Skirmish [SO/GA] The Cleansing of Thule

[Corazona von Ascania]

Where Madrona A’Mia drew strength from the ritual – and the subtle intervention of an unseen benefactor – Cora could feel the Light dwindling away, slipping through her fingers like sand. Thule trembled beneath them, building pressure towards something incredible. The specters that had rushed towards them now barreled past, one managing to slip its way through the barrier around the assembly hall where it screeched and dissipated into dust.

It was the rain that struck her as the most fascinating aspect in this sea of horrors. Black and acrid, stinging her skin as it slid down her bare cheeks, but suffusing…life into the earth around them? Strange. Cora had only ever seen the Dark take life, recalling how it siphoned the verdant forests of Ukatis to fuel a nexus. Her brow crinkled in confusion as a flower bloomed from the crack of a cobblestone her boot.

Something extraordinary and terrible was happening to Thule – and Nwul was at the epicenter of it all, conducting this maelstrom of a ritual. But there was no time to linger on that thought, because the lithe form of her opponent now swelled startlingly with power.

With wide eyes, Cora bit the inside of her cheek, neck craning upward to follow the unsettling growth of the Neti woman's physique. She'd already been taller to begin with, but now she dwarfed the human, her flesh splintering like timber to widen the brawn of her body. It was like watching a sort of horrific evolution; ominous and beautiful all at once.

And then she was surging towards her like a bullet. Light on her feet as Cora was, A'Mia was moving too quickly for her to dodge. She snapped a hand downward as the phrik blades lashed out for her core, a thin modified energy shield springing from the tiny pearl affixed to the front of her satin glove. The barrier temporarily halted the blades, absorbing their momentum.

"What...what are you?" She hissed through her teeth, another drop of acidic rain sizzling at her brow and harshening her expression.

With her opponent's hands occupied, she jabbed the cylindrical hilt of her lightsaber against the hulking Neti's body and thumbed the ignition, aiming to break thought skin, bone, wood – whatever it was this creature was made of. The shielding at her wrist shattered underneath the tension of honed phrik, dissipating into nothing.

THWACK!

Not a moment after igniting her azure blade, the hidden alusteel daggers struck their mark. Cora's cold focus shifted to dazed in an instant. Her vision swam, dark spots freckling her field of view as she stumbled on unsteady feet, pain blossoming at the back of her skull.

 

[Xeykard]

Iris Arani
​

Xeykard took the chip carefully. Though it was an insignificant piece of metal, there was a weight to it as the Jedi handed it to him. "This one would say you would make a good Sith... but that wouldn't be true," he said, stowing the chip in his belt.

The darkness directly around them began to fade, but the energy in the atmosphere tipped to a fever pitch. "This meeting draws to a close. Is there anything else?"

 

[Liam Nargon]

Location: Outside of the Last City, Thule
Equipmeint: Nargon Holocron, lightsaber, Fur-line coat
Tags: Shasill Kaarte

Liam couldn’t help a smirk from appearing on his lips as his kick seemed to catch his opponent off guard. He felt the surprise and self-admonishment coming from the Sith. It was a good feeling. With the confidence along with the voice of the holocron a degree of calm started to come over Liam. He didn’t realize that the ritual was reaching a point that it was no longer pushing dark emotions upon him.

The confidence and calm turned to a bit of panic from Liam as he noticed a slight tug on his pocket. There was a bit of relief when he felt resistance from the pull without having to exert much energy of his own. Shasill would see the glow intensify, a pulse of Light Side energy and resistance to his pull.

The change in the environment was noticed and added to the prior state of panic that Liam was feeling. He also felt the pain associated with the precipitation and flinched as a bolt of Force Lightning struck close to the apprentices’ duel. Liam had a very bad feeling about things. The ritual seemed to have let go of his feelings. Allowing the light to shine through, but he was now worried and in pain. Things that did not help his cause. Even if the Sith was feeling these things as well, Shasill could use these emotions to feed into his power. At least that’s what the holocron had taught Liam in light vs dark 101.

Liam’s eyes darted around the changing scenery, looking for some shelter from the hostile precipitation as well as the electrically charged atmosphere. It was a distraction that much was true, but if they did not find someway out of this rain even though the Sith would be victorious he would likely not be in much shape to celebrate his victory. ”Please tell me that even you think staying out here in this environment is suicide,” Liam stated as his eyes connected with a building at the edge of the city. It was maybe a hundred meters away. A concession on the part of the Sith would be required to relocate their duel indoors, but Liam took a shot anyway. ”Some shelter not far away. You’ll have to give ground, but you’ll have me contained to a box. Seems a good compromise to avoid scarring rain wouldn’t you say?”

 

[Astrid pentoghast]

Equipment: red lightsaber, nightsister bow
Tag: Jonyna Si

Astrid didn't speak back she knew when she was wrong and she was wrong now insults where never her strong suit. Even if she did try time to time and now showed why she wasn't good at it even if she didn't study every Jedi's past even if she did how was she supposed to keep them straight. She had other things on her mind other than keeping the history of every single opponent she would face im her mind.

As Astrid was preparing to use the environment to her benefit as jonyna swung her blade and let loose the lightning Astrid couldn't block it in time getting electrocuted dropping to her knees she breathed heavy as she teleported away.

 

[Shan Pavond]

His adrenaline was starting to run low. The distinct throbbing in his head only increased in pain as the Mirialan tried to figure out what direction he was heading in. The Dark Side swirling around him was making it harder for him to focus, trying to keep himself protected from it. It was easier said than done however as he stumbled through the planet, doing the most he could to even stay standing. The knock to his head had done plenty to mess up his equilibrium and his balance. He had to get out here, he did everything right. He had listened to his Master. He had ran away but now he was alone, lost, and afraid on Thule.

Shan could sense something bubbling in the planet. Even as someone who was weak in sensing through the Force, he could feel the ripples coming from Thule and he needed to get away from it. This was much easier said than done when he could heal the wails of what he thought to be people in pain and anguish echoing around him. Constantly sapping his morale and his strength. The heat was getting the best of him, alongside the rain that seemed to bite and sting at his skin. He just had to keep himself moving forward. The Mirialan had to hold out hope that he was going to find someone to help him. Someone who could get him off this planet. With a sudden whistling shooting through the sky, Shan turned his head just in time to try and dodge a ball of flames being thrown in his direction, blowing the Padawan off his feet and sending his lightsaber hurtling out of his hand and down to his side.

With the loss of his lightsaber, the pain of his fight alongside the burns from the fireball rocked through his system. The painkilling aspect of his crystal ripped away from him, as the dull throbbing of pain became a scream. A scream of agony and pain but he couldn't let himself black out. Not yet when there appeared to be a civilian marching on his position, ready to unleash yet another crispy attack. Shan didn't fancy becoming some Thule Fried Padawan, so whilst fighting through his pain, the Mirialan took his blaster from its holster and fired off a few stun rounds in the direction of his opponent, not even keeping watch to see if the attacker collapsed.

He had to keep moving. Shan had to get out of here. But his body refused to respond to his mind. The agony was far more severe than anything he had experienced before. The Mirialan was used to being beaten up, kicked, and beaten black and blue but this was different. His head was cut open from hitting the ground earlier, his ribs ached from the impact making it harder for him to breathe, not helped by the temperature of his surroundings and the black rain that seemed to burn his mouth whenever he tried to take in a breath. The burns from the fireball he had tried to escape didn't help either, his leg being burnt and the pain only increasing with the more rain that hit him.

Was this it for him? He had too much he still had to do. He had to help more people. He had to protect them. But he couldn't even protect himself. It was only a matter of time before someone found him and put him out of his misery. He couldn't even fight against it. So Shan did the only thing he could do. He started to cry, as tears fell down his face, cutting through the dirt, grime, and muck. He still had so much to do. He still had to apologise to his father, even though his dad had tried to shoot the Mirialan. I'm sorry Dad. He had to apologise to Kahlil, for not being strong enough. Shan had overestimated himself. He had thought he was ready when he wasn't. I'm sorry Master Kahlil. He had to find his mother. She was potentially in possession of slavers...or had already been sold off. But he couldn't help her. I'm sorry Mum. With that, the Padawan just blacked out, the pain and turmoil finally reaching his limit.

TAG for Madrona A’Mia for when they want to end up grabbing the passed out green bean.

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: lightsaber, grappling hook, smoke bomb x3
Tag: Liam Nargon

Shasill let out a low growl when he felt a harsh resistance against his pull. So...a light side aligned object. A Holocron. Interesting that a Jedi would be carrying a Holocron with him into a battlefield. What if...

His thoughts were interrupted by the Jedi's annoying voice.

”Please tell me that even you think staying out here in this environment is suicide,”
”Some shelter not far away. You’ll have to give ground, but you’ll have me contained to a box. Seems a good compromise to avoid scarring rain wouldn’t you say?”

The apprentice chuckled. "You really think you can fool me? What will stop you from just running away? Sure we'll be in an enclosed space, but escape is as simple as unlocking the door and running out. Besides...this pain is welcome. Scars show my devotion to the dark side. The scars I get from this battle will make sure that I never forget the first Jedi I killed!" he exclaimed, changing his focus from the object in the Padawan's pocket, to the Jedi himself as he made an attempt to pull the man into the range of the humming red lightsaber.

Meanwhile, he was feeding off of the tiny explosions of agony along his arms and legs, as well as the pain his opponent was feeling. But the negative emotions weren't where the majority of his power was coming from. The strength Shasill was drawing off of was the fun he was having in this duel. Sure, others would think him crazy for being amused in a life-threatening situation. But that was just what the apprentice craved. He wanted to impress. And as far as he knew, he was doing a good job.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Using her momentum and her smaller opponent’s movements, A'Mia slammed into the woman with no mind for protecting her core. The lightsaber flared to life and acrid smoke began to boil up from its point of contact, at the place it ran through her body just beneath where ribs would exist on a near human. The plantlike flesh hissed and squealed like green wood lit ablaze before it had properly cured. The padawan found herself pressed back into a violent mockery of a dancer's dip, swept nearly off her feet as A'Mia looped one of those previously striking arms about her waist. She passed off the blade in that hand to one of her many wild locs of hair.

Frozen momentarily in time the pair was pelted by black rain, A'Mia's smiling mask of a face under-lit by azure blade as the taller woman loomed briefly over the smaller.

"A new friend perhaps? Or you can make an enemy of me."

Her tone stayed consistent, bright as the noonday sun despite the darkness rising all around to choke out the light. Then she hefted the dazed little woman over her shoulder with one long arm that was thick around as a tree trunk, surprisingly delicate in the scooping motion. The move carelessly dragged the saber up her flank carving a great smoking rend through her before trapping Corazona von Ascania ’s arm beneath herself where she landed on the Neti's broad shoulder. Unarmed strands of vine began snaking to try securing the woman's limbs lest she hurt herself in the struggle.

The Neti registered immense pain but feared not for herself, not yet. Lacking anything like recognizable vital organs and unconcerned by damage which had already been made up for in the mass gained by the strange ritual, she careened forward. Arcing away from the door she'd been guarding, making instead to sweep around the back of the building and access the upper stories. Suddenly a crumpled form caught her eye and she veered on her way to scoop up the prone form of Shan Pavond , hoisting and securing him onto her other shoulder.

 

[Darth Caedes]

<< Tranquility is a shield; and pain, our armor. >>
—Darth Caedes, ruminations
​

• Outer Rim | Esstran Sector
• Thule | Neighboring Sith Holy Space
• The Last City
• Tags— Madrona A’Mia | Darth Nwul | Valery Noble | Zal Aditi

"Shasot. Tyuk. Midwan. Asha," echoed the silvery voice of Darth Caedes, his whispers carried like smoke to waft about the ritual chambers.​

In a sudden rush of pain, the Sith Lord inhaled light and let it burn through him, bright beneath the skin of his forehead, beneath the lids of his eyes. It pooled in his stomach like poison or alcohol, an oil slick glow throbbing with unknowable power. It infiltrated the tight chains of his already-tattered genetic code and altered what it found.

"Chwuq. Saud. Hadzuska. Xela," he continued through sharp, clenched teeth.​

Blood welled up in the troughs of his eyes, gathering and spilling over, running down his cheeks like red rivers and pooling together at the base of his chin. More spilled from his nose, from his ears, from the corners of his tranquil grimace. Caedes and Thule, Thule and Caedes, became one— such that as his own hair began to fall out and regrow, drifting slowly down, down, down, Caedes could feel the clouds open up miles above him to release their bounty. As his blood hit the floor in thick droplets, so too did the black rain of Thule begin its monsoon.

"Dzia. Saarai. Siqsa. Chwayat."​

Something bent and snapped in the Sith Lord's shoulder, the arm coming out of place at an unnatural angle. He felt the old bone shatter, its brittle splinters then reaching like hungry fish to re-knit themselves. Caedes wanted to cry out but remained still, biting down with so much force as to be sure he'd shatter teeth. The world became acid and fire around him, within him, his vision cast out against the backdrop of an ensorcelled Thule. Another bone cracked and he found it hard to remain upright, slumping to one side. The veins in his arm tangled like a pit of snakes, his fingers twitching and convulsing.

A priest shrieked, casting their mask aside to shatter like porcelain, bestial beneath a torn sanity, tearing their eyes from their skull as they fell from the ritual's song. Reaching with an outstretched arm as if to catch something solid, Darth Caedes let flow his own power into that vacant space and filled the rhythm. Instantly, the arm snapped in three places, wrenching itself into odd angles, but Caedes pushed through the pain. The ritual trembled beneath this new weight, and another priest fell; another broken arm outstretched, so that Caedes looked as if he were holding aloft some massive boulder with naught but his own two thin arms. The stone of the assembly hall's floor cracked below Caedes, depressing as if struck by some incorporeal meteor, the Sith Lord then left straining at the crater's bottom.

"Visuom," he continued.​

Roots and vines burgeoned from the stone around him, writhing like eels and growing long black thorns from the stems of budding flowers. He bled, and they seemed to drink from him.
​

"Hyal. Sssiiitthhh. Shasot!" ​

Thunder tore the skies above and shook the world. Head back now, Caedes reveled in the pain, intoxicated by its glory. Thorns pressing into him, now it was he who drank from them; their power becoming his, the body of Thule and of the Sith Lord momentarily merging to become one being, elemental; an incarnation of the dark side of the Force.

"The Jedi is coming, Caedes," Nwul wheezed from behind him.​

"The spell needs time to do it's work, I will recover soon."​

Finally, his eyes opened, spotlit beacons of negative space, an inky-crimson, screaming swirl from which blood ran like thick, gushing tears. Darth Caedes drew in his breath and found Zal Aditi again in the Force. He touched the minds of those masked sorcerers who remained yet standing amidst the churn of Thule's conversion, and gave to them resolve. Then, with one last meditative exhale, Caedes released the tension in his body and passed to them the full burden of Nwul's sorcery.

"Rest now, friend," Caedes cooed, his tone an eerie serpentine.​

"You've done well," he continued, beginning to rise.​

Long thorns tore healing gashes across the attenuated flesh of his forearms, unsheathing themselves as if syringes from the vein. Cracking back into place, the Sith Lord's skeleton fractured and stretched, then reformed into something altogether different, unrecognizable; as if some new and ancient creature stared out from behind the murky depths of Caedes' gaze. Reaching as if having found their sun, the plant-life of Thule grew towards him, stretching, thirsting.

Slowly, reverently, Darth Caedes reached to his belt and retrieved his eldest lightsaber, the sickly green of a once-Consular's blade turned to darkness.

"Leave the Jedi... to me..."​

​

ttTTTthrRRUUuummmmm

​

 

[Lady Venge]

Venge was rapidly becoming annoyed with Darth Amarok. Did he think that his armor cost nothing? That he could casually sacrifice his prosthetic arm....to a mere Padawan?!

"Lord Amarok, are you going to stand there all day and let yourself be bested by a mere Padawan, or are you going to DEFEAT HIM," she roared.

TAG- Thal Mantis

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Tags— Darth Nwul | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Madrona A’Mia | Valery Noble

As her mind stabilized, Zal took a deep breath and received the energy her master handed off to her. His support had come at the perfect time, and lasted only as long as it was needed. In perfect synchrony with Darth Caedes she rebalanced the portion of the load she carried, and the ritual moved forward, building to the next level of screaming intensity. She would not allow herself to falter again.

"Shasot. Tyuk. Midwan. Asha."

Caedes flared suddenly with the same golden light that Nwul already burned with. A split second later, the power hit Zal, amplifying over and over again as the ritual climbed to its peak. The force rippled through the star iron inlay and up into the apprentice's body, ripping through sinew and bone, filling the hollows of her bones with searing brightness. Light spilled from the eyeholes of her mask, the carved, rapturous expression gleaming. She exhaled sharply, her breath glowing like luminous mist, and steeled herself against the onslaught.

"Chwuq," she cried, the power wrenching the words from her throat. "Saud. Hadzuska. Xela!"

Though the energy that tore through her was less potent than that at the epicenter, she could still feel it working on her, altering and shaping her like rivulets of water shaped the sand, like fire cleansed a forest. The light filled her, and it cast shadows within her, their depths as dark as the gold was bright. Her braided feather-hair bristled, her scalp undulating as more plumage erupted from her head, then down across her neck and shoulders. Her talons twitched and lengthened, the bone splitting through the sheath as it grew. Brilliant smoke rose from her as the cultist robes smoldered, shimmering white light beginning to shine through the hood and shoulders where it hung against her body.

She watched as Nwul and Caedes began to be savaged by the power, bloodied and distorted, and she began to pull upon the magic that suffused her, turning the force to heal and fortify her body rather than rip it apart. It was nearly the first Sith magic she had learned, healing; but for all his skill and might, Caedes could not do it. He would need her aid before this day was done. For now, it was all she could do to heal the strain on her body as it happened. The metamorphotic effects on her body slowed and steadied, continuing but at a far less frenzied pace than elsewhere in the chamber. Her voice shifted as the sorcery subtly stretched her neck, the tones becoming foreign to her own ears.

"Dzia. Saarai. Siqsa. Chwayat."

It was clear the cultists around her also lacked any restorative talents. One or two dropped to the ground, their agony and terror feeding the rite even as their performance faltered. Darth Caedes flung out an arm as he filled the gap, then another, the flow of power too intense for his body to withstand. His limbs jerked and twitched as the bone cracked and split under the weight of the ritual. Zal shifted her weight, widening her stance as the load of the magic fluctuated, pouring all her focus into maintaining the balance. The hall itself shook as a crater opened at the center, strange flora twisting up through the cracks to anchor themselves in Caedes' flesh.

"Visuom --Hyal -- Sith -- Shasot--!"

The final syllable rang out and the power raging through her shifted; it was not tamed, but neither did it fight against her. Some subtle shift in resonance, and the torrent of energy came into harmony with her. The dark might she had fought to contain now empowered her, attuned to her purpose. She felt Caedes in the force, and then, for a moment, it was as though he was Thule itself - his connection with the planet primal, inextricable -- but as Nwul spoke, she felt him come back to himself, return to individuality. Then his attention turned to her.

She felt his awareness of the fumble she had made before, and his confidence that she would not repeat the mistake. Then the weight of power he had been carrying in the ritual shifted, coming to rest on her shoulders. Across the room she heard one of the cultists grunt with sudden effort. She took the burden in stride. The power that now partnered with her made her strong, adequate to a task that would have crushed her mere minutes before. Briefly she wondered if Caedes had need of her healing powers; but the broken and fractured pieces of his body drew themself together into a new form. He turned his attention outward, towards their approaching foe, and green light blossomed in the chamber as his saber crackled and hissed to life.

This was going to be good.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As black rain sizzled against her skin, Cora ground her teeth together and held fast to her lightsaber hilt - now with both hands - as the blade hissed and scorched the bark of her opponent's hide. Forced on her back foot, her eyes fluttered, vision wavering as pain spread from the base of her skull to her temples.

A measure of awareness flared her eyes as one branch-like arm snaked around her waist.

"What are y-!"

Suddenly, she was hoisted onto the Neti's broad shoulder, blue plasma searing a gash through her woody torso as she was dragged. Cora killed her lightsaber and fought the vines that sought to restrain her.

"Sh…Shan?" Hazy blue eyes squinted, fighting back unconsciousness to focus harder on the bundle of green skin and Jedi robes slung over A'Mia's other shoulder. Information trickled in slowly - the heated air she breathed in, the rough feel of the bark her body was pressed against, the tide of darkness that now swarmed over Thule - until the realization that she was staring at the unconscious body of her fellow Padawan.

Perhaps it was the self-appointed role of elder sister she'd taken on as one of the older apprentices, but the urge to protect Shan hit her hard.

"L…let him go you- you overgrown…ssnnn…house….plant…"

Struggling against her constraints, Cora managed to lift two fingers, a weak attempt at telekinetically shoving Shan Pavond from his captor's grasp. Darkness wash over her vision only a few seconds later, and the blonde Padawan went limp.

Madrona A’Mia

 

[Liam Nargon]

Location: Outside of the Last City, Thule
Equipmeint: Nargon Holocron, lightsaber, Fur-line coat
Tags: Shasill Kaarte

Of course the Sith’s response was correct from his point of view. Allowing Liam to get closer to the city without having to fight for it was a consolation without a benefit. The idea of allowing himself to be harmed and scarred to honor his order, was absurd to Liam, but through his teachings he knew that it was the truth. The Sith would rather exit this duel completely maimed by the acid rain than give an inch to his enemy. It was a shame. But it did tell Liam one thing, if he wanted to avoid being maimed and scarred himself he would need to earn passage into the cover of the city.

His opponent’s emotion fueled power quickly tugged on Liam’s whole body. The young Jedi dug his feet into the ground, but started moving all the same. His focus was broken by the pain of small droplets hitting his skin, or slowly burning through his jacket. Pain was not a positive emotion for the Jedi, and he was not having fun. Knowing that he was going to be in striking distance in no time, Liam had two choices. He could prepare to defend himself and enter into a drawn out fight, or he could try to use his opponent’s efforts against him.

”A smart combatant would state that opening a door and running away would open my back to a cowardly attack,” Liam stated gritting his teeth in exertion against the Sith’s pull. ”If I were to subscribe to the run away tactic I would be doubly incentivised while being held out here in this rain though, no?”

As he said the last word Liam extinguished his lightsaber and stopped fighting the pull. Instead he put all his physical strength into his legs and pushed in an upwards and forwards jump. He closed his eyes and focused all his spirit into the Force aiding his trajectory hoping to make it over his opponent’s reach. Whether successful or not he landed his jump in a roll and was quick to his feet, now between the Sith and the city. He reignited his weapon and quickly was backpedaling towards the closest available cover.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Thule
Tags: Braze , Adeline Noctua

Lux Ultima​

His eyes. Jasper saw the telegraphed attack and side stepped, using his blade to clear the tendrils around him. It was draining, however. Already the use of force light was sapping away at his strength. He'd stow his claymore, quickly drawing an orange short-bladed lightsaber which he raised in a reverse grip.

Those tendrils... one had something. A dark presence, unseen by the naked eye. There wasn't just this to take in. A retreat and swell of emotions, the sudden influx of life creeping in around them. Thule was changing. It was all happening so fast that Jasper was getting whiplash. Worst, his hearing was still gone. None of the words passing the lips of his Sith opponent, who was very likely trying to worm her way into his student's head, nor the reaction of Braze were making it to his ears whatsoever.

There was only one course of action.

<Braze, I think things are taking a turn for the worse,> He relayed telepathically. <I think we gotta disengage. This fight isn't over, but we're no good to it dead.>

Jasper raised his shoto, preparing to clash blades with the Sith knight once again. He'd do what he could to stall, give Braze a head start while he figured something out, but they needed to leave. For his sake more than Jasper's own.

<Give me some kind of sign,> Jasper instructed. <I'll slow her down and be right behind you.>

Hopefully.

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Tags: Braze Jasper Kai'el

To her surprise, the little one had managed to avoid getting speared right through the chest. With the black tendril being chopped atwain the other half would simply slither back into her, while the other portion turned into a puddle of liquid that started to taint the ground.

Then it came again, the wild surge of fire... This padawan was close, if only she could get her hands on him. So close to the dark, since when was tossing flames on people part of keeping the peace?

To her there was no finer and brutal a pain then that of burning alive, and she got to feel this again as the flames made the nightmarish woman stumble back. Though this time she wanted to let them all share in this feeling, using tutaminis to absorb the bulk of the heat within her hand.

With the strings of emotion being pulled so tightly, it finally happened. Darth Keres screamed out a roar as she flew into a rage, the anger turning the stolen flame into an absolutely brutal ball of fire. She would then lash this flame out like a fiery hot whip that would arc right in the direction of the both of them, the odd rain falling around them doing nothing to lower the heat of this raw and fiery rage.



​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: @ Adeline Noctua Jasper Kai'el

Braze had always had an affinity for certain powers that some might attribute to the dark side. Ko Vuto had heard as much even from Braze's own mother. Whether he was using electricity to spot-weld circuits, manipulate machinery, or enhancing his pyrokinesis with wind, these abilities came to him almost instinctively.

As the Sith woman lunged, her intentions malicious and clear, Braze reacted in a split second. Drawing upon both his invaluable past experiences with Aliris Tremiru 's fire-breathing Sith-spawn dragon which she had saught to tame, and Jonyna Si 's teachings on controlling fire, he threw himself toward the blaze, intending to absorb its energy. His actions were instantaneous, driven by the need to protect both himself and his Master, Jasper.

As the Sith woman launched her fiery attack, he raised both his lightsabers in a defensive stance before extending his hands outward towards the oncoming blaze. The force of his will focused intently, drawing upon both his past experiences and his unique affinity for elemental control. He felt the heat flow into him, absorbing the majority of the flames that roared towards him and Jasper. However, the intensity was just a bit too much for him to contain entirely, and he grimaced as the overflow came through.

Despite his efforts, the heat enveloped him, scalding his pale skin as he struggled to contain the flames. Most of the fire that eaked through he couldn't draw in fast enough, singeing his clothes and flesh as he tried to spare Jasper from the onslaught.

Drawing on the last remnants of his energy, Braze took a deep breath and, with an almost primal yell, thrust his arms forward. A surge of Force energy erupted from him, manifesting as a whirlwind that carried the scorching heat he had absorbed. The vortex spiraled outwards like a heated tornado, its immensely powerful winds whipping up dust and debris as it hurtled towards the Sith woman.

For a moment, the landscape itself seemed to tremble under the force of his push. Vegetation was uprooted, rocks were hurled, and the ground beneath them seemed to quiver as if caught in an earthquake. It was a desperate, last-ditch effort; a signal to Jasper that it was time to flee. He had drawn on his emotions to fuel and empower him briefly with the push sending a silent message with the sentiment to Darth Nwul
that this wasn't over.

Burned , and nearly spent, Braze moved to retreat, aware of the direness of their situation but also the necessity of survival. His injuries were manageable, his energy nearly depleted, but his resolve remained unbroken. It was time to live to fight another day.

It would appear as though this dual wielding whirring duelist was an avid fire, maniac,
who reveled in the quite literally heated battle.

 

[Valery Noble]

Thule

​

Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Appearance: Link
Ship: Link
Weapons: Blasters | Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Darth Nwul Darth Caedes Zal Aditi

Valery could feel that the ritual was nearing its completion. The Dark Side felt stronger than it had on Thule in a long time, and it had always been a world of the Sith. She had visited it many years ago with Kahlil Noble to clean up one of his old laboratories with Sith experiments. So, in a way, it almost felt like all of this was meant to be. That after discovering her dyad with him on Thule all those years ago, that she'd return to fight against the Sith and their creations again.

But with the intensity of the Dark Side growing, she knew she had to be fast.

The Light within her began to burn and in an effort to keep away that which sought to consume her, Valery allowed that inner strength to flow out. It manifested itself as tendrils of light swirling around her body, and whatever corrupted entity she encountered would find its strength purged. It wouldn't be enough to engage the Sith waiting for her up ahead, but it'd make sure that she wouldn't be corrupted herself.

After what felt like an eternity, Valery finally reached the doors leading into the room she knew to contain the source of this ritual. He felt weaker now, but he wasn't alone. With a gentle tap of her hand against the doors, she shattered them into tiny fragments before her, allowing her to step inside and face Darth Caedes and Zal Aditi . The former was a familiar presence, strong in the Dark Side, though affected by the ritual as well.

The other was younger and clearly less experienced, but she was still a threat she'd handle.

"It seems the Sith have finally learned not to try these rituals alone. Playing bodyguard now?" Valery asked Caedes with a slight grin on her face. Years ago, she had discovered Darth Maliphant conducting a ritual and managed to cut his body in half to permanently alter who he became after it was completed.

This time she'd make sure there was no coming back for any of them.

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: lightsaber, grappling hook, smoke bomb x3
tag: Liam Nargon

Shasill had been grinning as his Force pull was seeming to succeed. The Jedi was failing to fight back, his heels digging into the ground desperately, yet fruitlessly. And then, all of a sudden, the man leapt. He had stopped fighting the Sith's pull and used its momentum to help him jump.

Shasill reacted quickly, slashing upwards at the Jedi as he passed. Once the man landed, now in between the apprentice and the city, Shasill spotted a burnt piece of the Jedi's pants. He couldn't tell if the lightsaber had gone all the way through the fabric and nicked the man's leg, but it was a hit nonetheless.

Now, the Jedi was running to the city, still facing the teenager. Shasill gritted his teeth and sprinted after him. With determination powering his tired leg muscles, the Sith was beside the Padawan in no time. He extended his lightsaber towards his enemy and flicked his wrist, aiming to-

All of a sudden, the air around him was burning, and bright light filled his vision. Before he succumbed to the depths of unconsciousness, Shasill knew that a lightning bolt from the storm above had hit too close to the fight. He could only hope it hit the Jedi too.

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Outer Rim | Esstran Sector
• Thule | Neighboring Sith Holy Space
• The Last City
• Tags— Valery Noble | Darth Nwul | Madrona A’Mia | Zal Aditi

Caedes' gaze fixed itself upon the entering Jedi, cold and scrutinizing. Valery Noble, dyad and ruler within the fetid core worlds of the Galactic Alliance, had met with Caedes only once before on the field of battle; and even then she had sent her aberrant pack-mate, the sithspit Jedi Master Kahlil Noble, to deal with himself and Nwul. Elmindra Xitaar and her Apprentice, Kyraj, had been tasked with subduing the 'Sword of the Jedi' herself, though had ultimately been unable to mark any killing blows. Still, death was not always the ultimate goal of even the most violent encounters, nor the most productive.

"It seems the Sith have finally learned not to try these rituals alone. Playing bodyguard now?" Asked the Jedi Master, standing alone.
One brow rose out of place, and for a moment Caedes seemed to pity the woman before him.

"Indeed," he replied simply, the glow in his eyes peering through the woman before him.​

In an instant, the Lord's sorrowful expression collapsed into a knife's-edge-grin and Darth Caedes began to stride forward. The blade of his lightsaber hummed as he moved through the space, catching and illuminating fragments of dust and motes of airborne debris. With a twist of his neck and a gesture with his head, cocking it sideways in some sort of deranged curiosity, Caedes reached into the Force and pulled. A deafening crack rang out as stone split and shattered like thunder, architectural supports surrounding the Jedi snapping and caving in. Chunks of masonry from the ceiling fell inward from above and the hall from which she'd just emerged gave way and fell to pieces. Dust billowed up in a large, albeit localized, cloud from behind Valery Noble, pushed out from the crumbling hallways at her flank and catching the resonant glow of her Force-crafted cloak of light.

"Though it seems the Jedi have yet to learn that very same lesson." ​

Behind her, enraged by the maddening effects of Thule and Zal's sorcery and hungry for the flesh of Valery Noble, hundreds of hunting Pelko Bugs skittered and churned out from the porous wreckage, obscured by the dust and shadows of collapse.
​

 

[Darth Nwul]

For a moment, as the ritual ran its final course through the room and his allies suffered from the repercussions, Nwul felt truly powerless. His body was so weak from being the center-focus of the ritual that he wondered if he'd completely loss use of his limbs. He lay on his side, his chest heaving slow, uneaven breaths, his eyes which still had some remnants of their sclera, were beginning to cloud over. His robes were tattered, his bare chest exposed for all to see. The myriad tattoos, scars, and wounds had been burned away. Only picture perfect skin remained.

Nwul had only just caught his breath when his mind began to work, and the real pain began. It wasn't something that was directly causitive from the ritual. Not something his allies would experience. It was a new hell all his own. He gasped, had there been a mistake? Pain bloomed in his mind like a supernova, he saw stars, the feeling of knives digging into his skull and piercing his brain a thousand times over caused his teeth to jerk shut and blood to pour once again from his nose. He curled up on the ground, grunting in pain as Valery entered the room.

He couldn't even say hello.

Outside the Assembly Hall, the storm had turned into a windless hurricane. A torrent of black water falling from the sky and pushing the restoration of the planet forward with maddened abandon. A veritable sea of specters were now crashing into the barrier, shrieking and dissolving into mist as they were pulverized, their souls, memories, experiences, and everything that they were converted into fuel for the continuing spell or crammed into Nwul's skull. The temperature increase from the ritual stabilized, while it was still stifilingly hot, the intensity had diminished a bit from before. Thule was becoming a tropical world.

Back inside, Nwul coughed and struggled, before Thule he had consumed the memories of only a thousand at most. That had taken months of meditation to fully digest and pull under control. It had worked at his psyche, and he knew he was more erratic than he had been before he'd begun leaning on his ability to consume. Now? There was no other way of putting it. Millions of lifetimes were pouring into his head without an ounce of sympathy for the pain it caused him. Memories of Jedi Masters, their padawans, civilians, soldiers, sith acolytes, lords, heroes, villains, they all slammed into him without stopping. He jerked and siezed, letting out a gasp as a pair of priests hurried to retrieve him and get him away from the coming battle between Valery Noble and Darth Caedes .

Nwul had to concentrate, his mind completely separate from the moment. He needed a way to offset this, or if not, figure out how to process it. Process it? His trembling, convulsing body stiffened as the thought hit him. His fingers twitched, the Ring of Sorzus Syn on his finger gleaming. How rarely he used it. Then another convulsion hit him, his body wracked with the pain. He bent his mind to the task, a new work of sith sorcery already forming in his mind. He needed to make use of the excess resources left behind by the ritual. He hadn't accounted for the leftovers!

His body jerked again, but this time he was pulled up and then flung into the air. His body out of his control as it hurtled towards the ceiling in the center of the chamber. His head jerked upwards and his eyes flashed open, the sclera melting away until all that was left was liquid gold. The veins of golden light beneath his skin burned again until they were spread down to his waist, his fingers twitching in the silent spellwork. Even then, the pain kept coming, endless, he turned it into fuel without a second thought.

Outside the Assembly Hall, the cloud of mist leftover from the destruction of the specters began to coalesce, it took a moment, but one managed to bcome almost solid, taking on a humanoid form. It was tall, thin, it's body seemingly made from mist. Cloth wrappings weaved their way around it's body, giving some definition to its unclear shape. This firstborn abomination born from the leftovers of the ritual raised its head to the sky and spoke, "Jensaa." It rasped, "We are one with the father," It's whispery sing-song voice called out.

Soon, another Jensaa took shape. Then another, and another.

Meanwhile, within the Assembly Hall, Nwul's mind was beginning feel the pressure easing. It was as if his mind had more processing power to handle it even as more and more memories crammed inside his head. Clarity was coming, soon, his mind would be free enough to help...

---

ROUND 5 CONDITIONS (10/1/23)

• The intensity of the dark side has now stabilized. Thule is a Dark Side aligned world now. Plants are continuing to grow taller as the world becomes a humid, hot, jungle planet.
• The enormous disturbance in the force beneath the planets surface is building up even more... ooc, the disturbance in the force can be ignored by whomever wants it to, but for those effected, the experience is traumatic for unprotected non-darksiders, corruption, mental illness, or any other maladies can come from it if you'd like. Feel free to use this as a plot hook for later!
• The Specters have abandoned their pursuit of the living and are being destroyed by the ritual.
• Civilians are fully retreating!
• Nwul is fully focused on ofsetting the side effects of the ritual. He is creating the Jensaa as a side effect. https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/jensaa.176026/
• Nwul will recover on round Six!

 

[Liam Nargon]

Location: Outside of the Last City, Thule
Equipmeint: Nargon Holocron, lightsaber, Fur-line coat
Tags: Shasill Kaarte

On his third backwards step from following the Force aided leap, Liam noticed a pain in his left leg. As the adrenaline spike of the jump wore off, he also noted the smell of burnt fabric, and perhaps flesh as well. The young Jedi had not cleared his opponent by as much as he thought it appeared. What was worse was that Liam couldn’t turn pain into usable energy the way the Sith could. And he couldn’t let his opponent see his weakness or that might serve to feed into the Sith’s advantage as well.

As Liam struggled with how to best handle the situation the Sith made his next move. Something told the Sith that he had the advantage. What that was, Liam wasn’t sure. But the Sith pushed forward. Liam stopped his backward movements, knowing that he would need all his focus forward if he was going to continue to fight off the Sith’s attacks. As Liam raised his blade to meet that of the Sith he heard a loud pop and felt as though he was floating in air. Darkness took the Padawan before his body hit the ground.

---

”Mom?” Liam called out. He wasn’t sure where he was. Everything around him was a blur, or clouds, maybe space. Nothing would focus. Except for one thing. A face that was present in the last vision he had. The last remembered vision of his mother. A vision that he had pressed down into the depths of his mind. He hadn’t truly believed that his mother had abandoned him the way that his father claimed. But he always questioned why she had never tried to find him. It wasn’t like Liam’s father was a master sneak who blended in with the rest of the galaxy. He was a drunken Force-sensitive thug always looking for the next payday.

”Did you really believe I was dead? I’m so sorry for being angry with you all this time,” Liam sobbed as he spoke to the image of his mother. ”I always knew it was Dad’s fault I wasn’t with you, but I thought for sure you would come and get me. And you never did. Now I know why.”

”Your disappearance crushed me, my darling boy,” the vision expressed with a sob of her own. ”I was lost for so long. I knew that my time with your father was a mistake. But it gave me you. Then he took that as well…” she gave a deep sigh. ”In the real world I still don’t know you are alive. I still won’t find you. But know that I am better now. I have found a man of true love. You have a little sister. When you get out of this you should find us.”

His mother approached with her arms open to give Liam a hug. Liam took a step towards her. ”We’re on…” before they could meet in an embrace or his mother could tell Liam where she was, an orange lightsaber blade pierced his mother’s throat and a laughing image of Liam’s father stepped out of the mists of this dreamplace.

”Damn Schutta thought she could get you back,” the image of Naren Cors spat out in anger as the image of Liam’s mother slumped lifelessly. ”So, changed your name, ran away and still I’m able to bring you down to your knees huh boy?”

Liam growled and found his lightsaber still to be in his hand. The blade of Liam’s lightsaber sprang to life and he lunged towards his father. A furious battle of two less than expert swordsmen ensued. Liam as the aggressor and fueled by anger and hatred.