Public The Dark Gathering

[Kyrel Ren]

Polis Massa was nothing but an asteroid to some. To others like Kyrel it held some special significance. Close to the Terminus system along the Rim, his plans concerning the Rim worlds starting to take shape within the grand scheme of things, he left many of those matters to one of his Ren. He himself often called to the battlefields of the conquests of the Maw to even dare try much of anything himself. Alone he couldn’t do anything at all, he could admit that but with some muscle from the galaxy’s scum and villainy that grand vision could become more of a reality.

What had transpired in the last few hours within the medical facilities was something of carnage. Blood and limbs strewn about, the cries of the natives had echoed along the halls. Kyrel often feasting on the innards in order to satisfy his unholy bloodlust. Within the span of hours there was nothing but the sound of his boots that graced the halls.


The more he fed, the more he became stronger, even more so with the reverence this lone asteroid had. He felt a strong connection of the Force deep within this place. Echoes of the past reverberated in his mind, and soon he found himself sitting on a throne made of bones. Something crude to him, and yet often stood as a trademark of sorts of his never ending brutality.

When he was sated, He activated the nearest communications relay. Sending out a message to those that would answer the call. Those seeking glory, wealth, and power unlike any could imagine. For out here among the stars of the Outer Rim it was a new frontier. The Master of Ren intending to make use of the lawlessness to his full advantage.

Pheretha Ren

 

[Pheretha Ren]

Pheretha walked through the barren halls of Polis Massa, stepping over the broken bodies of the natives. Few of them had been granted good deaths, but such was the fate when the Knights of Ren were unleashed upon a foe. Finesse and grace were aspects lost on the Knights of Ren. Pheretha himself had given in to his more barbaric desires when the boarding ships had opened up on the medical workers, smugglers, and assorted individuals who had called Polis Massa their home. The slaughter, for it had not been anything resembling a battle, lasted for several hours as the Knights of Ren scoured every inch of the main facility of life, ensuring all was secure for the coming gathering.

Coming to the main room where Kyrel Ren was located, Pheretha extended his blood-covered, and gloved his right hand to the door hanging partially on its connections. With a jerk of his wrist, he tore the door off its remaining connections and sent it hurtling back down the hallway. Several bodies were crushed under the heavy impact, though he hardly noticed as he stepped into the room. It had looked tacky with only one side of the door remaining, easier and more effective to just leave it entirely open. It was not like there were many threats remaining on the station anymore.

Just threats to soon arrive.

Looking up at the Master of the Knights of Ren, Pheretha inclined his head briefly before walking to the side of his improvised throne. "My Master, I have distributed the remaining Knights of Ren across the station to hunt down the last few stragglers. There will be no interruptions for the gathering." Pheretha's voice echoed as a baritone today, lacking its usual voice changing at irregular intervals. The instability Pheretha usually had in his voice output set in his helmet had been locked down for today's meeting.

They needed to make a good showing.

Rul Tondar The Seer

 

[The Seer]

All of life is an act of violence and an act of gamble.

Blood, steel, blades of light, suffocation. All of these images passed through his mind’s eye as their ship sliced through space towards Polis Massa. The Seer sat in a dimly light, archaic chamber at the center of it all. The flashes repeated in, seemingly, nonsensical order. They revealed new pictures, new moments of what would come to be.

He’d seen it all back on Terminus. The death that would follow their new venture. The destruction and subjugation. Visceral screams and the sound of boots hitting the ground assailed and deafened his ears as all were cut down without regard for age, gender, or creed. A select few were spared of the carnage, those that would turn and see the error of their ways. Those that proved themselves to be useful in the grand scheme of the Father’s plan. Fear permeated these visions. Always fear, always the need for distinction.

None alive truly longed to be the person randomly selected to be the mode of catharsis for the good of the group.

His feet found solid ground and instantly, he felt the wave of agony wash over him as though he’d stepped out into the sunlight. Polis Massa had been selected as the sacrificial victim. Bloodlust was sated and thus, order could be re-established. And yet, there was another….

The Seer understood who and what it was. That much was revealed to him, and so, this manifestation came without surprise. The gaping maw that tugged at him from the depths of the facility, drawing him in. It felt almost consuming as the Vampirika stepped into the room and he saw the dark figure that had plagued his mind for weeks, constantly in and out of view. Knew him for what he was.

Ren.

The Seer stood there, expectantly. The Scions were called and he answered.

Kyrel Ren | Pheretha Ren | Rul Tondar​

 

[Muk Moadda]

He activated the nearest communications relay. Sending out a message to those that would answer the call.

The comms board lit up on Muk Moadda's freighter du jour, and not for the first time today. He'd been picking up weak, garbled distress calls from Polis Massa for a minute there. The new transmission was stronger but no less confusing.

After relaying the comm logs to various Spacer Guild associates, he made a quick jump off the nearest trade route to the Polis Massa medcenter.

The asteroid facility looked normal enough. He set a course to orbit it at a distance of a few kilometers. He opened a channel to the facility.

"Medcenter, this is the Wiggly Gorax, come in medcenter."

Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren The Seer

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Pyeth Raffinki

Tiland staggered where he stood and clutched his chest for a moment, letting himself sink slowly down into the chair at the back of the freighter's cockpit. The pilot looked back.

"You okay, Master Jedi?"

"I-I don't know," Tiland answered softly, closing his eyes for a moment before looking over towards Pyeth. "Did you sense anything?" What he had felt had been Dark. Some horrific act of violence had occurred not terribly far from them, and it had not been something he had had visions of beforehand.

At the moment, the comms channel lit up with an array of messages. Garbled distress signals forwarded from the Wiggly Gorax. Not a name he recognized, but the codes he recognized as being Guild. That meant something, at least. He'd never had an issue with any of the Spacer's Guild he'd met. As a whole, he found them trustworthy, in a roguish manner, at least. There was another one as well. Some sort of message. An invitation, which didn't make sense. Why send an invite to a distress signal?

"Captain," Tiland said after a moment, "Can you relay those messages to the nearest Church of the Force chapter and any Rescue Service vessels in range? I think there should be some likely refueling at Terminus. And if it's not too much of a challenge, could you redirect us to the source of these transmissions and drop us off?"

The burly Yarkora nodded and levered back on the hyperdrive, to slow its pace as he backtraced the messages.

"Polis Massa. Only a slight detour from our main route to Delrakkin."

Tiland just nodded and leaned back into the chair, his chin resting on a fist, as the course adjusted, and he felt the familiar leap into hyperspace as their course readjusted.

To what end, though, he could not guess.

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Dark Gathering​

Location: En-route to Distress Signal

Pyeth liked flying, but there was always something unnatural about Starships. They did not have wings, at least as he understood them and their technology sometimes felt arcane even after spending most of his adult life aboard one, let alone Hyperspace which might as well have been as magical as the Force had once been.

Often he tried to meditate, focusing upon the wind patterns that swirled and connected all life. He sometimes tried to trace those connections back to Rishi, an impossible task for one so fresh to its concepts but one he deemed worthwhile. Sometimes the currents would drag him away to some distant realms. Other times Pyeth would find himself distracted by the scent of his mentor's tea, at one point even wondering if it was intentional some manner of a test he wasn't yet familiar with.

Today, however, was different. It began a gentle breeze that rapidly accelerated into a storm of emotions raising suddenly then falling silent as if the storm consumed an island. For Pyeth it was an uncomfortable mystery, much like the tomb world of Oricon. Hearing Tilands gasp, Pyeth opened his eyes to a stranger.

He had never seen Tiland react like this to anything before, clutching his chest as though he was suffering a heart attack. Pyeth was quick to move to his side, "Are you okay?" He asked cautiously before answering his question, "I felt something," He confirmed, trying to work out how best to describe it.

Taking a step back, he listened as Tiland began issuing commands his ear tufts rising in concern, "Polis Massa? Mas- Tiland What will we find on Polis Massa?" He asked, watching the Yarkora punching in the new coordinates. Something was wrong...

Tag: Tiland Kortun

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

There was always work to be done. The Jedi turned Warden turned Explorer turned CEO was always on the look out on the comms for anything tricky that was incoming. As a result of her Warden life, she had chosen to remain on the Rim, rather than constantly follow the rest of the Clan to Kattada. She kept an eye on the Dawn Chaser and the ship was a working mobile port for the Wardens she knew.

She was aboard the home ship, and quickly made her way to her little freighter. Her YT Pulsar was ready and was following the coordinates, sending out a quick burst to any Light Siders who were not too far off from the old stomping grounds of the ORC. Really, she was close to Susevfi.

"Anyone around, you feel… that? Hear that?" She heard the message first, then realized that the sense of malaise was something else.

Tiland Kortun Muk Moadda Pyeth Raffinki

 

[Rul Tondar]

The Skakoan felt a push from within him to travel to Polis Massa, something was transpiring there, something he would not want to miss.

What was life but a string in time filled with bits of pain and suffering, the agony that kept one's self going thrusting them to the next checkpoint of life was what some called freedom but Rul called pleasure. Searching for his next dose of horror the Sith came to find many horrid places in the galaxy yet none could match this one. He almost smelt the suffering of the once-thriving med station he went through. It might not have been visible due to his decompression suit but, the maniac was exasperated at the thought that he missed out on the gruesome carnage. Oh, how happy that would have made the deranged Skakoan, to see the life extinguished from each and every one of these insufferable beings wasting air with their minimal tasks and fruitless ideas.

He stood over a particularly gruesome scene of horror. Rul tried his best to envision the way the being left this plane of reality but nothing came near to the real thing, thus he freed his frustration by mashing the body with his newly grasped ability of the force. The Sith could hear the individual's bones cracking, piercing the flesh around it as visual marks started appearing of his wounds. Although the body was long dead blood started gushing out once more, like a renewed fountain gifting water to a barren field. This was not enough as Rul crumbled the flesh piece into a ball as if it was paper. The unimaginable image of this orb of flesh and blood satisfied the maniac as an unseen smile covered his deranged face.

Being done with his little toy Rul moved on, he followed the intense stench of death and hate towards a room. Immense amounts of energy were surging within the chamber, powerful creatures occupied it, this he could tell. But the Sith was no longer scared; he moved with confidence and pride, entering the enclosure not saying a word, just observing the other occupants. It seemed he had come across a meeting of sorts, what a fun yarn he could spin with his time here, his life would change from here on out Rul could feel it.

Pheretha Ren The Seer Kyrel Ren

Theme By Annasari

 

[Eschara Ren]

Eschara wished the scum on this space rock would put up more of a fight. As it was, it was all too easy to slaughter them in droves. He didn't even need the Force, his strength and his war club were all that was necessary. Sure, it took longer, but that was part of the fun of it. He had to entertain himself somehow.

Some time later, Eschara made his way to the comms center, chuckling as he saw Kyrel Ren 's throne. His war club dripping with blood, he took his place alongside the other Knights. "Have a good hunt, Pheretha?" He asked Pheretha Ren casually as he rested one of his feet atop the skull of a dead native, nearly crushing it with his boot. "These runts made it way too easy. Maybe we'll get a real fight soon."

 

[Muk Moadda]

Meanwhile, on the airwaves—

"Medcenter, repeat, this is the Wiggly Gorax in a close orbit. I'm tracking some unexplained comm traffic to your position, probably from your transceiver."

As Muk spoke, he started getting into a bulky expeditionary space suit, the kind that could let you survive an orbital micrometeoroid hit. Probably. He squinted at the freighter's sensor displays.

"Medcenter, I'm reading radically fewer life signs than I expected. What is your situation, medcenter? Anyone, please respond."

Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Eschara Ren The Seer Rul Tondar Tiland Kortun @Pyeth

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel stood before the carnage and the havoc he had caused. All around him were nothing but bodies, blood and bones as the once quiet medical facilities had turned into a bloodbath. All the while the undead Master of Ren felt a sense of peace as he stood here. The same kind of peace that was attained. His bloodlust momentarily sated as for the gathering all types of evil lurking in outlying systems would be summoned here for a project deemed to be extraordinary.

He watched pleased as his right hand Ren emerged and spoke of how there would be no difficulties. With the rest of the Knights of Ren scouring the facilities for any survivors Kyrel wanted it to be nothing. He wanted everyone that was a witness to be silenced as he waited for more to arrive. He saw his Ren and even some arrive, one being in the form of a Skakoan. An unusual sight to see yet welcomed all those that could answer his call. “Good, for today marks a new beginning for the rim worlds. Today we make history here, and what better to than in blood.”

He grinned as he heard the comm buzz with transmissions. It seemed that it was not the only ones to have gained the signal, and soon like the flies to a spiders web they would be caught in a trap. The Master of Ren hesitated for a moment on how to respond to the transmission. He chose to let them eat static at first, not wishing to reveal himself too early. He could reach out, and feel that others were gaining an inkling that something was off, and so let that remain as such.

Instead he pressed another button on the damaged console. What came next after the static was an emergency distress signal, luring any of those unlucky or too curious to seek it out. The grin beneath the death mask grew. “Gentlemen, we hereby mark this gathering in blood.” He said with such vicious intent as he waited for the unfortunate to seek him out, and perhaps even offer some sport to those that would attend the gathering.

Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser The Seer Pyeth Raffinki Eschara Ren Pheretha Ren Rul Tondar

 

[Pheretha Ren]

Pheretha turned his head to the side, his mind alive with a seemingly never-ending wave of emotions. The pain, suffering, and terror the natives had felt playing across his mind like a symphony of the most exquisite kind. It took him a moment to distance himself from these feelings when Eschara Ren spoke to him, and he shook his head for a second before finally speaking. "A hunt it was, my brother. The natives here were more like animals fleeing from us than anything. I desire a good fight soon, otherwise, I will grow too bored." Kicking out with his right foot, Pheretha snapped the neck of an already dead native, mostly just to emphasize his point.

"You can only have so much fun hunting runts."

Turning his head back to the entrance of the chamber, Pheretha watched as first The Seer entered, then Rul Tondar not long after. A smile played across his face beneath the mask, and he turned his head sideways as he studied them both. He could feel the Dark Side radiating from them, the welcoming taint that he both cherished and despised. These two were the first, but they would not be the last, of that Pheretha was certain.

Turning his head to watch Kyrel Ren activate the distress beacon for the station, inviting in those who would come to save the unfortunate souls, Pheretha could not help laughing. The barking, brutal sound echoed within his helmet, and small trails of blood emerged beneath his helmet, trailing down his clothing as he looked back to the gathering. He wished to see the beginning of all this, the start of the cause that he and Kyrel held so dearly. Once that was done, he would go to take care of the guests that were certain to come.

Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

The Pulsar skipped off to lightspeed, making for full speed. Her ship was modified by her father, which meant it favored shields and speed over anything else. The ship was heading straight for Muk, and when she arrived in the suburbs of Polis Massa she could feel the darkness.

Something was dreadfully wrong here. She could feel the darkness and… the emptiness. Space and the void were dark and quiet, yes, but being born starside, and spending most of her life there, the young Mirialan knew a few things about how to sense life and planets through the Force. This… this was something wrong, something absent, not for what she could see.

There was a hunger here. Something draining…

Two vessels, hers and Muk Moadda that she could see as friendly. The rest… the odds weren't great.

And with that power... she wasn't sure where she was going to stand.

 

[Ikrarbytec]

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T H E D A R K C A L L I N G​

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If there was ever a person who embodied the core beliefs of Creation and Greed, then Dark Thane Lord Khohnuirrann Stormmantle was they. He had become the Sin of Greed and Creation, some say mad with intelligence rolled into one being. Affected with so called dragon's sickness due to his love of gold and gemstones topped no other. The Darkness was calling him, Son & Exile of Banathruon Thanehold now infested with skraal hordes who sit upon his rightful claim to the treasures linger since buried underneath the rubble of the great war that shook the planet so long ago. ​

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This calling would prove most beneficial to him in the end, for none could withstand the might of the Dark Dwarrow Foremaster. Arrogance and Pride clouded his judgement on weather this was a trap or not. However none could defy him, as he was a formidable warrior although lacking in skill with the force more than made up for it with his roundhouse fighting. Regardless of tactics or personal might, he would face his destiny head on never looking back to those that couldn't keep up with his own vision of the future as they weren't worth the oxygen from his lips. Touching down within Polis Massa, the calling had summoned him here and it would appear to him that the phantom of the place was a ravaging monster whose destiny laid clear in the balance before him, hanging between self oblivion or self actualization. ​

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The clanking of his armored boots across the floor, as he stepped over body over body without a care to look down. They were insects compared to the mighty dwarrow people, so says he that they were the mightiest species in the galaxy and the greatest of engineers. His armor blackened by the forge, encrusted and formidable steel packed tight with the dark side of the force. His twin power hammers hanged on his armored hips, hooked by dark chains. Human skulls hanged around his armor, once again hooked by chains black as night. His glowing red eyes shined within the hallways, following the trace of the dark side through those bloody halls.​

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He brushed his beard, blackened by years of the forge and smelled of brimstone. Finally making his way into the room to whom the ravaging monster sat upon his pile of bones, no doubt ripped from the spines from the innocents on the floor. The Dark Thane Lord made no sudden gesture of respect or even acknowledgement to those within the room, to whom was he to spill his secrets to strangers to whom could plot his downfall. For now he would blend into the shadows of the room, using his short frame to appear un-intimidating to survey the current room. Spotting several to whom he didn't recognize nor care too unless they offered him something of value for his travel. ( Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Eschara Ren Rul Tondar The Seer)​

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The Dark Calling was mysterious and it would not be too long, until the real show started...​

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Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki ​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Kaia Starchaser Muk Moadda Pyeth Raffinki
The Seer Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Eschara Ren Rul Tondar Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI

"Something terrible, I think, Pyeth," Tiland said, letting out a slow breath to let the many sensations drain out of his body. "A great crime committed in the name of the Dark Side. Some Sith, some cultists, I cannot guess who, or why. Polis Mass is a small facility, mostly known for mining and a small hospital. It has no strategic or monetary value, which makes whatever happened all the worse."

He knotted his hands around the wood of his staff as his eye gazed out the window. "I fear we may need to prepare ourselves." With one hand, he moved to finger the talismans he wore- a Jedi confessional, a piece of the Golden Sun, and the pendant of the Jedi Pilgrims.

Tiland could sense the others, elsewhere. The other Pilgrims, both the ones of the League and those who traveled with Jend-Ro Quill . He paused for a moment and recaptured the sensation and the information through the pendants, so that others would receive word and have the information.

"The Service is redirecting a frigate to Polis Mass in support," the captain said, causing Tiland to open his eyes. "And the closest patrol squadron is being redirected to support Terminus should there be a follow-up assault."

"Very good," Tiland said softly, picking up the messages from Kaia, and sending a short reply that he was en route. It would be nice to have Audren Sykes or Jerek Zenduu or Dair Cotarin <inactive> or any of the others, but he was not sure where they were.

It would not be long now. Tiland closed his eyes, then forced them open, and gave a smile to Pyeth. "Well, I suppose now would be a time to make a meditative tea ceremony until we arrive, as a way of clearing our minds and grounding ourselves in the moment. We must not let fear control us or worry weaken our resolve."

 

[Muk Moadda]

The new distress beacon squawked around the time Muk sealed the final clasp on his helmet. Leaving the Wiggly Gorax in its orbit around the medcenter asteroid, the Mon Cal ship thief hopped out the airlock.

For jobs like these he liked redundancy: a full-sized thruster pack, a thruster belt, and a thruster pistol. The pistol was a gas canister with a handgrip, the cheapest zero-gee maneuvering rig in existence. He tucked it beside his actual pistol and used the backpack to approach the asteroid.

The closer he got, the medcenter looked like feth itself. Blood and char smeared the inside of the windows, and strange ships with diverse aggressive designs filled the docking bays. Muk and his blaster pistol started to feel a little underdressed.

But hey. He wasn't here to fight.

He touched down gently just outside the nearest docking bay's atmospheric field and disabled it, flooding the bay with hard vacuum. He might not recognize most of these ships, but half of them had standard-looking secure airlocks.

Picking a ship at random, he pulled out some bits of electronic nonsense and got to work stealing it.


OOC/ Could easily be an NPC Ren ship he's stealing, or one of yours, I'm down with whatever. Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren The Seer Eschara Ren Rul Tondar Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI

 

[Shade of Decay]

Wherever the walls between what Was and what Was Not grew thin, he found it easiest to manifest his presence. It was a pointless distinction, of course; all things were of the Force, and the Force was in all things...but for the average denizen of the galaxy, that omnipresent energy was tantamount to something supernatural. Something impossible. Despite millennia of recorded history proving otherwise, the rarity of controlling it, grasping it, harnessing it, it was still so profoundly uncommon that in many places it was considered more myth than reality.

And as he sped through the halls of Polis Massa, a cloud of decay, some might call him a ghost. Or a vengeful spirit.

It did not rightly matter.

Those bodies he passed over, of any species, even droids, were rapidly subject to the decay carried behind him. Metal pitted and rusted, durasteel armour becoming pocked with holes as it flaked away. Bodies began to liquefy, bacteria and fungus blooming nearly instantly. None of it mattered; each was dead anyways. Those still-living combatants he passed were afflicted with a sudden sickness, nausea, pain; but as quickly as he passed, so did the affliction.

None of them were of importance to him. Not in truth. There was one on the asteroid that had the projection's attention, him and the events that he was setting in motion. The theatrics of it all were...perhaps overdone. But no doubt, it would prove somewhat effective. A statement made against a galaxy tha had long since rejected the Knights of Ren, having seen nothing but weakness. But now their leader was returned, his body repaired, his mind brought back from death's domain none knew how many times.

Yet there was one small problem.

Destruction, that was the purpose of the Master of the Knights of Ren. Lord Kyrel, the weapon, the hungering monster, the slavering beast. Yet it seemed once again he turned his mind to thoughts that should not be allowed.

"Dominion."

The word came out like a curse.

"Conquest."

Both were naught but a whisper on the wind, unlikely even for Lord Kyrel himself to hear. But the cloud that ever hovered over the Master of Ren was near him again, watching, and silently—

At least, for the moment.

—passing judgement.

 

[CETCOM]

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O P E R A T I O N_B L A C K W I N G
Chapter 7 : Dark Gathering

FINAL DAWN
UTAPAU , OUTER RIM

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The Outer Rim , once a bastion of peace and stability under the former CIS and OPA , now a lawless area slowly being carved up by various organizations who sought to take advantage of the situation. Groups such as the New Horizon Shipping Combine on Andelm IV , or the Final Dawn on Seswenna and just recently the Knights of Ren on Polis Massa. Since the Gungan Uprising led by Zinn Zinn Bink'sa , the Final Dawn had been slowly increasing it's presence in the Outer Rim establishing Proxy Corporations such as the Intergalactic Shipping Collective and building up a powerful Expeditionary Fleet known as Task Force Tyrannus to deal with any organizations that would oppose them such as the Rimward Trade League or the Elysium Empire. For a while , the Final Dawn had opted to keep a low profile , focusing it's efforts in the Greater Seswenna Sector in order to further solidify their position there first before moving outwards.

Over Utapau , a Single Invector-Class Monitor Frigate lay in orbit conducting it's routine patrol within the System. This Planet was home to the Sith Imperium ,a Sith-led Imperial Splinter Group headed by a certain Darth Vird which was indirectly affiliated with the Final Dawn having granted them access to their Shipyards on the Planet. Since then the Final Dawn had used this World to keep tabs on ongoing developments nearby especially in regards to the Rise of the Lux Astra Corporate Authority and it's growing conflict with the Rimward Trade League which the Final Dawn had taken a great interest in. As the Ship was proceeded to it's usual routine of monitoring Fleet Movements of the RTL and Intercepting and Analysing Communications from the RTL , it picked up a transmission coming from the Planetoid known as Polis Massa although what caught the interest of the Captain of the Monitor Frigate was not the source of the transmission but instead it's contents.

"Captain Choi , you might want to see this" one of the Bridge Officers said trying to catch the attention of the Captain of the Monitor Frigate , Quentin Choi. Choi then approached the Lieutenant who called him out and then proceeded to respond. "What do you have for me Lieutenant?" the Captain asked. "We have intercepted a Transmission coming from the Polis Massa Planetoid. At first i thought it was from the Rimward Trade League due to Polis Massa's Proximity to Terminus , a well-known ally of the Rimward Trade League , but instead the contents of this transmission points towards another group , the Knights of Ren." the Lieutenant said. Quentin Choi raised an eyebrow clearly intrigued by this statement. "The Knights of Ren? Like the ones led by Kyrel Ren?" the Captain. "Yes , and it seems like Kyrel Ren sent the message out himself." the Lieutenant said. "This is an unexpected yet interesting development. Get in touch with the FEDF at Seswenna and inform them of the situation" Captain Choi said. The Lieutenant simply responded with "Yes , Captain" before getting back to work.

Captain Choi had so many questions in his mind such as Why were the Knights of Ren here? What did they want? Was Kyrel trying to build a new Army to support the Crimson Hands? or was he planning something more sinister? Nevertheless those answers would soon be answered once the FEDF took care of the matter. For now his job was to monitor communications and the nearby movements of the Rimward Trade League , and he had no intention to get involved in whatever the Wrath of the Maw was planning

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Tags [Good Guys] | Muk Moadda | Tiland Kortun | Kaia Starchaser | Pyeth Raffinki
Tags [KoR/BoD] | Kyrel Ren | Pheretha Ren | Shade of Decay | Rul Tondar | Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI | The Seer ​

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[The Seer]

ALLIES: Kyrel Ren | Pheretha Ren | Rul Tondar | Eschara Ren | Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI | CETCOM
NEUTRAL: Shade of Decay
ENEMIES: Muk Moadda | Tiland Kortun | Kaia Starchaser | Pyeth Raffinki

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Curious and cautious eyes sweeped the room as first Rul Tondar and then Eschara Ren made themselves known the the current trio in the chamber. For a moment, he was content to listen as silver cut through the Darkness that permeated the medical compound. Scowling at the banter between the Knights, he quipped. “That was no hunt. That was an extermination.”

The prophet watched and listened as the elder of the Knights spoke. That specific Ren that appeared in his visions. A new undertaking came with new allies, even if those alliances were temporary ones at best. A flash of blue light invaded his mind. Jedi. Not an unwelcome prospect to the Vampyre. Obstacles and hurdles to overcome from his experience as an agent under Andar while she yet lived.

The button had been pressed as another entered their midsts. With that signal, he knew that, soon, the Father would feed once more. Perhaps He was not yet sated with the carnage that already occurred. What would come to be would be an even greater offering. One wrought with struggle, genuine fight, and the souls of the Light. “That was no hunt. But, this shall be.” The Seer made his way to the center of the room. He sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the entrance to the room just a few yards from the skull throne of the Master of Ren.

“Prepare.”

He gave only that short warning before silver eyes melted into blazing embers as he opened himself to the raging Dark. A deep breath was drawn and he willed the energy to flow in and through him, willing himself into the perfect conduit before exuding the intention outward. First to those in the room and then to the hallways and rooms of the forsaken medcenter.

“You will be able when the sons and daughters of Ashla arrive.”​

 

[Ikrarbytec]

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T H E D A R K C A L L I N G​

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It would seem that this calling was no mere conjecture, fate had willed them together to arrive on this forsaken place and earn their rightful place among the stars. Away from savagery of wars and petty fiefdoms of sith lords. Although this small gathering of theirs was not mighty in a traditional sense, they each had something to bring to the offering table. Chief among them himself, the Dark Thane Lord and Forgemaster of Banathruon. He considered his craftsmanship to be the best within the galaxy and no one would doubt him, else they face his infernal machines of war made with iron and brimstone. Brushing his thick beard some more as the ashes kept falling out of it, keeping a watchful eye on his new companions.​

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Something caught his attention and held it there, a lingering sickness seemed to flood within him until it vanished as quickly as it came. Something was not right, but he would not display his curiosity for fear of giving the other members within the room some ammunition to use against him later down the line. Peering his glowing red eyes towards the master of this gathering, high upon his mountain of bones. This primordial monster would be the headmaster of this gathering he supposed, although he was no doubt strong. The Dark Dwarrow proclaimed unto himself that he was the toughest around due to his hardy biology. Although he knew that he was at a disadvantage in the fact that conjuring the force would quickly turn him into stone. He would have his dues in gold and gemstones by any means necessary and he wasn't above fighting dirty to achieve his overall goals.​

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Stepping out of the shadows of the room as (The Seer) sat cross legged on the floor, no doubt preparing to unleash foul sorcery upon the opponents incoming towards them. The Dwarrow Forgemaster cared little for increased strength or supposed battle assistance, he would fight with the hardness of his people and the soul of a rancor if he encountered a foe amongst the halls. The power washed over him like a tidal wave as the boost from the battle meditation would almost make him seem like the strongest being in the world. Unhooking his dual power hammers from his belt and holding them within his hands. Taking out a long pole like attachment and attaching the two power hammers into the modified slots until he had a polearm weapon of deadly power. Holding it like a staff now, so that he could have an unoccupied hand. ​

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"If the Children of Ashla arrive on our doorsteps, then we shall bleed them dry to send a message. Gia Eeth Flames Avor Orzra Commence!" He quickly spoke, his last statement was in the common dwarrow language, roughly translated into (Let the Flames of Battle Commence). A proud dwarrow battlemaster that he was, but he was careful not to say that he wouldn't win without effort. The Children of Ashla were formidable but compared to the hardiness of the dwarrow of the tingel arm, they were but simple guppies within the pond. ​

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ALLIES: The Seer Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Rul Tondar Eschara Ren CETCOM ​

NEUTRAL: Shade of Decay ​

ENEMIES: Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki ​