Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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There's no place like Home | CIS Dominion of Orcus (T, 53)

It was fortunate that his face plate was reflective, which hid his reaction from [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] when she countermanded his order. His hand curled by instinct, almost reaching to the Dark Side and did something he would regret. He took a deep breath and released it slowly before nodding his head, “Only necessary deaths, Night Mother.”

Daxton had a way of redefining what was necessary should the opportunity present itself. These primitives will learn the price of earning Daxton’s ire.
 
Location: Fighting sexy woman Maple
Equipment: Armor - Looks like - Lightsaber Yari - Pistol
Objective: Pacify the Orcani
Allies: Currently with [member="Maple Harte"], people somewhere else, [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"],
Post: 4


Kurenai raised the back Beskar coated length of her Yari as another native brought it's axe down, herself letting the make the weapons spin around in her hand, smacking into another attacker before she drove the humming blade into the chest of the initial hitter. It was sort of a Shi'choo version of Sojutu, where you flowed with the enemies attacks, using there powerful strikes against them, deliberately giving way in some area's while parrying other times. It was almost fun to see the native fighters come down with a powerful attack, to only over extend when Kureani deliberately buckled under the weight, followed swiftly with a quick stab to their vital area's.

SO far things had been going well, Maple suddenly becoming quite skilled at killing... a little too skilled... almost like she was a different person all together, it was strange and part of Kurenai's kind pushed her to keep an eye on the young woman. Unfortunately such was rather had with the pressing attack of wild warriors swinging at her, but even so she would dart an eye back to the brunette when ever she got the chance. Was she expecting the woman to back stab her? no not really but if experience had taught her anything force users suddenly becoming much skilled mid battle usually had something to do with possession on some way, similar to Srina Talon during the invasion of Tatooine.

In time the battle started to wind down, Kurenai limboing to doge a blow from one more enemy, coming back up with a small force push to deliver a skull shattering head butt knocking the last immediate opponent out. Standing back up Kurenai cracked her head, giving the look of someone who had just finished a routine work out, not a 'to the dead' 40 on 1 fight, though skill keeping her weapon in hand. "That was certainly fun, so how many did you manage to take out M- woah", Kurenai let out in shock at the sudden attack. Maples weapons catching her across the abdomen as she attempted to doge, slicing into her combat armor, nipping at the flesh underneath.

The sudden attack had been very surprising, but in a slip second Kurenai once again assumed a battle stern face,"so you did change, I should have known, but if it is a fight you want I will accept. Planting her right foot into the ground, keeping her Yari in grasp in the left had to block while Kurenai quickly lashed out with a firm fast right jab, aimed just below Maples rib cage.
 
Maple, her eyes completely bloodshot, face pale and sweating from the effects of the Force Body Doashim had gifted her with, gave no cry of pain as Kurenai's jab slammed into her rib, hearing the fractured rib break fully. That was because she simply could not feel it.

Instead, the Assassin took advantage of the fact Kurenai's blow connected, seizing her arm with her free hand, trying to stop her from pulling away.

Distantly, the Assassin noted her features seemed familiar. The luxurious black hair evoked the promise of billowing against her face as they fought in the Jungle, with fire and death around them, a mist, from moisture or settling smoke had descended around them, Her handle shoto trying to inch closer to skin the color of fresh milk, only to be held back by the shaft of Kurenai's blazing orange spear.

The Assassin shifted her wait, forcing the fist that had broken not one but two ribs it turned out to the side, while she used her the handle-shoto in her cane as a sort of hook to pry the spear to the side, and instead of something fancy, the Assassin simply brought the handle shoto on a return arc, where its unorthodox angle would hopefully catch her in the shoulder, but Kurenai clearly had the muscle advantage here in spite of the fact her oppoment temporarily could not feel pain. She might be able to parry it or simply leap back if she was fast enough, but the Assassin clearly had experience using this method of killing, the strange return travel arc of her cane's handle shoto was obviously a well traveled one from years of practice.

And another thing was very clear when one looked into the Assassin's eyes, two sharp green circles narrowed to pinpoints as they stared deeply, almost knowingly into Kurenai's, though the gaze still contained hints of the wet happy chaos of the Bounty Hunter buried deep in using this power to survive.

The Assassin clearly had no idea what was going on, where she was, or who her opponent was. It was like a switch had flipped off in her head, and though the effects might soon end, someone would get hurt in the process. Maple of course, was not in control of herself, and would have been appalled at trying to kill an ally. But Maple was taking an unwilling back seat for the moment, leaving Yumi with the Woman Maple had been before the schizophrenia: Something quiet, fanatical, and devoted to killing its chosen prey, with only the barest idea of what life without assassination of Sith was like.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
There was recognition in the gaze of [member="Asher Mossa"] as the other man's eyes fell upon him. And rage. The motion of the man's jaw was a telltale sign. He continued to allow his own eyes to return back to the group. But he was fully aware of the appraising look from the armored man. During such times William prided himself in knowledge, yet in this instance he found himself lacking. A truth that annoyed him to several degrees.

As Doggo crested the top of the mountain he climbed smoothly from her back and watched as she morphed into a wampa. She at least had the sense to acknowledge his power and on without thought. Something this armored man would learn in time. No one looked at him in such a manner without paying a price, and he was oh so good at finding a suitable penance to those he judged worthy of his careful attention.

Walking casually he made his way up another slope, careful not to scuff the leather soles too much upon the stone strewn path. Three zealots leapt from their crouching positions and rushed the young man. Yet he paid them no mind as he climbed to a little ledge over looking the battle. The wampa intersected the zealots and the short lived screams ended in wet gurgles and followed by the crunching of flesh and bone as Doggo fed.

From his vantage point he watched as Asher careened into the enemy with a primal focus that was almost respect inducing. Yet the truth was William had seen warriors before, warriors who didn't allow such distraction as personal feeling to cloud their judgement. His skill was decent but his temperament was lacking, and William allowed his gaze to pass over the man with disinterest.

From where Asher had breached the summit he watched as [member="Minerva Vessia"] reached the top and began moving for the temple, obstacles having been cleared. Not seeing [member="Erin Tenel"], [member="Lady Psyona"], or [member="Rapax"] he turned bored eyes once more to the warrior. As the carnage of battle ensued he contemplated how he had earned the man's ire. His mind flashed to his new acquisition, Umai, and somehow he knew it had something to do with his new pet.

He allowed his lips to turn up into a cruel grin. Four zealots we're closing in on Asher's rear as he continued to hack and hew into the enemy. The four's anger left them open to manipulation, which the man was quite skilled at. Quickly he opened himself to the force and drove into their minds, altering their perception. Now, instead of attacking Asher who they had neared they broke into pairs and drove into the zealots themselves, seeing the faces of the Confederacy upon their comrades.

A single drop of sweat filtered from his brow as he twisted the force just a little more. When Asher would look upon the zealots assisting him he would see a facade placed upon their faces. Reflections of his own face along with his little witch, Umai, faces glowing with passion.
 
A grimace crossed his face as he felt the woman he knew as the Empress rally her strength and communicate with her allies with the intention of uniting there combined power to force the flame to their will. Withdrawing his mind within the confines of himself he, nevertheless, continued to lend his pool of reserves into the force that controlled the wave of fire into the enemy.

As the ferocious power consumed flesh and plant life alike indiscriminately, the line of enemy forces broke as the devastation rolled over them. Releasing his flow of power he lightly crouched. The flow of destruction was now redirected and it would not be detered. His hand gripped the trunk of the tree while he resurveyed the Talon siblings. They were not yet what he knew, but the path to their destinies were clear. Yet his reasons for being here did not involve them.

A momentary rush if the force refreshed his body and then he stepped from the trunk, dropping from limb from limb nimbly until finally he reached the ground with a soft impact that left a minor indention into the earth. Down in the dense forest the atrocities of war were not able to be seen, but the din of battle still reached his ears. The screams and lamentation of the fallen who were being torn from the living realm. The stain of death that echoed in the force would be easily felt by force sensitives, and he was no exception.

Quietly he slipped into the undergrowth and disappeared, the one he was seeking not present within this theatre of war.
 
Allies: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Gerwald Lechner"]

Now normally Daxton would have rushed to join the others on the frontlines, but his pride was still stinging from the dressing down from the Night Mother. Grinding his teeth, he wanted to sink his mandibles into soft flesh and taste warm hot blood, but he had his orders only Necessary Deaths.

He could not see the point of offering the primitives even a semblance of a fair fight, after all wouldn’t they actually be preserving resources by ending this as quickly as possible? So a few hundred primitives got burned, blasted or otherwise eradicated in a blink of an eye, who would shed a tear? Would they offer the Confederates the same courtesy if the situation were reversed? Probably not but still he promised only Necessary Deaths.

Daxton reached out to the Force and channeled waves of energy through the earth, causing the ground to rumble and shake, to make tall trees sway slowly back and forth, before huge geysers of earth erupted from the ground and piled on top of one another to form a crude humanoid figure. Towering over the battlefield, it opened an earthen maw and unleashed an inhuman high pitched inhuman shriek that would turn the bowels of the bravest primitive. A massive fist slammed into a small knot of savages, turning them into crimson streak on the ground, as arrows pummeled the figure to no avail. Grabbing a tree, it ripped from the roots as the figure used it like a club against any foolhardy to approach. True to his word, Daxton made sure that any savage within reach on the battlefield would find out that their deaths were necessary.....
 
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Location: The Temple
Wearing: Minerva.
Items: A lightsaber, three different minor Dathomiri potions. (Three are restoration potions) (One Dathomrir Mist Potion)
Objective: Retrieve the Orenda
Post: 3

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Up ahead her hazel orbs looked upon the scene into the temple. Just into the foyer Minerva could see a battle had begun. The defenders were surprised. No alarms were sounded yet. However the guards just beyond the great temple doors attempted to hold the breach, and give their brethren time.

[member="Asher Mossa"] with his blade held up high was ready to meet them. [member="William the Bloody"] conjured the Force to manipulate the minds of four of the defenders, who was trying to flank Ahser. The four became tools of the manipulative mind of William. They had rushed forward to fight their own coven.

Minerva did not know how far behind [member="Rapax"] , [member="Lady Psyona"], or [member="Erin Tenel"] was. What Minerva did know they needed to push through the foyer? The longer the fight stayed here, the more time the rest of the temple could be alerted.

Quickly she calculated what she should do. Asher and the four manipulated guards moved to duel five defenders. Six more defenders were quickly moving into the foyer from deeper in the temple. They were still at a good distance from the five that Asher was about to fight.

That gave room for Minerva to play without harming her coven.

Stepping through the large double doors, Minerva began to move her hands in somatic gestures as she began the spells. Dathomiri words sung began to invoke the spirits. A powerful complex spell has started to be sung.

The six defenders that were just starting to run into the foyer. The six were just warriors, simply unprepared for the spell of the Nightsister. The telekinetic whirlwind centered at their feet came to life blowing dust into the air and lifting the six into the air. Moving through the song it moved into the complex combo. The larger whirlwind divided into six portions pushing the six apart from one another, pushing them rapidly towards the back walls of the foyer. Minerva gave no mercy as her song escalated. Unseen stands of the force manipulated into telekinetic blades started to slash and rip at the six.

The telekinetic fury began to paint the foyer in blood. Pools of blood splashed upon the floor, walls, and those in a portion of the room. The brutal end was the six slamming into the walls. The sound of crunching bone and portions of the wall caving in the shape of six men filled the room.

This did take quite a bit of concentration. She was a bit vulnerable while doing this. However Minerva had two coven members in front of her and three behind her. This was a team effort, she was doing her part!
 
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Location: At Donoma Templa
Objective: Killing zealots; Boss Fight
Tags: [member="Rapax"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Minerva Vessia"] [member="William the Bloody"]
Post: Six

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Her grappling spike launcher had taken her several launches before Anastasia had finally climbed into the Temple backyard. Already, others were there, one of them using the power of telekinesis to dispose of the six in the foyer. Anastasia reached for Ragnos and ignited it as she passed through. Nothing in this temple called her per say, she was Doashim but she was the Executor and the zealots here were sentenced because of their inability to see through the fog of the lies.

Death to the believers, she thought to herself as she marched inside, the foyer leading into a wide hallway. Her feet took her to the left without thinking, her fingers wrapping a little tighter against the hilt of her weapon. She could feel signatures fast approaching as she spotted the corner ahead. Her feet spread against the floor, lowering her upper body in the process as she readied her saber for the first of them with her body's strength amplified. Anastasia would be unmovable in this state, the first of them running into the blade which went through his mid section with ease, giving him barely a chance to respond before he was dead.

Another screamed something unrecognizable as Anastasia drew her legs back and came to her full height, rising her weapon just before she would raise her sword. It would be a mistake. The material of the bread was not strong enough to stand against the lightsaber. The first strike had damaged it already, the beam severing its edge before the woman and struck again, this time finding Anastasia's blade with more force, causing her sword to break. Their hands shot up at the same time, palms facing each other with each of them attempting to push the other away. The powers met and held against each out for a moment before Anastasia would swing her blade and cut the woman at the side. The Shamani winced at the impact of the weapon before Anastasia spun and kicked her in the abdomen, pushing her back.

With the woman on the floor, the Executor walked towards her. There is only death, she thought just as she felt another running her way, her blade meeting to meet his. His weapon was still weaker than hers but he strength was greater, making them stay side by side as the saber burned through the metal. Reaching out with her mind, it latched on to his neck and squeezed, choking the man. His pressure on her lessened as he began to suffocate and continued until he would become incapable of holding the sword, Anastasia's hold on his neck continuing until he had fallen to the ground, dead.

"There is only death," Anastasia spoke up now as she continued to the injured one on the floor, ramming her saber into the woman's chest. She screamed just before life had left her, the beam leaving behind the smell of burned flesh. In a moment of quietness, she reached out to [member="Rapax"]. 'Shaman, get to the book, we'll finish them off.' They would die, there was no question in that but at the moment where none of them had come, Anastasia inhaled a deep breath to calm herself. There was still energy left in her to fight, the monster's doings through the years making her stronger than she had anticipated and yet it was her mind that required the rest, a breather.

Hiss. The sound of another lightsaber coming to life was indisputable as her head turned, seeing the glow in the darkness before the woman would walk out from within the shadows. "Sei più potenta di quantoo sembree," the woman spoke and yet those words meant nothing to Anastasia as she readied herself, spacing her feet before she'd raised the hilt, aiming the tip of the blade towards the woman. Whatever the woman had said, Anastasia planned on walking out of this alive. The stood, watching each other. The woman seemed to wait for her to be foolish and attack but she failed to comprehend that she was prepared for moments like this by an ancient spirit, gifted with the ability of patience. The Vi'dreya would not strike first, there was no logic in exposing herself to someone who felt more powerful than her.

Their stance held, eyes locked until the other woman had lost patience. She seemed more accustomed to everyone doing what she intended them to that she hadn't expected to find someone who wouldn't do her bidding, even when unspoken. And in her foolishness, she charged, making a leap halfway through. Anastasia's irises only moved as she studied her, preparing herself for where the saber would strike; and just moments before she would, she'd moved her own blade to meet the opponent's.
 
Location: Near the temple place
Equipment: Armor - Looks like - Lightsaber Yari - Pistol
Objective: Pacify the Orcani
Allies: CQCing with [member="Maple Harte"]
Post: 5


The eyes and way maple did not react to the rib cracking punch would have sent a shiver down Kurenai's spin, but she knew what was happening, this woman was no longer maple, a spirit of some, though the question remained, where had it come from? and why was it attacking her. No matter, she would just have to take Maple down in a non-lethal manner, something that proved to be easier said then done, the possessed woman quickly grappling with her attacking arm. A possessed maple began to pull her arms apart with great stress, the awkward shape of her weapon being quite difficult to work around, her eyes catching view of the cane as it came around for another attack, it's trajectory aimed towards her shoulder, or head.

'Guess I have no choice... sorry Maple, hopefully we can fix you face after this', she thought quietly, suddenly binging her head forwards towards the woman's nose, attempting a rather brutal headbutt. Would it end the fight? probably not, would it hurt? yes but it seemed that the possessed maple could not feel pain, though maybe the concussion would do something about that spirit inside. Regardless the strike coming from the side could be shrugged off if necessary, would not be the first time Kurenai had taken a saber, and though not immune to pain had leaned to ignore anything not lethal.
 
As the horde of zealots before [member="Asher Mossa"] fell from his wrathful hand with the assistance of the four beings controlled by William, the enemy died in a scene of blood and gore. Once there were no more standing near Asher, William smirked upon his perch as he manipulated the force. The two pairs of zealots wearing [member="Umai"]'s and William's faces turned to look at the fur armored man. Slowly both Umai's knelt and the figures of William grinned as they drove their blades into the kneeling zealots wearing the facade of Umai. But just as the curved blades bit into the throats of their brethren, slicing through tendon, sinew, and bone, the faces of the Williams laughed as they contorted to the blood stained visage of Asher himself.

Still wearing the veneer of the Mossa, the zealots turned their weapons upon themselves, driving blades into their chests and piercing their own hearts.

Releasing the hold on the force he turned his back on the scene, contempt for a lesser plaything clearly etched upon his movement as he moved toward the doors where [member="Minerva Vessia"] was currently engaging the enemy with extreme prejudice and an impressive sow of skill. He paused as he observed her violence, the power coming from her young form eliciting a cold expression of appraisal.

Turning he made his way to the stairwell and began to leisurely climb the steps, the din of battle coming from another theatre where [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] was engrossed in warfare. Yet he continued climbing following the faint source of power reverberating from the tome.

He paused as suddenly four zealots leapt down the stairs landing before him menacingly. Chuckling he turned his head a mere moment before the glass if the window shattered, raining shards of glass and the massive wampa form of Doggo who careened into the four figures, tearing and ripping their bodies.

Undetered he passed the scene of carnage and made his way to the top of the stairs. At the end of the hall, guarding an arched doorway stood two massive guards brandishing wicked swords and wearing massively thick armor. With a roar they charged the young man. William waved his hand nonchalantly, using the force to sever their phrenic nerves which caused them to collapse under a paralysis that would lead to a frightening death. A motion that required a minimum effort on his part.

Pushing the doors open he looked upon a raised dais where an ancient book rested.

(Post 5)
[member="Rapax"]
 
Asher had made one mistake in his frustration. He did not check his flank. There were four zealot warriors that were ready to attack when suddenly they rushed toward the ones ahead of him and killed them all. Someone was manipulating them. There was only one among them that he knew took pleasure in such games, and it was only confirmed as two of them turned to bear the reflection of [member="William the Bloody"] and @Umai. It was the following scene which should have made Asher upset, but instead it only made him understand the man even more.

William had to be in control. What William did not know as of yet was the bond Lylek had created between Asher and Umai. It had been a complete accident, part of a wound inflicted by the beast the spirit had sent them to kill. The night had morphed into Umai's claiming by the Lylek Spirit, but the bond the two Mandragora had forged in battle had been made permanent by their shared blood which sent them to the Spirit Realm together. All Asher had to do was open his thoughts and what he was seeing to Umai... and she would know. She already knew her relationship with the man was dangerous, and that is what drew her to him. Asher knew it, and could do nothing.

William also miscalculated the affection Asher had for the woman. While they shared a bond, Asher was such a calloused man when it came to love, that scene did not impact Asher in a devastating way. It was simply the act of a man who had no sanctity for life of any kind. He was exactly the opposite of who Asher was. That is why when Asher's blade ran through the two zealots that wore William's face the rage was replaced with pity. Pity is all William would get from Asher now because the man would never know the joys that simply living could bring. A man who had to control, who cared so little for life, could never feel fulfilled. Like a leech the man would never be satisfied.

With the deed done, Asher rushed to join [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] and [member="Minerva Vessia"] as they continued to deal with the remaining Zealots. Soon it would be over. The tome would be in the hands of [member="Rapax"], and they could all leave. Asher had a sudden need to see [member="Eirene"] again, and thought a trip to Relovian might be in order, even if he could only see her from afar. He would also find a moment to see Umai. She had to know... she just had to know...
 
The Assassin, as she saw the raven haired living sculpture jolt her head forward, she noted the magnificent reflexes it took to dodge the travel arc of her blade, and the Assassin could only turn her head a little to avoid having her nose smashed in, though the headbutt still caught her hard on the cheek and parts of her jaw. Though she felt no pain the world did dim a bit, and she suddenly felt unbalanced. She stumbled back, almost collapsed, the war cry of an Orcani armed with a vibrosword made her turn around awkwardly just in time to block a vertical blow, hook-pull it to the side and literally jump onto him bodily, her knee being driven into his throat as he fell backward, breaking the neck on impact with the dirt, and standing up into a forward flip in one swift motion, turning back to Yumi.

She charged...her hostile had been acquired again. A shame to smash living art but, balance of the Force and all that.

As she charged, another Orcani tried to blindside her from the left, having hidden in the smoke. The Assassin, though still woozy, and getting woozier, still had enough presence of mind to dodge the heavy, driving the shoto at the bottom of her cane shaft into his neck without blinking, face expressionless, bloodshot eyes never blinking, never taking their gaze off Yumi as she got closer.

And then...it wore off. All the pain hit at once, and The Assassin vanished, followed by Maple quickly dropping to the ground, unconscious. She looked almost peaceful despite the bruises, and and her eyes, though still bloodshot, stared at [member="Kurenai Yumi"] in confused recognition before letting the silent blackness take her for a while.

OOC: Maple cannot keep force body up for long, and one of her weaknesses is she cannot take too many hits anyway. Yumi wins!
 
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Location: The Temple​
Wearing: Minerva.
Items: A lightsaber, three different minor Dathomiri potions. (Three are restoration potions) (One Dathomrir Mist Potion)​
Objective: Retrieve the Orenda​
Post: 4​
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Minerva marveled over her master piece. Releasing her spells the mangled crushed lifeless bodies hit the floor with a splat. There was bones crush and the body ripped to shreds. If anyone was going to try to indentify these corpses it was going to have been done through DNA.

Minerva casually started to make her way over to the stairs…then up. As she started to walk up she could see Anastasia carving her way through the zealots. Then Ana was down to one zealot. Just as William rushed passed, Mini gathered he was heading to the tome and not helping to finish off the last of the zealots.

“It’s over”, Minerva’s soft voice was threatening. Intentions directed to the woman were threatening Ana. It matter not how strong this woman thought she was. She was now out matched the floes she now stared. Between Mini, Ana, and Asher this woman had no chance. Minerva was about to prove it as she heard Asher foot falls come up behind her.

Through painted pastel lips Minerva began a new song. In a somatic gestured she reached out with her right hand and squeezed, the woman’s hand that was holding the saber. The sound of bone crushing echoed off the temple walls. The woman screamed in righteous anger. It was a dirty trick and Mini started to pull the crushed hand and saber a little closer to Ana. Would she strike out at the prone woman with the lightsaber?

[member="Asher Mossa"] [member="William the Bloody"] [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"] [member="Rapax"]
 
Tsaiwinokka Hoyakut.

In but the span of seconds, the agony of [member="Hadashah Vi'dreya"] was made evident. The Dark Side fell upon her mightily, feasting upon the black within as fuel for the arcane. Just as her father before her, crimson steam erupted into being upon the corpse. A broken form of Life returned to the carcass. A twitch of stiffened muscles. The crick of bones remembering how to function. Darth Metus watched with immense intrigue as the corpse rose again.

It managed to fully rise. It managed to take a daring step towards its conjurer. It...crumbled shortly thereafter. As the body slumped back upon the earth, a huff reached the Sith's ears. His gaze shifted, returning to his child who looked to him for approval.

Such was the nature of fatherhood, was it not?

"Well. Chit." he breathed, shaking his head. "Yours lasted longer than my first attempt. Well done. Well done." In tandem with his words were the beginnings of a smile. Hadashah had more than exceeded her father's expectations. Reaching, he plucked the canteen from his utility belt and offered it to the young woman.

"You must be brimming with questions. Here. Refresh yourself and tell me your thoughts of this experience. How does it feel to be mighty?"
 
Objective: Hunt some treasure, dig some graves, befriend some skeletons
Location: Helewaut
Equipment: Lightsaber, robes, staff, and dagger
Allies: That one never gets old
Post: 2

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With only a couple handfuls of jewelry that she had either worn or stuffed in a bag, Fawn laid strewn about the graves with skeletons and decaying bodies surrounding her. She had grown bored, of all things, and yet she hadn't become the slightest bit uneasy by the copious amounts of death all around. They merely seemed like vessels, once-things, not a trace of discomfort to be had from them. They may as well have been broken droids.

Fawn sat up, looking to the nearest cadaver to her with a curious expression.

Droids merely required the right engineer to get working again. As long as it had a form and some of what made it work previously, an echo of what it once was, then it could be put to use. Why not a corpse? The echo remained clinging to the bones, the framework was there, all that was needed was the right engineer.

She leaned forward, a chant escaping her lips in whisper as she held the head of her staff over the corpse. It hadn't been long ago that she performed a ritual on a Sith Knight that left her without the energy to pick herself up, but there was something addictive to it. She was capable of changing things, bending them to her will, and that power was enticing to her, more than even the most powerful Sith spellcasting.

When she opened her once again, the corpse, with its flesh still dangling from its bones, had stood on its own, staring into nothing with its empty sockets that subtly glowed with a violet hue. Cracks in the skin and bone revealed more of the violet magicks that were then taking control of it, like veins erupting with light.

"You're a sorry sight," she said to it as she stood up herself, encircling it with intense examination. "Would you like a brother? Perhaps a sister? If you're lucky, maybe I can give you an entire extended family. But first..." She pointed to her left. "Walk to that tree."

With a devious grin, she watched as the corpse puppet did as it was asked, hobbling gracelessly to where it was ordered. For a moment, she asked herself why she had never done this before, but the question was drowned out by the elation she felt at imagining the possibilities.

"Congratulations, Rotkark!" she announced. "You've officially been promoted to Right Hand. Celebrations can be held once our new home is built. Don't worry, I'll be sure to invite all of our friends here once I turn them. We'll be sure to raise hell."
 
Location: Near the temple place
Equipment: Armor - Looks like - Lightsaber Yari - Pistol
Objective: Bite Maple
Allies: [member="Maple Harte"]

Post: 6

Kurenai reeled back as soon as the headbutt connected, not as plan but it was better then nothing, herself ready to counter another possible attack this time prepared and in a defensive posture. Such would not come as the remaining natives tried to capitulate on the possessed woman during the scuffle, Maple quickly deviling a neck shattering blow, still concentrated on the vampire, or it seemed who ever was closer at the time, unbiased rage and agro.

Relaxing her stance Kurenai sheathed her weapon, able to see the small slip ups in the woman's form as another Orican attempted on last attack, what ever spell of power controlling the woman's body lingering away bit by bit. Suddenly the woman stopped falling over like then had been tazed with a strong electrical force, but through the whole event Maples eyes just lingering there, never moving from Kurenai's body.

"You are going to be trouble if that happens again, regardless if allies are around or not", she mused to herself, kneeling down next to the knocked out woman. It seemed that all the injuries had suddenly become apparent, most likely overwhelming her never system, but more then that Kurenai's headbutt left a rather nasty bruise on the woman's eye, "best we fix that up before returning back, could cause problems".

Leaning down Kurenai bore her fangs, inching closer to the woman's neck, the sharp prong penetrating the skin with ease, followed shortly but what some would say and odd gesture. Concentrating on Maple Kurenai slowly injected energy into her body, an electrical like sensation of bliss and rejuvenation would flow though her body, any wounds beginning to heal up quickly.
 
Location: The fighting that was happening around Katrine.
Wearing: Boots, Cape
Wielding: 12 Czerka Knives, 5 Glitter Bullets
Objective: Win the wager, it's time to make Gerwald clean my ship!
Tags: [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Kurenai Yumi"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Gerwald Lechner"] [member="Var Talon"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
Post: 4

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It was a dance. Scherezade moved gracefully on the field, limbs continuing in fluid motions as she twirled, jumped, and orchestrated her knives, sending them into the hearts and necks and spleens of her enemies. And Force, there were so many of them here. Everything became a blur as she lost herself to the moment, her mind shutting off, her body knowing what to do. This was bliss. This was her zen. This was perfection. This was-

Well, this was stupid.

She hadn't seen it coming because she was so busy having fun and killing people, losing count of the number of bodies she added to her side of things. She'd made a mental note not a second before that to tell Gerwald she had a thousand so she was the clear winner. Which, come to think of it, had been her only thought while she danced the dance of Kill Everyone. And thoughts... Were a distraction.

These barbaric poofaces fought with spears. Spears could be tossed. A few had been tossed, but she'd dodged them all.

Except for that last one, which was now nudged uncomfortable somewhere in her right shoulder. It had magically missed her bones (or so she thought, she hadn't actually heard a crunch sound at any point), but it was hurting like a banthafrakker, and that was unfair, because the adrenaline was supposed to make her not feel it for at least... Wait, did that mean she'd been hurt earlier and had just not noticed it?

Her knives fell to the ground and her mouth ran dry (which was good! No lung punctured!), and her knees buckled beneath her. Two of those idiotic barbaric stepped in front of her, one using his knife to stab her in the gut. The pointy end came out of her back. She screamed. It wasn't a pretty sight, unless you dislike her and enjoy seeing her suffer. The second barbarian was preparing to slice her head off when something happened.

Scherezade didn't really know what was going on. There was a flare of the Force, and she guessed Katrine was doing her magical Mandragora things, and that something right had happened because now all these glue sniffers were chanting Da Childa, Da Childa, as if it meant something. The two in front of her included. They'd forgotten about her completely, and started bowing.

Well, it was kind of hard to turn her head around to look who they were bowing to or why, but it was still going on.

Scherezade had little else she could do but fall on her side and scream again as the pain coursed through her body. At least the first barbarian had left his sword in her gut, that at least slowed the bleeding down and increased her odds of survival.

From her place on the ground, trying very hard not to let the pain break her down completely, she began to move her eyes around wildly, hoping someone friendly and useful would com into view.
 
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

The abomination towered over the battlefield, an elemental monolith of earth and rock animated by the Force. It opened its maw and uttered another inhuman shriek before charging forward, paying no heed to those that scrambled for dear life under its heavy treads. To the primitives it was a waking nightmare coming to take their souls. Nothing they used seemed to work, not arrows, not spears. Dozens of which already coated the outer earthen shell of the beast, along shards of raw rock, pulsing mud and broken bloodied remains of those too foolish to come close.

In its core, Daxton vented his rage at any natives within striking range. No matter how much blood he spilled, it would never be enough. So he sought positions were the natives would probably shelter the infirm or the young. He would crush their past and their future as a clearl lesson to be paid for their definance.
 
Location: On the ground
Wearing: Boots, Cape
Wielding: 12 Czerka Knives, 5 Glitter Bullets
Objective: Gotta get a one liner in
Tags: Anya Malvern Kurenai Yumi Daxton Bane Gerwald Lechner Var Talon Katrine Van-Derveld [member="Daxton Bane"]
Post: 5

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She saw [member="Daxton Bane"]. She knew it was him. She also doubted his ability to help her in his current shape.

"That's cheating," the Sithling mumbled as her vision began to darken.
 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
At this point Gerwald no longer cared about the kill count. He had watched one of the zealots throw a spear and hit [member="Scherezade deWinter"] in the shoulder. It elicited an immediate response. Gerwarld ran at the man, shifting into his wolf form, which consequently tore his clothing again. The longer he stayed around [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] and Scherezade, the more he was coming to terms with the normalcy of nudity, mainly because he kept changing without any thought to it.

As paws hit the ground, the wolf kept racing toward the offender. Pouncing on the man, Gerwald ripped his throat open before looking off to the others which ran away from the wolf. It seemed that something was happening in the direction of the Nightmother, and they were going to see what was happening. He couldn't heal her, but Gerwald knew he could get the girl back to the ship and into a bacta tank. Time was of the essence.

He shifted back to his human form so he could lift Scherezade and carry her back to the ship. If anyone was paying attention they would be greeted with the sight of a naked man carrying the girl back to the ship. Ger smirked at the thought. He would not have been comfortable with this a week ago, but now he had no issue. Gerwald had embraced who he was and what came as a result of that. He was as free as the wolf.

"Let's get you in a bacta tank..."
 

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