Invasion The Second Coming | TIC Invasion of TSO-Held Thandon Super Hex | Objective One

[Taeli Raaf]

Allies: Srina Talon Madrona A’Mia Darth Carnifex Gerwald Lechner Revna Marr Mercy Reina Daival
Direct Enemy: Ella Nova
Other Enemies: TIC

Armor: Camlann | Equipment: Lightsaber | Shoto | Farrus Sphere containing a Misini Drake
​

In response to her greetings, there was the immediate snap-hiss of a lightsaber as the woman before her ignited her weapon. Even in those few moments, the reaction told her something about Ella, even as she replied by calling her Master. The woman was on edge, although whether it was about the invasion or another matter remained to be seen. The distant rumble drew her attention momentarily, just as the other woman's did. She could see the storm gathering near Psilofyr, red lightning crackling within its depths as it darkened the sky. A small tilt of her lips as she regarded the growing handywork of her oldest ally was all she offered the storm as she turned her attention back to Ella. She would bend down to place a hand against the foliage at their feet, sensing the World Tree even here and the pulse her daughter sent to the jungle's denizens.

The Imperials had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.

Ella mentioned Master Ru and her lips curled up even more. She wondered if Ella knew what had become of her former Master, all those decades ago in the Republic. She would at least be able to enlighten her about that. She would remain silent as Ella continued to speak, letting her dictate the flow of their little encounter. The younger woman was right; they could fight here and one of them would likely die. She was just confident on who that individual would be, but that would could come later. She also highly doubted the sincerity of the woman's statement that she wouldn't want to engage in a fight. If her suspicions were correct, given the pieces she had from Malum's dealings in Imperial politics with what had appeared to be Alicia Drey, she was certain Ella wanted nothing more than to see every Sith here dead. Her curiosity had been roused though, her brain wanting to piece together the puzzle before her.

"A game might be lovely," she responded, standing up fully to look at Ella fully as she turned. "Put the glow stick away, dear. We don't want you hurting yourself before we even start this game."

She would move with almost no sound, settling herself into the chair facing Ella and across the board.

"The first question becomes, if I have something you want, what exactly do you have that I would even want in exchange?" she continued, crossing her legs. "I don't require intelligence on the Imperial Confederation if that's your opening offer. I'm quite happy with my own, thank you." Connected as the Sith were through the World Tree on the world, she was aware of just how well the battle was going for them thus far. "But you would know that, wouldn't you? No, you have something else in mind. The second question then becomes how do you propose we remain honest with each other if this becomes a game of questions and answers?"

 

[Nerralyn Raaf]

Direct Allies: Sophia of House Marr Horus Rhyne
Other SO Allies: Gerwald Lechner Madrona A’Mia Srina Talon Mercy Darth Carnifex Revna Marr
Enemies: FN-999 (restored) and his Imperial 7th Army

Armor: Dorocha | Equipment: Lightsaber | Farrus Spheres containing Terentasaurs and Kasina Satwas
​

"You don't have to worry about Mother's creations. They won't harm you," she said, glancing up at the sky as dark clouds rumbled. She could feel the dark side coiling upon itself as it built within the storm, red lightning crackling within it as the sky continued to darken. "They recognize friend from foe as long as I or any of the other beastmasters among our forces are present." Rain started to patter against her armor as the storm was unleashed, lightning crackling down to strike out at the Imperials that had come to this world. From both her own senses and those of the scattered teams of her family's power base, contact had already been made with the Imperials by their creatures.

Listening to the mental messages being passed back and forth, she was aware that the Erupters had eviscerated what those TIE-looking crawler tanks had been. Their sacrifice was worthy, and more would be coming as it seemed they were proving quite effective against the enemy. The jungle itself began to shift as the power and attention of Psilofyr and its Mother were roused, roots moving subtly in the darkness of the storm. With a small wave to her two companions, she would say, "The Ravenscars, Vheh'Ramikad, and Geists are at your command, Sophia, Horus. Do with them what you will to debilitate the Imperials." She would step off her perch and fall to the forest floor below... until she landed upon one of the lowered heads of the Kasina Satwas, using the Force to cushion her landing.

Above where the Imperial 7th Army had regrouped itself, the storm continued to rumble and gain strength, fed by the power of Darth Carnifex and Lord Lechner and the various sorcerers under the command of her godfather. The red lightning would flash across the clouds and reveal a terrifying sight, one that the general had been forewarned about by his subordinate. Hundreds, if not thousands, of winged-mantis creatures were overhead in the dark clouds, visible only when the lightning arced out to strike a new target or coalesced to create an explosive discharge.

And rising now above the tree line with a mighty roar, would be the heads of the hydra monster she had summoned, bioplasma dripping from its maws as they reared back to unleash five gouts of fiery plasma towards the shield protecting the Imperial formation. The attack was a signal, and the Mantises began to swoop down while the Desolators and Supperaters in the tree line rushed out into the open in a wave of chitin and claws and fangs, looking to rip and tear their way through the enemy. Many would die, most likely, but more would come, called to the battle by Nerralyn and the Order of Arcane Syn.

To the general in command, to the men around him and under his command, a voice would be carried through the wind and rain, slipping into his mind, their minds, her voice... "If you throw down your arms, you will not come to harm. They will not touch you. You will be allowed to leave this world alive for your homes. Those who refuse will die. This is your only warning."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Armor | Nightstar | Bracer of the Grove Knight
​

Allies: Madrona A’Mia Revna Marr Gerwald Lechner Srina Talon Darth Carnifex Darth Caedes Taeli Raaf Mercy
Foe: Kito

Brosi was alive in a way that felt off compared to many places Lysander had known. Every footstep was met with a response from the planet itself, like he was connected to everything around. Then the sky shattered, the sun vanishing, swallowed by a storm. He saw the crimson lightning slither through darkened clouds. Rain poured down, rivulets trailed along the planes of his jaw, pooling at the bridge of his noise. There was no move to brush it away amidst the unfolding events. The Imperials had arrived.

Beneath him the tangled web of roots writhed once more. To his right, a tree pulled itself from the ground. He felt the unmistakable touch of Psilofyr’s power, intertwining with A'Mia's influence too. Sithspawn were pressing onward like a wave.. there was zero hesitation in them. Flames carved lanes through the battlefield from Lady Talon. Though he wasn’t near enough to be endangered, the mix of smoke, rain, and fire easily disrupted his lines of visibility. Just enough to make reading everything challenging.

Lysander should’ve been overwhelmed by. Lords, knights, beasts, machines, sorcery.. like a hundred conversations at once within a storm.

Amid it all, something failed to register. Most of the acolytes were operating close. Peripheral nodes.. aware of where they had been without looking. The first missing signal didn't alarm him. But then there was another. His head angled toward a root rise. Of course, he wouldn’t have expected to feel panic or desperation, as this was carved out early from them in the academy.. but there should have been something.

“So that’s how you want it,” came the murmur, barely more than a vibration.

Stepping closer to the tangled roots, the ground sloped down. With a swift hand gesture, he signaled the remaining acolytes nearby to spread out further. This would allow the back line to grow thinner, and if anyone was trailing him.. it would be easier to notice. Or so he believed.

Maybe it would have been smarter to go around, but he headed straight toward the Life Tree, so close now that its trunk filled his whole view. He wasn’t trying to disappear; no, he was sending an invitation to where everything was bleeding together. They’d have to step into the chaos with him.

Drawing on the exo-muscle subsystem of his armor and the Force together, he pushed off the ground and launched into the lower branches.

At no point was there an attempt to mask his signature.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Outer Rim
Stygian Caldera
Brosi
Tags: Friends — Srina Talon | Gerwald Lechner | Mercy | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr |
Lirka Ka | Eira Dyn | Darth Carnifex | Reina Daival | Lysander von Ascania |
Foes — The Lord of Hunger | Ronhar Tane | OPEN
Environmental Effects: Extremely Unsteady Ground, Hoards and Swarms of Sithspawn
Load-out

As Seen On High
​

Swarms of insects alone might have been worrying, and certainly the troops reacted as any sentient might to the sudden arrival of so may biting bugs. Their truly insidious nature soon showed itself as the Spark Bugs started to dig in to their food source of choice: technology. Battery cells spluttered and failed, control panels flickered and died, all while gnawing insects swarmed and sought to gorge themselves on whatever their mandibles could reach.

Deeper within the forest, bodies which had been collected from Brosi's urban areas, were being put to work. Biomass by the tonnage was sacrificed to several key altars that A'Mia had barely completed the construction of In time. Already tumultuous and churning, the terrain began to quake and smaller groves of trees shook with the thundering stampede caused by hundreds of enraged spirit guardians. These crazed beasts sought to intercept and assault any unwelcome upon their territory.

A'Mia's drake circled then rode a stormy updraft higher to gain altitude, arcing back toward the great crown of the world tree. On his way, he released one wrathful plume of plasma at irksome aircraft, then another before the breath-weapon needed to rebuild within his craw. Up, up he flew, riding the storm summoned by the Butcher King, hiding within the cloud until next he struck.

High above the battlefield, the Dark Lord continued to indulge in His ritual. Through the Dark Side, He could feel His companions across the battlefield. Each wielded the storm to their own ends, and He embraced their power just as they embraced His. Reina too lent her own power to the storm, the two of them sitting at the center of the ritual circle surrounded by the seven sorcerers.

The Hoardmother had been preoccupied for a time with properly waking the forest, encouraging the trees to march on their foes, and summoning swarms, but her attention soon turned back to an annoyance nearer the base of the tree.

Upon The Soil
​

Multitudes of entwining consciousnesses informed A'Mia as to the whereabouts and actions of one particularly dogged invader. Brosi's natural resistance to and transmutational properties toward disease was suspiciously active in his vicinity as well. In the original razing of the planet, necessitated by a plague and war, A'Mia and a handful of other Sith Lords had fortified this land against such foolish measures ever working quite so well again.

Not only was resistance to natural disease now incredibly high among the planets new flora and fauna, but the mycelium which was ever-present in the environment also had excellent resilience and purification properties against such biological attacks. It was clear that their invaders hadn't yet surmised as much— an advantage A'Mia was immensely grateful for as her forests lay burning and besieged.

So the ever gluttonous Sith Lord had brought rare and ravaging illness to her world? It was less like bringing a vibrodagger to a blaster fight and more like bringing a favored side dish to a potluck. A'Mia called upon Psilofyr for power, her Orchid Core for precision, then with a flick of her wrist wrought a cascade effect. As Darth Scabrous had learned so many centuries before, the Murakami remembered, A'Mia merely needed to coax it out of its new programming and into a more agreeable state. From within the center of blighted bodies, verdant life bloomed forth out of those sacrificed for the Lord of Hunger's ritual.

It was undoubtedly grotesque, but there was a kind of beauty to it as well. Twisting air roots jutting from eye sockets, broad green leaves pushing themselves out of abdomens or cut necks, and beautiful black-purple petals unfurling in unnatural bloom.

Virulent and malignant little thing, aren't you?
​

The words were carried to him on the burning wind and in the whispering, rustling of leaves. Hers was the voice of the forest and it was full of the Hoardmother's wrath. Lightning crackled in the distance and everything had the coppery scent of ozone.

Careful… Lest I turn the blood of your own body against you…​

In truth, she had too much to protect, A'Mia couldn't waste her time growing distracted with one infuriating sorcerer. So she let the threat hang and sank deeper into her connection with Psilofyr. The super-organism ached, wounded in too many places to count. Structurally though? He contained much strength yet, even beset as he was.

Her unison with him strengthened then and all of Brosi seemed to heave. Roots over a mile in length pushed up through trodden and ashen earth, ropey lengths of corded vegetation pulled itself free in an alarming diameter from the central world tree. Like an enraged cephalopod, the great tree now had many dozens of huge, angry limbs which promptly began to ensnare, whip, trip or crush anything unwelcome in their path.

The neti was so consumed by her work and observations, she hadn't noticed that she was slowly sliding into a seated position where her own physical body leaned against the tree's trunk. Her outpouring of care for and defense of the planet was taxing and testing her in ways she'd never experienced before. Beneath her finely crafted robes, small wounds were opening up, causing lines of dark green to bleed up through the enchanted fabric.

 

[Eira Dyn]

​

Objective: 1 - Protect the tree
Armour Mode: WAR
Equipment: Marwolaeth Ddu, Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword, Blaster Pistol
Allies: TSO
Opposition: Amni Kazda

The fist missed its target but Eira did not feel any disappointment in the lack of connection. This was a fight, while most fights Eira could end in a single hit, there were always going to be fights that took longer. Some would take far too long and that was okay. This was not a battle where Eira wanted to reach a goal, she was protecting a target instead. The longer she forced this fight to take, the less damage could be done to the tree. So, she allowed Amni to leap out of her way.

Feeling the ground beginning to crumble, Eira used the Force to levitate above it, just enough to prevent herself from being unstable but close enough to the ground to make it seem like the attack worked. Cautious fighting was not something that Eira wanted her opponent to start leaning into. Eira was keen on making sure that this imperial was reckless. Foolish so that the vulnerabilities would be exposed. Seeing the charged attack, Eira smirked behind the mask as she breathed in deeply and prepared herself.

Watching as the other woman pushed forward, Eira grabbed the blade in her crushgauntlet, seeing if she could use the enhanced strength to shatter the blade in her hand. The need for weapons were not important to Eira when you ensure that your body is more effective. With her other hand, Eira lifted it up and from her fingertips, Force Lightning blasted towards Amni. There was nothing that showed fear, anger or any emotion in fact. All Amni would see is the glowing, cold red eyes of the mask staring her down.

Eira was ensuring that this imperial understood that there was a reason Sith saw themselves superior, it was because they were and they always would be.

 

[T'zarna Khab]

Location: Behind Enemy Lines, Brosi
Objective: Eliminate Sith Command Staff
Tags: Lirka Ka

Dark clouds gathered over the battlefield of Brosi, Imperial and Sith regiments both cast their eyes skyward. What they saw though, that differed depending on who you were. The Imperials saw was a choking black miasma of terror and death, while the Sith saw the will of their dark god made manifest! That god was none other than Darth Carnifex , the patron saint of The Sith's dark faith. Many of their soldiers called out to their perverse deity, displaying their faith even in the pitched battle around them. The troops of The Empire meanwhile scattered to cover, avoiding the ruddy red bolts of hate that targeted their positions.

T'zarna was too busy struggling with Lirka and their armor to worry about the hateful bolts striking all around her. Her eyes were fixed on the point where her lightsaber met the beskar alloy of Lirka's breastplate. She was so focused on trying to cut through the durable chest piece that she didn't see the blade coming for her. It was a vibroblade made to cut through the toughest fortified metals, and soon it would do so to the Inquisitor!

A dark green ichor splattered out of T'zarna's side as the blade sank in, drawing a scream from the insectoid near-human. Her tough carapace was layered thickly enough there to blunt the strike, but the blade's vibrations allowed it to slice through with excruciating slowness. To most creatures it would have been deadly, to her it was another painful lesson.

T'zarna had few options with the blade stuck in her side. Running would avail her not, and fighting through would possibly kill her! To die for the hive, she figured, that was the only death that mattered.

In reaching out through the force the inquisitor knew that Lirka was all but immune to the various force abilities that she had. Force nulls were interesting, in that they could be found not through their presence, but in their absence. That distinct wrongness they cast out into The Force were their greatest strength, but also an exploitable weakness.

A thought crossed T'zarna's mind, Lirka was immune, but she herself was fully susceptible to The Force. There was one power which she could call on which could help her in this! T'zarna's body creaked and rumbled under her exoskeleton, a soft throbbing that came in time with hear heartbeat. It slowed for a moment, only to explode into an erratic drumming.

Veins pushed to the surface under T'zarna's glossy golden shell, a network of vessels and arteries that drew in power from the world around them. Force Body to some, Force Rage to others. What it was called mattered little, what it did was much more notable. It would effectively push the user's strength, speed, and endurance to those beyond the pale of normal humans. For T'zarna it was especially risky, as her muscles couldn't expand without causing hairline cracks in her armored hide. A sacrifice, but a worthy one.

Using her enhanced strength, she would grab onto Lirka's wrist, gripping it with the intent to make an impact. Either she would relinquish her blade, or she would lose her hand. Such was the inquisitor's hope anyway.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE I: TIMBER!!
BROSI

Ronhar had expected a number of things to have happened following his attack on Darth Carnifex .

He had expected to have been chased by thousands of bloodthirsty Sith warriors and he and his men scrambled down the side of the World Tree as quickly as they could. He had expected to be dodging mass driver fire from the orbiting Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators as the gunships tried desperately to thin the numbers of enemies pursuing Ronhar and Reclaimer Squad. He had expected all manners of Sith sorcery and force attacks on his position, and he had expected to be sent plunging to his death as he made his hasty retreat.

Yet none of those had happened. Perhaps the attack had worked, and Carnifex was dead? Ronhar dared to take a quick peek behind him as he descended, and the moment he did he soon wished that he hadn't.

For the moment he looked behind him he saw it firsthand, a massive wall of fire erupting toward his position, scorching and incinerating everything in its wake. Their would be no surviving flames at the magnitude, and everyone in Reclaimer Squad knew it. They doubled their efforts to escape, least they be swallowed up by the veritable sea of fire coming right after them. Unfortunately, two of Ronhar's squad mates weren't able to make it, turned to ash in mere seconds as the fire engulfed their very beings. All Ronhar could do was hope that their deaths had been quick and painless ones. Another one of Ronhar's men, perhaps panicked by the impending doom behind him, lost his footing on one of the branches of the World Tree, slipping from it and promptly falling to his death. The remaining members of Reclaimer Squad continued moving downwards until they reached a point where the fire was seemingly unable to reach them.

Ronhar paused for a moment just to catch his breath, as the rest of his surviving squad mates did the same. Down below, the World Tree itself was seemingly coming to life, thrashing about as it stabbed and snared anything unfortunate enough to be within its presence. It seemed that Ronhar's attack had failed, and Carnifex would surely be back up to his old tricks, raining hellfire and lightning down onto Ronhar's forces below.

At this rate, the Imperial attack was going to fail.

That left Ronhar with a difficult choice to make. Should he attempt to link back up with the Imperial forces marching toward the World Tree, or should he go back up it and face down Carnifex once more? Fighting the Sith Lord surely meant certain death, while going back toward the Imperial forces would leave them vulnerable to whatever fowl rituals the Sith had yet to unleash.

To Ronhar, the choice was clear.

"I'm going back up there, to finish this Carnifex once and for all", Ronhar stated simply. He let his statement hang in the air before continuing. "I won't ask you to come with me, for I know what it means to face a Dark Lord of the Sith. If any man here wishes to leave, now is there time to do so."

To his shock and surprise, no one took him up on his offer. To be fair, they were just as likely to die at the hands of Carnifex as they were to the thrashing roots and branches of the World Tree, but Ronhar could still scarcely believe all his men would be willing to come back up there with him.

"Very well. Let's move, Reclaimer!"

With that, Ronhar, the three surviving ARC Troopers and single surviving Storm Commando began to ascend the tree once more, their route marked by the now blacked tree bark of the where Carnifex's spell had burned the World Tree. It truly amazed Ronhar just how much these Sith were willing to sacrifice, not evening sparing a single thought about burning was was supposedly one of the sacred and important objects on this damned planet. Yet that was exactly why the Imperials were fighting the Sith in the first place, for any beings with such weak principles could never be fit to lead and rule.

After an agonizing trek upwards, Ronhar and company made their way back up to the ritual platform, where Carnifex was engaged with some Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators firing at him. It was a bit hard for Ronhar to tell what exactly he was doing, but it appeared as if he was almost sending a shadow to destroy the gunships one by one, sending them plunging deep into the forests below. Three of the gunships steered well clear of Carnifex's position, but the fourth and final one began to descend directly onto the platform below. For a fleeting moment, Ronhar hoped that the ship would crash directly on top of Carnifex, but he doubted that it would be enough to kill the man. Instead, he clambered onto the platform, activating the HNDA-Mk I hanging off his vest and pulling Burnblade from its back scabbard, setting the sword to its highest possible temperature setting.

Charred bodies and piles of ash were scattered all around him, probably victims of whatever Carnifex had done to send that wall of fire at him and his men. Yet, there was another being still on the platform, ( Reina Daival ), and Ronhar did not recognize who or what she was. The mere fact that she was still alive on that platform meant that she was either important to Carnifex, extremely dangerous, or quite possibly both things. Ronhar radio'd his men over his comms.

"You take the girl. Carnifex is mine. Good luck gentlemen, and may the galaxy be with us. We're going to need it."

The three ARC Troopers and the single Storm Commando began advancing toward Reina Daival , full of murderous intent and rage. Their Sonic-Strike Hatchets vibrated softly in their hands, and they started to try and encircle Reina, two men in front of her and two men behind her. Ronhar instead stepped toward Carnifex with Burnblade held aloft, almost taking a Form I opening stance. His HNDA-Mk I was continuing to blare on full blast, and Ronhar took only a small amount of solace in the device, not entirely convinced it would be enough to stop Carnifex from using his force powers. Still, Ronhar persisted, saying with false bravado and exaggerated swagger:

"I do hope you enjoyed the presents I sent you, Sith. Yet it seems as though you didn't receive them. Allow me to deliver them to you personally".

Meanwhile, the battle between Ronhar's forces and the various Sithspawn abominations attacking them was only intensifying. In addition to the man and machine eating bugs and strange plant monsters, the Sith had unleashed even more terrifying creatures of all shapes and sizes. Some of them charged directly into Imperial lines, raking man and machine alike with razor sharp clothes and long, knotty tendrils. Others attacked from afar, spitting globs of acid or razor sharp spikes at anything that moved. Yet, none of them, both Sith and Imperial alike, were prepared for what was to happen next.

The lighting strikes impacting Ronhar's forces were now hitting the ground with ever increasing frequency, becoming ever more powerful as they started to merge into one another. They became so powerful, in fact, that they created a massive explosion, far larger than anything the Imperial forces had experienced from the Sith yet. The fireball that the explosion created rose hundreds of meters into the air, utterly obliterating anything within its vicinity. Initial casualty estimates were in the thousands, and at least a quarter of Ronhar's forces had been killed, injured, or gone missing at this point, creating a real risk that the Imperial line was going to collapse entirely.

Yet, Carnifex's attack was truly something of a double edged sword, for as much as it had affected the Imperials, so too had it affected the Sithspawn attacking them. The insects, plants and monsters attacking the army were wiped out just as much as the Imperials were, being destroyed in a spectacular fireball that branched out into nearly every conceivable direction. Furthermore, the blast had leveled a large amount of Brosi's forest, now allowing the Imperials much easier access to the World Tree, though this what somewhat tempered by Madrona A’Mia 's root attacks and Drake mount. Still, Ronhar's AT-MAPs were now close enough to begin bombarding the base of the World Tree, flinging incendiary rounds with reckless abandon.

If ever there was a time to begin a coordinated assault, that time was NOW!

TAGS:
Madrona A’Mia
Darth Carnifex
Reina Daival
FN-999 (restored)
OPEN...IF YOU DARE!​

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Spoiler: Ronhar's Equipment

• Wampa-Pattern Industrial Exoskeleton
• Mk 45 Protective Vest
• Mahporeem Acid Rifle
• AAF-8 Scattergun
• BG-D 6 "Outlaw"
• Rhydonium Grenades
• ABC Scramblers
• Burnblade
• HNDA-Mk I
• Carapace Knitters
• ABC - Aerosolized Bacta Cannisters
• 5 ARC Troopers
• 2 Storm Commandos

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Slowly, the Dark Lord's eyes opened. As they did, the falling assault gunship halted dead in the middle of its descent. As it hung there, suspended by an invisible force, it was sudden wrenched back as if it had been physically struck. The entire center fuselage was gutted in an instant, debris and personnel spilling out as the entire craft now fell backwards and down the side of the Great Tree. Without having to life a finger, the Dark Lord of the Sith had torn apart the ship with a look alone.

That same look which now fell upon the returning Imperials.

They certainly did not comprehend the concept of survival, which might have been lauded by those who sent them here to die but would find no sympathy or pity from the Dark Lord. He rose at their arrival, slow and deliberately, each movement laden with meaningful weight. Standing fully upright, the Dark Lord of the Sith towered at an impressive 2.5 meters, heads taller than most among the assembled forces now watching. He took a step beyond the ritual circle, but the storm still continued; maintained by the life force of the remaining sorcerers and directed by a portion of the Dark Lord's will.

The lead Imperial unsheathed some sort of bladed weapon, which was then wreathed in bright orange and blue flames. Four others also came with the lead Imperial, brandishing their own weapons of choice. But they broke formation and began moving towards the Dark Lord's apprentice. He cast a brief glance towards her, His look conveying all that she would need to know.

This is a test.

I will be watching.

"I do hope you enjoyed the presents I sent you, Sith. Yet it seems as though you didn't receive them. Allow me to deliver them to you personally." Carnifex looked back at the Imperial with the sword, His expression never once changing throughout the entire time since He first rose to where He was now. A heavy cloak of glimmering scales hung from His broad shoulders, parting to briefly reveal the runic armor that clung close to His muscular frame. The briefest glimpse of a lightsaber hanging within an ornate holster at His side could also be seen.

The Dark Lord raised up one hand, His fingers pointed towards the Imperial like the talons of a monstrous raptor. "Animals such as yourself make a mockery of intelligent speech." Bright red lightning snaked out from the Dark Lord's fingertips, distorting the air and leeching color as it passed. The energy pooled into each bolt was enough to vitrify stone and superheat metal, and it was aimed squarely at the blade-wielding Imperial.

Ronhar Tane | Reina Daival ​

 

[Mercy]

ALLIES: Taeli Raaf | Madrona A’Mia | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Carnifex | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Lysander von Ascania
DIRECT ALLIES: Srina Talon | Revna Marr
DIRECT ENEMIES: Joseph Torson | Ronhar Tane

Even from a distance Mercy noticed the look that Revna gave her.

Courtesy of extreme physical enhancement.

Oh, she remembered the young Marr. She had been present in the conflict with her Master, Darth Strosius . It had been a silly affair, he got between her and her true prey, Darth Nefaron . And in the chaos of it all, the latter managed to escape, which had severely pissed her off and she tried to punish Strosius in return.

She wasn't really upset with him anymore however. Nef had never been her real enemy, only a personal request from Quinn Varanin and as such, the failure didn't feel personal a few days after the fact.

And maybe after she had some food.

Srina caught up with her easily after her exchange with Revna.

"An angry little one, that one." She communicated to Srina, but in fairness many were little when standing next to Mercy. "But full of fire, I think she wanted to tear my head off last time we met. You should introduce me, maybe I can charm her into leaving my head intact." Teasing them both there but whatever next she wanted to say was frozen on her tongue as she gasped.

Her eyes wide as Srina and her dragon pivoted around them. Their eyes meeting, nose practically to nose.

"Oh you show off..." Mercy gasped, watching as they careened down. Above in the sky, the storm conjured by Kaine was raging, casting a wide dark shadow over the battlefield. This was brilliant for her and more importantly for Babygirl, who was obsidian, almost pitch or soot black, and practically could disappear into the smog.

As Srina's dragon began to light Imperials, sentients and their equipment, up with the fire, Mercy watched as the forest itself came to life. It was a brilliant scene from far above. Even the shelling of the tree couldn't totally curb her enthusiasm. In a way... that was also beautiful, even if Madrona A’Mia would skin her alive for thinking that. The explosions against the powerful tree, moving it, even as it resisted the onslaught... it inspired Mercy.

She wanted to whoop again, in joy, but the silence was her friend now. Nobody would expect her while they were obscured by the smog of the storm.

She drew her arm back and threw the massive energy, raw and merciless, at the undoubtedly slow-moving Gunship ( Joseph Torson Joseph Torson ).

It would likely see her, eventually, through the darkness.

She was counting on that…Because more importantly?

She wasn't alone.

As Srina attacked the gunship below, Mercy and Babygirl drifted high above, waiting for the right moment. Right as Torson's ship tried to pivot or change course, the large dragon would suddenly pounce downward.

Coming down like a hammer to slam into the ship from up high.

Really, could anyone be surprised? As mother... as dragon.

 

[Joseph Torson]

S E C O N D_C O M I N G
Objective I : Timber

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
BROSI, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

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Spoiler: Gear

• Pseudosonic Beam Rifle [1]
• KXV-VBS-01A 'Streiter' Vibroblade [1]
• AAF-8 Scattergun [1]
• Rhydonium Grenades [5]
• Mk II Viral Bombs [3]
• Zsinj-pattern Commando Armor Mark I [w/Jetpack + Service Droid]

Spoiler: Accompanying Forces

• Imperial Assault Gunship [1/1]
• Red Right Hand Operatives [36/36]

As the Gunship continued to approach the World Tree, the skies above began to darken as the Sith began to alter the environment to get the upper-hand against the Imperial Armies below triggering a cascade of red lightning that struck the battlefield in rapid sequences in an attempt to disrupt the Imperial formations. With crimson lighting bolts flashing past the Gunship as it got closer and closer to the World Tree, Torson was contacted by the pilot of the Gunship via the comms. "Sir, it's getting a bit intense up here. We should probably land and continue to operation by foot." the pilot suggested.

"No. Keep us airborne. This lightning is nothing more then a Sith trick, erratic and lacking precision. Plus it's easier for us to locate the Sith Empress from here." Torson replied. Even as the lightning bolts grew closer and closer, Torson did not waiver as he was determined to accomplish his mission no matter what. Meanwhile in the cockpit, the pilots continued to look out for any signs of the Sith Empress which was starting to get more difficult due to the low visibility. "I'm going to bring us down a bit, the visibility is getting way too low at this altitude." the lead pilot proclaimed. "As long as it allows us to find the Empress do it." Torson replied.

As such the Gunship began to descend in an attempt to find better visibility in the darkness of the Sith storm. After lowering it's altitude by a couple hundred meters, the visibility improved just enough to allow the pilots to resume their search. However the clouds cleared they were suddenly struck by a bolt of red lightning that impacted the Gunship causing it to recoil a bit but the pilots managed to regain control. "What was that? Status?" the lead pilot inquired. "Shields down to 25%. Whatever hit us hit us very hard." the co-pilot replied. Then the co-pilot noticed something in the distance. "Wait over there!"

In the distance from the direction in which the lighting strike came from was a large flying beast and a single individual mounted on it. Upon noticing the beast and it's rider, the lead pilot contacted Torson. "Captain Torson, there is a flying beast right in front of us. Wait. That's the Empress! Srina Talon is on that beast." he exclaimed. "Engage them! Take down that beast now!" Torson shouted from the other side of the comms. Almost immediately the Gunship shifted it's position and began to charge at Talon's mount firing a volley of masercannons before firing a pair of cruise missiles towards the beast in an attempt to take it out.

As the Gunship engaged Srina Talon's mount, Torson smirked underneath his helmet. The real battle had truly begun now that they had the Sith Empress in their clutches and she had made it easier for him by riding a flying beast instead of standing her ground on the surface. This was going to be fun.

Tags [Targets] | Srina Talon | Mercy ​

 

[Lirka Ka]

ALLIES - TSO
ENEMIES - TIC, Direct: T'zarna Khab

​

The crackle. The sizzle. That beautiful moment when the blade sunk into flesh, electro-plasma filament whining into the wind before it is muffled by meat. Lirka had grown dull to killing, but the narcissistic pride she took in her weapons inflicting pain upon another…well, what good was life without take at least a little joy in your craft?

With the crackle of thunder and the growing pandemonium of the battlefield. Lirka couldn’t help but grin - here they were at the front, while all the great lords and ladies laid beneath the shade of the World Tree pounded by artillery from the attacking Imperial line. But here, in the muck and mire? Blade digging into meat, while another seared through her plates? This is where Lirka wanted to be. The primal strife of two monsters trying to kill each other, savage and personal while empires brawled.

For that moment while it dug into the Inquisitors side, Lirka pushed. Deeper. Deeper. Yet it was a slow action, deliberate. Savoring the moment - death solved so little. But a lesson unasked? Well…she did like to believe those had weight. A chance to witness the Path. Others would kill with hatred and malice in their hearts, but with the psychedelic tremors of faith in her veins. Lirka would be remiss not to indulge the primordial truths to another freak.

At least in her own way.

Lirka is watched the creature ripple and bulge, the clawed hand of the Inquisitor upon her wrist. Then the whining, the groaning of metal as her mechanisms weeped as connectors burst and soon the cold hardness of plundered Beskar gave way to what felt like all but ramming your fingers into sludge - a glimpse of the foulness beneath perhaps. The blade let loose with a clamber.

But all was silenced beneath the ear shattering boom that rocked Brosi from the heart of the forces of Ronhar Tane - for that moment when a second sun had come to life upon the surface of this world. Shockwaves rippling in the wake of the explosion so massive - weaker souls would have collapsed there and then. But Lirka Ka stood firm. The simmering flame of electro-plasma filament was minuscule in comparison now - pain surging through her being from the mangled hand: but pain was not an enemy to Lirka Ka, it was the reminder and the guide.

In pain, suffering. In suffering, transience.

She could taste it now in the smoldering air, hopes. Dreams. Ambitions of men who would think to smite down gods. They would learn: Lirka Ka had cast the name Dzara to this Galaxy, she had beckoned forth the birth of the Dread Triad upon Anoat. She was the Eater of Dreams. No matter how big, no matter how small. Till the universe gave way under despair.

And so in the wake of death and pain, she laughed. A thunderous laugh. A horrible laugh. There was a certain grace the the wielders of the Force liked to indulge themselves in: martial arts and twirling blades. Lirka felt no such strong compulsions. She was a creature of the pit.

So she gave her foe a reminder of that fact. The metal faceplate of the Sephi came slamming forward like a crude bludgeon. Again. And again. And again. In this moment so close, it was only proper to brawl like scum. Yet even now, Lirka Ka could not help herself but to talk.

“So much death, so many men sent to their graves! So many worthless, scuttling lives, expended. Will it be you next, assassin, when you have outlived your purpose to them?”

Taunting, goading, jesting and gabbing. The ceaseless prattling of the Once-Sephi.

​

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

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​

Direct Ally Tag: [SO]: Nerralyn Raaf + Horus Rhyne
Distant Ally Tag: [SO]: Taeli Raaf [ | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Carnifex | Madrona A’Mia | Mercy | Darth Prazutis | Srina Talon | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Spencer Varanin | Eira Dyn | "Templar" | Lirka Ka | Reina Daival
Enemy Tag: [TIC ] - FN-999 (restored)
Location: Brosi [Just Outside Fireball Radius]
NPC's: Ravenscars | Geists | Vheh'Ramikad (All targeting FN-999 (restored) troops, see end of post.)
Objective: Objective I

| Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...If this is your last stand, you should really stand somewhere else..."
___________​

"KÂR'NIFHEX, DRAZH'ÛLKAN AKÛL'NÊKRITH!"

The sky went black.

Her spine chilled twice over, and it made her momentarily back into Horus Rhyne a little more than their narrow tree branch might have allowed. It was ironic. It wasn’t the Imperial Confederation that frightened her within an inch of her life…It was the Kainite, with their chanting, bellowing that echoed across the battlefield. It was the exaltation of Darth Carnifex and perhaps even Darth Prazutis , who had recently escalated their feud with her brother to actual carnage and mayhem. Sophia, missed her elder brother.

She loved him.

But…Why couldn’t he have chosen less prolific Dark Lords to piss off?

It was true that the Empress had called for an end to the purge of Malum’s assets, but there had been quite a few cousins lost in the conflict. The majority of House Marr was located on Jutrand, not Alvaria, but the loss was felt all the same. Were they not loyal citizens of the Order? Did they not carry their weight? She was the youngest…

The littlest.

But Revna Marr and Lysander von Ascania notwithstanding, she was one of the few left, and her parents had tasked her with regaining their standing among those that might smite them down. That was her primary purpose on Brosi, even though there was a little bit of personal vengeance threaded in. Horus kissed the crown of her head and she settled with a little huff, knowing, that in the moment the eyes of the Kainite would be on the TIC invaders. Not her.

Thank the Force and every God in-between.

She caught the hiss Horus made when the insect hordes began to skitter and she felt a little bit better about her chicken-chit response to eight-legged freaks. “Maybe I should have read the dossier…”, she mumbled, a bit cheeky, but mollified by his assurances. He was a grown man. He could make his own decisions. He kissed her nose, and her face scrunched, petulant, because she didn’t want to look like a sop in front of Nerralyn Raaf when they were about to drop into this cluster karking mess.

"You don't have to worry about Mother's creations. They won't harm you,"

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

She couldn’t quite connect to the World Tree like the others, but she could feel something beneath the surface. Sophia fell silent when red lightning crackled down from the sky and struck Imperial troops without mercy, careless, whether it fried a few Sithspawn in the process. The red of her eyes matched the red of the light while it started to chain, growing stronger, instead of tapering off. She was slow to move when Lady Raaf gave them control of some of the troops because of the sheer magnitude of what they were watching…But she did move.

She stepped off the tree limb and floated down in a haze of crimson light that emanated from her palms. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her power shifted to the side to catch Horus and give him a place to fall. It was even darker beneath the canopy and she could hear the monstrous chittering of insect’s unseen, scuttling about them in waves, while three sets of humanoid soldiers fell into formation around them.

Sophia breathed in deeply.

All right then.

Go time.

Deeper within the forest, bodies which had been collected from Brosi's urban areas, were being put to work. Biomass by the tonnage was sacrificed to several key altars that A'Mia had barely completed the construction of In time. Already tumultuous and churning, the terrain began to quake and smaller groves of trees shook with the thundering stampede caused by hundreds of enraged spirit guardians. These crazed beasts sought to intercept and assault any unwelcome upon their territory.

The lighting strikes impacting Ronhar's forces were now hitting the ground with ever increasing frequency, becoming ever more powerful as they started to merge into one another. They became so powerful, in fact, that they created a massive explosion, far larger than anything the Imperial forces had experienced from the Sith yet. The fireball that the explosion created rose hundreds of meters into the air, utterly obliterating anything within its vicinity. Initial casualty estimates were in the thousands, and at least a quarter of Ronhar's forces had been killed, injured, or gone missing at this point, creating a real risk that the Imperial line was going to collapse entirely.

Yet, Carnifex's attack was truly something of a double edged sword, for as much as it had affected the Imperials, so too had it affected the Sithspawn attacking them. The insects, plants and monsters attacking the army were wiped out just as much as the Imperials were, being destroyed in a spectacular fireball that branched out into nearly every conceivable direction. Furthermore, the blast had leveled a large amount of Brosi's forest, now allowing the Imperials much easier access to the World Tree, though this what somewhat tempered by Madrona A’Mia's root attacks and Drake mount. Still, Ronhar's AT-MAPs were now close enough to begin bombarding the base of the World Tree, flinging incendiary rounds with reckless abandon.

They were surrounded by chaos.

When the first of the explosions started going off in the distance, the raven-haired woman thought that it was the Imperial Confederation firing off artillery a little too close to home. It didn’t make sense that the flames were spreading so quickly, let alone explosions, in the middle of what equated to a lush rainforest…But that was when a sickening smell hit her again. It was a cross between sulphur, smoke, and decay. Some kind of…chem?

Sophia did not know that it was due to the Noxinium A that was slowly spreading low to the ground, but now that her boots were on terrafirma she felt a feverishness that hadn’t been there before. Her enviro-shield wasn’t really meant for this,s but it provided clean air, so she activated the small unit at her belt, as well as a rebreather mask, and nodded her head for Horus Rhyne to do the same. He was right…

Neither one of them wanted to land in the infirmary this time, but, given the pillar of fire in the sky? That seemed unlikely, even if, the planet was capable of filtering away toxin and disease. Her eyes widened while the rolling detonation of flame stopped just short of their position. It was so close she could feel the heat through her armor and once again she noted the Force Signature of @Darth Carnifex… Of course. No warning.

Just a sudden chunk of hellscape.

Even in the wake of such an event, Brosi, didn’t stop. Madrona A’Mia didn’t stop. The ground beneath her feet began to shake and they were suddenly surrounded by new waves of spirit guardians charging forward. The roots of the World Tree had dipped low, burrowing, to avoid getting caught in the blaze and that was likely why it felt like they were dealing with a world quake. “We need to protect the World Tree…”

Her words were petulant because every time she went to make a move something new happened that left her, pun intended, rooted to the spot.

“Ma’am—Orders?”

It took Sophia way too long to respond.

She wasn’t a general or a tactician, though, the Sith Academy had taught her how to fight. Red-eyes turned toward Horus Rhyne while trying to take the best course of action. Part of the ( Ronhar Tane )Imperial forces were occupied with Darth Carnifex while others ( FN-999 (restored) ) were seemingly pressed on the backfoot by the creature-features of Brosi. From what sensors and her own abilities told her—They’d taken heavy losses.

They needed to be dealt with so that they could shatter Imperial Forces that were intent on shelling the World Tree into submission. Slowly, she nodded her head.

To the general in command, to the men around him and under his command, a voice would be carried through the wind and rain, slipping into his mind, their minds, her voice... "If you throw down your arms, you will not come to harm. They will not touch you. You will be allowed to leave this world alive for your homes. Those who refuse will die. This is your only warning."

That was not a decision she would have made, but, Nerralyn Raaf was the progeny of the Lady of Secrets. She would give this ploy a moment, but only, a moment. The Imperial Confederation had to pay for what they did to Horus—

For what they did to Brosi.

Right.

“Assuming they don’t wimp out…”, she turned to the Ravenscars, shadows among shadows.

“Blind them. No heroic garbage and whatever…Just kill their comms and targeting. Try to stir up confusion until they’re arguing with themselves and no one knows who is giving orders anymore…”

For the Geists her crimson gaze narrowed a little…What to do with them?

“Try to get behind enemy lines and target defenses. Look for medics, engineers, shielding, and wreck it so that when we come at them, their defense is trash. They're camping behind those AT-SG's...”

And for the Vheh’Ramikad? Strange, corrupted. Sith-Spawn versions that had once been Mandalorians…She glanced their way, not certain, they would obey. But Nerralyn said that they would…”Hold back and keep the Imperial rubbish off the World Tree.”

She breathed in.

“Be overwatch, for the others.”

Sophia wouldn’t undermine Nerralyn Raaf , but there was a fifty-fifty chance that no matter what the 7th Army and the rest of the battalions chose to do, she would end them regardless. She had no rousing speeches, no words of wisdom, and no pity for fools. The word of a trooper was meaningless, and the fact that they set foot on this planet after being sent away screaming the last time was a sign that they knew what awaited them. Anger started to burn in her core. Thinking of Horus…Thinking of Horus lying in the dirt, bleeding, with Imperial void-bullet fragments in his chest…

Trying to keep him alive.

Trying to keep him alive.

Trying to keep him alive.​

She snapped out of the memory with a snarl and began to stalk forward. How could Lady Raaf even THINK of letting them go? Let them rot, let them burn, let them fertilize the soil again and again until they finally karking learned to stay off of this rock.

“They came to die my loves…So give them death.”

 

[Rorsch]

Brosi
Objective: I - Timber!!
Allies: TIC
Hostiles: TSO
Equipment:

Spoiler

Kaldrweave Black Imperial Uniform
NZ LHEA Mk. II/EOTL Armor (Dyed Dark Grey)
NZ Modular Blaster-02E (Single Load Rocket Launcher Variant)
Inquisition Slugthrower DN-1 (Carries about 4+1 magazine's worth of bullets)
Baskethandle Lightfoil

Forces:

Spoiler: 27th Armored Column

Quaritch-1
Quaritch-2
Quaritch-3

15x AT-SWs - three groups of 5

• Sturm-1
• Sturm-3
• Sturm-3

12x AT-AWs - three groups of 4

• Vult-1
• Vult-2
• Vult-3

108x ZMDIII-KXU Droids
72x Heavy Weapons Stormtroopers (Armor, Weapon: X)

"General! Hostile front!" One of the spotters called out.

"How many, corporal?" Rorsch responded plainly.

"Umm.." the corporal sputtered, "just one, sir."

Rorsch grunted as he moved to the spotter's position within the command room of the behemoth. And looked at the visual screen the corporal was referring to. His pupilless eyes narrowed behind his antiox mask. With a movement of the wrist, he signalled to the driver to stop. "Column, halt."

Rorsch looked at the Sith's elaborate armor, his mind trying to read his opponent. In his mental calculations, he didn't even notice that the corporal was bent over the other way, throwing up as fear filled his stomach and emptied itself onto the floor. Then he saw the tear form, a portal ripping itself into existence from wherever Sith-hellspawn were birthed.

His brow furrowed as he watched the beast step onto the battlefield. Though his powers of the force were not well-honed, he could fill the despair in some of the men around him. He listened as a few blaster bolts fired off; he could hear over comms that some of his men were firing at nothing, their own minds fighting against them. Such were the dark powers of the Sith, such were things that were unaccounted for in Imperial briefings. Always looking at the tactical, never the supernatural.

But, he noticed something as the beast began to barrel forward, its dark master stayed behind, but its dark and twisted portal. A plan came to mind.

"All walkers, switch to baradium shells, it's clear this beast is born of the fire." Rorsch said over his command channel as he walked to a small locker towards the back of the command room. He punched in a code and removed his helmet from its resting place. "Infantry is to retreat behind the walkers. KXUs, if a soldier goes down, grab their weapons and fire. Focus all efforts on taking that beast down."

He placed the helmet on his head and listened as confirmations came through, but they were quickly drowned out by the higher-pitched squeal of his helmet pressurizing to his armor. He grabbed his revolver from his holster, he held it close to his 'ears' and listened as he rotated the cylinder... click..click..click..click...click. The timing was perfect. He'd always taken the time to give it maintenance. After the fall of the Empire of the Lost, there weren't many armories that knew how to keep them running.

He flourished his revolver for a second before resting it back in its holster. His precognition was going wild, too many things flashed before his mind. He saw the deaths of himself and his crew, he saw the obliteration of his column by this beast, he saw all sorts of terrible things, yet he remained calm. He knew his gift was that of things that could be, they were not set in stone. He exhaled before giving further orders.

"Column, I am transferring over control of the column to Quaritch-2 and the Colonel. Listen to her."

Over a private channel, CT-1144, called for the General, "Sir, what are you doing? You are meant to be leading this column."

"That is what I'm doing, Colonel. But, we won't make it far if I'm inside this tank. Look at our enemy, see what I see." he responded.

There was a brief measure of silence before Conqueror answered. "I don't see it, but I trust you. You've kept me alive this long."

"Good. One last piece of advice: if the beast is born of fire, what would it be weak to?" Rorsch said before opening a side hatch, stepping out onto the side railing of Quaritch-1.

"That's not advice, that was a question..." Silence followed, and what rorsch assumed was a hand slapping a forehead. The channel cut, but it wasn't long before the Colonel came over the command channel for the column.

<<"Alright, you sad excuses for soldiers. We are going to fell this monster and continue the mission. Quaritch-1 stay on heading, 2 and 3 are to break to the west and east, circle this damned thing. And arm all RPER missiles with cryoban warheads. Let's go!">>

-- X--
​

Rorsch shut down his communications channels, all but one. The private line remained open. If Conqueror needed him, she knew where to reach him.

He moved to the edge of the tank, watching as the quad guns opened up, streams of hot bolter fire tearing into the beast below. That was when he noticed the sky: dark, unnaturally so. Moments later, red lightning tore through the clouds. One bolt struck an assault walker, its shields flaring as the energy deflected, arcing to another, then another, then another. The shields held, for now. How long they would last was another matter entirely.

The entire turret of Quaritch-1 rotated as it locked onto the monster. Rorsch glanced over his shoulder in time to see several storm walkers fire their twin-linked Tane cannons. A heartbeat later, the boom of Quaritch-3 shook the ground as baradium-filled siege rounds screamed toward the target.

Rorsch vaulted from the side of the tank, hit the ground, and rolled, coming up in a low sprint. His eyes found the true threat, the Sith standing back, letting his beast do the killing. Rorsch ran in a wide arc rather than straight in, keeping to the trees that hadn't yet been reduced to ash. He would remain hidden for as long as he could, but once he was seen, he would commit fully. There was no sense in pretending stealth against an enemy who already outmatched him.

Most generals, at least those elevated by connections rather than service, would have withdrawn, choosing survival over duty. Not Rorsch. His place was here, with his men. Precognitive flashes tore through his mind: death, fire, collapse. He forced them down, quieting his thoughts.

His precognition was unlike anything described in the few texts he had studied. It never showed distant futures, only fragments of the immediate moments ahead. It had saved him before. Never like this. The violence of it churned his stomach. His opponent was powerful, far beyond him by any honest measure… but that could not be allowed to become arrogance.

No, he corrected himself. Do not underestimate them.

Still running, Rorsch reached over his shoulder and drew his lightfoil. With his off hand, he snapped his revolver free, ebonwood grip firm in his palm.

TAGS:
Darth Prazutis

NOTE: I will now be splitting my posts, column vs. Monster in the first half and Rorsch vs. Prazutis in the second half.​

 

[Reina Daival]

Direct Tag: Darth Carnifex
Ally Tags: Darth Prazutis Srina Talon Mercy Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Madrona A’Mia Revna Marr Darth Caedes Ronhar Tane
Objective:

How wonderful. Four against one. Reina should have felt complimented by that as she twirled her lightsaber in her grip for a moment, before pulling the dagger from its sheath into her alternate hand. She didn't even have to look in the direction of Him to know that Carnifex was watching her. Assessing her. This was a test. An exam in a way. To see how she would deal with a threat. Even if it was not for that, Reina felt a wave of clarity washing over her. Waves of the Force washing over her, far above the planet, from Quinn Varanin ...Yet at the same time, it didn't quite feel like the Echani. Since they first spent time together, Reina had felt a connection to the Echani, and it only fuelled the battle meditation as Reina assessed the situation.

A sudden sonic burst escaped her mouth, as the Ersansyr letting out a sonic screech, not fuelled by the Force but by her own being. It might not have had the intention to kill, but the recoil from disorientation felt as if she was tearing at her vocal chords as the sonic wave struck the two ARC troopers ahead of her, before she leapt up into the air, relying on her tried and true Form IV. She no longer had her prosthetic leg to impale people with, but that didn't stop her from using her body as a weapon as she landed on one of the ARC troopers. Yet instead of using her lightsaber, the Ersansyr wrapped her legs around the man, spinning around before throwing him off the side of the tree, hurtling through freefall.

One down. Three more to go. Though with only one trooper remaining disorientated from the screech, that meant the other two were swiftly advancing on the redhead. Speed was key for this. Sound based weaponry wasn't something she could deal with easily. As much as she wanted to write off the Imperials as being no smarter than a beast, even animals could be excellent pack hunters. A threat behind her and a threat in front of her. Trained. Experienced. Fortunately, so was she. She rushed forward to face the next ARC trooper whilst the Storm Commando advanced from behind. Her lightsaber slashed out towards the ARC trooper, melting through the Hatchet like a hot knife through butter thanks to Erinar crystal inside, before a sudden warmth erupted from the trooper's chest that continued to grow hotter, and hotter, as blood was boiled. The benefits of having a dual phase lightsaber, you can always pull of a few cheap tricks and extend your reach...Say, into an Imp's chest.

One lesson however she still needed to learn herself however was that daggers didn't make for great defensive tools. Especially from sonic impacts, as she raised the dagger behind herself to block the strike from the Storm Commando, the sudden vibration of the sonic wave rushing through her arm and causing her to flinch in pain. Only for her then to feel a hand gripping her hair and pulling her head back, swiftly being met with a knuckleguard to the face, sending her down to the ground.

"That's for my boys!"

Sharp white hot pain spread throughout the side of Reina's face, as she could taste copper in her mouth, rushing in. Fortunately she wasn't a mouthbreather anymore, taking in a deep inhale of air through her gills before rolling herself backwards to dodge a two handed strike of the axe, watching as it dug into the tree before she scrambled up to her feet. The Ersansyr's ears were ringing, even with the Battle Meditation keeping her focused and making sure her mind was clear of the pain. By now, the last ARC Trooper had came to his own senses and was rushing for Reina, whilst the Commando tore his hatchet out from the tree and advanced, hatchet held aloft. Before it found itself buried into the neck of the ARC Trooper, as Reina side-stepped, using the Force to pull the ARC Trooper forward and into the arc of the Commando's swing.

"...Was that also for your boys?"

She spat out the blood in her mouth, breaking out into a somewhat smug grin. Playing on the Commando's anger. His murderous intent. Treating him like a rabid animal. So imagine her surprise when the Commando actually charged at her, dropping the hatchet and instead rugby tackling her, slamming his shoulder into her hips, before rushing straight off the tree, with the air rushing past the pair of them. Though the Commando had a trick up their sleeve, releasing Reina to let her continue to fall, using his whipcord to grab onto the tree. Meanwhile as Reina fell, she felt herself...calm. At ease. She trusted the in the Force, as she fell into the plumes of smoke and fire that laid at the foot of the tree. Using the Force to descend her speed to a reasonable level, before she plunged into the water below.

Now the question was, would the Commando go and confirm his kill?​

 

[Srina Talon]

OBJECTIVE: 1
LOCATION: Brosi (Flying Near the World Tree)
APPEARANCE: XoXo
SO ALLIES: Gerwald Lechner | Madrona A’Mia | Mercy | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Taeli Raaf | Darth Prazutis | Nerralyn Raaf Horus Rhyne | Sophia of House Marr | Spencer Varanin | "Templar" | Lysander von Ascania
TIC ENEMY: Joseph Torson

____________________________________________________

“As you wish, my Empress.”

She hated those words.

It wasn’t that Revna Marr had spoken incorrectly. Infact—It was the epitome of what protocol demanded, offered with perfect poise, and not an ounce of fear or apprehension. It should have filled her with pride, but instead, she was eaten by the knowledge that she was sending her off to fight one of the few monsters the Imperial Confederation brought to bear. She acted with fact, not feelings, and the fact was: Revna Marr was best equipped.

Srina knew she needed to be free on the battlefield because there was no ritual for her to weave this time. Madrona A’Mia and Psilofyr were the crux of this fight, and maintaining the perimeter was something that required all of her focus. The World Tree was so large with restless roots that ran deep, so there was no way to keep every square inch of it covered.

There was no way to keep Psilofyr from all harm.

She could feel his pain and confusion, and she wished for a moment that she could take it away. He did not understand their war, only that the beings that had given him life and thought were under duress. That his home was being violently, thoughtlessly, invaded. Her soft mental apologies fell like rain for his roots burning, his aching, decaying forests suffering from defoliation.

It wasn’t fair to him, but war was never fair.

Her mind reached for Spencer Varanin and waited for the former Queen of Eshan to accept her. << Psilofyr is hurting…I can hear him...>>, the woman would know what it meant, considering she had joined Srina on the battlefield during its creation. There was a sense of urgency, but also the sense that the Empress knew something that she wasn’t saying. A huge plume of fire went up in her periphery, and her hands held tighter to her drake…The World Tree hadn’t asked for any of this.

Not even to be born in the first place.

<<Help him…Help them. I cannot be everywhere at once…>>

She didn’t look back toward Mercy while the woman began to muse about Revna Marr in earnest, though the notion of the Warlord charming anything made a wry smile stick at the corner of her mouth. It was just for a second, but it was there. Against her will. Threatening to break her face, clearly. <<She has reason to be angry…But I will consider it.>>

The feats of agility and speed that Vaelcryx were capable of made her an ideal companion because she mirrored the way Srina herself often fought. It wasn’t often that she was able to catch Mercy off guard, but that enjoyment lasted only a moment. Her drake had levied violet-fire at the Imperial forces below, and they hadn’t taken kindly to it—Shooting back.

But it was hard to see in the dark, and targeting was likely corrupted because of the storm.

The troopers missed wildly.

What really drew her focus, however, was the gunship that decided to surge toward her instead of away. The lightning that she’d thrown should have been enough to knock it out of the sky or at least disorient systems enough to force it to land…But that didn’t seem to be the case. It only took a second before maser cannons began to spit light through the storm, the first volley, tearing across the space Vaelcryx had occupied a breath earlier.

Through the wind and rain, at the next instant of fire, she created a sharp impulse that shoved both drake and rider a body-length sideways. She deliberately displaced herself so that the next volley followed where the first had taught the weapons to aim. Missiles screamed free, and Srina could immediately feel them tear through the air. She didn’t reach for the warheads because she wasn’t a scientist, but rather, reached for the storm once more.

The phylactery belonging to Darth Carnifex flared to life from around her neck, pulsing, with bleak and black power. She joined the massive weather event for a moment and threaded her will through the lightning and pressure until the sky answered like a living thing. She could hear his servants chanting on the wind, distant, sonorous…And the static in the air caused one of the missiles to detonate early, swallowed by rain and thunder.

The other veered hard off to the left in a sheer of wind that it could not compensate for and detonated in the distance. Vaelcryx folded and dropped beneath the gunship's nose, close enough that turbulence clawed at her hair. She could see the shields cycling, and her drake moved directly beneath the ship, giving a roar that pierced the storm, before opening its great maw to breathe violet-flame and plasma up at the gunship.

It was bright, and the kinetic force of the blow would push the ship upward.

At the exact moment, Mercy descended from above.

Spoiler: Equpiment

Armour Saber Ring Ring Terentatek Body Gloves HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon Holding Aces Popper NPC Units Drake "Vaelcryx" Unknown

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This | WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Howling Death
ALLIES:: Srina Talon | Madrona A’Mia | Mercy | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Taeli Raaf | Darth Prazutis
ENEMIES:: Taregh Garon​

Blaster fire cracked through the rain and found the drake again.

Bolts struck its chest and shoulders and flared bright against armored scales before skidding away into steam. More followed, snapping toward its wings and chewing at the air where it had been a heartbeat earlier, but none of it bit the way the troopers needed it to. The Misini Arira recoiled with a sharp snap of its jaws, irritation rising fast, and then pushed off the ground with a heavy beat of its wings that tore it back into the sky.

It did not flee, and it did not give them an easy line.

It climbed through smoke and falling rain, banked wide over the torn corridor, and came back low and fast. Flame spilled from its throat in a sweeping pass that washed heat across churned earth and exposed roots. The fire did not linger long enough to be aimed at. It forced movement, broke spacing, and pulled the troopers’ focus upward and outward before the drake climbed again and disappeared into cloud and shadow.

Gerwald did not look up.

The Lord Commander kept his attention on Taregh and on the way the Inquisitor moved across ground that refused to stay still. The rain had thickened into a hard downpour, and it fell with enough force to flatten smoke and pull heat down into the soil. Water ran along armor and bark alike and fed the roots beneath them until the ground began to give in subtle ways. Fire clung where it could. It burned on in patches, ugly and persistent, but the downpour was taking its strength.

Gerwald felt the storm as more than weather.

The hand of Darth Carnifex was unmistakable in it. The pressure above carried weight that did not belong to chance, and lightning moved with purpose that nature did not possess. Gerwald did not resist that presence. He leaned into it and added to it, feeding the rain where flame still chewed and lending strength to what had already been set in motion.

Srina Talon joined it soon after, and Gerwald felt her the moment she touched the storm.

Her presence came sharp and familiar, threading through clouds and lightning with the same practiced precision she brought to every battlefield. Gerwald answered without lifting his gaze, and he kept the contact brief because Taregh was already moving again.

<<Draw from me. Take what you need.>> The thought was steady. Once again Gerwald offered his energy to Srina as he had done so many times before. <<I will hold.>>

He closed the channel immediately after, and the storm above them tightened as if it had been braced from more than one direction.

Far from their corridor, something tore into the Force.

Gerwald felt it through the roots and through the sudden recoil of the ground as if Brosi itself recognized a predator it did not want to touch. The Noćna Mora’s presence burned across his senses like a reopened scar, dragging memory and rage up from a place he kept tightly bound. Darth Prazutis had loosed it again. The same kind of horror that had once been used to bind Naedira, and the anger that rose at that knowledge landed in the same breath as a grim relief that it was being turned outward, against the enemy.

Gerwald did not let either feeling take him.

The moment belonged to Taregh.

The Inquisitor, Taregh Garon came at him through rain and steam with the greatsaber already in motion, sweeping low and wide with enough force to batter a lesser man into the ground. Gerwald met the pressure with Howling Death and braced the haft to take the blow without giving Taregh an angle to turn strength into inevitability. Sparks flared where plasma kissed metal. The impact drove through his arms and into his shoulders, heavy but manageable, and he held his ground.

They separated by a step, and then the Inquisitor moved again.

Roots shifted beneath their boots, responding to @Madrona A’Mia’s work deeper in the forest. The ground tightened in one place and softened in another, never quite settling, never quite offering the clean footing the Imperials wanted. Gerwald adjusted without looking down. He stayed close enough that Taregh could not simply build rhythm, and he forced the Inquisitor to keep resetting on ground that did not want him there.

Above the canopy, shapes moved through the storm.

Two drakes crossed high in the dark, silhouettes slipping between cloud and lightning. Mercy was there with the Empress as well. She was predatory and patient, using the weather as cover while she waited for a moment to fall like a hammer. The storm bent around them. It did not strike them, and that alone told Gerwald how firmly Carnifex held the sky together.

Behind him, blaster fire cracked again, and the Misini Arira answered with a roar from somewhere above the rain before it vanished once more into cloud.

Gerwald pressed forward.

Howling Death came around low and close, its path angled toward Taregh’s left side where the forward leg carried his weight and the armor had to fold in order to move. Gerwald did not throw the strike wide nor did he make any grand overture to end the fight quickly. He let the axe threaten his enemy’s balance and space instead, forcing the attention to the Inquisitor’s footing as the rain dragged at the metal and mud pulled at their boots. Above them the storm continued to build, and around them the forest pressed inward while fire lost what little ground it still held.

Steel, plasma, rain, and root met in a narrow circle that kept shifting.

Gerwald stayed inside it, silent and unyielding, feeding the storm as long as it would take him and holding the line while Brosi, wounded but unbroken, continued to wake beneath their feet.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The Imperial column's halt reached Prazutis as a taste on the air, discipline sharpened, fear beaten into order. He watched the formation reconfigure, walkers shifting lanes with practiced weight, infantry folding behind armor, droids scavenging the fallen and returning fire with mechanical indifference. A battlefield reduced to an equation. The Noćna Mora met the opening barrage like a god swallowing thunder, quad guns stitching its chest, siege rounds blooming into violent suns, cryoban detonations frosting its fissured hide. For a breath the Devourer vanished in fire and pulverized stone, then it emerged laughing its voice came as pressure in the skull, not sound, its charge stuttering as rime crawled over iron-hard plates, slowing its movement. Offended, it surged anyway. Claws carved trenches, its tail scythed cover into shrapnel. It became furious. When it inhaled, it exhaled a sheet of flame that hissed against cryo-fog and turned white vapor into screaming steam. Meter by meter, the Imperials paid, and still they held.

The Mortarch remained unmoved beside the wound. Behind Him the portal yawned, rimmed in soot-black sigils burning crimson without warmth. It bled corpse-cold into the choke point, thickening the air into low ash-frost mist; reality shivered at its edge. Through ordinance and screams, His sorcery did not break cadence, no frantic chant, no theatrics, only law spoken aloud, each syllable widening the tear by inches. Red lightning raked the walkers' shielding, making the grid flicker like a dying heartbeat. Beneath the cannon crack and the Devourer's laughter, something shifted within the breach, weight, presence. Roots recoiled. Breath fogged inside filters. A low hymn rolled out, felt in teeth and gut. Prazutis lifted His hand, fingers spreading with controlled inevitability. His helm angled toward the line. "You learn." He said, calm as verdict. "Orders, formations, clever shells, how adorably mortal." The portal's edge widened as He spoke. "You change your shells and tell yourselves the monster becomes manageable." The rune-lit lenses of Xûl-Karzaan held the column like an insect beneath glass. "Tell me, does vermin believe itself mighty because it learns which corner avoids the broom?" His gauntlet flexed once. "But you still think this is solvable at range."

The sigils flared. The breach opened with a grinding, unzipping scream of stone and bone, and the second Devourer stepped through. Broader, heavier, crowned in jagged horn, hide older and darker, ember-fissures pulsing like a starving heart. It planted one foot and the ground answered with a fault-line crack. The first Devourer hurled itself back into the kill, forcing fire-splits and frantic angles; the second lingered at the breach, head tilted, aura drowning rather than frenzied. Then the portal breathed. Cerulean Netherfire spilled low and crawling, clinging to cracks and trenches, turning frost to screaming steam and metal to singing heat. The pair answered like hounds scenting blood, one throwing a roaring sheet of flame, the other spitting molten breath that clung to armor and cover and refused to die. All through the furnace haze, Prazutis remained at the mouth of the tear, runes pulsing across Qâzjiin'vraal, the plate swallowing muzzle-flash and panic alike. "You came to fell a tree." He said, and Psilofyr's roots groaned as if the planet listened. "You dared take what does not belong to you." The portal deepened, more weight pressing forward. "So understand me now…" The helm turned, addressing the challenge itself. "You're the noise a boot makes when it finds something soft."

Prazutis did not cast the way lesser sorcerers cast. He did not need distance, time, or ceremony, not with Qâzjiin'vraal drinking fear like oxygen, not with Xûl-Karzaan turning the battlefield into an open book of weak seams and failing resolve, not with Ka'ra'nazat pulsing at his throat and converting the column's terror into fuel. The runes along His gauntlet and warplate brightened in slow synchrony, as if something living inside the metal had inhaled. Then the Dark Lord compressed the Dark Side into a point.

The air buckled, silent, absolute, and a spear of midnight formed in his grasp. Darkshear, a piercing absence, a blade-shaped void that drank color and left only the sensation of wrongness. He drove it forward in a sustained thrust, and it did not fly like a projectile so much as it arrived, a straight, merciless line that cut through smoke and heat-haze as if distance itself had been instructed to stop mattering. If it struck, it would not simply puncture armor. It would age it. Plating would bloom with instant rust; treated alloys would whiten, crack, and turn brittle at the seams as though decades of fatigue had been demanded in a heartbeat. Power cells would gutter and drain into dead silence. Servo-joints would grind, lock, and seize mid-motion. Weapon mechanisms would jam as if their tolerances had warped out of alignment. Seals would fail. Visors would fog. Anything engineered to endure would suddenly feel like it had been left to rot in a grave for thirty years and then forced to work anyway.

But the body inside would fare worse. Muscles would hollow with instant atrophy; tendons would tighten and scream; lungs would clamp as if wrapped in wet cloth; the heart would stutter under sudden strain; joints would betray their owner in a single, catastrophic moment of weakness. The victim wouldn't just be hurt, they'd be made older, robbed of strength and breath in the same beat the spear kissed flesh and bone. Even if they survived the strike, they would stagger out of it diminished. Slowed, shaking, lungs failing, hands unreliable, armor compromised, forced to fight on in a body and kit the Dark Side had just fast-forwarded toward ruin.

Rorsch | Gerwald Lechner | Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | Madrona A’Mia | Mercy | Taeli Raaf​

 

[Revna Marr]

Objective One
Gear: Armor, Lightsaber
SO Allies: Srina Talon // Madrona A’Mia // Mercy // Darth Carnifex // Darth Prazutis // Gerwald Lechner // Darth Caedes // Taeli Raaf
Enemies: TIC - Maybe The Lord of Hunger ​

Revna quietly observed the Lord of Hunger, studying him as one would an experiment…or perhaps as prey. His presence was noticed, sickly and pulsating in the Force. Yet it still paled in strength compared to some of the Dark Lords Revna had brushed shoulders with.

She knew what true power felt and looked like…and what she saw before her, still did not impress her. She wasn’t here to be impressed anyway. She was here to see what this creature wanted from her, wanted from Brosi…from those whose shadow he rode on for his own schemes and machinations.

He at least had that right - he was manipulating the Imperials for his own ends. What a Sithly thing to do.

Revna’s attention briefly registered the flickering green glow of crystals within the gauntlet on his hand. She noted the tendril of power that seemed embedded into the soil, trying to leech whatever it could from it. It would gain next to nothing, as she knew Psilofyr would not be beholden to this entity’s schemes or attempts to wrestle it away from its loyalties. It didn’t concern her - the bodies that had been sacrificed to fuel this entity’s hunger and power pool, however…now that was something she took note of. He had fed, amplified himself - but to what end or purpose?

Did he intend to undergo some ritual that he thought the Sith at large wouldn’t be able to suspend or counteract?

Did he intend to fight her? That thought almost made her giddy, and it was rather tempting to give in to the idea so soon. Perhaps a conflict was inevitable and it would come down to it…or perhaps it wouldn’t.

"You are worth my attention child, both you and your master hold a view, a vision and a potential which separates you from these rabble, these delusional children playing with fire and lightning, with beasts and billowing drakes,"

Revna continued to listen as the creature in front of her began his response, folding her hands behind her back and standing in a militant stance that was eerily similar to that of Darth Strosius . Her face remained relatively emotionless, though within her mind she could feel a stir of amusement. He likened powerful Dark Lords of the Sith like Srina Talon, Kaine and Braxus Zambrano, Gerwald Lechner, and Taeli Raaf to delusional children?

…Was this man so full of his own self importance that he waived off the very clear signs of incredible power being actively displayed by such Dark Lords? She didn’t see him doing anything to prove his own power or capabilities - perhaps that was by design. Who knew? Though, Revna did idly wondered how this ‘Sith’ would fare against those he called ‘children’; perhaps, she would deliver him unto them for judgment, and enjoy how he fell apart before them. Srina’s wish rolled around in her mind, but she set that aside for the moment.

Despite what she was hearing, she kept her tongue still and afforded him the respect he had given her when she had spoken to him initially. She was also rather curious - curious to know more about him, about his schemes, and why he had decided she was ‘worth’ his attention. So, for the moment she would simply appear as a quiet and perhaps subdued Sith Acolyte, before one of supposedly greater power and strength than she. It was likely that was true, he was still an unknown variable to her. She would not truly know the extent of his power, his strength, his might, until she tested it for herself…

"Do you intend to face me proper, do you wish to fight me child? If so, would it be on the orders of the Empress of the Sith, or perhaps in name of the duplicitous Kaïnites? Perhaps it is in the name of your family, who have suffered greatly in terms of influence and importance... it matters not."

Revna felt an eyebrow quirk upwards slightly at this next statement. He clearly did not know her, though he spouted words that might say otherwise. He thought she did things on orders of the Kainate, her sworn enemy? She almost laughed at that. Oh her Master would be ranting and raving if He heard such words; the thought of it made her chuckle inwardly. And how would he know why she was here, or even who sent her, to begin with?

She watched his free hand open and gesture towards her, perhaps in an attempt to make her think about his words. And oh, she was. Rolling them around in her mind, digesting them, ripping them to pieces in silence.

"Your master has feuded from his seat on Korriban on many an occasion with the throne of blood and bone, you so happen to be one of the few with some influence over the tree, and you are tied to Korriban... I wonder who's the loose end in this case...you...or me?"

Now confusion entered her mind, ever so briefly. …He thinks Caedes is my master…how interesting. Does…does he believe he can use me against him and A'Mia, somehow? I’d like to see him try.

Her eyes shifted once more to the way he held himself, ready to engage her in combat if it came to it. She took stock of what was around her, before she lifted her fiery eyes back to his own, and tilted her head in a manner similar to his own actions. Then, she smiled - one that did not reflect in her eyes.

But maybe…I can play around with this and see how this might work to my benefit.

She took a step closer to him, rain pouring off the seemingly ornate and ceremonial look of her robes. Was she stepping into a trap? She was hoping to find out.

“I came on my own volition, dark sider. You called my name, looking for me…I heard your whispers through the roots you try in vain to control and bend to your own will. Perhaps against my better judgment - I am here now. So tell me, why have you taken an interest in me? And why should I care?”

Revna paused, then glanced from side to side, almost in a conspiratorial way - as if checking to make sure that no one else besides the one in front of her could hear what could be said here. All around them, chaos had erupted as war truly began to wage across Brosi's surface. Within her, she could feel Psilofyr's pain, the recoil and lash back against so many wounds being inflicted upon it. No doubt, Madrona A’Mia was also suffering - but she was powerful, she would keep on fighting, that much Revna was certain. The Sith that Revna called allies and even family, did not know the meaning of "surrender".

“You tried to have my master and I meet you some place after our last encounter on the ill fated Death Star III. Is that why you have come here now and seek me out directly...?”
​

 

[Mercy]

ALLIES: Taeli Raaf | @Madrona A'Mia | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Carnifex | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Lysander von Ascania
DIRECT ALLIES: Srina Talon
DIRECT ENEMIES: Joseph Torson | Ronhar Tane

As Srina attacked the gunship below, Mercy and Babygirl drifted high above, waiting for the right moment. Right as Torson's ship tried to pivot or change course, the large dragon would suddenly pounce downward.

Coming down like a hammer to slam into the ship from up high.

"Captain Torson, there is a flying beast right in front of us. Wait. That's the Empress! Srina Talon is on that beast." he exclaimed. "Engage them! Take down that beast now!" Torson shouted from the other side of the comms. Almost immediately the Gunship shifted it's position and began to charge at Talon's mount firing a volley of masercannons before firing a pair of cruise missiles towards the beast in an attempt to take it out.

As the Gunship engaged Srina Talon's mount, Torson smirked underneath his helmet. The real battle had truly begun now that they had the Sith Empress in their clutches and she had made it easier for him by riding a flying beast instead of standing her ground on the surface. This was going to be fun.

The other veered hard off to the left in a sheer of wind that it could not compensate for and detonated in the distance. Vaelcryx folded and dropped beneath the gunship's nose, close enough that turbulence clawed at her hair. She could see the shields cycling, and her drake moved directly beneath the ship, giving a roar that pierced the storm, before opening its great maw to breathe violet-flame and plasma up at the gunship.

It was bright, and the kinetic force of the blow would push the ship upward.

At the exact moment, Mercy descended from above.

Everything else in the world evaporated to her.

She didn't see the sorcery done by Darth Carnifex , she barely felt the hum of the Dark Side in the air from his magicks. She didn't hear Revna Marr 's conflict with her enemy, how confident and formidable she was. She couldn't even be proud of Lysander von Ascania for stepping up to the plate and taking on an old friend of theirs.

All that her vision saw was the opportunity.

Torson and his men were so focused on Srina, they had completely missed her. She could practically taste the blood. Then as Vaelcryx slammed up, to hit the gunship from below, Babygirl came down like a hammer from above with Vaelcryx serving as the anvil. All aimed towards taking advantage of that one moment of unawareness.

To smash the gunship into a pancake with everything that entailed.

It was a good thing they were high up in the air and that the noises of explosions rang everywhere. It meant most people would not hear the cackling, mad laughter from Mercy as she practically felt draconic claws tearing through metal.

 

[Taregh Garon]

Brosi
Equipment: Greatsaber | Inquisition's Fist | Menasor Armor
Allies: Imperials
Enemies: Sith | Gerwald Lechner​

---

Uneven ground was never an ally in battle unless it aided you.

Now that he was moving, letting saber sweep wide and arc into the axe of his opponent Taregh had started to notice how the ground shifted beneath his feet.

One moment he was on what felt like sure footing and the next his stance became awkward while roots threatened to snare his feet and ankles. They slithered against him like snakes, unseen beneath the downpour that came heavy and pelted his armor.

When Taregh saw the arc of Howling Death his instinct was to shift his weight back onto his right foot to use as a pivot point. He'd sweep his left side backwards, like he was opening a door and afford himself the angle needed to left his Greatsaber block in a tight arc. It would have been easy were it not for the elements working against him.

Pivoting wasn't hard but the flux of the ground, the heavy downpour and slithering roots all made for dangerous terrain.

As his left side came back Taregh lost his footing while he made the block in what was a less than perfect execution of the maneuver.

He'd fall.

Crashing down hard into the water that continued pelting him from above, he felt the roots beginning to respond and snare him, writhing against him and over his limbs as though they were attempting to drag him down into the earth.

The Inquisitor was looking up at Gerwald Lechner from down on his back, his vision blurred from the rainfall that clouded his visor.

He'd raise the Greatsaber, arcing it horizontal to catch the fall of Howling Death if it came seeking to take advantage of his prone position.

Then it happened, an eruption. An explosion.

Releasing his focus on the force he'd let saturate his body Taregh would act as the epicenter for an enormous kinetic explosion that drove outwards in all directions. It would flatten the earth at his back, it would tear up and rip apart the roots in their vicinity, it would stop the downpour momentarily as it pressed it away leaving it to resume thereafter.

If Gerwald was caught in the sudden explosive blast it seemed likely that it had the force to carry him off his feet and hurl him away, leaving the Inquisitor enough time to regain his footing.

Nearby the Purge Troopers attention was likewise drawn towards the combat. The Drake had disappeared skyward into cloud cover. Several took grenades from their person, activating them and throwing them into the foliage of the treeline before a distinctive 'pop' was heard and smoke began billowing out.

Smoke Grenades, not terribly effective in a torrential downpour which is why they'd been thrown under cover. The Purge Troopers that remained could fall back under cover of smoke and the foliage to make it more difficult for the Drake to spoke them.