The Catacombs

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Old Republic tales of the ancient Religious Warrior Clan called the Slinani cause whispers to reignite among the CIS. The Zealots are said to have stored their relics and artifacts from long running conquests into shrines ever roaming about the Outer Rim Territories. Communing with their Minions, the Witches and Warlocks of the Mandragora have pinpointed the whereabouts of the shrine called the Red Mist. It's location is within the Hoth Asteroid Belt.

After having sent out probes into the vast Asteroid Field, and after months of searching, we have received numerous promising images detailing prospective locations of this famed roaming shrine.

The value of this find holds remarkable interest to the Mandragora because of the potential of artifacts to be useful for their magickal properties. It is anticipated the artifacts are worthy due to their acclaimed status as battle trophies of the Slinani Clan. We all know they are not meaning gold and Prik here. Bones of the conquered are an excellent tool for conjuring, and a Sorcerer(ess) loves their servants. Perhaps some weaponry long lost, dated Potions, or Grimoires coveted by the Slinani exist. The possibilities of quality findings are remarkable!

Danger lies ahead, as the ancient tales depict the catacombs themselves to harbor deadly trials, likely witchcraft instilled by the Slinani. While we all hope this is only spiders of mass destruction, we know better because of our unique secular training, that this is seldom the case. Although an unpleasantry it is that there shall indeed be spiders, encountering them will be just the tip of the iceberg.

The Knights Obsidian may encounter the unwelcoming members of this ancient clan thriving well here today, as there demise was never documented. How will their magickal skills match against those of the Mandragora?

Outer Rim Territories: Anoat/Hoth Asteroid Belt​

Days ago the Scimitar-Class Star Courier carrying the members of the Mandragora entered the Hoth Asteroid Belt and began seeking the ping of the exploratory probe. The Asteroid Belt took a pilot notorious for his quick reflexes. Once the Star Courier rounded the large asteroid, the Shrine of the Red Mist peaked over its horizon.

The Courier's computer sparked to life announcing,




Readings:

Detected:
Atmosphere
Classification: Type I/II

Scanning… … …
Terrestrial Bio-Dome
Renewable Energy Source: Solar

Detected:
Structure
Scanning… … …
Structure Height: 2,016.419 Meters
Repose Angle: Estimate: 40 Degrees
Base Diameter: Estimate: 7150 Meters

Detected:
Subterranean Cave
Mapping… … …
Mouth: Horizontal: 58.359 Meters, Vertical: 8.672 Meters
Subterranean Chasm: Artificial
Measurement: 18.606 Kilometers, Multidirectional

Detected: Artificial Markings
Origins: Unidentifiable
Suspected: Symbolic

Atmospheric Temperature: 73 Degrees
Humidity: 70%
Precipitation: Quadrant 4

Available Landing: Quadrant 2

Detected: Indigenous Life Forms
Quadrant 1… 2… 3…sublevel 4…sublevel 5…sublevel 6…

The Courier was taken down into an alcove to be safely kept until the Knights return.

Slinani Migration Shrine: Red Mist​

The Mistress Pom Stych Tivé could not deny feeling a sense of excitement over the possible discovery of a shrine. The Mandragora are charged with discovery and study of Magick and its relationship to the Force. Over the past few weeks she and a few others committed to research through history for a potential artifacts run. The details of the Slinani Migration Shrines peeked their interest. The only account that any outsider ever raided any of the Shrines was of the archaeologist Chelli Aphra who was said only to have escaped with the Farkiller Sniper Rifle. Only a Witch could comprehend the value of all else left behind as spoil.

She exited the Courier, a breather mask worn over her mouth. The data on her tablet identified that a bio-dome energy field long ago put into place as adequately holding. "Well here goes nothing." The witch looked up at the glistening of the bio-dome, before removing her mask. She took a few deep breaths. "Tolerable," she stated. The foliage around her appeared healthy and undisturbed.

"Tell the pilot to initiate the cloaking device. I get the eerie feeling those lifeforms are sentient," she called out into the hatch.

The sun from the Anoat System cast brightly across the large asteroid. Above their heads an endless stream of asteroids tossed about in what seemed like chaos. She watched a flame ignite from a plummeting rock stream across the field before reaching the bio-dome. "Let's go. Quickly," she urged, concluding that it had been blasted out of the sky by an unseen turret, because for it to have burned up naturally, isn't likely.

The entrance they are heading for is a natural crevice carved into a mountain-side. She could spot it from the landing. The sun did not appear reach into it. Pom shook her wrist and her wand appeared in her left hand, fashioned of the wood of an Uneti branch, impacted with Kyber Crystal dust, with a core of scales from The Sleeper, while she mentally prepared herself for whatever lay before them.

Welcome Mandragora, to the Catacombs!​

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[member="Áine"]
[member="Aisha"]
[member="Ashara Evanaris"]
[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]
[member="Hashim"]
[member="Madalena Antares"]
[member="Pom Stych Tivé"]
[member="Vytal Noctura"]

 

[Rience]

Location: Asteroid Surface, Anoat System​

Accompanying: [member="Aisha"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] + Open​

If I am to lead you, I must understand you.

The reality of Tanaab's aftermath was fresh on the Armored One's mind. In the wake of the turbulent struggle, a grievous blow had been struck against the Knighthood. Their leader - Elessar Talon - had found himself wounded beyond the point of service. No bacta nor healing would see the warrior rise again. And thus, the wintery warrior turned to Him. The moment yet weighed heavily upon the Lord Commander, who still was learning the depths of his responsibilities. He was to lead the Knights Obsidian, yes. But also, he had to provide. To shield them from the ire of politics. And above all, he had to understand. For a man who did not understand his fellows led nothing. Thus, one of Hashim's first acts as to fall in with a Mandragora expedition.

While he did not fully grasp the personal value the Witches and Warlocks placed upon the Shrine, he did understand that there was value. They cared enough that they would risk life and limb, traversing far beyond the nation's reach in order to seek out these lost treasures. Hashim, therefore, committed himself to seeing their mission through to the end. In him, they would find the strength of the mightiest Warden. Perhaps that would come in handy against whatever Hells awaited them upon the asteroid's surface. Descent gripped them soon and the Lord Commander donned his helm. His HUD indicated that the atmosphere was at least breathable, but Hashim did not trust this foreign rock. Not yet.

Rather, his thunderous footsteps moved in tandem with the Sorceress who had taken point. This day, he would follow. This day, he would understand. Uttering not a word, Hashim flexed his dominant hand. At the center of his palm, a jewel brimmed with the Force - a Talisman of Calling. Whatever awaited them within the cavern, he would be ready to face. So too would they all.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal stepped through the hatch after Pomsty. The pale Nightsister scanned the barren waste of the asteroid. If it were not for the lure of magickal artifacts she could have done never visiting such a wasteland. A tiny world. No, not a world, but from what they called this could it really be just an asteroid? All this 'Science' of the Offworlders hurt to think about. There was just so much to take in, and only so much time to learn it.

Slowly she tugged on her gauntlets to ensure a snug fit as she strode out to meet Pomsty on the surface. Her bright gaze watched as the other Witch chose to relieve herself of the mask they wore. Was that such a wise move? In what relatively little time Vytal had among the stars, learning the dangers of space had been one of the first things acquired. It had been some time later, but a medical person once rambled about dangers of other worlds and lifeforms. Offworlder medicine was created to combat strange diseases or ailments that afflicted the body. Of course the Mandragora had potions, but it was a risk all the same.

With a sigh, Vytal removed her mask as well. She wouldn't let her Sister expose herself to risk alone.

Her outfit covered most of her body, not interested in some strange lifeform laying an appendage on her flesh. The well tailored, but flexible material suited the huntress that preferred mobility over pretending to be a rancor or dragon. Mobility gave her the advantage, especially with the pouch of ichor she carried on her person.

If any asked, Vytal would not impart the same secret to them as she had her Sister. Pomsty had been a unique case of trust, and Vytal felt giddy at the reunion. Others might misuse the information, and put her at a disadvantage of them knowing one of her secrets. Until she got her hand on them (literally) and pacified that threat.

"Do not stray far from the group," Vytal announced in Pom's wake. Hostile creatures would easily pick them off if separated from the group. A group's size could easily dissuade beasts from attacking; it was their first defense that if wasted would result in unnecessary loss of life and resources. The Mandragora was not so wasteful as to lose people to negligence; unfortunate consequences of powerful magick, perhaps, but that was an accepted risk of their craft.

 

[Aisha]

Location: Anoat System
Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Hashim"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"]​

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It was difficult for a time, as they had boarded the craft and made their way to the Anoat System, not to allow herself to wallow in the joys of being surrounded once again by family. She'd had to leave many of her Sister's behind on Genosis when they'd departed, certainly - but to even enjoy a few hours on their journey simply surrounded by the energy that only another practitioner could provide was intoxicating none-the-less. It had left the dark haired woman pensive, though unarguably pleasant during the trip, eager to offer any assistance with their navigation or preparation for their excursion that was required.

As their craft came to rest on the alien little speck within the asteroid belt she felt a bit of that calm fade, however. It would be foolish not to heed the tension she could feel like a pressure upon her skin... It seemed as though the weeks spent pouring over the archives as well as consulting the spirits had not been for naught - the Slinani had most certainly left something here. Standing atop the ramp as several of her Sister's and their commander made their first foray onto what appeared to be a lush bit of greenery, Aisha could begin to feel the unease grow.

A soft huff escaped carmine lips, painted so heavily that they appeared nearly black, and the raven haired witch mounted the ramp, moving to join the group they'd formed for the mission. 'Don't stray,' they suggested - unlikely to be an issue for her. There was power in numbers, and that was true to a greater degree when you counted those with any mastery of magick in the mix. She trusted those around her to handle themselves well enough solo - but it would be a poor sod who would consider taking on what amounted to nearly a full coven of Dathomiri nomads.

Matching strides with the others, she followed Pom's lead as they approached the gaping maw in the side of the hills before them. With some luck from the spirits and what knowledge they possessed, she was hopeful that should any of the relics they'd come to learn of still resided in the caverns, their collective strength would be enough to retrieve them.

 

[Áine]

Location: Asteroid Surface - Annoat System
Tags: [member=Pom Stych Tivé] | [member=Hashim] | [member=Vytal Noctura] | [member=Aisha]

Once upon a time, a naiver Áine would have considered witches to be a thing of fantasy. They belonged to a world of fairy tales and bedtime stories meant to frighten children into behaving. For the longest of times, Áine could find no use for them in her playground, in the realm of Lords and Ladies. Upon her arrival to the Confederacy, Áine discovered she was never too old to learn. With it, doors had been opened to new and intriguing knowledge, knowledge that before now she had never had the mind to crave. But what caught the ancient experiments eye the most were the very things she had once cast aside as mere tales.

The more time she spent unravelling the mysteries of the Mandragora, the more Áine felt at home. She was pleasantly surprised by how deeply they lost themselves in the dark and dangerous of magicks. Much like the woman who now followed in their footsteps, they saw both beauty and darkness in power. They respected it and feared it in equal measures, but they were not afraid to use it. Their thirst for knowledge unabridged and the deep desire to unearth the ancient secrets of the Galaxy reflected her own desires as clear as crystal. This was exactly why she found herself aboard the craft filled with Nightsisters. It was also the reason she felt so elevated as the ship swooped down toward the asteroid belt. If she could find a place for herself anywhere in the Confederacy, it would be here.

As they descended the craft and made their way toward the caves there was little she could do but prepare herself for the journey ahead. Whatever was in the depths of the caves, whatever called to them in a sweet song only magick could play, the sisters were sure to reach it. There was certainly strength in numbers, and as they left the suns bright gaze and dove into the shadow of the caves, Áine could feel just how strong they were. As the soft warning came from the witch Elder's mouth, the fiery haired woman flashed her a small smile of acknowledgement. She would not need to be told twice.

Áine wasn't at all new to the art of the force, over her centuries of living she had become very familiar with the untameable power she had been blessed with. She was, however, new to this fold. New to the Mandragora. New to magick. In her many years, and with many trials and errors, Áine knew when to stay quiet. When to listen, to watch, and to learn. So as her dainty footsteps fell upon lush ground, as the rhythmic taps of her feet danced delicately between the thunderous crashes their freshface leader made, Áine did just that. She watched, she listened, and by the end of it all, she would learn.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

The brief glimpse of Hoth made his heart pang with loss. The giant snowball was just like home. Now that he’d been enduring the insufferable heat of Geonosis on the regular, the thought of winter’s chill cutting into his bones sounded like a pleasant change of pace. Mentally, he salutes the planet. A long time ago when he was but a fledgling of his current power, Lord Valodrakan gave him a home there. Their shared disdain for Jedi led to a comfortable alliance until Hevn found bigger and badder organizations to test himself.

Hoth, however, was not the destination much to his burning chagrin. He found space travel unnerving enough without adding the fact that the temple was on a bloody asteroid. If navigating them wasn’t stressful enough, standing on one absolutely was. How could anyone feel safe or secure with astrological forces at play. It put him on an edge would eat him until something nastier than being pulverized in the vacuum of space arose. He considered it likely something would demand that attention.

Hevn was not a Nightsister, and thus excused himself from traveling among them. The bond between them was tighter than his best manners could replicate, and he saw fit to prepare for the excursion alone. The witches were adamant in his participation, and he would not let their hard work pouring over maps and rumors go to waste. They had tracked the shrine down to this tiny rock after all. Impressive considering how overwhelming the size and span of the galaxy must be to those recently acquainted with it. He was still trying to grasp the sense of spirits as the witches knew them. He could invoke the dead, and speak with them much as the witches did their spirits, but they seemed to commune with a force that stood firmly in between this reality and the ones beyond.

Behind schedule, or fashionably late, his own courier descends adjacent to that of the witches. The sight of the bio dome was a cause for interest. Were there still people here? Would they defend this shrine? He found it unlikely this temple carried on as is by itself, but there was also the potential of it being an extremely elaborate illusion. Descending the ramp of his ship, he instructs the crew to engage stealth, keep the scanners going, and defend the vessels of the Mandragora at all costs. The pair acknowledge his orders, quietly gleeful they would not be Hevn’s pawns against the shrine as they were so often used.

Hevn was thrilled to get back to doing what he did best. Research and recovery. Countless quests into tombs dotted Hevn’s personal achievements, from Korriban to Cato Nemoidia. The Katals, Naga Sadow, he had made a point of investigating every name or worth in the history books and their locations in search of greater hidden power. Such places resonated with power. Thrumming in its walls like electricity and laced with arcane and spiritual dangers. He had come face to face with phantasmic horror, booby traps both physical and mental.

Most of all, he had failed. Failed to correctly assess the situation and the danger levels posed by each member of the party. Failed to accept their capacity for betrayal. A mistake he would not replicate if he could help it. Even in the company of the Mandragora he could not help but feel paranoid about the witches and their sisterhood against, well, him. The state of his body for all of the benefits it did reap, was a result of a caving tomb on Korriban. A treacherous leech who sought to bury him and make off with the goods unanswered.

Hevn’s armor forgoes the extra defense of plate mail. It would be important to be flexible and mobile in tight quarters where the potential to be ambushed or crushed would be repeatedly available to whatever opposition faced them. His breathing apparatus stays firmly fixed over his mouth. From behind the squad, he could see a pair of them abandoning the measure of safety. Immediately Hevn begins pounding grass to the front of the line. He makes a desperate attempt to squash his stifling rage. They were witches, and from what he could gather it took a stronger breed of witch to operate away from Dathomir as these ladies did. He could not afford to scold them like children or call them amateurs. Composure and delivery would be paramount if he was to sway the group. Approaching Pom and Vytal he earnestly speaks, “Mistresses. Please return your masks to your faces, and do not remove them. Foul poisons could lace this air or the confines of the temple, if such measures were taken to defend it. Worse yet, a spirit may crawl along such vapors into your body.”

If the threat of poison was not enough to stir their sense of caution perhaps the threat of possession could spur some sense of the dangers to come. He spoke from experience, having been gassed once and only surviving due to the Mechu-deru vitae combatting the attack on his biological systems. The second warning came from a singular terrible experience on Dromuund Kaas. While making contact with the dark spirits of the planet he found himself enslaved by a powerful Prophetess. She pushed her way down his throat into his lungs and tore him apart from within both his body and his mind. It was the only time Bedrovelse Hevn had ever pleaded for help. It was Alkor Centaris who carved his way through the jungle and beat the witch violently from the confines of his very spirit.

Shaking off the miserable recollection gave him a moment to size up the members of the Knights Obsidian with which he was not already familiar. A pair of witches, and a hulking suit of armor. “Greetings. I am Bedrovelse Hevn. “ While he thought of offering some further pleasantry toward the unfamiliar faces, he had not shown Pom or Vytal that same consideration, and so with those words he turns his expecting gaze back toward the witches in point position pondering what resistance they will offer to his logic. He had a sneaking suspicion their self confidence would respond with a spell or potion that would keep them as safe or safer than the state of the art technology graciously offered by the Confederates to their cause.

His eyes trail momentarily down toward Mistress Pom’s choice of weapon. He was familiar with such totems of power. Talismans, amulets, staves, all of which functioned similarly to his swords. Nexuses of dark side power capable of directing its flow toward the users desires intent. This was the first time he had seen a wand in specific, put to use. How would her stick hold up against the temple’s might and the obstacles brought to bear. He knew that he trusted his blasters, swords, slugs, and sabers implicitly. Was she as confident in her spell weaving as he was his swordsmanship?

[member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Hashim"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Aisha"] [member="Áine"]

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She walked along with [member="Vytal Noctura"], [member=Aisha], [member=Áine] and the new Lord Commander, Hevn arrived and whispered to her and Vytal. His concern touched her. Pom reached up and with a wink, lightly pats [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] on his cheek. His experience did matter to her. She had just taken a long drawl from her breather while walking on approach to the cave entrance. She honored his request with a respectful nod and secured her breather.

This Nightsister has determined the Mandragora her home and everyone within it family. This feeling is not by any part carried over to the Knights Obsidian as a whole, for they are non-inclusive towards the witches. She even feels it’s Commanders unapproachable after having spent time one on one with a few of them. She did not understand why [member=Hashim] was coming along, and felt he is probably just going to label them freaks like everyone else has. Luckily for the Mandragora, they have a place where they can live apart from the rest of the Knights Obsidian, were they are free to be as quirky as god made them, without a condemning eye befalling them.

Calls from the animals echoed from all around them. They sounded like small primates more afraid of them than dangerous. The closer they got to the crevice in the mountainside, Pom could see a flock of buzzards swarming near the mouth. If she had not replaced her breather, she would have picked up on the terrible stench coming from there.

The alert to their presence had already been tripped. A line was beginning to form inside the mouth of the cave. At least six rows of sixty headless soldiers stood elbow to elbow to forbid passage. Pom could see that beyond them their heads were piled about the floor of the cave. ‘Not very promising,’ she thought, a dramatic first impression of what is to come once inside. The lot of them most seemingly menacing, armed with long rusted machetes.

Pom wondered if they should try and cast a spell to demand the cooperation of the resurrected. But the thought hit her that even if their magick is stronger and could gain the result, she would still feel at ease that the lot of them could be returned to their present mission of eradicating the intruders at an inopportune moment. Her mind made up, she immediately raised her wand and picked them off at random, her spell of choice uttered under her breath, Petrify. One by one those in the front line turned to stone and they toppled over onto the others around them. She thought it quite a pitiful sight.

Beyond the sea of heads strewn across the cave floor, a gold hue begins to shimmer, blocking sight beyond it. A reflection of the approaching Mandragora party forms, their movement mirrored. They too appear to be undead. Pom and Hevn appear exactly the same. Comprehending well the point of that fact, Pom scowls as she pales. She still hasn’t told anyone her secret.

 

[Madalena Antares]

​

[member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Áine"] [member="Aisha"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Hashim"]​

Once again she was working with the Mandragora. Where once being around the presence of just one had put a certain level of weirdness within her, and being in the company of many had given her uncomfortable sensations which she had to work out in a very conscious manner, now it felt as natural as any other group within the Knights Obsidian. It was, as they said, a matter of becoming better practiced. She knew the discomfort that she had felt had nothing to do with them, or with herself, but was rather a remnant of the months spend in her sister's body.

She was within her own body now, a separate entity, a living, breathing, woman. Her promotion to Knight Commaner had come as a huge surprise to her, and had been accepted graciously. Yet outside of her job, Madalena was still someone who was searching for herself – finding out who and what she was, and what her goals and wills were, now that her memories and sense of sense-self were no longer being actively affected by memory and blood spells. She had found many surprises within her; the lust for chaos, for example, was completely not her, and neither did she particularly enjoy physical melee combat.

But to work with the Archivists for the short period of time that she had, that part had been almost like a dream to her Sith Sorcery, had become another deep passion. And where her sister's passions were loud and violent, Madalena found that hers were more laid back and relaxed. She did not need to scream, as even a whisper from her had become enough to be heard. And above all, she continued to lead the Knights Obsidian put under her care, even if she did not have direct apprentices.

As always, it was her choice to lead not from an office and sending commands, but by being there on the field. Where combat or war broke out, Knight Commander Antares was always there with the very people that she had sent to fight, fighting right along side them, taking on the same responsibilities and carrying the same weight on her back. The additional responsibilities and care that came – those were in the hard moments, in the seconds that required it. She had found the balance between being a boss and being a peer.

Her reasons for joining this expedition were many. Yet unlike the previous ones, her role for this was not to tell the Witches what to do, but rather, act as the support. They were to conduct their business and lead themselves, and she would help where help was needed. The personalities that had gathered aboard the ship were only half known to her, whereas the other half was made up of people whose faces she only knew from datafiles, yet she was excited to join them all regardless.

And, she'd brought a huge basket of chocolate chip cookies for them all to munch on the way.

That was earlier though. Now, Madalena pulled the mask of her red colored Strike Armor on, to protect herself from the dangers that lay ahead, and took the rear.

Arriving after the rest into the cave, [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] was already taking care of the skeletons. Madalena wanted to jump in and help, knowing how to animate the dead and control their bones, yet something inside her tugged against it, almost as though it was whispering and caressing the very depths of her brain to let it go. Glowing eyes narrowed, and she looked around, completely unimpressed, until her sight befell what she immediately knew to be the source.

From the very walls of the caves oozed a blackness, a darkness, that absorbed all light. It showed no reflection and cast no air around it as it slowly and lazily continued to flow. Those who had been under the ground on Bassadro when the volcanoes had erupted might recognize it from there, for it had oozed out of the very walls of the tunnels too. She had not been there, but the reports had come in by the numbers, and she had been given the memories of what being in its presence had felt like.

"Whatever you do," Madalena screamed over the sounds of battle and skeletons toppling down, "Don't let the black ooze touch you or your armor!"

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal looked at Hevn when he drew near. The man spoke urgently, but not with a tone of disrespect. In truth, she was glad he had finally arrived and spoke sense to her Sister. She was bold, confident, but perhaps a little too bold. Not that Vytal had much more experience, but the very idea of walking around on a celestial body that had no reason to possess air in the first place without a mask... Yet Pomsty could not do this alone. And perhaps the mask had not been necessary. Perhaps Vytal was just paranoid at walking on an asteroid. Until Hevn arrived.

Her bright eyes rolled away when Pomsty patted the man's cheek. Flirting while exploring dangerous ground... And Vytal still believed the little ways she interacted with the man was flirting. There might be a twinge of jealousy how easily her Sister pulled off being such a minx.

With her own mask put back in place, Vytal slid a potion free and pushed it into Hevn's chest as she passed. "Knowing you," was all the Nightsister said in leaving the healing draught in his care. She didn't want them to break with tradition after all.

The hidden mirth fell as they neared the mountainous terrain and the risen dead that barred their way. Like her Sister, Vytal also contemplated severing the magicks used to keep the bodies upright. However that would seem to be a waste of power given they had only just arrived. While she could cast without the ichor, the most potent spells in her arsenal would stem from it. As Pomsty took to petrifying the corpses instead, Vytal turned to look back at the rest. An opportunity to educate those that may be unfamiliar with this enemy, "The risen dead can be fierce warriors. They have no regard for self preservation or pain. However, based on the magic used to raise them they may also be lethargic and practically useless as more than a barricade. Most of their value comes from being an expendable soldier on the battlefield, and from the terror they instill in many sapients from sight alone."

A glow in the corner of her eye caused Vytal to turn back toward the cave. Her black lips turned into a frown at the sight beyond the undead. A sharp click of Vytal's tongue followed.

If they were to be their own opponent, she would know their quality; as the Nightsister had not been impressed by the lifeless upright corpses. Her right hand lifted overhead, "Flare." Light flared into existence for a moment before it bled back out. If he double was able to accomplish the same, Vytal would move on to conjuring a touch of mist about her hand. Once more she lifted while her eyes were fixed on her double, "Reveal the unseen before our eyes so they may be known for death's embrace." This time the light that sprang into existence was dim and spread over a thirty-foot area over the heads of all present. Its green glow would find little out in the open (so Vytal expected). If her double managed this feat that would be foreboding, but might also prove useful.

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member=Áine] | [member=Aisha] | [member=Hashim] | [member="Madalena Antares"]

 

[Rience]

Family.

Though the realm of the ethereal was a foreign concept to the Lord Commander, there was something that he did understand. Something that he sought to bring to the whole of the Knighthood - inspired simply by the Mandragora being themselves. Despite how different their backgrounds may have been, each member looked upon the other as extended family. They referred to one another as brother or sister. And though there was no blood - at least to his knowledge - that ran betwixt them...there was an inherent trust.

If nothing else, Hashim aspired for the Knights Obsidian to grow into something more. To become a family. To become a place where all branches, especially the Mandragora, could be treated as extended family.

Yet, in the here and now, the Lord Commander had the opportunity to bear witness to the adversaries before and how the Mandragora addressed them. As their cadre neared the mouth of the cave, warnings were uttered by those who moved ahead of the armored man. To stay close, first of all. There was a fleeting moment of introduction, where another arrival presented himself before the group. In turn, Hashim offered to [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] a nod, saying: "Well met, Bedrovelse Hevn. I am called Hashim." He did not utter his title - for again, he was here to understand not to lead.

And [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] led indeed.

The first wave of their adversaries made themselves apparent in the mouth of the cave. The reanimated dead, robbed of their heads and thrust into unlife. Another sister, Vytal, quickly explained the value of such fodder on the battlefield. While Hashim found the idea of raising the deceased in such a way...abhorrent...he did spare a thought to how useful it could be. As opposed to sending their own to die, they could raise fallen foes? Imagine the demoralization of facing down one's fallen brothers...

There would be time aplenty to truly appreciate the depths of such a technique's usefulness later. Instead, the Lord Commander thrust his dominant hand above his head. "To me, Helmsplitter!" His own "incantation" boomed as a thunderous baritone, and the Force heeded his cry. The Talisman of Calling erupted with unnatural flames as a metal form sprang into existance. It grew and expanded amidst blinding light, until a twin-headed battleaxe rested within the warrior's palms.

With blade in hands, the warrior once more hearkened to the wisdom of his peers. One spoke of the darkness oozing from the cavern walls. The other engaged what laid beyond the reanimated dead...something which briefly took the Obsidian aback. Behind the enemy lines was a warrior wielding the same axe as he. The same armor. A perfect doppelganger. "What trickery is this? he breathed, before filling the air with a savage roar. Helmsplitter whirled above his head, igniting as was his will.

He brought the axe down in a headsman's slice, stopping mere centimeters above the asteroid's surface. And though the weapon did not impale the earth, flames erupted forth from its form. They traveled in a tight line, burning swiftly into the mouth of the cavern before leaping onto the dead - petrified and otherwise. Yet Hashim did not rest. No, he immediately rightened his stance and raised his weapon - preparing for if the doppelganger could somehow employ the very same tactic.

For it it could, he would be ready.

[member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Áine"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Aisha"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]​

 

[Ashara Evanaris]

Ashara could never return to the home she grew up in or see her family; for one they are either deceased or would not even recognize her. The last time she had seen any of them she was a human girl who had just became a Sith Knight. Looking back at it now it felt like eons ago to her since she even resembled anything like her previous self, but that that person was destroyed when she became the guinea pig of a sith experiment and was transformed into a Lethan by the hand of an overlord of the long dead Jen’Ari Empire; which she saw crumble before her very eyes and left with every thought of good riddance. Ashara walked way with out allegiance only to watch it burn.

When she came to the Confederacy seeking refuge from a dying empire Ashara was surprised she was allowed or even accepted, but soon found her place among the Obsidian and being apart of the Mandragora. Ashara had never truly been apart of a family, her original family cared only for prestige and power, which is why they are mostly dead killing each other. So the mere idea of family is a new feeling for her. This did not change the fact that Ashara did not trust anyone, if they were anything like her at all, Ashara always played by her own agenda and she treated others as such; untrustworthy.

This mission with Mandragora would be her first with the Obsidian as well as a first time meeting many of he Mandragora she would be traveling with. Before joining the confederacy she had spent a lot of time searching for relics and artifacts herself, she was eager to search Anoat and the shrine to explore and see what they could find. Ashara knew from her own personal experience that this was not going to be an easy task, some of the shrines she found on her own were quite periless. Ashara felt this would be no different.

Ashara wasn’t about to walk in unknown to the elements, she wore a standard suit, to protect her skin from elements, with a jet black robe draped around her , wearing her favorite combat boots. Who knows what or who they would run into deep with in the caverns. Trusting her instincts it did not take long for an encounter and they had even yet to enter the catacombs; happening right on the front doorstep.
Ashara sensed something, a mist had began to form around her, dark tentacles taking a hold of her and before she could grasp a breath, she knew she had vanished, or was being sucked into an illusion. A moment later the mist vanished and she was surrounded by scaled looking creatures. Scanning the area she could sense not a single life form but there were seven creatures around her. Ashara did not like being used in someone elses Illusion manipulated in such a matter, she needed to end it and gain the upper hand. First and foremost she needed to find out if they were actually living or an Illusion, with an open hand at her side she slowly closed making a fist, one creature with both his hands grabbed his neck attempting to draw another breath before his esophagus was crushed by the force.

Ashara was at a loss, the creatures were actually living things, but her allies were no where to be found and she was left alone to fend for herself, she was going to have some fun with these creatures. Pulling aside her robe Ashara did not reach for her lightsaber but instead she unleashed her Vibro-whip uncoiling at her side. One by one she unleashed her fury on the creatures as they advanced on her. Two she had beheaded with a snap of the whip, another held suspended in the air as she forced crushed him. Another advanced at her, she pushed it backwards impaling it on a stake pultruding from the cavern wall until only one remained. Just when she was about make her final attack, a wisp of smoke swirled around her, the same dark tentacles all around her and she was back among her allies

@Hashimv
@Vytal Noctura
[member="Madalena Antares"]
[member="Pom Stych Tivé"]


[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]
[member="Áine"]

[member="Aisha"]
[member="Hashim"]

 

[Aisha]

Location: Anoat System​

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Hashim"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Áine"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Madalena Antares"] | [member="Ashara Evanaris"]​

---

​

---

Well, this was escalating quickly…

The witch elder had barely had time to register the arrival of Hevn to their small troop, keeping silent as the head of the Obsidian Knights made his introductions to the man who had chosen not to travel with the Sisters. She’d been keen to introduce herself as well, having gathered that with the way both Pom and Vytal greeted him so warmly that he was someone their both knew and trusted - however the cavern entrance before them seemed to have very different plans.

There was a cold chill that ran across her skin as the shambling corpses picked themselves up and began their lurching shuffle towards the mouth of their path. Her nose wrinkled a touch in distaste as she halted her progress, staying well within the circle of their group as she held off. It seemed she would not yet be required as those gathered were more than capable of handling the undead. Between Pom’s wand work and the new Lord Commander, there was little need for her to take action.

Instead, she turned her attentions to the black sludge that had begun to bleed from the walls and ceiling of the cavern itself. She’d heard the busty brunette that had tagged along exclaim that the ooze was not to be touched… Very well then. Stepping forward the raven-haired woman lifted pale hands from within the folds of the robes she wore and extended them forward.

Feeling all that cold, undead energy before them she concentrated on the disturbance they created. Whatever was animating these creatures was like irritation on her skin, an itch that demanded scratching. Taking in a slow breath she gathered all that irritation and wrongness and with an upward thrust from her hands she gathered up all the felled, now smouldering remains of that undead who had been culled. Using the remains as the simple matter they were she slammed them up along the walls of the cavern, creating an improvised barrier between the ooze and the cavern itself.

She wasn’t entirely clear that it would last long if the ooze could eat through armour, but thankfully there seemed to be a decent number of corpses that she could continue to add to the mass as the ooze ate its way through.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

As [member=Hashim] conjured his massive axe the Nightsister couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Their unexpected guest knows something about magick and that earned him points in her book. All in all however, she prefers to work only among her race. Her interactions thus far with outsiders is that they often cast judging gazes, and some openly voice their expectations of her to just do everything for them to warrant instantaneous results. All this from Knights who are basically strangers to her, who have never proven their worthiness, nor built trust, or even hinted at offering friendship. Pomsty often makes up excuses, informing them that such and such cannot be done, not by her at least, when in fact she merely refused because the fulfillment of the request was expected of her. Let them believe her inept, she just doesn't care. A request was often accompanied by what she took for an insult anyhow. She never truly cared for the Knights Obsidian because of this common attitude. Maybe it is the culture among the rest of the galaxy, but it will never be the culture of Nightsisters. She stuck within the Mandragora, no longer because of the verdict of Adron Malvern, but because of what belonging to the group could offer her in the realm of further developing her Craft. If someone told her that the whole aura surrounding the KO could change tomorrow, she would have to see it to believe it.

Today is a lesson she will benefit from, for she wasn’t quite sure the purpose of the shimmering gold curtain and the intentions of the Doppelgängers that stood within it. Glancing at the screen on the datapad she announced, “Estimating the distance, the ship’s computer determined that the cave goes straight down from there."

'How do we safely pass?' she wondered. She must see the situation better. Is the presence of the Doppelgängers a ruse meant to scare them, a cheap attempt at turning them away, or are they physically present and intend to fight to their death?

Hashim set a trail ablaze within the mouth of the cave. She raised a hand toward the bunch to stay their attack, her thoughts focussed, intuition molding. “I’ve a hunch about this.”

Pom walked off to the side of the mouth of the cave, anticipating that her Doppelgänger might walk out of view as well. [member="Vytal Noctura"] uttered her incantation for revelation, and Pom fed off of her sister's power. She raised her hand and drew to it a little bird. She carefully clutched the delicate creature, and cupped her hands over it, whispering to it as it fell limp under her spell. She squeezed her hands together and made the bird vanish into thin air.

She raised her palms upward to the sky and the bird leapt out of the flesh of her palm. The blood vessels in Pom's left eye turned black as oil, and she saw within her mind, that which the bird’s own eyes paid witness. Under the Nightsister’s spell, it was lead to fly into the cave and towards the shimmer, and it perched itself above the Doppelgängers, not upon the cave walls, or the Doppelgängers themselves, but at the edge of the shimmer. As she suspected, her group prepared to die fighting something easily avoided. She smiled to herself as she shook her head, knowing full well that she was beginning to adore them for such a show of devotion.

“Our doubles are within a plane of their own. I don’t know if there are real physical manifestations of ourselves waiting down in the cave under our feet of not. But put away your magick and don’t give them further insight to your abilities. We may see them again. But this,—” she said pointing to the cave, “is an image only to ward us off. It is nothing more than a mirror, charmed in ways to show us a collective vision, and quite possibly something more.”

Then the bird naturally looked downward upon the cave floor, and Pom saw what it saw. There is no entrance here to the cave below. Pom drew the small datapad from her pocket again and glanced at it. She tapped it and took her fingers and she spun the image generated on the screen. “That something more just so happens to be, that this mirror is also the entrance to our cave.” She waved her hand and the bird jumped off its perch and flew into the mirror, and out again. “Yes. Well here goes nothing then.”

Tucking the data pad away once again, Pom stopped dead in her tracks as the bodies of the undead were lifted off the ground and squashed against the walls of the cave to protect the group from the oozing darkness which [member="Madalena Antares"] had first pointed out. She turned around to see who did this and saw [member=Aisha] concentrating on the magick. Pom burst out laughing at the idea, successful as it was, she found it quite humorous. “Too funny! Aisha made undead wallpaper, however I don’t believe they are as absorbent as we require them to be! Had they died in their diapers, then maybe!” In all her days, and she knew in all her lives, she never saw anything so funny and yet so maniacal as this move!

Pom stepped onto the corpses carefully so as not to stumble. Small fires which Hashim had started, continued to dance throughout the lot of them. She continued laughing for the moment. Pom stopped once again and turned back to [member="Ashara Evanaris"], [member=Áine] was at her side. She sensed something off. Ashara had been the only one touched by something. She waved everyone onward, into the mouth of the cave, towards their Doppelgängers. As the two witches caught up to her, Pom spoke, "Ashara, something happened to you just now; yes?" she asked as they stood before the mirror portraying their own likenesses. "Why don't you tell Áine and myself all about it?"

Pom locked one arm around Ashara's, and her other Áine's. She glanced over her shoulder and met everyone's gaze, turning to see [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]'s protective stance behind her. She encouraged everyone to follow suit, to hold onto one another. She never walked through a mirror before, but read about it many times. It would be detrimental if they became separated at the start. Once stepping into their own undead likenesses, inside the charmed mirror which had been placed just within the mouth of the cave, the group becomes transported together into the underground maze of hidden treasures and mystery.

The images of their Doppelgängers vanished from the mirror with them, as they passed through this mystical doorway.

Her feet upon solid ground, and her arms locked with her brothers and sisters, her first declaration is, 'Let there first be light.' The little bird that she put under her spell to serve her, chirped lightly, not far off in the distance.

 

[Madalena Antares]

[member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Áine"] [member="Aisha"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Hashim"] [member="Ashara Evanaris"]​

And just like that, everyone was on their feet, working at the same time. Some chose to go for the skeletons whereas others targeted the ooze, and the remaining ones tackled pretty much anything that was coming for them, regardless of its source. It was a chaotic mess of spells and combat, and she smiled as she saw that within all the mess – they could work together. They knew how to work together. So far not a single one's actions had interrupted the course of another.

Madalena's own hands began to move in circular motions as the spheres of darkness began to form between them, globes of kinetite colored black that kept growing and growing with every moment. A breath later and the sphere shot from her hands, hitting several of the skeleton, one by one, causing each that it touched to explode.

Pausing only for the briefest of moments, Madalena raised a barrier to protect the group from splatters ending up on top of them, all the while keeping an eye on the actions of [member="Aisha"] and the barrier she herself was constructing against the black ooze. She had warned the others earlier about not touching them, and now that the corpses were, they could all easily see – the black ooze simply swallowed them all, like the darkness putting out a light.

Only then did she notice her doppelganger – but with everything else that seemed to be happening, the reflection somehow seemed not important, not right there and then. And perhaps, she was wrong.

Following the instructions of [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], her eyes gazing at the bird, Madalena ceased her sphere creation and jumped towards the group, standing at the rear and locking arms with anyone who was still alone.

Leave no one behind. She never had before, and she never would – not as a leader, and not as a mission partner.

 

[Ashara Evanaris]

There could be many different explanations for what just had happened, especially now that she has yet to come to terms with who she is really is .A sith or a witch, both sects may or may not come to the same conclusion. Down deep Ashara knew with each passing day she was becoming more and more like one of the sisters. She had hoped after this mission all would become clear and her path would be laid out before her.When Pom came to her and motioned the others to continue on ahead except for Áine. This would be the first time Ashara had spoken to Either of them.

“Yes, something very strange happened and I have yet to discern what actually happened. It felt as though I vanished, or became apart of someone’s illusions. Another part of me believes it may be the spirits, possibly because I was alone and left to fight living creatures. Now I find out there are doppelgangers about. Something is at play here “The more Ashara thought about what had happened, each frame of her memory became all the more vague and became difficult to recall. She had already forgotten the wisps of smoke and the Dark tentacles that drew her away and brought her back.”I don’t know now, the whole event is nothing more that vague images and I cant piece them back together."She was angry at herself for allowing herself to be subject to such things.
[member="Madalena Antares"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Aisha"] [member="Hashim"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Áine"]

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Impressive. Inspiring. Powerful. Undeniable. Vytal's eyes shifted to the side at Hashim after he'd drawn his fire-stick and set their enemies ablaze. How fortunate the cave had not chosen to reflect that attack back at them. The man was no doubt quite confident in his ability to respond to his own attack, but that did not mean others would escape the consequences so easily. As he was their ultimate superior, however, the Nightsister bit her tongue and would forego judgment until he had an opportunity to demonstrate his true ability. The man had, after all, retained the Mandragora and even increased its number by incorporating the Archivists. He knew the power of magick.

Pom drew from the mists for her own work, which interested Vytal just as much in the spell used as her use of the mists at all. The ichor of Dathomir seemed a lost Art among those so far from home. Truly, it was difficult to acquire. Better that the Confederacy not know from whence all good things came.

A sigh of disappointment followed as Vytal let the power fade away, and the mist evaporated as dew before the morning sun. "A portent to those that would dare enter," the Nightsister added to Pom's detailed explanation. "Fortunately, our group is far more than any they expected to encounter." The Lord Commander, Knight Commander, Pomsty, and herself would defeat whatever lay beyond that threshold.

Vytal's eye was drawn to Aisha as well, however, and evaluation of the woman's power. They had little time together, but her casting aside the enemy into the foul, black ooze Madalena warned them about had been a good idea. Perhaps when Vytal came to know this Sister better, and the wayward Twi'lek with them, she might be just as taken with their abilities as the rest. This was as good a time as any to get closer.

As the group started to shuffle about the mouth of the cave, Vytal drifted over toward Aisha. "We haven't had much time to speak. When we place the dead back in their grave, we should correct this." Aisha had the look of Dathomir to her appearance, which naturally interested Vytal.

She would have thought to approach Ashara as well, but Pom seemed keen to speak with the red one.

"Join arms. Do not let any force separate you from the other," Vytal announced as Pom gestured for them to follow her lead. "Such magicks can prove turbulent, or be designed to separate parties to become easier prey." Like Pom, there was no experience with such magick to be had, but the ability to move instantaneously through space had been a natural topic of curiosity. For one, ease of movement to other worlds for research supplies. Another, understanding how the Mandragora library worked. The spirits retrieving books was insanely efficient -- even if Vytal hadn't any idea how they chose the material to acquire that they did.

Once they had all emerged on the otherside within the chamber the group found themselves in, Vytal slowly freed her hand to draw forth her power once more. "Fortification," she breathed before the Green of Dathomir swept about their feet and out to the edges of the group. The slowly churning mist formed a circle around them to bolster their defense against a creature that might lash out from the dark.

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Áine"] | [member="Aisha"] | [member="Hashim"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]​

 

[Rience]

The quest to understand was becoming stranger by the minute.

Over the course of his experience, the Lord Commander had faced down many adversaries. Yet all of them had something in common - directness. The enemies would amass their armies or their arsenals and bare down upon Hashim. The clash would decide who lived and who died; but there was never a question of who or what they were up against. Yes, at times, guile and stealth were a factor - but overall...Hashim had become used to the traditional battlefield. This? This calamity was far outside his realm of expertise.

At first, he was a Titan ready to wage war. With axe in hands, he awaited felling additional foes by fire. Yet [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] led the way forward. She, with her unique perspective and talents, was able to discern the true nature of the cave in a matter of moments. If it had been up to Hashim, they would have been fighting undead perpetually. With the revelation uttered by the woman, the Lord Commander hearkened to her every word. There was no need to doubt her, as certainly she was within her element.

Thus, Helmsplitter was dismissed amidst a spray of embers, leaving Hashim's hand bare.

When they moved together, he did so in silence - his arm instinctively coming to link with [member="Aisha"] 's. Overall, hers was the only face of the Mandragora that he readily recognized and knew, and thus, he naturally gravitated towards her. He held his breath as they stepped through the "mirror" and did not release it until they were on the other side. From there...though he spoke no words, Aisha would feel the tension in his arm heighten. Hashim would burn this experience onto his very soul and remember what the Mandragora were truly capable of from thenceforth.

But first, he would have to make it through the day.

[member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | @Ainé | [member="Madalena Antares"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Ashara Evanaris"]​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

As Pom spoke, suspended orbs of light began to form, glowing lightly, illuminating the pathway. She studied the datapad to discover their destination since stepping through the mirror to be near the end of the deepest tunnel. That the bird she enlisted to serve still lived and chirped is a good sign all around.

[member="Vytal Noctura"]'s confidence is a passionate inner strength which Pom remembers her exhibit since they were children together. She faces confrontation head on and in the way of their Dathomiri ancestors. Seeing this passion always makes Pom smile. Pom herself, channels any force that she can wield at any given moment. At first, she was convinced it was heresy to do so. Since the day she learned that her Dathomiri god cannot touch her off that planet, and may be actually physically incapable of reaching across the galaxy, Pom expanded her beliefs. The library at the castle have proven very useful to expanding upon concepts. Her thinking is coming around to believe in the Force, as well as remain supportive of divine beings. Pom has accepted, that which she believed to be the ultimate god all her life, is far too small to fill the role of her ideal of what god should be capable of. The success at magick among the members of the Mandragora have reinforced her evolution.

[member="Ashara Evanaris"] could not reveal much, but Pom saw her potential. A Seer is a great value to her coven. "That's ok," she assured her. "If you feel touched by anything again, just tap my arm, or anyone’s. If you cannot see us, raise your own hand up so we will know that maybe something is happening." A Seer could be witnessing the past, or something about to happen. She can learn to remember her experiences. It comes with practice. Their value is unlimited!

Pom could sense [member=Hashim]'s tension. She too felt the need to shake it off once she had to face her own reflection in the mirror…her own eyes blinded and vacant, white as the sun. Worse, what the image implicated, how she appeared exactly the same as her flesh and bone body today. She is a cloned body possessing the reincarnated soul a Sith. None of those things she asked for; but is she undead, like [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]’s own little secret?

She began to realize just how big Hashim's balls have to be, for him to actually come to do this with a bunch of witches and a warlock whom he doesn't know in the least. She had never suspected he would actually show for the exhibition. Then when Hashim did arrive at Mandragora and was brought into the castle he spoke of this huge KO shindig in the near future, the Nightmother in turn offered their home for the location. Pom refuted vehemently, but she accepted that it could be fun; at least, once everyone gets terrified enough and runs away screaming, then there are more urban legends in circulation about the Mandragora! This can never be a bad thing to have happen! Pom thought that maybe after today, Hashim will understand how the regular guy doesn’t feel comfortable in the presence of the Mandragora, and he will leave this nonsense of opening the Mandragora to non-witches behind him. Thankfully enough, she knew she had to do nothing out of the ordinary to assist him in drawing such conclusions today. He is already halfway to realizing this, and they just walked through the entrance.

But it doesn’t hurt to try; right?

Pom reached into her collar and drew her necklace bearing the Amulet of Hayze from over her heart. It provides her with a sense of calm, and yet it reverberates with utter chaos. Her mind learned to react to its pulses, counter them and sooth over its vibration. For her, it hums soothingly. She outstretched her arm toward Hashim and presented it to him. “Your kind believe all this is just manifestations of the Force.”

That should help him wrap his mind around the unique; right?

If he accepts her token, he might just find it aid his focus, as Pom trusts that it does. If he refuses to accept it, then it shall be no different than any outsider ever reacted to an unsolicited gift from a Nightsister, although it won’t inspire her bigoted views to change any time soon.

Bissops, the scaled creatures which Ashara had witnessed only moments before in her vision, have been left on this asteroid. They freely came and went by teleporting through the mirrors just as the Mandragora had moments ago. A pack of them approached the mirrors and would soon enter into the cave, following behind the group.

A cackling reverberates throughout the cave. There is no telling it’s direction or distance. Pom mentally coaxed the bird to search for the source.

Protection spells are cast over the group, but an enemy which has not yet presented itself cannot precisely be warded against.

As the group walk onward, the walls open up to reveal the catacombs. Bones of the dead lying inside their warrior armor rest in peace and undisturbed since the last time the Slinani returned to hide their treasures. The scene is ghastly. Pom wonders how recent some of them might be, considering their different states of decomposition.

If she would only make them talk...

At the end of the tunnel stands another larger mirror. The undead Doppelgängers of the Knights Obsidian are reflected here, just as they had been at the mouth of the cave.

Corpses half buried within the wall of the cave nearest the mirror, animate from their place of eternal slumber, extending their arms and uncoiling their fingers. There was an equal number of corpses with outstretched arms, as there were members of the KO team. It became apparent that they expect tokens to permit entry. Pom turned to peer behind herself, and saw all the skulls of the dead turned their way, their attention trained on the group.

But what type of payment does a gaggle of corpses demand to receive?






[member=Áine]
[member=Aisha]
[member="Madalena Antares"]

 

[Ashara Evanaris]

Ashara could feel the presence of her allies around her, but her attention was drawn elsewhere towards the mirror before them. What she saw before her was nearly impossible to fathom to the outsiders of her sisterhood. She saw herself, but only a reflection of her former self, a young human women just beginning her journey as a Sith knight. Her attention focused on the mirror before them, she heard whispers all around her. Come to me……as she proceeded forward and touched the mirror a memory replayed as though she was transported into that very moment.

The time was three years before present day, The Jen Ari’ had crumbled into a flake dust cast upon the wind, and Ashara found herself on Dathomir. It was here She went through the transformation and under gone the ritual to become a prophet of the dark side. The ritual nearly killed Ashara asking for her own blood sacrifice, The winged Goddess demanded she lay her own life before her to begin a new one. The ritual would transform her into a Seer of the nightsisters. The ritual would take four days to complete, and on the fifth she would see a vison of future events. On her death bed Ashara was spared for her obedience, and on that evening she saw what would take place.

Ashara remembered the vision in clarity, it included everyone who was standing in front of the doppelganger mirror. For Ashara her battle was only about to begin, she would be faced with a simple choice. One: lay your life down and the others could proceed without paying the price, or fight your doppelganger and pass through the mirror and let your sisters fight their own battle.

The memory subsided and it was just as she had expected, she could not pass through and only touch the glass mirror and stare at her human doppelganger. Glancing around at everyone wondering if they could see her human doppelganger in the mirror. Tapping pom on her shoulder she pointed at that mirror. ”Do you see what I see, Its my former self”

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Vytal significantly boosted his spirits offering the potion, and pegging him with a mild jab that was not altogether untrue. The members of the group were vigilant and above all creative. It was a wonder to watch Pom carve through the undead with the flick of her wrist. The other witches joined, piling the bodies against the abyssal bile pouring from every pore in the cave walls. Madalena was sure to keep them safe and sound from stray drops with a protective spell. It must be in her instincts, and thus a wonderful choice for Knight Commander. Hashim put on a dazzling display of summoning. Excitement courses through Hevn at the sheer badassery of the flaming axe ripped from absolute nothingness and makes a mental note to follow up on how exactly he did that. An envious skill for a man who found himself often encumbered by the sheer number of tricks he liked to bring along.

At first, his reflection is indeed identical to himself. He never paused for the mirror long enough to take such a look. It was the woman beside him that drew his attention away for just a second. Neither of their images were different than their reality, and his gaze lingers on her reflection for a moment. It was looking at him too. A number of quips come to mind, but the gravity of the realization squashes his jokes. Hard being this pretty isn’t it? Sucks to be us? Goodness aren’t we just to die for?!

It explained Ryloth, for starters. If they were alike in such a sense it would be how she got under his skin so easily. She spoke a subtle and unseen language that he was sensitive too. He could only imagine that their aptitude for necromancy possibly made one another completely transparent. If that were true he’d need to raise his guard higher, stronger, and at a greater distance than ever before.

The few moments he spent with his gaze lingering on her reflection were all it took for his own to complete it’s metamorphosis. It now stood almost a head shorter than it had before. The white hair became short, shaggy, and brown. His skin tanned from completely pale to a darkened olive color. There was no machinery. No death. Just Goliath Forge. Not just any shade of his past self either. The warrior from Rakata Prime, or Lehon as he knew it then. This was the man who killed their maker. A clone sent to do what the binding powers of undeath barred him from being able to himself.

The man staring back at him was the closest he’d ever been to reclaiming happiness. So much so that he died for it. When the necromancer took his Lilith away, his unbound rage became a weapon of mass destruction. It was his own power that threw her from the window when he attacked, but he dove from the skyscraper, pulling her to him with the force, and traded his life for hers when it came time to hit the ground. What did this shadow desire from Hevn? They were hardly the same man, except for at the deepest consideration of their roots.

Ashara directs attention towards her reflection, though he only sees it as a mirror. There is no difference in the woman speaking, only that of his own. “I do not sees yours Ashara, but in mine...something is awry. I will see the manner of this sorcery for myself.”

Hevn peers toward the extended hands of the dead. Then towards his reflection. The blistering icy blue glare shining back at him made him scowl, which his reflection imitates. The offering required was not clear. Blood or some manner of weakening of those passing was usually the price, but the mirror did not offer him that choice. Something deep within answered his call for illumination. His own voice taunting him, “Hatred is the only currency in which you deal Bedrovelse Hevn, and so shall it be paid back to you.” There could be no self sacrifice for him. Only the toll that he could pay. He reaches out toward the glass and the reflection reaches toward him. Their fingers intertwine in some space between worlds, before they are dragged away. The the group he would appear to be sucked inside of it with a liquid ripple, before hardening like diamond. Frosting the glass over while he was trapped inside.

What he fell into was a scene right from Goliath’s past. Except that Hevn found himself in the seat of his maker. Lilith was bound to the wall, screaming for Goliath to help. He felt the bark of laughter rumbling from his own throat, his red lightsaber igniting, pointed at Goliath’s chest. “I bring the Light to the ground. Kneel before me!” Goliath refuses, as Hevn knew would be true. Orange and green sabers alight in each of his hands, and as Goliath charges, Hevn descends.

He was trapped in a memory. From whose perspective? As Hevn would have plunged in to attack, a horrible pain splits through his back and abdomen. Phantasmagoria’s edge was pushing through his stomach, and green and orange flashes of light carve him from the front. Horrific fiery pain scorch the entirety of his front. The sword rips his insides as he is lifted, and then whipped to the ground like roadkill. His body rolls over as it splatters his blood and oil all over the floor. Lilith was free, booking her arms around Goliath, and next to them stood himself. Hevn holding his sacred katana, Phantasmagoria.

It wasn’t him though. It was Darth Hevn. His eyes are not blue, but a sulfuric yellow and cloudy red. Hevn was dying on the floor facing the best, and worst of himself. Goliath being his most pure. Courageous, noble, chivalrous. Darth being his worst. Insatiable bloodthirst, infinite rage, pain personified. Goliath kisses Lily, and releases her. She casts a wicked grin over Bedrovelse’s toppled body before walking away. His shades, of obvious and opposite polarity approach one another, gloating over his defeat.

Pride. Pride is your downfall you pathetic fool. Too proud to assess this as more than a memory. So proud that even your reflections dawdle to finish you off. Was there anything more upsetting than being humiliated by oneself? Of course. Humiliation from beyond.

“Knowing you.” The words echo in his brain as death continued to seep into his wounds, the cold and emptiness replacing the blood pouring from his body. For a second, he curses her gift for foresight before remembering her gift to resolve it. Hevn rolls into his stomach, feigning the briefest glimpse of death. The potion in his chest pocket scoots out with his forceful flopping motion, enough that his teeth can just pull the cork, and let the contents swim over his desperately reaching tongue. Most of it misses his mouth, but the small amount that could trickle down his throat bring him a surge of life.

The wounds were grievous and only barely clotted. Physical exertion would undoubtably tear them wide open again. So it was the force he had to depend on. He compounds his self contempt. For his weakness, for his pride, letting his rage peak before springing into action. Both of his reflections pounce as soon as he is to his feet, but he was counting on it.

For them both Hevn conjured the nightmare of their conception. He had to choose an attack that would subdue each shade simultaneously, and his quick thinking could only point to one answer. Before Bedrovelse Hevn became a Jen’jidai, his unstable mind was by far his greatest weakness. Glimpses of it sometimes reared it’s ugly head in the man he was now, but not like it used to hurt him.

The image of their butchered bodies was carved into Hevn’s mind, if he closed his eyes he could see it in perfect detail. He projected that image into his shadows. Each one of them fell to their knees, clutching their ears in agony, wailing the names of their family, and their love. The trembling caricatures of Bedrovelse scream and collapse into a cloud of dust that swallows him, and hurls him from the contents of the mirror.

Hevn’s chest and back are torn to pieces. His flesh clings in ribbons to a subdermal layer of armor underneath his skin. There is a jagged hole punched through his stomach that began to ooze blood as soon as he was thrown from the mirror to the floor of the catacombs. He musters a groan as he shambles to all fours. His eyes widen as he faces the back of the party, hand dipping to his hip for one of his heavy blaster pistols. “Bissops.” Blood squeezes through his teeth and drool from his mouth as he declares their arrival.

His left arm cradles his torso as he settles on his knees lifting the blaster. His eyes alight with each bolt leaping from the blaster into the charging lizard hounds.

[member="Ashara Evanaris"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Hashim"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Madalena Antares"] [member="Aisha"] [member="Áine"]