Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

Guardian Angel | Light of Ashla
Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
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[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina shows her memories to Vinaze.
  • Eina speaks to Vinaze.
Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

She prepares to leave and tells Gei her worries.

~ Sanctuary, Netherworld, not too much before the Maw's attack ~
Eina and Geiseric did not go ahead with the others to Tython; for them it was a few minutes through the Netherworld. The last few days have been spent at the Sanctuary. But the days together before the war soon came to an end and now they had to go. Eina had been restless for days. She wasn't nervous or tense, but she felt in the Force that something was approaching, something bad. There was a disturbance in the Force, and she was blind this time.

She had always been receptive to this, and she knew she would always feel this before all of the major wars. Death always attracted her due to her species. But today, she felt the cruel longing and hunger of beings who are hungry for souls, and she felt the Bogan more than ever. Even now, it was like feelings like Csilla happened, or just before the great Korriban fight. And there at Korriban, Gei didn't come home. Everyone thought he was dead, only Eina fought for him. They were just friends back then, though there were already connections between them, they were from the first moment, but they weren't too close to each other. But today?

Best friends, soul mates, lovers, husband and wife. As they were just putting on their armour to leave, Eina walked over to Gei and embraced him from behind as she cuddled up to the man. Her forearms placed on the man's belly and his upper body, then the woman's two palms stopped on the man's chest and hugged him in this way. The Valkyrja placed her chin on the man's shoulder and looked at him from the side.

["I have been feeling the joy, the hunger and excitement of Maw’s Avatars for days. It is the strongest today. It causes restlessness as if they know something in advance. But the future is now shrouded in darkness. Ashla's light can't penetrate the shadow of Maw's Avatars. I'm blind. Please take great care of yourself during the fight, you know I can't fight on your side right now, my beloved crusader!"] she whispered to him in Essonian.

She closed her eyes after her words, it was such a peaceful and intimate moment and it was such a good feeling to embrace her husband…



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Location: The Sanctuary, Netherworld (Current), Akar Kesh (Soon)
Equipment: In Sig
Writing With: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze (Soon)




Geiseric's mind had been wrought by dark dreams for days now. The loss of Empress Teta weighed heavily on the Ashlan Crusaders. The attack had come so quickly, catching the galaxy off-guard. While there were still those in the ranks of the Crusade who distrusted the Galactic Alliance, no amount of enmity between the two governments could overshadow the need for unity against their common enemy. The Brotherhood was bolder than ever, and once again the Sith were in the Core Worlds.

His premonitions in the night, it seemed, were only getting stronger. He knew he was not the only Jedi seeing such visions in the Force. The plague that was the Bogan threatened to infect them all. In recent days Gei had helped to oversee the raising of the war machine to new heights. Lord Grayson's grand vision for the Jedi Order demanded that much of him. The impending battle would be the one that would either destroy the Jedi forever, or set them free.

Now, as the Crusade marched to Tython, Geiseric took a moment of respite. In the home of his wife, a place that had become a home to him as well, he said his goodbyes. The denizens of the Sanctuary knew they may never see him again.

The frigid air of the place, that had once scorned him, had become something calming. Together the husband and wife donned their armor in silence, for there was no need to speak. Their Dyad in the Force told them everything they needed to know of one another. As he stood from putting on his greaves, he felt the warm embrace of Eina from behind. Words in his native language soothingly parted from her lips. It honored him greatly that she had learned the Essonian tongue, for it kept him connected as well to his people.

"You are always by my side. You could journey to Firefist and never leave my heart. I beg of you, my love, do not fear. There is only courage to be had. I know you do not see yourself as a Jedi, but you have done great services to the Order. No greater service can be given than to defend Tython"



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Location: Akar Kesh
Writing With: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone else on OBJ III / Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir (Soon)


And finally came the day of reckoning. Every dark power in the galaxy worth their blackened blood descended on Tython like a hawk to its pray. The bones of many a world had already been picked clean by the vultures. This day would prove him right, truly and unequivocally after decades. Here, the birthplace of the Force, The Sith'ari would fulfill the prophecy.

Alongside the retinue of Darth Solipsis, Vinaze was but a mere warping feeling in the air. His presence in the Force utterly black, mixing with the darkening aura of the world, melding with it. He needed not to show himself to the other Sith Lords. There was no pomp and ceremony to be had today worthy of conjuring a mortal form. On this monumental day he was as one with the Force as he had ever been, ever allowed himself to be.

All of the dread lord's energies had to be directed toward Solipsis today, to ensure the ritual was a success. The Jedi had come close to thwarting them at Csilla, and Asog. Momentary setbacks, it seemed, for the Maw had reached Tython as easily as a blade reaches the heart of the inferior swordsman. The Sith were as united as ever, and the Jedi were apart, crumbling.

As the prodigal daughter attended her father, and the ritual began, an aquatic and murky eye popped through the threshold between worlds at the side of Mandalore the Unchained.

"This is the paradise of which I spoke, Khamul. Drink in its power. We are home."

The once blue skies darkened to sickly, writhing blackness, like the Bogan had consumed the heavens. Lightning of all colours erratically seizured from inked clouds striking the fertile valleys below them. Oh he had seen such beautiful storms before, but those had always been the product of men. This one rivalled them all, created by a god, created by the collective will of the Dark Side and its one true son.

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

She speaking with Gei.

~ Sanctuary, Netherworld, not too much before the Maw's attack ~
["I'm not afraid, my beloved crusader! No one knows better than me that death is not the end, but only a new beginning. Beginning of a new life. Stars, planets, and lives have always been destroyed. In a natural way or by force. It’s all a natural part of life, even if it’s committed as horribly as the Maw."] her voice was reassuring and deeper than usual.

She really wasn't afraid, at least not of death. The Valkyrja wasn't worried about that. Eina was worried about things bigger than that. Not the deeds and acts of mortals, but the Avatars'.

["I just don’t know my own destiny, but it doesn’t bother me, even if it will be my final death. The only thing I’m worried about is... no, I’m not afraid, I’m just worried it is... I'm worrying for every soul, lest they not share in that fate like my father’s soul. I do not wish for a soul to be torn apart, never to find peace, but to be captured only in their own madness."] her voice was sad now, never telling of the fate of her father until now.

For a few more moments she enjoyed being able to cuddle and embrace the crusader.

["Many Valkyrja will be present on the planet for understandable reasons. However, I am sending out some teams to keep an eye on the Avatars as well, here in the Netherworld. I’m more worried about what’s going on here than in Realspace. There are many who fight there to protect the planet, but there are few creatures here that can defy creatures like War, Death, and Rebirth."] she explained to him, however she knows her husband knows this.

Now she let the man go so they could both finish armour dressing. Meanwhile, she telepathically told her people to go to guard the territory of the Avatars. If there is a problem there, do not intervene for now, just let her know.

["Regardless, promise me, to take care of yourself!"] she asked him in a soft voice with a warm smile.

She picked up the armour gloves as a last accessory, probably finishing it all at the same time as her husband. After that, she'll step to him, if Gei hasn't put on his helmet yet, she'll caress his cheek and kiss him softly.

["Let me know if we can leave."] she asked him, when the man is ready, she opens a rift for themselves that will get them to Tython if they go through it.




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Location: The Sanctuary, Netherworld (Current), Akar Kesh (Soon)
Equipment: In Sig
Writing With: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze (Soon)




Death was not the end for a Jedi, but merely a new beginning in the Force. His lover's words did reassure him not to worry, and he tried to take them to heart. A lot of people would die in the coming battle, both those sensitive to the Force and those not. There was nothing either of them could do about it.

By now he was certain the Sith had engaged the Jedi. That much he could feel, echoing out from the heart of Ashla across space and time. When he closed his eyes, he only caught faint glimpses of what was to come, or perhaps they were visions of what had passed. They did not make sense to him. He would have to see the state of Tython in person. The moments until he did were counting down, hanging tensely in the air. He knew he could not stay here in Eina's embrace forever.

"I will take care of myself, and as many souls as I can save with every Sith I cut down. That much I can promise you, my dear. Even those wayward souls your Valkryja cannot catch shall be returned to the Force."

The pair tenderly enjoyed a final kiss before their time was up. Eina conjured the portal that would lead them to the field of battle. It swirled black and blue with tiny stars like a night sky, beckoning them inwards towards the fate of the Jedi...

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina and Gei arrive at Tython.
  • Eina feels Vinaze and Khamul's presence.

["Thank you!"] she breathed.

She could still feel the joy and laughter of the Avatars. For the last time, she looked that direction from where she felt it through the Force. However, the Avatars have not acted yet. Eina did not want to provoke them by being attacked now. It was better to keep an eye on the area for now. However, after the kiss, they had to leave. The rift opened and she followed Gei back to Realspace.

She had never been to Tython before, but Eina immediately felt and saw the past and the significance of the place. The Valkyrja saw the past lives, the significance of the place, the countless events that took place here. That time, when the Je'daii order, they were fighting the Infinite Empire, the Rakatas. The all-decisive struggle of that time, war. She saw the echoes of Xesh and Shea Koda in the Force just like countless other heroes' who lived at the time. This place was stunning.

["This place… I wish you could see it the way I do, Gei! Living history!"] she told him.

For her, the world was very different, to be seen in the Force and in reality at the same time; to see souls, echoes, everything. It was much deeper than for anyone else. Many times, she wished her beloved crusader could see the world the way she did. However, after the overwhelming feelings of the past, Eina had already seen and felt the horrors of the present. And she sensed something else too.

Something, someone, that it had at least as little place here as she had.

["My Valkyrjas and I are not the only ones here from the Netherworld. I'm not talking about demons or summoned creatures. I felt this… this power on Malachor V when we were there, an eldritch creature. And I feel him too. Khamul Kryze. From that direction. They’re both there, with a lot of other people."] she pointed her hand towards the Akar Kesh temple.

Eina had a feeling that both Mandalore and the Eldritch creature already knew they had arrived. During the Force Storm and in this place with the Dyad, they glowed very brightly in the darkness...




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The Unchained

Engaging:
Geiseric Geiseric (soon)

Allies: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze , Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis ,Darth Mori, Dodhorn Harert, Zachariel Steelblood, Chassella Chassella , Laoth, Danika Leventis, Darth Ptolemis, Zinn Zinn Bink'sa

Enemies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Judah Lesan, Ingrid L'lerim, Aoki Mira, Valery Noble Valery Noble , Rurik Fel Rurik Fel , Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder , Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam


Lacrimosa

The skies blackened over Tython, enveloping the planet within the ethereal shroud of the Dark Side. The Brotherhood had fought their way across the stars, spreading the unholy words of their dreaded Avatars as they bathed in the blood of their fallen enemies. Through it all, the weakened masses attempted to push the tide of darkness back, even having done so successfully at times, if only for a moment. Such victories only delayed the inevitable, however, for no amount of mustered forces could possibly dream of overcoming the machinations of the Maw. The Imperials... the Jedi... the Dar'manda... all of them were simply whispers in the wind, doomed to be swept away by the current of the Dark Voice and his ilk. Today would be a testament of that, and the Demon Mandalore would have a front row seat as the birthplace of the Jedi came crashing down around them.

He stood near the blackened visage of Darth Solipsis as he unleashed his will upon the planet, his masked gaze fixed upon the brilliant display of power as the torrent continued to build and cascade across the blotted skies. There was a sense of... was it admiration? Perhaps. Khamul may have only seen the Dark Voice as a stepping stone on the path to achieving his own goals, but the Unchained always respected strength, even if it came from one that he was destined to one day ascend above. Anyone that underestimated such power would surely perish in its wake, just as so many would on this very day.

As he stood there, a single aqueous, inky eye produced itself next to him, a piece of the otherworldly presence of none other than Darth Vinaze. Khamul's long time comrade mused over the current state of the Maw's attack, prompting Khamul to turn his attention toward the hovering eye.

"Indeed..."

And drink in the power he did, allowing the swirling energies flow through him freely as he bathed in their foul radiance.

"This will be the beginning, Vinaze... soon, we will all be baptized by the veil of shadow."

Within the umbra of the Dark Side, Khamul could sense the faintest trickle of light, as if a burning lantern danced in the distance, beyond the horizon of darkness. It was a familiar feeling, something he had felt once before upon a distant planet.

"I sense that I will prove my own worth before the day is out."





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Location: Akar Kesh
ALLIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone Sith on OBJ III
ENEMY: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir




As The Prophet and the Saviour of the Mandalorians together looked on at the coming battle, Vinaze could not help but reflect on where they had come from. He recalled the cold sting of stygian steel bloodying his palm in the Citadel of Ziost, in a time when that world was still the heart of darkness, pledging himself to Darth Voyance. He recalled the burning streets of Bastion as the New Empire wrenched it from the dying hands of the old. He recalled Thule, Felucia... where Solipsis had cemented himself as the Dark Lord of all Sith. Finally his mind flashed to throne of the Sith, where had proclaimed the prophecy... complete.

But for everything Exegol had become to the New Sith Order, it was truly but a final refuge for a dying breed. The Jedi had taken all the worlds they held dear and holy, making them perverse with the naivete of the Light Side. That was Vinaze's true desire for Tython, to be snuffed in vengeance for Dromund Kaas, for Ziost, for Malachor. When they were done here, the false dichotomy would be destroyed, and from the ashes the Sith would rise like the pheonix, born anew to overshadow every incarnation of their order before.

While he pondered the future he felt the arrival of the Jedi, en masse. No one had doubted that their enemies would not give their all to defend the Temple of Balance. But their all would not suffice.

As the battle began to rage he felt one signature in the Force, faint in the eye of the storm but full in its Light, in its intent. He'd felt this one before. Khamul felt it too.

"I must make a call lest I miss an opportunity I have long awaited. I suggest you to follow suit." with those words Vinaze disappeared from view, melting back into the darkness that consumed the temple plateau.

He weaved his consciousness through the waves of the Force, feeling the nagging weight of the Jedi battle meditation pushing back against the darkness of the Sith'ari's ritual, until finally he reached her. The guardian angel of the Jedi Crusade, as it were.

He did not need to show himself, for just like him she was a creature of the beyond.

"Eina... L'lerim is it? Your name carries a weight that belies you, child. Long have I sense you in the corners of my mind, always the ready defender of Jedi wherever I find them. Today we will put a final end to that."


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Location: Akar Kesh
Equipment: In Sig
ALLIES: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Battle Meditators / Jedi on OBJ III
ENEMIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze


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The Netherworld rift delivered them unto a sight he wished he had not seen. Geiseric had been to Tython before, but never to the Temple of Balance. Everything was wrong, a beautiful blessed world turned sick by the Bogan. By the time the couple arrived, the battle was already underway. Lightsabers crashed, blue, green and red flying indiscriminately as each combatant fought for their life. Without hesitation the paladin ignited his own golden blade and activated the shield on his left arm.

"Eina, make yourself scarce. I'm going for the center." he yelled to his wife over the storm, before breaking into a jog, amplified by the Force to take the weight from his heavy armour.

Even in the darkness he recognized the faces of a few Jedi he knew, people he would rather not see killed. But death at a time like this was inevitable, and it was clear each and every Jedi assaulting Solipsis and his minions was ready to give up their ghost in the line of duty, or else they would not have set foot in Akar Kesh.

He waded through the battle towards the center of the mount, where he could see Solipsis surrounded by his entourage. Dour masks obscured many a face, and furthermore faces were unrecognizable to him. Save for one figure who immediately caught his attention. He could not mistake the bloodplate of the slaver Mand'alor, who he had fought to a standstill at Kamar.

Geiseric stopped 20 yards from the ritual, evidently drawing the attention of a few Sith, though he could not bring himself to care. He had seen what happened at the hands of Khamul Kryze. He demanded satisfaction from this one alone, to avenge the fallen he had seen with his own eyes. Geiseric called out across the Force, channeling his energy towards his challenge knowing full well he could not use normal words over the storm.

Instead his words echoed through the Force, unspoken but clearly heard.

"Unchained! Step down and face me!"

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina tries to encourage her husband.
  • Eina accepts Vinaze's duel.

["You don't have to worry about me, my love. I can take care of myself."] she told him.

As always, it was a pleasant feeling that Gei was worried about her, though typically unnecessarily. Now, of course, it was necessary for her to be in a place where there was not much fighting, as she herself wanted to perform combat meditation to help Ashla's helpers. And for that, it would have really been advisable for her to avoid all the situations her husband mentioned. Eina watched the crusader move in the direction of the ritual; she was still blinded by Bogan's power, she did not see the future. In the present circumstances, countless souls can walk like the soul of her father. She hoped it wouldn't happen.

~ Don’t let your feelings lead in the fight against the Mand'alore. I know you're frustrated because you couldn’t beat him on Kamar. Fight against him with a clear mind. I will be here and support you, my beloved crusader! ~ she told him this time in telepathic way. ~ May Ashla guide and protect you! ~

Because they never left each other, they were not far apart, they were one in the Force. And Mand'alore was a worthy opponent even to the mother of the Valkyrja, even though the Eternal Empress was a very good warrior. She watched as Gei reached the part where the majority fought. She looked around. Smaller creatures, demons, did not dare to come near Eina, Ashla's light and strength was too strong in her, and the creatures of Netherworld knew her and her species.

Eina looked up at the sky, saw the members of Valkyrja. It was then that she decided to start and look for a place to join those who had felt the battle meditation. However, she could not set off because at first she only felt the power and presence of the Eldritch being. She turned in the direction where she felt the man. She really saw the other creature, looked at him. Although she had never seen it before, she knew it from his appearance.

"Darth Vinaze, right?" she asked him. "L'lerim-Vandiir. I was born half from the soul of Darth Prospero, not just the soul of the Eternal Empress. I felt you, too, many times. But your presence was not threatening and weak compared to the Avatars. So I didn't deal with you."

Eina's voice was not mocking, she did not know the mockery. She was just honest as always.

"But here in Realspace, War, Death, and Rebirth aren’t present, so I have time to deal with you. I'm not going to run away from the fight, Darth Vinaze. In what form do you want our encounter? I assume not with steel, since you are not a warrior but a sorcerer. How do you want to make the war of the mind?" she asked him.




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The Unchained

Engaging:
Geiseric Geiseric

Allies: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze , Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis

Enemies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam



Vampyra Missa

"Happy hunting, Vinaze."

The inky blot that was Darth Vinaze faded back into the darkness from whence it came, leaving Khamul to find his own battle to fight. Not long after his old comrade left, the ever-lingering twinkle of distant light drew closer, slowly turning into a bright flame among the swirling darkness of the Maw. The energy had become unmistakable...

"Crusader..."

Suddenly, a silent thought roared across the empyrean, as if the man were shouting from only a couple of feet away. It was a challenge from none other than that same Ashlan knight Khamul had fought upon the sands of Kamar. Their last encounter had ended in a stalemate, leaving a foul taste in the Demon Mandalore's mouth. Khamul had been robbed of his trophy... it would not happen again.

Turning his full attention to the Crusader, The Unchained calmly approached, his hand slowly reaching for Mandalore's Lament. As he drew the weapon, Khamul's gaze remained fixed on Geiseric, his mask pulsating with a red glow from the Sarrassian iron that held it together.

SNAP-HISS

Black and red plasma erupted from the handle, pulsating with the same dark energy that permeated from his mask. Khamul could feel the power rushing through him, amplified by the dark machinations of Solipsis. The thunderous cracks of the storm above rippled through every fiber of the man's being, providing him with power, the likes of which he had never felt before.

"It was foolish to come here, Jedi. Tell me, are you so eager to die?"

As he questioned the opposition, he felt the greatest shift in the Force he'd ever felt. Like a tidalwave, threatening to knock him from balance. His focus broke from the Mandalore long enough to realize what was occurring. The dark sky filled with fire that rain down upon them from the holiest moon itself. Under his breath his muttered a prayer, and turned his attention back to Khamul.

One way or another it was the beginning of the end. And Geiseric was not afraid.




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Location: Akar Kesh
Equipment: In Sig
ALLIES: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Battle Meditators / Jedi on OBJ III
ENEMIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze


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The battle passed by around them as if there was nothing else between them. Geiseric's focus was entirely on the Demon Mandalore. If he could likewise hold the man's attention, then those challenging the Dark Lord himself had a better chance... to end this.



"I am eager to see this end. But I will patiently wait until you are dealt with first."

Geiseric took the anchored stance of the Stone Form. For once the Light of Ashla within him was dimmed, overshadowed by the Bogan. Were they loosing the fight? He was unsure. His fight against the Mandalore was only just beginning.

Khamul boiled with the darkness, it was clear. Just as Geiseric radiated his own energy given by the lady Ashla, illuminated further by the light of his life, Eina. On Kamar they had been the unstoppable force and the unmovable object. If either one slipped from that role it could mean death. yet, Geiseric suspect that was much more of an issue for his opponent. For all the Sith revelled in Death, they were afraid of it.

"I do not fear death, warrior of Mandalore." Geiseric's body was as rigid as a mountain, yet his mind flowed like water, ready at any second to change that. He awaited the first strike of the Darksaber.

"Are you afraid to become one with the Force?"



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Location: Akar Kesh
ALLIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone Sith on OBJ III
ENEMY: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir


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"I cannot tell whether your insolence is merely naivete, or if the Jedi had truly stooped so low. They used to have some respect for us. But you are correct. I am no warrior, yet there are places in this reality where only a few can get, I among them."

The entity reached through the Force as he had done with a dozen Jedi before, reaching for the mind's eye of his enemy. In the deepest recesses of the cerebral plane was where Vinaze did battle, and right away he could tell this new foe would not break easy. She had suffered here before, trapped in her mind, behind eyes not her own. It had made her stronger.

Eina's vision would fade to black as Vinaze weaved and molded their battleground, a stadium in the Force's abyssal void for none but them.


"It is not the Avatars of the Maw that you need worry about in immediacy, nor is it I. But, I will stand in your way nevertheless. I welcome you, daughter of two empires, to our shared consciousness. Do you recall the last time you shared a consciousness with a monster?"

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina goes into a safe place and turns into immaterial form.
  • Eina enters the mind palace, where they will fight.

"Insolence?" she asked back in confusion. "I never behave disrespectfully against anyone, not even my opponents. And I'm not a Jedi, I've never been and never will be. I'm a Valkyrja." she told him.

Eina saw for the first time in the Force what was happening during the ritual. She heard the cries, saw the soldiers' souls and lives intertwined with the ritual. She had never seen such atrocities before, not even at the Netherworld. She felt bad about it all. She felt the power of Solipsis and the man crushing Ashla's surface. The "fire" from the sky began to fall…

It was then that the Valkyrja felt what the man was doing. She didn't defend herself because she accepted that they would fight where the man wanted. Eina, like a Valkyrja, never broke her word. However, she knew that in a moment she would not perceive the outside world, only her mind, the inside of their mind, so she had to defend herself. She teleported to a more sheltered place and then picked up her immaterial state, which was natural and ideal for her. So no one saw her, and no one perceived her, and she was safe.

Ever since what Hyrva had done to her, she hadn’t particularly loved mental fights, but through the parasite she had learned how to resist, to defend herself. True, Gei was there with her last time. She would be alone now, but she was not in such a mental crisis now as she was then, though Heinrich Faust's distancing and coldness was painful for her. After all, she loved the man as her own brother and did not understand why he was staying away from her and Gei.

She shuddered at the question, it was something she would never, ever forget. Eina was alone then; not now. Although Gei was not here physically, nor with this mind-palace, but, his silver-gold aura surrounded Eina's golden one. Eina always saw him as silvery, a combination of gold and silver. And just as Gei's strength embraced her, so did her own embraced her husband as he fought Khamul. They were one in the Force.

~ I do, I remember, but it was a different situation. I'm not alone anymore. And you are different. I feel and see that you were once a mortal, you were not always an eldritch creature. ~ she told him. ~ Appear in front of me, Darth Vinaze, stop hiding. Do it in your true form, for I see it, honour me with it. I do the same, because I know you see me like who I really am. ~ she said and took on her original form, with the blue, slightly glowing skin, black hair, and many "golden stars" in her hair.


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The Unchained

Engaging:
Geiseric Geiseric

Allies: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze , Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis

Enemies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam



Death to the Holy

"All things end, Crusader... you, me, this planet... all will fade in due time. For some, the end simply comes earlier."

His full attention was on Geiseric, not even bothering with acknowledging the others that had come to put down the Dark Voice. Khamul knew that the powers of Solipsis had grown considerably, and even if these would-be champions were able to put him down, it would only be a small hindrance in the grand scheme of the forces of Darkness. Besides, if the Dark Voice died on this day, then perhaps he was not truly worthy of the title to begin with. Either way, Khamul would have his fill of blood before the day was out.

"Nor do I. A day will come when I die, and I will join the Manda alongside my ancestors. For make no mistake, Jedi..."

The Unchained's body shifted, taking a stance known to practitioners of Juyo. His blade continued to hiss in the air as Khamul held it outward, calling to him to unleash his hatred upon the worm that dared to defy him.

"I AM MAND'ALOR."

With those words, a thunderous crack echoed across the skies as the moon of Ashla cried in agony, pieces of its ancient and holy body torn asunder and launched toward the planet below. Behind his masked visage, a wicked grin produced itself on the Demon Mandalore's face.

"All you hold dear will be ripped away from you. Jedi... and in the end, you will beg me to send you to your precious goddess."

Hatred spewed from each and every word as he spoke, and in the shroud of the Dark Side, Khamul fully enveloped himself in his rage.

"Time to die..."

His jetpack roared to life, launching the Unchained toward his opponent with tremendous speed. Mandalore's Lament began lashing out at the Crusader as Khamul hacked and slashed away mercilessly, hoping to put an end to the dog before he could have the chance to bite. Through the vicious assault, the same four words kept echoing deep within Khamul's mind...

DEATH TO THE HOLY...




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Location: Akar Kesh
ALLIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone Sith on OBJ III
ENEMY: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir


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To Eina's demand, Vinaze obliged. They both shed the trappings of mortality, her the form she presented herself in, he the illusion that guarded him against being seen. In reality, outside on the field of battle he was still shrouded in the darkness. Yet here in the cerebral dreamscape he was free to show himself. From the void opened a hundred eyes of various sizes, shapes, some vaguely humanoid, others undistinguishably alien.

"Is this what you wished to see? Such base ideas of the self from a born spirit. You could be anything you wished, have anything you want. Yet you choose to be seen as Force intended. The Force is meant to serve us. Let it."

Vinaze peered deeply into the thoughts of the other spirit. It was not as easy as doing so to a mortal. Indeed she was born this way, and he had been created. The way of the Sith demanded it be so. The Sith created themselves in the image only they could dream. But the Sith Lord had learned there was more than just himself over which he had the power.


"In foolish Jedi notions of 'death', I have forfeited any claims I may have held, to Darth Solipsis. In reality I am but kingmaker. But in this otherrealm, this beyond... I am King."

The void around them began to fade, conjuring to life the image of the Sanctuary gardens where Eina and Geiseric spent much of their time. It was serene as always. It reflected the girl's very being. That was why she had been mentally imprisoned there before. Now he wondered what she made of it after all this time... all this peace in her life that deserved none.

Eina watched with interest as Vinaze took his original shape. The fact that he chose not the original humanoid but the mighty eldritch creature was very eloquent to the Valkyrja. The man no longer considered himself the mortal he once was. Now he thought of himself as this being, which in many cultures is almost a divine being. Vinaze was not the first, and probably not the last, to imagine himself as a god or such being and Eina met with them.

~ Yes, that was what I wished for and it reveals a lot about you. ~ she replied gently. ~ I am what I want to be and I am happy with my life. But that's not true for you. I have found peace and harmony, but you will never find this. I expected your original mortal form, Darth Vinaze; that you'll choose that, who you once were. You are not satisfied with yourself, you have not found what you are looking for, your soul does not rest. But you won’t find the answers you seek in the Bogan’s embrace. ~

Eina had her people there, the souls she cared for, the souls she protected, the people she healed, and of course her husband. Her life was happy and complete. She didn't want to be more than who she was. Maybe in her saddest days, she just wanted to be a mortal to grow old and die with Gei after a happy and long life. Or to be together forever in any other way; it was her biggest dream. But anyway, she was happy and happy, and she didn't want to change this life.

~ My people and I are famous for our modesty, our devotion. You already live in the Netherworld, so you know. What do you think I should be? I was born of the soul of my parents, but I am not them. I am not my father to destroy souls and one, or my mother, who also tore apart countless souls while looking for a way to save my father. My devotion is to heal and save others, to guard and protect all of the souls. And what do you want? More power? More destruction? What's the point of these? ~ she asked him.

When the man looked into her memories, she let him show him what she probably knew. The Valkyrja closed her eyes for a moment. Continuous demon attacks against the Sanctuary. The city, which is almost constantly under siege, the Valkyrja guards the city, Eina fights as a warlord, always in the front row, as a warrior, a warlord, a sorcerer. She has killed thousands and hundreds of thousands of demons over the centuries, but her soul has always remained clear and pure.

Eina opened her eyes and stepped closer, in her footsteps the garden began to change, beautiful glowing silver, gold, and blue flowers opened up on the ground, on the trees, the place came to life. Demons tried to break in, but they ran away from Eina and Gei's combined power. The stars in the sky became brighter, and the northern light seemed to be even beautiful and more vivid. The struggle, the constant war, was a part of her life, but also peace. The golden mean she found at Gei's side. Before her beloved crusader, she knew only war, and since then she learned peace, light and harmony. It was all thanks to the other half of her soul, the love of her life, Gei.

~ And what are you seeking in your life? What do you expect from it, Lord Vinaze? You have lived so much, yet you're still interested in the mortals' behaviours. Kingmaker, King… these belong to the mortals. It's time to decide if you want to cling to your mortal self or you're ready to leave that life behind forever. ~ now she reached out toward the man's mind as she held out her hand to him, peacefully, without any aggression.

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Allies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka Madison Starr Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Wedge Draav Wedge Draav Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor @Anyone at the Ruined Temple | Team Lightside
Enemies: Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco (engaging) Darth Libertas Darth Libertas (in vicinity) | Team Darkside
Location: Ruined Temple


  • Thurion shatters Xanesh's spear before disengaging temporarily.
  • He pours all his strength into establishing a massive Force Barrier around the Temple Ruins.
  • He calls upon other Jedi through the Force to aid him in strengthening the Barrier.

Thus commenced that most ancient of tests, where one champion is pitted against another in the neverending crucible of war. It had existed far longer than either Sith or Jedi, would no doubt exist long after both orders were long gone; a mere footnote in the overall history of this galaxy. Even this cataclysmic battle would one day fade from memory to the point where only learned scholars and researchers are privy to its occurrence.

The Jedi Master was astounded by the speed at which the elder Sith moved, dodging his opening flurry of attacks with surprising agility belying her years. A sudden jab from her darkshear spear forced Thurion to stop and turn sideways, letting it penetrate through his outermost layer of robes. Using it to his advantage, he spun in place to the point that his robes came off and entangled themselves around the tip of her spear.

He then gripped the temporarily pacified end of the polearm with one hand, relying on his superior physical strength to hold it in place as he raised his lightsaber above his head in order to land a powerful blow and hopefully sever the spear in two.

But then his entire being froze in place, and his eyes turned skywards.


"No..."

One of Tython's moons had fractured into pieces, with several fragments sent hurtling down towards the planet's surface. Ashla, the very namesake of the Light side of the Force, had been rent asunder during the course of the battle. He understood now what Xanesh had meant.

Thurion's gaze fell on the Lady Sith, his expression gradually shifting from that of painful disbelief to that of bitter rage. Rather than use his lightsaber, he instead wrapped his hand around the shaft of the spear, ignoring the pain of doing so. A bright light was emitted from his palm; a light so bright it burned through the darkshear until it was severed in half. He then flung his half towards Xanesh, but only as a distraction. He knew she'd deflect the incoming projectile, but it gave him precious time to call on the Force for a powerful thrust of energy sent her way, capable of leveling entire buildings.

Even should she jump out of the way in time, the mighty Force Push would sow chaos in the Sith ranks as dozens were sent flying, freeing up many Jedi to further push on the Temple Ruins.


"COREN," he roared across the battlefield, seeing him face off with another Sith in the distance. "LOOK TO THE SKIES!"

Through their merge in the Force, some of the Jedi in his vicinity gathered around him, acting as his shield. The Lion King raised both hands to the heavens above, drawing further upon the powers that he'd honed over his lifetime to erect a Force Barrier covering a large part of the surrounding area, protecting those within against the rain of celestial projectiles.

Maintaining such a vast barrier alone was extremely draining, but as more and more of his brothers lent their aid to sustaining the shield the burden was gradually lifted. As additional barriers were established, eventually they would link up to cover more and more of the battlefield.

At this very moment, Thurion could not help wonder whether the name of Heavenshield had been placed upon him all those years ago for this very purpose. To save the birthplace of the Jedi Order from certain destruction.


"Lo, there do I see my father," he found himself reciting the warrior's prayers of his homeworld, unintentionally sent to others through the Force merge. "Lo, there do I see my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers. Lo, there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning!"

Visions of lost family members appeared before him in his strained state. Perhaps it was the delirium of fatigue, or some tear through the Force was playing tricks on him. Perhaps the very gods had sent their spirits to embolden him.

"Lo, they do call to me. They bid me take my place among them, in the Halls of Eternity. Where the brave... may live... forever."
 
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A field on Tython
Tags: Surea Surea Amani Serys Amani Serys

Amani made Kai drop Surea. The boy watched as the Sith started to stir, sighing and thrusting his hands into his pockets.

<I still say we should just kill her. You can figure out what’s wrong with her from an autopsy. She’s obviously a few starships short of a fleet, if you know what I mean, so if we let her wake up she’ll just go nuts on us again.>

Surea couldn't hear his private telepathy with Amani, so he had no fear that she would be provoked by what he was saying.
 
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ALLIES : DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra Annor E-059 Julian Qar Julian Qar Aerys Myrrine Jas Katis Jas Katis Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Nukth Kelga'an Jerec Yularen Roxy Rizzan Roxy Rizzan


1st Armoured-Infantry Division,
3rd Battalion (Bramber)
South of the Plains (Lion insignia)​
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'Hurst Company'

Command-5 tanks Lieutenant Cooper

1 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Dash

2 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Painter

3 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Datum



'Lewes Company'

Command-5 tanks Lieutenant Hall

1 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Fifield

2 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Plowman

3 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Jervis


'Henfield Company'
Captain Base Danyell

1 platoon-60 (x2 APC)
2 platoon-60 (x2APC)
3 platoon-60 (x2APC)
3 platoon-60 (x2APC)

The ticking of the tanks heralded a brief respite from the singing. Bex had allowed it for a moment, a feeling of nostalgia and comradery seeping down the ranks of the task force as they began to edge closer towards the enemy lines. He had called a halt when the transmission had come through to his command vehicle.

<"Marić to Bramber One! Glad to have you back on board.... But it's straight to business this time sadly, but with that being said - the opposition are infantry-heavy, roughly 2-Klicks out. Easy pickings if you can get beyond the incline of the hillocks in front of you. I think incendiaries might do the trick as an opener, if you catch my drift.">

Bex listened intently to the message, smiling a little to himself as he heard the familiar voice of Major Marić speaking down the radio. He shuffled his collar, taking in the moving scenery as the lake glistened. It almost looked serene, beautiful even.

Or maybe he imagined it.


"<Bramber One to Marić, it's our deepest pleasure, sir. We'll get a firing solution ready as soon as we can be sure. We'll tap in and get the necessary intel on enemy positions>."


He turned to Horsham and mouthed "I assume ahead and massed"

Horsham nodded, taking up on his own comms and beginning to detail various elements of the incoming orders to the rest of the companies assembled under the Bramber banner.


"<We'll get a couple of incendiaries off, wake the area up. We'll see you at LZ. Keep a couple for us, sir. Bramber Out>."


He replaced the headset and looked down at the map. It was ideal for his tankers. They were highly proficient, thanks to the Lord Erskine, at the smoothbore sniping techniques. Post Csaus they had drilled and trained to ensure they could get off targets from a further distance than ought to be sensibly attempted.

He picked up the headset again, checking the datasheet next to the set. He picked the setting for Cooper and dialled it in.

"<Cooper. It's the Cap. I want Hurst to register the coordinates I've buzzed through. Load in incendiaries and fire a round. Let's light em up. Fire for effect. Fire. Fire. Fire. Bramber One out.>

Bex replaced the headset once more and sniffed, looking over at his adjutant. A moment passed by and then the familiar clump of ordnance rang through the air, heard still over the whirring of the heavy vehicle he sat inside. He knew the incendiary rounds would launch over their position, clearing the distance with the express intention of penetrating the enemy position.

Or at least terrify them. He knew, however, that not much would scare the Maw. They were zealots. Inhuman.

Bex looked ahead of him via the display. They were approaching the rendezvous point, the growing presence of Imperial forces meant that they were close.


<"Imperial Forces. Lord-Captain Tarring ahead of the Bramber companies. We have arrived.">



Continued the approach the designated LZ. Fired incendiary rounds ahead with the intention of impeding Maw infantry


 

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make your heart proud
SHIELD OF TYTHON
THE SEEING STONE | CIRCLE OF SEERS | SUPPORT
Allies: GA | Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder | Auteme Auteme | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | OPEN -- TAG
Enemies: BOTM | OPEN

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Spinning on her heels, the master cried out, her eyes instinctually probing the sky for where Ashla should have sat. Like the tides that pulled at the planet, the moons had pulled at her for all the years she had spent on Tython, holding the master in steady balance. As Solipsis's spear of darkness struck, Henna's facade cracked with the moon. Tears welled as she watched the sky above fall. Hopelessness caused her shoulders to fall as despair picked at her mind like carrion.

"No..." The whispered word of dissent hung in the air, as if it could shield against the shifting tide.

The falling stars entering the atmosphere left little time to dwell on the repercussions. Golden orbs tracked a stream of orange, it's odor like burning hair. Those eyes widened as she realized its descent placed it on track with the circle- and with prosperity. A battle cry rose up from Henna, her arms slamming forward. They stopped as they reached directly in front of her. A sheen of golden light erupted around the group as the barrier came to life.

Henna reached for the force only to find it vastly transformed. Ashla's warmth, which had always come easy and willing to her aid, was nearly absent. The destruction of the moon had consequences further reaching than just the science of the planet- the nexus of the world had become unbalanced with it's axis, letting Bogan reign.

Passion. Anger. Hate. All necessary.

There is a third path, all but forgotten. A marriage of light and darkness.


Can you abandon the promise of serenity?! Do you still desire peace?!

The memory of the Tythan's words filled her head, wrought with passion. They reached the crescendo with Henna's cries, as she embraced the anger. The golden sheen pulsed and grew, stretching beyond the stone, upward to encompass Prosperity and all those aboard. The shield of the shield crackled, furious sound resonating across the landscape as the scathing fire of Ashla's moon struck. Henna's screech twisted into a snarl of defiance and her feet dug into the planet beneath her, drawing on its strength to bolster the barrier, the righteous anger of Tython and its protector challenging the odds.

The laughter of the ethereal kwa echoed through her mind.

Such is your answer.

The comet crumbled against the power of the force.

Ugh... a little... help... here,

Without hesitation, the shield fell away, though weariness held in the lines of the master's face as she answered the knight's call. Fury and determination provided a wellspring of power for the knight to pull from, combining his strength with that of hers. A slim portion encompassed itself around him in a steady hold against the powers of darkness near him.

"This is not Tython's fate, Dagon. I will shield you, but you must-"

The thought was interrupted as the ground beneath her began to shake. Mountains screamed with protest in a dire warning. In seconds, the thunderous spew of magma began. The mountain beneath them erupted, let loose with the world turned to chaos. More of the deadly fountains joined in the distance to paint the battleground in fire. The lava gathered in rivers, flowing down cliffs with little regard for life or structure. Henna looked on in horror as ash began to fall around her robed form, a plume of smoke painting the seeing stone in shadow.

Tython had unleashed its wrath.

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MEDITATION ACTIVE ON OBJ I // MELD ACTIVE ON OBJECTIVE III
 
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The Monster
Imperial March
Admiral Regent Rausgeber
The NIV Tregessar

Allies: Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock |@ VADM Tarsa Doon |@Balt Vizsla | @Romul Saxon| Vemric Keldra
Enemies of the State: @Maple Harte| @Tu'teggacha| Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick | @Derix Tirall| @Akûz the Ravager| Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Verin Oldo Verin Oldo | Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach | Onrai Onrai
Assorted Scum: Artemis Toth Artemis Toth | Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus | Mith'akis'ormo Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne | Tren Chaar Tren Chaar | Vaux Gred Vaux Gred

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Rausgeber eyed the assembled congregation with an air of dismissiveness. Watching them as they reported back to him. He gave small nods, “Until further notice, we’ll hold this position.” In reality, it was to find them a partner in this operation. With the flickering shut of the communications conference, it was replaced with a display of the battle. And a flurry of IFF transponders, denoting the loyalties and allegiances of all present. It was a menagerie as the Commodore had reported. And the Empire would be foolish to engage without some sort of backing, ala the Omega Crisis of nearly two decades ago. But the question then became, with whom?

Diplomacy had isolated the Empire. It had beef with these supposedly ‘eternal’ people and their Empire. If memory served, Carlyle had even attempted to brutalize its Empress. Repeatedly at that. Before leaving her to be jettisoned aboard a Star Destroyer. That was not a fun time. And yet there were unknowns to be calculated. This… Elysium ‘Empire’? He’d heard rumours of them, from the former First Imperial dominions, of some newcomer. No. Feckless and naive they were. Then there were the knaves of the Galactic Alliance. Pitiful. Enemies. Who had blown off part of his jaw. He felt his skin chafe and sear at the idea. No. No. There had to be alternatives. And there was but one.

Mandalorians. He felt himself sneering at the mention. It made him sick. Savages the lot of them. Mercenaries of no honour, fortitude or code. Other than that ugly armour they prayed for. Heathen scum. He reflexively reached for his respirator, taking a brief series of breathes in, before analyzing. Sweet, sweet oxygen scented with medicinal painkiller filled his ravaged lungs, before he moved the mask back down. There was a slight buzzing though, at his chest. His datapad. He reached into it, and retrieved it. A message. From Doon. Asking how he was. His brow creased, it was hardly the place, nor decorum to ask. Kiss arse. “Fine.” He responded. That was all she deserved. For now.

Still, there was a battle to be fought here today. And each moment of dithering did little more than “Commodore. Spool the KriegsGeist.” The Admiral Regent wheezed, “Lieutenant.” He glared to the comms officer opposite the holographic table who looked startled by the address, “Get me a line to the lead Mandalorian vessel.” His eyes gazed over the battle display, looking at the transponders, identifying their commands, vessels and if applicable commanders. The bloodshot leering eyes settled for a moment on one name. Oldo, Verin.

Carlyle stared at that name and felt his right eye twitch. Dantooine. That fiasco. How that perfidious little shit and his cabal of craven Confederate co-conspirators had jumped him. Voph. Kiff Brayde. Wankers the lot of them. And all, at least in Carlyle’s ironic view, war criminals. Or so this war criminal thought. Carlyle clenched his jaw, as much as he could with the crude cybernetics as he calculated the possibility. Oldo was a common Mandalorian name, wasn’t it? Surely that sneaky little bastard had perished with the fall of the CIS? No? But as he clenched his fist, massaging and digging digits into his palm, his gaze caught something else. “Commodore, is this correct?” Rausgeber snarled, “Why are these vessels-” Task Force Dragoon, why are they out of formation Commodore?!” Carlyle spat, the globs of gooey pus and tissue landed with an audible ‘splat’ on the deck plating.

I-I have no clue sir.” Commodore Reavy stammered, “Your orders were clear milord.” The Commodore bowed his head, “We will-I will,” He swallowed, and took in a deep breathe, “Lieutenant Pierce, please get the Commander on the line.” He then paused, as Carlyle turned his head to leer at the lieutenant, “Now lieutenant.” Reavy barked with a strictness to his tone. Pierce went to work, putting in the appropriate keys, and code clearances.

And keep trying to reach the Mandalorians!” Carlyle sneered, breathes becoming hastier as he felt fire building within, “I want to speak to their commander.” Carlyle snapped, before the lieutenant continued. Commander Crannach appeared before Rausgeber, who held her in a contemptuous gaze, “Commander Crannach, you insolent waste of skin!” The Admiral Regent’s harsh voice held a brutish baritone as he berated the officer, “You absolute, insubordinate wanker! You were given an order!” Rausgeber screamed, voice cracking. A clenched fist reached to his chest, and beat twice against it. As the Admiral Regent gagged up more blood and phlegm, “I will not… I will not! Have your conduct stand! You are dead Commander! There is no…..NO….. ESCAPE!”

Rausgeber reached for the respirator and plied it to his face, taking in several deep breathes before dropping the mask, and letting it hang before him, “
You-!” He jabbed an accusatory finger at her, “You will suffer for this betrayal! For your lack of dignity, conduct and courage!” Carlyle barked, “I will make sure you, your children, and your children's, children's, children, are hunted!” The cybernetic freak sneered, a mixture of blood, pus and saliva now seeping like a grimy, slow moving waterfall out the gaping blaster hole in his cheek.

And exterminated!” He took a sharp inhalation of breathe, recycled air burning against his lungs. “I will skin you alive for this Crannach! I will take your stomach!” He paused, slamming his fist again against his chest. Coughing and spluttering up blood, some of which landed in a spray, on his tunic. Turning the ivory fabric, a rich shade of burgundy, “And I will take your stomach lining!” He doubled over slightly, the anger had gotten to him somewhat. Weakening him at the knees. A palm pressed against the table, trying to keep his form stable, “And let you watch!” Carlyle coughed and gagged some more, “And let you watch!” He tears ran down his face, his complexion was as red as a Sith’s saber, “AND let you watch as a Rancor uses it as a contraceptive aid you feckless invalid!” He slammed a clenched fist against the table, causing a crack. Both Lieutenant Pierce, Commodore and bridge crew watched the display in abject terror. “And these…. THESE COMMANDER…. These are not threats!” Rausgeber proclaimed, slamming his fist once more onto the table, with an audible ‘crack’. “These are very real… And very able… Promises…” The Admiral Regent reached for the respirator, taking another hit.

You… Disgust me Crannach, you garbled mouth, Galidraani inbred!” He then wiped his mouth and chin, blood and saliva streaming from it, and staining his sleeve, "Go-go back to your bloody... tea set and kettle! You unintelligent degenerate!" Carlyle spat, “I will take great glee…” He wagged a warning finger at her, “In watching you fucking…. Die….!”

The Admiral Regent then jabbed a finger at the lieutenant, “Terminate it.” The command was uttered, and Rausgeber disappeared from screen, he reached for his respirator, and stumbled against the table. Some of the display was shattered, distorting the image of the Maw superweapon thanks to the cracked surface. Carlyle stood there, leaning against the table, fists curled against the edge of it, as he tried to calm himself. There would be hell to pay, the Emperor’s consequences be damned. He would find the Galidraani whore, and teach her a new means of suffering. Consequences be damned. "Order Herlock and Doon to commence pursuit on Crannach's vessels. Damage them." Rausgeber snapped, "If Crannach wants to be a hero, then let her perish in the Maw. Order them to damage her vessels. Weaken, her battle group."

Milord,” Carlyle’s eyes shot up to Lieutenant Pierce, “Sir, I’ve managed to make contact with the Mandalorians highest ranked commanding officer. One Grand Admiral Vemric Keldra.” She paused, and eyed the man, as he clenched that mask right up to his mouth, “Shall I put him through, sir?” A nod from Rausgeber saw the Grand Admiral appear before him. Carlyle looked dishevelled, with the blood sprayed across his chest, smearing his sleeves. And of course, the gaping, septic wound which let anyone look inside his mouth to the rows of browned, and rotted teeth.

Grand Admiral,” Rausgeber bowed his head, out of respect. Voice raspy, “I am Admiral Regent… Rausgeber, of the Empire.” No need for furthering his nation's name than that. Other than the pretenders who needed Elysium or Eternal to press their image, “As commander of imperial forces, and given the… Enormity of the threat we face… I am authorised to propose a pact…. of mutual aid on the field of battle.” The paused Rausgeber undertook, punctuated by sharp, raspy breaths which echoed over the comms unit, “My vessel… It holds a device… Which will increase effectiveness of all under its grasp…” He raised a clenched fist, “In return I request two things…” Rausgeber reached for his respirator, “The first….. Is escort vessels for when the time comes to launch our bombers…” He took a sharp inhalation in, “The second… Is for the termination… Of one of my former officers…”

What says you… Admiral?”
 
4th post
OPERATION: SHATTERPOINT
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THE ANNIHILATION OF TYTHON

Objective 1: ATTACK EVERYTHING!!!!


Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

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ANOINTED ACOLYTE OF THE SCAR HOUNDS


Allies (BOTM/NSO):
Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis The Mongrel The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr
Shai Maji Shai Maji Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Darth Saevius Darth Saevius Ronar Ronar

Enemies (NIO/Enclave/NJO): Roxy Rizzan Roxy Rizzan Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor
Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Aerys Myrrine Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Jas Katis Jas Katis Julian Qar Julian Qar Annor E-059
Saul Vandron Saul Vandron Asmus Omaand Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Kal Kal Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun Rex Valhoun


Loadout
Protection/Equipment
Beskar Brodie-Helm

Free-State Surplus Gas-Mask
2nd-Gen Galidraani SF Combat Webbing
Free-State Surplus Flak Jacket

Hipflask (Mineheel Moonshine)

Weaponry/Explosives

SA-35 Heavy Blaster Rifle

AP-25i "SIMP" Particle-Beam Blaster Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
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Old Fairbairn Vibrodagger
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X3 Incendiary Grenades

X2 Flashbangs
X3 Tetan Mastiffs
X5 Repurposed Valdr Skær-Pattern Dual-Role Droids

Scar Hound Array
X1 Scavenged Goliath Main Battle Tank
X50 SHT-66 "Malm-hrið" Heavy Battle Droids

X100 SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bikes
X75 Scavenged XT-62 "Cataphract" Main Battle Tanks
X20 Branchlurkers
X300 Moon Children


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NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART SIX
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The Rowan Grove Plateau, Mt. Sintarin,
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autum of 876 ABY)


'I am afraid I have had little chance to learn in the days before battle,'

The journey down towards the (still half-flooded) northern valley boundaries had been quite uneventful on the Bloodhound's part, as none of the opposing rocket-barrages or forward surges were close enough to concern the Woad and his initiate. And though not much had been said until they'd reached the bottom, this would soon change with Ronar's candour in admitting what little he'd known of the Scar Hounds' hidden intricacies, an honesty the Woad found himself quite pleased by, one of which Thomas assumed would be nigh on impossible to find among the ranks of their ever-cunning foes. The matter-of-fact way in which Ronar admitted his lack of research or investigation into the Scar Hounds as a warfighting entity, the way it implied a need to learn more, everything about this individual felt familiar to him, everything about the new initiate to the Tri-Lunar clique seemed to belong -though there was more to this individual yet to show.

Something akin in culture to that which Barran felt he could partially remember, almost like there could've been common-ground between Ronar's culture and the one Thomas had forgotten in death, for both cultures had seemingly been responsible for guiding the two warriors on their first steps to Galactic prominence, propelling them from the springboards of their own sensibilities to become champions in their own right.

'What does it mean to be a Scar Hound?'

A pertinent question, and one the Bloodhound had been expecting at some point on their journey downhill, but when the heavy speeder-bikes drew to a humming halt, the concept of a simple answer became quite alien all of a sudden, though it wouldn't deter one such as Barran from attempting to answer for the initiate's sake. With a simple glance over his shoulder as he dismounted, Thomas answered,'To me? Acceptance for the sorry mess I was when the Mongrel found me on Durace.... I had just struggled my way out of the cold, hard ground, coughing and spluttering my way towards the light of a second life. Resurrected on a dead planet with no memory of who, what or where I was - and the Scar Hounds accepted me as I was.', looking on the initiate through kind, understanding eyes as he made an honest admission of his own.

'Acceptance of that, still covered in blood, muck, dust an' all sorts.... That, among other things, is exactly what I believe it means to be a Scar Hound. My brothers accept warriors, and they somehow saw one in me.'

Recalling the fateful night of his resurrection with a shudder, Barran couldn't help but marvel at how far he had come, and though he was conditioning himself against such slave-driven enthrallment to time as a concept, the Bloodhound couldn't help but appreciate how far this quick progression had propelled him either. An uncanny feeling, and one that somehow had him able to see how far he'd come, like he'd been looking back on the longest of paths to make it so far, seeing past and present become one in an instant like they were one and the same thing - history in action.

<"Hâsk jiaasen!!!">

It is time.... Rebirth, I hope you are watching.

'We hide the speeder-bikes here, Ronar.'
The blood of their enemies was already being shed, the blood of their brothers was already being spilled by their foes in turn, making sacrifices of their own in the ultimate battle of battles, one true fight to outshine them all. But of that from their own hands in devoted, unified sacrifice to War, Death, and Rebirth, none by that phase of the battle, none until the signal went out over all the Mawite channels. But when the words were heard clearer than a ringing chime, with each syllable searing into his eardrums like each were a hot brand of their own, Barran knew that the time for true sacrifice had come; whether his darling Rebirth would accept the Bloodhound, the Mongrel, or anyone else for that matter, would be left purely in the hands of the Shriven's darling and those of her two sisters. As soon as the bikes had been hidden, the Woad would lead his new acquaintance to a small, half-flooded clearing surrounded by cherry-blossoms, oak and young redwood, drawing his Fairbairn and silently bidding the young warrior follow suit before looking to the stormy skies above with a smirk on his face.
'You know the Rune, lad. You know what to do.'
Bearing witness as the young leader-in-the-making drew blood from the palm of his hand a smeared the rune on his cuirass, the Bloodhound's blade was shying off from his own; however, when the blade tilted towards his face, more-specifically towards the right eye, Barran knew exactly what the Three Avatars were asking of him. Then, with a satisfied smirk on his face, Thomas looked to the skies once more and confidently drawled,'If I cannot find a way - I will make one.', before sending the Fairbairn Vibrodagger singing into the soft-tissue of the right eye-ball, bouncing it off the retinal wall at the back of the eye-socket with an agonizing white flash and sliding it out again immediately. Snarling in the process of recoiling from the pain, the Bloodhound then daubed his bleeding wound for his paint, to smear the rune for himself, to offer his soul in the ultimate sacrifice to the gods of War, Death and Rebirth as one of many.

'Ronar, look at me!'

His index would draw his left eyelid down, letting the pale greyish-blue of his iris stare complete conviction into the stare of his initiate, the Woad started,'I am Her left eye.', pausing for effect, and to point to the bloody mess that was once his right eye, smirking once more as he let Ronar take it all in. Looking deep into the gaze of the young warrior, the Bloodhound's gaze turned to a grimace of determination as he continued,'She is my right.', in the moments before he finally drew his Romphaia for battle.

'The one who resurrected me - guides my soul! The one who resurrected me - decides our fate today!.... Lets go!'

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NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART SEVEN
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March of Akar Kesh, South of Journey's End,
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876 ABY)


Thats more like it, Ghoul. Don't go letting Nail outdo your efforts.

Should be challenging each other - every step of the way.

Fire orders had been issued since their successful attempt to widen and open their offensive line, and though a few more Cataphracts had suffered Hellion's wrath in the next barrage, further ground was being gained safely, and the base of the first mountains south of their approach were drawing ever closer with every waking second. This was a great relief to Dreamer in particular, as young Ghoul was making a pointed two-layered assault with technicals and heavy speeders screening the approach roughly fifty metres ahead of the main armoured push, something that may have been smarter than they had considered at the time, as it may have kept the lighter-armoured elements from idling in particular spots which were considered dangerously isolated - perhaps even as far back as the moments following the first artillery barrage.

'How to.... How to.... I know there's a method in this, hiding from me.... How to....'

But Rook's mind was on the ultimate prize, the Imperials bearing northbound from the lands beyond the Akar Kesh, and thinking on the representatives of House Io fighting their Warlord's own contingent, two contrasting plans but plans of which the uncharacteristically-quieter of the two wished to exploit in his own way.

'Damnit, Ghoul's ahead of the curve on this one.... We need to climb!'

Dreamer's gaze drifted away from the happenings in the west, rounding on Ghoul to find his eyes glued to the holographic plinth as he responded,'Fair plan, but there's more to what you're scheming here.', growing curious as Rook continued to stare into the blips on the map. However, when Rook stood up, Dreamer would be directed to see his plan from a closer angle, with hand still dripping blood from his ritualistic cut as he stepped aside. Datapad orders had been sent to all the relevant units in the east, and it looked like they were climbing, spilling out over the mountains to the north of Akar Kesh with the intent to bait elements from House Io's right flank away, clearly attempting to impede them from their attempt to overpower the main force of Scar Hounds - even if it only thinned the opposing force's right flank by a small fraction in the process.

This was a risk that Rook was clearly willing to take though, and in seeing how fast they were moving in a south-westerly curve, Dreamer knew better than to question it further, especially if he could see almost every part of the manoeuvre mapped out for the sake of simplifying Rook's wordless explanation. But something else happened that would change the plan for everyone on the field that day, as it looked to Barran's closest friends that it was initially an aimless orbital bombardment, but in stepping out from his seat to open the rear-viewport, Dreamer saw that it wasn't actually high-powered orbital firepower. Completely bemused and utterly awestruck at the same time, the Tri-Lunars' best strategist exclaimed,'Looks like damn MOON ROCKS, brother! I guess our Dark Lord is finding some success atop the Akar Kesh, slowly but surely, but this is how you know he's doing something right!', taking off his war-mask as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

Impacts all over the Temple Valley and beyond, like the skies had decided on punishing the puny mortals for making a mess of their beloved world, almost as if nature was answering back for every cratering pockmark the mortals were leaving across the ground. Their Cataphract tank, as reliable as XT-62s were always known to be, would still shake, reel and vibrate from the pressure of each impact of burning rock on the muddy ground beneath the rolling treads. What they hadn't understood amongst it all however, was the fact that much more was contributing to the planet's intensified state of turbulence, with volcanos and force-storms erupting all around, every part like the burning skies above. To all the planet's defenders, this would have appeared as a frightening portent of their impending doom, a clear and present sign that their very very worst fears were being actualised before their very eyes; but to those with the bloody runes on their breastplates, the world around them was suffering at the hands of those with rightful vengeance to exact upon the world and those defending it.

The purest sign of ultimate glory, the most wondrous of rewards for their unified statement of sacrifice, a sign from the gods.

'Brother, if this is doing it right- the successful outcome's going to be quite the wild thrill indeed.... Listen out for this though!'

<"All marked units, fire away at whatever you can! Capitalise on the mayhem, brothers!">

Laughter would ring out from all within earshot of it, even from the top-gunner who had no choice but to flinch and recoil through everything that nearly took his head off, an encouraging sound that was occasionally punctured by the auditory hellishness outside; and when the first shots rang out in staggered succession, the laughter only grew louder among those of the eastern pincer's makeshift ACV, as they were also sticking with their intent to evade and bait the Mongrel's opposition at the time. A deft manoeuvre in the most destructive of environments, a move that Dreamer considered to be a leaf from their Warlord's very own playbook, though one that both knew to be a kindly homage to the one who originally inspired them to fight with as much cunning as they would with brute strength, to treat conventional warfare with an unconventional trickster's disdain like the Mongrel was always known to do.

'WAR, DEATH, REBIRTH!!!! WE'VE SEEN ALL THREE WITH OUR VERY OWN EYES, BROTHER!!!! NEVER FORGET!!!!..... NEVER - FORGET!!!! WE SEE THE GODS IN EVERYTHING THAT WE DO!!!!'

 
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Enemies: Iris Arani
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Even as Iris spoke thunder crackled and roared in the skies above and the sound of battle rumbled in the distance. From up here she could see the fires of war at the downed destroyer and beneath the commanding presence of the Prosperity. Her golden orbs flicked to Iris and then up to the sky as she felt a chill run down her spine. Chunks of moon hurtled towards Tython with trails of fire. The mountain rumbled, cracks forming. Scalding gas hissed from the cracks in the mountain pass in long whistling spurts.

"Tython herself seems to disagree with you, Jedi." She spat, a thick glob of flem that hissed as it landed around the edges of one of the mountain's new cracks. Another spurt of gas obscured Iris from view. When the mountain paused to take another breath Tempest hurtled at the Padaawan, blades flashing, teeth clenched in a vicious snarl. The lightsabers came for her chest. There was no hesitation. Even as the sky fell and the mountain began to shake itself into ruin Tempest allowed her feelings to flow freely into her movements.

One way or another, this would be their last duel.
 
The world had gone to hell, his allies had turned to stone, and he was fighting some twisted version of his wife.

Citizen Energy Sword and Lightsaber clashed, Ted's training at the hands of Model 1's starting to show.

Much of it was on the defensive, however. Ted was wounded, and Force Users were normally faster than others. It wasn't long before a seemingly endless wave of blue blades came at him from all directions...

He was not entirely defenseless, however...

He had an ace in the hole (Mine's Harvey), however.

House Io was developing crazy ass tech all the time. Ted had recently made the decision to acquire a special implant to greatly increase his reflexes for a short period of time. But even that was barely keeping him in the fight...and as well as he had done in the sword fighting training, he could not do this for long. This strange vision of his wife was going to kill him... evidently House Io wasn't any more popular wherever she had come from than they were here...

He barely parried an overhead spin slash. The alternate Danielle was disciplined and experienced. His version had been a secretary.

The next few slashes damn near overpowered him, the tip grazing his right arm painfully.

Intense pain spread throughout it as his arm gave out. The armor had taken the worst of it, but that was just a grazing tip.

Ted barely managed to save himself from the Force Pull, batting aside the impalement attempt as he was pulled in range, and backhanding her away, where she tumbled to the ground.

Ted could barely hold his sword. The implant would shut down soon.

Danielle rose.

"House Io are nothing but insane terrorists manipulating the vulnerable into working for them. Their members won't or can't understand how complex the will of the Force is, how complex the mechanisms of Galactic Politics really are." she said flatly. "I have seen the cruelties they inflict on too many Jedi in their clutches just to prove a point."

"An excuse offered by Jedi since the dawn of Time..." Ted snarled, stumbling back and angling his Energy Sword at her. "For every single one of their own failings and incompetent decisions. They made every excuse they could to avoid teaming up with the Sith. They ended up being too weak to stop the Bryn'adul. The problem wasn't solved by the Jedi. Or Democracy. It was solved by people willing and able to do the unthinkable in order to win."

"Is that all that is supposed to matter? Winning?"

"Against such an enemy? Always. In order to win, you have to be able to adapt, and in order to adapt, you have to be able to laugh away all the restraints..." Ted hissed (I know. Catch.: Minus 22 XP). "That's one among many things the Jedi Order could never appreciate. You can't win wars cleanly, humanely, or without deception. They were all so selfish, focusing on the Sith, while the Lobsters burned world after world, including ours. And what did you do? You went and signed up with the very sacks of garbage who enabled them."

"The Bryn'adul are gone Ted. The Sith are still here. Their forces are all around us, twisting the very fabric of reality, trying to rewrite it as they see fit. Can you really stand there, and tell me they didn't end up being the bigger threat, like the Jedi claimed they would?" Danielle asked, the pair circling each other in the chaotic battlefield. "House Io killed all those Jedi, all those Soldiers who dared to dream of a future free of the Sith, saying we had to unite with them to prevent the Destruction of the Galaxy, only to be forced to arrive at the same conclusion the rest of us reached first. All of House Io's justifications have completely and utterly collapsed in the face of all we see before us, but like so many who joined with them, you're too blinded by hatred and resentment to see that simple fact."

"The Brotherhood would never have gotten this powerful if the major powers hadn't been so corrupt and indecisive, and if the Order hadn't enabled them to be corrupt and indecisive." Ted argued, looking for a way to strike, and unable to find it. He felt the prickling of the back of his neck, whispering his mortality. "And even if you're correct about our justifications having collapsed, which you are not, it still wouldn't change the fact that the Jedi Order did everything it could to make this moment an inevitability. They were so obsessed with crushing a crumbling empire they ignored the Maw until it was too late. They punished, ignored, and refused to take seriously any who thought different! When we decided to hold you bastards accountable for it when no one else on your side would, we got called terrorists! Traitors! The Jedi Order absolutely deserves what is being inflicted on them today!" Ted snarled. "They earned this pain. They earned this suffering. And the only reason we do not stand back and let the Maw deliver the comeuppance the Jedi have coming is because too many other worlds would suffer in the process if the Maw triumphs today."

"Ted, Laertia Io is evil!" Danielle shouted.

"From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!" Ted shouted back.

"Well then you are lost!" Danielle screamed over the chaos.

The pair rushed each other.

All around him, his countrymen died in the Dozens from the renewed vigor of the Maw's desperate assault. But the Nuetralizers had been built to fight and kill enemies many times larger and stronger, and often faster. The Maw had merely adopted the slaughter. The Nuetralizers had been born into it. Molded by it. Along with all those other endlessly memed Tom Hardy quotes.

The Soldier Droids, born ready to die, attacked the surviving worm monsters and remaining war mounts with renewed, Organic like Fanaticism. Their blasters and laser cannon bolts lanced through the air, House Io Citizen-Soldiers, many survivors of what the Maw had done to their worlds, possessing Sith Like hatred towards the followers of the hidden gospel, going out of their way to make the final moments of their enemies as hidiously painful as possible, driven to a murderous, psychotic frenzy that gave even the occasional Nuetralizer pause as the Citizens waded into the thickest combat, slashing, hacking, stabbing, Yeeting, shooting their way through entire squads of Mawites, Model 2's sticking to their arranged columns as they butchered the followers of the three Avatars, their mounted cryogenic rotary blasters freezing body parts solid in a few shots before shattering.

The Model 2's were bigger, and slower, but even as hail storms of blasters and other weapons rained down, their infamously tough chassis, built to battle Juggernaut Bryn'adul, only got mildly dented. You really had to work at destroying them, which is why, even now, the most surefire method of killing a mechanical Nuetralizer is with a head shot... anything else left that possibility that a supposedly dead Nuetralizer would "rise" from where they fell, which happened many times in this battle, and kill a few dozen more before being put down for good.

And then the meteors started to hit, killing a few dozen at a time, it spoke much of how determined House Io was to fight the Maw, that they continued fighting as savagely as they would if there were no meteors, charging into the largest groups of on rushing Mawites to blunt their advance any way they could. With blasters. With bombs. With Knives and sprayer type weapons, with their bare hands if nothing else was handy, even as the meteors rained down and destroyed whole swaths of land scape. Parts smashed into the Battle Cruiser, taking out a few bits of its incredibly tough ship armor, and destroying a few weapon arrays, but it just would not die.

Only fifteen Energy Torpedo Arrays, all aimed at the Star Destroyers main guns now, along with it's main electromagnetic cannons, and fired at those guns right at it

The rest of those weapons, with the single exception of a dozen Turbolaser grade pulse cannons now taking aim at the Tho-Yor itself, directed their weapons upward, and everything on it opened fire, targeting both the largest and medium sized chunks as priority while the Seismic Tank took heavy damage from both a meteor, and a more than glancing shot from one of the destroyers guns which blasted a quarter of the top off, causing terrible fires to erupt across it. But it was still going, just at a pure crawl now.

Nuetralizer TIE'S began to swarm the Tho-Yor, their Droid Brains having made note of how the destroyer had targeted the Tank, and realized just how important the Tho-Yor actually was. They came at it in swarms, the war machines of Laertia Io screaming towards Akar Kesh to bombard the Tho Yor with laser cannon fire even as the Battle Cruiser fired upon it as well as the sky.

The bigger chunks were blasted apart by hailstorms of Energy Torpedo fire, Pulse Cannon bolts, Solar Ionization Cannons, and point defenses targeting smaller meteors. This had the benefit of sparing large parts of the battlefield and even the temple ruins, from getting completely decimated. They couldn't get all of them. Large chunks still hit the planet, doing terrible damage, but nowhere near the damage that would have occured to allied Forces had those really large chunks gotten a chance to impact, though plenty of meteors too small to target still hit and killed plenty on both sides.

Ted and Danielle's blades spat and hissed against each other, Ted doing all he could but he had been just too badly injured from their first exchange, and his injuries caught up when she lopped off his sword hand, which went flying away into the dirt and mud with his sword, vanishing from sight.

Ted fell to the ground, screaming in agony, clutching his burned stump. Danielle hovered over him, pointing her blade at him.

"It did not have to be this way, Husband. This path, is of your own choosing (YOUR SON HAS RETURNED! I BRING THE DESTRUCTION OF OLYMPUS!: 700 XP)." Danielle stated, raising the blade.

Ted braced himself. All this, all this toughing it out, living with insanity. Just to get murdered by an alternate version of his wife.

"May the Order never bring peace to the Galaxy..." he spat bitterly. "May they be dragged into these nightmares they enable repeatedly, until the Heat Death of the Universe."

Danielle looked at him in sorrow, and was about to bring the blade down when white armorweave covered hands reached out from behind and brutally snapped her neck.

Ted went pale as the dead alternate version of his wife fell next to him. He looked up in shock.

It was Darth Xiphos. In a white Brain Demon catsuit. The reality tears were getting worse.

This Xiphos lacked scars, and her skin was a creamy color. But her eyes had the rotting yellow of the most powerful Brain Demon Cultists, and her hair, jet black, flowed freely, long and straight, down to the base of her spine.

"Why Teddy, we really must stop meeting like this!" Xiphos called out jovially, with a flamboyant gesture as she pulled the badly wounded man to his feet. The Xiphos he knew was less expressive unless there was a purpose to calling attention to herself. The energy this version had to her almost reminded him of that psycho The Amalgam.

"I mean, people are going to start talking if I constantly bail you out! They might think we're an item or something..." Xiphos joked as she examined his wounds. "Oh, my, this is just awful, this won't do at all..."

Xiphos went over to the body of the dead Danielle and severed a hand with a fiery red cross guard Lightsaber. The same hand he had lost.

"This is going to hurt...like how they botched the ending of Season Eight..." Xiphos pondered thoughtfully before shaking her head.

"I still don't get why she torched the whole city with that dragon. Complete waste of character arc..."

"Umm... Matriarch?" Ted hissed, trying to battle the physical and emotional shock he was going through, holding up his stump.

"Oh! Right! Silly me! I'm sorry if I seem a little scatter brained, I was up all night torturing Jedi Padawans into insanity. Little bastards are surprisingly tenacious until you start using the Sith Poison..." Alternate Xiphos remarked casually, hissing out a dark spell that fused the severed hand with heat and electricity to a screaming Ted's arm stump.

"I know it hurts citizen, but grin! Grin at the pain! It means you're alive!" Alternate Xiphos remarked joyously as she lifted up a piece of shrapnel and flung it into the brain of a Mawite who had drawn a bead on her with a Disruptor, the level of Pure WTF climbing so damned high at the moment the meter for registering said WTF simply broke due to overload.

The severed hand of the dead alternate version of his wife was now joined to him. The pain was there, but suppressed by Sith Magic to allow him to function. He looked at it and realized he was going to be in therapy with one of those Chaplains for a long ass time if he survived this.

"Please tell me you're not from a reality where House Io is helping The Maw..." Ted replied.

Alternate Xiphos cackled psychotically.

"Oh, trust me, Ted..." she chuckled wiping tears of amusement from her eyes as meteors continued to fall all around them. "There is no reality where I help them. None. I've looked..."

Ted staggered over to a fallen Battle Scout Rifle loaded with explosive ammo. Only three shots.

"Then I guess I'm under no obligation to shoot you for high treason." he remarked.

Alternate Xiphos cackled insanely again. "Awww I just love my citizens! Always ready for brutal violence even against the Leadership!" she gushed, even as she Force Choked an errant Mawite Sith.

"Lead the way, Lady Xiphos." Ted requested.

"Oh, dear, I'm still using that name in this reality, right? Teddy, Sweetness, my name is The Parliament where I am from..." The Parliament corrected jovially before heading towards the area where The Collage, The Conjoined and the Model 1's had been turned to Stone, Ted following.

"Rise and darken, my fellow Witches. Rise and darken..." The Parliament hissed, then uttering strange Sith Spells which Made Ted's ears feel pain for some reason that forcibly undid the effects of the reality warp on them, returning them to flesh. The Parliament squeed in delight when the Model 1 units first spotted her.

"Mom? You...look different." one of them noted, disquieted.

"Better, I hope! I was sooooo doom and gloom before this. And then I found out who Syd Celsius really was at Csilla..." The Parliament trailed, hugging the first Model 1 that had talked, not even flinching as a small Meteor smashed into the ground behind her, though everyone else around her flinched. "I really do owe Starlin Rand Starlin Rand a lot for telling me the truth at that moment. It made me finally realize The Cult was my destiny, and always had been."

"Um, Ted, who is this?" The Collage asked, feeling the hidiously powerful darkness and insanity within the Parliament's enchanted flesh.

"The Parliament..." Ted answered flatly.

"I'm confused." another Model 1 admitted. "But hey, what Son can pass up the chance to fight alongside a totally evil version of his Mother and use chainsaws and chit?"

"See? That's exactly what I always say!" The Parliament exclaimed happily, positively bleeding exuberance.

That was when the Lava erupted, deadly streams indiscriminate in who they killed. But The Rhand Class was having none of it, it's Multiple A.I systems quickly working out a partial solution to the extreme problem to buy time. As the lava channels from the erupting mountains flowed towards the main field of battle, threatening even the swamps, the crew diverted more of the Pulse Cannon fire from the sky on the A.I. orders and temple, letting loose a stream of focused barrages at the paths most likely for the lava to flow easiest and engulf everyone. They created deep impacts, hopefully allowing the lava to be diverted away in large amounts in this one local area, though it would not stop the horrors occurring because of the lava flow in the Battlefield...as powerful as the Rhand Class was, as devastating as it's Weaponry was, even it could only do so much, Explosive mini drones continued to be released from it's bays occasionally more focused on Targeting the remaining war mounts. But House Io's collective savagery seemed to only intensify.

"We have a Nuclear Weapon we need to reach. I think we need to use it on the Tho Yor..." The Collage explained.

"Well, what are we waiting for, Silly! Off we go!" The Parliament gushed, flesh shuddering everywhere a moment as she led the charge into the fray of a meteor devastated, lava ridden battle as her makeshift team followed.

The Mongrel The Mongrel

Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis

Henna Ashina Henna Ashina
 

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Location: Akar Kesh
Equipment: In Sig
ALLIES: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Battle Meditators / Jedi on OBJ III
ENEMIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze


kP1KTsJ.png

It took all of the crusader's will to remain in place. Darth Solipsis had committed the highest sacrilege. Even Lord Hoth and the Army of Light had not faced such heathens, such depraved Sith. Those were simpler times. Now the eternal conflict had truly boiled over. Though it was a superweapon that destroyed Csilla, Geiseric wondered if The Dark Lord had eclipsed even that. It was the power of one man that threatened now to tear Tython apart.

The furious assault of Mandalore's Lament did not break his shielded stance. It was raw, hateful, wild. Those attacks battered the stoic, unmoving bulwark as they had last time Geiseric and Khamul had fought. But he did not break.

Geiseric had known few Mandalorians in his life, but he had always welcomed them with open arms as brothers of Ession. Two peoples ground under the jackboots of the Sith Empire. The New Sith Order reforged at Thule and Csilla was not the House of Zambrano, but something more liberal and unrestrained, entirely uncivilized. Even still it made no sense that so many of the Mando'ade would submit themselves to that which should have been their mortal enemy.

Yet in that moment Geiseric began to understand his foe. The light that kept its gaze upon him throughout every battle of every campaign had faded. The darkness had encroached beyond the gates. The Sith were winning. As the Force shifted around them, uneven and off kilter, he heard it. In the back of his mind, pulling on him harder and harder until finally he broke, was a voice.

Will you let this man hurt you? As he has hurt this world, and countless before it? Will you let this man hurt your wife?

Of course not...

But there is only one way to solve this, Geiseric. Deep down you feel it. You know it. You've known it before. Remember the feeling when you saw the fires burning on Ession? You remember rage, do you remember catharsis?

Where is Ashla in this time of need? Falling from heaven?

And where will you be when this is over? The only way to stop this man from hurting you is to hurt him first. You are the vanguard. You know this is what Lord Grayson would expect of you.

How else will you control the spread of the infernal Bogan, if you cannot act first? If you cannot hurt it?


He understood. There was only darkness around him. All he had ever wanted to be in the service of Ashla was her light in the darkness. But he was not a bulb, static and relying on the external. Rather he was a fire that raged hotter and swelled brighter of its own power with every strike of the darksaber he blocked. The deeper into the darkness he delved, the brighter he shone.

Geiseric stepped deftly back and deactivated his shield. Outstretching his arm he called the power of the Force around him to his fingertips, no regard for whether it was energy of the Bogan or Ashla. As the thunder cracked in the ashen skies above them, lightning of gold arched from Geiseric's hand towards Khamul.


"I do not fear death! I do not fear the Dark Side!"
 
AhKkZ0ptBTyC0yi8tL-HzMADOgPJAydNCtQmC29ct_EKVyruzJl0okM1YeATK0-on6r7Nzb5EhZoR01A7s0Wa0dN-aByH99G-5iDG8wu_MzalPkLNi_JAHMliKJAw8Bs2GRgK0sf

Location: Master’s Retreat
Objective: 1
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Valery Noble Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble

Kyrel readied his blade against Valery as soon as she jumped through the gap he was all but ready to engage her. Just as he was about to raise his blade, he saw her move and with the Force caused the resulting fire from the debris of Ashla to wrap around him. Kyrel momentarily wasn’t bothered, his eyes honing in on her, the flames only proceeded to get more intense around the undead corpse. His gaze fixated he watched her move with her saberstaff, the mixture of the intense heat of both blade and flame first made the armor crackle in sparks.

By the time her second blade had landed the armor was ripped open. The flames only continued to engulf him, and before the Jedi Master was an angry monster surrounded by flame. Next to the ionized smell of the sabers clashing was the stench of dead flesh burning, assaulting her nostrils immediately. He stepped forward slowly, mix of robe and armor, even dead flesh had started to slowly fall away. The flames grew more powerful, more hot as even in some parts of the armor holes, one could see the dead muscle threatening to go near the bone.

Just as the dead man was to make his next move, the ground rumbled and soon the tops of mountains blew open. The force so strong Kyrel had to use the Force to maintain the balance there were, while both Hand and GA soldier started to tumble away from the now ruined landing pad. For the moment his gaze was distracted away from her, taking in the sight of apocalyptic proportions. Ash clouds shot through the sky, while magma started rain down the mountain side. All of it was a terrifying and yet beautiful sight as it reminded him of Mustafar.

“You won’t kill me today…. Not when it’s all so close… Soon to be within my grasp!” He exclaimed in an angry growl, even as bits and pieces of him were falling, the angry scowl of the death mask remained. Even as he burned he roared with fury as he directed his blade in power strikes. His heavy momentum trying to push her back towards the gap’s edge in hopes of her falling. The flames only continued to burn just as brighter as if he used it to fuel him, even as he started to be worn down to his rotten core.
 

Vesta

Guest
V



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LocationAkar Kesh, Tython
EnemiesTython Defense | Galactic Alliance - Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Silver Jedi Order | New Imperial Order | Mandalorian Enclave | Eternal Empire
AlliesBrotherhood of the Maw | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk , Darth Daiara Darth Daiara
EquipmentLightsaber & The Hunger
hoTtlou.png


There were many ways to approach a game of dejarik, most of which relied on leading the opponent into a corner that would push them into making a mistake that could cost them the game. She liked to liken herself, and the rest of those present on Tython, as pieces on the board of dejarik, mere objects of little consequence except for what they could contribute to the victory over her enemy; the only problem, here, was that she seemed to be playing against herself. The Brotherhood's enemies put their best 'pieces' at play against what they perceived to be the most important in the Maw's repertoire, the self-indulgent ones that always seemed to be in the spotlight, while they ignored the most dangerous among them.

She smirked as Allyson Locke Allyson Locke rambled on about the boy that Darth Daiara Darth Daiara had drawn into her corner, even as the planet's moon, Ashla, shed a metaphorical tear that dropped down onto the wretched world below. There was meaning in this display, the intentions of its fall as engineered by Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis aside, and it brought warmth to her frigid heart in ways that others had tried and failed. Part of her had hoped Rurik Fel Rurik Fel would have deciphered the meaning behind her threat on Nirauan, that someone would have shown themselves competent to catch her in the act before it was far too late - and here was some has-been double agent playing the part of thorn in her side out of sheer coincidence.

'No,' she thought
, Allyson's arrows forming between her fingers as she drew back the string on her bow, as she began to channel the force through her hand and into the spear she held in it.


"Hatred."
The word left her lips as the arrows flew towards her, not loudly in some self-important way - she didn't care if the woman caught on to what the Sith had latched onto. The world around the Sith distorted as the ground beneath her cracked, heaved, and groaned through means that were not her own; but she didn't care. This was the singular moment she craved to see in the people that rallied under the beacon of light, the ones that based their superiority in the so-called morality of their ways of life, whether it was the Imperials or the Jedi, the dark or the light, all of them were guilty in her eyes - and this was the same desperation she'd felt in the moment she fell.

She could see it in her eyes, a Jedi declaring her desire to murder her over some stupid boy.

Color drained from the grass under her feet, from the trees even as they fell to the ground, and the very warmth, the movement of the air, disappeared as her smirk grew into a wide grin, a smile. The arrows of light would have found their mark if she'd tried to bat them away as she had the first, but the spear wasn't a tool made to compensate for what she was incapable of doing on her own, like the Faithless before it; the Hunger was far more than that. An extension of herself, a real piece of her in every way, it only amplified the power that she was already so well-versed in - the power that had become her identity. Streams of phantom white light, like rivers of mist, or fog, pulled in from sources of light and life around her.

From the woman's arrows as they fell down towards her.

Bark curled and crumbled from trees, grass withered and tore apart like paper, and the ground cracked and dried with increasing intensity the closer it was to her as the force drained in to her. It was a power she'd reserved for Tython, one she had showcased to her cousin, Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex in her gambit to keep him from interfering with her plans here. The Hunger had been awakened in her on Rhand and it had only deepened since then, an urge to feed that she had restrained herself from giving into until just the right moment. That moment still hadn't come, but, then, she was starving.

"You came all this way just for one soul?" She asked, feigning incredulity. The line of thinking, that single-minded desire, wasn't foreign to her and in fact had been one she shared until more recently in a manner of speaking. "Didn't you learn anything in your trials as a padawan, Jedi? Your attachments will lead you to darkness." Mori sneered as she started to put distance between the two of them, to lead her up towards the peak, putting on the act of a craven woman on the defense despite all signs that should have pointed towards anything but. "You of all people should know, though."

"The boy is dead." She lied
with a wolfish grin, just as easily as she breathed.


"I'll be sure to bury your corpse with him, right at the top of this mountain, with the knife he tried to put in my back."
 
Buskayu'agr cuyir a sribitadir


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FETH T Y T H O N




Maybe some of her Vode were here for that. And perhaps some of them were simply here to do battle with Sith. She sympathized more with the latter than the former. She still carried the burns from when her planet had been ashed. Honestly, it was an all too familiar type of war in this galaxy. Planetary annihilation. The complete destruction of not only one's enemy, but their entire way of life. Everything that a people called their own, and most times their proof of existence throughout the passage of time. Her world had been spared what threatened Tython now, but others hadn't. Worlds like Csilla had been turned into rubble; the planets lifeforce simply fading to nothing once exposed to the empty vastness of space.



She didn't give a Feth about any of that. She was here to bring Shai Maji Shai Maji back home or kill her. To that end, she sat in the dropship, a few vode over from Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla . Her foot bouncing on the metallic grate incessantly as they neared the planet. Ignoring the small talk, if any that was audible in the dropship. The Rekr Beskargam that adorned her form was used for this engagement, simple but solid. While she could've used her own; she had promised herself not to wear it again; only due to the fact most of it was hand selected, and comprised by the very one she was here for.



If she was back, or dead, she would don her armor again. Until then, it was insulting. Only a few steps after departing the dropship she slowed, deviating from the battle lines to look skywards, observing the cataclysm of figure, and the imposing Avatar of War, large enough to be visible from the surface of the planet, she barely needed to use her helmets telescopic functions, but did so anyway. Seemed the entire galaxy was here. Briefly, she felt selfish, although that was short lived.



The entire galaxy didn't care for her, so she wasn't keen on caring for them. She was here for a wardog, and the simple reminded caused her to turn back to step back in line, listening for Kranak's order before moving to stand near him. She hoisted her scattergun over her left shoulder, resting it there as she watched the brunt of Forces push out to their defensive positions, but her head kept scanning. She could kill anything that opposed them, sure; but she couldn't fight the tunnel vision.



She could see her form already, although it wasn't yet visible to her. Still, she wasn't sure what to do when they met. Kranak was convinced she was under some kind of mind control, although she couldn't tell whether he had said it to comfort her own rage at the time, or if it was something he truly believed. Did it even matter either way?



Her mind raced, eventually staring off into the distance blankly. Caught between plotting malice on someone she had once called friend, and sister... And feeling a bottomless sense of guilt for doing so.



Her free hand rested on her TKO-20, brushing the handle and pressing just lightly on the weapon in its holster. Two bandoliers of ammunition for both weapons wrapped around her armor tautly, as she expected to move. on her other thigh, an ENCL-12 rested in wait, for the brunt of the fighting. At the small of her back, just beneath, and behind the vents of her jetpack, laid a Adtr'i'dadr. Simple, reliable, and likely today... Would be used more than once.




"Olaror dayn, Ni kar'taylir gar cuyir olar" (Come out, I know you're here.)



She growled aloud, lightly beginning to pace



<”Let’s move. We are joining Brother Atiel,”>

She cast a glance to him, upnodding in response, and would wait until he activated his own pack before following suit, falling in line just left of him as they set out for the known unknown of war.

Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Shai Maji



















 
obj1tython.png


Cycle of Hatred: Journey's End


Location: Tython, Journey's End
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Julian Qar Julian Qar

  • Kallan struggles with being locked in The Mongrel's body, and opens up to his wife about it
  • The Mongrel prepares himself to face Barran, and arrives at the chosen meeting spot



Inside
Is there a problem, my love?

He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. But in the end, there was no avoiding it. He would not shut his wife out of his thoughts, refused to keep her at arm's length. In their vows he had sworn always to be honest and kind with her, and Kallan did not make promises lightly. He took a long, steadying inhale, breathing in the scent of her hair, and snuggled closer to her. She was warm and soft against him, curled up in the blankets, his arm gently draped over her chest to hold her close. With her, he felt whole.

But he couldn't block out the outer world.

The real one.

~ I'm... struggling, ~ he confessed. ~ I'm trying to focus on right here, right now, just us. ~ He planted a soft kiss on her neck, fighting to stay in this beautiful moment... and losing. It was a strange sensation, to see one thing and to feel another. It was like the disorientation people sometimes felt in virtual reality, the nausea that crept into their stomachs when their eyes told them they were moving but their equilibrium told them they were not. He saw warm sun and soft blankets and the beautiful face of the woman he loved.

He felt flashes of something else entirely.

~ But it's still my body out there, ~ Kallan told his wife. ~ And the stronger I get, the closer to being a whole person again, the more I can feel it. What he's doing out there. Terrible things. ~ It all came only in dark glimpses and shuddering feelings, like horrible half-remembered nightmares... only the nightmares were more real than this waking dream he shared with his love. No matter how beautiful this place was, no matter how much he wanted to stay in it and forget the galaxy beyond, he couldn't shake off the cold touch of reality.

~ I try not to think about it, I try to focus on just us, but... ~ he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a shaky breath. He could not escape the reality that he was a prisoner shackled in a small portion of his own mind. He could not forget that the body he knew had been stripped away, replaced with cold, unfeeling metal. He could not ignore that the fanatic who'd been implanted in his brain had used him to commit horrific crimes against millions of innocents. ~ I can't block it out, ~ he whispered, looking at her.

There were tears in his eyes, tears of hopeless pain.

~ Please, help me block it out. ~

-----------------------------------

Outside
The Mongrel almost laughed when Mercy suggested just bombarding Barran's meeting place, reducing it to rubble and ash with the long-range guns of the war skiffs. It was a pragmatic solution, the kind of suggestion that separated soldiers from warriors. Ordinarily, the warlord might have taken her up on the idea. The Brotherhood of the Maw was not concerned with such petty concepts as Jedi morality or Mandalorian honor; in a war to cleanse the entire galaxy, now united against them, they would do whatever it took to win.

No matter how ugly, callous, and cruel.

But this was different. This enemy was no ordinary ground commander, but the single greatest Imperial veteran of the entire Second Great Hyperspace War. "Tempting," he rumbled in reply, "but if we simply obliterate Barran, we cannot take his head. Far more powerful to make his death a symbol than just another random battlefield casualty." There was more to it than that, of course. The Mongrel wanted this fight, wanted to cross blades with his rival of ten years. Long range weapons, though useful, were so impersonal.

A feud like theirs deserved to be ended face to face.

The speeder bike whooshed over the plains and then out onto the crystal-clear waters of the lake. The repulsorlift engines kicked up a trail of iridescent spray in their wake, each flying droplet glowing like a corusca gem as the sunlight filtered through it. With his highly-enhanced cybernetic lenses, The Mongrel saw everything in multiple spectrums of light and heat... but he focused in on their reflection as it raced over the water. He looked at the image of Mercy, his loyal shadow, her arms wrapped around his hulking metal torso.

He wished he could feel those arms.

Or the wind in his hair.

Or anything real.

It was beautiful, this vision of the two of them racing over the water on a warm, clear day... but to him, it was like the holovid they'd been watching. He could only imagine what it would be like to experience it fully, with the smells and sensations he could no longer sense. ~ I would like that too, ~ he told her, but it was only half true. It would always make him sad to be only half-present in these moments. Mercy could show him the things he was missing, place those lost pieces of the world in his mind, but it would never be the same.

He wouldn't let the Brotherhood do to her what they'd done to him. That was why The Mongrel needed to end, to find his martyrdom and pass from this war-torn galaxy. He looked down at the runes carved into the metal of his cybernetic armor, runes in the ancient Ur-Kittat script that spoke of sacrifice and the power of faith. He had accepted those runes willingly, unafraid to give his life in service to the Dark Voice... but he had forbidden the Heathen Priests from so much as touching Mercy. He would not let them take her soul.

He wanted her to be free, to truly live.

She could do that, without him.

What do you think? Why does he want to meet you here? The question jerked the warlord back from his grim thoughts. "It is a place far removed from the battle," he replied, speaking aloud now. There was no one else to hear them out here in the middle of the lake. "He has chosen somewhere we will not be interrupted. Every time I have fought him or his champions before, something forced us apart." The press of swoops and walkers on Ilum, the hyperdrive rift on Korriban, the breaking of the lake ice on Csaus.

"He is making sure that won't happen this time."

"He is making sure we'll finish this."


The coordinates drew nearer, and that feeling of looming destiny grew stronger in The Mongrel's fractured mind. It was obvious now where both of them were leading. The little island loomed up in front of the warlord and his wife, rocky shores sloping gently up to sunlit woodlands. It was the kind of place that The Mongrel knew from the memories Mercy had shared with him... the kind of place more fit for a wedding than a murder. But he knew from long experience that even the most beautiful of places were not immune to the touch of war.

He had brought war to many of them.

As the island drew closer, blobs of green and brown resolving into individual trees, The Mongrel spotted a trail of smoke curling up from somewhere within the woods. It was a better guide than any homing beacon. "He's waiting for us," the warlord said, more to himself than to Mercy. "That is where we'll find him." The speeder zoomed closer, skimming swiftly across the last stretch of lake. Finally it crossed the shore, and loose gravel scattered from beneath its engines rather than water. The Mongrel killed the engine.

"We'll walk from here." One last walk in the woods. With her.

A moment too precious to pass up.

The Mongrel swung his metal leg off the bike, little stones crunching beneath his heavy metal feet. He offered Mercy a hand, ready to help her down from her seat, as though he was a fancy Alderaanian gentleman and not an eight-foot cyborg engine of destruction. He could not enjoy the wind and the sun on their little walk up to Barran's campsite, or the smell of the pines, but he took in what he could: birdsong, the buzzing of insects, the gentle swaying of the trees as the breeze shook them. Most of all, he took in the sight of her.

Beside him, as he always wanted her to be.

But he knew he had to set her free.

~ Promise me something, ~ he asked her, once again speaking in their minds. He did not want Barran to overhear this, his intimate final request to the woman he loved. ~ Promise me that, no matter what happens, you will not intervene. ~ He knew she wouldn't like that. They had saved each other many times, from his rescue of her on Dromund Kaas to her rescue of him on Odessen. They fought together, relied on each other. He was asking her to set all that aside. ~ Someone has to tell the tribe what happened here. ~

~ And what is about to happen... I must do it myself. ~


Barran's campsite awaited, the flickering firelight now visible between the trees. If The Mongrel had still had lungs, he would have taken a deep, steadying breath... but those had been lost to him years ago. Instead he simply laid one hand on the hilt of his sword, the mighty blade that Thomas had forged for him, baptized in Jedi blood. With his other hand, he found Mercy's hand, small compared to his giant metal palm. He held it only for a moment, for he did not want Barran to see, to guess at what was between them.

But that was all he needed.

He was ready.
 
if they're watching anyways


Auteme did not have the same connection to Tython as Master Sarratt, but as pieces of the moon began to rain down, she could understand the Jedi's pain. Waves of fear and despair washed over her, rippling through the threads that tied them all together. Across the entire world she could hear the cries of terror, the prayers for aid, bubbling up to overwhelm any cohesion the Jedi and the Alliance had.

Tython responded in turn. The earth shook, crust broke, mantle spilled out; heaven fell, and the world rose to meet it. Tython had seemed to already be channeling its strength, waiting for any excuse to unleash it upon those who had brought such destruction to it. The indifference she had felt earlier was gone. Any chance of serenity shattered. Searing shards of Ashla sheared through the clouds, sundering the surface of the world. Tython cracked in response, bristling, and distant Bogan grew bolder. The storm thickened, and lightning cracked the sky.

No, they had to stop this.

Dagon's plea was answered mostly by Master Sarratt; Auteme could only spare an inkling of strength, but her focus was drawn elsewhere. That great boulder, solid as any planet, now seemed isolated. She reached out and grabbed Cotan, forcing her power into his very soul to help him hold Tython together, calm it for even another moment. At the same time she pulled him away, placing the center of his strength for a moment under the seeing stone. The earth around the three Jedi, once shaking and spurting with lava, seemed to cool and calm. The mountain returned to just that -- a mountain, tall, imposing, immovable.

"Hold."

The word echoed through the meld. Her hands rose to take hold of the sky itself; a vast mist swirled about them. She grabbed everything she could -- the storms taking over the sky, the falling shards of the moon. The clouds were held in place, the lightning seeming to slow. The meteors grated not only against the atmosphere but also against her strength; the largest she could only slow, but the rest she could stop entirely.

She stood on the shoulders of giants, and with their help she would hold against even the heavens.
 
Fleet: Defender, Keros' Kad, Concordia, 1x Concordia-class, 1x Skira-class, 1x Sorgan-class, 2x Atin'la-class, 3x Shield-class, 4x Sur'haai-class, 6x Tionas-class, 6x PS-1 Tagger, Talyc Squadron, 21x GF-2B squadrons, 13x Directorate Viper squadrons, 6x 8-R Toscon squadrons, 4x Viper "Blackbird II" squadrons, 14x HF-2 Pike squadrons, 9x DF-1 Scarad squadrons, 3x Spitfire-class squadrons

Vaux glared as the text was relayed to her helmet. Karking Enclave karking not wanting the super people gone because of their.... Oh crap that was a lot of point defense!

"Pull up! Pull up!" Multiple fighters began to pull up as Vaux looked around, but not all would make it as blasts hit and either disabled or destroyed them. Vaux held the yoke tight and finished a split-s style maneuver before hearing the scout frigates begin to call out.

"New contacts!"

"Poodoo. They just jumped in. New vessels, most likely Maw." Aboard the Defender, Arcus was looking shocked as she watched the Metis sensors began to swing to gather data on the new ships.

"Kranak...." The A.I. appeared, looking a tad worried.

"Two groups, roughly 50 and 20 km. Orders ma'am?" She looked at the suite, closing her eyes before looking out.

"The other fleets can handle these guys. Redirect fire to the incoming fleets! That means the Skiras too! Get us reoriented to firing position on them, now. I'd like all ten side cannons ready to fire, and keep the hail coming. Is Sorgan ready to fire again?"

"Not yet ma'am, but I'll relay the orders." Soon, the Defender would begin to turn to orient her broadside to the new enemy fleets, a slow process. For now at least she could fire her five turreted hyper particle cannons, and maybe get lucky with the nose mounted plasma railguns. At the same time the forces other ships would get into firing position and start firing particle cannons, turbolasers, and heavy railguns in hopes of causing some initial damage. Meanwhile, the squadrons got their new orders, and Vaux looked over. Ok. They could handle this.... Karking osik that was a lot of enemy ships!

"Ok. That's a lot more.... Frak it! Push in, and watch their fighter and point defense!"

  • Squadrons are hit by Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha 's point defense, taking multiple out.
  • All ships begin to redirect fire to Akûz the Ravager Akûz the Ravager and Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick 's forces.
  • Defender is still mid-turn to redirect, but can fire her turreted weapons.
  • All squadrons and Tionas-class FACs redirect to new flank.

Liram Angellus Liram Angellus Vemric Keldra Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus Akûz the Ravager Akûz the Ravager Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon Tren Chaar Tren Chaar Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick Aculia Voland Aculia Voland Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber Juno - 11/0571 Juno - 11/0571 Laertia Io Laertia Io Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen
 
https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/Jd0UQlmpTF3PkNLQZi4Hu4lCYN-FvykZ9o4UZkYVx_yNuwFFygoMw_E6UqgwpEVcIQ7BAvA-3dzP-nn-Sk24R7ssB-p9l0ES1o3o1XlG9o9OSpr7HMgsa1kVLe3RCt3hp7L6Vvmx


Objective: Fight...to the DEATH
Engaging (ferociously): Chassella Chassella

The whole situation was deteriorating rapidly, it was all so surreal. Ki felt like she was dreaming again, as this all felt so strange and familiar at the same time...

Then she remembered Nozomi's words, cryptic as always, about a vision. One in which a moon crumbled and a dark tidal wave swept across the land, devouring everything in it's path.

When the Empress had met the head priestess at the Dragon's Temple, and meditated on the future, there was huge, gaping black hole. A hole with pin-prick of light was all she saw...

And it confused her, she didn't understand it all. Not even the mystic Nozomi had the answer, or at least that's what the woman had gone on about.

She knew...

The Empress's deja vu was the farthest from her mind at the moment, as she pushed left, into the Elzeri's curve. Her speed brought the thrown disk to sever the tip of her left ear. Two hits taken, time to return the favor.

Ki took a chance, with her Nagimaki in her right hand, she drew one of her twin sabers in her left, a move she had only trained twice before. But this fight had to end quickly and she was ready to push herself.

Within 3 meters of the woman, Ki screamed, tapping into the darkness that flooded the surrounding environment, and allowed it to take her. Her once vibrant azure irises shifted to flaming violet as she would unleash a violent series of rapid slashes and swings at her target.

Wide sweeping arcs from Tsuriai would be be aimed high attempting to catch the head or arms. While the bright white blade of the other saber was targeted lower, making for the legs or feet.

Kimiko had to keep the assassin on her heels, hoping to find an opening and bring this duel to a quick end...​
 
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KV-6000

Guest
K
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Location: Primary Weapon Station, Bridge - The Ablution
Weapons: “LRBBeam” Super-Heavy Beam Cannons (3) - Triple Barbette Turret
Call Sign: Delta Two
Allies: BotM ( Onrai Onrai Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen Derix Tirall Derix Tirall Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha Akûz the Ravager Akûz the Ravager )
Enemies: GA ( Juno - 11/0571 Juno - 11/0571 Tren Chaar Tren Chaar Ran Serys Ran Serys Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame Artemis Toth Artemis Toth Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne Leon Gallo Leon Gallo Zev Garallia Zev Garallia Constantine Oliva Constantine Oliva Tristram Vos Tristram Vos ) │ HI ( Maple Harte Maple Harte ) │ Elysium Empire ( Aculia Voland Aculia Voland Keatoch Keatoch ) │ ME ( Verin Oldo Verin Oldo Vemric Keldra Romul Saxon Romul Saxon ) │ AC ( Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana ) │ SJC ( Vaux Gred Vaux Gred Liram Angellus Liram Angellus ) │ NIO ( Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon ) │ EE ( Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus Mith'akis'ormo Mith'akis'ormo )
Direct Engagement: Open

Target the Avatar of War, but don’t fire?

KV-6000 blinked as she processed the new order. It went without saying that IX-73a strand-casts rarely, if ever, questioned orders given by a superior. However, the gunner was confused by it. Given how outnumbered they were, There were hundreds of enemy warships in the vicinity that needed her firepower, so aiming for the Avatar of War seemed like a waste of time and resources. If the order had not come, the strand-cast might have fired on targets of opportunity, potentially the Mandalorian frigates making their run towards the superweapon or the capital ships of the Eternal Fleet.

And yet, even as she entertained such borderline heretical thoughts, her programming set her back on track. She was an enlisted naval gunner who had no command over the Dark Side, gifted only with the skill and intelligence to perform her designated duties. As such, it was her place to serve at the beckoning of a greater, stronger master. Who was she to question the will of a Sith?

“It will be done, my Lady.” The strand-cast intoned. Immersed within the stream of data and numbers flowing into her consciousness, the Morellian's delicate, manicured fingers darted across the console with unerring grace and soon, the massive trio of beam cannons on the hull of the Ablution shifted position to point at the massive bulk of the Avatar of War. It went without saying that the strand-cast still nurtured doubts, but she had faith that the Onrai’s plan would come together in due time.

She needed only to adhere to the tenets of the Dark Father.


 
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E M P E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE IRONCLAD

@Darth Caelitus | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
Ryv | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor
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STONES FROM THE SKY
TYTHON
876 ABY​

He was reeling back to continue his assault in the midst of all his newfound comrades battlecrys when Solipsis called upon the fury of the heavens. His steely gaze snapped upwards to view the shattering cataclysm of Ashla in the sky. It was an awe-striking view of devestation- shards of planetary earth breaking the lush atmosphere of the Cradle of the Force before slamming into the once tranquil ground, striking up shards of earth and bellowing clouds of dust into the air to compound unto the already dreadful air of devastation.

This would truly be his rendezvous with destiny. Solipsis was not only the bringer of chaos, but of the apocalypse. To fail here- to fail this day, would spell certain doom for the Galaxy. There would be no respite in his pursuit of the Demon. Every path he'd followed in the oathsworn execution of any Sith Lord had led to their execution in mortal form or expulsion from the Galaxy with little to none of their influence in their wake. Solipsis had to be next.

It dawned on him the moment he set foot on Tython- but it truly bared its weight now.

Rurik- would have to do everything in his clutches of mortal power to kill Solipsis...and he cast more and more doubt on the prospect of him being able to stand above him at the end of the struggle to claim victory. No- the struggle would seize them both.

But he was prepared to do what needed to be done. Anything less was nowhere close to a viable option, not here, not now.

He had to die.

Shrouded in the smoke and soot of the surrounding devastation that embraced his form, his gaze caught the projectile path of another approaching shard of Ashla's earth careening toward him from the heavens.

He screwed his eyes shut for a moment- calling upon the force to shield him before soon enough it slammed down into the broken temple grounds around him.

While his barrier broke the impact- the cloud of smoke and dust in its wake did not provide any reassurances- an eerie silence from where Rurik stood. The appearance of an unjust and inglorious end to the Iron Emperor and perhaps a false invigoration for Solipsis until after the moment of death in the air, his form emerged from the smoke his argent blade in his right hand and a saber of crimson in his left as he vaulted his way toward Solipsis once more to pull him into single combat where Rurik, ever the masterful bladesman believed he had the upper hand over the Demon. The longer he could keep Solipsis in a dance of blades- the less damage he could inflict across this world.

"Enough!"
Rurik shouted as whirled his sabers in a violent dervish of death targetted at Solipsis. As the Jedi around him entered their meld, Rurik stood in reliance purely on his own senses, his own control of the Force around him and his mortal visage to slay the Sith before him.
 
Location: Jump point at Aargau.
Enemies: The Maw
Allies: GA, NIO, SJO, anyone not the Maw

"Coming up on our first jump point" the pilot said calmly it was just another day of flying for him he expected nothing to go wrong. The flight path had been planned carefully.

Faith on the other hand was stressed all she could think about was the battle at Tython and meeting the Ambassador. What would she propose to the Ambassador, "Becca what is the Ambassador's name again?" Forgetful she had become forgetful and that too worried her. So many worries she felt certain her hair would turn gray and all the lines that she tried to hide so well would take over and show just how old she was.

"I don't think I can pronounce the name he is Vratix and requires an interpreter." Becca was embarassed that she had not been able to master the name. Saying it twisted her tongue in ways that felt unnatural. It was meant to make her slur her words to give the name the emphasis it deserved.


Faith shook her head, "Find out how to say it Becca let's not insult the Ambassador" Wouldn't that create a fiasco.

Faith could hear the gentle shift of the engines as the shipped dropped out of hyperspace into normal space. They would hold here until a check of the engines was completed then they'd make the next jump. The next jump was crucial it would be the circle around Tython.

She looked off into the direction of Tython how many would die there today? Such a high cost the main reason she hated war the loss. Not the planet or its resources but the people that would die defending it, defending their right to be there, their families, their livelihoods everything that pushed someone to get up every day and made life worth living.

It was while she pondered this that the engineer came up to speak with the Captain, "There's a flux that I can't account for, it seems minor but if it gets worse we'll need to find a place to set down for repairs"

Faith would not hear this conversation Becca stared over at the Captain. This was why she had always mistrusted flying in space, its not like being on the ground. On the ground you stop fix it. In space you can't stop and fix it you have to land to fix it. Feth the young woman thought.

"If you think you can make it work till Coruscant I think we will chance it" A short exchange of nods between the men then each went their way.

Next jump was to Jerrilek. "Mam we are ready"

"Ok." She smiled unconcerned.

Within moments the ship jumped within moments that small flux turned into something uncontrollable. The Engineer did his best to try and bring it back online to correct the flow of energy. A giant surge and the ship made a huge leap from it's course. Fear gripped the passengers, while the pilot fought to keep the ship on some type of course.

The ship was flicked from hyperspace tumbling end over end her passengers inside strapped to their seats, passed out in the darkness. The only light came from outside like fireworks going off....where were they?
 
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