Public &nbsp; Shadow Over Jakku

Lossa Darcuhl

Equipment

Violet-Colored Electrical Whip: A saber-like whip that crackles with violet electrical energy, used with precision and speed in combat.
Black and Blue Lightsaber Whip: A second lightsaber-styled whip, shimmering with a menacing black and blue hue, capable of cutting through flesh and severing limbs.
Twin Blades: Slender and lethal, these are part of his concealed arsenal.
Compact Blaster Pistol: Discreetly nestled at his side for quick access.
Concealed Tools Pouch: A small pouch hidden in plain sight, containing various tools.
Throwing Knives: Discreetly secured within a dark leather-bound bandolier.
Wrist-Mounted Derringer-Style Mechanism: Integrated seamlessly with his ensemble for unexpected attacks.
Hard Sound Hand Gun: Emits concentrated blasts of sound capable of disorienting or incapacitating opponents, effective against Jedi who rely on concentration for their Force abilities.
Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) Grenades: Can disable electronic devices and potentially disrupt a Jedi's use of lightsabers or other electronic-based equipment.
Net Launchers with Durasteel Filaments: Entangle and immobilize.
Stun Baton: Deliver high-voltage shocks for incapacitation in close combat.
Poison Dart Shooters: Use toxins to weaken or incapacitate.

Lossa Darcuhl said:
Desolation left in its wake as if an errant child had been left unattended.

In the midst of the abrupt chaos, Aziraphale moved like a specter of doom, his actions painting him as nothing less than an errant child toying mercilessly with his playthings. His victims, mere toys in his icey blue eyes, were subjected to torment until they ceased to amuse him. Then, with cold indifference, he would break them, discarding the remnants like a child bored with an old toy. His disdain for the weak was immense; he saw them as insignificant ants, deriving twisted pleasure from their fear, their futile bargaining, and their desperate pleas for mercy that fell on deaf ears.

The aftermath of his presence was a slew of viscera and horror. Bodies were left not just lifeless, but grotesquely dismembered, arranged in singed, disjointed heaps as if part of a macabre art display. He wielded his lightsaber whip with a cruel dexterity, wrapping it around his victims before tightening it, letting each section gruesomely slide through the core, severing and burning simultaneously.

As he turned to face a new arrival, a cold, predatory smile crept across his maw. His gaze fell upon a woman, her blade drawn and pointed towards him. It was not just her defiance that caught his attention—it was her condition. Pregnant and bold, she stood as the first line of defense.

Aziraphale's smile widened, a mix of amusement and disdain coloring his features. The thought of such a warrior, carrying life within her, facing him on the battlefield was both pitiful and laughably dishonorable. The Jedi were the subjects of great tales, now reduced to this—a pregnant woman as their champion. It was laughable. And so, he laughed.

"This is what they send as their protector? Pathetic."

Feeling the presence of others arriving at the scene, Aziraphale decided it was time to unveil the full extent of his malevolent nature. He released the shroud masking his Force signature, allowing his vile, corrupt aura to unfurl across the battlefield. It spread like a toxic mist, the icy grip of dread and despair seeping into the hearts of all who beheld him. His wings, vast and dark, unfurled in a pompous display, inky black feathers fanning out to cast ominous shadows over

Lossa Darcuhl . Each movement was a deliberate act of intimidation as he peacocked, a declaration of his dominance over life and death before her.

Aziraphale's presence was an onslaught not just upon the physical realm but a sinister invasion into the minds of those around him. He was the living embodiment of terror, a tangible manifestation of the deepest, darkest fears. His very essence was a harbinger of despair, leaving indelible scars etched into the psyche of anyone who dared witness his terrifying majesty.

As Nathan engaged, a sinister miasma of black and violet enveloped the scene. The warm, familiar flames intermingled with this eerie, shifting vapor, creating a surreal experiance. Within this haze, glowing, piercing violet eyes fixated on Nathan, marking him. The form of the man began to dematerialize, dissolving before his very eyes. In its place, a wraith-like monstrosity emerged, a creature born from the thick black smog, its form wreathed in fiery shadows.

The air itself seemed to thicken with malevolence as the creature spoke, its voice a chilling blend of menace and delight.

"Ah yes, a new puppet has volunteered their body. I will use you well." The words hung heavy, laden with ominous promise. It was clear that Nathan had unwittingly become a part of Aziraphale's macabre performance, a pawn in a game far more sinister than any battlefield confrontation.

The line between reality and nightmare blurred. This wraith-like entity, amidst the swirling miasma, was nothing short of a spectacle of horror that transcended the physical realms.

This was psychological warfare.

This was not a warrior; this was a monster.

Diodoros · Jan 26, 2024

Location: Jakku
Tag(S): [None Currently]
Equipment: RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol | Monocle Ocular Enhancer

Jakku, a world Diodoros has had the misfortune of being on once before. Saved from starvation and exposure from a clan of Jawa rascals. Recalling how he also met a wonderfully similar gold skinned individual. So it wasn’t an entirely terrible experience. The shiny brute was here because he was hired by someone whom he believed to be a Sith. They possessed a similar disposition and grim aura. He accepted the work since he wanted to foster a good and reliable reputation for the people he was a privateer for.

Plus the payment promised for helping the ‘sith’ spoke to Diodoros’s sensibilities. Paying in gold or other precious metals was a pretty easy way to get the privateer’s attention in addition to any and all plunder he and his crew could get his hands on. He wasn’t sure what his employer actually wanted to accomplish here, not that it really mattered to hired muscle like him. He just knew that

Aziraphale sought to cause havoc elsewhere on the planet.

In the meantime Diodoros had targeted another town, Cratertown specifically. He knew that certain individuals sometimes imported luxury items and he had wanted to intercept some of it for himself. Currently he found himself standing outside a space port. His sizable vessel loomed overhead. Threatening to blast away any ships or speeders that may attempt an escape. Pulling out a transmitter he recorded a message for his employer here.

“Ay’ Mr Aziraphale. Got Cratertown under our boot here. I’ll let you know when we’re done, I ain't looking to be here longer than needed…” A simple holographic recording, and straight to the point. After Which he pocketed his transmitter and put his lit cigarra back to his mouth. Caped loosely over his shoulders was a thick, fluffy overcoat. Stepping into the space port his men had various locals, traders and merchants at gunpoint. His crew consisted largely of hardy aliens recruited from Hutt Space. Gamorreans, Niktos, Weequays. Some trained their weapons on the people they were robbing while others scattered around to see what they could loot from the vessels docked here.

As Diodoros puffed out a thick cloud of smoke from his mouth one of his weequay crewmen approached. “Captain, you’re gonna wanna see what one of the ships was transporting.” With his curiosity piqued he followed them back to one of the ships as it was being ‘liberated’ of its cargo. One of the crates was opened and he peered into it.

“Uh… Bones?” Diodoros asked ignorantly. Feeling a little let down.

“Well, no, It’s ivory.” They replied, correcting their captain.

“Oh, much better.” Reaching into the container he pulled out what seemed like a severed tusk. “Maybe we can say they’re from rare and endangered species. Or even extinct. That should fetch us a good price.” He mused out loud with the cigarra between his teeth in a wide grin.

Lossa Darcuhl · Jan 26, 2024

Location: Jakku
Equipment: Jumpsuit and Armor, Jakku Mantle #2
Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Weapons: Lossa's Lightsaber, Turmoil Only, Nasty-Stabby
Tags:

Aziraphale

Caltin Vanagor

It was playing.

The screams, begging, and other noises that had drawn her closer revealing as much about the nature of the attack as her unanswered question when it addressed her with a sneering laugh. Disdain and mocking plain as the sun that bore down on the planet it was laying waste to.

"Just the first to arrive." A cold snap to her words as she felt the presence of others behind her. Both familiar while some remained fairly new.

The display the being put on made her hesitate, made her anger pause to reassess. But she had made no peace with death from an early age, and fear was a feeling that many had begun to strip away from her. Fear of plunging into the unknown. Fear of meeting the end. Fear of moving forward. It reminded her of the sudden appearance of the Sithspawn on Corva Yag. It's form blurred against her senses then as it lunged from the water to make an attempt at ripping her arm free.

That same arm now removed by some other being. Some other unknown horror that had struck at twilight on Phaseera.

And her latest fight was not nearly as physical. An Invasion of her mind by a pureblood bent on taking her budding power for his own will and leisure. The tables turned when he was made to relive the memories of her earliest recollection against the promised horrors of one wielding unknown magics. Her mind now assaulted by another being, though far less intrusive so much as prospective. The zing of fear and understanding that there was no true way to back out of this without continued disaster making her smile wobbly at best.

An almost nihilistic thing as flames erupted to the beings side. Drawing into itself and reshaping before the physical and other seemed to blend together. The white blade extinguished itself as she wondered if she could actually hit the thing.

"Feth it." The saber clipped onto her hip, she went for a large piece of rubble easily the same size as her. It was awkward with only one arm until her hand found a hold of an edge as the piece swung around her, gaining momentum in the harsh tug and swing as she tried to figure out where the body she'd seen earlier might have been inside that strange shroud.

Letting loose of the hand hold in the second whirl to help Nathan attack the being. The section of building arcing towards the unknown as it spun like a top in flight.

Caltin Vanagor · Jan 26, 2024

The last thing that evil wants...

Location: Jakku Enclave - Launch Bay

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Allies

Nathan Bloodscrawl
Foes

Diodoros

“A person is wise if he listens to millions of advice and doesn't implement any of it.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

He wasn’t planning on it, but Caltin was within sight of what was going on. The Padawans were in over their heads. This… this… entity(for lack of a more direct term) was attacking them, not just physically but in their minds. It was brutal, it was powerful, it was damaging, it was not going to work on him. He could step in and take charge, but the two of them needed this to be able to grow as Jedi. He stood ready, make no mistake, but it would be counter-productive to go through life expecting someone else to come save you.

So without waiting, Caltin emanated an aura of calm that should envelop not only the two Padawans fighting this… thing… but those who were getting refugees to safety. All the while, speaking to them through the Force.

~Calm your mind, and focus on my voice. You are in danger, but you have all of the tools, and the skill you need to survive. None of what you think may be happening to you is real, your mind is being assaulted, attacking your natural anxieties and fears. Focus and listen and ignore what you think you may see.~

It wasn’t the approach he wanted to take… especially with what he was noticing about Darcuhl… but this could work.

... is my undivided attention.

Nathan Bloodscrawl · Jan 26, 2024

Normally, such an outright telepathic assault would not have had much effect on Nathan. Jaded to countless horrors he had witnessed in the Gulag Era, Nathan had had a long time to build up a tolerance to witnessing or surviving the cruel insanity that had been all around him in that era.

But seeing

Lossa Darcuhl pregnant had touched on some very, very delicate wounds in his mind.

It was not as devastating as it could have been...most lesser Padawans would have been driven to frothing insanity. But

Aziraphale 's attack had caused him to see only what he wanted dead. His mind had been jumbled by the vulnerability of being concerned about Lossa's child, and any situation in which a woman and her child were in danger would always strike to his very core, for he had failed to save his family, and he always hated the ones who had taken them away from him.

Caltin Vanagor 's message did not get through to Nathan, eyes emitting a glowing purple light due to being tricked by the Dark Side. He didn't see Caltin but instead

The Battalion , the woman who had murdered his parents. And with Lossa...

...he saw only Darth Phyre, the one who had murdered his wife so completely she didn't even exist in the Force anymore.

Nathan saw only these two smirking Witches, not Jedi allies, clad in their typical white catsuits, brandishing red lightsaber blades.

They were here! Killing again!

Nathan found himself charging at Lossa, not hearing Syd screaming at him from within to stop.

"Things are different this time, Phyre..." he hissed in pure unmitigated loathing as he struck for Lossa's head.

"This time you don't get away with it!"

Aziraphale · Jan 27, 2024

TAGS:

Lossa Darcuhl

Equipment

Violet-Colored Electrical Whip: A saber-like whip that crackles with violet electrical energy, used with precision and speed in combat.
Black and Blue Lightsaber Whip: A second lightsaber-styled whip, shimmering with a menacing black and blue hue, capable of cutting through flesh and severing limbs.
Twin Blades: Slender and lethal, these are part of his concealed arsenal.
Compact Blaster Pistol: Discreetly nestled at his side for quick access.
Concealed Tools Pouch: A small pouch hidden in plain sight, containing various tools.
Throwing Knives: Discreetly secured within a dark leather-bound bandolier.
Wrist-Mounted Derringer-Style Mechanism: Integrated seamlessly with his ensemble for unexpected attacks.
Hard Sound Hand Gun: Emits concentrated blasts of sound capable of disorienting or incapacitating opponents, effective against Jedi who rely on concentration for their Force abilities.
Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) Grenades: Can disable electronic devices and potentially disrupt a Jedi's use of lightsabers or other electronic-based equipment.
Net Launchers with Durasteel Filaments: Entangle and immobilize.
Stun Baton: Deliver high-voltage shocks for incapacitation in close combat.
Poison Dart Shooters: Use toxins to weaken or incapacitate.

Lossa Darcuhl

Diodoros

The scene twisted into a twisted preformance, as Nathan's figure was suddenly engulfed in a hard light projection, transforming his outward appearance into the very image of the scarlet-haired, black-winged Aziraphale. It was a grotesque mirroring, where Aziraphale's form simultaneously contorted, shifting and creaking into a disturbing facsimile of Nathan's own visage. Admidsts to the thick swirling miasthma that radiated out and filled the area it was hard to see what was going on. This was no simple illusion but a rather horrifying metamorphosis, a nightmarish trade of identities that blurred the line between reality and nightmare.

This puppeteering of forms was a twisted tactic, designed to instill fear, sew doubt, and abortive all spread confusion. Nathan was forced to witness his greatest enemies grotesquely vaunted upon the flesh of his companions, a sight so unnerving it threatened to fracture the mind. It was a cruel game, a manipulation of perception and identity.

Aziraphale was here as a distraction, but that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in the terror he created. The air was thick with a sense of dread, emanating from the center of the danger, each moment stretching into an eternity of fear.

In this hellish spectacle, reality itself seemed to warp and weep. The sound of creaking bones and the rustle of feathers filled the air. The aura of despair that enveloped the scene was so overwhelming that it became a truely tangible presence, a suffocating cloak of darkness. Peering through this veil of shadowy miasma proved to be a daunting task, as the source of this profound desolation was difficult to pinpoint. The figures, standing so close together, seemed to allow their force signatures to merge into one another, their outlines blurred and indistinct. This made it nearly impossible to discern which one was emanating the intense, despairing energy that hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog of hopelessness.

"The screams of the fallen are the only victory song that will be heard today. Despair, little Jedi. Despair and weep,"

the voice echoed ominously, its timbre resonating with a chilling, unnatural quality. Each word seemed to hang in the air, reverberating with a sinister echo that twisted and distorted, as if the very atmosphere was corrupted by its malevolence. The haunting cadence of the voice seemed to seep into the bones, a cold feeling of an inescapable grip of darkness.

Tigris · Jan 29, 2024

Location: Jakku
Gear: Jedi Robes, Enclave Gaurdian Mantle, training lightsaber, vibroknife, blaster pistol, emergency beacon, commlink
Tag: Caltin Vanagor , Aziraphale , Lossa Darcuhl , Nathan Bloodscrawl , Diodoros

The buzz of questions was a constant hum that echoed through the SIS. Something was happening out in the desert. A settlement attacked. Rumors bloomed among the padawans, many of whom had not yet learned the danger of conjecture in the void of information. Tigris stiff-armed their anxious curiosity as she sought a more stable source. As usual, she found that as Master Vanagor arrived. His cocktail of authoritative and calming demeanor eased the disturbed padawans.

While most of the apprentices were appeased enough to return to their work, a trio continued to murmur among themselves.

Tigris had to admit she was truly curious about what was going on. If there was something happening on the surface that Vanagor was going to get into, she wanted to be there too. As the three eager padawans followed Master Vanagor's path, Tigris tailed them.

In the launch bay, they again made their appeals to join Master Vanagor. Quietly standing behind them, the waifish Tigris stood and smirked. She would let them do the pleading for her. Finally, the master conceded and, after a mad grab for gear, they all made haste to get to the settlement. With Master Vanagor's curt instructions and a check of their commlinks, the padawans made their way into the settlement.

From the moment they entered the outskirts, Tigris felt it. She knew the Dark Side, and a vile taint of it touched her like eager tendrils. Whatever Lossa was facing tasted of evil. The former assassin slipped away from the others. Tigris would obey the master's orders and seek to help those in need. But even the ex-Seyugi paused at the sight that met her. The mutilated bodies, the indiscriminate murder. It was a darkness corrupt and wicked that had come through the place.

With her emotions tightly closed, Tigris could offer little comfort to those left living and traumatized by the terror. She did attempt to herd them away from the confrontation. She could not see the enemy or Lossa, but she could feel where it was, and she tried to shepherd the villagers into the safety of secure buildings.

Lossa Darcuhl · Jan 30, 2024

Location: Jakku
Equipment: Jumpsuit and Armor, Jakku Mantle #2
Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Weapons: Lossa's Lightsaber, Turmoil Only, Nasty-Stabby
Tags:

Aziraphale

Tigris

Her efforts didn't bear fruit as another issue came to light.

Nathan, or at least what used to be Nathan if she remembered right was charging at her. Then again she'd seen him swap places before. He'd swapped with... whatever that was? It didn't make sense. But she didn't have the time to think about it. Not when the twisting of everything was throwing the scene into twisting imagery and illusions.

Instead gritting her teeth as she was charged. Drawing in the dark side that swirled around them, that familiar thing in her life. She despised how ever present it was, even as she tried so desperately to push it away.

She had lived in her emotions for as long as she could remember. Had always felt the ebb and flow of other's emotions as the undiluted loathing settled on her. While she wasn't the cause, it was clear that it was had been focused on her. She didn't rise to challenge its fixation on her. Instead aiming to remove it from the battle as she controlled herself in the moment. As much as she wanted to be like the ones she looked up to with their steely and unyielding calm, she doubted she would ever reach it. Not when everything seemed to circle back in such a way.

Doubt once more cropped up in the back of her mind. She wasn't what Jakku needed. There were better people than her for the job. Better in every way that mattered. The white blade snapped to life as she quelled the thoughts with a violent mental dash.

The feelings projected toward her were met with an equal level of loathing, but honed to a finer point of control. One that had been made when her body could not respond to the threat. When her mind had been the only available weapon to fight back against the invading darkness that tried to take her. To make it a weapon for another, only to find the mental invasion turned around.

There was no wild thrashing from the Zeltron as the thing struck for her head. No poorly aimed fury now that the threat was more than just violence committed upon others. She wouldn't falter or waver beneath that clear attempt at ending more than just her own life.

Anger focused her mind, heightened her senses, tightened her reactions. The need to live, a selfish notion once, more important now than ever with what was on the line kept her from flinching as her arm moved with enhanced speed. In a low arching twist upward to try and remove the strike aimed at her head. Her whole body contorting enough to present her strike with the white blade first while trying to avoid his. No anger flashed across her face, no flicker of loathing crossed her essence in the Force, using all of her emotions as fuel for the fire needed to live and move forward.

To stop this being in front of her before it tried to kill anyone else.

Before it tried to end her.

Caltin Vanagor · Jan 30, 2024

The last thing that evil wants...

Location: Jakku Enclave - Launch Bay

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Allies:

Nathan Bloodscrawl |

Tigris
Foes:

Diodoros

“A person is wise if he listens to millions of advice and doesn't implement any of it.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

One of the annoyances of being around as long as Vanagor has(

Valery Noble , @Ilias Natru,

Ala Quin , they know this too, to be sure) is that you tend to lose patience sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes indeed. He wasn’t surprised to see a Padawan to be enveloped in a mind attack, but it was still annoying to see, it meant that they needed more and better training and should not necessarily be in the field yet.

This was the first thing I learned after being able to sense others, how to protect myself. Times have indeed changed.

No doubt to the possibility of the attacker being more skilled and/or powerful than them, but… this was going to end, and that process was going to begin now.

This shapeshifting, body-morphing, “monster” was good at what he did, powerful and deadly to be sure, but he was about to meet someone who was falling back on tactics of the greedy and power hungry. Intimidation and arrogance. This was right up Caltin’s alley as he spent much of his Knighthood learning the mannerisms to take the fight to Sith and (hopefully) beat them at their own game.

THAT’S ENOUGH!

One great thing about being a Master of the Force(though Caltin would tell you he still had more to learn) was learning to manage how to call it and direct it in multiple manners at the same time. The best way to stop Bloodscrawl from charging was to center the Force in his right hand and “grab” his feet, sending the Nemesis to the ground. If this worked the way he wanted it to(even if it didn’t) the next thing was a Wall of Light that could be seen by the Padawans all around the settlement. If the effect was as he would have hoped, any of them who were not entirely engulfed in this mind raid so masterfully crafted by Aziraphale would be dazed for a few moments.

Caltin would take this moment to call on the oxygen in the area, the moisture, and bring it all together violently. Crashing, barreling and gusting winds with increasing moisture, he was creating a storm, a storm that should dampen (no pun intended) the attacker’s efforts. Turning ot the two Padawans,

Go! Now! The look on his face was bereft of any compassion, comfort, or ease. The old man was angry.

Speaking through the Force so as not to embarrass her, he entered Lossa’s mind.

~We will speak on this when we see each other again, Padawan.~

She was skilled, she had the experience, and the mindset to be close to being Knighted, this was a “bad day” for her, she would have to realize that.

... is my undivided attention.

Nathan Bloodscrawl · Jan 30, 2024

When Nathan felt the tug at his feet, the hard grab from

Caltin Vanagor , he instinctively shielded his body with the Force to escape the grab (Not without difficulty: his movements slowed like molasses but he escaped the grip, and the fact that he had managed to escape Caltin's grip at all spoke to sheer determination as much as Force Potential), so bent on reaching and killing who he thought was Darth Phyre that even the wall of Light didn't completely slow his charge, but it did daze him as he executed his attack.

And due to that dazed few moments he was only able to somewhat deflect the Lightsaber counter from

Lossa Darcuhl but not completely. The last second use of Soresu, taught by his father, saved his life.

The tip of her blade managed to graze his face on his left side, missing his eye, but leaving a scar just below it and a scar just above it on his forehead.

He stumbled back. And when Caltin blasted

Aziraphale , the momentary loss of oxygen in the area stunned him further. He saw The Battalion in Caltin's place electrocuting a whole community of innocent people but before he could move to attack again, Syd's shouting at him through their bond broke the spell.

Nathan felt the scar, but even his limited emotional capacity let him feel a dawning sense of horror and guilt at what he had tried to do while entranced.

It was the perfect storm. His wife had been murdered by someone very similar to this monster. The perfect crack in his armor, as seeing Lossa pregnant had brought him back to the day on Dantooine.

His pain from the scar was outweighed by realizing what had transpired.

He shut off his lightsaber as he regained his balance, inner discipline reasserting itself, frantically trying to repair the crack.

"Lossa, are you alright?" Nathan called out to Lossa.

What if he hadn't been blocked by Vanagor?

He could have killed her.

Nathan clamped down on the feeling of anger before it could fester at the being who had done this to him.

Tigris · Jan 31, 2024

Location: Jakku
Gear: Jedi Robes, Enclave Gaurdian Mantle, training lightsaber, vibroknife, blaster pistol, emergency beacon, commlink
Tag: Caltin Vanagor , Aziraphale , Lossa Darcuhl , Nathan Bloodscrawl , Diodoros

As Tigris tried to herd the surviving residents to safety, Fortunately, she was beyond the reach of the malefactor's influence. A quick glance around revealed that the other padawans must have gone down other streets. With her arms around two young children she roughly hurried them into a small duracrete hut. A strong wind suddenly swept down the dusty street and the usually dry air smacked of moisture.

Peering down an alley, she could see between buildings some of what was happening at the edge of the settlement. The padawan couldn't see whatever had caused such devastation, but she could see Lossa, saber in hand, and a stumbling Bloodscrawl with his own weapon... attacking her. "No!"

Turning her head, she shouted desperately over the wind, "Get to shelter with the wounded! Leave the dead!" Turning, back, she saw the intense glow of bluish energy block out everything else down the street. She ran down the street towards the powerful manifestation of the Force.

When she rounded he building and the scene came back into view, she was closer, and could see all that had unfolded. Through the swirling dust and droplets of moisture and the beyond the glowing wall of Light, she saw the dark-winged enigma, Lossa and Nathan no longer engaged and a very, very angry Master Vanagor. Tigris thought to call to him, the despair emanating from the dark being licking at the edge of her conscience. But she held her tongue.

The ex-assassin padawan lingered at the corner of the building, not out of fear, but out of a need to assess the situation. She didn't understand why she saw Lossa strike at Bloodscrawl, and not the ominous creature before them. Her instinct was to linger unseen, until she could determine what was going on and how she could best react. She pulled the Force around her to cloak her from sight.

Diodoros · Jan 31, 2024

Location: Jakku - Cratertown
Tag(S):

Caltin Vanagor |

Nathan Bloodscrawl
Equipment: RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol | Monocle Ocular Enhancer

Meanwhile in Cratertown…

A small BB series droid shook nervously as it was kept still by one of the crewmen of Diodoros. Standing back he aligned himself before rushing to the droid. Pulling his leg back he swung his foot into the ball shaped droid like a ball. Sending the mechanical being flying up into the air and passing between two buildings. It let out a loud mechanical droid speak screech as it did so.

Diodoros was merely passing the time while his crew worked to take any and all things of value that they could from the spaceport in town. As he admired the distance he managed to kick the poor droid a Gamorrean approached him. “Capin’ we loot’d the ships like you ordered. Should get goin’?”

The golden man thought for a moment and pulled out a datapad to check the time. “Hmm… well we haven’t really had any real resistance yet. And I assume that Mr Azriaphale is doing alright. At least I hope so. Why don’t we stick around a little longer and see what else this town has to offer.” Diodoros ordered with a wicked grin. Giving his men free range to plunder whatever they saw fit from the rest of the town. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to try and stop them.

. . .

As Diodoros continued his carnage over Cratertown the mayor had seemed to have enough of him and his crew’s brutish presence there. “You said you were just going to rob the spaceport! Now you’re robbing the entire town!” They shouted, seemingly done with being held at gunpoint any longer.

“Yeah, but I was expecting some more resistance. But it seems like nobody is coming to help you all. Must be pretty preoccupied.” Diodoros said rather nonchalantly. Internally feeling rather envious over the idea that Aziraphale was having all the fun. He looked down to see the mayor gritting their teeth, clearly furious.

“I won’t stand for this a second longer!” The Mayor shouted before a small holdout slugthrower appeared in their hand. Having been concealed and holstered in their sleeve. Quickly emptying four shots into the side of Diodoros’s torso and shoulder. The golden man snarled in annoyance and pain from the sting of their shots. Flashing one of his prominent canines. Diodoros simply stepped closer to the Mayor, looming over them before pulling one of his arms back and twisting his hips before grabbing the Mayor by the collar violently. Easily lifting them off their feet, Diodoros choke-slammed hard into the ground below. Creating a bit of a dust cloud from the impact of striking their body against the ground so hard. Although annoyed with the man, Diodoros could feel some respect for the Mayor standing up to him like that.

Standing letting go of the dead or unconscious Mayor Diodooros straightened his posture. Looking down at the bullet holes in his body as his blood began to stain his shirt. Letting out an aggravated sigh he turned to see some of his crew who had simply watched his brief and violent exchange with the community leader. “I think that we’ll raise their town hall as well…”

Aziraphale · Jan 31, 2024

TAGS:

As the Wall of Light, a manifestation of the collective strength and purity, rose against Aziraphale's oppressive presence, the dark figure's powers began to wane. The once potent and overwhelming aura of malevolence that he exuded started to dissipate in the minds of those protected by the wall of light, like shadows retreating from the encroaching dawn. The light was pure and unyielding, pushing back against the darkness, elevating the battlefield beyond that of physical prowess in to a decisive match of spiritual wills.

In the midst of this titanic struggle, the illusion that Aziraphale had cast over Nathan's visage began to fracture. The deceptive mask of Nathan, used as a tool for confusion and manipulation, melted away. In its place, the true 'form' of Aziraphale emerged, not as a man, but as a creature of nightmares wreathed in darkness. His body elongated, morphing into a towering specter with massive, razor-sharp claws and glowing violet eyes that pierced through the thickening miasma that swirled in the storm growing in potency. The transformation was a grotesque display of his true nature, unbound by physical laws, unveiling it's self as a manifestation of fear and darkness.

Azirapahle released his puppet leaving

Nathan Bloodscrawl to reel in the reality of what he almost did to

Lossa Darcuhl .

Even as his powers were challenged by the Wall of Light, he reveled in the chaos he had sown. His chilling voice rang out in mockery and delight, echoed across the battlefield, taunting the Jedi.

"Oh, how quickly anger rises in the hearts of the so-called guardians of peace," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Look at you, unable to distinguish friend from foe? And so easily succumbing to the basest of your emotions. Is this the discipline of the Jedi? Is this the control you pride yourselves upon?"

His cold and hallow laughter rang out as he watched the Jedi struggle against their own emotions and the confusion he had created. "You wear your righteousness like a cloak, but beneath it lies a heart of chaos. You fight not for peace, but for the illusion of order. And in that fight, you become what you most despise."

Aziraphale's form, now a towering wraith, seemed to absorb the fear and anger around him, growing more formidable even as the Wall of Light sought to suppress his influence.
As Tigris, cloaked herself in the Force, moving cautiously through the chaos of the swirling miasma of dark energy and the torrential weather created an environment where the Force was palpably present in every gust of wind and drop of rain. In this maelstrom of energy, her attempt to suppress her presence ironically made her stand out like a calm eye in a storm, a void in the Force that was all too noticeable to some one like Aziraphale.

She, had his attention.
Suddenly, the ground around her seemed to come alive. Arms, ethereal and ghastly, reached up from the earth, grasping and clawing at her. They were the arms of her her dark past, a past she had tried to bury but which now seemed determined to drag her back down into its depths. As these manifestations of her night terrors were made tangible around her, she faced the physical embodiment of her deepest fears and guilt, the terror it wrought could be overwhelming.

The faces of those she had wronged, their screams, their pleading eyes, hauntingly projected in all too real presence around her. The night-terrors were so real, so visceral, that they threatened to incapacitate her, to pull her back into the darkness she had fought so hard to escape.

Should her calm demeanor falter to the all too real presence of the manifestations made physical she might realize that to overcome this trial, she would need to draw upon the strength she had found in embracing the Light, to use her newfound resolve to push back against the darkness that sought to reclaim her.
As Tigris was left to fight against her own personal demons conjured forth by Aziraphale, the dark figure turned his malevolent gaze towards

Caltin Vanagor , sensing an opportunity to further sow discord and doubt among the Jedi.

Aziraphale's voice, imbued with dark amusement and scorn, pierced through the chaos of the battlefield, booming over the winds.

"You don't like it, do you, Vanagor? Seeing the limits of your power so starkly laid bare," Aziraphale taunted, his voice a serpentine hiss that seemed to slither through the air. "You claim to protect, to guide, yet here you stand, unable to shield even those closest to you from their darkest fears."

His words were like venom, designed to wound as much as any physical blow. Aziraphale's form, seemed to loom larger with each word, as if fed by the turmoil his words incited.

"You can't even 'protect' your people," he continued, each word dripping with derision. "What use is your vaunted wisdom, your mastery of the Force, if you cannot prevent their suffering? If you cannot keep the shadows at bay?"

The was a pause here that hung in the air, followed shortly by a sadistic tone punctuated with manic laughter.

" You can't even protect yourself."

Moments before, the dark energy around them had been akin to a trickling leak from a garden hose—present, persistent, but seemingly manageable. However, in an instant, that deceptive trickle transformed explosively. The dark miasma surged with exponentialy, swelling into a blackened abyss with the ferocity of a dam burst wide open. This sudden explosion of darkness, compared to the mere leak before, aimed directly at

Caltin Vanagor . Engulfing him in a dense, swirling orb, it sought to isolate him in a void of despair, a profound upheaval of darkness attempting to bury him away from the light.

It would seem that for

Diodoros Azriaphale was an excellent distraction, allowing him loose like a kid in a candy store with no one to stop him.

Caltin Vanagor · Feb 1, 2024

The last thing that evil wants...

Location: Jakku Enclave - Launch Bay

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Allies:

Nathan Bloodscrawl |

Tigris
Foes: