insidious. Her beskar'gam was stained with ritual blood, and beneath her helmet, smears of sanguine painted crude runes on her forehead, over her eyes, ears, nose and mouth. The crimson symbols on skin and armor served as protection, imbued with Manda, blessed by the spirits of the Mandalorian bloodlines buried in the blood.

The blood shaman crept into the thick fog. It was desperately isolating, not only blocking the view of her peers, but instilling the taint of loneliness that penetrated to the bone and marrow. Even with the supernatural barriers, Sanquina had to reinforce herself with cryptic incantations whispered on red-stained lips. Only then, did she sense the Manda envelope her, like a warding cloak. Her visor's sensors ran the gamut of visual spectrums, seeking physical enemies.

She opened herself to the Manda, and the voice of the Spirits, as she stalked deeper into the thick corruption.
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BREAK THE GUNS
"From exile we return, and from shadow we reign."

The miasma hung heavy within the starport, swirling through the wide avenues of ferrocrete and glass with a life of its own. Crimson banners marked with the sigil of House Malvern stretched down from the towers, and beneath them, endless ranks of droids stood in ordered formations. Their photoreceptors gleamed faintly through the fog, red motes within the shroud, awaiting only the commands of their master. Hadrian Malvern stood at the heart of it all, cloak brushing against the permacrete as he surveyed the defenses with the quiet authority of one born to command. The Dark Side whispered through every breath, steadying him as it had from the moment he knelt before the void.

“Report.” he said, voice cutting through the distorted haze.

A nearby commando droid strode forward and dropped into a low bow before him. Its vocoder croaked with mechanical certainty. “Lord Malvern, Mandalorian forces have breached the outer perimeter. Their numbers are increasing. The Great Heathen Army advances on the plaza and several squadrons are engaging anti-air defenses.”

Hadrian’s lips curled faintly, though there was no warmth in the gesture. “So they come. Let them break themselves upon these walls, let them choke in the fog they cannot banish. Serenno belongs to House Malvern, and today it shall be proven. Ready the guns, and drive them into the ground.”

The droid inclined its head and relayed his command across the comm-net. Instantly, the starport erupted with renewed ferocity. Anti-air turrets rumbled to life and loosed sheets of crimson fire into the skies above. Platoons of B1 battle droids lurched into motion, their clumsy cadence drowned beneath the synchronized thunder of super battle droids marching in perfect lines. Droid tanks hummed awake, repulsorlifts growling as they advanced to cut off the Mandalorian push.

Through the veil of shadow, Adonis and Athena would find themselves beset on every side. Columns of droids surged from the alleyways and poured down from elevated walkways, filling the plaza with a tide of durasteel bodies. Blasterfire streaked in relentless volleys, pinning Mandalorians into cover wherever it could be found. From elevated turrets, droidekas unfurled with practiced precision, their shields flaring into existence as their cannons spat searing streams into the advancing warriors.

Yet Hadrian did not shout or rage as others might. He stood still upon the command dais, eyes closed for a heartbeat as he allowed the darkness to flow through him. It whispered of victory, of chains broken, of banners raised. The Mandalorians would find no glory here, only a graveyard of fire and steel. Serenno would be his again, and he would carve that truth into the galaxy with every drop of blood spilled in this starport.


 
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CLEANSE THE MIASMA
Vytal hung out the side of a gunship, a lone hand kept her secure to the craft as it sailed through the air. Bright green eyes observed the region below over a dark downturn to her lips. "Set it down there," the Witch called out as she pointed to the landing pad for the garrison fortification enveloped in darkness.

Being unaccustomed to mysticism, many Mandalorian warriors were eager to plunge into the nightmare. Too eager, but now was hardly the time to educate them. They could use the ignorant confidence now to reclaim the area.

"Remember what I said. Little that moves down there will be friendly. Do not explore alone. Signal if you find anything." Vytal looked into the interior of the ship at the squad of warriors that'd accompanied her. Whether they were all soldiers or a mix with spiritspeakers -- as Mandalorians called them -- or Force users, Vytal had imbued a crest on their armor. A flame with a light glow of otherworldly magick. The sort that would keep them alive in the miasma; long enough to secure the area so they could purge it of the dark influences.

Once the gunship touched down, the pale Dathomiri woman hoped down to the landing pad and moved out of the way as the rest poured forth. She then flicked her wrist out before her and a translucent, simplified map of the area appeared. It would be enough for her to know in what direction a particular Mandalorian went should they need help. "Move out."

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Sanguina Krev Sanguina Krev | OPEN​

 

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B R E A C H
Objective I - Ord Canfre
Tag:
Aselia Verd Aselia Verd

A silver Beskar spear erupted from the darkness as it stuck a Command Droid in the chest, pinning it to the ground as sparks flew from where the tip had exposed the internal components of the droid. The droids arms reached for the spear attempting to rip it out before blaster bolts erupted from where the spear had originated from, the droids body going limp as a hail of blaster fire followed from the darkness suppressing the droids position.

The member of Clan Ordo stepped from the darkness as he looked back towards his comrades and waves them onward, the squad erupting in action from their concealed positions and descended on the droid position as Drexan moved to the Beskar spear ripping it from the droids chest as he twirled it in his hand, a blaster repeater slung across his other arm, attached to the spear the flag of the Mandalorians waves in the heat of battle, the edge torn from the many battles the spear had been apart of.

The sounds of battle echoed around Drexar as he heard the battle cry emit from his brothers, "For Mandalore!" All Drexan could do was watch as his squad cleaned house with the remaining sentry of droids as a voice emitted from his helmet, "Master Ordo, Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV and Athena Faar Athena Faar have made breach on the first set of guns the assault stands well across all fronts so far." Drexan let out a grunt, all he could do in the term of noise since his throat was shot taking away his ability to speak when he was just a young Protector.

Drexan moved his hand to his wrist, hitting a small botton on his wristpadd that sent a chime to his squads helmets after their small skirmish ended their eyes shifting towards their leader. His hands started giving commands, telling them in non-verbal way that it was time to push forward with their objective.
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The needs of the many...




LOCATION: City Interior
OBJECTIVE: I - Buy time for Mandalorian forces to break through
Tag: Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV , Athena Faar Athena Faar , Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura , Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo , Aselia Verd Aselia Verd





The plan had been simple, in theory. While the main Mandalorian force prepared to smash through the starport's guns, Aiden and his Wolves would dive deep. A rapid strike, light and fast, Commandos, troopers, even green replacements pressed into service. If they could slip past the batteries and cut off Malvern's reinforcements, the starport would fall that much faster.

Instead, they'd flown straight into hell. The first salvo hammered the gunships before they even cleared the clouds. Hulls split, alarms screamed, men were thrown against bulkheads as fire and smoke filled the cabins. What had been a tight formation turned into falling wreckage scattered across the capital. For those still conscious when they hit the streets, there was no time to breathe, no time to regroup, only the sudden, brutal reality of being cut off and surrounded.

Blaster fire ripped down the street as Aiden slid into the shattered frame of a doorway. The wreck of the gunship they'd come in on smoldered in the street behind him, its carcass now just another barricade in the desperate fight. He dropped to a knee beside a buddy team, one man screaming, a crude tourniquet soaked through at his thigh.

Aiden tore his kit open, ignoring the cries as he stapled and patched the wound. Bacta gel hissed, the man's body jolted, but Aiden's voice was flat, steady.
"Two minutes. Then get moving."

The commando nodded, eyes wet with tears. The Rift had made them numb to many things, but not pain.

Aiden rose, sniper rifle to shoulder, and snapped two shots down the avenue, droids crumpled in the haze, before bounding back toward the wreck. He dove in beside his personal droid and the RTO. The machine leaned over the cover, belt-fed gun roaring, brass clattering as it walked fire downrange. When the belt ran dry it ducked back in, turning its head toward Aiden in a gesture that looked almost human.

"Sir, I wish you'd stop exposing yourself like that."

Aiden barked a bitter laugh. "Enemy fire? John, this is a drizzle compared to what we've seen."

"Seventy percent probability of you being hit," the droid replied.

"I've had worse odds." He turned toward the RTO. "Status of the other platoons?"

The man's face was pale. "Sir… we're all downed. We got the furthest, but 1st and 3rd are surrounded. 1st is taking heavy losses, LT wants to speak to you!"

"Patch him."

The holo flickered to life, showing a soot-streaked face in the middle of hell.
"Talk to me, Dick."

"Sir… we're approaching combat loss grouping. Thirteen wounded, six dead, and they keep coming."

"Can you hold?"

"Not for long. Replacements are green, I've got four plus seven left. We're out of time." His tone steadied, grim acceptance in his eyes. "Call it in, sir. My coordinates. We'll take them with us, give you and 3rd a chance."

Aiden froze. The Dire Wolf's magazines were still operational. A cruise missile strike would obliterate 1st Platoon along with the enemy choking them.

"No-"

"Sir, we are cut off. The Mandos won't break through in time. We are out of options." The lieutenant's voice softened. "It's alright, Aiden. The needs of the many-"

"-over the needs of a chosen few," Aiden finished quietly the words settling in his gut like tungsten weights. His hand hovered above the display for a long second before he tapped the command. A countdown blinked on his HUD, and he sent it to his lieutenant.

"You have ten minutes, Commando. Get as many as you can off the X. That's an order."

The man's face split into a bloodied grin. "Blood and Steel, sir!" The feed cut.

Aiden swallowed hard, forcing the grief down as he rose beside the droid and poured fire into the street. Brass rattled, rifles cracked, and somewhere nearby a man screamed that another was hit. Aiden slammed a new mag home, but even as he fought he could already feel the tremor in the earth, the distant thunder of the storm he had unleashed.


Aiden's deep strike force attempted to bypass the starport's defenses but was shot down and scattered in the city. Now cut off and surrounded, they're fighting to survive long enough to link back up with Mandalorian forces breaking through the AA. 1st Platoon is preparing for a cruise missile strike on their position to buy time for the others.
 

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Athena's comm cracked in his ear, her voice cutting through the haze. Adonis laughed beneath his helm, the sound sharp and unbothered despite the storm raging around them. "Then you'll love this," he replied, and with that he surged forward. His jetpack ignited with a roar that cut through the fog, and his sword came free in a blaze of sparks. The blade hummed as if alive, arcs of light flickering from its edge as it resonated with the storm-drenched shield Athena carried. For a heartbeat, the two weapons seemed to call to one another, lightning and thunder, bound together in the chaos of battle, answering the Mandalorian charge.

The first line of droids never stood a chance. Adonis hit them like a thunderbolt, beskar cleaving through steel plating as his sword bit into armored carapaces with brutal efficiency. Sparks showered across the plaza with every strike, cold chassis clattering to the ferrocrete, servos twitching in their death throes before falling still. The miasma curled and swirled around him as if recoiling from the fire of his assault. Each motion was deliberate yet fluid, honed not only by training but by instinct- the rare, terrible instinct of a warrior who embraced the impossible as naturally as breathing. For a moment, it looked like he could cut his way through the whole army alone.

But the plaza did not yield. It roared back with fury. Droidekas unfolded across the avenues with practiced precision, their shields blooming into blue domes as cannons opened fire in synchronized bursts. Repulsorlift tanks rumbled to life at the edges of the square, turrets swiveling toward the Mandalorian line as their guns charged with low, ominous hums. From elevated walkways above, volleys of red blasterfire rained down like a storm. Malvern had answered, and he had answered with everything.

Adonis braced and keyed his comms, voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Vod, hold the line! Push them back!" The Great Heathen Army answered as one. Mandalorians dropped into cover, jetpacks flaring as they vaulted from ruined barricades into flanking positions. Repeater fire tore across the enemy formations while ion charges hissed through the haze, detonating in bursts of blue light that shattered groups of droids into sparking fragments. The air filled with the roar of blasters, the thunder of grenades, and the bone-deep rhythm of warriors pressing forward through the storm.

They had never fought these droids before, not in this age. But they were not blind to what they faced. The lessons of the past endured, carried down from the old clone legions, themselves modeled after Jango. Mandalorians studied history as they studied war, and those records were not forgotten. They knew the weak points: joints, optics, the lag between command and action. It wasn't mastery, but it was knowledge enough to bloody the machines. Yet for all their discipline, for every droid that fell, more came in its place. The tide was endless, the weight of numbers pressing against them like a rising sea, threatening to swallow the plaza whole.

Adonis knew what had to be done. They could not stand here forever, trading ground inch by inch while the guns above shredded their reinforcements in the skies. The tower loomed at the heart of it all, spitting fire into the heavens, cutting down ship after ship before it could even touch ground. If they wanted Serenno, they needed to silence it, and if they wanted to silence it, they would need to carve a path through the wall of steel and blasterfire that barred their way. There was no waiting. There was no retreat.

He slammed a fresh power pack into the repeater slung across his shoulder, then shoved it aside to grip his sword tighter, the blade sparking as if hungry for the charge. "With me!" he roared over the comms, his voice carrying above the din. "We break their line and take the tower, or we die here. Oya!" Jetpack flaring, he hurled himself into the teeth of the storm, sword blazing as blue light and beskar steel carved a path forward.

Around him, the Great Heathen Army rose from their cover with the thunder of jetpacks and the defiant roar of warriors who feared no grave. Blasters lit the miasma in furious streaks, shields were raised against the storm, and the war cries of Mandalorians rolled like thunder across the plaza. Even as the droids pressed them on every side, the Mandalorians pressed harder, fearless, relentless, unyielding. This was no retreat. This was Mandalorians making a stand.


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TAG: Athena Faar Athena Faar Aiden Wolf Aiden Wolf Hadrian Malvern Hadrian Malvern Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo

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OBJECTIVE II - CLEANSE THE MIASMA

The gunship’s bay door opened, and Jonah moved without hesitation, dropping to the landing pad beside the others. His boots hit the duracrete with a heavy clang, his silhouette cutting into the haze as the corrupted air rolled against him. The miasma pressed like an old enemy, one he had known since the day he was born into shadows. The others felt unease at its touch. He felt its hunger. That was enough to remind him this was no ordinary fog.

His helm tilted slightly as his voice carried low over a private channel. “Vytal. Sanguina. This air isn’t just corruption, it’s a shroud. It’s covering something. My gut says it’s hiding more than whispers. If we don’t want to lose people in here, the three of us need to keep the others warded while we push forward.” There was no flourish to his words, only the rasp of a fighter who knew the taste of darkness too well.

Twin beams of light flared to life on the sides of his helm, cutting narrow paths through the suffocating fog. His vibrosword rasped against the scabbard as he drew it free, the hum of its power lining up with the rhythm of his steps. Around him, a small knot of Nite Owls formed up, their visors gleaming faintly through the gloom. He had chosen them for this fight, knowing the experience would mark them in ways training could not.

They pressed deeper into the compound, the silence unnerving in its depth. Sensors scrolled clean across his visor, registering nothing but the static of interference. Yet his awareness reached further than any device. The Force whispered like claws scraping stone, distant yet present, shifting in the fog around them.

“Eyes open,” Jonah’s voice cut sharply over the squad channel. “The scanners show nothing, but I can feel something moving in here. It’s close. Stay sharp.

The Warmaster’s blade angled forward as he advanced, the light of his helm slicing into the veil. Every instinct screamed that the miasma was not just a weapon but a lure, and he was ready to meet what waited within.


 

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OBJECTIVES I & II
"Serenno does not yield. Not to them. Not to anyone."

The chamber was filled with the dim glow of crimson light, holographic lines stretching across the projection table to mark the ebb and flow of battle. Wisps of smoke bled in from the open concourse beyond, twisting through the glass panes as if drawn toward the tide of violence outside. Hadrian Malvern stood with his hands clasped at the small of his back, eyes fixed on the shifting display as figures of light advanced upon the starport from every direction. He turned to the angular frame of the tactical droid that waited in silence at his side.

“Report.” he said, voice low but firm.

The droid inclined its head, vocoder rasping. “Anti-air defenses continue to hold. Several Mandalorian transports have been shot down and survivors are scattered across the city. Droid formations are converging to contain them. However, Mandalorian forces press their advance on multiple fronts. They are pushing toward the central tower.”

Hadrian’s jaw tightened as he regarded the flickering shapes on the display. “Holding is not enough,” he muttered, voice sharpened with cold dissatisfaction. For a moment he closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of the starport, and let the whispers of the Dark Side coil through his thoughts. They spoke of fury, of dominion, of shadowed strength waiting to be claimed. When his eyes opened, a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He struck a fist upon his chest, and the miasma stirred as though the act itself had summoned it. Shadows wrapped around his form in hungry coils, and with steady steps he advanced toward the wall at his flank. The ferrocrete rippled like darkened water at his touch, parting as he strode through it, his body vanishing within. In the next instant he emerged upon the battlefield itself, smoke and haze curling away from his form as if recoiling from the void.

The clash of battle raged around him. Droid ranks fired in endless volleys, Mandalorian warriors surged forward with jetpacks and blades, and the thunder of the Great Heathen Army roared in every corner of the plaza. Into this storm Hadrian descended with measured steps, his blade whispering free of its sheath. A Mandalorian warrior vaulted toward the tower, defiant even in the face of the advancing machines, and Hadrian’s sword pierced through the warrior’s chest. He twisted the steel with merciless precision before casting the body aside.

“Commando droids,” he called, voice rising through the chaos, “with me!”

At once, the elite machines responded. Four broke from the ranks, their metallic limbs propelling them in a flanking charge toward Adonis Angelis, weapons blazing as they sought to drown his defiance beneath their synchronized assault. Hadrian himself turned his focus elsewhere, his stride steady as he advanced upon the position of Drexan Ordo. The spear-wielding warrior had carved through Malvern’s forces with precision, but he would now feel the full fury of House Malvern’s heir descending upon him.

The miasma thickened as Hadrian pressed forward. The fog did not merely obscure the field now. It invaded. It seeped beneath beskar plates and into the marrow of those who strode against him - both at the Starport and beyond. Warriors would feel it first as a chill that no fire could banish, creeping beneath their armor and burrowing into their flesh. Then came the suffocation, an invisible hand clutching their throats, dragging at their lungs until every breath became a desperate struggle. No matter how they clawed at the air or struck against unseen foes, there was nothing to strike. Only the mists. Only the fog.

And within that fog, Hadrian Malvern moved as though born to it, the shadow of Serenno given flesh, his sword rising to carve his defiance into the storm.


 


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OBJECTIVE II
"School your thoughts," the Dathomiri woman hissed. "This is more than a shroud. It is a mirror." She could describe what it was a mirror of, but that would only feed into their thoughts manifesting the very thing she sought to avoid. There was nothing they could do about the monsters conjured by others in this tainted land.

Just as there was nothing she could do about the Mandalorians forging ahead so bravely. Vytal looked back at the ship and signaled for them to button up if they were going to remain. Then she turned to follow the Nite Owls.

Dark lips turned down as her eyes swept over the immediate area, and her hand touched the fouled surfaces. A dark ritual had been used to conjure considerable power. Dark power. The miasma was not nearly as disturbing as the knowledge of what had likely conjured it, and what it would take to put an end to this nightmare.

 



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OBJECTIVE I :: Observing From On High

Vritra stood atop a building with her red eyes overlooking the plaza below were a number of forces clashed. The miasma of this land failed to influence her. She was above it in every manner. Instead, all of her focus was on the Mandalorians that sought to break through the dark power given to this world and Hadrian Malvern Hadrian Malvern in particular.

Athena Faar Athena Faar , Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV , Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo , Aselia Verd Aselia Verd , and Aiden Wolf Aiden Wolf had attracted her attention. The latter of which was a tempting target to offer her services to save his number; she would have it not for a prior encounter with the Wolves that yielded nothing of worth. Vritra had warned their commander of the suffering and loss they'd endure on their fool hardly quest. She could have given them everything they'd ever wanted or would want, for a trival price of service. And they'd spurned her; perhaps it was a lessons they'd learn if enough of them perished.

As for the rest... Vritra was curious to taste the desire and yearning within their very soul to see if any of them might be open to an invitation. Hadrian was doing well enough harraying his invaders. There was even a chance he might win, which would be a delightful surprise. Eventually those granting his power would have to find someone capable of bleeding the Mandalorians.

OPEN​

 


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Gear: Sanguina's Beskar-gam, Euk Siha combat knife, SM-10a pistol, beskar-shod quarterstaff, blood rite paraphernalia

Tag: Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura Jonah Jonah

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Before long, she felt it's weight. They knew the fog was woven from Darkness, but only when immersed in it's chill embrace did Sanquina feel it's potency. The comms in her helm crackled to life, Sanquina finding familiar voices welcoming, as if startling her awake from the numbing penetration of the miasma. And it was growing stronger, more insidious. Jonah and Vytal were right, there was greater danger here than imagined.

"Affirmed." Sanquina replied. Noting the Dathomiri's position, Sanquina hastened that way. The miasma did not relent, rather, it crept in more invasively, through seams in beskargam, through heavy fabric. She snatched a tiny vial from a compartment in her armor. Tilting her head back, she crushed the snall container between gauntlet fingers.

The Manda-laced blood within ran down her neck and beneath her chest plate, bolstering her defense against the sinister fog, the murmured incantation a petition to the spirits to keep the dark mist from vexing her mind and cursing her body. But the miasma contorted the things of the spirit. The Shaman felt the strain.

The miasma was blinding, her helm's sensors straining to discern anything of note, but soon the shape of the tall witch took form, like a wraith, in the fog.

"Sister." Sanquina greeted Vytal, noting the Nite Owl's crowded close. As the Blood Mother approached, she felt the Dark Side licking at the Nethermancer. Vytal would know more of the cursed miasma's nature, and perhaps a counter. "What is it we face?"

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Gear: Athena's Beskargam, Athena's Bes'kad, Euk Siha Service Knife, Stormbound Aegis, ZV1 Mentor Blaster Carbine, Madrugar Repulsor/Blaster Hybrid Revolver

Tag: Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV , Vritra Vritra Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo Aiden Wolf Aiden Wolf

The plaza was alight with the flashing latticework of blaster bolts, streaking in every direction. The Mandalorians had charged into the ancient droid army, reaping metal bodies and leaving heaps of scrap in their wake. But their number began to wane in comparison to the increasing ranks and variety of Malvern's mechanical defenses.

The enemy's fire became withering, pinning down the vode. Athena crouched behind two fallen battle droids, meager cover, but for the aegis shield on her arm. She activated the rim, and a series of beskar scales unfolded, expanding the shield's size. Crackling sparks danced around its edge, some stretching, even streaking off, towards its sibling, the bes'kad in Adnonis' hand. The sword and shield fed one another, forged as a pair, binding their owners on the battlefield. Each slam of super-heated droid blaster plasma was absorbed by the shield, th energy stored in the mythosaur-emblazoned buckler.

They would not last, sitting behind their cover. But that was not the way of the Mando'ade...ever. Looking in the direction of the Knight and his lightning-bound sword, Athena knew their counter would come soon. Adonis gave his signal, and Athena's jet pack lit up with a myriad of others.

The miasma had thickened, to the point visuals were hampered, and visor sensors sketchy. But Athena was guided by the flury of enemy fire, back to their source. Shield held before her, she knew where the droid ranks advanced. She crashed into them, the impact releasing the shield's furious energy. A near defeaning roar of thunder heralded the lightning strewn sonic explosion that decimated the war droids in a wide swath.

For a breath, much of the enemy fire hesitated. But the miasma only increased as it perpetrated its much more sinister assault. Athena felt it invade, more like a microscopic swarm of parasites than any vapor. The chilling cold penetrated to the marrow, her armor's breather straining to keep it from filling her lungs and mouth. Her skin prickled at its evil, her meager connection to the Force sufficent to sense the profound infection of the Dark Side within the miasma.

Trying to resist it and navigate the foggy battlefield was a challenge. Athena's jetpack sputtered at her fumbled controls, and she skidded across the plaza on the shield, like a sled. The Korun inadvertently cut down several droids before she skidded to a halt. On her hands and knees, The dragon rider struggled to stand, making it to only one knee as she felt the wicked fog embrace her. Gritting her teeth, Athena cursed.

"I...fething hate... " Her words crumbled into a frustrating growl as she forced herself to her feet, lifted her shield, drew her besk'ad and tried to orient herself in the thickening fog.
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OBJECTIVE II

The sensation was there long before heavy boots touched to the ground. There was barely a sound from the effort, silence often being key to these excursions unless the gathered were running into a bloody fray head on. But this sensation had crept up the length of Cordelia's spine before she had even taken her first steps to join the others. No shiver followed it, though the lids narrowed over gray eyes even if they couldn't be seen beneath the helmet of her armor. She could feel the miasma as it licked at the hardened armored shell protecting her body and slowly leeched it's way beneath. But it would not find purchase along her softer colored skin, instead coming in contact with a thin layer of pure will of the Force that protected her like a second skin.
A thoughtful noise hummed from the redhead and she stepped further out as the others did. "A part of me is curious what would take shape amidst these minds." she let out over the comm, but there was no real curiosity in her tone. A dry statement and nothing more.
Her advance paused however when sensation and sensors did not match up. Whatever was lurking, swimming through the miasma, did so without the ability to be detected - whether physical or not, not being able to track a threat made the huntress inside of Delia bare it's fangs. Her left hand dropped to her hip, and while she did not draw the blade there just yet, she was ready to do so at a moment's notice. "Clear minds, open eyes and ears." she growled out, alert now in the most primal way as she again began to follow Jonah.
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C L A W I N G
Objective I - Ord Canfre

The miasma flowed over the battlefield like a thick haze, Drexan's eyes darted in front of him as his squad was enveloped, the miasma rolling up their armor, sneaking through the cracks of the Beskar as they began coughing their blasters laid to the side as they all began to claw at their throats struggling to breath as their lungs struggled against the miasma.

Drexan fell to his knees as the miasma began to invade his lungs, his hand struggling against his throat as his eyes darted across the battlefield, struggling to breath, everything coated in the haze, the figure of Hadrian Malvern Hadrian Malvern striding towards his lines as tears began to flow from his eyes as his whole body struggled. The Mandalorian holding onto his spear tightly to steady himself as he tried to return to his feet before stumbling down again, another coughing fit washing over his body.

A voice broke through the deafening silence of the battlefield, "ALOR... help...us..." The voice of one of the Mandalorians struggling against the miasma filled Drexan's ears as he looked over towards the soldier blood pouring from his neck as his fingers continued to claw at his throat as he struggled to breath.

Rising to his feet Drexan's eyes affixed upon the advancing leader of Malvern as he steadied his spear in his grip, pointing his blaster towards the man leveled towards his chest as the leader of House Ordo's finger curled against the trigger squeezing as a blaster bolt shot towards the man causing pain to his men.


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Objective I: Breaking Guns
Following the Great Heathen Army
Adonis Angelis IV Adonis Angelis IV Athena Faar Athena Faar Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo Aiden Wolf Aiden Wolf



Zet is a man of logic. If it exists, then there's evidence of it, or at least theories and calculations. He is a firm believer in the sciences, reality and logic. So, obviously, when the next mission is heavily invested with the magic of the so called 'Force', he seriously considered voting for orbital strikes. But, sadly, the order was to charge and take the planet the old-fashioned way.

The Force is a half drunk and half crazy individual rolling dice. That is his current theory. And it's lack of respect for the basic laws of the universe makes Zet really dislike it. Not quite hatred, just... dislike put together with healthy levels of suspicion. Some Mandalorians can use this magic and put it to good use, and that is why Zet begrudgingly agrees the 'Force' might not be entirely a bad thing... unlike this planet. Mandalore said 'Go over there and shoot some droids' so Zet is over there, shooting some droids. He hates it though. But orders are orders.

Zet is moving with the army, wielding both pistols and shooting at the droids trying to follow them. Run and shoot, find cover, repeat, and try not to focus on the miasma. Is it growing thicker? Is it... some sort of drug? Maybe magic? Who knows. It feels wrong, and both his oxygen tank and his brand-new organs are not being as effective as they should be, so... magic. Huth on a stick. He crouches behind cover when droids shoot at him, waiting for a chance to fire back.

He is not at his healthiest self, that is true. But he keeps following the group, no matter what. To be alone in this fog, with the city's unknown layout and the droids around every corner, is suicide. On the other hand, to be surrounded by friendly forces has a focusing effect. The sounds of the explosions, blasters and screams are helping him keep his big brain focused on the task at hand. It helps him not think about what the miasma is doing to him. Even his infrared sight is not as reliable as it should be, which is concerning to him. Deep breaths, Zet.
"Hate. Force." He hisses under the helmet. Trying to focus is harder than expected, but not impossible.

Keep moving. Keep shooting. Get to cover. Follow orders. Use jetpacks to move faster. Give them hell. Suffer after this is done.




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The darkness that surrounded the Mandalorians grew restless. It thickened as if shaped by a hand, no longer a distant tickle in the throat but tendrils of the Dark Side choking every breath. Adonis felt his body tense, every alarm in him howling like a hound set against a bear. The fog rippled, then coalesced into the form of a man- a lord of shadows bathed in the evil practices of the Sith. Adonis's stomach sank. He had not felt a presence like this since Harrow, and he had only just stopped waking from nightmares of that trial. Now here it was again, heavier and sharper, dripping with malice.

The figure descended into the melee with unnatural calm, his blade moving like it had always belonged in the slaughter. Mandalorians fell before him, beskar splitting like ribbon beneath a tailor's scissors. Whoever he was, this was the head of the serpent, the true master behind the fog and the droids. Adonis burned to challenge him directly, but the Sith Lord had no interest in an honorable duel. With a single command, he unleashed a wave of commando droids, flanking hard and cutting Adonis off from his quarry. Fury spiked down Adonis's spine. He erupted forward with a renewed charge, smashing into the front lines, scattering droids like shrapnel from an exploding grenade. His lightning blade roared to life, discharging arcs across the masses, bolts leaping from one chassis to the next in the crush of bodies.

Yet the miasma was no longer content to hinder. It dragged at his limbs like grease weighing down machinery, dulling reflexes, sapping strength. His swings grew slower, the crackle of his blade fainter with every strike. For a moment he considered switching fully to his saber, but refused to give in yet. He barked orders over the comms, sending squads to their positions, knowing some were being sent to their deaths- the price of leadership he had learned too quickly. Still, he marked them, each life taken by the fog and fire, to remember later in his prayers.

Then instinct tore his head left. Athena. Her shield flared, still holding against the storm, but she was under brutal fire. Adonis felt a stabbing sensation in his side as his armor protested another impact, but he ignored it. His fury snapped into focus. He hurled himself through the haze in a streak of blue light and raw willpower. His saber dropped into his crushgaunt and ignited midair, carving the arms from two droidekas before they could lock on. With a surge of strength, he seized their twitching husks and flung them into the backline, crashing through the droids pressing forward. His sword discharged again, a lightning bolt ripping through another squad and clearing the space around Athena.

He dropped beside her, his backplate catching the barrage as his hand instinctively reached to pull her up. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice rough with effort. "We have to make our move now, they won't be able to survive much longer." His meaning was clear: the Mandalorians, for all their training, were being crushed under the curse Malvern had unleashed. Adonis could resist it longer than most, his Knight's training blunting the worst of the suffocation, but even he was wearing thin. A cough wracked him- the first sign of the punishment he'd absorbed- before he pressed on.

"I'll take the assault to the guns. You take the rest of the forces and hold off the droids." His helm turned to meet her gaze, his tone iron. "You come back alive. That's an order." He didn't linger, not wanting to leave the weight between them heavy. One last nod, a flicker of shared fire in the chaos, and then he was gone again.

His saber and sword cut forward, cleaving arcs of light through the haze as he broke into a sprint. "Mandalorians, on me!" His voice thundered across the comms. "We take the tower now. Those behind, rally to Athena and hold the line. They will not kill us. Mandalore stands!"

The war swallowed him as he carved a path through the chaos, every strike slower but no less brutal, every step heavier as blood leaked from the seams of his armor. The plaza behind was a storm of fire and thunder, but ahead the shadow of the tower loomed tall, its guns spitting crimson into the skies. Adonis staggered into its shadow, battered and bloodied, yet unbroken. Around him the battlefield erupted, jetpacks shrieking, droids pressing from every side, the thunder of cannon fire shaking the ferrocrete under his boots. He lifted his sword, arcs dancing from its edge toward the control spire above. The objective lay before him, and he would meet it face to face.


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TAG: Athena Faar Athena Faar Drexan Ordo Drexan Ordo Aiden Wolf Aiden Wolf Zet Reav Zet Reav Vritra Vritra Hadrian Malvern Hadrian Malvern

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U N B R O K E N
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|| Objective II - Cleanse the Miasma ||
|| Equipment - Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Knives ||
|| Tags - Sanguina Krev Sanguina Krev | Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura | Jonah Jonah | Cordelia Malkavian Cordelia Malkavian ||

The time it took for us to get here was not long. Yet the entire time, I was confused as to why some sigil was placed upon the armor I wore. Searing it with whispers of flame that were not there. Some kind of protection rune from the Witch-Mando? It confused me slightly but I ignored it for now. Instead, listening to the others who spoke. They had been in combat and conflicts much longer than I. Listening, and responding to them was the only thing I would do. As many others got off of the ships, I landed down with a loud thud. My size and wearing of the armor that had been sized up to fit my stature made me sound much heavier than I was.

However, I was fortunate enough that the armor did fit me well enough. I had been told there were things like enhanced vision in the HUD systems, but I did not have the heart to tell them that I naturally had eyesight that surpassed other humans. Part of the curse. Or was that part of my heritage? I was never told, so I wouldn't know.

The rifle was brought up and leveled to the area. Scanning about as the others moved on. A few steps backward to follow them before turning to fall in with them. Their voices asking of some kind of force. Yet here I was feeling no effects. Sensing nothing but the armor I wore, and the slight nervousness of wanting to perform well. To do my job and prove that I had a right to be here.

Just doing the best I could to follow in suit with these others.
 

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