Mission [NJO + Jedi] The Dark Sanctum

[Valery Noble]

Location: Wizar II
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Caltin Vanagor Qzekov Darien Kovahn Dhalinar Greystar Kyrel Ren Keiran Varn | Open

Moving up to the Sanctum, Valery briefly paused — she could feel both Kyrel Ren and Darth Ptolemis within the building and let out a soft sigh. Either her enemies were working together to be a pain in her ass, or the Maw was running out of Sith and Ren who didn't particularly hate her. Perhaps both, considering all the battles she has been in lately.

But it did present the group with a problem; they were tough ones to handle and with Jedi rushing ahead and the group quickly going into the Sanctum, they were going to run into the two Dark Siders soon enough. At the front of this group, the Jedi strike team had two healers, one of which was her own Padawan, and two others whose skills she wasn't as familiar with.

She had to catch up because she was getting the feeling they'd need her help.

Kyrel Ren... been a while since I've seen that ugly face of his, she thought, as she maneuvered her way up to the Sanctum. The Jedi group had already gone inside and if they were following the presence of the people stuck here, they'd be making their way down into the underground ritual chamber soon.

But Valery's path there wasn't as easy, as two of the Nephilim stepped in her path, blocking her from reaching her Padawan and the others. A few years ago, she had faced these strange guards with their large melee weapons as well, and so she had no doubt about her abilities to take them down. She was just worried that she was going to rejoin the others late and that they'd get themselves in trouble with the two powerful enemies waiting below.

"Come on big guys, let's dance."

 

[Iris Arani]

More came to follow her than she thought. Were they worried about her? Did she split the group by running off on her own? Not that she thought about it long. As she went to respond to Anashja Tal she felt it. A surge of black through the already dim colors. Lethal intent further in. Death. Panic filled her gaze as she renewed her grip on her saber and started to run. Further in. The guards didn't matter, the others didn't. People were dying.

The ritual.

"They've started to kill people!"

She could save them. She needed to save them. That's the only reason she was here, right? To heal? She could do this.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

THE DARK SANCTUM

THE DANCE OF DEATH

Valery Noble Bernard of Arca Iris Arani Anashja Tal Caltin Vanagor Keiran Varn Darien Kovahn Silas Westgard Dagon Kaze Ran Serys Corin Trenor Darth Howl Dhalinar Greystar Qzekov

​

All who entered the Dark Sanctum's claustrophobic tunnels found themselves surrounded by puddles of coagulated blood, discarded rotting meats of various sentients, and skeletal chandeliers holding crooked torches. Numerous smaller pitch-black passageways branched off from the central corridor, but the dark presence of the sacrificial chamber straight ahead inspired the most morbid of curiosities in all those who ventured toward its sacrilegious depths. Upon its tall, hinged wooden door were inscribed letters of the Sith language; three expressions burnt into it that served as both the first and final warnings for those who wandered astray.
​

XISAD. ASKAL. J'US.
ALWAYS. BEHIND. YOU.

​

The severed head dropped and rolled away on the dusty floor as the Wrath of the Maw sliced skin and sinew with his lightsaber. The silence that reigned in this temple of despair was brutally broken – the panicked cries of hanging slaves surged up in waves. A chorus of souls for the procession of the Sith. The eyes of the Ren and the Sith met, and the former spoke.
​

“Sounds like old times.”

The Sith nodded, but before he could reply, the result of the sacrifice materialized immediately. From one of the bubbling cauldrons, a clawed hand emerges. Slow, unsure intricacies characterize the as-of-yet bodyless limb, yet its movements are not random. The clawed hand that rose from the black liquid grabs onto the side of the cauldron, and soon another hand joins its efforts. Ptolemis watches as the scene unfolds and the profane truth behind the mystery is revealed; a Moon Child climbs out of the disgusting muck, only clad in the soot and blood of the soup it was birthed from. It drops on the ground in a fetal position, but its predatory instincts soon kick in. After stumbling two more times, it tears the door ajar and charges up the corridor that leads to the chamber. Guttural growls echo up and down the Sanctum's alleys as the mindless creature races off to find its first prey.

The master of the ritual turns away from the door and looks up at one of the screaming slaves. With fearsome momentum it yanks one of the subjects to himself through the Force and casts it face down into the stone floor at his feet. – A saber needs to end their lives in order for the incantation to take effect. – Ptolemis' saber ignites and the slave is quickly decapitated. No enjoyment, just calculated slaughter. – Powers of the Bogan won't work here. The release of death needs to be delivered… by hand. – The process takes a long time, but with each passing minute more and more lives are about to be lost. Larger units require a larger group to be sacrificed simultaneously. Such logistics the two dark figures do not have time for. The only thing they could do now is overwhelm the encroaching Jedi with hordes of bloodthirsty Moon Children.​

 

[Keiran Varn]

ENTER THE DARK SANCTUM

LOCATION: WIZAR II, WIZAR SYSTEM, WILD SPACE
OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE
EQUIPMENT: SINGLE-BLADED AMETHYST LIGHTSABER | HG-54 VERPINE HAND CANNON
ALLIES: Valery Noble | Qzekov | Caltin Vanagor | Dhalinar Greystar | Silas Westgard | Anashja Tal | Darien Kovahn
FOES: Kyrel Ren | Darth Ptolemis

​

A smile creeped onto his face as he watched the Mandalorian and the other Jedi rush into the Sanctum without hesistation. He had bought them the time, and completed what he set out to down, now, it was time to ensure his own survival. Keiran struggled to stare up at the behemoths, straining his neck to try and catch a glimpse of its face. Suddenly, the bottom half of the rustling cloak that draped the monster like a tarpaulin began to move even quicker. "Uh oh." He caught sight of a large object, long and shapely, with five appendages at each end. The object began to rise into the air, casting another shadow over the Jedi which almost left him in pitch dark, as if someone had simply turned off a light switch. Then the object came down fast, and straight for him. Almost without thinking, he pulled from deep within himself and leapt, just as it came crashing down, the shockwave not doing him any favours on the descent.

"Ouch.." He moaned, noticing that he had landed in front of the large mouth-like entrance, which seemed ready to consume him, to take him in and never let go. Through a slit between the two giants, who seemed to ignore him, as if he were an insect, he noticed, Iris' master, Valery Noble, stood before them, ready to fight. An extraordinarily skilled Jedi Master, he was sure she could battle them, but for how long, he wasn't sure. For now, the two were separated, and he could only warn her. "MASTER NOBLE, RUN!" He screamed out to her, his voice going hoarse. It was at this moment, before he was spotted, Keiran decided to put into action, his best strategy. Picking up his lightsaber and clutching the side of his abdomen, wincing as he went, he dashed into cavernous sanctum, after Anashja Tal and Iris Arani , hoping that he would catch them in time.

Jogging the final stretch, he made it towards them, nodding to Master Kovahn, who stood a distance away. A great wave of death and despair came on him, washing over him, blocking his thought and clouding his judgement. A great darkness, thick, black and heavy seemed to permeate the aura of this place. In tandem with the poorly maintained lair, numerous jagged, razor-sharp stalactites, positioned as if to drop on his head and pierce him, it was a place that did not get many visitors, and did not seem to want any. Suddenly, a small scratching noise seemed to enter his ears, growing increasingly louder and louder. During his trip across the galaxy, he had learned the technique of Theran Force Listening from the Listeners on Nam Chorios, which could greatly benefit him in this.

Closing his eyes and concentrating, he let go of the shuffling and idle chatter of the others around him, and the sound of water dropping from stalactites. He let it all melt into the background, as if it were music. This cave might've seemed devoid of life, but.. surprisingly it wasn't. Keiran could perceive the chittering of insects, the smooth, random sounds of running water. But then.. then he heard screaming. No. Bloodcurdling, ear-splitting screeches that seemed to gnaw at his ears, and filled them with fear. Keiran's eyes widened greatly, as he stumbled to the ground. Then he heard a scratching, clawing noises, the type that indicated movement, and the vibratiions were moving fast. Jumping up, he pushed passed Anashja and Iris, and immeadiately went for his lightsaber.

"S-something's coming, and it's coming fast." The Jedi mouthed, almost inaudibly. He seemed clearly very spooked about something and his eyes darted all around him.

 

[Anashja Tal]

Location:
Equipment: Beskar'gam, lightsabers, healing supplies, 3 thermal detonators, EF-M401e Rampage, Healing Blaster type A​

Allies: Valery Noble Dhalinar Greystar Caltin Vanagor Iris Arani Keiran Varn Qzekov Darien Kovahn
Enemies: Kyrel Ren Darth Ptolemis

Spoiler: Anashjas ship - in orbit

The Tal'din

Hangar complements of Læknar-class medical dropships

Anashja heard the bestial roar, it sounded almost human, but a human that has experienced pain to push them beyond the normal boundaries of what that definition entailed. Keiran Varn ran past the pair to engage, Anashja looked at Iris Arani and gestured with her head that they follow. What greeted her reminded her of Odessen, when the mawites charged without heed to their own losses and with nothing but savagery in their eyes. The first lunged at her from the shadows and she swept her saber down, cutting through its spine, but before it gave her a nasty scratch across her exposed arm with its claws. "Fething hell!" she was clear of foes for now. She winced as she sprayed Bacta-H on to the wound from her wrist mount and let the healing gel do its work.

"They go down easy, keep pushing forward." just as she said that, another ran round the corner and Anashja lifted her arm and offloaded her pistol several times into its chest and head, putting it down. These creatures were no match for a trio of highly skilled warriors, but they weren't intended to defeat them, only slow them down long enough for ritual to progress. "Keiran! You look injured? You OK?" Anashja was a powerful healer, but she needed to know when people were injured for it to have any benefit at all. She continued to follow him down the corridor, edging ever closer to the ritual chamber as they went.

 

[Iris Arani]

No. No. No no.

Another light went out. Another died. Another was cut down. Panic filled her mind more now. She was here to run through. Save people. That's what she was good for, right? The others could fight, but she could heal. Protect. The Moon Children came, their aggression and hate staining the colors around her as she kept trying to push forward. Get to the chamber, stop the ritual. Get the captured people out.

But she couldn't. Her blade sliced through the air, blue arching through flesh with quick trusts, jabs. They had no weapon or armor to stop a Lightsaber. But they swarmed. So many just swarmed. The Padawan whimpered, desperate to try and get through. They needed to get through. Iris blinked as a bladed fist caught her gut. In her panic she'd failed to realize she didn't fully incapacitate one of the Moon Children. She stumbled back, setting a hand over the fresh line of red before flicking her blade. Ending the life that had just tried to end hers.

There were too many. She gritted her teeth, one hand cradling her stomach as the other kept her blade up. Defending herself. Was this her fault? Had she been too eager?

 

[Darien Kovahn]

Location: Wizar II
Allies: Valery Noble Anashja Tal Keiran Varn Iris Arani Qzekov Caltin Vanagor Dhalinar Greystar
Enemies: Darth Ptolemis Kyrel Ren

Stepping forward with his lightsaber held out in front of him, Darien peered into the darkness, trying to discern what was in the corridor laid out before him. That's when he started to hear the noises. Panting, jibbering, shrieking that sounded almost inhuman, and the sounds of scrambling coming in their direction.

Then the memories came.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Bodies of his men. Torn apart. Blood and guts splattered everywhere. Those things. Too many. Too many to count. Overwhelmed. Going to die. Ripped apart like his soldiers. No.

Must survive

Something burning inside.

Must survive

It's growing stronger.

Must survive

Burning hotter.

Must kill to survive

It's taking over.

Must kill them

Hatred. RAGE.

MUST KILL THEM ALL

He was then brought back to reality by the Mandalorian's curse, just in time to see one of the Moon Children lunge at him, with Darien swiftly bisecting the creature. More came at him, leaping into his lightsaber strikes as he cleaved through them. Too many. They just keep coming. Kill one and two more take their place. Desperation starts to take hold, Darien's assault becoming more frantic and aggressive. Not again he thought, slicing through more and more of them, a familiar burning rising up within him. A bladed fist caught him in the arm, his armour catching the brunt of it, but it still hurt all the same. Darien viciously retaliated by slashing through the Mawite from its shoulder, cleaving it diagonally. The burning was strengthening, threatening to take over as it did before.

Not again

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

THE DARK SANCTUM/THE CORRUPTED FOREST

”’ A good lifeguard never gets wet. ”- Old saying ​

” Even Masters make mistakes.”

[DarkBlue]Sorry guys, this reunion is going to have to be cut short.

Without waiting for acknowledgment, Vanagor turned on his heel and began running towards the Dark Temple. Ren was not out here, and it was no bluff, it was a mistake on the big man’s part, the darkness was not the stench of death, maybe it was, but not the undead. It was what drew him out there and that made the assumption of the Master of Ren roaming these treelines to be erroneous. Maybe it was jumpiness, maybe it was the feeling of needing to fully cleanse the forest, maybe he just wanted a good fight. None of that mattered right now as it was a certainty that there was more going on in that Temple than even Valery knew about.

It was clear that the massive Jedi Master had cleared as much as he did in the way of Cirihut patrols as there were only bodies strewn about and weapons lying broken on the ground. It was unfortunate, but it was them or him, and it would not be him. So without further thought, he plodded forth until coming out of it back at his ship. The blasted woodland had him all kinds of turned around and lost, but at least now he had a path to take.

The problem is, There were more patrols that seemed to be ready to attack the “strike team” from the rear, but now had their attention drawn to him. They would give nor accept no quarter, this would be sure. The only aspect that would draw them away would be his bifurcation.

Your funeral.


TAG ALLIES: Valery Noble , Iris Arani , Dhalinar Greystar Qzekov Darien Kovahn Dagon Kaze Anashja Tal Ran Serys Corin Trenor Bernard of Arca
TAG FOES: Kyrel Ren Darth Ptolemis Darth Howl

 

[Silas Westgard]

Objective: Take down the Sith
Location: Wizar II
Tags: Valery Noble / Iris Arani / Darth Ptolemis / Caltin Vanagor / Bernard of Arca / Kyrel Ren

Silas waited for a while and saw the rest approaching in the distance, but from inside he could hear the sounds of lightsabers clashing and yells of agony echoing from inside the dark walls of the temple. Gritting his teeth, he went in alone with no fear in his stride, ready for whatever he was going to face. What he saw through his eyes was one of pure nightmare fuel, a sight that would stay with anyone for the rest of their days. Rotting meat, puddles of blood and former vanquished visitors of the temple lay rested in the confines.

The padawan snapped out of his taken back gaze and looked ahead of him, spotting Iris and the knight turn a corner into the dark abyss "Iris! come back! you've got to stay with the others!" he shouted after her, kicking his legs and running down the dark corridor after them in a wild goose chase. He didn't know if he was being foolish or brave at this point, but whatever happened he was going to save Iris and her partner from harm. That in itself was a huge distraction with his senses.

Getting closer and closer to the bend Silas failed to keep note of his surroundings, something of which was nailed into his head during training. He wouldn't realise his mistake until a cloaked arm from a separate corridor swung out to tightly grab him by the shirt. Silas gasped as the very tall figure threw him down the dark corridor behind him his form, leaving the padawan to fall awkwardly on his side and roll roughly on the hard surface below. The teen groaned lightly and got to his hands and knees, one hand stuck to his ribs as he forced over his lightsaber and looked up to his attacker.

The figure towered above him like noting he has ever seen before, with a mace tightly gripped in his right hand that almost seemed taller than he was. This was no ordinary Maw warrior, but a Nephilim guard who began to slowly approach him with purpose. Silas scrambled to his feet and bravely began to back away in a defensive guard, edging further to where the ritual was taking place. Taking deep but steady breaths to calm himself against this menacing enemy.

"You creeps are always tall..." he growled, preparing for the fight of his life.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Within the Dark Sanctum
Allies: Darth Howl Darth Ptolemis
Enemies: Valery Noble Iris Arani Silas Westgard Caltin Vanagor Ran Serys Darien Kovahn Qzekov Bernard of Arca Anashja Tal


Kyrel watched the Sith Lord, his gaze slowly moving to the cauldron of which to his surprise a moon child emerged. One of the Maw’s deadly assets used along with the tall holy guards known as the Nephillim. He could feel the Jedi get ever so closer, even deeper into the sanctum and he didn’t know how to react, a part of him wished to go out and face them head on. The other part of him only remained to make sure the ritual went as planned for another triumph on the road to Tython.

When the Sith spoke, he said on how a stroke of his saber would be the best method, powers of the dark side would not allow anything that didn’t show such brutality. His saber hummed in his hands, pulling more and more beings to different stages of the sacrificial chamber. He looked back to the Sith with such evil intent, his words reflected as much. “I do hope we have enough time… I’m really going to enjoy every second of this… I might enjoy it more than you..” He said taking pride in his old occupation as executioner.

He approached different parts of the altar, his steps heavy methodical to add more terror. When he approached close to his victims, more proceeded to beg. Instead all it did was fall on deaf ears as he acted as if they didn’t cry out at all. He flicked his wrist twirling his saber around just to tease his victims, savoring what kills there was to be had.

Soon his saber hummed loudly with the deaths of more victims, more heads rolling and the blood flowed upon the sacred floor. Watching to see what the Sith Lord would do, there was a series of decapitations, and even more screams from those that helplessly watched. He could only imagine the dread some of them felt to be tenth in line, then fifth, and then finally to be the ones kneeling, head soon to be rolling.

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Wizar II
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Caltin Vanagor Qzekov Darien Kovahn Dhalinar Greystar Kyrel Ren Keiran Varn | Open

So much was happening all at once.

Valery had heard Keiran Varn 's call to run, but that was no option — with lightning speed, the Jedi Master danced between and around the two tall guards, and struck at them with the twin blades of her weapon. She had always been fast, agile, and hardened by battle, but her drive to take these foes down had grown significantly now that she felt her Padawan was in danger. As much as Iris Arani 's decisions sometimes frustrated her, they came from a place of wanting to help and protect people.

She was a true Jedi, and she had one of the most protective Masters looking after her.

For the two Nephilim who stood in her way, it meant a quick end, as the hot plasma of her weapon severed the head of one, and punctured through the heart of the other with a quick follow-up strike. Their bodies hit the floor and without a second thought, she exploded in the direction of her Padawan, who was getting overwhelmed by the sheer amount of creatures surrounding her.

But when the situation seemed dire for Iris, she heard a voice inside of her mind.

<T> "Stand still."​

The Master landed right behind her Padawan and extended her arms outwards. Alongside a loud yell, the Force exploded violently around her in the form of a destructive bubble that expanded and grew — it vaporized the creatures that would have otherwise swarmed the two Jedi, and left the Master and Padawan standing together for a moment.

"Didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?" she nudged Iris and hoped to get her to move in the direction of the ritual chamber. "Let's help those people," she added and together, the Master and Padawan would make their way down the staircase, where Kyrel Ren and Darth Ptolemis were going to be waiting for them.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

THE DARK SANCTUM

THE DANCE OF DEATH

Valery Noble Bernard of Arca Iris Arani Anashja Tal Caltin Vanagor Keiran Varn Darien Kovahn Silas Westgard Dagon Kaze Ran Serys Corin Trenor Darth Howl Dhalinar Greystar Qzekov

​

Outside the Sanctum, too many of the transported Maw troops fell. Few in number compared to what they faced, they were quickly overpowered by the collective skill of the New Jedi that have deployed near the secret outpost on Wizar II. Scattered and divided across the forests and Sanctum premises, they stood no chance against the Jedi Order's Masters, Knights and Padawans. Despite this, despite facing inevitable death, they fought, through gritted teeth and bleeding gums. They held endless surprises, leapt, kicked, swung and roared every second they were alive… And often after. Never was it safe around such fear-demanding creatures. Even with holes punched through their chests by lightsabers, they often grabbed and bit for the ankles of nearby Jedi, as a final act of zealous defiance. The reason for that was simple. They were of the Maw.
​

“I do hope we have enough time… I’m really going to enjoy every second of this… I might enjoy it more than you..”

Inside the dusky sacrificial chamber, the two epicenters of darkness that were Kyrel and Ptolemis kept on butchering the weak. With each addition to the slowly growing pile of heads, another Child of the Moon was birthed forth from the bubbling tar soup, transported through mind-bending distances. The sorcery of the Sith can never be underestimated. The dark side thrived under the shower of tears, and the two Mawite executors bathed in its torrents of power.

But the Jedi just kept on descending toward their dark realm, and there were only two of them. – We are just wasting our forces. – The masked anomaly dourly admitted to the devourer of souls that was Kyrel Ren . – But there is a way to weaponize this situation. – The inception of a cold, uncomfortable truth could be sensed blooming inside the silence of the two Mawite reapers. Both felt the approach of the inevitable. – Stand by the ember pit and grab a slave for yourself. – As the Sith Lord spoke, he walked to the side of the witching circle and pulled a victim into his grasp, physically clutching them by the neck. Their legs flailed, their throats rattled. The Blasphemer gripped tighter to silence the whelp. – When I tell you, end the one you are holding. We can face the consequences later.​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

THE DARK SANCTUM/THE CORRUPTED FOREST

”’ Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once. ”- William Shakespeare ​

"If this were easy, everyone would do it."

Inwardly chuckling, Caltin had no intention of offering any of them quarter. There was no question that they would not ask, and that meant that they would fight to the death. There was no need for him to hold back. It was a shame since this was not how things were supposed to go, but the Cirihut were zealots. In spite of the fact that the Padawans on this trip annoyed him to no end, they were innocent and would not give in. On top of this, each of them, even if experienced and ready to be Knighted, were in over their heads.

The big man was not delusional enough to think that it was up to him and only him to “save the day”. If he was, then Vanagor would be “running to and fro”, okay maybe that was what he was doing in a sense right now but the big man had his reasons. The massive Jedi Master wanted to stop this ritual, whatever it was before it got out of hand. If not for what could happen if it was left unchecked, but because, well, it would make for a really great story to tell over a drink one day.

He had more to fight on the way in, but and was “a bit late to the party”, but the big man was in the sanctum as well and within earshot of Noble giving her Padawan a poke about saving people. The victims of this supposed ritual were her priority and it looks like she was going to be able to complete her objective. The Strike Team was moving all throughout the Dark Sanctum, but there was not one Jedi Master heading into the ritual chamber.

Now there were two.


TAG ALLIES: Valery Noble , Iris Arani , Dhalinar Greystar Qzekov Darien Kovahn Dagon Kaze Anashja Tal Ran Serys Corin Trenor Bernard of Arca Ran Serys
TAG FOES: Kyrel Ren Darth Ptolemis Darth Howl

 

[Dagon Kaze]

THE DARK SANCTUM
THE GREAT ERROR vol. III
Issue #5 w/ Corin Trenor Ran Serys Darth Howl

The unfathomable darkness was no mere blindfold across the eyes; it penetrated the senses and corrupted the mind, twisting and turning until it shaped into the edifice of despair, of loss.

The abyss had stared back.

Eyes blue as his but veiled in sulfur.

The unreachable, unredeemable twin brother lost to this same impenetrable darkness. His gaze nearly left Dagon split in half by a nephilim's scythe, its razor shredding through leather and flesh across his shoulder blade. He ducked beneath the next swing and lunged away from the other's slash through vines as sharp as claws.

"Careful," he whispered into Dagon's ear, "If you fall, what chance will they have?"

He swirled to slice through the Sith whispering in his ear but there was no one there other than the nephilim.

"Hngh! -- afraid of a fight or what?!?" he growled out at the shadows that only grew thicker and thicker.

Dagon hated to admit it, but the Sith's words rang true. He could barely make out the forms of Ran and Corin dancing in the night.

Damn it.

"Steel your minds!!" the Knight's voice bellowed through the darkness at the other two Jedi just as he ducked beneath the slash of another scythe.

The palm of the Sith squeezed tighter and tighter around the trio of Jedi.

They were running out of time.
​

 

[Ran Serys]

Ran winced as the darksider bypassed her mental defenses. "You feel nothing," Ran lied in reply. The hatred she felt for the Sith did not die with the late Lord Jagos. It was something she carried with her. It influenced her in the moments she watched the already decaying forest warp and twist, the tragic nephilim swell in size, and the areas of darkness expand. Just like the illusions before her, she knew better than to feed into the feeling.

"You are correct, Mawite. Slaves should know their place. I found mine in freedom. One day you'll find yours." She probed back. The darksider teased about slavery only to fail to see the irony. They were a slave themself. A slave to their darkside. A slave to their Maw.

Then the Nephilim attacked. It lunged forward with its giant hammer raised high and aimed at Ran. The blunt weapon came down with a loud thud, both embedding itself in the wet ground and splashing mud in every direction. The mirialan force sensitive had sidestepped the massive instrument of death as the putrid smell of decaying flesh and congealed blood emanated from the hammer and filled her nostrils. Then she brought her lightsaber down and cut the Sithspawn's hands just before the vambraces.

It reeled back and screamed in anger.

"I am sorry, Brother." She apologized to the fellow Sith experiment. "It will all be over soon. I promise you that." She pitied the poor creature. It was not like her and would never be.

It charged again. This time weaponless, nevertheless still a threat.

Ran could barely hear Dagon's warning over the stomping gait of the Nephilim, and the ever-present cracking of decaying gnarled trees.

_______________________

Darth Howl Dagon Kaze Corin Trenor​

 

[Corin Trenor]

THE DARK SANCTUM
IDENTITY CRISIS vol. III
Issue #3 w/ Dagon Kaze Ran Serys Darth Howl

He rushed a hand to his forehead, his features tensed even more so as clenched teeth made for an effort to steel himself from the assault on his mind. It rooted itself in his fears, in those worries, and with each moment it seemed to entrench itself even further in the core of it all. Corin closed those lids with force, and furthered that futile effort of mounted defense. It was a burn, an ache, a sear, one he could not evict no matter how hard he vied to concentrate on it.

"No more!" He bellowed, and fell onto his knees.

It started to clear, the clouds in his mind, but the storm was still there.