Private Pomegranate Seeds

[Inanna Harth]

Behelian Canyon, the Netherworld

Inanna sat on a rock near the edge of the gorge, picking at her nails. No mean feat, considering that she only had fingers on her left hand. Her right had been severed at the wrist shortly before the portal closed, leaving her stranded in the Nether, and while the lost flesh had begun to gradually regenerate, her fingers were currently just five stubby little knobs sprouting from her knuckles. She was able to shape the stubs just so for manually manicuring her other hand.

She had been wandering this place for at least a few days without anything to eat or drink. Perhaps owing to the modifications recently made to her body, she wasn’t starving or dehydrated, per se, but she still felt hunger and thirst. The lack of energy meant that she felt lethargic and listless, and her ability to heal from wounds had slowed to a crawl. But so far she had refused to give in and resort to consuming any of the strange-looking plants or dead monsters she had encountered. Because while she was largely ignorant of the ins and outs of this world, there was one rule she remembered from myths and legends which she didn’t dare test the veracity of: Don’t eat or drink anything in the land of the dead.

When the sound of running water became too tempting, she stopped following the river, veering away from it toward what looked like a desert. That was how she wound up near the canyon, perched on her rock, gnawing on her cuticles. Disgusting habit.

At least she was expecting somebody, rather than just sitting there waiting to die.

Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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

Location: Behelian Canyon, Netherworld
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench

[ Maybe I should just end it all... ] ​

Ingrid, as many times since Adrian's death, has been in the Netherworld. She checked the soulshards in the different places to see if everything was okay with them, to keep them safe, or to have something she could take with her to collect them in one place. As always she felt all of them here. Here, in the Nether it was as if there was a Force-bond still existing between them, relief, less pain. In the Realspace, it’s much bigger because she doesn’t feel him there, just the emptiness.

She was just heading to the next place, and for that she had to go through Behelian Canyon. The Empress was used to the fact that the place was always empty, she didn't even see a demon in that place, but now she was barely halfway there when sensed someone's presence. There were a few moments for her to realize it was a living person not a demon. In fact! She knew this aura they had met before. The red-haired woman stopped and tried to recall where she had met this person.

Among her memories came Adrian’s nightclub, the ruined date, where she eventually had to fight two biots. She still regretted that date was ruined, the entire evening. She didn't matter before, because after she was taken home she was with the Sith Lord anyway. But after her husband’s death… But still… The aura belonged to Inanna Hole. She knew who the woman was, though they had never spoken, but that day the Overlord had saved her life. What was she doing here? She is looking for Adrian's soulshards?

However, she could not allow this if the thought was true. In any case, she set off in the direction where she felt the woman. The red haired woman soon arrived nearby, approaching her slowly as she walked, examining the other woman. She was injured, it was one of her arms. As usual, Ingrid was invisible and also hid her presence in the Force. As she got closer, she revealed herself in the Force and became visible. As she usually wore the simple military coat without rank insignia, her face was as stiff as her blue eyes.

"Inanna Hole! You are the last person I expected in this place. What are you doing or looking for in the Netherworld?" her voice, as usual, cold and military, is almost emotionless.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions | Rings X X X X​

A hole in space, black and endless as the void carved itself into existence amidst the arid desolation. Through it emerged a pale woman dressed in red. The lightly armored boots crunched upon the ground as the woman's bright, green eyes surveyed the area. A moment later she turned and began to walk before a shriek came from the expanse at her back.

Log-sized fingers emerged from the deep and curled about the edges of the hole. Perhaps it sought to widen it in order to follow.

Vytal paused, half-turned in place, and etched several arcane glyphs in the air. Another shriek for the Witch's efforts followed as the hole began to collapse. She waited until the passageway had sealed once more separating this plane of the Nether from the other. It might not be the Mortal Plane, but it would still be negligent to allow such an ancient spirit access to a level closer to the Living.

The Nightmother turned forward again and began to move across the barren ground. Curious. Vytal wondered if she'd ever been to this particular region of the Nether. It was not the most colorful, but then the Realm of the Dead rarely was that.

When two figures appeared ahead, Vytal's fingers flexed as she not so gently pinched the realm together to shorten the distance. The Witch appeared off to one side at a strategic and respectful distance until identities and intent became clear. Vytal stood in one place with her chin high and shoulders back.

As for one, an identity became clear quite quickly at that. Though Vytal could not recall ever having met the woman and galactic affairs were not her concern, it was foolish to disregard the existence of those that might undo all your effort. Whether they meant to or not.

"I see why the attention of spirits has been drawn to this place." Vytal's eyes slid from Ingrid to Inanna. Yes there were creatures in this place that would greatly desire a snack, or a means to catch a ride out of the Nether. From the look of the woman's arm a woman might be led to think a 'snack' had already been found; though it was too far regenerated to be mistaken for a fresh wound.

Two fingers encased in light metal retrieved a glass vial from her waist and extended it out toward Inanna. "Have you been here long?" This amount of Water of Life wouldn't resurrect a soul, but it did wonders for the body. Whether the woman indicated she'd trust Vytal enough to accept the offering, however, was the question.

Tag: Inanna Harth | Ingrid L'lerim | Xzeench​

 

[Xzeench]

Tags:
Vytal Noctura Ingrid L'lerim Inanna Harth

"The Hordes of the lost and Damned"​

Along they stood. The Queen Mother's Armies and endless Legions of Shock Troops lay torn asunder by a Civil War that had gone unnoticed by the Galaxy at large. The largest precursor Empire, surpassing even that the size of the Rakatans lay destroyed at the hands of three mere individuals. Mere mortals in the face of the godlike entity that the Queen Mother was known by. But yet, in that final battle on the world of Thearterra. The Catharian Hegemony was no more. Each of its resurgent forces thrown asunder into the nothingness. Leaving only the traitors to pick up the scraps.

Legions who were betrayed. Betrayed by the Queen Mother's horrible ambitions and skill of war. Whose worth became moot after they refused a single order. The choice condemning five entire battlegroups to forever walk the void. As they had now done for millions of years. Once proud soldiers, super-humans. United in the goal to unify the Universe under such a tyrannical flag were lost and forgotten. Those five, "The Lost and Damned" were subject to the horrible powers that mutated this place... considered nothing more than myths and legends to scare away the wary traveler in the Unknown Regions. Now, they have rejoined the fold. Ever yearning for revenge for their betrayal. No longer human, no longer sane. Merely only tools of an angry goddess.

Utterly betrayed and without vision. All who entered their domain, souls of the dead, or even the living in these rare circumstances became misguided targets of their wrath. Unable to determine who or what they were, these Lost and Damned only wanted revenge against the Galaxy. Who saw their betrayal and destruction. Revenge against the Force itself for its atrocities.

For a force once numbering in the billions. They had been reduced to a smattering of survivors. Each surviving battlegroup growing more insane than the last. Each specializing in at least some form of dealing death to their foes, more brutal than the last. From fists, to hands, to blades. To weapons so terrible as to tear the very flesh from bone in a single shot. Unfortunately, it was not the weapons that those who were caught by them feared. It was their leaders. Each more wicked and insane than the flesh-eating hordes they lead. Literally now borne of the energies that created this Void... they could not be destroyed permanently.

---

"The Fiends"

Spoiler: Music

A small group of them entered the Valley. Five or so of the Lost and Damned. Armor smeared red with the blood of the butchered, and damaged over the long millennia trapped here in the void. They appeared to be chasing down a displaced member of the Sith. Who with his casting of lightning hardly could do any damage to their incorporeal forms. Their armor too strong for whatever meek sorcery this member of the Sith could fire upon them. They charged forward, flayed skins on their armor flapping in the air as they caught him. Literally tearing him to pieces with their hands and smearing the blood upon their armor while giving praise to some unknown entity. Intimidating for sure, but they appeared to be barely human. Horned heads, Tentacles for arms. Weapons that appeared to be alive... Perhaps this was just a hunting party... but what may follow may be worse than any storm.

 

[Inanna Harth]

Inanna had been patiently waiting for around fifteen minutes when she saw a figure approaching her from across the wastes. She stopped fidgeting and sat up straighter, squinting into the distance. Feminine figure, red hair, wearing a long coat… huh. It wasn’t who she was expecting, that’s for sure. As the woman walked closer and her features became clearer, Inanna’s eyes widened.

“Oh chit.”

She had mouthed the words silently rather than speaking them out loud, so Empress Ingrid L’lerim-Vandiir likely didn’t hear it. The redhead addressed Inanna by her maiden name and asked her what she was doing in the Netherworld.

While it’s true that Inanna and Ingrid had never actually met, they already had quite a bit of history together. It goes a little something like this: Once upon a time, Inanna needed information from Adrian Vandiir, who at the time was Ingrid’s fiancé. Inanna knew about the engagement, but she still tried to seduce Adrian in order to get the info. It didn’t work. Ingrid wouldn’t have cared either way, but Inanna was a woman of different principles. She felt rather ashamed about the seduction attempt in hindsight, and her sense of guilt and regret had only increased after Ingrid played a role in saving her from an assassin. Now Adrian was dead, leaving Ingrid a grieving widow, while Inanna was happily married. Needless to say, Inanna’s feelings toward Ingrid were very awkward and uncomfortable, even without their finally meeting under less than ideal circumstances.

“Uh… I could ask you the same question, Your… Majesty? I’m afraid I don’t know how formal addresses work. You’re still an Empress, right?” Inanna shrugged. “I’m trapped here. It’s a long story. Do you know a way out?”

Amidst the sheer shock of seeing Ingrid, of all people, Inanna failed to notice the arrival of Vytal Noctura until she spoke. Whether it was the armor, the pale skin lined with arcane tattoos, the glowing green eyes, or the magic rings glittering on her fingers, the Nightmother positively radiated magic. It was like she was wearing a neon sign around her neck that read “Hello, I am a witch”. Inanna blinked at the glass vial Vytal offered, then raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been here a good long while. Also, who are you, and what is that?” She pointed to the Water of Life.

There was also apparently a group of monsters hunting a Sith somewhere nearby, but they weren’t necessarily close enough to draw a reaction from the three women. At least, not yet.

Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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

Location: Behelian Canyon, Netherworld
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench

[ Maybe I should just end it all... ] ​

"I’m not an Empress in this place, so I think Lady Ingrid, Lady L’lerim, Lady Ragal, or Lady Vandiir is the most appropriate address here, Miss Hole. Which you feel comfortable with. I don’t think it’s hard to figure out why… who I’m here for."

There was no point in denying it, after all, what else would she have been here for if not for Adrian? She didn’t follow the woman’s fate, so she really didn’t know she was married. The only thing she could have resented about her was that she stole from Adrian. She didn't care to try to seduce him; she knew both of her husbands had lovers because they were in an open relationship, otherwise neither relationship would have worked. It wouldn't have bothered her, if Adrian would have given in to her seduction..

"Can I help you somehow? I guess you can’t leave this place voluntarily?"

Finally asked; fact and it was true that the encounter was a bit awkward. Despite that, she didn't want to leave her here. She may have acted against her husband once, but she didn't really do enough damage to deserve death. The next moment someone else showed up here. Ingrid instinctively took an offensive stance, but eventually, as it turned out, Nightmother also came to investigate. The red-haired woman was sure that the ghosts had not “signalled” her, since Byss the Empress has been a natural phenomenon here as if she belonged here. She was part of the Nether, but Inanna wasn't.

"I welcome you!"

She hasn't intervened in the offering yet, she won't defend Inanna. Meanwhile, felt something in the distance. She turned there, knowing this feeling, not the first time she felt it here. Ingrid was able to defend herself, however, not knowing if her other two companions were capable of doing so. Although, assuming that Nightmother was able to come here, she was quite certainly capable of it.

"We are not alone, we have to go soon."

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

The Netherworld, it was a blasted hellscape, one that Zachariel had gotten used too. Ever since Zachariel had been released, and in a way escaped, the Queen Mother and her new, 'perfect' realm, Zachariel had been in the Nether. In a sense, it could be considered banishment to hell, for his refusal to ever kneel to the Queen Mother. But Zachariel preferred it to the utopia that the Queen Mother created, that she wanted to force others to embrace. Even if his sanity slipped over time. Could it have only been a few years, or decades already since he was released here? To the others, the so called traitors, it had been millennia, and they bore the scars for it. But Zachariel respected them all the more for it, because they hadn't forgotten their true purpose, until now, when it became impossible to fulfill. When their greatest leader finally died.

They slipped further and further down the pits of insanity, and Zachariel slowly joined them, and he found he couldn't care. At the same time though, he was still looking for a way back into reality, one where he could rule a world, and not wallow in hell. Today, this had him following a squad of marines further away from the main group, eternally seeking a way out. He followed the squad far, always keeping his distance from them, letting them have their hunt. Zachariel wanted no quarrel with them, only a way out.

He hoped there was something this far out, lest the entire trip be in vain. And it was then, that Zachariel felt other presences in the Force. Snapping his head up in the general direction, Zachariel breathed deep of the Nether, scanning the area to see if anyone was there. There were people there, though Zachariel couldn't tell who they were. Drawing his sword in preparation, Zachariel began to stalk closer to them, leaving the Lost and the Damned behind him. He made no effort to hide himself, but he did hide who he was. He knew nothing of them, so they would know nothing of him. Not until they met at least, and they would meet soon enough.

Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim | Westenra Mina

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions | Rings X X X X
​

"A healing potion." The pale woman of Dathomir heritage smiled patiently. "It will help heal you. Time may not always pass normally in the Nether, but a Living Body can still waste away if trapped here too long. If you wish, I can form a magical contract assuring you this potion is safe." A waste of magick to affirm that which was true, but few people trusted a Witch at first glance. Not that Vytal was complaining per se. Trust would make encounters like this go smoother, but it would also make random strangers immediately think you would get them out of whatever problem hounded them. As though a Witch had nothing better to do. They should find a Jedi; those Light-side monks loved running around the galaxy bringing 'peace' and 'order' to everyone.

Vytal turned her gaze toward the other woman present and managed a slight nod in her direction. "And you, Lady L'lerim." No need to be rude, even if the Empress didn't have Dathomir under her thumb. Vytal knew Pom had the matter in hand, but that did not change how fickle Sith could be. It was the only thing that kept Vytal from trying to convince her Sisters to the benefits of technology. Certain technology. A shield generator or ten, for instance.

"I am Nightmother Vytal Noctura of the Solanaceae," she said by way of introduction to Inanna and Ingrid should Vytal not be known from afar.

Ingrid then noted the threat in this region of the Nether. Vytal suspected Ingrid could handle herself being the Empress and not the least bit perturbed by the desolation surrounding them now. Inanna, however, seemed at a bit of a disadvantage. It would be best not to put the woman's very soul in jeopardy by ignoring a nearby threat. "I agree. A temporary stop on Ryloth, perhaps?"

She lifted a hand to conjure a way back to the gate that led to Ryloth. A trivial motion. Vytal's black lips curved downward in a frown after a second. "Curious." Her arm lowered back to her said. It was not common, but there were circumstances and ways to prevent the free twisting of the Nether. Something seemed intent on them staying on the plane until it was done with them.

"Shall we face that which seeks our audience, or seek to depart by foot?" The latter option being loathsome to say. This was not the first time this had happened, but Vytal did not appreciate some Nether Force dictating where and when she was 'allowed' to go in the realm of spirits. Usually such things ended poorly. Even if Vytal scarcely knew the two in her company she was not in the habit of allowing those around her to perish.

Tag: Inanna Yomin | Ingrid L'lerim | Xzeench | Zachariel Steelblood​

 

[Xzeench]

Inanna Harth Ingrid L'lerim Zachariel Steelblood

The Damned Brutally Stripped the flesh from the poor Sith's Bones. Draping his viscera and other such nastiness upon their blood-red armor. They shouted toward the force, sending ripples outward from themselves while giving praise to whatever Dark God they venerated. They were followed by Zachariel Steelblood who had helped indulge them in this hunt. As their animalistic tendencies faded into the void again, and they became sane for but another day. One of them caught sight with Inanna Harth who sat upon the hill while conversing with two others. He shouted something to his compatriots, in a utterly alien language. Unknown to even the most well read.

In an instant, they seemed to vanish from view. Whatever energies making up the Void making them vanish into thin air somehow. Unfortunately for our band of Intrepid heroes, they appeared nearby the three women. Now that they were closer, more important details could be picked out from their mutated forms. Dark Red Bulbs of light peered through their corroded helmets. Some were indeed helmetless, and had their heads exposed to open air, and oh how terribly they cried out in pain and uncontrollable rage. Their armor meshed with their flesh, and faces melded with their helmets. They were human, at one point. But now how the mighty have fallen. Five stood before them, each at least a full man taller and broader than each of them. Two of them had ranged weapons by the looks of it. A dirty great big slugthrower with rounds potentially capable of ripping a man apart. But most of them wielded large Axes made of some metallic material, even archaic swords. Yet they were formidable in the way they sized up their opposition.

"The Challenger"​

One of their number stepped forth. Arguably less mutated than his brethren and still having some resemblance to having a body beneath the armored suit he wore. Appearantly their leader, and perhaps the most sane out of all of them. Though calling him sane would be akin to calling a Sith Lord not sadistic. His armor was bedecked with a panoply of skulls and freshly smeared blood and viscera. He spoke, his voice thunderous and filled with vibrato and insane.

"Harken to thee, Three trespassers in our prison. Seek your deaths? Mayhaps? Or seek something else in this wretched prison. Nay, Say not any. For we challenge the lot of you. A battle to the death, to return our souls to our God. And commend your forms to realspace. For death in battle gives us nigh purpose, a reason to continue our existance to shed blood, and kill the weak. So fill the goblets of blood that guide our people to a degree as to see the Universe drown in the pain and sorrow of the dying and dead. To give ourselves strength. Come, let us measure through force of arms. Rather than through weakness and sourcery."

The Challengers readied their weapons. Drawing swords and scratching axes against forearms. The crests upon their heads nodding terribly as they did so infront of the tresspassers. They howled toward the undulating sky like madmen, Scratching deep holes in their Armor, and cutting the veins in their wrists to lap up the bloody ichor which spewed forth.

To add to their madness, was that none of them bore any presence in the force. As if their souls have been ripped from them in a brutal way. Or perhaps simply lost in the millennia they were trapped... What to do next...?

 

[Inanna Harth]

“To tell the truth, Lady Vandiir, you’re absolutely correct. I was transported here by a malfunctioning portal, one that was made by my former master.” Inanna couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Vanessa Vantai. She was trying to make herself into a ‘goddess’ somehow. At least, that’s how I understand it—she was on my home planet killing people in a ritual to create the damned portal, and I wasn’t about to let her get away with it, so I followed her. But she got away and the portal closed behind her. Now I’m stuck...”

Raising an eyebrow at the Nightmother, Inanna took the vial and stared at it, before heaving a sigh, uncorking the bottle, and drinking the contents. Strong stuff, that Water of Life. She made a face and shook herself afterwards, feeling the effects almost immediately. On her injured hand, the stubby knobs began to grow and lengthen into proper fingers. “Thanks,” she said, nodding to Vytal. “I was hoping for a protein bar or something, but that hits the spot.”

Both Ingrid and Vytal noticed other presences converging upon the area. Inanna could sense it as well. She stood up from her rock as Vytal attempted to create a portal to Ryloth, only for it to fail. Things weren’t looking good. Before Inanna could reply to the Nightmother’s question—running away didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though she had no clue where they would run to—a group of mutants spontaneously teleported beside them, gave a long speech, and issued a challenge.

While the mutants engaged in nutty, gruesome behavior, Inanna rested her newly healed hands on her hips and sighed. Things were never easy for her. “Since it looks like you’re fixing for a fight, I suppose we ought to stay and indulge you,” she said. “But what was all that about ‘weakness and sorcery’? You think using the Force is cheating?”

She lobbed a fireball at the Challenger, then launched a series of small metal balls she had concealed somewhere on her person at his gibbering companions with the speed of bullets.

Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim | Zachariel Steelblood​

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Nothing

Armed with: Boiling Rage

Objective: Get the hell out of the netherrealm.

Current Configuration: Melissa Io (See Bio)

Melissa's appeal had failed and her ruined spirit had been cast into the void as living purple psychic lightning.

It had flashed across the netherrealm in silent, screaming despair. Was this hell? Was this the fate of all The Westenras that died? Through shifting, mutant lands it flashed and raced across the ground in utter madness, its faith in good and reason damaged...

It stopped, feeling something for the first time in weeks...

Compatible Flesh.

It raced towards it. Able to see a ruined blasted landscape, a constantly shifting one was maddening to navigate but it managed.

It finally reached the source of its sensation on a lonely peak.

It was a crashed, crimson X-Wing. Next to it was the mummified, mutated body of a Westenra Copy, its face split open in a triangular manner and covered in spikes due to having gone feral as its cellular reserves of psychic energy had depleted.

The lightning flashed over the body. Completely dead battery, basically. It must have been the copy that was lost fighting in that netherrealm event with the GA. Months ago, it seems.

The living energy decided to take a gamble. It flowed over the drained body, trying to use its own energy to reinvigorate dried out cells...

The mutated body twitched and bubbled and writhed seperated from being SithSpawn only in the fact it had no connection to the Force, and no connection to Sith Alchemy. It was simply a product of highly advanced science.

As the living energy infused an inert form, its flesh continued to rearrange itself, split face and nightmare teeth and spiky remains receeding into the visage and form of a gorgeous woman with gold skin and blonde, straight hair, completely naked.

Melissa took her first breath in days in panicked spurts. Not because she needed to, but because it was the only psychological coping mechanism she really had for such an experience...

She almost screamed, but had just enough self control to know doing that would probably attract the wrong attention.

She rose, flesh still shuddering and rippling for a few more seconds. She immediately began searching the downed starfighter, knowing copies had at least one or two gamma ray lamps in storage, and found the copies, golden, semi-transparent double bladed Lightsaber.

She activated one end, the red blade and pink aura snaking out. She found the torn up remains of her pilfered body's red Catsuit, and set about using what was left of the onboard tool kit to initiate repairs, keeping alert, still half crazed, mad with a desire for revenge on whatever Xzeench had become.

When it was done, Melissa, thoroughly, thoroughly pissed off by this point, had one though beyond revenge for being cast into the void.

Fething this whole damn realm's inhabitants up as hard as she could.

Melissa left that peak with spare equipment, wearing her repaired Piloting Catsuit as she began to sniff out inhabitants to fight, hell bent on vengeance. On ripping and tearing until it was done.

Yelling in fury harder than Mark Wahlberg did after he escaped the river in Max Payne, Melissa departed that lonely peak looking to chew bubble gum and kick massive, ungodly amounts of ass...

...and she was all out of bubblegum.

Melissa immediately found it after twenty minutes of walking through the ever shifting landscape, nearly insane with fury.

Three women were being attacked by mutants. Nutjobs by the looks of it, like every other nutjob in power armor she had come across here.

Melissa activated the flight function in the suit, flying forward silently, onto one of the challengers, and it pretty much looked like she was doing an Altair-Style drop assassination as her blade plunged violently into a skull, before leaping off and violently bashing her weapon against another with Superhuman speed and strength, instantly forcing the burly psycho on the defensive, not even really noticing Inanna Harth , Vytal Noctura , or Ingrid L'lerim save in the sense she was taking some of the heat.

Melissa snarled animalistically, bearing black, metallic fangs, as she ruthlessly attacked, intent on cutting him to pieces as she vented her frustration being trapped here so long...

Zachariel Steelblood

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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

Location: Behelian Canyon, Netherworld
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Zachariel Steelblood | Westenra Mina

[ Maybe I should just end it all... ] ​

"Nice to meet you Nightmother! So far I don’t know many people from the Dathomirian covens, I’ve always admired your ability and connection with the Force!"

She said still coldly and measuredly to Vytal Noctura , but with respect in her voice. She typically encountered Dathomiri magic in the case of her aunt, who also learned quite a lot from them; and it was Xanesh who was familiar with such things. Ingrid typically just read about these, though her necromancy might have been similar to the science of the Nightsisters.

"I can get ourselves back to Kalidan from here, if necessary, but Ryloth is just as good as any other place. Mainly because of Miss Hoole." she agreed with the other woman.

However, the portal apparently failed to open. She felt she alone would be able to travel between the worlds. It had the advantage of being part of Netherworld, but when she tried to create a rift or a portal, she wasn’t able to. Just like the Nightmother.

"Interestingly, I can travel alone, but not open a rift or portal. We will be forced to leave on foot."

Meanwhile, Inanna answered, and at the name, Ingrid sighed wearily and shook her head.

"Always Vanessa Vantai… I heard your case with her about what happened. She tried to get to Lord Vandiir through me when he was not home. She never talked to him… if I think so, Onrai used the Sunstar. According to this, she could thinks that, it is not enough strength and Force she has absorbed already, this could cause trouble later…"

It was around this time that the enemy also arrived, who had a really interesting appearance, and Ingrid sensed a familiar presence among them. Then something else that threw itself at the mutants. The Empress reached out to the Force, far beyond the valley, to summon demons here, and they answered her call and set off.

"Get the girl out of here, Nightmother. I hold these up, I have a personal case with one anyway. Right, Zachariel? I didn't think we would meet here after Batuu, or that you would have the courage to stand before me again."* she said in a cold, emotionless voice.


*Since time passes differently in the Nether than in Realspace, it could easily be the past for him, but for Ingrid already has after Batuu.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions | Rings X X X X
​

"A protein bar?" The Nightmother turned her head away slightly with a smile on her lips as her gaze remain with Inanna Harth . "You will find very few living men of war here with such rations." Yes, yes, or women -- galactic equality of wasting good talent for command and magicks. "The potion will sate your thirst as well, for a time." More so than a dry slab of unknown composition. Oh, yes, Vytal had seen the 'food' some of the martial ways ate. If a Witch didn't know better whoever crafted such things enjoyed fashioning abominations against nature. How had the galaxy forgotten the benefits of dried meats?

The Pale Witch slowly turned her head to look over at the merry band of lost souls ( Xzeench ) that revealed themselves. Was this region of the Nether their prison? How thoughtless of them to intrude. Ah, but whenever was one invited to a place among the Dead except to join them in perpetude? As so kindly made known by their sudden guests. Nay, a Witch did not seek death. She commanded it for a time before she joined her Sisters -- far more pleasant company than flesh melded with metal.

She had nothing to say in response to their philosophy and demand. Her chin lowered so that the green flame in her eyes could shine all the brighter in the shadow cast over them. "Why not both?" With the flick of a hand the lightsaber Kyyrk had extended to her as a gift snapped into her grasp and activated. A saber whose blade was more real to a spirit than they would like. As for the polite offer to engage in martial battle alone... A smile graced her black lips as Inanna Harth answered that well enough.

"Generous, but unnecessary," Vytal replied as the battle swept into motion. The Pale Witch made sure to remain close to Inanna to protect the innocent swept into such a spiritual battle. The Nightmother, however, was not accustomed to ferrying people off of a battlefield. She was no medic with no role to be found in such matters.

Her eyes darted over to Inanna Harth nonetheless. "Remain close. They have already demonstrated command of this realm." A quick notice of Westenra Mina among their hostile guests rearranged the pieces on the spiritual board. "T'would be best if you did not engage them direct. T'would seem our companions have some personal matters to attend to." Best she did not attract attention to herself. The fireball would undoubtedly have done enough in that regard. To what extent they would find out momentarily.

Tag: Inanna Harth | Xzeench | Zachariel Steelblood | Westenra Mina | Ingrid L'lerim​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Stalking towards the newcomers, Zachariel couldn't help but take their measure in the Force. Relatively powerful all around is what he got back, though nothing specific. Then he'd have to learn the hard way. As that thought finished, Zachariel sensed the marines from the battlegroup attack the newcomers. So, he'd learn by watching them fight one another, and also learn more on who they were.

Cresting the nearest hill, Zachariel arrived just in time to watch the champion give his challenge. Smiling darkly at that, Zachariel crossed his arms across his chest to watch the proceeding battle. To any one of the three below him, it was clear that they were being watched. Perhaps the marines would sense him as well, but Zachariel didn't know if they'd see him as friend or foe. More than likely, all of them would believe him to be a foe. To the three newcomers, he was very similar to the marines, and to the marines, all but one another was an enemy.

With his arms crossed over his chest, Zachariel tilted his head forward slightly to observe the battle. It would be interesting to see, especially since one of them was vaguely familiar. He'd met one of them before, one Ingrid L'lerim-Vandiir, though he didn't remember when or where. But that thought process came to a crashing halt as Westenra appeared, attacking the marines with abandon. That gave him a start, arms already dropping as he took a step forward. They may not have seen eye to eye, but Westenra was an ally, so he'd support her.

But Ingrid had other plans, directing a challenge towards him. Staring down at her, Zachariel tilted his head in confusion. So she was Ingrid L'lerim, but he didn't know what she meant.
"Batuu?" That single question opened a floodgate, altering his future, and revealing what exactly she meant. It was very at odd with what had happened so far, and nearly broke his already waning sanity.

Now, two versions of Zachariel occupied his mind, the one before the Brotherhood, and the one after. That clash altered who he'd become, cementing his rise into the Brotherhood. It also irrevocably changed why Zachariel fought. And in the here and now, that changed everything. Still, he considered Westenra an ally, and Ingrid was now an enemy, rather than someone he recognized as a potential ally. Perhaps things would change in the future, but it mattered little. Here and now, Zachariel had two groups of enemies, Ingrid and the marines. And his only ally was one more of convenience and because they had too ally. But he still considered her an ally, so he moved to help her.

Unsheathing his sword from his back, Zachariel strode down the hill towards the battling group. His eyes were scanning them, even as his saner side spoke.
"By your word those events are now inevitable, Lady Ingrid. You've no one to blame but yourself." A sneer crossed his face then, and the mad part of him snarled at her. "So many planets to burn, so little time. I'll make sure worlds remember that you allowed this to happen. Don't worry dear, they'll die slowly." Another shake of the head, and sanity took the reigns. "Our confrontation is inevitable, but I must help an ally first."

It was clear to see that he was mad, two personalities in one body. Semi-sanity and insanity fighting one another. And only one thing on his mind, bloodshed. With a roar, Zachariel leapt forward, jumping towards the marines. He ignored Ingrid entirely, leaping past her to attack the marines. And in this attack, Zachariel neither faltered nor slowed, instead he attacked as to assist Westenra fully.


Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

The Ball Bearings simply bounced off the Challenger's Power Armor. Leaving little other than a series of dents. Fortunately for Inanna, the ball bearings made their mark upon his face. Tearing chunks of flesh from it, and sending little pieces of face in every direction. He only laughed, until the fireball impacted with his mid-section. Burning his exposed head to cinders and leaving little more than a charred musculature, which promptly reformed back into existence. The pain, reinvigorating him and charging his body with energy.

He laughed in the face of Inanna, her weak attempt at killing a literal manifestation of the force being utterly Palpable as he activated his massive glowing claws. Enough to tear a man to little more than pieces. He charged at Inanna, Claws ready to rend and cut. His compatriots, charged as well. Their massive bodies moving inhumanly quickly for their size. They all howled with shouts of praise, and adoration toward their Gods. Faces smiling, and eyes wide.

From the distance, Westenra Mina appeared, looking quite... odd. Even for this place. She charged with relentless fury, cutting one of the Marines to ribbons in but a instant of furious rage. His laughter only corroborated the fact of the pleasure of such as butchering as his soul was sent screaming to whatever Dark God piloted him. His blooded corpse dropped in a instant, before evaporating into the air.

Zachariel Steelblood made his move next. He charged at the Challenger's Second. Whose Power armor groaned under the weight of all the mutations that dotted his body. He swerved from his charge, intent on literally tanking whatever Zachariel could throw at him. Arms spread to catch Zachariel in a deadly bearhug.

The final two Marines charged Vytal Noctura and Ingrid L'lerim , their Axes and Swords raised high as they screamed in laughter, the carnage bringing nothing but joy to their demented forms. They were quite literally tripping over themselves in an attempt to cause first blood. Perhaps to follow whatever Dark God had birthed them. Their battlecries seemed to shake the very ground they walked on, and they seemed to phase in and out of existence at time.

Unfortunately... for our band of intrepid heroes. Another would step forth from the Void.

Spoiler: Music

​

The ground shook, and the undulating bodies of the Netherrealm cracked and crackled with energy. Stepping through it, to horror to all was one of those supposed Dark Gods. Westenra and Zachariel could recognize who that was indeed. It was the Primaris who helped them bring the final battle to the Queen Mother's evil form. Thought dead, after his soul was literally ripped from his body and his mortal form disintegrated. The man who stepped through that portal bore little resemblance to that once vaunted wise and fair leader that once commanded the insane remnants of the Shock Marine battlegroups.

A Son of the Queen Mother, corrupted beyond belief. Soul torn asunder after his death, and similarly reconstituted in a wholly evil form. A far cry to what he once was prior to his death. He was massive, almost as tall as a ATST Walker in height and girth. He wielded a Massive Hammer, whose weight could possibly crush mountains. His armor was mutated, his mind warped and torn to pieces. This was little more than a fragment of a whole being. Similarly to the Queen Mother's form prior to her forceful merging with her better half.

One of the Ten stood before them. Armor writhing in moving runes, and mouth and nose belching smoke and hellfire. He stood forward, presenting his Hammer to our band of intrepid heroes.

"Nothing will save you. You will all die, and forever be damned!"

Fortunately for our band of Intrepid Heroes. The ability to use the force was inexplicably restored. A potential way out of this area was possible... It was only now time for them to go and escape. Not to real space, but to someplace /NOT HERE/. Meanwhile the Primaris roared, and shook the land with his chilling war cry. It was deafening. He moved forward, picking one leg up after the other, until he was in a full sprint. He charged! Hammer in hand, and hatred in his heart!

 

[Inanna Harth]

At some point between launching her fireball, Ingrid announcing she would handle this alone, and Vytal warning her not to draw attention to herself, Inanna realized that she was way out of her league. She was an elementary schooler surrounded by college kids, a peasant among kings and queens, an illiterate in a school of learned scholars. But to her surprise, this fact didn’t fill her with terror the way it would have a year or so ago. Instead, she just felt… bored, like a child forced to sit still while a group of adults drank wine and talked about things she neither understood nor cared about.

So when the Challenger laughed off her fire and metal projectiles then charged at her with claws flashing, his companions likewise attempting to tackle them, she waited until he was mere inches away from cutting her to ribbons before darting upwards and out of his reach, her speed and flight aided by the Force. The Challenger would skid to a halt somewhere past where she’d stood, kicking up sand, and would have to crane his neck to look up at her.

Incidentally, she didn’t know she could fly until now. “Huh,” she muttered, floating high above their heads. “I hope I can get down from here…”

While she struggled to lower herself, two more members were added to the gaggle of weirdos that had gathered at the Canyon: a very angry woman with no Force signature and a big armored dude who was yelling something incomprehensible at Ingrid. This had the benefit of distracting several of the mutants—the mad lady even managed to kill one of them. But then things managed to get worse instead of better. A giant “god” suddenly appeared, brandishing a hammer, and charged at the group.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Inanna groaned. She did detect a change in the air as the block on portals was lifted, but she didn’t know what it was, lacking the clairvoyance to understand.

Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Ingrid L'lerim | Zachariel Steelblood | Westenra Mina​

 

[Westenra Mina]

Melissa cut and cut and cut savagely through attacker after attacker, anger at having been killed in the first place boiling over. These cackling abominations and their mutations sickened her but it was the evil she saw that sickened her more.

Her Saber attacks slashed around their defenses, evading their attacks in a state of undiluted fury. She would rip and tear. She would rip and tear this whole fething dimension if she had to, but one way or another she was going to find the Queen Mother and hack her to pieces.

Each blocked attacked only increased the Biot's fury, her determination to destroy as she became a frenzied red and gold blur, viciously slashing and stabbing from all sides at her attackers. Her prey.

Zachariel Steelblood came out of nowhere, but Melissa was such a rage filled frenzy as she brought down her second opponent that she hardly paid him any mind. She wanted these evil things to suffer.

The giant one, who felt familiar to her, stepped out. She grimaced. Maybe she HAD lucked out more than others.

Melissa offhandedly killed another of the fearsome warriors.

"Uh, if anyone has an exit strategy...now would be an excellent time to produce it!!" Melissa exclaimed to Inanna Harth , Vytal Noctura , and Ingrid L'lerim .

She almost didn't hear the swing from behind, but when she did, she leapt upward higher than a Tobey Maguire that just found out Willem Dafoe was in his home, landing behind her attacker, and buzzsawing him to pieces with precise, expert spins of the blade...

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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

Location: Behelian Canyon, Netherworld
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Inanna Harth | Vytal Noctura | Xzeench | Zachariel Steelblood | Westenra Mina

[ Maybe I should just end it all... ] ​

Ingrid listened in half-ear to the conversation between Nightmother and Inanna because her attention was already on the fight. Zachariel behaved rather strangely, sensing both personalities with her telepathic ability. It was quite weird, for the man, this may have been the past, and at times Netherworld could behave very strangely. Especially considering the passage of time. At their last meeting, the man had just called her Ingrid, leaving the Lady out of the address. He was more sober now, not embraced by total madness and chaos.

The man did not attack her, but rather did so with the marines. So for now, she hasn't attacked him either, they may have been enemies, but she respected the man so much that she did not attack him in the back. Especially since they are apparently on one side for the time being. Heading for one of the armoured men, when he got close, the woman danced infinitely calmly out of the way of the attack, with an elegant gesture and hasn't taken out any weapons yet.

The fight continued, and then another enemy appeared, and by this time the Force was returning. Now she faced her opponent who had attacked her, then reached out to the Force and at once began to swallow the marine’s life force and all his negative emotions, stealing from him. Both come great for more serious spells; as for the life forces and negative energies, she swallowed everything and everyone besides her own allies.

~ I’m trying to exclude these from here, in the meantime you try to open a portal to the Realspace! ~ send a telepathic message to the Nightmother.

In doing so, she tried to seize the opportunity that they have Force in this place again; Ingrid began to cast spells; with exactly the hand gestures and words she learned from Adrian.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

In his charge, Zachariel noted how Westenra didn't notice him. He saw that Ingrid held herself back from attacking his back, though he didn't know why. And lastly, he saw the other two individuals moving to flee. Zachariel took all this in within the span of a few heartbeats, and then his focus was solely on his opponent, a massive marine mutated beyond belief.

Slashing at him, Zachariel did little damage, and barely avoided the first bearhug of the marine. Striking once more, Zachariel's blade arm was grabbed by the marine, who proceeded to draw him in. Grunting as he was grabbed forcefully, and then pulled into a crushing hug, Zachariel struggled. It was futile as the marine squeezed, but Zachariel still struggled.

And then hell screamed as the Primaris arrived. His arrival drew the attention of Zachariel and the massive marine. They both knew the man, though for different reasons. To Zachariel, it was the same as seeing a ghost. The Primaris had died to the Queen Mother, he should be dead. Snarling at the sight and the fact that he had lost his mind, Zachariel suddenly headbutted the marine holding him. It made him stagger, and Zachariel promptly smashed a fist into his face. The marine dropped him then, hands instinctively going to his face. Stumbling back, Zachariel stabbed his sword towards the mans stomach.

Straightening, Zachariel put more distance between himself and the marine. He didn't know if he was dead or not, but that wasn't important. Part of him screamed at him to ensure the marine was completely dead, but the other part screamed to kill the Primaris. He also happened to be the more dangerous target. Drawing his heavy pistol, Zachariel began firing at the Primaris. It wouldn't do much damage, but it should hopefully distract the behemoth. Then again, escape was a mere prospect in his eyes now.
"FOCUS THE PRIMARIS! He needs to die, or at least be pushed back, for us to live!" A sanity shift and a laugh came out of Zachariel. "Let me add your skull to my collection Primaris. I'll be sure to take it slowly!"

Inanna Harth | Ingrid L'lerim | Xzeench | Westenra Mina | Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions | Rings X X X X
​

Vytal's eyes narrowed at those charging her and Inanna Harth . She might not be the greatest duelist in the galaxy -- she wasn't even close to being skilled enough for some grand tournament -- but these Spirits obviously had no wherewithal as to whom they were fighting. Frightening as they may be, and undead as though they certainly were, the Pale Witch was ready to give them a lesson one at a time since they were so consumed with that desire.

"Darkness covers the eyes and clouds the soul," she chanted as the brute ( Xzeench ) bore down on her position and Inanna took flight. A portion of the very plane of the Nether they stood on was carved out and suddenly pivoted ninety-degrees. Vytal was pivoted out of the way of the weapon as he came crashing down in a haze of bloodlust. "Corrupts the body as it swallows the heart." A square was drawn in the ground by her hand. Suddenly the 'earth' beneath them vanished and returned in a flash. Armor that thick and a soul that fixated on its target, the Witch hoped they would sink at least part way and become buried in place having not strayed far in a moment.

Before she thought of piercing the head of the warrior with her saber, however, Another made their presence known. A Lesser Great Spirit. Not the worst the Nightmother had dealt with by far, but she was often far more acquainted with the mythology behind such threats before engaging them.

Westenra Mina and Ingrid L'lerim soon advocated for a swift departure while they continued having their way with the villains. Vytal wouldn't have minded a little more time with them, especially subduing the Greater among them to excise knowledge of their purported ruler. Then again, it would be impolite to put the rest at risk given their desire to depart. Perhaps another time then.

The lightsaber fwipped away in order for the Nightmother to wield both hands. Thrust out before her, she began to weave the currents of magik energy all around them. They were in a world made of nothing but such mystical power. A world of pure thought, which made it quite dangerous when confronting beings that had existed here for far, far longer.

"Waves crash, rocks break. sharks swim, but the gulls escape." Left hand flat and vertical before her, her right a fist slammed into position half an inch from her left palm. Reality shattered and the shards of those allied with the Nightmother were swiftly drawn together. Once they were within range she break the spell and draw upon the Nether to relocate them to the sanctuary of the Bramble Wood. A region they could easily pivot to The Rest or the Gate back to Ryloth. Somewhere their new bloodthirsty friends wouldn't have quite the same advantage.

The Bramble Wood was filled with towering trees replete with endless branches and massive thorn-like protrusions adorning each one. Widen enough to stand on easily, the branches stretched out between the trunks forming a traversal if obstacle laden 'ground' one could walk.

"I haven't had the pleasure of that Great Spirit before," Vytal admitted without shame. The Nether was an expansive region of...existence. Only the dead had enough time to meet them all, and most of the dead wouldn't dare try. Some of the Ancient Ones were exceptionally...hazardous even for a spirit. "Have you?" Her green eyes fell on her companions. Perhaps they'd volunteer information such as the likelihood of being pursued elsewhere in the Nether. There was a Fortress they could make haste to if they were forced to tarry a while longer. "We should at least be free of the greater spirit before opening a portal back to...Realspace." Best not to let something that powerful close to the World of the Living.

Tag: Inanna Harth | Xzeench | @Zachariel @Steelblood | Westenra Mina | Ingrid L'lerim​