Sorcerer Campaign: Codex Fragment Hunting (Fringe PM to Enter)

[Yasha Cadera]

Nihil Retreat
Perann Nebula - Open Space
Seemed like a fantastic idea when I woke up with it the other night, chilling at @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s Penthouse after our drink-fest and I'd heard down the grapevine that the Sorcerers of Rhand were our next concern. This idea that seemed good? Grab a ship with guns on it, a couple of powerhouses and little empath me and try to find a piece or two of their Sorcerer Codex. By find I mean steal. By steal I mean get out of the Perann Nebula alive. I ease up on the yoke in the Pilot's chair and check over the calculations for hyperspace before punching in for the Nihil Retreat itself. "I'm reading distortions in the space ahead, confirm navcom."

"There is a Point-Oh-Four-Niner fluctuation in gamma radiation directly within the chosen flight path indicative of a pulsing quasar. Recommend bypass for humanoid survival." the navcom drones, its AI barely a step above genius calculator and I shake my head, running my hand through the dark blonde locks which end around my chin. "I see it on readout. Course correction three-point-six degrees to our Six- yep. Now arc us back up after that mo-is-is that… on the star chart, I'm reading planetary levels of debris and now that I think about tit, that's probably exactly what it is, so we're going to slam a stop on that and reroute. Re-calculate." What, like going into hyperspace to a place nearly cacophonous with destruction and debris is as easy as pushing a big red button? I flip on the ship's comm, "Attention passengers, this is your friendly neighbourhood pilot speaking, I'm routing our hyperspace route so we end up in one piece on the other end and it'll take another ten minutes. Please have all your gear and yourselves stowed by then for our prosperous and adventurous trip to an aforementioned habitable moon with a bunch of ruins rebuilt on top of other ruins. Should find treasure. Ought to be fun!"

I sigh and stand up from the pilot's chair to walk around a bit and check on the rest of the Team. Need more than an empathic healer to pull this shindig off. Besides, I fly good. I fly real good! I fly so good I ought to say, not have to… fight…

Wonder what the others are up to?
OOC: Fringers, PM for interest in here! Adventure! Intrigue! Finding/Stealing a fragment of the Taurannik Codex! Below is a list of Fringers who voiced interest RE: The Sorcerer Campaign, join if you feel it, if not, cool beans! @[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Jared Ovmar"] @[member="Darth Vornskr"] @[member="Lucien Cordel"] @[member="Moira Skaldi"] @[member="Helios Kingpriest"] @[member="Kitt Solo"] @[member="Chupa La'Roi"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien had ordered two of his bodyguards to reserve him a cabin. They had delivered he smiled when he saw it spacious enough and it was fairly blood stain free he strolled over and sat in a plush chair "Holopad" He ordered it was placed into his outstretched hand he nodded, This was as close to a thank you as his staff would get today, he loaded up the news. He frowned when it was announced that the plotting of the hyperspace Jump would take around ten minutes. He envisioned great boredom on this journey and could only hope that someone interesting was also on board.

"M'lord" A gaurd mumbled. Lucien looked up "Yes?" He said rather more aggressively than intended "Mr. Sivas is walking around he is coming this way" Lucius smirked "Scared Captain?" He stood up not waiting for an answer and walked from the room, He approached anders with a warm smile "Counselor, You will be ... disappointed to learn that my wife isn't here ... shame you two get along very well" He let the smile drop and he stepped aside "I trust you are in the middle of important work ... I will allow you to get on with it " Then he walked back to his room and returned to the news.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The sweet chill of @[member="Lucien Cordel"] has become a sort of cool-down for my hot Naboo blood. Second I feel that man's on board, I get the heebie-jeebies but this time around? Truth be I'm glad the man is here. Lucien and I have our differences, okay so I slept with his wife - ah! Before she was his wife! But when one is crossing into dangerous space into the den of a bunch of cray-cray Sorcerers hell-bent on destroying everything in a post-apocalyptic fireball, it helps to have a man like Lucien around. One who can keep his head.

As I pass by his cabin, I put on my Dashing Smile and wave. "Lord Cordel. Excellent to have you on this pleasure cruise." I don't need my empathy to feel the icy chill of his distain, but it helps round out the salty and sour flavour. "Yeah, don't think the Lady Cordel would go for the potential antagonizing of a cruel and heartless enemy. Nor would you go for endangering your wife. I'm free till my calculations are done rendering, so I'm being a good Pilot and making sure everyone's comfy. Did you get the complimentary chocolate mints I left on your pillows?"

What's it going to take to feel the love from this guy? Then again, why would I want to and when his own servants are terrified of him, what's that say about his leadership style? Suddenly I'm very glad Jared's here. He's got my back. I nod and wave, pivoting on my foot I shove a hand in my hair and look on the man with mercy. Any antagonism I get from him is deserved. A man should feel safe in the love of his wife. He should feel it's a bastion away from any outside influence, his personal salvation. "Lucien, you do know what Meret and I had… it all happened and ended before she started dating you. I'm not sticking around to steal anyone's wife, I get lucky and have great exes, but that's what they are. Exes. I'm here to make sure everyone gets what they want and goes home. You too. Hope that means something to you." I tap my palm on the hull plating in the hallway and swivel back around on my pivoting feet to check on the other passengers.

"I'm off to check on the others. About seven minutes and we're blasting out, it might get a bit bumpy when we hit the hyperspace wall by the Nebula. I'm reading funky levels of flak wherever we go on entry." I walk past one of our ship's compliment of soldiers and clap him on the shoulder. "Hi, Phil. Your shin's feeling better I see! Glad you used all the salve. I've got more in my quarters, come grab me when you need it."

"Aw thanks, man! I went for a run yesterday, it was great!" Phil the soldier says as he continues his walk by, saluting at the Lord Cordel before continuing on to his Barrack.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

A fellow empath was onboard, albeit not a doctor.

Empath slash bounty hunter.

Head whipped up as she felt Anders approach before she saw him. A smile curled at the corners of her lips. The dude’s aura was like a ball of pulsing joy; he reminded her of how a Nabooian puppy would feel. Standing from her kneeling position on the deck-plating she gave a mock salute to her fellow council member.

“Sivas, good to see you walking around in one piece still.” Who didn’t know about the unspoken tension between Anders and Lucien after that night? Duh, everybody knew.

“I’m glad we actually get a medic this time.” She winked and knelt back down to rummage through the weapons bag at her feet.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The energy of empathy is a physical stirring for the atmospheric miasma, a series of gas pockets in the pristine void of the starry night sky. When one empath is in a place, the weight of a collection of consciousnesses could feel like an insurmountable hill. When there's two of us? I feel the pressure siphon off and trot up toward @[member="Kitt Solo"]. "A joy to behold every day. Heck, got to make every day count, right? Might be my last." I laugh albeit nervously, and sidestep to lean against the hull wall. "Makes two of us. Maybe even three or four by the time we're halfway through this adventure. The gladness will spread with lack of gangrene and… blood back in people? Wow, my one-liners need serious work."

Maybe Lucien's got me more edgy then I thought… Nah! The woman seems to have the Lion's Share of weapons in her bag, and my eyes balk. "Brought enough to fend off a small garrison? Or was this the weapons bag that takes down armies? I can never remember which goes with your boots. Hah. Some humour before we get zipping off… Good Goddess, Solo that's a lot."

Suddenly my weapon-less appearance feels dainty and fit to have a tea party and nothing else. Maybe I should blaster up…. yep. Definitely.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

A lopsided grin tugged at her lips as she shot Sivas a sideways glance at his rambling self. "Yeah, Anders. It's a lot. Reports say we're going up against some pretty bad mamma-jammas. Might wanna think about getting yourself some firepower. Wait."

Reaching into the bag she dug out a blaster and tossed it up to the doctor. "Try that one." The ship shuddered and she hoped it was a sign they were almost there and not something worse. Uggh, she hated flying.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"I'd pull out the pacifist paramedic thing, but I find making sure the other guys aren't firing wildly at my patients tends to help the survival rate. They're bad mamas, I want to get a good into their minds. Figure what this 'The Dark' they believe in is. Figure it's worth the personal risk to pull an Empathic trick or two in on the blighters. Gonna have my back, Kitt?" I laugh and keep my shoulders light, but the thought that this is the worst idea I've had, that this is reckless, dangerous, immoral and plain limiting of my personal lifespan is coming back in droves. It'll be better when my Hyperspace calcs are finished and we're en route. Distance over time, velocity is the ultimate clarity.

Wonder what @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s thinking about his drinking buddy coming up with this Hail Mary?

I catch the blaster and check the ener-mag and safety, giving it a once-over and feeling the weight of it aimed at the wall in my hand. "Will this fit in a shoulder holster? Think it might. Thanks, I'll make sure you get it back in the end. One piece and all…" I feel sick, like the constitution of my stomach isn't going to take much more of the flight. That's… that's not me. I don't get space-sick, I love flying. Shoving my hand into my pocket, I bring out a small thumb-sized tin and toss it at Kitt. Never do know where these sensations are coming from, haven't learned to pin-point but I have learned that an educated guess goes a long way. And when it doesn't? Not usually much harm done. "Mind holding onto these for me? Herbal mixture I got from a spacer. His wife was pregnant and I was playing Midwife in Deep Space. She got mighty morning sickness and this cleared it up with one of those under the tongue. My… pocket's getting full. Thanks." I smirk and shove the blaster in my deep cargo pocket and point backward with my thumb. "We're about to hit Hyperspace, the ride should be smooth till we get close to the Nebula, then expect turbulence. There's some funky interference coming from debris and radiation so, no promises on a smooth re-entry post-jump."

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

A brown robed figure strode down the corridors of the Fringe ship. He wore an unsettling mask to hide his burnt features and carried no weapons to speak of. The Prophet of Moross came on the Fringe mission to spread the word of the Aesir. Although he had other motives well pleasing in the sight of Liad. The hooded remnants of a man came to a stop before @[member="Anders Sivas"] and @[member="Kitt Solo"]. He looked between them slowly, but uttered not a word. Waiting. Watching. Always.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Anders Sivas"], @[member="Kitt Solo"], @[member="Anaudius"],

In a corner of the ship sat Moira Skaldi, heavily armoured and fully kitted out; at her side a MK1 boltgun and a Viscera scatter gun. Spiralling vibroblade bayonet, fragmentation superacid rounds mixed with standard eight-gauge scatter shot. Two guns that represented the height of extreme and possibly pointless brutality, along with plenty of explosives. Just the sort of thing one would give a human replica droid for Building Day if it was into celebrating that sort of thing. Or celebrating anything really. Presumably celebration equalled terminating hostiles in brutal ways or causing explosions, that is if it had possessed a mechanical heart capable of leaping with joy. A Lightbringer Sensor Node to aid in detecting forcers at close range was a more utilitarian part of the package, courtesy of Silk Holdings.

She watched the exchange between Kitt and Anders but did not comment, she was not one for words and socialising unless her function required it. Rather she had been going over what intel she had on the Codex they sought to find and on the Sorcerers of Rhand. An interesting group of organic cultists to say the least, strangely rationally in their exaltation of chaos and destruction. Of course there was no metaphysical power guiding everything, but existence was fleeting, only destruction was eternal, the endless process of neverending conflict between organics that rebelled against all attempts to create 'peace and understanding' or something similarly unnatural.

Recovering a piece of the Sorcerer Codex would be profitable, testing oneself against the Sorcerers a welcome challenge. After all, force-users were the most dangerous organic opponents of the Age of Steel, thus any test against those who wielded the mystical power that Moira barely understood and probably never would entirely, was welcome. Cold eyes followed the brown robed Moross Prophet as he strode through the corridor, but she made no comment. Not being inclined to small talk, Moira could appreciate his silence. Likewise if he had an agenda of his own, for everyone did.

 

[Kitt Solo]

She caught the herbal mixture, a knowing look passing across her gaze. “Thanks Sivas. I’ll get this back to you minus one piece.” She winked. She could appreciate that he knew how she felt because that’s how she felt about others almost all the time. Thank the stars for emotional barriers for those other times.

“Hey you,” she nodded, feeling the mysteriously ominous presence of the masked man before he approached. “Wanna make yourself useful and help me clean these slugs?” She offered @[member="Anaudius"] a chamber. “Name’s Kitt Solo. Don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Respectful gaze noted the presence of the killer machine in the corner.

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Arage Bao]

While the action was happening in another part of the ship, Jared was busy lounging in the cockpit. Andr-- Anders had wanted to go and check out the crew, feel the pulse of the crowd so to speak and he was alright with that. At least he could spent some more time on relaxing a bit, before he would have to go back to running and crouching against DarkSense-wielding OP-characters. There was only one good thing about this mission and that was the fact that they were NPC, not that Jared had any knowledge about that.

For him this was a run in the mill dangerous mission, with a high probability of dying. Though those were the best missions, so he was perfectly fine with it. What do you say when Death comes knocking? Not today.

While waiting for Anders to return he started singing along with a song, not that there was anything playing. But in his head there was a whole damn orchestra busy, some kind of popular holomovie theme song. Jared had never pretended to be a hipster.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"My pockets're still pretty full. Might need to hold onto them till we get back to Annaj, eh?" I wink and stuff my hands in those same 'full' pockets, nodding to @[member="Anaudius"], who gives me an odd sort of comfort. At least unlike me, many of the people here are no strangers to Darkness. "Ma'am." I say to @[member="Moira Skaldi"], hoping I don't ever have to treat anyone whose been struck by her weaponry. As a chime sounds on my chrono, I extricate myself back to the safety of the two-man cockpit.

And once the doors close, I relax. This is the man I'm most glad on seeing in the universe. "Jared." My voice softens a hitch, or more accurately I lose my jittering nervousness and settle in my skin. His hums hit my skin and I thrill up my spine. Maybe not all the nervousness of this impending death fest is gone. My hand touches his shoulder as I pass by, hitching into my pilot seat, I punch the hyperspace drive into its countdown with one last check of the coordinates.

"Hyperspace in 3…2….1…. Ladies and Gentlemen, our next stop is a deadly, deadly moon barrelling around a corpsified carcass of a planet the Sorcerers of Rhand destroyed and left dangling in pieces. Expect, as you all are, there to be a welcoming party who might want to make our heads explode. Thank you for flying Space Sivas." The comm I flick off and swivel my chair around to watch @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s shifting face. "I've got your back out there, for what it's worth." I pull the blaster @[member="Kitt Solo"] gave me out of my deep cargo pocket and rustle in my knapsack for a shoulder holster. Once the holster is strapped across my chest, I check the blaster again, pointing my eye down the site to familiarize.

"Thanks for coming. Don't know what to expect out there, but I know my plan. Get in its head. Consciousness. Embodiment. Spirit. Thing… am I being stupid?" Who would I rather go on my first deadly, deadly mission with, than my Coruscanti Avenger?

Onward we veer through Hyperspace toward our designation.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Spoiler

OOC: Alright group, here we go hang on tight! Have fun and adventure, and go with the flow.
Any exposition/plot will be put in blue italics to better differentiate these posts from Ander's 1st Person Narration.

The Hyperspace corridor shuddered. Streaming horizontal lines of stars sunk and twisted as the ship veered closer to Anders' calculated target of the Perann Nebula's far core. The space outside the ship's viewport began to drain of stellar blues and ivory for the sickly spillage of crimsons and orange. Shuddering out of Hyperspace, the ship was immediately beset by chunks of debris. Destruction's Children, the massive husks of once active cosmic entities was spilled across the limp and cacophonous space of the Nebula. An orange glowing star hung suspended in the gloom, the lifeblood of its temper and exothermic nature draining through its Main Sequence toward a violent and ominous disaster. The ship flew onward toward a planetary cluster, a large purple-and-tan-tinted Gas Giant spinning in a maniacal tempest of whorls, streaks and crashing cloud-forms. Orbiting this beast of a world was a moon comprised of a mineral composite which shone blue upon approach. Upon descent approach, it could be seen the surface roiled and washed seemingly of its own accord.

I choke up on the engines and hitch to manual yoke control. Streaks of debris spread like raindrops frozen by an arthritic hand which grew tired of motion. Clicking on the comm, I announce arrival to our crew, "Ah, that star's reading five times standard galactic solar mass. To those of us who didn't master astrophysics, the likelihood of that star turning into a Pulsar is.. is… that star's a hand grenade without a pin. If the Sorcerers are predominating over this area of space, they've got to know that star's a hitch away from annihilation and seeding the Perann Nebula with enough deadly, deadly radiation to fuel a megaton of destruction.

Is anyone else feeling this would be the perfect vantage point to meditate on the destructive powers of the universe? To feed off its' energy? 'Cause I'm getting vibes. Expect turbulence as we hit the surface, wind speeds on the lunar surface are fast enough to take a speeder on a spin cycle. Sensors read a breathable atmo similar to being at high altitude. If you start feeling lightheaded, or seeing spots? Tell me immediately, please. I'd like us all to share a pint on the way home… you know, with all our bits. Sivas out."

On the final descent, the wind buffeting the ship is harsh enough to have me bracing myself and the yoke with my boot on the console, leg working with my straining (albeit piddly and weak muscles) to help me ease the landing without going sideways. "Release landing gear, prepare anchor clamps…"

The ship free falls the last fifteen feet and lands with a lurch. A creaking groan of metal splits across the ship, as the landing gear digs into the ground for purchase. The groan coincides with a rattling motion until finally the anchor clamps dug deep enough in. As the hangar bay door descends to the ground, the frothing winds flow into the ship, cutting and frigid. The lunar surface is marred from view by the violent gasses in the roiling storm, and great vents of cold steam jetting up from the atomically smooth ground.

Figures cut in and out of the shadows, streaking across the atmosphere with wailing howls and a chittering gnashing of teeth. One change in depth and colour can be seen to the west of the gangplank: a mire of darker colour calling out to be investigated. No distinct presence in the Force exists on the moon, in its place a decommissioning of any warmth or peaceful sentiment as if the very wind watched with passive interest to the usurper ship and its commanding inhabitants.

The instrument panel has lit up like fireflies in a summer sky, blazing klaxons and warnings telling me our mooring here is tentative at best. "Jared, we've got a couple hours at best before our restraint clamps get eaten up by whatever's in that wind." I set the ship to rights and set the R3 droid to watchman duty as I fasten up my thick wool coat and sling the shoulder holster overtop. Throwing my backpack medkit on, I turn to watch Jared's face. There's an eery quiet to the empathic imprint on this place, as if the emotions which built it are either too fast to be caught, or too fragmented and destroyed. It's producing a feral hum in my head, spreading across my forehead and down past my temples and the back of my skull. "Time to go, how do I look?" I mash my lips together, the muscles on my neck straining to suppress the shudders vaulting along my shoulders and spine.

@[member="Kitt Solo"] @[member="Moira Skaldi"] @[member="Anaudius"] @[member="Lucien Cordel"] @[member="Jared Ovmar"] @Anders Sivas

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien nodded slightly deep in thought perhaps Anders was telling the truth and Meret was only his ex. Lucien certainly couldn't sense any lies within him.He span his chair around to look out onto hyperspace putting the holopad aside the pattern the stars made as they sped by was quite invigorating he lifted his hand and coughed a wine glass was placed into his hand he smiled. He was not given wine however but water being drunk on a place like the one they were headed to would be most unhelpful.

"Captain have my valet prepare I will be in in a moment, You may dismiss the other staff and make preparation to land ... I sense we draw close"

The captain bowed low and hurried off they drew past the star close to explosion and this brought Lucien quite considerable energy he shuddered. That was something, he stood up walking into the bedroom of his chambers. He was changed out of his suit into something more appropriate. Thick gloves and Polished boots were pulled on followed by a long black over coat. a scarf was draped over his shoulders to protect his nose and mouth from sand.

He walked out to the gangplank a storm raged outside, he looked around to the soldiers he had brought he doubted if any would see home again he walked down the gangplank to stand beside Anders. He was asking how he looked, Lucien smiled.

"You look like a man about to march into almost certain Death ... If we get threw this I am willing to let bygones be bygones, deal?"

He spoke without turning to look at Anders his eyes were transfixed on the horizon. He gritted his teeth the emptiness unnerved him, it felt wrong somehow were was the overwhelming force the show of power to strike terror into the hearts of invaders ... It was unnatural. That did scare him, he did have a heart in his body all be it a small one and it was currently beating double time.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Anders Sivas"], @[member="Lucien Cordel"], @[member="Kitt Solo"], @[member="Anaudius"], @[member="Jared Ovmar"]

"I find myself liking these Sorcerers," Moira commented randomly when Anders Sivas elaborated that the star was pretty much a hand grenade without a pin and that it was a hitch away from annihilation.

She remained still as the ship went into freefall, lurching strongly and shuddered. Outside a powerful storm raged, like a tempest, such that one might mistake it for the thundering of a wrathful god. Below them as they touched down upon the ground lay a death world, a star doomed to be vaporised, bastion of powerful sorcerers who preached devastation and chaos. How fitting then for a construct like her to set foot upon it, to test herself against them should it come to that. Being a construct of durasteel and bolts, she could not sense the emptiness that might unnerve an organic, what she could not pick up with her sensors and with her mechanical eyes remained elusive to her, which was perhaps why she would never be fully able to understand that which organics called the Force. But nonetheless she was aware of the dangers.

So they would walk into the jaws of death or something similarly dramatic, hopefully well rather than boldly. Gathering weapons she emerged and joined Lucien and Anders down the gangplanks. "A most interesting world. I'm ready," she spoke calmly, unemotionally, eyes focused upon the horizon.

 

[Matreya]

Remaining hidden and silent for the duration of the flight, the Stealth Master had to wonder what was happening when the ship the group was on began to lurch towards the planet. Being on four legs, the Andolith warrior bore a better chance at not falling, thus was not surprised to find this the basic overall outcome.

As Kasamann slowly pushed himself away from the panel he had been gripping, he made his way from the ship. His tail swished and flickered, seemingly of its own accord, while his stalk eyes swiveled each which way to take in all swiftly. His voice boomed out, not intimidating but loud enough to be heard by all, <Check yourselves, make sure none have been murdered, then we need to move out to find a safe place to establish a base camp. From then we can work to make repairs.> Other than a few minor bruises along his torso and arms, the Andolith was unharmed.

@[member="Moira Skaldi"] @[member="Anders Sivas"], @[member="Lucien Cordel"], @[member="Kitt Solo"], @[member="Anaudius"], @[member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Arage Bao]

This world was grim and it filled him with dread, Jared had not even stepped outside the ship; but he knew already that they did not belong here. This place was home to people beyond their level of reasoning, the Force felt strange here... somehow wrong. Darker, twisted, it filled his eyes with shady outlines, shadows creeping up to him.

...and then he blinked and it was over. “What in the hell...” the thought came and went again, but before Jared had a chance to consider just how much they were karked; Andra asked him a question. His head snapped at her general direction and his eyes focused on her. For a while he just studied her, trying to recall what she had actually asked of him.

The words came from out of a blur, hearing them almost like when you try to see beneath the water.

“Beautiful, Extraordinary, Brave, Adventurous... did I say Beautiful already?” Calmly Jared raised himself out of his chair and walked over to her. His hand touched her shoulder for a quick second, before he straightened himself again. Sadly this was not a fanfic and they were in real danger, play would have to be reserved for another time.

“This will be like old times, I will save your nicely-formed backside and you throw encouragements at me. Or maybe this time.. you will do the ass-kicking, I have seen you train Andra. You are ready for this.”

 

[Kitt Solo]

@Kasamann @Anders Sivas, @Lucien Cordel, @[member="Moira Skaldi"], @Anaudius, @Jared Ovmar

She passed @[member="Moira Skaldi"] and harrumphed. "You would." Well-worn blaster was in her hand and an M2 bolter strapped to her hip. Weapons bag was slung snugly across her shoulders and back. Beyond the eeriness and uncertain read on emotions of the place and its inhabitants, she picked-up on a flicker of strong endearment between two people on-board.

The bounty hunter was a little too distracted to pin it down from the waves of nerves wafting off Lucien. Mentally, she began to put up the emotional walls around her empathy. In a place like this, it was the only way she would survive. Sivas was probably much stronger. Like being in the throws of Mikhail Shorn's grasp, she stepped out into the mist with the surge of adrenaline and danger pulling her forward, her steps almost hypnotized.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Jared lost in thought, and me with little to say. My lips tug upward as he speaks from a dream. Really, was I that good? 'Cause if so, I want a prize. "If I'm the one you're counting on to kick anything, we're screwed. I kick like a bullrush waving in a spring breeze. Keep mentioning my beauty, though. It's making me blush and in this cold that's a good thing… unless you want me to steal your jacket and then people will have ten thousand questions and I could kiss you. I really could." I tap my forehead with my knuckles and put the brightest grin I've got on my face for @[member="Jared Ovmar"]. Towing the line of androgyny is tough enough on a normal day, but with a bunch of Force Users and a mysteriously whistling wind outside, I pull deeper into Anders and sink my teeth into the persona. "I can think the enemy into a headache maybe? Here I thought my training was discrete… Wait…"

A voice in the rushing wind cascades through the cockpit and the ship with the wail of the gladly damned. My eyes yank open. Gives me the jeebies, but I could have sworn there was more to the voice than a disconsolate sound. Talking? A fragment of emotion. "Ow, what is that... Let's get to the others, love."

Outside with @[member="Lucien Cordel"] and the others, I glance Lucien up and down. There's a general sense of unease coming from some of the passengers, but it could have been my landing. I push my hands in my pockets to keep warm. "Music to my ears, you mean all I had to do was bring us to a deadly cauldron of sorcerer magic and The Dark and bygones would be made? Gee. I'd better not get beheaded by the wind. Deal." @[member="Moira Skaldi"] feels like nothing I've ever known. I'm getting empathetic offshoots from everybody (not that I can tell which emotions are which outside of clever guessing), but Moira. Feels wrong, I get empathic residue regardless, which means one thing: @[member="Moira Skaldi"] is an Epicanthix. She has to be, they're insensible by a telepathic mind. Feels better, figuring that out. Ho hum and all, I'll have to watch her closer in case she needs medical attention and I can't sense her pain. "Anybody see what that dark thing is in front of us? Looks like a building, let's go check it out."

I nearly have to yell to hear my own voice. "Hello, what's this? @[member="Kasamann"] We've got hours before the ship gets tossed like an old rag. Looks like there might be something solid over there." An orange form has appeared draped in the blue moon's cacophonous wind. It's bulbous at first, before two great eyes of yellow pour into being from the liquid of its miasma and its orange froth turns into a sort of maw. It's small at first, but enlarging fast. In the distant streaks of translucent wind, more dots begin to appear growing and receding. Spikes of mental chatter hit my cerebellum in odd intervals then die away, carried off before they strike and strike again thundering in my brain like pulses of sonar on a foreign ocean floor. "Ow." My hand pushes at my forehead, I shake my head and start walking into the blue. The wind's strong enough that I slide and scramble, bowing my shoulders over and throwing my arm in front of my face. Jared has faith I can do this, I can't let him down. Can't fail that man, and it sets a deeper shake in my bones.

The strikes begin to hit in pulses of white light and black void, nearly making me jolt. I wonder how the others are holding up, and whether they too can feel the empathic warning shots. Putting my shoulder to the worst of the wind, I continue forward hoping the complex isn't as far off as it feels.

There are beasts in the wind. The orange forms begin to fade in and out of existence closer and closer to the ship. As the landing party continues around the ship, or walks toward the dark blotch on the horizon, slices and bites lash at their bodies, their clothing then fade. The ground, smooth as undisturbed sheets of ice, quivers. Vast vats of cold steam crack open at inconstant intervals, freezing the air around them with a seeping distress. The complex grew clear and faded again in shreds of wind, guarded by inclement weather and an indelible urge to run.

There is neither sensible life, nor waves of the Force. Any mechanical scan or technological sensor left a void on the map, yet the wind was real, potent and cutting. With warbling shrieks, the orange maws launch their attacks on the Fringers.

@[member="Kasamann"] @Anders Sivas, @Lucien Cordel, @Moira Skaldihttp://starwarsrp.net/user/858-moira-skaldi/, @Anaudius, @Jared Ovmar, @[member="Kitt Solo"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Anaudius shot @[member="Kitt Solo"] a blank stare that spoke volumes more than words ever could. A priest of Liad would not stoop to such a remedial level. Or at least, such appeared his emotions on the surface. The truth was that Anaudius felt tendrils of fear seeping into his heart. These beings here did not know who his true nature. If they saw the mask, their kindness would turn to ashes. That fact left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet, he almost reached out. Almost attempted to help this woman clean the slugs. But he glimpsed his fingers, covered by gloves. Beneath that fabric they were burnt and blackened. More like claws than any human hand. The gloved hand drew back into the long, black sleeves of his robe. The follower of Liad looked away, lest Kitt catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Liad humiliated the strong. Just when one thought him or herself powerful in their physique or mental capacity, Liad would strike them down. He diseased both body and mind, but he could also heal. Why then did he neglect to heal Anaudius? Why did his burnt, scarred body hurt so? Anaudius retreated to a corner to smother his doubt in prayer.

Not long after, they arrived on the barren moon. Anaudius followed the others into the biting cold. Beneath his robes, what flesh that Disciple had left unburnt felt the sting of the weather. The Zealot trudged ahead. What could the god of nature bring against a body that had already been broken? A vent of cold steam erupted to Anaudius' left, nearly capturing him in its deadly vapors. Dark eyes narrowed beneath the mask. Twin balls of flame suddenly appeared around each of his hands, the red tongues rising high into the air seemingly unaffected by the cold. Pyrokinesis. The first of his abilities. The fires kept him and those near him warm, providing a light amidst the cutting winds.

Suddenly, orange maws appeared from out of nowhere. The Silent One remained where he stood, turning both palms toward the attackers. Twin streams of fire roared toward the orange maws and engulfed them in a small inferno. Behind the mask, Anaudius' burnt face cracked a smile. I am not the one who heals. I am the one who burns. I am the disease. I am... affliction.

@Kasamannhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/898-kasamann/ @Anders Sivas, @Lucien Cordel, @Moira Skaldi, @Jared Ovmar, @Kitt Solo