Something Dark this way comes

[Zeahl]

There were horrors in the unknown. There are horrors in the unknown. There will always be horrors in the unknown.
— Unknown
​

The HoloNet. It was an electric source of information that swiped and spiralled it's deep-reaching fingertips throughout every twirl and formation of the galaxy. So long as a strike of electricity flickered the HoloNet was present. And few times did it buzz, few times did it make cracks and waves that all heard it's singular call. The news flooded, information passed and became stagnant. This? This was no different.

In other news, the Mining Corporation Deep Rigger has made headway with their newest machinery, a device that can be used to locate and identify Pocket's of Empty Space deep in a planet, this new Machine named Delve Patent Pending Has made some great headway so far and is theorized to be utilizable for military purposes of identifying anomalies in the earth as well as for Deep Water Reservoir's. Surely Big things for the Upcoming Mining Corporation.

This was the front-page story. The best Deep Rigger could do. It was a nothing article. Something forgotten. Except for a single key fact. Not from the article, but from a distance. A single crew person who bounced on some no-name Forum.

So what'd you see man?

Nothing! I told you, I felt it! I ain't no forcie man, but I felt it and whatever it was, it ain't right.
​

Well... What'd it feel like?

Like... Not indescribable... But... Not easy man? You ever felt something so hot to the touch it felt cold?
​

Yea man, like I got burnt this one time and it felt cold.

Yea. So like that. Just now imagine there are tentacles embracing your full body and eye's are watching you through your skin.

​

Wait what?

Chat closed.

​

Malignant energies focused and suckled in that cave, and deeper searching yet revealed the facts. They had dug too deep. The crew had mined down into the empty and sprawling cacophony of blinding thumps that crawled in the miasma of black. Miner's were going missing, food was being stolen and slowly madness was seeping into their minds. The crew person above was Tyler Fetch, a worker on the project who left shortly after they began digging deeper into the planet.

The Rumor mill was bubbling and boiling, a few claimed treasure and adventure, other's aired caution and even one voted the end of the world. Well... There's always one.​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

[member="Zeahl"] | [member="Qaheesh the Scorned"]​

The sense of the Darkside was enough to give the Sithling pause. She raised her hand, signaling to her mission partner, [member="Qaheesh the Scorned"], to halt as well.

Normally, she would bathe in the feel of it, let it wrap around her like a fur coat on Hoth. But something her whispered to her, something that let her know that this would be new, that this would be a first time.

"What do you sense?" she asked the Zabrak next to her before peering into the cave again.

Others had gone before them. Not now, not today, but many. Most did not return, and those that did reported horrible sights, terrifying things. These were not stories that could keep Scherezade away. She loved stories like that, and loved to investigate, to show that there was nothing there other than a group of hens quibbling about. But here, the horror was not contained to the cave. No. Food and other things outside of it were stolen as well.

With her previous government, Scherezade had often been the one to go forth and investigate such things. She had little choice on the matter. But now? Now, she signed up. It was a much needed break from other things that threatened to cloud her mind.

And if she could offer [member="Celiana"] a bit of help by taking on few hours worth of training for her acolyte, even better.

 

[Zeahl]

There was scurrying in that depth. The silhouette's of light were flicking on and off in the mining complex, the place was partially ransacked, weak barricades had been formed by the minors, and a number more were simply sticking it out in their pod homes they had setup. Darkness was consuming and reclaiming the underworld and panic followed it like warmth did a fresh hearth.

The scurrying grew louder like the sound of thunder approaching. The dark side soothed and drew it in, down in the cataclysmic pit. Down in the dark and murky depths eyes peered through the black and skulked back and fourth, the flickering of the lights giving movement to the creatures below, and as the red eyes grew in numbers in the gap in the mine... The air grew cold. And the light flickered again as the hole in the wall became festered with a few red and vile eyes. Rakghoul emerged with a cruel stride, their wretched calls provoking fear as they slowly slipped forward, their vision focused and pinpointed to a single being. Something that exuded far more than what their eternal hold held.
Rakghouls.

The vile and age old threat, a plague to the galaxy like the Sith. Crushed a million times yet always survived, and just like their creators, they survived in some black pit for an eternity and now had been released upon the world as a whole. Sixteen of the foul creatures emerged little physical difference between them as they began to ransack and have their way in the cave. Only three approached [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and her cohorts, a swing of violent fury as they came barring teeth and claw.

 

[Qaheesh the Scorned]

The Zabrak looked up at the woman beside her, those golden eyes narrowed in suspicion once more. The expression upon her face was flicking between that and resting b***h face the entire flight over, which was not unusual for the Sithling at all, let alone a normal expression for her people. She did not approve of being tossed about between people like a youngling and her Master would experience an earful later.

Still, an adventure was always nice. And with the leader of the faction she followed? Even better.

The sense of the Force made her pause and she lifted her gaze, inhaling deep in the murky light of the cave system they were in. A slight growl and jagged teeth are bared for a moment, before she answers [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. "The Dark Side is strong here," she states in that cold voice of hers. "A chill upon the wind. Wait... Movement ahead!"

A few steps forward is all she took before she was on guard, reaching for the double-sided blade at her side and igniting it, holding it horizontal and allowing the beams of crimson to escape and form a guard stance before her. The Rakghouls came and she let loose her own snarl, before she strikes out, letting her blade cut into one of the creatures, before side-stepping to avoid another!

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl Qaheesh the Scorned​

Qaheesh's inner feelings about being tossed about between people went entirely over Scherezade's head. She had not long ago resolved to stop thinking the way she had prior to the Agents of Chaos, to stop automatically believing that those who were around were so because they were made to and not because of any choice. Most of the time it helped. Most of the most of that time, she did it by forcing herself not look for all the little signs that would show her that she was right to be paranoid. It worked. Most of the time.

One nod was given to the assessment that the Force was strong there – a smile came to life on Scherezade's face when the movement ahead turned out to be grotesque things she knew were Rakghoul beasts. Her grandmother had plenty of memories of those creatures and from dealing with various empires before the Gulag wiped half the galaxy away.

Fifteen blades ran down her body and then floated into the air as she got combat-ready. This was it. Her blood was already singing the song of battle, the sweet tune that held no melody, notes, or rhythm that anyone aside for Scherezade could actually feel or hear. It was excited. It was ready. It had been two long.

In additional to her blades, two lightsabers were ignited as well, their green beam glowing alongside Scherezade's eyes, and a moment later she joined Qaheesh. Her fighting was all melee, all brutal and brute strength, and a lot of finesse from the blades in the air, moving by her bidding, sometimes together and sometimes apart. Unless the Rakghouls had special weapons, she hoped it would not be too long before not only the first three were terminated, but their buddies as well.

 

[Zeahl]

There was a cacophony of motion in the dingy light, the flickerings on and off, the whole ordeal became an epileptic fit as Lightsabers swung with cruel force and clean juts, blood was left frozen in place as the first of the Rakghouls was sleeved, it's joke of an arm mangled deep with an elongated cut that made it two forms that slipped and moved with muscular memory, twitching in writhed agony as the second Rakghoul slipped past from the dodge, it's claws and fangs bored down as it propelled accidentally towards the Dozen Bladed creature, impaled and left a diced mess where even muscles couldn't react. So far in the swings of passivity, two were dead but another fourteen remained.

The final creature did not back down.
​

It gave out a guttural call, long strands of sick saliva spewed forth against the duo as it's muscular form bounded towards the least armed of the duo hands moved with strange precision, going to grip the handles of the blade with rudimentary and primal instinct as it's mouth came down to horde the flesh of its predator saliva and spittle skewering fourth.

But those were three, the other thirteen were made busy, down in the distance screams and cries echoed there was no discrimination at the hands of the beasts, anything and everything with a heartbeat was being pilfered and dragged, their screams quickly silenced as the club like hands of some bashed skulls and made gorey paste, the long elongated fingers pierced brain matter through the ears like some sick kebab, and other's merely carried the heads between violent shaped teeth, the juice of eyes creating a sick display of marble in the disgusting display. And a few, dragged their prey back fresh, they moved back and deep into the cave system, two more Rakghoul's approached from the confines of the cavern. Their bodies were plated in makeshift armour, symbols engraved were cut and sheared off with vile finger's, and displays of recent blasters were caught and infused into their flesh. They gave out a grumble but did not escape the cave, their forms a little distance in the black as they waited like tarantulas in their web.

Qaheesh the Scorned | Scherezade deWinter ​

 

[Qaheesh the Scorned]

Another flash came from her sabre and Qaheesh spun, taking the Rakghoul coming at her down with a flurry of her blade. Another came from the side, only to impaled by the crimson sword through it's pathetic neck. Her eyes instinctively looked for Scherezade, seeking her safety, but the Bloodhound was fine. After all, one does not lead an order of chaotic beings without some form of power, no? A smirk comes to her lips as the others retreated, though she did not let up her guard.

"Shall we proceed?" she asks, her voice cool but filled with the bloodlust of a true Zabrak.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl Qaheesh the Scorned​

It was indeed not too long before they were taken care of; despite her family and what it meant to be a woman among them, Scherezade was a Warrior and not a Sorceress; fields of battle were her home, and combat was like fresh air to her. Her weapons sliced through and the battle resumed until she and Quaheesh defeated the monsters that had stood in their way.

But they were not done.

Scherezade looked deeper into the cave, trying to understand what the beasts there were doing. Some had gone? Some had moved? Others stayed? "I have a bad feeling about it," she delivered the requested one liner, her glowing green eyes giving the smallest of touches of illumination to the cave.

Still, they had to press forward. And forward did they press.

Scherezade's fifteen blades still swirled around her, flying in different formations and shapes, their pointy ends sometimes looking forward and sometimes to the sides. Most of the time, they formed a barrier between the two women and the rest; if something wanted to come through, they would find it hard to do without getting at minimum cut.

"Everything in me wants to touch the walls of the cave and bring it completely down," she admitted, her voice just above a whisper as the two made their way to the edge they could see, "I hate rakhouls. Their blood is foul."

They were almost upon the grumbling ones.

Yet what lurked after that, in these caves?

 

[Zeahl]

The earth grumbled with foul intent, the duo of the makeshift guard's stepped a little deeper into the Shadows. The Dark side pulsated within the confines of the cavern and along the walls, something dark and hideous scrapped and crawled swishing and swimming between the cracks like some strange river that refused to bend to gravity, it coursed sediment upturned in the narrow ridges as the forms waited, sleeping along the walls with great patience.

It was in the confines. Deep. Black. No natural light radiated, the Rakghouls swarmed and moved like a great wave and seething mass of warped flesh, a delight of motion as the smell of fresh blood permeated around him. The creature in the centre of it all did not eat. It did not rest. It's fat and fetid fingers ran along with a dark pedestal, fingers gripping the intricate rockwork of a small coloured rock. Darkside fluctuated throughout the cave, the thing breed and bloomed with scarlet colour the mass given shapeless form as the tide moved and swayed, fingers dug into burrows along the walls as a creature stood upright, an unnatural height to it as it's one unnatural eye stared deep into the Pulsating Gemstone. From his feet, the tendrils formed, dragging and moving along the ground like vicious snakes.

His fingertips forged a blue flame, a whip snapped up dissecting itself and forming three long lengths as they dragged out three Rakghouls that cawed and kicked like puppies, their forms hung over the Etai crystal as it under shaded their body, their faces vanishing into the Dark as this creature's fingers forged articulate lines, the flesh was being reshaped, moulded and folded as the trio became a singular massive form, a thick carapace shield skull formed arms made into springs along it as a new breed of Rakghoulw as forged atop the crystal, the fiery blue flames dropped the beast as words spoken in ancient edicts was declared, the beast a hulking monstrosity hedged forward with struggle, it's new shape and form a nightmare of motion. as it headed upwards through the spiral.

The guard Duo took a step forward as they braced closer, the darkness slithered. Inches turned to centimetres, to millimetres, to micrometres... Than snap. The vine-like works of force and shadow snapped forward aiming to sever leg from form as the Duo Guard's moved with failed grace, the Vine-work making special care to avoid and move out from their way as claws formed to sweep the chest of the approaching duo with hanging jaws that still stunk from their old quarry.

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Scherezade deWinter | Qaheesh the Scorned
--------------------​

 

[Qaheesh the Scorned]

Indeed, the bad feeling was mutual and Qaheesh nodded to the older woman beside her. "Indeed," she rumbles out, the Zabrak gritting her sharpened teeth at the darkness ahead. A gnashing of teeth, a twitch of her ears, but she pressed forward, each step slow and careful. She kept her sabre up, twisting it about and making the red light dance across the walls of the cave.

When Scherezade spoke about bringing the cave down upon the Rakghouls, the Zabrak couldn't help but agree, nodding her head to her companion. "Yes, this place... Despite the dark side bringing comfort, this is unnatural, unwelcoming here." A shiver comes, but the Sith keeps herself moving forward until they come to the deepest and darkest part of the shadows.

All of Qaheesh's training could not prepare her for this and she could not help but gasp out loud at the sight. The shadows came forth and struck out, causing the young Sith to raise her sabre and attempt to cut them down, swining the duo-blade in a whirlwind. "Watch out!" she called to her companion and fell back, resuming a defensive pose.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl Qaheesh the Scorned​

Everything beneath her skin prickled. Scherezade walked forward carefully, checking every step. The spell she had cast earlier let her see in the complete darkness without requiring a light source, but it wasn't really helping. As in, it was heling with the actual seeing part, but sometimes not seeing was the better option.

He and Qaheesh had never fought together before. For the briefest of moments, they would work individually and not together, as Qaheesh took a defensive stand but Scherezade darted forward, the Force Bubble rising around the two.

"You butthole!" she yelled as she moved back again.

This was not going to be an easy one. Scherezade could fight, could probably hold her own, but with the creeping heaviness of the wrong type of darkside sensation that she was feeling, she wasn't all too certain that staying here to fight was the smartest thing to do. Maybe… Maybe they needed to do something else.

"Cover me," she said quickly as she freed her hands and pressed them against the wall of the cave. It felt icky, and Scherezade tried to ignore the sensation. How much time would she have to work it? She wasn't certain. Probably not a lot.

The Sithling made the attempt to send the vibrations through the cave. To bring the ceiling down. The ground responded quickly, but Scherezade knew – it was far from being enough.

 

[Zeahl]

There was some strange ripple that he felt. The Rakghoul didn't notice, but from the dingy depths of his cave, he saw it, something strange. Foreign. Unnatural. A single shard of rock fell in the eyrie of black. The NekGhoul stared at it, watching it fade and roll, each bounce a sharp and radiating noise that sent a shiver down the core of the monster. For a moment, the magics dropped, the heaving and seething tendrils faded from existence the light of the red crystal faded as the Nekghouls monstrous hand was formed around the silhouette of Black, the dark tendrils, in their moment of weakness reformed through the cracks and edges of the lip of the cavern, seething back into form.

The twin Duo Guard pounced, their dangerous quarry was first, the Sithling who still brandished weapons was their target. They played a nasty game of Leapfrog, the first drawn a long slash motion with it's claws, aiming to sever the legs, the other a virile pounce from its body, it's form left loose in the air to catch the quarry from the air. And while they bounced, three tendrils came hurdling from the left side, their movements slowed, unfocused as if something controlling them had lost influence over their once far more rapid movements.

He moved with a determined stride, a few of the RakGhouls followed on instinct, most dragged and quarried their prey, far more focused on the fresh meat at hand than to go after new prey, and others were lazy, leaving themselves to a lackadaisical slumber in their hiding holes. The Crystal radiated power and darkness, an overwhelming feeling like a woman applying far too much perfume, it grew. It's sickening aura grew and drove deeper, the darkness at the lip of the cave blackened, becoming sickened by the dark presence that approached. The NekGhouls fingertips moved with brazen and untamed motion, a call to action stirring the power as it suckled at the Crystals latent energies.

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Scherezade deWinter | Qaheesh the Scorned
--------------------​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl​

It was working. She could feel the cave vibrating, little stones beginning to fall, dust coming down. She smiled, and poured more energy into it, strengthening her actions through the Force.

But it wasn't as simply as it ought to have been. She could feel it, the thickening darkness, trying to choke her from the inside. It wasn't the type of darkside that she belonged to, not the type of darkness she knew intimately well.

And still, more of the monsters continued to pour in. Scherezade let go of the wall, the shaking of the tunnels ceasing immediately, and she grabbed on to both of her lightsbers, letting her other fifteen blades rise into the air.

She would be ready. She would fight.

She would kill whatever was coming.

 

[Zeahl]

He... She... It emerged
​

Covered and warped by cruel coloured skin stretched and taunt along it's rippling muscles, it raised a hand quickly, and darkness sprayed fourth like pus from a wound. The world slowly warped and wrapped in darkness around Zheal as it's waves pulsated and consumed, the sound of scuttering in the darkness, the NekGhoul walked forward seeing through the perpetual darkness with the clarity of a telescope. He focused on his target.

The air grew cold. He stepped forward, his footsteps consumed by the sound of thunder, the very air sounded like a beast roaring, as if you had already been caught in it's mouth. Zheal lunged forward, a series of RakGhoul following in his step as with a closed fist and bared fangs he went in for the kill. Whatever it was that freed it, whatever it was that collapsed what kept him from reality. He would kill it. He could feel it. They were one in the same yet different.

He stepped forward in the darkness, a few feet away and threw his first bludgeoned fist against their skull.
Scherezade deWinter ​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl​

The rest of her blades slid off her body, coming off from on top of her armor and places that until a second ago had been hidden to the sight. Something was coming for her and she was now alone, but she could handle a group of fighters. Or at least, she hoped she could handle this. Everything about this was different than so many other things she'd been through or done.

The drop in temperature helped her focus, as she moved aside, narrowly avoiding the punch that would have otherwise landed right in the middle of her face, the Force guiding her as she moved one of her lightsabers to decapitate whatever the creature was that was in front of her, the other one slashing towards where the kneecaps ought to have been.

 

[Zeahl]

Whatever this thing was, it was fast. Faster than what Zeahl had expected, the last miners seemed clumsy in their motions, use to firing from a distance. This one was unique. It smelt wrong like him, it moved unnaturally like him and something was coming to skim it's face with it's strange shape. He felt the heat even as he ducked beneath it, the clear crackle of skin against heat, but smelling old and burnt. He growled, words mumbled in ancient sith as it took a shallow step back, the fronts of the knees oozed a forgotten substance. He forget what it was like to bleed. He remembered he didn't enjoy it. He realized. He didn't enjoy it.

He slipped a little, flinging his forearm sideways to crack them in their face for a second attempt, his other free hand seemed to pulsate, the unnatural darkness slowly slipping away his form finally becoming more fleshed out. Mostly, it was naked. It's flesh seemed to bulge a little too aggressively from his body, a warped face and a mouth that seemed to drop and droll with chunks of little too old flesh. His other hand became clear and bright, bright blue fire formed and tangated into reality, popping and unfocused as the battle fervour took him in full swing, his cut knee ignoring the pain to come and strike them in the gut.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl​

Her attack had landed, slowing her enemy down for a fraction of a moment. Scherezade prepared to attack him again, this time trying to split whatever he was into two, but something gave her pause.

He was… Changing. The darkness around them was lessening and she blinked, confused in the moment. For seven centuries and then years more, she'd been trapped in Darkness. She had never seen it do anything like that.

The creature slipped a little and she took a defensive stand, but now that he was beginning to form…

Watching it, looking at it, distracted Scherezade enough to be hit in the guts. An oomph sound came out of her as she flew back, smashing into the wall behind her. She landed on her feet, her fifteen blades, still in the air, all coming to decorate the creature like a porcupine as she moved forward again, this time aiming with her lightsabers for what appeared to be the neck.

 

[Zeahl]

The blue fire erupted from his fingertips. He forgot that the blades still hovered, distracted by the short given victory. He brought a free hand to his face, drawn along the crackled skin. He could fill the bubbles quickly filled, and quickly popping as the sensitive boils couldn't handle his less than soft touch. He gave a long growl, taking a few steps forward, the fire seemed to engulf, cutting and sizzling at his wounds. It wasn't a great solution. Hell, it wasn't a solution. But the eerie haze of blue storming from his legs, the mass of muscle and flesh. It gave him life. It gave him form. In the recesses of it's mind it remembered an old lesson.

Horror. Was a tool of war.
​

It marched forward, the tendrils of flame licked and freed themselves around him. They were whips and he turned corpses into slaves. Rakghoul body parts, dead strips of miners. It was gunning straight for this strange creature. This woman. It's fist clenched, it made a bolt and beeline straight for them, throwing body pieces and corpses at the sabers to try and slow it down. It was a beast with a single attack. A single plan. Attack.

Scherezade deWinter ​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Zeahl​

Oh nah-uh! Scherezade wasn't about to deal on her own with a bunch of undead creatures, especially not when they seemed to all keep coming for her in this creepy place. She called the blades back to her as she jumped backwards, putting some distance between her and the main creature, the one with the flames that seemed to heal him.

For a split of a moment, she wished she had a touch of Lightside to her. Something like that would've made this fight easier, though she knew that doing it would hurt her herself as well considering what she was.

When she had a few feet between her and it, Scherezade raised her arm, bringing down the ceiling of the came crashing on all those who were behind him. It wasn't enough to catch 'em all, but it would at least dwindle the numbers to something more manageable.

Grinning, she continued to inch backwards, more and more, towards the exit of the cave, beckoning mr. creepy to follow her. Only another minute or two, and they would all be bathed in sunlight. Hopefully, the creature hated sunlight.

 

[Zeahl]

The world it had known. The world it had only ever seen in the recesses of the dark had cracked, the horror was unknown, rivaled by seeing the very sky itself crumple and slink closer and closer. Corpses were caught in the sinking tide of stone and rock, the feeling of oppression weighed down on the creature as a sliver of earth fell and cracked open on it's head like an egg to a hard edge. Zheal groaned and shook it off, the wild fervour, the dedication and the passion of the attack and wild swing's still following through.

It's attacks were missing though, some dedicated prowess of movement kept him just that inch away, rage flared in it's lack of eyes, malveolant energies licked and lapped at it's frustration as it's concentration slipped, dancing puppets fell to the ground limp as explosions of fire erupted from it's body, black tendril's rose and caressed in empty swings. It couldn't even feel as something foreign grew in the distance.

Scherezade deWinter​