Private &nbsp; The Monster on 8th Street

The Amalgam
LOCATION: The Promenade, Nar Shaddaa
RELEVANT LINKS: Vladislav Von Kresvelgard
SPECIAL ITEMS: Shield Talisman | Sith Regenerator

The Promenade of Nar Shaddaa was a glitzy and extravagant commercial district of the smuggler's moon. Attracting all kinds of attention from the many criminals gangs that occupied this sector of the city or the rich and famous that wanted to win the favor of the mighty hutt clans who ruled over the hutt cartel. Although having decreased in power from the bryn'adul invasions that wrecked hutt space. They still had considerable power over this world as the hutts couldn't be stamped out for long. Filled to the brim with casinos, boutiques and other merchant stores. It was the perfect place if you wanted to open a legal venue on the planet as it was protected by the hutt clans who contributed a portion of their own security forces to maintain its order and safety. However a certain street of the promenade is avoided due to reports of a giant monster roaming around near the abandoned headquarters of Galactic Solutions Industries. Merchant Road 8 was a small time alleyway, nothing special or unique but it did provide unique vendors that sold less than legal wears to the nefarious criminals on the planet. Local Legends tells of a giant flying monster that resides there, draining the blood of the rich and poor with the only evidence being claw marks and a terrifying death shriek before the next kill is made. Investigators have found bodies drained of their fluids and left nothing more than dried husks, leaving many to avoid the 8th street all together and the Merchant Road is suffering because of it. The Mighty Hutt Clans have also been unable to solve the case as the monster as devoured even there own security teams and has beaten the best mercenary outfits around the square that provide order. Actual descriptions of the monster are weak at best and no solid leads have been discovered as of yet.

"A night of feasting is to be had today, although the rumors of a giant monster have been falsified to an extent. " Vladislav said to himself within the abandoned headquarters of Galactic Solutions Industries, having taken it over and turned it into a lair for the false flying monster persona that was nothing more than him within his sangnir warform. Turning around to gaze out the window, he discovered a pair of brave mercenaries attempting to track him down and end the threat for their Hutt Overlords. Vladislav found this amusing and with a simple turn of his cloak, smoke would begin to swirl all around him. Inside the smoke he would begin to change into his warform, a massive bat like monster over 11 feet tall and with a wingspan of 9 feet. Allowing him to fly through the sky and use them as weapons if need be on the battlefield. His hulking form would now descend from the broken skylight of the ancient headquarters into the night sky.

Peering down with his crimson eyes to a pair of mercenaries both being identified as duros. Although he could easily handle a few mercenaries, he had to be careful as one single blaster bolt could still damage him enough to force him to withdraw. Watching them from the shadows as he made his approach down upon a nearby rooftop with a slow flap of his wings. Careful enough not to flap them too hard otherwise the wind might be noticed by the pair and his advantage would be broken. Once the pair had approached near the shop owned by One Eyed Willy known as "Ransom Emporium", Vladislav made his careful walk on his bat legs to the edge of the rooftop, descending down with a swoop of his wings and releasing his death shriek. "Where is it, I can't find it..." One of the duros would shout to his partner on the field, shooting into the night sky as the shriek seemed to come from all directions. Vladislav avoided these bolts, snatching the duro with his clawed feet and back into the atmosphere. "Where did you go!" The duro partner shouted with confusion, aiming his blaster around before the sudden sound of a body was felt behind him. Turning around and spotting the remains of his duro friend having been drained clean like the legends fortold, beginning to run with haste towards the exit to merchant road 8. Although this unfortunate soul didn't go very far. Vladislav landed directly in front of him and with a single strike of his bladed wings, cut the blaster in half of the mercenary that tried to defend himself with. Rearing his head forward and crunching down on the head of the duro in front of himself. Draining the fluid from his body as his blood fueled the sangnir highblood. "A successful hunt it would seem," Vladislav said to himself as he flapped into the night sky back into his lair at the abandoned headquarters. The only thing visible would be his overcasting shadow.

The Bodies were waiting to be discovered, having been punctured with deep claw marks that managed their bodies and having two large fang bites that symbolized the tale of a large flying monster. Vladislav would touch down inside his lair, transforming back into his regular form and making his way towards a large holographic table. Allowing him to monitor whoever came into the merchant road 8 to investigate the disappearance of the hutt enforcers.

Xyoz Maji · Jan 10, 2022

"No fuckin' way."

Nar Shaada. A cesspool of crime. A wonderful, beautiful, cesspool of crime. That's what Xyoz was here for. Break into a few Hutt palaces, steal some priceless artifacts, maybe deal some drugs. Enjoy the chaos and freedom that a life of crime brought him. That, and the ability to feed without needing to worry about killing innocent people. He'd gotten good about holding back his thirst.

Meant fuck all when he was real hungry.

But this? He'd just kicked open the back door to a club, a handful of stolen jewelry being stuffed into his pocket. Quick hands, turned out. And all to stare at the lifeless bodies of some chumps who'd been eaten. And not by him. He recognized it immediately. The scent.

Sangnir.

His fur bristled as he crouched by one of the bodies. Of course there'd be some damn Sangnir munching around in his part of town. Couldn't be simple. It was either his crew targeting Mandalorians like some dumb karkers or Sangnir. Maybe he shouldn't do crime with this kind of luck. He reached down, lifting up the lifeless skull to peer into the pale eyes. Just staring for a moment.

"Well, I did miss killin' em."

Vladislav Von Kresvelgard

Darth Moskvin · Jan 10, 2022

Fatal Lullaby

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Gear: Staff of the Damned / Talisman of the Witch / Magical Gems / Energy Bow
Familiar: Archimedes
Tags: Vladislav Von Kresvelgard /

I came to the Smuggler's Moon in search of some trinkets not readily available in most galactic kiosks or venues, items deemed beyond the simple attachment of illegal. It wouldn't be hard to find them, this planet was more than helpful in that aspect; but what it lacked was fair pricing. Everything was grossly overpriced, and most attempts at bartering or haggling usually fell on deaf ears. Even the droids that operated in the merchant districts were programmed to squeeze every credit out of you. Even more frustrating, and rather bothersome, were the homeless street urchins trying to either sell you stolen merchandise, beg for food or credits, or attempt to pick your pockets. Their numbers swelled the districts like a festering plague. Thier kind always went missing, be it through capture to enslavement, from turf wars to cold-blooded murder, or crossing the path of some dark, sinister monster that would feed on them like live bantha. I am such a monster.

I'm Sangir, a vampire to the less intelligent. I was giving the Embrace when I was nineteen and against my will. Most of my memory has been lost to me regarding who I was before the Kiss, if not lost; deeply tucked away in a shrouded tomb of darkness. Whoever created me, also abandoned me in the same breath it took to change my life. Over the years, and it has been a lot of years, I pieced together what I am; and it took me another course of seasons to accept what I am. To the eyes that gaze upon me, I am a monster. But I am a monster with a personal code of conduct. I kill discreetly, feasting only on those that prey on the weaknesses of others. I prefer to be alone most times, cause when I see the living, I grow jealous; and then my jealousy turns to anger, and from there my anger turns to rage. And so forth. I'm not violent, like some of my blood kin, but I will defend myself viciously. Being a Sangir isn't a perfect life, but it's my life.

Now, whilst I was scanning through some old, relic-looking pieces of jewelry at a kiosk owned by an ill-tempered female Rodian, did I hear the first murmurs about a series of grisly murders. Bodies ravaged and drained, left dry as a bone. At first, I ignored it, pushing these fictious stories from my mind. Then at another kiosk, I heard the whispers about some monster, or creature, haunting some alleyway; 8th street they referenced it. There might have been a description or two, by then I was barely paying any attention. From earlier, my mind was hanging on the terms 'ravaged' and 'drained'. My first thought was Sangir. My second and third thoughts were why and why here? I've only met two others of my kind, one tried to kill me, the other bored me to death with a lesson in history in regard to our species. So, I knew we were rare. So why would a Sangir, by its actions, risk what was left of our kind to be hunted down to extinction? I couldn't let this beast continue this path, he or she needed to be stopped. Or at least, forced to see reason.

Every Sangir is unique, so my non-elected teacher explained to me, and I was as unique as they came. I have my warform at my disposal; being of Highblood. But that was secondary to what I truly possessed. I stepped inside a cemetery, looking for the freshest graves to lend me their residents. I carefully checked the engravements on each tombstone, settling on a trio recently put to ground. I withdrew my staff, placing the bottom on the hallowed ground of the graveyard and whistled. Before I could hunt, I needed information; and that's where Archimedes came in. My raven landed on my left shoulder; our eyes locked in a gaze of understanding. Through are emotions, Archimedes knew what I required of him. With a squawk, he flew off into the night, scouting the area. Now, I wait.

Vladislav Von Kresvelgard · Jan 11, 2022

THE MONSTER ON 8TH STREET

DIRECT TAGS:

The Amalgam
LOCATION: The Promenade, Nar Shaddaa
RELEVANT LINKS: Vladislav Von Kresvelgard
SPECIAL ITEMS: Shield Talisman | Sith Regenerator

The soft blue glow of the holographic projector would illuminate the sangnir highblood's clothes. Pulling up the cameras and viewing through the various ones until he came upon the exact thing that he was looking for at this time. Another meal had arrived directly within his den, although this one looked a little more strange than others he had seen. Vladislav went through the various species documented within the holographic table, coming up with the possible answer of a bothan. Bothans were known to be excellent spymasters having helped the Rebel Alliance multiple times providing vital intelligence to the movements of the Galactic Empire. Rumor even said that they helped the alliance recover the plans for the death star and which lead to the eventual decline of the galactic empire's hold on the galaxy. Although he suspected and pondered that this bothan wasn't here on spy business because there were plenty of information brokers within the city that could provide more information than simply walking the streets and talking to various gangsters and enforcers for the hutts. He needed a way to gather more information about the supposed bothan on his doorstep.

A smile came to him, small and subtle but a smile nonetheless. Peering over to the skeletons that he had brought back into his lair, the Von Kresvelgard were powerful necromancers more so than any other sangnir bloodline. Although since sangnir can't mingle with each other, these bloodlines were nothing more than lowbloods taking the same name as a highblood to form into a hypothetical bloodline. Twisting his palm and speaking a small but powerful variant of sith necromancy spells, the skeletons would come back to life having some form of semblance about them. There eyes glowed green with small flickers of light to them. He turned towards them with his crimson glare, issuing a simple command for them to follow. "Hunt the Bothan down, and bring his corpse to me." Vladislav said, as the skeleton warriors would make their way into an old service tunnel nearby that was apart of the abandoned Galactic Solutions Industries HQ, that he currently was using as the lair for the supposed "Monster on 8th Street" a more fitting name would be Garrosh, The Winged Terror. Vladislav chuckled to himself as that name came into being, he figured it would be good to have 3 seperate personas to play around with to fuel his hunger for blood. Those being Count Ivan Valtor of Hellmuth Holdings, Vladislav Von Kresvelgard and finally this new persona of Garrosh.

The skeletons would exit from the old service tunnel, popping up out of an alleyway that connected 8th street to 9th street. Peering over to the bothan with their dead glare. Before beginning to rush at him with blasters and knives drawn. Although they lacked the skill and experience of mercenaries because he had just recently brought them back from the dead. They could still hold their own in a fight if they could surround him. Some of them had armor, and some did not. Although they did have some form of tactic with the armored undead protecting their more vulnerable cousins. Vladislav would watch this battle from the cameras, concealing himself within the darkness of the room with only the small flickering glow of the holographic projector to keep him company.

Luther Lewis · Jan 12, 2022

Xyoz Maji |

Red was the colour of the day it seemed. 'More like the colour of the month' Luther thought, blood up to his elbows. The surgical room was quiet - all he could hear was the buzzing of the light above, the beeping of the monitors and of course the whick of his scalpel as he cut. The woman on the table breathed shallowly, a large tube down her throat.

With one final cut he finally separated the ruined mangle of flesh that was once the woman's right hand. He passed the amputated limb to a nurse, glancing at the blood pack that drained rapidly from a nearby giving set. A drop of sweat beaded on his head. He grabbed the necessary equipment and started suturing up the patient's arm.

"Luther!" the nurse said urgently. "The monitor!". The doctor's head snapped up, glancing at the machine as he watched the numbers drop and turn red. "Epinephrine" Luther said calmly, holding out his hand for the injector. It was going to be a long day…

- - - - -

Luther had just finished washing up when Walter confronted him. "Well?" the sheriff said. "What's the verdict doc?". Luther let out a weary sigh and dried his hands. "She's alive, though barely" Luther began, taking note of the look relief on Walter's face. "But she arrested during the surgery. Chances are she still might not recover". Walter's face soured back into a scowl, the usual countenance for the Hutt Cartel's premier sheriff. "That's not what I want to hear, Luther" Walter said, his tone low. "This is only person to have survived those blasted attacks on 8th street". The man ran his hand through his messy salt-and-pepper beard.

Luther shrugged. "I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker" Luther said, drained. "Maybe you should've hired a Jedi". He turned his back to the man and grabbed his bag off his desk. He'd already worked late and was dead tired. He had planned to cook dinner tonight, but the idea of hunching over his awful cooker in his cramped promenade apartment depressed him. He would have to grab some food from a stall on the way home instead.

Walter stopped him at the door to his office, the man's massive frame blocking Luther's exit. "You're not going home, doc" Walter said smugly. Luther dropped all pretense of niceties and gave the man a hostile look. "Why?" Luther said, crossing his arms. "Because there's been another attack" Walter said, ignoring Luther's tone. "And we need a coroner on scene".

Luther scrunched his eyes in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd started working on Nar Shaddaa to try and help people, but instead what he had experienced was the Hutt Cartel taking advantage of his better nature. Ever since the original Coroner's death he'd been on call, and likely would be until the murders on Merchant Road 8 stopped. "Fine" Luther said, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "Give me the details".

Xyoz Maji · Jan 14, 2022

He felt them before he saw them. Anger rippled through his mind as he stood, open hands slowly curling into fists. The familiar scent of blood magic. Sangnir magic. The low sound of a growl echoed in his throat as he turned his gaze to the first. Green, undead eyes were all that met him. The faint glow of his own golden eyes seemed to flash red as he raised a hand. It swiped to the side, and the head of the first was cleanly removed.

But more came. Xyoz's gaze narrowed as the stench of undeath filled his nostrils. The fight itself would be lackluster. Asides from killing the first, he didn't fight back. Blasters ripped through, knives cut and stabbed. Within moments what should've killed someone left him sprawled out on the ground. But he wasn't dead. Far from it. Whatever sent this many would be scared off. Time to be bait.

Darth Moskvin · Jan 14, 2022

Fatal Lullaby

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Gear: Staff of the Damned / Talisman of the Witch / Magical Gems / Bow of Immolation / Hilt
Familiar: Archimedes
Tags: Vladislav Von Kresvelgard /

My eyes closed as I 'listened' to Archimedes' report as he shifted excitedly upon my left shoulder. He didn't find this "monster", but he did spy a trio of skeletons shambling through darkened alleyways with a purpose of murderous intent. There was another necromancer here, and quite possibly the other Sangir. Unfortunately, the target for the trio of undead was unknown, but whomever was targeted was in grave danger. I needed to act, not on behalf of the endangered individual for their fate was not of my choosing, but I needed to garner more clues before furthering my investigation into these brutal, vicious attacks. It was entirely possible another Sangir was not involved, these attacks could be a result of a sadistic, psychopath who hunted the dark alleys for immoral pleasures, taking a gleeful stance in the mangling of innocent flesh. I had yet to catch a scent, except that of the rotting residences of the cemetery neighborhood, of Sangir and I might never catch that scent with the pollution elevated to toxic levels in this part of the city.

Positioning myself in a proper fashion that all three underground tombs where directly connected to my stance, I raised my staff and slammed it down hard upon the hallowed ground: releasing the three preset spells in a unified ritual. The ground in front of the tombstones began to shiver and shake, undertaking a sickly green hue that was followed by a rhythmic humming. Then, in an instant, all was silent. I began to smile. My ears began to pick up the rushing sounds of dead, broken nails tear through their coffins; the undead howling echoing returns back into rotting, worm housed ears as they fought against the dirt and grass to reach in success back to the land of the living. The first hand, yellow tinted and poached marked by the pinchers of grave beetles, struck upward; its festering flesh glistening in the moonlight. With grunts and dedicated efforts to trump their eternal beds, my playthings rose before me.

I walked up and down them as they remained in a straight line, their dead eyes staring into nothingness, examining each one. One suffered the loss of her lower jaw, replaced by a nest of squirming maggots on a predetermined tour. Her left eye, barely connected, hung limp from the socket. The second, a male whose entire chest cavity had been horribly crushed and quite possible the root cause of his death, betrayed jagged ribs protruding from grayish and black skin. Around the flesh where ribs and other cavity bones stuck out, larvae of another breed of insect staked claim to the corpse. And finally, the third one. His entire body, neck down was covered in matted fur and black mold. Tufts of fur were missing, exposing in its place wounds caused by impalement. There was nothing feasting of him yet. It was his head that stood out. The entire cranial system had been split equally down the middle, flaps of skin dangling on both the left and right. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to refocus themselves into a singular sight. This corpse was clearly a Wookie in life, but now he was a wretched, brainless tool.

Explicit orders were given to follow Archimedes. As for me, I transformed myself into a raven via my talisman and took flight in the direction of the last known sighting of the skeleton war party. It didn't take long to find them, or rather a collection of them. And it appeared they found their target, but he smelled different; but he was not the "monster", potentially a threat to the one I needed to hunt. Landing quickly in a defensive position away from the boney beasts, I returned to form and quickly unleased a volley of Force Blast into a small group of undead combatants; obliterating them where they stood.

Vladislav Von Kresvelgard · Jan 16, 2022

THE MONSTER ON 8TH STREET

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