Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Junction The Divide | TSC & TSO & ME Junction of Carratos, Ank Kit'aar, Sarka | IC
- Thread starter Mercy
- Start date
Bloodsteel Ballerina
Thread Objective: Into the Depths
Mission Objective:
- Investigate the ancient tomb complex and the Netherworld incursion.
- Document tomb iconography and architecture.
- Retrieve Sith artifacts or arcane texts.
Lyssara Talis
Rorie
Using the ultra-high fidelity combat camera integrated into her eye mask, Aistrella took images of the various iconography, symbols, and hieroglyphs etched into the walls. The markings all but confirmed what she had begun to suspect: this was, in fact, a Sith temple.
But how had it gotten here, of all places?
“There are many such Nether-beasts in the area,” Aistrella added after Lyssara finished her response to the red-haired woman’s question, her tone carrying a soft, melodic quality. “There were ard’Ghuul Nether Ghouls earlier, but those were not aggressive, since they had already found brains to feed on. Still, we may be liable to encounter more such Nether-beasts, the deeper we progress into the rupture.”
She glanced towards Lyssara and nodded to indicate that she was finished. However, thinking that the Miraluka might not fully perceive the gesture due to her blindness, she decided to speak up as well.
“Okay. I am ready to continue,” Aistrella said, her voice steady and composed. “I will move at the back, to cover our rear,” the blade dancer added.
- Midnight Graveglass
- Arms
- Velocity-7 Dart Shooter - L Forearm
- Mk. I Saberdart - Blood Boiler Payload (6)
- Explosive Dart (6)
- FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - R Forearm
- Velocity-7 Dart Shooter - L Forearm
- Arms
- Midnight Harmony (2)
- Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)
- FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
cuckoo bananas
OBJECTIVE 1: THE WAR COUNCIL
IMMEDIATE TAG: Srina Talon Aether Verd Adelle Bastiel
Arris Windrun
Quinn VaraninIMMEDIATE REPRESENTATIVES:
Mia Monroe
Lirka Ka Gerwald Lechner Taeli RaafLOCATION: On board the Tyranny
OBJECTIVE TAG: Srina Talon
Arris Windrun
Quinn Varanin Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual
Aria Talorien
Lysander von Ascania
Cassilde Vortayn
Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel
Mia Monroe
Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd I am so sorry if I missed anyone needed, tag list BIG CHONK. .
Mercy had always said she hated this sort of affair.
It was why Arris had been the point person to start the dialogue with the Mandalorian Empire. It was why most diplomacy between the Sith Order and Sith Covenant had been left to their Empresses. Mercy loathed wasting her time talking, when she could fill it with killing and destroying.
It was a pleasant surprise to her how smoothly this meeting was going then.
Nobody was being a pain in her arse. They all seemed equally interested in making this happen. Thinking about how well it was going was a recipe for jinxing it, of course, but Mercy was doing her best not to think about that at least. The Mandalorians wanted intelligence, her eyes flicked to the Sith Order representatives who supplied it immediately. Then back to the reaction of the Mandalorians at the new knowledge.
Srina offering her wisdom, Arris voicing exactly what Mercy herself felt.
It truly was going well.
She was about to say something, but then
Mia Monroe
decided to open her big fat mouth. She had already made herself known to Mercy on Hapes. Thin-skinned, bratty and frankly in need of a good punch in the face, maybe several. The size of the chip on her shoulder was enough to rival even Mercy's ego.Mercy had decided she liked her.
This wasn't that surprising.
Arris Windrun
was her best friend and that expressed itself by beating each other to absolute shit, until neither could walk proper for a day or two after."Cousins, interesting choice of words..." Mercy repeated as she watched the Warmaster across the treasure-covered table. "You are right. They did choose their path. One that made them cross into my backyard and set it on fire. See, I don't mind a fight, but I do mind having to deal with mongrels who can't identify one group from another."
It was ironic to Mercy how these Kestrians picked a fight with a group of Sith that hadn't even existed during the genocide of Mandalore, all while screeching that it was about Mandalore.
"All that is to say, I am glad you appreciate my sentiment." She smiled and then her gaze flicked back to the Mand'alor.
No wonder one was the Mand'alor and the other was the Warmaster. Their relationship was rather mirrored in the one between herself and Windrun.
Velvet glove and iron fist.
"Terms, indeed." Mercy glanced towards Srina, squeezing her hand back, appreciating the reassurance. Yes. She still existed. She was still alive.
"I wasn't joking when I announced my intent to our people back there." Gesturing with her head towards the halls filled with Mandalorians and Sith arguing, drinking and forming bonds between one another.
"I want to make this Galaxy tremble. An alliance between our three sides that will make anyone think twice before they step to one of our nations." She smiled, a touch more hungry now. "An attack on one of us becomes an attack on all of us." Each one of them had at least one if not multiple challenges in the Galaxy.
The Kestrian Mandalorians nipping at the Sith Covenant's heels.
The Jedi fomenting rebellions in Mandalorian Empire territories.
The Imperials rising once again... in exactly the same place as the last time they bothered the Sith Order.
They all had threats on their borders that were waiting until one of them slipped and showed weakness or vulnerability.
"Common cause. We unite as much as our appetites allow. We break the barriers between our nations. The iron warriors of Mandalore respected and encouraged to ply their trade, offering their wisdom and knowledge of war. The Mandalorians of Mandalore, the Sith of Jutrand and Coruscant growing their power throughout our territories, as long as they aren't backed by their state, being allowed to put down roots and claim worlds for their own powerbase."
It would give all of them a stake in one another beyond just words. If a Mandalorian Warlord ruled a world in the Core, they'd be more eager to make sure the Core was protected from outside attacks. The other way around too. Words were wind, promises were only as effective as the current turn of history.
Material conditions, personal stakes of blood and iron. That is what would make this different. If the others in the room saw things her way.
The smile turned into a smirk.
"Nobody ever said I wasn't ambitious. But tell me I am wrong, tell me this wouldn't strengthen our people and prepare our nations against any threat this Galaxy has to offer."
Rogue Wolf
Location: Abregado-rae
Ace's eyes settled on the drunk Sith almost immediately. Perfect. His attention stayed locked on the man as Kyla began explaining her idea, already watching how freely he talked and how desperately the person beside him seemed to want out of the conversation. Then a voice cut through everything.
Ace turned. Unlike Kyla, he didn't snap upright. His posture straightened with practiced familiarity as he faced the older officer, offering the appropriate Covenant salute.
"Ma'am."
Then Kyla saluted. Wrong. Ace's eyes flicked sideways, and without changing his expression, he subtly knocked the back of his hand against her arm. The officer approached, sniffed the air before apparently determining that neither of them had been drinking.
Go and relieve checkpoint Cresh.
Ace had to fight not to sigh. Of fucking course.
"Already assigned, ma'am." The answer came smoothly. "We're rounding up sober personnel for the next rotation. Half the people we've checked aren't fit to stand a post."
Considering the state of the encampment around them, it wasn't particularly difficult to believe. But the woman's eyes narrowed, not at Kyla this time, at him. Ace felt something cold settle in his stomach. She stared for several seconds, her expression gradually shifting from irritation toward uncertain recognition.
"Have we met?"
"No, ma'am."
"I know your face."
Ace didn't move as her gaze traveled over him again. White dreadlocks. Freckles. The X shaped scar that cut through his left cheek. Something almost clicked.
"Moon--"
Ace held her gaze. Then the officer's brow furrowed and she shook her head.
"No. Never mind." Her attention moved between them again. "Fine. Keep looking. I want Cresh relieved before the next rotation."
"Understood."
She turned away and Ace maintained the salute until she'd taken several steps, then finally lowered his hand. Only then did he breathe again. His eyes slid toward Kyla.
"Drunk Sith." He whispered, nodding subtly toward their original target.
Kyla Deth
Ace turned. Unlike Kyla, he didn't snap upright. His posture straightened with practiced familiarity as he faced the older officer, offering the appropriate Covenant salute.
"Ma'am."
Then Kyla saluted. Wrong. Ace's eyes flicked sideways, and without changing his expression, he subtly knocked the back of his hand against her arm. The officer approached, sniffed the air before apparently determining that neither of them had been drinking.
Go and relieve checkpoint Cresh.
Ace had to fight not to sigh. Of fucking course.
"Already assigned, ma'am." The answer came smoothly. "We're rounding up sober personnel for the next rotation. Half the people we've checked aren't fit to stand a post."
Considering the state of the encampment around them, it wasn't particularly difficult to believe. But the woman's eyes narrowed, not at Kyla this time, at him. Ace felt something cold settle in his stomach. She stared for several seconds, her expression gradually shifting from irritation toward uncertain recognition.
"Have we met?"
"No, ma'am."
"I know your face."
Ace didn't move as her gaze traveled over him again. White dreadlocks. Freckles. The X shaped scar that cut through his left cheek. Something almost clicked.
"Moon--"
Ace held her gaze. Then the officer's brow furrowed and she shook her head.
"No. Never mind." Her attention moved between them again. "Fine. Keep looking. I want Cresh relieved before the next rotation."
"Understood."
She turned away and Ace maintained the salute until she'd taken several steps, then finally lowered his hand. Only then did he breathe again. His eyes slid toward Kyla.
"Drunk Sith." He whispered, nodding subtly toward their original target.
Kyla DethDarth X'aviera
“A Gen’Dai?” Revna repeated with a faint grimace. That had been this woman’s opponent?! Thankfully, Eleanor continued and filled in the gaps for Revna, painting a better picture of just how she had managed to find herself fighting such a being in the first place.
“Don’t know if you’ve ever fought one, but they're a royal pain in the ass to kill. And…”
That was the moment that Revna’s attention was briefly pulled away to the newcomers that entered the cantina. Eleanor must have noticed the shift in awareness, for the words she was about to say died on her lips and she gave a subtle tilt of her head as if to look towards whatever had caught Revna’s attention.
Several things became clear, almost all at once.
The atmosphere of the entire cantina shifted; other patrons went quiet, conversations dying away until the music became the loudest thing in the establishment. The newest arrivals seemed harmless at first glance, but Revna noticed the same thing Eleanor did: they were all keeping their hands close to their sides, likely within reach of weapons they had hidden away on them.
The little woman continued to observe from the edge of her vision, taking another sip of her drink and feeling the heat of it swim around in the pit of her stomach and burn in the center of her chest.
Two of the new arrivals, a couple of men, seemed to mutter something to one another before splitting up, one of them making their way towards the main bar to talk to a patron who’d been sitting there the entire time Revna had been in the cantina.
The corner of her lip faintly twitched upward; it seemed that something shady was afoot, and likely was going to end disastrously and in a hail of blasterfire. The thought of that almost made Revna giddy; she would love a good show of entertainment right about now.
“They’re trying to act casual, but you can see the tension in their bodies. And something tells me they’re not fellow Sith.” Eleanor murmured quietly to Revna. The little Marr returned her gaze back to the girl across from her, and smirked slightly.
“No, definitely not Sith. Local gangsters or bounty hunters, perhaps. Something tells me that this cantina is about to be lit up though. I can feel it along my spine.”
Other patrons must have sensed something was brewing, for a few got up, paid their tabs and left while keeping their heads down. Revna’s smirk turned into a wicked grin as an expression of anticipation flickered across her face.
“I guess we shall see what happens next. But I have a feeling we will be needing our weapons here soon.”
From the corner of her eye, the little Marr noticed one of the men shift in his head and look over his shoulder, at them. Then he looked away, and Revna noticed two others who had come in peel away and begin a slow walk towards the table where she and Eleanor sat.
Yeah - things were about to get interesting, that was for sure.
“Don’t know if you’ve ever fought one, but they're a royal pain in the ass to kill. And…”
That was the moment that Revna’s attention was briefly pulled away to the newcomers that entered the cantina. Eleanor must have noticed the shift in awareness, for the words she was about to say died on her lips and she gave a subtle tilt of her head as if to look towards whatever had caught Revna’s attention.
Several things became clear, almost all at once.
The atmosphere of the entire cantina shifted; other patrons went quiet, conversations dying away until the music became the loudest thing in the establishment. The newest arrivals seemed harmless at first glance, but Revna noticed the same thing Eleanor did: they were all keeping their hands close to their sides, likely within reach of weapons they had hidden away on them.
The little woman continued to observe from the edge of her vision, taking another sip of her drink and feeling the heat of it swim around in the pit of her stomach and burn in the center of her chest.
Two of the new arrivals, a couple of men, seemed to mutter something to one another before splitting up, one of them making their way towards the main bar to talk to a patron who’d been sitting there the entire time Revna had been in the cantina.
The corner of her lip faintly twitched upward; it seemed that something shady was afoot, and likely was going to end disastrously and in a hail of blasterfire. The thought of that almost made Revna giddy; she would love a good show of entertainment right about now.
“They’re trying to act casual, but you can see the tension in their bodies. And something tells me they’re not fellow Sith.” Eleanor murmured quietly to Revna. The little Marr returned her gaze back to the girl across from her, and smirked slightly.
“No, definitely not Sith. Local gangsters or bounty hunters, perhaps. Something tells me that this cantina is about to be lit up though. I can feel it along my spine.”
Other patrons must have sensed something was brewing, for a few got up, paid their tabs and left while keeping their heads down. Revna’s smirk turned into a wicked grin as an expression of anticipation flickered across her face.
“I guess we shall see what happens next. But I have a feeling we will be needing our weapons here soon.”
From the corner of her eye, the little Marr noticed one of the men shift in his head and look over his shoulder, at them. Then he looked away, and Revna noticed two others who had come in peel away and begin a slow walk towards the table where she and Eleanor sat.
Yeah - things were about to get interesting, that was for sure.
Eleanor
NEMESIS
The phantom hounds had surrounded Seren, their collective muzzles pressed to her head. Their closeness bothered Nemesis at least in part. If they attacked, there would be little time to react. But as he waited and watched, his minor misgivings began to wane.
The hounds searched for who she was. Not titles, monikers, or even actions. They searched for intention. They found her soul. And what they found didn't make the ethereal hair on their spines rise. Instead, they delved deeper to see the duality of who she was. Silence fell in their wake. And then something stirred. Nemesis gripped the unignited greatsaber in his hands.
And then the creatures acted.
Long, spectral tongues reached out and licked Seren's face. The phantom hounds lowered to the ground near her, small whines escaping from transparent snouts as they seemingly decided that Seren was worthy of their obedience. A small sigh of breath escaped Nemesis as he allowed his arms to relax, the cylinder in one hand remaining quenched. "It would appear they have chosen. Congratulations." Whether he was congratulating the hounds or Seren, it was unclear.
His head turned as the inverted twister grew nearer, and he snapped the fingers of his free hand—the two hunter packs organized behind his giant form, coalescing into a single pack. A small smile creased the corners of his mouth as he gave a slight nod of satisfaction. "The shadow hounds have found their shadow-soul master. Let us go before the sands seek to claim us for eternity."
His head motioned toward the upside-down tornado before moving along the crest of the dunes to retrace their steps. The greasy dog of black smoke extending from the valley had grown quite near the Sith troopers at the gate. The soldiers grew restless and wary, which made Nemesis sigh again. It would have to be dealt with first—a minor inconvenience.
As his boots pushed the sands beneath his feet, he spoke over his shoulder. "When we approach, keep yourself free of the mist. For your own sake."
When they crossed the border of the Sands of Despair, the rising grains ceased their relentless assault on their forms. The miscellaneous sand on his beskar'gam sizzled like dying embers and flaked off like ash, falling to the ground like desiccated, ruined snowflakes. Their footprints were no longer visible. A cool wind whistled from the darkened valley and swept their passage clean while also sending the dog toward the gate.
At their approach, Nemesis rested his free hand on his belt before glancing at the mist, which stopped, rolling vertically as though it had collided with an invisible barrier. It had. A telekinetic wall ceased its advance. Nemesis glanced toward Seren, an unspoken reminder of his previous words. His second objective had come to him.
Seren Gwyn
The hounds searched for who she was. Not titles, monikers, or even actions. They searched for intention. They found her soul. And what they found didn't make the ethereal hair on their spines rise. Instead, they delved deeper to see the duality of who she was. Silence fell in their wake. And then something stirred. Nemesis gripped the unignited greatsaber in his hands.
And then the creatures acted.
Long, spectral tongues reached out and licked Seren's face. The phantom hounds lowered to the ground near her, small whines escaping from transparent snouts as they seemingly decided that Seren was worthy of their obedience. A small sigh of breath escaped Nemesis as he allowed his arms to relax, the cylinder in one hand remaining quenched. "It would appear they have chosen. Congratulations." Whether he was congratulating the hounds or Seren, it was unclear.
His head turned as the inverted twister grew nearer, and he snapped the fingers of his free hand—the two hunter packs organized behind his giant form, coalescing into a single pack. A small smile creased the corners of his mouth as he gave a slight nod of satisfaction. "The shadow hounds have found their shadow-soul master. Let us go before the sands seek to claim us for eternity."
His head motioned toward the upside-down tornado before moving along the crest of the dunes to retrace their steps. The greasy dog of black smoke extending from the valley had grown quite near the Sith troopers at the gate. The soldiers grew restless and wary, which made Nemesis sigh again. It would have to be dealt with first—a minor inconvenience.
As his boots pushed the sands beneath his feet, he spoke over his shoulder. "When we approach, keep yourself free of the mist. For your own sake."
When they crossed the border of the Sands of Despair, the rising grains ceased their relentless assault on their forms. The miscellaneous sand on his beskar'gam sizzled like dying embers and flaked off like ash, falling to the ground like desiccated, ruined snowflakes. Their footprints were no longer visible. A cool wind whistled from the darkened valley and swept their passage clean while also sending the dog toward the gate.
At their approach, Nemesis rested his free hand on his belt before glancing at the mist, which stopped, rolling vertically as though it had collided with an invisible barrier. It had. A telekinetic wall ceased its advance. Nemesis glanced toward Seren, an unspoken reminder of his previous words. His second objective had come to him.
Seren GwynSeren Gwyn
White Star
Seren had prepared herself for judgment, but not for several enormous spectral tongues sweeping across her face. Her eyes closed reflexively at the first lick, surprise breaking through the composure she had maintained throughout the hounds' examination. When she opened them again, the great creatures were lowering themselves around her rather than tearing into her, their quiet whines replacing the oppressive silence that had accompanied their search through her memories. For several heartbeats, Seren simply remained where she was among them, absorbing what their decision meant. They had been given every opportunity to see what she preferred not to show. The Jedi she had been, the darkness she had chosen, the violence she was capable of, the boundaries she had kept, the people she loved, and the contradictions she had never entirely resolved. They had seen all of it and chosen her anyway.
A quiet smile finally touched her lips as she lifted a hand toward the nearest hound, offering it the same open connection she had before rather than immediately treating its acceptance as ownership. Something about being entrusted with creatures that could not be commanded through title or allegiance felt humbling, especially here, where so much of what Tobias had been trying to teach her suddenly felt tangible. "I'm not certain congratulations is the right word." Seren glanced toward him, then back at the spectral forms gathered around her. "But I am honored." She rose carefully among them, still maintaining the barrier that kept every grain of the Sands of Despair away from her skin. Whatever relationship had just begun between herself and the phantom hounds, she had no desire to cheapen their choice by immediately assuming obedience meant possession.
Tobias's warning and the approaching inverted storm gave her ample reason not to linger. Seren followed as they retraced their path across the dunes, curious to see whether the hounds came readily with her while leaving that choice to them. His earlier lesson remained with her as she walked. Titles had consequences, and she wasn't prepared to dismiss them as completely irrelevant, but the creatures behind her had known none of those distinctions when they searched her. They had found something beneath Jedi, Sith, Gwyn, Eryndis, Countess, and everything else the galaxy might call her, then judged it by standards entirely their own. She suspected she would be considering that lesson long after they escaped this place.
Only when they crossed beyond the Sands of Despair and the last grains ceased their assault did Seren let the close barrier around her fall. Her attention immediately shifted to the unnatural black mist rolling toward the gate. Tobias's warning had been simple enough, and after what she had just learned about this realm, Seren had no inclination to discover the consequences by experimentation. She kept well outside its reach, watching as the advancing darkness abruptly climbed against an invisible boundary and understanding the telekinetic barrier for what it was.
His glance in her direction earned a small nod. "I remember." Seren made no attempt to approach the mist, instead remaining clear of it with the phantom hounds and turning her attention toward Tobias. She had accepted his lesson in the dunes. She was equally willing to accept his advice here, especially when he plainly knew considerably more about what was approaching them than she did. Whatever the black mist was, Seren could wait to learn about it without touching it first.
Tobias Dib
A quiet smile finally touched her lips as she lifted a hand toward the nearest hound, offering it the same open connection she had before rather than immediately treating its acceptance as ownership. Something about being entrusted with creatures that could not be commanded through title or allegiance felt humbling, especially here, where so much of what Tobias had been trying to teach her suddenly felt tangible. "I'm not certain congratulations is the right word." Seren glanced toward him, then back at the spectral forms gathered around her. "But I am honored." She rose carefully among them, still maintaining the barrier that kept every grain of the Sands of Despair away from her skin. Whatever relationship had just begun between herself and the phantom hounds, she had no desire to cheapen their choice by immediately assuming obedience meant possession.
Tobias's warning and the approaching inverted storm gave her ample reason not to linger. Seren followed as they retraced their path across the dunes, curious to see whether the hounds came readily with her while leaving that choice to them. His earlier lesson remained with her as she walked. Titles had consequences, and she wasn't prepared to dismiss them as completely irrelevant, but the creatures behind her had known none of those distinctions when they searched her. They had found something beneath Jedi, Sith, Gwyn, Eryndis, Countess, and everything else the galaxy might call her, then judged it by standards entirely their own. She suspected she would be considering that lesson long after they escaped this place.
Only when they crossed beyond the Sands of Despair and the last grains ceased their assault did Seren let the close barrier around her fall. Her attention immediately shifted to the unnatural black mist rolling toward the gate. Tobias's warning had been simple enough, and after what she had just learned about this realm, Seren had no inclination to discover the consequences by experimentation. She kept well outside its reach, watching as the advancing darkness abruptly climbed against an invisible boundary and understanding the telekinetic barrier for what it was.
His glance in her direction earned a small nod. "I remember." Seren made no attempt to approach the mist, instead remaining clear of it with the phantom hounds and turning her attention toward Tobias. She had accepted his lesson in the dunes. She was equally willing to accept his advice here, especially when he plainly knew considerably more about what was approaching them than she did. Whatever the black mist was, Seren could wait to learn about it without touching it first.
Tobias DibNEMESIS
The giant stood silently, watching the oily black mist crash unceremoniously against the telekinetic barrier. Behind him, the dozen troopers observed with trepidation. Well, at least half their number did. His words drifted over his shoulder. "Carve the sigil now." Without hesitation, six of their number pulled small knives from their belts and carved a tri-circle symbol into their foreheads. Once finished, the marked ones stepped forward to array behind Nemesis. He could taste their fear.
His hand stayed at his belt as he let a small portion of the invisible wall open, allowing a small amount of the dark smoke to writhe forward. Small pockets of mist drifted to the feet of each of the marked troopers behind Nemesis. With a sudden spin, the giant turned, activated his lightsaber, and slashed through their throats. The troopers fell to their knees, fear blossoming as their lives slowly ended. Smoke drifted upward, entering their severed windpipes and making the bodies twitch before the six rose to their feet.
The telekinetic barrier was resealed as Nemesis turned to cast his gaze on the creatures. "Nether Ghouls. These six are Bone Ghouls. Soon they will begin to grow an exoskeleton. A guard of Nether Sithspawn, bound to me by runic magik. They will never betray me, never turn on me, never forsake me. They shall follow any order I give them." The six moved back to the gate; ligaments and tendons popped as bones cracked and elongated. Slowly, as though an afterthought, the six creatures began to pull the various pieces of armor off and began to chew on the metal, making it malleable, before swallowing it.
With another nod, the final six approached as Nemesis turned back to the barrier. Brows furrowed as he searched out the mists, taking care to find what he was searching for. Once located, he would open a small window into the wall, allowing a single entity through, before shoving the rising mist of other forms back to the other side, then closing the entry point. Six times he did this, and six inky clots of smoke slithered across the ground before coiling up the legs of the Sith behind him. Some slithered into mouths, others into the nostrils, while one slipped into an ear canal.
The six rocked under the internal joining as the giant watched silently. "Zash'Ghuul Berserkers. These beings cohabitate with their hosts in a symbiotic relationship. They will be stronger, faster, with denser muscle fibers and bone. They carry their runes above their hearts as they were already bound to me. My own Nether-Guard." A cold smile crossed his face as he turned back to the wall and shoved the barrier back toward the valley, launching the undying ghoul spirits away. His hand left his belt as the wall disappeared and the mist began to roll back toward the gate. His glowing blue eyes took in his dozen Nether Wraiths. "When they return. Feast."
Then he began walking toward the stone forests; the third objective was more important and far more dangerous. His words were offered to Seren. "If you wish for a Nether Ghoul for a companion, it shall be done. There are other Sith who would leap at the opportunity to be a tool for one such as you."
Seren Gwyn
His hand stayed at his belt as he let a small portion of the invisible wall open, allowing a small amount of the dark smoke to writhe forward. Small pockets of mist drifted to the feet of each of the marked troopers behind Nemesis. With a sudden spin, the giant turned, activated his lightsaber, and slashed through their throats. The troopers fell to their knees, fear blossoming as their lives slowly ended. Smoke drifted upward, entering their severed windpipes and making the bodies twitch before the six rose to their feet.
The telekinetic barrier was resealed as Nemesis turned to cast his gaze on the creatures. "Nether Ghouls. These six are Bone Ghouls. Soon they will begin to grow an exoskeleton. A guard of Nether Sithspawn, bound to me by runic magik. They will never betray me, never turn on me, never forsake me. They shall follow any order I give them." The six moved back to the gate; ligaments and tendons popped as bones cracked and elongated. Slowly, as though an afterthought, the six creatures began to pull the various pieces of armor off and began to chew on the metal, making it malleable, before swallowing it.
With another nod, the final six approached as Nemesis turned back to the barrier. Brows furrowed as he searched out the mists, taking care to find what he was searching for. Once located, he would open a small window into the wall, allowing a single entity through, before shoving the rising mist of other forms back to the other side, then closing the entry point. Six times he did this, and six inky clots of smoke slithered across the ground before coiling up the legs of the Sith behind him. Some slithered into mouths, others into the nostrils, while one slipped into an ear canal.
The six rocked under the internal joining as the giant watched silently. "Zash'Ghuul Berserkers. These beings cohabitate with their hosts in a symbiotic relationship. They will be stronger, faster, with denser muscle fibers and bone. They carry their runes above their hearts as they were already bound to me. My own Nether-Guard." A cold smile crossed his face as he turned back to the wall and shoved the barrier back toward the valley, launching the undying ghoul spirits away. His hand left his belt as the wall disappeared and the mist began to roll back toward the gate. His glowing blue eyes took in his dozen Nether Wraiths. "When they return. Feast."
Then he began walking toward the stone forests; the third objective was more important and far more dangerous. His words were offered to Seren. "If you wish for a Nether Ghoul for a companion, it shall be done. There are other Sith who would leap at the opportunity to be a tool for one such as you."
Seren Gwyn
Seren Gwyn
White Star
Seren said nothing while the troopers drew their knives. She watched the sigils carved into flesh, committing the shape to memory along with the placement and the fact that Tobias had required it before allowing the mist anywhere near them. The fear radiating from the six was impossible to miss. Neither was what followed. Blue light swept through their throats, bodies collapsed, and the black mist entered through wounds that should have marked the end of them. Seren's expression remained composed, but her attention sharpened as the dead rose again. This was precisely why she had followed Tobias into the Netherworld. There were things here that no archive on Malachor could adequately teach her, and watching the transformation unfold revealed more than any description of Nether Ghouls could have.
She studied the Bone Ghouls as their bodies began changing, noting the cracking bones and the peculiar way they stripped away their armor only to chew through the metal and swallow it. She watched even more closely when Tobias selected individual entities from the mist for the remaining troopers. That distinction fascinated her. Death and reanimation for one, coexistence for the other. She listened carefully as he named the Zash'Ghuul Berserkers and described the symbiosis, committing the placement of their binding runes to memory even if she could not see them beneath what the troopers wore. There would be questions later, considerably more than she could reasonably ask while an entire mass of hostile spirits remained beyond Tobias's barrier. For now, Seren observed how deliberately he separated individual entities from the whole and how carefully he controlled their passage, storing each detail away for later consideration.
When Tobias finally drove the mist back and turned toward the stone forest, Seren followed, the phantom hounds accompanying her an extraordinary reminder that she had already gained something from this journey she had never anticipated. Their presence also made the contrast with what she had just witnessed difficult to ignore. The hounds had examined her and freely chosen whether to follow. Tobias's Nether-Guard had been created through something altogether different. Seren wasn't prepared to judge either method after witnessing it once, but she wanted to understand the distinction and what each kind of bond demanded of those involved.
His offer finally drew her from her thoughts. Seren looked up at him, surprise briefly touching her features before giving way to skepticism. "You make that sound remarkably easy." Her gaze wandered to his newly formed Nether-Guard, then back to him. The idea that Sith somewhere would eagerly volunteer to die, become hosts to something from the Netherworld, or otherwise surrender themselves simply for the privilege of serving her seemed considerably harder to believe than the existence of the creatures themselves. Seren had never cultivated that sort of following, nor had she ever considered herself someone strangers would willingly sacrifice for. "I'm less convinced about the part where someone leaps at the opportunity to become my tool."
Curiosity nevertheless took hold almost immediately. Tobias had offered her a lesson, and everything she had witnessed since entering the Netherworld had given Seren reason to take his knowledge seriously even when it challenged her expectations. If he believed someone would genuinely volunteer for such a transformation, she wanted to see whether he was right rather than dismiss the possibility outright. "But I'll accept your offer." A faint, almost self-conscious smile touched her lips as she continued alongside him toward the stone forest. "If only because now I want to see whether you're actually right about that." She wasn't entirely certain what she would do if someone truly volunteered, but that was a question she could confront when, or perhaps if, Tobias proved his claim.
Tobias Dib
She studied the Bone Ghouls as their bodies began changing, noting the cracking bones and the peculiar way they stripped away their armor only to chew through the metal and swallow it. She watched even more closely when Tobias selected individual entities from the mist for the remaining troopers. That distinction fascinated her. Death and reanimation for one, coexistence for the other. She listened carefully as he named the Zash'Ghuul Berserkers and described the symbiosis, committing the placement of their binding runes to memory even if she could not see them beneath what the troopers wore. There would be questions later, considerably more than she could reasonably ask while an entire mass of hostile spirits remained beyond Tobias's barrier. For now, Seren observed how deliberately he separated individual entities from the whole and how carefully he controlled their passage, storing each detail away for later consideration.
When Tobias finally drove the mist back and turned toward the stone forest, Seren followed, the phantom hounds accompanying her an extraordinary reminder that she had already gained something from this journey she had never anticipated. Their presence also made the contrast with what she had just witnessed difficult to ignore. The hounds had examined her and freely chosen whether to follow. Tobias's Nether-Guard had been created through something altogether different. Seren wasn't prepared to judge either method after witnessing it once, but she wanted to understand the distinction and what each kind of bond demanded of those involved.
His offer finally drew her from her thoughts. Seren looked up at him, surprise briefly touching her features before giving way to skepticism. "You make that sound remarkably easy." Her gaze wandered to his newly formed Nether-Guard, then back to him. The idea that Sith somewhere would eagerly volunteer to die, become hosts to something from the Netherworld, or otherwise surrender themselves simply for the privilege of serving her seemed considerably harder to believe than the existence of the creatures themselves. Seren had never cultivated that sort of following, nor had she ever considered herself someone strangers would willingly sacrifice for. "I'm less convinced about the part where someone leaps at the opportunity to become my tool."
Curiosity nevertheless took hold almost immediately. Tobias had offered her a lesson, and everything she had witnessed since entering the Netherworld had given Seren reason to take his knowledge seriously even when it challenged her expectations. If he believed someone would genuinely volunteer for such a transformation, she wanted to see whether he was right rather than dismiss the possibility outright. "But I'll accept your offer." A faint, almost self-conscious smile touched her lips as she continued alongside him toward the stone forest. "If only because now I want to see whether you're actually right about that." She wasn't entirely certain what she would do if someone truly volunteered, but that was a question she could confront when, or perhaps if, Tobias proved his claim.
Tobias Dib