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Heir to the Throne

We will march through the fire,
We will run through fire,
As the flames get higher,
In a strange, young world,

Ryloth Sector

Late hour

Doashim was roaring towards the skies, summoning his children, his call loudest to [member="Muad Dib"], his shaman. Jart and Lylek were doing the same but their calls were softer than the demon’s. Grass and rock met stone blocks above which the Nightmother kept herself levitated as she meditated, centering her mind. Katrine could hear them. They were whispering, calling. She could see them. They were outstretching their hands to her and inviting her. She had made the attempt to open the hatch but each time she had called for the Force to help her, Doashim roared at her. She would not be the one to do it. She was not the one who would enter the space.

Beneath them lay the final resting place of the Nightmothers before her. With each death, a new set of bones was stored, new markings were added to honor the deceased and enable them the freedom to leave their mortal remains in order to assist the next Nightmother. Katrine was not dead, she was very much alive. If there wasn’t an actual purpose to her being here, the spirits wouldn’t have permitted her to be where she was. This was no place for the living. Which was why the spirits had chosen it, both to protect and to hide.

She had seen the path already. From the entrance, there was a fall. From them on the long halls led on, walls to walls covered with the remains of the deceased Nightmothers. Their presences were strongest from within, their voices called out to her even where she was now, preparing. From the halls, multiple rooms with walls covered with more remains and other artifacts relevant to the Mandragora. Kept, guarded and protected by illusions.

Within the catacombs, the Force had a funny way of working. Spells worked whereas powers didn’t. Illusions took for of the spirits, seemingly real. For the foreigners, they were deadly traps. For the Mandragora, they were challenges to ensure their readiness to embark on the next step.

In the center of it, lay a chamber. There was but a single stone plate, bones spread over it. These were the remains of a once powerful Doashim shaman who had betrayed the spirits alongside the once Jart shaman. She had been banished, managing to escape and arrived to Orcus, leaving the Jart spellbook to become the sacred text of the Orcani. He had been forced to battle Doashim himself, possessing the demon animal. The shaman had nearly one before the tables had turned and the beast ripped his mortal skin to shreds, trapping his soul in the very chamber. His punishment had been simple - wait for the next Shaman, wait to earn the right to be free. And to be free, he would have to fight against the living Shaman. Win or lose, he needed to remember what it meant to be a Mandragora, to fight for his freedom and protect the spellbook that had been entrusted to him in the first place.

Katrine had her eyes closed, visions showing her what was below. Seeing through it all the way it did keep the illusion at bay until she had peeked into the chamber, barely seeing through before the angry spirit had appeared before her eyes, roaring with the sound of the demon he once belonged to, eyes glowing in anger. ”Get out! The roar started her enough for her eyes to open. Eli Talus, the ancient Shaman. Katrine assumed he had no clue who she was or what ties they held. He was nothing more than an angry spirit anymore, burdened and waiting. Not for her though.

Behind her, Doashim, Jart, and Lylek continued to call their chosen and their shamans. Tonight, another spellbook would return to the order.

Objective 1 - Face the Illusions
Mirages of Doashim, Jart and Lylek will obstruct our path on the way to the main chamber. They’ll create additional illusions like breaths of fire and miniature lylek attacks, firing claw-like projectiles. Remember, they’re immune to Force powers as are their illusions so only spells will help or simply accepting what you are.
Objective 2 - Right Beyond the Doors
The main hall leads to the chamber housing the book but it also has additional doors on the side, leading to other rooms or hallways. While this is optional, anyone choosing to go looking could face some other ancient Nightmother spirit who may try to test your skills or may want to impart some vision. Some other artifacts are hiding along the way. One of those chambers includes a source of ichor. This objective is optional.
Objective 3 - Boss Fight
Passing through the hall and entering the main chamber will awaken the ancient spirit of Eli Talus, the Doashim Shaman punished with eternal guarding of the spellbook he had attempted to steal so long ago. He’s powerful and may attempt to attack others but his liberty comes from facing the living Doashim Shaman so he’s most likely to face Muad Dib before anyone else.

[member="Asher Mossa"], [member="Fawn Alzi"], [member="Firenne Van-Derveld"] [member="Kayla Wylen"], [member="Paige Blossom"], [member=Umai] [member="Zephyr Carrick"] [member=Akabane], @Anastasia Vi’dreya , [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Damien Van-Derveld"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Kalee Bladesworn"], [member=Larentia] [member="Maple Harte"], [member="Muad Dib"] [member=Zhai'ellev] [member="Arabella Darkhold"], [member="Chikako Liona"], [member="Derek Dib"], [member="Katiara Initrios"], [member="La’Ca Cavataio"] [member="Minerva Vessia"] [member=Rapax], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Veronika Fleischer"], [member="William the Bloody"]

Daxton Bane

Daxton approached with lithe agility of jungle cat on the prowl, his armor gleamed in highly polished golden sheen, while a crimson cloak decked his shoulders. He came in answer to the call, to stand with his brothers and sisters in their quest to reclaim what was by rights theirs to begin with.

Gauntleted fingers flexed in anticipation for what was coming. He had heard rumors that the place was protected by spirits, dread specters of the past, he hoped the rumors were true so as to give him a chance to test some of the spells in his arsenal. Focusing on his core, he summoned the Force to grant him added strength and endurance for the trials ahead.

La'Ca Cavataio

Little Tea Pot
Location:Ryloth, some room
Nearby: N/A
Outfit: Shirt and shorts
Weapons: Fun and Giggles
Objective: Up in the air right now
La’Ca was studying the Mandragora from the shaman of the Jart. However, she was here to gather info for her deity too. She knew her propose in this life. It was not difficult to follow a silly force user that called him a shaman when she was a Dathomirian witch in two lifetimes now. So being trouble for the man, she was not shown in the right order how the witch order ran like. As the spirits made their desires and needs to be known, La’Ca had no mark of theirs to clue her in.

It was her shards. Pieces of her soul that she had become more focus on since running into her late wife, Alyisa. The lack of knowledge and feelings of their life together had her looking back in her life. The glimpses into her life showed how crazy it was. An event, a moment showed all the objects speaking to her at once. Instead of back then and focus on one to talk to, she focused on the voices that were not heard but still spoke.

Everything being told from past, present and future in her entire first life showed that even now was spoken about. La’Ca back then did not understand that information. Now it was clear. In the memory, books were talking about Doashim, Jart, and Lylek being untrustworthy for a Dathomirian that one blood and soul belonged to the mad witch of Dathomir.

Then other books spoke about the task Dharma would start this night. It made her frown. A desire to dig into her past was more important, but the memory kept saying to do it. La’Ca got up and push the shard away, but like the others, they still orbited her.

La’Ca left the room and walked out to the elements. She could grab a shard to dig and see what she should next. However, that never worked the first time. Looking for another to question, she had that one her list of things to do.


Anya Malvern

Scarlet flame
She was asleep, enjoying her rest as she tossed and turned
"Wake up"
She turned again groaning
she shot up, her entire body shaking as she looked around. She hopped out of bed and looked around her sword one was who told her to wake up? She listened again and sheathed her weapon. Seems she was being summoned by the doashim quite loudly at that. She sighed and started getting fully dressed and everything on her before she went out and got on a speeder following where she could feel him

She arrived, didnt take long as she hopped off the speeder and stood before the three and would wait. Working out the creaks in her body having being awoken so suddenly...why the kark was she woken up? Had to be VERY important for her to be snapped out of deep sleep.

mmmm...anyone know why we are here?
Location:Ryloth, Wilderness
Nearby: N/A
Outfit: Combat Outfit
Weapons: Echani Vibro Sword
Objective: Study?

Things had been progressing well, soon in time she would be crowned over the planet of Tythe, she just had to wait a little longer for all the legal stuff to go through, for her the CIS and all to recognize her coming of age and then have all the papers signed. It was slow, almost tedious, but it was in the end worth it in Chikako's mind. She may not be able to hold much power on Echan anymore after what befell of her family but starting off anew an returning one day with power and influence at her back was just as good.

In the mean time the young noble would continue her self study of the force and magic, leaning the ins and outs of the mysterious art form that carried so much power. One skill that came to mind was something called Dark Shear, apparently a dark force power that revolved around making a sharp object fabricated from the dark side and then flung at an opponent. It was an interesting skill, but Chikako was not nrealy anywhere dark enough to perform such a feat, but that did not mean it was not impossible with other methods.

"If one cam form such a spear or arrow with the dark side, is it possible to do the same with a more neutral approach? and if so how many can I make? One large one? several smaller ones"? It was worth a try though she was a little disappointing in the lack of a proper target, so rocks and dirt walls would have to do. Taking a small step back the young Echani focused on her arm, the same focus she used when casting spells but visualizing her force power in a physical state, needle, small spikes, that sort of thing. Slowly a purple and pink shimmer coming from her pale hand, bit by bit elongating into a sort of icicle like form.
The Golden Eye
Wearing: Sasori Armor (black color) (

Absorbelt (

Using: Staff. (

Maple woke up screaming, scrambling out of her bed in panic. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding, her brow would not cease its sweat, and her lithe, tanned figure shook with fear. She had appeared finally again in her sleep last night. The emaciated beast had slinked in again, cooing at and torturing her with her sins in equal measure. Maple had had no way to run, no way to hide, and Doashim had only barely managed to find her and pull her out before that creature could make it any worse. But the Spirit was good for something...and oh great, now she could feel the roar of his call. Doashim was a useful thing, but he sure could be pushy sometimes. Maple, still out of whack from the nightmares, knew she really couldn't take a breather and relax, even though she wanted to. Doashim had called to her. Double time, even though most of her skeleton had been made of Mynocks for about fifteen seconds after she woke up.

Maple sat up in her bed on the Silent Erika, settled in the Night Lands. She'd landed on a small steppe of rock, away from the rancors and other creatures that roamed the desert to avoid disturbing them. She soon dragged herself out of bed, her long brown hair a mess, and headed to the shower. The hot water stung her, but she needed it. Needed that hot sting of water to not focus on the Mind-Binder.

A most malignant creature, if you don't mind the observation. rumbled the spirit from within.

"You saw it. Is it real?" Maple asked, the water sliding down her as she spoke to open air. She wanted someone, anyone, to hold her sometimes. But the pleasures of another's flesh could only distract so long from her problem. They could not eliminate it.

It 'feels' real enough, certainly. And if it was just a delusion, it wouldn't have been able to harm Darth Maranon the way it did. 'You' certainly could not have mustered such strength.

Maple crouched in the shower, shivering.

"Doashy..." she trailed. "I'm scared."

Do you have a plan for actually killing it?


I mean aside from convincing Katrine to let you barrow her flagship to kill your witch from orbit.

"Well, Doashy, the other plan is to just fill her with enough holes she won't get up. Preferably from very far away. And then convincing Katrine to bombard the remains from orbit..." Maple answered, heart slowing. "Its the only way to be sure..."

You have frozen when faced with the purple-eyed woman who might be her.

"I...I choked."


Maple strained the water from her hair. The scars on her body were felt as the water washed over them.

"You saw what she does."

Maranon had a similar method. It did not stop you from challenging her. Nor does your aversion to the darkness stop you, in effect, from working with people allied to others that you've spent years killing to no effect. No, Uri. I don't think you are truly scared of the Mind-Binder. What she puts you through in your dreams is horrible, yes. Reprehensible. But she is not the source of your fears.

Maple tried to humor the rumbling, ancient voice of the spirit.

"What am I scared of then?" She asked.

I'm so glad you asked...but I have a task for you.

"I can hear the roar, trust me."

The Spirit laughed a deep, booming laugh at her irreverence, even as it simultaneously roared to come to where it was calling her to.

There is wisdom I provide. A place where that which is not real attacks you as much as that which 'might' be real does in your dreams...a wise man who chose the path of the craven angered me, and I have sent my Shaman to dispatch him and release him from my punishment.

"What'd he do?" Maple asked, shutting off the water, reaching for the towel.

He stole from me.


You will journey to the resting place of the ancient Nightmothers. It will test your worthiness to grow among the Mandragora.

"Are we talking another Katanos Seven?"

Uri, you should know well by this point that anything that begins with the mention of a tomb plus Force Adepts will always have danger involved.

Maple sighed, began drying off. The roar increased within. Loud. No more sleep.

Maple began getting ready. She grabbed her staff, giving it a cursory spin. The Mandragora needed balance restored. And Doashim promised her the wisdom of an answer to her fear inside its walls. Doashim hadn't steered her wrong so far. Even if she did get the feeling the crafty old spirit knew more than it let on at times, and simply refrained from giving a straight answer for the sake of making her go and get it herself. Skip. Doashim was a concert pianist! And he was playing for an army of [member="Muad Dib"] clones! Maple was a rat catcher in that delusion though, and it lasted several years longer than it should have. But the clones never stopped partying! Skip.

That is NOT what is happening, Little Shadow. Doashim rumbled. If it had a nose, Maple was certain Doashim would have been pinching the bridge of it. But it always showed patience with her, and as long as it did, Maple would continue to respect its council.

Later on...

Maple, still rattled, had crossed the desert with her staff and light armor. She was careful not to draw the attention of the other animals as she finally reached the meeting area where [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Daxton Bane"] (The scary looking one who had shown in the initiation ceremony, and somehow had managed to become even scarier looking since she had last seen him) [member="Anya Malvern"], @La'Ca Cavataio (One she had seen only in passing at the ceremony, the other new to her), and [member="Chikako Liona"], who was right at the moment making some sort of magical spike that glowed with a really pretty light.

"Wow, that is the color I'm getting my next shade of lipstick in." Maple remarked. "Come to think of it, perfect color for a dress too..."

She could see the entrance, felt the ancient bones stirring at all of them. No Muad Dib yet. The thought of him with an army of his copies was terrifying to contemplate. She spotted Katrine and waved enthusiastically.

"So my fellow 'Gora, what is up? When do we go into the creepy place?" she asked, trying to be upbeat, not drag the others down with her depression at having been attacked by the Mind-Binder again.

Asher Mossa


Wearing: This
Weapons: Lightsaber


A voice whispered in his sleep. ”Asher.... It was unmistakeable. The spirit of Lylek had been a regular intruder in Asher Mossa’s life, and he did not know why. It did not seem the other men or women of the Mandragora had this much contact with the spirits, and if they did no one seemed to talk about it. A chill ran down his spine as the voice confined to stir him from his sleep, and in little time at all Asher was awake.

Death. He could feel it on the air, and pull.

Throwing on a shirt, Asher moved from his private tent which he kept away from the ship which was the typical home of the Mandragora. Asher preferred the fur and canvas, the solitude that came with it allowed him to be as distant from the others as he wished. A mystery is what he chose to be, and only Lylek and [member="Umai"] truly knew what rolled through his mind. The spirit had ensured they would share thoughts, emotions, and feelings, through the bond it had created.

Moving through the planet surface, Asher followed the pull. A group seemed to be gathering around the center of what was a place of death. The feeling only grew stronger. Death truly was their calling tonight, but why? The member of the Lylek pact scratched at his beard as he pondered the reasons they had met together. The spirits were calling them to something, and all he could do was wait for the nightmother to speak.

She would speak, and he would listen.

[member="Anya Malvern"] asked why they had been gathered. There was impatience with that one, but Asher remained quiet. His presence was that of the brooding kind. It was always in the shadow, observing, drawing conclusions whether helpful or not. Asher saw more than anyone knew, even from his self-inflicted seclusion.

”Patience...” Asher spoke after [member="Maple Harte"] spoke. She was another who seemed eager to enter. ”The spirits will reveal what we need to know and when we need to know it. Until then we wait for the nightmother to tell us what is going on...”

[member="Chikako Liona"] @La'Ca Cavataio [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

Damien Van-Derveld

Wearing: This

The night was cold, but his fur was warm. Running through the forest as free as he could possibly be was the one thing Damien loved more than anything else. What he could not do without permission on Dathomir he was able to do on Ryloth any time he wanted. His night was interrupted though as Doashim called to him.

He stopped. The voice was clear. It was a summons.

Damien ran to where he had left his clothes, and when he had changed he dressed. The human would meet with the others. His wolf would wait in the wings should he be needed. The Lupine loved the advantage he had. One made more tactical sense than the other, and for now, Damien had no reason to think he had less of an advantage in his human form.

His arrival was much later than the others. He caught [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] and gave a nod in her direction. His cousin, while much younger, and not as direct as he had hoped, was the one Lupine he was most close to. His parents and sister didn't count as he had not seen them in ages. He would find them, but not today. Today he waited to find out what they were here for, and for the arrival of their Shaman. There was always a reason for the spirits to call them together.

[member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Anya Malvern"] @La'Ca Cavataio [member="Daxton Bane"]

Daxton Bane

Patience. Not actually one of the best traits to look for with a Sith Lord, especially not one as volatile as Daxton Bane. It was taking too long, but some things could not be rushed. While he could use spells to rile the spirits, that could have unexpected effects later on. So instead, he continued to cast more spells which would buff himself, specially his ability to see patterns in the Force. He would need this to predict how the spirits would react, so he could anticipate and counteract their attacks.
Warrior of Ulf
She was born of the spirits, she was born of Lupine blood. She was born between the realms. Larentia was born to rule, born to fight. She was a warrior and a monster. It was why when the child had touched upon the grimoire of the spirits, the choice had been obvious. Doashim had claimed her. There was no hesitation, no doubt in their minds eye. She belonged to Doahsim as much as she belonged to Figaro Favoura VII. There was a mission here, a salvation. It was a sacrifice Larentia had committed for her people, for her family. She was willing to die in the past to save their future. She was not the sole heir of her bloodline, another could step into her place if required but she was the first born, the chosen one among them to lead their people. Her gender mattered not, not since the last ascension. They were Lupine, it no longer matter if they were male or female.

Doashim had called. Larentia hadn't been far. The Nightmother had chosen her as her protector. No Lupine had ever adorned the Oathbound armor and yet she willingly did. For this family. And it was in her armor that Larentia had walked among the other chosen of the Doashim. Her amulet protected her from others seeing the truth about her when they weren't ready to know.

When she arrived, however, she noticed one of them was not present. She had heard of him. Larentia looked to all of them waiting. Was it him they waited for? She knew this story well enough to know how it went. So much so that she stared at Doashim, whose red eyes stared back at him. Larentia could always see the demon. And looking at him, she approached the shaft which led them. He didn't growl at her, didn't stop her as she stood on top of it. "We are ready," the Lupine told the spirit, who nodded.

Beneath her, the shaft began to crack and weaken. Beneath that, the dead awoke and watched. And then she fell, the shaft breaking. Larentia allowed herself to fall, crouching down as she landed against the ground. In the distance, the ancient shaman growled as he felt the first of them to come. It was the Doashim that could unlock the ancient burial ground. No one but Doashim. Larentia was Doashim and the ancient burial ground of the Nightmothers had been unlocked. Reaching for her sword, she stepped forward, expecting challenges. They would come because the dead needed to determine if the Mandragora was ready to return the spellbook. The first had been stolen but this one was still very much under their protection.

Larentia drew her sword as thousand tiny voices screamed before projectiles were fired at her. Weapon drawn, she met the projectiles with it, defending herself. Her advantage here was knowledge. While she didn't know every single challenge which awaited them, she knew they would come. And come they did, her weapon blocking them from harming her.


[member="Daxton Bane"] [member=La'Ca Cavataio] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Fawn Alzi"] [member="Firenne Van-Derveld"] [member="Kayla Wylen"] [member="Paige Blossom"] [member="Umai"] [member="Zephyr Carrick"] [member="Akabane"] [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Kalee Bladesworn"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Zhai'ellev"] [member="Arabella Darkhold"] [member="Katiara Initrios"] [member="Minerva Vessia"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Kasca Fen"]​

Daxton Bane

Leaping forward, Daxton effortless moved through the air and landed close to @Larentia. Three blades hissed to life with practiced ease long sinced honed on the field of battle, ready to protect her flanks and open the way for the others to arrive. Holographic displays projected information directlu front of his eyes, categorizing them by distance and threat values, as his system scanned and mapped out the terrain. Pity no one could see though his reflective face plate to see the lips curl in a smile, a very dangerous kind of smile.

Muad Dib

Paragon of Virtue
"And how is that my problem mate?"

The growling form of the Doashim revealed his frustration at his Shaman. The two had been going back and forth for the last few hours with the Patron roaring and Muad laughing. Doashim was growing impatient. Muad shrugged and tilted the bottle of liquor back again as he sat upon the sands while leaning against the bike.

You're duty as my chosen. You will rise, you will fight, you will win. And then our sacred text will be returned to where it belongs

"But why should I do it?"


The raging outburst was loud, echoing across the wastelands. Traycn, the tuk'ata, raised his head and growled from where he lay next to his master. Muad reached out and gently strokes the hound's head, being careful to avoid the sharp spines. Yawning he shrugged before taking another swig. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he looked upon the apparition of the Patron.

"Well it sounds like you have a problem then don't you."

The Madman grinned as Doashim threw his head back and roared with real anger before disappearing. Chuckling he went to take another drink and felt his hit spin slightly.


Then he was yanked from Ryloth and into the other realm. Landing on his hands and knees he rose slowly with a frown, his hands dusting the brown trousers off. Before him stood the Patron, but no longer a vision but made flesh. Doashim was seething. Arching an eyebrow Muad merely smirked.

"Lonely? Wanna kiss?"

He pursued his lips. Doashim roared and leapt, slamming into the man with the two tangling and rolling down the dune. Claws ripped at his chest and Muad roared out with pain and rage, lashing his head forward into the Patron's snout. As the crimson flowed from his chest, Muad spun using his own blood as lubrication to spin out of the Patron's grasp and onto his back. Rearing back he drove his forearm into the rear of Doashim's head, once, twice, on the third attempt the Patron used his tail and wrapped it around Muad's throat tossing him away.

"Oh you wanted this, you got it mate."

As the two rose to their feet, Muad felt pain as if his bones were being ripped from his body. Falling flat in panting anguish he could do nothing but watch as Doashim approached.

You so readily and eagerly fight me. Then resist the battle that's before you

Placing one hand before him and then the other, Muad pushed his torso up from the ground drawing his legs up beneath him. Groaning against the pain wracking his body he stood defiantly before the Patron. Spitting a gob of blood from his busted lip, Muad glared at the demon before him.

"You can't break me. I've been in hell dimensions, I've faced gods, I've been tortured for a century straight, I've fought losing battles and bloody wars. And I am still here. You may have chose me, but I do not owe you my undying obedience. I will not be told what to do. You can ask me... I might say yes ..."

Doashim roared and raged. His claws raked the ground and his tail flicked through the air. Yet in the end the Patron knew the truth. The reason he chose the man before him was the same reason he wanted to rip the man's throat out. He was stubborn, arrogant, resisted authority, and would never quit. He was a warrior who would die for the good of those he cared for, his pack. And these were the attributes that the Patron desired in his Shaman. But maybe with a little more humility. As Muad waited for either a question or to resume the fight, the Patron gave a snarling sigh.

Will you heed my call? Will you do my will? Will you fight for your pack?



Laughing Muad held up his hand, nearly doubling over from his mirth. Breathing heavily he straightened and spoke, an amused lilt still in his voice.

"I'm just messing with you mate. Yes I'll fight this Shaman of yours. Just point the way and I'll ... Arg!"

Muad fell to his back upon the sand next to the bike and startling the sith hound. Rubbing his head with a grin he saw his wounds were gone. Laughing again he tossed his leg over the bike and started it. Whistling at Traycn they took off head to this place that Doashim want him to go.

They crossed into the nightlands and found the others easily enough. That much power congregated together was like a beacon to one in the force. Easing the bike to a stop he climbed from it and motioned for Traycn to set up a perimeter.

Approaching he nodded to [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] as his eyes flickered over the Nightmother. But this wasn't to be her fight, that fell to him. Sighing with a whimsical smile he moved to the opening and dropped in, his legs flexing at the impact which absorbed his weight.

"Come out come out wherever you are. Daddy's home."

Damien Van-Derveld

Damien turned just in time to see [member="Muad Dib"] walk into the area where they had all he gathered. He let out a sigh and shook his head as the man seemed to take nothing seriously. It made Damien question the sanity and wisdom of Doashim. If he would pick a man like Muad to lead them, or whatever it was he was supposed to be, then why should Damien trust the spirit.

He nodded at Muad and looked to his cousin [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"].

“Look who finally decided to arrive.”

It was time to get the show on the road.
Heir to the Throne
The Nightmother waited as the chosen came, summoned. Among them was her protector as well, waiting. It was the Shaman of Doashim than the demon had the most trouble with. She waited, well aware of the argument within two realms. This was something Doashim needed to solve yet the blonde couldn't help herself and smirk as the man provided a challenge still. Such was expected from someone bounded to the demon himself.

As the two battled, her protector spoke to the demon and made the first step. Followed by Daxton. Beyond the physical realm, the grounds began to shake. The ancient Shaman roared from his prison, aware of the arrival. The Nightmother, however, would not be joining them. She was not Doashim, she was Jart. This was not her battle.

[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] spoke to her, bringing out of her daze for a split second, sapphire gaze finding him as she smirked. "Indeed," the voice of Jart echoed within her voice as she responded.

I know this is an old thread. If you wanna opt out, let me know on Discord but for storyline purposes, need to get it done.
[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Maple Harte"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="La'Ca Cavataio"]
Warrior of Ulf
A warrior. A fighter. It was the woman Moeder raised, the future the demon forged. In the fire, of fire. She was strength and power. She was Doashim. Ichor roamed through her blood yet it was the demon that spoke to her. As her spun, deflecting the illusions, Larentia roared, a feminine sound of the demon's own voice, fueled by his anger. Behind her, another fell upon the ground. Daxton, but a whisper came through before she had proceeded forward. She had passed through the first illusion. A loud roar followed with the next arrival. The shaman of times past, a confidant joking voice followed.

Larentia didn't wait. He was a shaman of times past. She answered to Doashim herself, charging forward. Ahead, the flutter of wings reached her ears, the sounds of the birds almost deafening. As if hundreds of them were charging forward. Her body surrendered to the Force, jumping high as she used it, abused it, using it to boost her high above the threat ahead. The sound still hurt her ears, a Lupine's sensitivity to high pitch sounds, a fact the spirits always knew, no matter what time she was in.

Her face winced at the pain, at the otherwise crippling sound, containing focus enough to hold out her jump before she had landed on her feet, inhaling a deep breath to center herself, for the remainder of the pain from her ears to fade away. As she stood there, thinking back on both the challenges given by Lylek and Jart, she knew what lay ahead, even before the doors came into view, a realization bringing it to life. Behind her, the birds still screeched, lylek still crawled, wishing to continue. "Enough!" The demon's child roared.

And as the birds grew quiet and the spiders still, a scream erupted from behind the doors. Eli Talus heard the roar. Larentia tightened her grip on the sword. Either the shaman would fight the imprisoned ancient one or she would. Either way, tonight, the spellbook would be claimed. And she would read once more, as she had hundreds of time in her life. Tonight.

Daxton Bane

Daxton’s lips curled in an amused smirk, this was something his inner beast could easily understand, the call for battle, the desire to sink teeth into flesh, to taste hot warm blood and swallow it fresh, all familiar ground and yet he was more than just a beast on the prowl. He was Daxton Bane, apex predator even among his kind, but there was a part of him curious to see what the pther could bring to table. So patiently he waited for it too make the first move.

Damien Van-Derveld

"And he's leaving again..."

Damien chuckled a bit as he followed the shaman down the dark hole. Why everyone dropped into the darkness to get what the needed was beyond him, but the was the way of things. His green lightsaber was ignited as they fell into a nest of spiders. Cutting and hacking away at the beasts which came at him was exhilarating. It was not a hunt, but it was still a release of energy that he needed. HIs head turned when a voice commanded the spiders to stop and they did.

Another Lupine. He could smell her. There was something about her... something familiar in her scent but not. Damien was confused.

"Right so that just happened... I'm Damien."

@Larentia @Katrine Van-Derveld [member="Daxton Bane"]

Daxton Bane

“Well met Damien. I am called Daxton Bane. As to what just happened I believe we are about to find out what and I must say I am excited to see what is coming next.” The Sith’s voice was calm and measured as he were discussing an simple experiment or possible point of philosophy with [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] but to anyone viewing him through the force they would see thick black tentacles of dark energy emerging from the Sith’s back and pulsin as if with a life of their own, waiting to wrap themselves around something a squeeze the life out of it.
Heir to the Throne
She is ready, Doashim roared in her direction, making the blonde look to the side, only to find the demon vanish before her very eyes. He had gone to them - to the shaman and to her protector. This was their battle. The book of Doashim shall be claimed, Lylek's sharp nails tapped against her skin as it spoke up. Katrine nodded. They had laid claim to the Jart spellbook, now it was the time for Doashim's. The last of them would come soon. The first of them had been on Orcus, stolen long ago. The second one had been buried deep with her ancestor. Part of her wondered whether the Shaman or Lupine was the right choices to battle Eli. He was the blood of her blood, and even though she was Lupine, she was Hawk as well. His blood ran through her veins. He was Ceta's father. Perhaps this was a matter of family, of blood.

Yet, the spirits trusted in their warriors. She is our child, she is a demon in the body of a monster, Jart promised her quietly. The battle would be won, the book would be claimed, she understood as she continued sitting there. She was Jart once, she was their Nightmother. Katrine needed to trust in them, in each and every one of them. They could fight this fight without her. Not every battle was meant to be fought by the Nightmother.

We will overcome, from the depths of the cave, Katrine heard the roar, the mixture of voice, both demonic and humanoid, the words ending with the roar of a wolf. That was Larentia. She neared her destination, fueled by the demon. The obstacles on her path had been overcome.

[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Asher Mossa"]