The Fire That Beckons

[Seamus Valik]

Location: Ossus
Objective: Avoid the creepy girl's laser stick
Enemies: [member="Vaylin"] and plasma blade technology
Allies: Umbrella drinks and beach side Hammocks (Neither of which showed up, yet again.)
Gear: Stuff

His blue eyes narrowed slightly as she stepped forward with her lightsaber ignited. She apparently wasn't much of a talker. That was ok though, most of the women he met that talked a lot ended up not being so great to hang out with. Especially doctors, talky leads to stabby with those people.

"Not a big talker, huh." He said as he took a step forward toward her, "That's okay. We don't have to discuss your interest. We can start with names, how's that?"

His mind had put together a lot of reasons why the woman was here. None of them included giving deep tissue massage and whispering sweet nothings. She wanted to kill him for being not her and if he had to guess, he would say she was very much not alone. So, in his estimation, his choices were to die (not his favorite), or make her less of a threat while he figured the rest out. Option two for the win.

He took another step forward. His eyes scanning the woman's face, not the rest of her that would be weird in a life or death situation, and waited for the telltale signs that she was getting ready to do something less than pleasant. He let the force in and it came flooding like an old memory rushing back to the forefront after years. It calmed him, centered him, and cleared his mind of shapely hips and purple eyes, and let him focus on the things that mattered, not being a laser pin cushion being paramount among them.

"We could always just go sit in the garden and talk." He said in an effort to be a non-militant force person, "It's not too late for talking."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

LOCATION: Central Atrium - moving down the other side.
OBJECTIVE: Arrive. Witness. Cultivate.

PARTNER IN GREEN: [member="Vessa"]
SITH: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"]

ENEMIES: GA | GA NPCs

"Mmm, good catch on those seeds." Coniferous murmured softly as his claws rooted around a dirt patch just outside the Central Atrium. "Their ritual is... distracting me just a bit."

They had been part of the initial expedition by the Empire and began exploring the Great Library at their own leisure. Most of it was sadly gone, ransacked, stripped clean, but thankfully these mammals had little idea what true worth was. They hadn't noticed what they left behind in their rush to flee the Empire. The little roots, the seeds, the minuscule plants poking from between broken tiles and turned-over floor lining. "Staff at ready, little one, they might need our help." Coniferous rose up, assisting himself with his own staff.

Fiery eyes studied the great set of doors that separated them from the Atrium and the ritual inside.

Head cocked.

From within the large Tree could hear the sounds of battles... of screams, it seemed that they had already started without them. They were always so... hasty in his experience.

Coniferous did not approve, but why would they listen to a walking Tree? Clearly he didn't know anything. The Sith approached the set of doors, giving it a tentative push, before realizing they were locked. Oh, bother. Another push.... nope, definitely locked. "Vessa, a few steps back, please." From the depths of his pockets Con revealed sprinkles of seedlings, which he royally scattered against the door-set.

Then his eyes closed.

Followed by the blinding light of the tip of his staff.

It burned bright.

As Coniferous' song grew louder the seedlings embedded themselves in hinges, in fringes, in crevice and shatters, then they grew. Spurred on by his song (and hers, Vessa's voice adding to his) from smol seed to strong plant took root, ripping apart hinges, shattering the old wooden doors and as Coniferous' eyes opened themselves the staff pointed forward.

Past the Sith cultists, past the tiniest Sith playing with her meal, past the large... walking heap of metal (Din preserve me), past the Pale and She Who Smelled Of Metal But Looked Mammalian (He was still working on that last one). The remnants of the oaken door flew past it all and slammed into a new insurgence of humans streaming in to attack his humans.

"Forgive us." Coniferous' voice sounded over the screams and the screeching of the cultists. "We were fascinated by a particularly beautiful mushroom formation. I hope we are not late?"

Something thunked against his bark.

Coniferous looked down and only then noticed another human (brown, not black robe, allowed) slamming a piece of wood into him.

Um?

 

[Six-O]

LOCATION: Ossus - Central Atrium - Balcony
OBJECTIVE: Support Sith Organics | Set the mood
ALLIES: TSE | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Coniferous"] | [member="Vessa"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]
ENEMIES: GA | Repel Jedi and Soldiers
GEAR: Cylix Pistol | HPB Pistols x 2 | Magnetic Reaper | CF6 Concussion Rifle | SIF-71 | YVHa-60 Chassis

Where once it may have seemed as though this hideous Ritual may have unfurled with the tongue of their enemy silent, anarchy now snarled. The Galactic Alliance came in with robust wildness. Ferocious. Fierce. Raving. Stalwart defenders of peace, they were the shields that would obstruct this depraved evil. Justice would be grim and most severe.

Diplomacy had long since been abandoned, this was War.

Brutality unrestrained.

In that abbreviated moment, so much violence had been unleashed. A storm of ruin that could weaken even the most seasoned Veteran of bloodshed.

Those closest to the Alliance Breach Points were rendered witless. Man and woman left marooned, their minds shattered, intelligence abandoned. They wandered blindly through dust and waste, caked in the muddy gore of a million wounds, deaf to sound and reason. They fell first. Reduced to fleshy, ragged, splinters from the trespassing strobe of a thousand enemy rifles.

The horrifying anthem of obliteration provoked reverberation. Acerbic jousting as bitter enemies mangled and slaughtered one another. Visibility so meager that line of fire control became a thing of fantasy as friend flattened friend, and foe shot down foe. Glorious confusion. It was the sort of intensity that burned it's mark on the mind for a lifetime.

Bottled, close-quartered, devastation.

And that was simply the first choked breath.

Spears of multi-colored beams lanced in every direction you turned. The Sith Ritualists, now free of the Spider's Web, were forced to slow the drumming of their zeal. The obscene evil that brewed at their center revolving with Stygian horror, a heavy shade illuminating the smoke and soot as even the World outside of this Library began to darken and grow bitter with hatred and fear.

Forward Perimeter Positions buzzed the closed communications Network of The Sith Empire, hundreds of voices brawling in a cacophony of gibberish. Some were overran, others were being strafed by Galactic Alliance Aerial-to-Ground attacks, pinned, being wildly beaten down and obliterated by the precision assaults of Ace Pilots. Even the Library itself energetically rumbled underneath the onslaught of their wrath.

If the Ground Assaults failed, it seemed they would not hesitate to topple this site of Ancient Knowledge to rubble in an attempt to sever the limb before this dark poison could travel the veins and infect the host. The Tactic was sound, and the first several fly-by's seemed only to aim at weakening the structural integrity of the Great Library, not leveling it in it's entirety - yet.

But the Sith could not, and would not be trampled so easily.

It's own host of Legendary Figures had already sprung in to action. [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Darth Prazutis"]. Monsters. Wraiths. All Demons of their own variety.

Cohorts and Conscripts of every make and variety flooding in.

Deadly Mercenaries in [member="Enyo Typhos"], [member="Lok Munin"] and YVHa-60 all seasoned, tested, and ready to murder for those they made themselves attached too.

And even more as the Sinister Timber, [member="Coniferous"] and it's sworn leaf-ling [member="Vessa"] burst wildly in to the fray.

It would be a battle not soon forgotten, one way or another, this World would be scarred.

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Location: Central Atrium - moving down the other side.
Objective: Protect [member="Coniferous"]
Allies: ???
Enemies: The rude thing trying to bruise his bark!
Nearby: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Six-O"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Lok Munin"]

Honestly, Vessa was just happy to be here. It was all so new and interesting-

Oh not the library.

She didn't care a bit about the library. It was a moldy building full of moldy things that didn't matter to her at all (well, the mold itself was interesting). The fact that Vessa couldn't read probably had a lot to do with her disinterest, though it wasn't the entire story. She didn't really like being inside. It felt claustrophobic in a way being in a forest never did. She would have followed Coniferous where ever he had decided to go, but a library would not have been her first choice.

She had been pleasantly surprised when she'd found the first tiny seedlings. Not even seedlings- moss grew from spores, after all- but she'd found them in a crack beneath a broken window and from there she'd only found more and more. She was short, close to the floor and it wasn't simply a sharp eye that let her spot the little tufts of green or red or bone first. Once she realized they were there, she could feel them.

Her pockets were full to bursting by the time they made it to what she supposed was their destination. Mostly seeds, but also a tiny seedlings, uprooted with their little balls of library dust or blown in soil and wrapped in scraps of fabric (the hem of her tunic was looking the worse for wear).

With her own staff tucked under her arm, she stepped back when Coniferous bade her, watching with head tilted interest.

Her eyes closed against the burning light, hands tightening around the staff, but opening again when it ceased to flare through closed eyelids. Moss coloured eyes drank in the scene, head cocking the opposite direction.

It was....

A lot.

More people than she'd ever seen in one place before. For a moment, she was a little overwhelmed, not really sure what to look at first. What it all meant. Her brain sorted out the individual figures, some more interesting than others.
The violence?

Didn't phase her.

She just tilted her head far the other way again, trying to figure out which parts connected to what in one particular scenario.

And then someone threw themselves at Coniferous and her eyes darkened.

Vessa didn't really think. She just acted. The girl marched right over, and as the man caught the movement out of the corner of his eye it drew his attention away from assaulting the befuddled tree. Just in time for a two handed SMAP of Vessa's staff across his face. It wasn't enough to injure the man- hurt for certain yes, and he fell backward, a red line across his cheek and nose where she'd made contact.

Advancing with all of the possible fury of an offended fourteen year old girl (which is to say, quite a bit), Vessa reached into her pocket and brought her fist out. Before he could respond, she dropped her knee to his chest and shoved her hand into his face, pushing the small thing that was between her fingers into his mouth, covering it with her palm as she pressed *down*. It would have been ridiculous- probably the main reason she got away with it was the shock of the whole thing.

Of course, when the man began to choke, it was no longer a look of surprise on his face.

He started to flail and Vessa jumped back nimbly, both hands going back to hold her staff up defensively in front of her. But she didn't need to.

The man clawed at his mouth, where a green shoot was growing rapidly. His other hand started at his throat where, unseen to those on the outside, roots were taking hold. Like all things Vessa touched, the seed she had shoved into his mouth was growing.

Turning around to face Coniferous again, leaving the man writhing and clawing at himself as he choked on the growing vine, Vessa gave the tree a very concerned look.

"Did he bruise your bark?"

 

[Darth Prazutis]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHYRNbJNlQ0&list=PLAWmmm32z0yJRmeNTq1olwRQocSHGXs01&index=15[/media]​

​

Location: Ossus Central Atrium, Under Balcony
​Allies: [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Six-O"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Czernon Zambrano"]
Nearby: [member="Vessa"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, GA Soldier NPC, The Light
Equipment:

Spoiler

• Neo-Imperator Sith Armor
• Sith Lightsabers
• ​Valthris the Dark Crystal​​

• 
  

​Blood flowed.

Chaos erupted as bombs detonated from all directions and a veritable flood of the putrid alliance grunts spilled into the Atrium. When they met the perimeter of Sith death followed all around. Sounds of screams and sprays of gore erupted from beyond the door that led to the stairwell, the Shadow of the Destroyer looming as it whipped rapidly around with blade and sorcery in hand, the smell of burned flesh filled the air the more his lightsaber sliced and the more blasts of lightning erupted from his fingertips.

But this was just only the beginning.

The enemy had a numbers advantage and they were overwhelming the atrium in great number. But there wasn't true fear, true panic in the air quite yet. The collective confidence was a hard thing to break when there were so many and Jedi were possibly on the field alongside them. To instill true terror and to break that collective confidence? That was a tough feat to accomplish. The enemy they faced dared to think they were superior to their Sith attackers, to think that they could send but an army to take out the Sith was pathetic. They were nameless, worthless vermin to the Shadow Hand. They were insects that stood in the way of progress, barbarians that barred the path of order and chose to follow the way of the weak.

They would soon learn the error of their ways.

As he deflected a blast down right into a soldier's throat the forces attacking his kill pocket faltered, moving around the sides and through other exposed breaks in the walls to get into the atrium. The Dark Lord sheathed his lightsaber as he walked back into the doorway. The Dark Titan's eight foot frame came into view just as he began chanting. The words were in High Sith and they thrummed with power, his hands waved through the air in arcane patterns before centering together to form a cupped sphere. A spark of sickly green energy formed in his hands pulled from the dark side of the force. It grew larger and larger until it filled the entire circle in the form of a green orb.

"Worthless vermin. I will show you the justice of the grave...and the true meaning of fear."

​The Sith slammed his hands down sending the orb crashing into the ground at his feet. Quite suddenly there was an explosion of green energy, a wave that spanned the entire floor of the atrium and reached out to its edges past the breaches, where those unfortunate enough were blasted before they could even climb over and inside. The energy wouldn't impact the living in the room, nor would it impact the Sith. But those initiated in the force would suddenly feel the briefest moments of intense emotion in its wake.

Unbelievable hunger.

The energy seeped into all of the slaughtered dead that piled up through the first floor. Bodies sliced down, blasted down, blown apart and those brought down through the power of the force had their eyes suddenly open as the briefest seconds of silence erupted from the sudden event. The dead suddenly opened their eyes which glowed with a baleful green. The voice of the Destroyer rang out again thundering through the floor "Feast my children. Slaughter them all." ​The dead avoided his Sith allies as they scrambled to their feet moving past them. The room suddenly erupted in a sick symphony of moans and hungering screeches as the dead clawed from every direction at the alliance soldiers.

The atrium was quickly turned into a charnel house.

Blood flowed as the hungering dead clawed and bit dragging their quarry down and tearing him apart, bits and pieces thrown as sprays of blood painted those standing with patterns that were almost artistic in design. Even those accustomed to violence might find such visceral, such raw gore sick and grotesque. This was the true face of the darkness the alliance faced as the hungering dead charged past the Sith and headlong into lines of fire against their foe.

​A lone soldier among the encroaching hordes that had been trapped amidst the horde managed to make his way to the doorway, where the Sith Lord still stood now clenching his lightsaber back in his hand. "I surrender, I surrender just spare me please."

​The giant blocking his path simply stared down at him consuming the mans emotion, his raw terror before simply stretching out his hand and delivering a blast of energy, sending him careening into a pack of raised dead.

Blood flowed. staining the beautiful floor.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

LOCATION: Ossus - Central Atrium - Balcony
OBJECTIVE: Support Sith Organics | Set the mood
ALLIES: TSE | [member="Six-O"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Coniferous"], [member="Vessa"]
ENEMIES: GA | Repel Jedi and Soldiers


The sounds of battle were deafening. They were a macabre orchestra. The wounded wailed, blasters whined and explosions thundered. Wherever one looked, beams of laser fire lanced through the air, scything down combatants on both sides. Bodies piled up. Death was the great equaliser for when all was said and done, all beings bled the same. Even those who deluded themselves into thinking that they were gods.


Smoke and dust clogged the air. The ground had become littered with corpses. Sky corrupted by smoke, ground stained with blood. Explosions tore up the ground and hurled body parts into the air. Dust clogged and choked. Wounded tried to keep their guts from spilling out. Yet they fought on.


The Galactic Alliance soldiers kept coming, undaunted by the conventional and preternatural onslaught that greeted them. Their zeal was commendable. Shrapnel rained down around Enyo. A man screamed nearby. She was deaf to his wails. The strong prevailed, the weak perished. Heavy blaster fire peppered the ground around and ahead of her. Too many bolts for her lightsabre to block,


As the Terminatrix bolted, weaving a pattern through the hailstorm as she moved with the speed of an HRD, a rocket thundered towards her. A wave of the Force produced a premature explosion that knocked her off her feet and blasted her through a wall. Said wall crumbled as her shell made contact with it. The Terminatrix got up. Her shell and armour had taken damage from the colision. Her vision processor was not operating at a hundred percent, making what she saw just a bit out of synch. The hybrid was undaunted. Heavy blaster fire forced her to seek cover amongst the rubble.


Her mechu-deru senses tingled as she focused upon the entity that had produced the rocket in question. Her gaze turned skyward, for it had been one of the ground-attack fighters that were strafing the forward perimeter positions of the Sith - or what was left of said positions, for that matter. Siobhan Kerrigan would turned her preternatural might towards pulling the fighter from its lofty position in the heavens and smashing it into the ground.


Enyo desires went into a different, though no less destructive direction. Stretching out with her mind, she willed her power to focus on something rather specific. Not the wings, not the fuel cells, but the weapons' control systems. Mechu-deru sprang into action. By the time the pilot realised what was up, it was already too late. He probably experienced this revelation in the exact moment when his craft fired all its rockets. Without him having lifted a finger. Oh, and they were aimed at his allies. Boom.


A column of stalwart minions of the Light was shrouded in smoke and exploded in a shower of blood, interstines and body parts. A couple Sith troopers got caught by the firestorm as well. Not knowing that their comrade's weapons had been unfairly hijacked without him having a say in this, their allies put the unfortunate pilot's craft under fire. Emerging from cover, Enyo strode through the flames as debris rained down. The damage sustained from earlier slowed her pace a bit, as one leg had been affected, but she advanced.


Scarlet arcs burnt through the air, as her burning violet blade conducted a fluid defence. For the most part, blaster rounds deflected harmlessly into her surroundings or struck shooters, as she coolly crossed the distance. Her lightsabre rose and fell, ridding enemies of limbs along the way. Hostiles screamed short cries of pain as they were cut down. Smoke rose from melted plastoid and cauterised flesh. Every movement flowed into perfectly-measured and synchronised motions.


A Jedi Knight, easily identifiable by the impractical brown robes and the aura of righteousness, charged her. His sabre batted away reflected bolts, ensuring that the shooters were spared. Tall and broad-shouldered, he seemed to ride on an invisible tide of the Light. Entering into a defensive position, Enyo let him come. A series of powerful strokes rained down upon her, and she turned them aside. Sadly, relentlessness, no matter how strong and tall you were, did not produce results if there was little discipline behind it.


Especially if you were facing a droid. For while an organic being would tire, a machine would not. Feigning weakness, she stepped back, and he followed. His stabbing lunge kissed her torso as she moved to the side, and swung her blade to sever his outstretched arm at the elbow. The smell of barbecued flesh wafted into the air. He screamed in anguish. At point-blank range, a telekinetic blast, fuelled by desperation, rippled from him and slammed into her.


It hit her like a battering ram and tossed her back, but she had the presence of mind to grapple him in the moment he unleashed his attack and so he was ragdolled with her. Both hit the ground hard, a couple metres apart. But in his case one could hear bones splintering like dry wood. Arising, she called her discarded lightsabre into her grasp and stepped towards him. The injured, maimed Jedi tried to crawl away, even though his body ached. But ere her blade could remove his head from his torso, a new opponent seemed to manifest out of thin air. If Enyo had been less distracted, she might have given some thought to this.


The human in her saw a Jedi clad in battle armour suddenly leap through the air, placing herself between the Cyborg and her quarry. An blazing aura of power surrounded the Jedi, that of a Master, and she held her lightsabre in a confident grip. One that seemed to turn Enyo's stroke aside, deflecting it. "Medics, get Ben. I'll handle this," the Jedi called out as their blades clashed.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Location: Central Atrium
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Six-O"], [member="Enyo Typhos"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Czernon Zambrano"], [member="Vessa"], [member="Coniferous"]
Enemies: GA
Objective: Protect the ritual

Finally.

His trigger finger was already itching, but thankfully came the arrival of Alliance soldiers. Prey and entertainment had arrived. He had known about the arrival of enemy units long before they entered the library all thanks to the HUD on his visor and other sensors installed into his helmet. Mandalorians may be incompetent in working with each other, but they were excellent to kill, conquer, and create superb technology to aid them in warfare.

And Lok received the best of the best before deserting his clan and joining Matsu.

He would depart from Xiangu as he would activate his repulsorpack and soar up from the ground in order to gain a higher ground against the Alliance. Not only would they have to worry about hardened Imperial troopers and dangerous Sith Knights on the floor, but they'd have to worry about a wayward Mandalorian in the sky.

There were some things the Mandalorians had taught him. Honor, merciless, and efficiency. The former he was far from. Honor was a fool's idea and a joke. It restrained one from being oneself that "normal" people would frown upon and deem unmoral. But Lok was a man that faced many hardships, and he didn't gave a single damn of what most people thought of him. Only to those he liked and genuinely cared for, and those people were few and small.

His senses were attuned and quick all thanks to systems of his helmet that were much more complex than the rest of his armor. His attention caught of one of the entry ways to the library with groups upon groups of Alliance soldiers breaching to dissuade the ritual and neutralize the Sith. They could try, but it would all be in vain. There were many options for Lok to engage the opposition and he had already picked one.

"Have some," he said and fired a wrist rocket at the marching waves of soldiers. It would not just explode on impact, killing and dismembering its intended target, but it would cause some damage to the architecture of where the rocket was fired on. Making it a bit harder for the rest of the Alliance forces to continue their advance.

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Ossus | Great Jedi Library | Exterior
Objective: Defend the Ritual - Fight Jedi
Allies: TSE
Enemies: [member="Seamus Valik"] | GA
Equipment: Sith Lightsaber x2 | Shoto Lightsaber x1 | Armour | Oculus | Firestarter |

She scowled as Seamus continued to talk, but it at least seemed liked her opponent was finally getting the idea that she wasn't here to do any conversing. Vaylin was here to fight, maim and kill. Seamus had done nothing but achieve a much slower fate once she had ahold of him.

"My name? You'll hear it as you die."

Vaylin picked up her pace as she felt her opponent call the Force to himself. She knew it wasn't for an outright attack, but Seamus was still preparing himself. It made the Zabrak grin, almost giddy to know that her opponent wasn't going to run - but stand and fight.

At least it's what she believed.

She stretched out her free hand, summoning the Force to wrap around it before she threw her arm forwards. A blast stuck one of the nearby steps, kicking up chunks of stone into the air. Vaylin coiled her arm back, using the Force to grasp ahold of several pieces before throwing them towards Seamus.

Vaylin used that distraction to lunge, foot slipping along the edge of a step before propelling herself forwards with her lightsaber poised to stab Seamus.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

LOCATION: Central Atrium
OBJECTIVE: Have fun wid’ it.
ALLIES: See tag. <3
ENEMIES: GA | GA NPC’s

So many. Everywhere. One usually thought of the Alliance’s ties with Jedi, and of course they made up some of the number swarming the Atrium. But truly, the most impressive part was the sheer numbers of Alliance soldiers and fighters. Of course, it was nothing that couldn’t be mustered for a quick fight with Sith - but still, they seemed to keep pouring in from nowhere and everywhere.

Wanton slaughter wasn’t exactly Matsu’s style, but when there was nothing else to do…

[member="Six-O"] : It was the only thing that made sense really. See droid, disable droid. Of course, the galaxy at large often overestimated the ease of such a task when compared to the size and strength of a droid in general, their ability to compute trajectories and possible outcomes as a matter of one second’s thought in their processors. Force-users in particular saw a droid and saw an easy kill, but those without the aid of such mysterious power were guilty of such error too.

One, two, three EMP grenades sailed through the air, landing at or near Six-O’s feet. While these soldiers were in for a fatal surprise, one could write in their obituaries that they could have made excellent star-ball players, considering the accuracy of their aim. Although, maybe just about anyone could have been inspired to land a three-pointer in the face of those horrible red ‘eyes’, the rictus teeth...

Beep...beep...beep---CRRRHHHHH---------- Wreathing streaks of white lightning sought to crawl up Six-O’s chassis. They called it the droid-popper grenade for a reason. Ten seconds, and every circuit in the offending machine was fried. At least...that was what usually happened.

[member="Coniferous"] / [member="Vessa"] : The Alliance, being an ostensibly peaceful sort - capable of military strength, but holding themselves to a higher set of standards and morals - had less hideous forms of weaponry than might be seen casually among Sith ranks. But fear did a lot of things to a man, and seeing a giant walking tree struck confusion and horror in to the staunchest of hearts. And...a little girl next to him. Everyone had to agree that little girls were creepy. There were many horror-holos to support that theory. The tree growing out of one of their compatriots also provided irrefutable evidence that these two could not be suffered to live.

Flamethrowers were a disturbing weapon (though surprisingly, a cursory glance at available history showed numerous instances of their provision to Republic troops) and often impractical seeing as how quickly they could become dangerous. But seeing a sentient tree pushed those concerns to the backs of Alliance soldier’s minds. One pulled forth his rifle, ran as close as he dared, and let a plume of blue-orange fire loose towards the abomination.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]: Standing behind the trooper whose neck turned to ruin was a Jedi. They had come to intercept the threat, but...too late. A red spray of rain misted over their face, getting in their eyes and mouth, causing them to nearly double over in disgust and horror at what they’d been too slow to prevent. The Jedi, a lithe Twi’lek, took a breath and faced the Sith Lord - for that was what the pale one was, without a doubt.

The Twi’lek was a master herself, well-centered in the Force and shedding the sensation of guilt even as its evidence dried on her blue skin. Instead, peace overwhelmed her with the knowledge that only the Force and her belief in the light would give meaning to that soldier’s death, and the blast of telekinetic power that came from her empty left hand (the right clutching her green saber) was enough to bring down half the library had she not directed it solely at Ophidia and the bookshelf behind her.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]: The Jedi that landed before Enyo was about as esteemed a Master as existed in these troubled times. Had there not been the passing worry that her love of combat pushed her too close to the Dark, she might have made a Grandmaster. But even those worries were minor. Everyone knew Reotih Sengal was a paragon. Blades singing their discordant screech as weight bared together, her face was impassive, concentrated.

"You feel different, Siobhan Kerrigan,” said the woman, teeth clenched, feeling as though they would shatter if even the slightest hint of extra pressure was applied. “The same, but different." She exhaled, knuckles white, hands flexing around the metallic cylinder of her Lightsaber. “I looked up to you once. So many of us did. Whatever you are now though..."

The time was not spent idle. As her hands had clenched and flexed around the hilt of her weapon she had shifted the weight in her legs, her stance widening before there was a sudden outburst of aggression from the woman. The hand that had rested lower on the hilt suddenly jumped away, using her forearm and all of the strength the Force could feed her armor-clad body, in an attempt to pressure and maneuver Enyo's burning blade to the right as Sengal herself stepped out to the left of the woman in a plea to lash the HRD she wrongly identified across the small of her back with an angled, downward slash.

[member="Lok Munin"]: And fall things did, framework collapsing in on itself, thousands of datachips floating out in to one big smoking, shattered pile. Any bibliophile in the room, don’t look now - it’s cause for tears.

Anybody standing in the way of the wrist-rocket was eviscerated, but the Alliance soldiers were smart and…

A woman leaped on Lok’s back, pulling down with her entire weight as her arm slid in front of his neck in a choke, compressed against his airway as she bent at the elbow. Her other hand pressed against the back of his helmet, trying to maximize her ability to cut off his airway by pressing him in to it. Of course, since she’d had to jump to reach his neck - short as she was - she wasn’t as stable as she might have liked to have been. Her lower half flailed against his body, knees knocking against the back of his legs.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]: Sith, because they were so unconcerned with things like ‘human rights violations’ and ‘experimental guidelines and oversight’, were capable of innovation at an alarming rate. Some of those things were useful, and others went back to the drawing board. But necromancy, by its very nature, typically made something useful regardless.

The soldier who made the decision didn’t call out a single thing. He knew it was a risk, but it was one he calculated was worth it. The Force-breaker grenade that left his hands and sailed towards the Titan had a limited range - of about 20 feet - so hopefully there were no Alliance force-users that it would effect, but he was worried that if he called it out he’d draw the Sith Lord’s attention and ruin the element of surprise so crucial to this grenade’s effectiveness. As long as it broke near the necromancer, it would disorient him and cut off his solid connection to the Force for at least a few minutes - enough time to incapacitate him. And hopefully, even better...it would sever the animated corpses from the power keeping them moving.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

LOCATION: Central Atrium - moving down the other side.
OBJECTIVE: Arrive. Witness. Cultivate.

PARTNER IN GREEN: [member="Vessa"]
NEARBY: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"]| [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Lok Munin"]

ENEMIES: FIRE, FIRE, FIREEEEE

Vessa batted the human away and then... oooooh.

"That is some nice growth, little one!" Coniferous called out, clearly impressed by the way her seedling was spurred on by her attention, causing the seed to take root and start growing and shaping itself within the human's body. For anyone else it might have seemed gruesome; the way the roots forced itself down and up, through nostrils and puncturing eyes as they forced themselves through the sockets.

Oooooh.

But for Coniferous it was the brightest expression of nature.

The human alliance soldier was becoming one with the Tree. That was an honor as far as Con was concerned. Sadly, it was this fascination that caused him to miss the immediate danger of another Alliance trooper rushing in with a.... fething flamethrower rifle. The burst of gushing fire caught him by surprise, causing it to engulf part of his left arm before a mighty roar of pain escaped green teeth.

His non-burning arm lashed out and tendrils of sharp claw-like tree branches burst through the trooper's throat, pulling him in.

The fire burned, licking at his bark, but before it could get any farther... Coniferous slammed his arm through the trooper's side.

A human was made out of sixty percent water, after all, and once his arm took root inside? It was easy to draw it into his bark and dozing the flames that were now leaving liquid fiery tears inside of him. "Ooooh, that is better." Coniferous breathed softly, relieved, as the flames were put out by the bodily liquid and blood. "These Alliance mammals are maniacs, little Vessa, did you see what this one did?"

The Tree peered down to Vessa to see if she had noticed it.

Absolutely horrifying behavior as far as Con was concerned. Fire?? So... mammalian. But the indignation couldn't last for long, not when there were many more coming for them and the other Sith in the room.

"They don't deserve us being nice, little one, let's show them what nature has in store for them."

The dried husk of the mammal was thrown to the side and slick trunks lashed out, seeds being spread through the air through his throw. Then... the singing started.

 

[Seamus Valik]

[member="Vaylin"]

"Typical." He said to no one in particular. More of a general observance, really.

She out her hand, and he could tell it wasn't to beckon to him for some hand holding whilst skipping through his little garden. It was more thrusty like she was shoving an imaginary person, which he could have believed had chunks of stone not burst into the air and flown at him.

He didn't feel much like a battle of wills over rocks so he dove to the side several feet and looked back as she was propelling toward where he was a moment ago. He lifted a hand toward her belt and let his focus fall on one of her two idle lightsabers on her belt. With a quick mental pull he yanked on the inert hilt in an effort to at least arm himself.

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Location: Central Atrium - moving down the other side.
Objective: Protect [member="Coniferous"]
Allies: ???
Enemies: FIRE
Nearby: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Six-O"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Lok Munin"]


Vessa did not like these people.

She flinched back from the flames- and who wouldn't? The fact that Coniferous was between them was the only thing that kept this from being the very early end to the experiment that was the girl Vessa.

"Monsters," she whispered fiercely, agreeing with him after he had dealt with the threat. She was far more aghast by the response of fire than by what he had done in response. Really, they had only defended themselves so far! Vessa would have been perfectly content to watch the events unfold but nooooooooo.

They came with sticks and fire.

Vessa had no idea what the uniforms meant. She had no idea who was attacking them or why. Only that they were. She had never considered starting a problem.

But she had no trouble considering ending one.

As Coniferous flung the seeds, she joined her voice to his, rising in a sweet soprano harmony against his deep, reverberating bass. Where the seeds hit the floor the rolled, settling into cracks and crevices.

And began to grow.

It started with a series of small but sharp pops. The hard seed coat splitting. Bursting up, green shoots curled up into the air- not thick or strong enough to form a protective barrier but then, that wasn't the goal.

It wasn't until another soldier came rushing toward them, raising another fire stick that Vessa's hands clenched- and several of the shoots, now as thick as her wrists, snaked in and started to curl around the man's legs, one coiling around his wrist. Angry, annoyed, he started to turn the flame thrower on the vines.

Until the one around his wrist jerked just as his finger depressed the trigger, pulling up and in.

The effects were satisfying. And never would have happened, of course, if he hadn't brought the fire himself.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

LOCATION: Central Atrium
ALLIES: [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Six-O"], [member="Coniferous"], [member="Vessa"]
ENEMIES: Jedi NPC’s




"You feel different, Siobhan Kerrigan,” said the woman, teeth clenched, feeling as though they would shatter if even the slightest hint of extra pressure was applied. “The same, but different." She exhaled, knuckles white, hands flexing around the metallic cylinder of her Lightsaber. “I looked up to you once. So many of us did. Whatever you are now though..."




Siobhan Kerrigan.


Enyo had been crafted in her image. Even now, she still wore her face, though given her new synthetic nature, it would be within her means to change that. Archangel had created her to cast the 'Lady of Fire' down from her throne and destroy all she held dear. She had been driven to surpass her. Jealousy had fuelled Enyo. Until the veil was torn from her eyes. She would still be standing, untainted by time, while Kerrigan withered away.


Reotih Sengal struck hard and fast, forcing Enyo's blade aside through the strength of the Force. The burning blue plasma of her lightsabre came crashing down upon Enyo's shoulder as the Jedi launched her downward slashing attack. By and large, the phrik armour plating deflected it, causing the blade to bounce off, but it briefly found purchase upon a joint. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air, bit like if you kept meat too long in the oven at an inappropriately high temperature. Where flesh had been cut away, metal was exposed.


"I am not Siobhan Kerrigan." Enyo's tone was icy. Not the copy, not the duplicate, not the pale imitation. No, the superior model. Even as these words left her lips, she was in motion. Her lightsabre had been pushed away, but this left her open to launch a horizontal slash directed towards her apparent opponent's mid-section. The attack was backed up by a knee. Not something as extravagant as a high kick. Those seldom worked. Just a kick towards the leg meant to unbalance the Jedi while her blade was high.

 

[Mornhun of House Marr]

Location: Inside...with you
Objective: Feed
Nearby: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vessa"] [member="Six-O"] [member="Coniferous"]

He stumbled through the shadowed corridor, his eyeless gaze scanned the hallowed halls for life as he went. He had been on the world before, picking away the scraps of wayward Jedi that wandered too far from their secluded walls. It had been too long since he fed last. Too long since he had filled himself with the flesh of a darksider. It was not a choice to come here now, not really. It was deeper than choice. A primal desire, an animalistic hunger that would not be denied.

His boots whispered along the stone floor, hissing lightly against the hard hallway soft as a lover's breath. His presence dulled to a whisper in the force as his weakened state threatened to kill him. He had to feed. He must feed. Another step and he could move no farther. His weak legs could hold no more weight and he fell to his knees. But fate, fate was a strange mistress and today she took pity on the wretch she had made. An acolyte, still young and vold, paused at a junction and filled with thoughts of easy prey came to gain glory.

The sith strode forth, his crimson blade flashed to life and illuminated the huddled being. The light bathed the flesh covered mass where the creature's eyes should have been and the acolyte hesitated but a moment. But a moment was well long enough. The Neverborn rose like a viper the last of his strength expended in one more desperate clawing grasp at life and seized the raised arm of the acolyte as his lips peeled back to reveal his wet dripping teeth.

The creature's teeth sunk on the unwise darkling's enlarged larynx and cut short an outcry as scarlet billows pooled from the corners of the beast mouth. The two collapsed and the creature tore and chewed. Its presence flared to life like a candle receiving oxygen just before it could be snuffed out. He stood. The glands in his body began to undulate and the Rhak-skuri pheromones began to be produced once more.

His clawed hand grasped the hilt of his black metal blade, Thakkandar, and the alchemized steel hissed from its scabbard. He stalked on, shadows clung to his black lobstered steel armor like a sweet caress as he moved toward the presence of a richer meal. His upper lip peeled back at a junction and he inhaled deeply of the stale air before turning toward the ritual chambers. A part of him long buried beneath the vile monster writhed and sobbed at what he had become but his sticky blood stained chin showed no signs of noticing.

 

[Six-O]

LOCATION: Ossus - Central Atrium - Balcony
OBJECTIVE: Support Sith Organics | Beware the Forest
ALLIES: TSE | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Coniferous"] | [member="Vessa"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]
ENEMIES: GA | Repel Jedi and Soldiers | The Weald of Iniquity
GEAR: Cylix Pistol | HPB Pistols x 2 | Magnetic Reaper | CF6 Concussion Rifle | SIF-71 | YVHa-60 Chassis


A glittering strand of electricity stretched like webs, clinging to the metal Chassis of YVHa-60 with a snapping, hissing, sort of serpent greed. That sort of sound that made most Machines flinch. Six-O included. But, this Droid had transcended beyond the need to worry over such hazards. It had found a way to turn what was once it's greatest weakness against the enemies that would seek to prematurely end it's processes.

The Vonium-Pyronium Circuitry that extended through the steel interior like veins saw to that. Absorbing the discharge without fail, shunting it without worry, in to the very systems that delivered power to it's software and hardware mechanization. In that brief moment, as the crackle of Electromagnetic Energy swelled around it, YVHa-60 felt his operating systems receive this wonderful boon.

This joyous energy with which it could become an even more ferocious instrument of death and devastation.

With the Cylix Pistol in a hand, the CF6 Rifle in the other, the Droid began to plod along with robotic precision. Life in this fog of dust and battle ending abruptly as it strode. In one moment the skull of an Alliance soldier peeled open, shattered in to a sloppy mess of grotesque gore that painted multiple men that had stood idle beside their fallen ally firing down over the side of the shattered balcony at anything that appeared Sith.

In the next those very men that were left in the blood and wretch of a comrade now lost, withered and broke like dry stalks left long after season. Their bodies reduced to shaved splinters and torn strands of flesh as the bones that once held them together shattered under the Concussion of the Rifle in YVHa-60s outstretched hand.

It was a deafening sort of blast from the weapons full-power setting, even the grime that clogged the Atrium air billowed off in absolute fear.

It was absolute bedlam.

The Droid went on, killing more and more with Rifle, Pistols, it's very body crushing the enemy below the traumatic bludgeoning of it's limbs. No matter how much the damaged it, how many times they unleashed the bolts of their blasters in to it's blast armor and frame, the assault continued on endlessly.

Likewise, the snarl of conflict, rebounded from every last wall and stone of the Atrium.

Sebestev Szradislav, Sworn Sword of the Last Fathers struggled savagely, grappling with a Soldier a full head taller than he. Against the wall they fought, one scarcely able to over power the other until Sebestev clenched his teeth rabidly on to his enemies lower lip and peeled it off from his face with a ferocious bite, blood gushing, filling the Maenan's mouth as the sudden surprise of the action gave him enough purchase in the fight to begin thrusting the tip of a deadly Rondel Dagger in to the man again and again and again and again. . . and again! Stuffing as many depraved wounds as he could in to the Alliance man before moving on.

He and the other Fathers became simple black specks in the murky chaos as they marched onward out of the Atrium to reinforce the Library steps.

Lightsabers buzzed murderously, glowing blooms of light in the madness that hacked the limbs off from foe and friend alike. Flamethrowers glistened in the gloom even more destructively, long tongues of radiant flames that swallowed whole any life that was unfortunate enough to wander to close. Oh how they screamed and writhed, flailing in helpless agony from on side of the Atrium to the next before collapsing, doomed to smolder and cook.

Belphaegor, sheathed within a robe now filthy from the slaughter, did what he could, where he could. He darted and moved, trying to avoid foes that were clearly beyond his current skill. Another one approached, the Alchemized Blade in his hand lunged slipping with ease in to the body of his adversary. Immediately the woman began to shrivel and wane, screaming in absolute horror as her body constricted to the point that every bone snapped like glass. The cramp that the blade placed upon her continuing on and on until the life had been squeezed out entirely.

"[member="Vessa"], join me. I have seen enough. Today we reclaim this place for the Wild!"

The young Sith Ritualist turned towards the sound of [member="Coniferous"] and his pronouncement. There needn't be more said as the Wicked Wood and it's Mischievous Leaflet took root within the spiraling darkness that had been summoned to this place.

One by one the Robes approached the two, Belphaegor among them. Red, White, Black. They all connected. A single symbioses from which to evoke the ultimate darkness. Nature. Nothing was more cruel.

From that connection a breath of both life and death whispered out upon the Great Library, the ill-sound of Natura herself, and all of her fury. An outpouring of growth so magnificent and violent seemed to explode from every last crack and crevasse of this hallowed structure of Learning, and where life could not escape from below, the very stones shattered to dust. Vines, trees, plants of all manner leapt from every direction with such haste.

Dark, sinister, evil things that grabbed both Sith and Alliance. Pulling them apart like simple playthings, watering it's hunger with the blood of man and alien. Others swallowed whole, shredded with spur like teeth and even more simply strangled until the limbs of the body stopped fighting the inevitable fate of it all.

Yes, where once a Library stood, a massive Forest of utter darkness began to grow and threaten not just the Alliance that discovered this threat, but the Sith that had given life to it.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

LOCATION: Ossus, Central Atrium, under balcony.
OBJECTIVE: Make sure the ritual is completed - Fight the Jedi.
NEARBY: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Six-O"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Vessa"] [member="Coniferous"] [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] Lots of sithy ritual people.
KIT: Nagajj, tsaisibola, belt, robes, lightsabres, vibrodagger, portable shield.

FUWOM!

The air rushed past her as the twi'lek Jedi Master released her blast of energy. Darth Ophidia had not been able to throw up a barrier in time, but there were other ways of dealing with such an attack. Her weight shifted on her foot as she stepped back, into the direction of the push. Her arms came up to defend her face and upper torso as she let it grip her and simply turned with the force.

CRACK!

A shelf of dead wood and ancient records splintered to a thousand pieces as the soles of her feet landed on the wall. Her hands moved out to the sides as she did, parting the residual energy of the push and blasting apart the shelf to reveal a clean section of the stone wall beneath. The surface of it was a spider-web of cracks centred around the spot where she had landed, and she did not seem to fall from it either. Instead, the pale simply stood on the wall as if it was the floor, metaphorically laughing at gravity itself.

Her head suddenly snapped up, looking straight at the twi'lek. Legs tensed beneath her as the Pale jumped, inertia shifting, shje rolled up to a standing and threw the dagger in her left hand. The Jedi master took half a step with her back foot, swaying her body out of the way just in time to see a spark of blue lightning trailing from the Sith Lord's right hand fingers. The sparks connected in a flash, touching the hilt of the vibrodagger thrown.

The sonic emitter shattered like a small grenade. It was a glint of fire and hundreds of pieces of shrapnel from the shattered blade and metal hilt. It detonated right next to the Twi'lek's head. Metal bits were embedded in her face, in her body, in her brain-tails. Red crossed the verdant green hues of her skin as she skid to a halt, still standing, lightsabre at the ready.

The assassin was nowhere to be seen.

Then, from the left, a burst of red, angry plasma as the lightsabre was swung for the twi'lek's chest. She barely deflected it, but came off balance. Another cut, another thrust. The Jedi Master was on the defensive and the Sith Lord did not relent in her aggression. The strikes were not needlessly powerful, but they came at such angles that the Jedi always had to move her weapon to defend.

Suddenly, there was nowhere left to go, and the Sith Lord stopped?

The Jedi Master took it for arrogance and moved to step forward, blade swinging out to take the initiative, but something held her back. She couldn't move her legs, her left arm. Something squeezed her, pulled her back; green vines wrapped around her quickly as stone broke under the pressure of trees growing out of every crevice of the temple. She looked into the eyes of the assassin and saw her own reflection. Vines wrapped her body, her head, all but her eyes. She lost her sabre after the branches broke her hands, her arms, her legs.

And the Assassin simply watched nature take its course.