Invasion &nbsp; Thou Shall Not Suffer an Empire to Live | AoC invasion of CIS-held Siskeen &amp; Ryloth

Raven Thystle Corius Harckon

Scherezade deWinter | Dimitri Lindzinsky | Lash |

Bella | Strider Garon |

Oceiros Sunstrider
Engaging:

Bella
Post Count: V

The messages broadcasted over the net seemed to get more tense for every minute that passed by. The unidentified fleet strictly rejected their offer to aid them, and what followed was concealed threats and ultimatums. Their wish had to be respected though, and the rules of war were to be followed.

The rescue party with the medical and general transports made a halt, along with Horizon Squadron protecting them and observing from a distance how the unidentified fleet tended to their own. Their decision to reject the offer bothered Foster, it was understandable that they prefered to take care of their own but at the same time it felt like a sign that something wasn't right, that this was not the end of it.

Kathryn and Jansen exchanged glances through the canopy between each of their Starbirds. They were thinking the same thing of this all.

And they were going to be right about it.

"All fighters, all ships, activate sensor scramblers, ordinance jammers. Prepare countermeasures. Gods be with us all, Ryloth stands." came the orders from the Sapphiric Scorn, soon after the unidentified fleet had showed their true intentions.

''Medical and general transports, assume defensive positions behind the main fleet! It's going to get hot out here!'' she called over to the rescue transports, while with a swift and nimble hand reactivating the targeting computer again along with activating the Jotun Defensive System.

Damn! I knew it!

Her hopes were that this disagreement could have been solved the less violent way. After all, this was not the First Order or the Sith Empire but seemed rather to be a bunch of ordinary individuals that could as well have been their brothers or sisters. Politics in its worst form. War was war.

''Horizon Squadron, on me! Horizon 9, 10, 11 and 12 - guide the transports back to the main fleet, then rendezvous with us - go!''

The twelve Starbirds assumed three finger-four formations and pulled away with haste, the first and second formation made for the enemy fighters (

Bella ) while the third formation made sure the transports made it safely to a backposition behind the Sapphiric Scorn and the other battleships. Shields up and ordnance jammer activated, they were ready for battle.

''Fleet command - Horizon Leader, the enemy fighters are picking off Vulture droids fast! Horizon Squadron is engaging!'' she reported in on the command channel. Being in charge of the starfighter elements were something she were beginning to grow accustomed to. Even if it demanded her to split her focus, it was fairly easy thanks to the droid fighters independent and sophisticated droidbrains.

Lesya Kosarev · May 31, 2020

Location: Siskeen Conference

Wearing: [X] (Minus Hood)

Allies:

Derek Dib

Faye Malvern

Luca Donskoi

John Locke

AoC:

Annasari

Enlil

Gabriel Volturi

Alwine Daye

Objective: Protect the Exarch

Equipment: Lesya Kosarevs Plasma Cannon (Concealed)

Contrary to what she may project Lesya had listened to everything that was said paying careful attention to every twist and turn in the deliberations, when at once

Derek Dib finally late out the masterful stroke of his plan even she had to crack a smile at his play. Had she seen it coming? No, she was sure one of two things was two happen Siskeen would leave or Siskeen would stay. The power play here, the play she had not seen was to entrap the leadership of the Agents of Chaos, a bold move and worthy of respect. But at the same time, this move now put everyone in the room at grave danger and it would be at this juncture she was on high alert she moved to the side of the Exarch at once and folded her arms behind her back as she watched.

Of course, the Agents of Chaos would not come quietly, they were indeed terrorists who would stop at nothing to carry out their goals not only for Siskeen but for every Confederate world to end up like Ryloth, scarred bloody and with untold numbers dead in her streets in a senseless battle to free worlds from slavery and oppression when there was none. Then came the fatal move of the Agents specifically

Gabriel Volturi who in grand fashion at once assaulted everyone in the room. Lesya quickly stepped in front of John the flames would do little harm to her as her body was primarily made from phrik, the synthetic skin might burn away but she had nothing to fear from the flames

John Locke himself did not have that assurance.

As quickly as the flames had started

Derek Dib had flipped the table to shield the delegates before taking control of the fire and launching it at the ship outside, she hesitated only a moment when

Daegon Corvinus called out to her, leaping over the table, she rushed toward the ramp of the ship at inhuman speed, it was not the force that drove her but a totally machine body. As she ran she tore off her right sleeve off her arm and the main shielding around her plasma cannon began folding back while the plasma cannon itself began to charge, a soft hum would fill the chaotic room as a charge filled the air around them.

Anesia Jy'Vun · May 31, 2020

C H A O S
S M A S H

“Tremble, mortals and despair…”

Location: Ryloth | The Altar of Spirits
Objective: Destroy the Altar
Wearing: Black cloak | Phase I Haywire Armor
Weapons: Two Lightsabers | Phase I Sword of Eve | Whimsy Witch Knife
Mis Items: Empty vials of various shapes | Herbs
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters
Enemies: The Confederacy of Independent Systems | Mandragora
Tags:

Hanna |

Jai'galaar Gred | Samatharis |-|

Faye Malvern Corius Harckon

Kyyrk |

Shamira Karuto
Post: 4

The display of power, the theatrics of it- shock and awe. Dark brows lifted only slightly and no words left her. There was no reason to react to the wasting of energy upon arrival. Just as there was no reason to react to-- or to acknowledge- the dark woman between

Katrine Van-Derveld and

Madalena Antares . During the entirety of their meeting, Anesia had shown no flairs of power, nor displayed an interest in harming the Mandragora. There was only the barest hint of an emotion upon her pale face and it was in her emeralds for eyes.

Even as she rose from the grounds by the Nightmother, her stance never wavered, allowing the action. It made no difference whether her footing was upon air or stone, but she rose further. Just out of physical reach of the tallest amongst them and past the ring of fire, when Katrine released her. The view, she decided, was paramount here- their smaller congregation no longer the only thing in view. That view reflected in her gaze.

Collecting. Always collecting information, knowledge. Gathering. Always gathering power.

This was a distraction, but it would prove fruitful-- the boar wolves, the fire.

Close your eyes, use The Force, whispered the velvet voice of the Master to the Agents.

Judd Hunter was of the same mind in that moment of CHAOS: to fulfil their objective. Where grenades had set and then, detonated, upon his nod of approval. The altar exploded and the targets of the ancient remains had no names when they shot airborne. Dust clouds and fire gave her the cover- though, even now, Anesia went unnoticed without camouflage-- and her power reached, the many facets of the force manifesting as hands to grip and propel the stones of many sizes and shapes at their enemies that became targets. Some as large as boulders, others scant as pebbles, and everything in between.

What was left of the altar they sought to protect was being used to assault them and the dust clouds from their destruction perhaps proving it hard to see clearly...as clearly as one could with the unexpected. Wind from the oncoming storms appeared to amplify the modest foray. It whipped and groaned, even as the ground trembled beneath their feet. The velocity dampened the fire and then, caused it to expand and flourish to new heights.

Now, she smiled.

The heat pulsed and the smoke clawed for the sky.

To relive terror was no small thing. To call upon the dead, those dead in the midst of war... They died as slaves and surrendered to a permanent, peaceful freedom-the singular time they had ever tasted it- only to be forced to chains once more as foot soldiers of the Confederacy.

This act solidified the Agents of Chaos' actions. The Confederacy of Independent Systems did not want PEACE and FREEDOM- not in the veritable sense that defined the words- but, demanded the CONTROL of who had it and when, how much.

There was a freedom, yes. A freedom to terrorize the people they swore to protect, a freedom to use those innocents as a shield. For what? To keep them from true liberation. They could use the media- in fact, they had- to control and paint themselves as protectors of the planet, innocent in the eyes of the viewers. To control the mass of Rylothians though... and what they were experiencing in their time of need: betrayal? That was not so easily painted over. One would imagine, even if The Confederacy held the planet, a civil war would not be far fetched.

The souls of the dead and the alive would be in a state of unrest.

Were they so deft to the cries? To the fear? To the blood spattered faces? Alas, this was not the first time the leadership failed the people, if only to keep their seat of power, their control- and history oft repeated itself.

"DOOM has come to this world."

Alwine Daye · May 31, 2020

Location: Derek Dib's Palace, Olanet, Siskeen System
Wearing: Armor | Lupine Blood Stone
Wielding: WindWhisper | generic walking cane
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters |

Derek Dib

Enlil

Gabriel Volturi

Annasari Holly Starstorm

Larentia

Izwi Kutaurira

The Red of Sinner + Open
Enemies: The Confederacy |

John Locke

Raven Thystle

Luca Donskoi

Alwine tightened her jaw.

Visanj T'shkali had somehow transformed into a Mean Girls holofilm character and tried to suggest that it was okay to kill slaves,

John Locke lied a little bit more. Someone said something about speaking against what happened on Ryloth, yet not one of them found it within themselves to say a thing about refugees that had just been murdered, and

Luca Donskoi was under the impression that by the time he spoke, people would still be listening.

Seraphina Corvinus tried to claim that Dib would keep them safe, completely ignoring the fact that what he had done marked him as completely unsafe. Not just to the Agents, but to the Confederacy as well, though they would never admit that.

Understanding

Gabriel Volturi 's nod, she nodded back. There would be no more time for words. The galaxy would learn of the Confederacy's lies. Ther insistence on blaming them for the biodome was beyond ridiculous - if the Agents of Chaos had been behind it, they were more likely to take selfies while things were exploding and burning around them, not put the fight in the hands of people who weren't part of the Agents of Chaos themselves. But they had never cared for the truth, had only set down demands that revealed their hypocrisy. And she would no longer waste words on them.

She was not the strongest Force User in the camp, but what she knew how to do, she did very well. Fire had been her element, and though she was utterly chit at conjuring it from nothing, she could do more than a touch of damage once it was already present. The Force crackled around her and she looked to the forest set by

Gabriel Volturi , tossing her crane away so that she could raise her hands, increasing the ferocity and heat of his flames. Licks of flame, bigger than a Hutt's face, formed at the top of the flames, and she sent them flying into the direction of every guard still present that she could see.

People were already moving towards the window.

"Come with us," Alwine turned to

Enlil , noticing behind his shoulder, the small number of weapons that he had earlier collected and left by the door. One hand lowered and she called her WindWhisper to her, converting it to its pistol.

"The Confederacy kills millions of refugees, and Derek Dib has gambled with the lives of the people of Sikeen," she said, and raised her hand. The table would not save him.

He could have been their great ally, the one to make the first dent, to lead other planets into true freedom. He could have not set up the entire meeting at all, knowing that the moment would be used to attack Ryloth. He had instead manipulated them, though the Confederacy was too full of itself to believe that there would be people unhappy with its tyranny. He could have simply apologized, and let them go. Instead, he did none of that. He gambled with the lives of his people and now they would suffer.

But they would suffer without him.

Alwine breathed a single breath, and as

Derek Dib , for that split of a moment, was uncovered by the barrier, or the fire, or the Knights of Aegis, Alwine pulled the trigger, landing the bullet right between his eyes.

They didn't have to wait for the body to fall to the floor. Alwine turned around, urging everyone to make the leap through the window. She herself jumped, her body screaming as the pain ravaged through her, but she choked it aside. A few more steps, just a little bit more, and she would be on the ship, where the supplies she needed had been placed in advance.

Unless any chose to remain in the room, they were now outside, and

Daegon Corvinus and

Lesya Kosarev were the only ones standing between their group and the ship itself now.

Alwine didn't wait. "Keep running!" she shouted towards the Agents of Chaos, her pistol now shooting the remaining six bullets at @Daegon Cornivus himself. They would slam into him as a group if that was what was necessary. Most of them were Force Users with strength to varying degrees. If he wanted his hair burned so bad that he'd need a wig, he was welcome to it. But they would not remain on Olanet for a moment longer than they absolutely had to. And they would be making their exit like a wrecking ball if that was what it took.

Luna Vega · May 31, 2020

Location: Ryloth | Vureshakkairn Castle
Objective: Chaos Smash | Call of the Wild | Stay Alive!
Attire: Phase I Haywire Armor + Vest + (3) Flasks
Weapons: Machete + (2) Whimsy knives + Several small blades + (2) G47 "Pipsqeak" blasters
Allies: AoC + Churi + Creatures of Ryloth
Enemies: CIS + Anyone in her way
Tags:

Scherezade deWinter +

Lirka Ka +

Millu Lee +

Alluria Ivalice +

Sabine Delacroix +

Zlova Rue
Post: 5

Bloody seven hells.

CHAOS.

With the calm that coaxed the pirate sensitive, fear still knocked- banged. Rattled its cage. Her ears pounded with it. Sweat dotted her brow and streamed down her back until her underclothes clung to her. Inked-gloved fingers wrapped about the prized machete strapped to her back. This one had not wanted violence and her chest ached that it had come to that. Or that it would. They were surrounded by Confederate lackeys.

Communication erupted and it was as if she was hearing the device for the first time. Emotions flitted over her features and her eyes came to narrow, struggling with information. Not Javi...not Jessie...the children. Her friends, those she had come to know. Vega had been a refugee earlier in her life. They had shared that pain, that terror, that FEAR. Those wounds clearly had not healed and if they had, the assault on the Scintilla ripped them wide open.

Luna was holding back, keeping that unchecked power at bay when the cries entered her mind abrubtly. The screams. Then, they were gone. When silence rang loud and her own tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. She hadn't expect the mental inquisition, sober as she was now.

"Murda'aars," she said quietly at first, free hand gripping Saava's armored neck. Luna urged the bird forward even as her own heart thundered. The Queen Churi seemed to sqwak in answer and then, as if a door had opened-- she understood. Finally understood the creature completely...fully. And she was not afraid.

You have the gift that so little have, Saava explained, Use it.

Where terror once dwelt- the place she once saught to drown- Luna reached, focused on it until it was only that and the Force enveloped her with no resistance on her part. In that moment, Vega called to nature, the creatures of Ryloth's dark and light wild, to the nearby Churi. She would plead, she would beg for their assistance so that they would not suffer as the refugees did.

Help me.

Help us.

Help Ryloth.

The birds that were called and already in close proximity answered, their large feathered frames moving to put more distance between the Agents and the Confederates. Those gray eyes had gone slightly wild.

"MURDA'AAARS!" The voice of Luna Vega had never been so loud.

Draconis Sederius Wolf · May 31, 2020

Location: Capital Bio Dome
Objective: PROTECT THE CIVILIANS!
Allies: Ryk Gaelir

Luna Terrik

Rann Thress
Enemies: AoC and Affiliates
Gear:

Confederate Battle Armor (Overlay/Underlay), M-47C, 600 AP and AS rounds, 3 frag grenades, 3 Ion grenades, 3 Concussion grenades, 3 Flashbangs, L-7 service pistol, 60 rounds for L-7, and 3 breaching charges

Theme: We're on the goal line in overtime, we cannot falter now

Throughout the city, men and women of the SLDF continued to push through and fight against the clock. Their courage was unfallible and where strength failed, determination and sheer will would prevail as each man and woman in the SLDF would push themselves beyond the simple limitations of the living. They were fighting as hard as they possibly could, and with each recovery of a civilian, twi'lek or otherwise, hope would grow. And while the terror of what CIS had just unleashed on the planet unfolded with the manifesting of all the planet's pain and suffering, the men and women of the SLDF wouldn't feel any fear. Because their force dead gear protected them from such machinations. And so they'd offer comfort to all they found, making sure that they would feel safe despite all of the very very angry spirits that Metus had just roused. When

Luna Terrik would call on comms for statuses a myriad of responses would return, stating that while they had forces at each of the bunkers, they were evacuating as fast as they could, but not fast enough. In short they needed help, and there wasn't enough of them to go around.

They'd need a miracle.

And the engineers were running out of things to jam into their makeshift patch. Which now the heat was rising much much slower but the problem was that they wouldn't be able to dissipate it fast enough even with all they had done to try and plug the massive breach. The medics in the surgical and medical tents were running out of supplies, no longer having access to pain killers or anesthetics, instead having to resort to straight paralytics that while effective was much less desirable. As the medics arrived with a new load of casualties, including

Rann Thress , the new arrivals would be separated based on needs of care. What that meant for Rann was that the medic in charge of him would immediately cart him over to the surgical tent and a doctor would check his vitals. And needless to say they weren't great. He ordered the medic to get an IV started and to start cutting the armor off Rann. There wasn't enough time to try and save the armor instead the medic began using his vibroshears to cut through the material where he could. And where plates were in the way they would either try to pull them off or if it wasn't coming off fast enough, they'd use a torch to cut it off. There wasn't a moment to lose as they were trying to save this man's life. And once they got all of the major components loose, the combat surgeon administered the dose of Imobilin to Rann, as the paralytic would keep him from moving and dull the pain slightly. And they set to work, immediately working on the amputation by first getting Porrh Packs and sanitizing the wound with them. The acidic nature of these would be more than a bit painful, but thankfully Rann shouldn't be able to move due to the paralytic. The medic next to him would try to calm him down by telling him that he was sorry but they didn't have anything left, that they needed to act quickly if they were going to save what was left of his arm. They would then graft on the synthflesh packs to permanently stop the bleeding and close the wound, suturing it and then wrapping it with gauze. This would keep the wound sealed and prevent future infections as they moved on to the rest of him. Not seeing anything major, the doctor would give him multiple stitches to permanently close up the fragmentation wounds and then send him on his way. The medic would cart him out of the tent just as another poor sod was being wheeled in with a full leg amputation and another partial amputation on the other leg. And judging by the way he was screaming there wasn't going to be much to do to save the other leg. He would pat Rann on the face as he spoke to keep him awake and focused on him.

"Hey kid, don't you worry okay? You're gonna be fine, we got you on some fluids and we're gonna get you on one of these ships coming to get us. You hear me? We're gonna be alright, just hang in there okay?"

If Rann bothered to reach out with the force he wouldn't be able to feel anything beyond the force dead bodysuit and armor, but it wouldn't take a person with master level senses to tell that the medic wasn't concerned. That any of them were actually certain they would be okay. The medic was just trying to keep Rann calm, as he knew patients that were more calm had a much higher expectancy to survive. And because Rann had just gone through what he did, he couldn't exactly leave him to find more people to save. He had to make sure that Rann would be okay. And sure Rann was stable, but with this heat, that could change at any moment. If anything, the medic was now praying to whatever might be listening that either the ships got here faster, or that by some miracle the dome would start cooling enough that they could weather the heat storm. He would look over at Draconis and see the man struggling, trying to keep his final flex going for as long as he could, but he knew, they all knew. He was at his limit. And unless something happened to change the situation, some kind of miracle occurred to save them.

A lot of people would die, and their blood would be on the Agents' of Chaos hands.

Outside*****

The two companies of infantry pulling security were holding their ground as instructed, waiting for the calls to pack up with everyone else or that the dome was finally safe again. Fate would have it that neither had happened yet and as soldiers do, when they get bored, they started talking. A twi'lek trooper would walk over to one of the spotters of the SLDF companies and strike up a conversation.

"So, why didn't you call off the attack? The enemy decided to surrender half way through their charge and were going to try to help,"

The trooper looked over at the twi'lek and thankfully his visor was polarized so they wouldn't see the look of disbelief on his face.

"Sure they 'surrendered'. Everyone does when they finally understand that they've kicked a hornets nest and are about to die. Unlike them though we don't use civilians as a punchline to some sick joke they try to call freedom. If they realized after they decided to kick us in the junk for offering them a truce and then spit on us while we're down for even offering such a thing, that's on them. We tried to get them to work with us. We tried to get them to stop their unnecessary and needless acts of violence so we could work together. And what did they do? They attacked us. Almost twice. They tried to doom everyone inside the doom with their stupid ideologies and even dumber tactics. So while I appreciate that right before they died they figured out how absolutely stupid they were, they decided to realize that far too late. And I'm not risking our lives nor the civilians on some wild chance that those terrorists actually might, key word might, have developed a conscience. Because our job is to save lives. To protect people from animals like them,"

The soldier would settle back into his seat in the trench they occupied as he dug out a ready to eat meal and was trying to decide what to snack on and what to throw away. The twi'lek shrugged and sat next to him, looking at the stuff the meal came with and asked one thing.

"Did you get any spicy cheese with this one?"

The soldier would dig through it a little bit more and found a small packet of the liquid-ish gold and passed it to the twi'lek. At least there would be some small comforts still present. Few as they may be.

TLDR: Inside the bio-dome SLDF is still trying to recover civilians from the collapsed bunkers, but they need a lot of help.

Rann Thress has been treated by a combat surgeon and is now stable. Outside two grunts discuss the recent actions taken by them to combat Twi'lek terrorists and then share an MRE.

Madalena Antares · May 31, 2020

Location: Altar of Spirits
Objective: fite fite fite
Wearing: Armor (tinted deep red)
Wielding: Meymad | Vita Stones | Shiftglue | Whimsy Knife | Glitter Grenades
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters |

Jai'galaar Gred

Judd Hunter

Hanna

Katrine Van-Derveld

Anesia Jy'Vun Samatharis

Kyyrk

Shamira Karuto
Enemies: The Confederacy has chosen. | @ Any Confederates not busy hiding behind civilians in the biodome.

Madalena laughed as

Vytal Noctura demanded names. There had been no lies involved at any point - while Madalena avoided any attempts to seek her maternal grandmother out, she knew about one of the woman's philosophies, and it was one that she agreed with, with a full heart. Why lie, when the truth hurts so much more? There had been no lie, and there had been no lies earlier in the day either. Whether Vytal would come to see it or not, had long age ceased to be the concern of the Paladin of Chaos.

Her Dark Side Web had been halted by the newly ascended Nightmother, but it made no difference. With the appearance of the Doashim charging at her, she grinned, and released three Vita Stones to the ground. There was absolutely no reason to fear the spirits - Madalena had learned more than enough about them, and had explained to her people. The spirits' power was limited - it was why they so often sought living hosts out, to communicate with and sometimes possess. It was why different people would always give testimony to different things said by the spirits - even when sometimes, it were the same spirits being spoken about, contradicting earlier words. The fact that anyone would attempt any form of absolute truth when it came to the spirits world was laughable at best.

She heard

Jai'galaar Gred 's cries, but with

Kyyrk coming at her, there was no time to pause and check on him. Close to them,

Judd Hunter was taking care of the beasts sent by

Shamira Karuto who for some reason thought that being a nobody somehow meant she was a somebody. Explosions shook all around, and Madalena grinned. Over the rings of fire, she could se

Anesia Jy'Vun floating to the altar. Teamwork!

Taking care of Voph was next. As he jumped over her, Madalena could sense

Hanna to her side, already taking action. She herself, ducked, widening the foot of a distance into four, while she unleashed a series of Force Pushesdirectly at Voph. If he thought he was anywhere near heavy enough to splatter her, he was used to fighting smaller and lighter opponents. She, would not go down easily.

Her other hand ignited Meymad on its upper side, and only if cleared would she rise again, the flames from her lightbeams almost dripping with the desire to take life. If he somehow managed to fall on her anyway - he would find himself impaled on the beam, ready to be joined by another blade.

Elsewhere on Ryloth…

"So you guys are telling us it's a war zone, and that you're not going to let the humanitarian aid leave it with people who need to get the krak away from the war?" the pilot returned, scratching his metal head. "What sort of a shellbeh runs your stuff? No no, we're coming to help, you can scan us and see there are no weapons on board, and then we take people to safety. Don't let Ryloth become HOPE."

And with that final message, all three groups at last broke through orbit, and separated, each headed for their destination. If the Confederacy wanted to shoot them… It would be a true shame.

Vytal Noctura · May 31, 2020

F A M I LY . I S . M O R E . T H A N . B L O O D

Equipment: Nightmother's Ward Lightsaber; Blood of Dathomir Armor; Pouch of 8x 0.2 oz Water of Life Potions, 3x 1 oz Water of Life Potions, 3x Raxus Relief Gas Patches, 1x Raxus Relief Gas AoE Capsule, Scroll

CIS Allied:

Shamira Karuto |

Darth Metus |

Kyyrk

AOC Allied:

Anesia Jy'Vun |

Madalena Antares | Samatharis |

Hanna |

Jai'galaar Gred

The Nightmother of the Mandragora stood between Madalena and the Altar as Voph forged ahead. This was her cross to bear, and the Lord Commander hardly seemed in the mood to hang back to defend a historical site he had no connection with. Besides, she was well acquainted with the man's combat prowess and abilities. Even a Nightsister like herself knew a far more experienced warrior than herself when she saw one; and this Nightsister had seen quite a bit of the man's storied past in person. The molecular shield and energy draining powers combined and would be flicked off to allow Voph to move on the field; the energy manifested by the Dark Side had been formidable, but as energy deniable. Hopefully Madalena would be too distracted by Voph to be given the chance to keep sending wave after wave of that power forth, however. It would be most debilitating if it took hold.

Soon the massive, plant-remade creatures of

Shamira Karuto 's design topped the mount to set loose upon those present. It was a welcome relief to see the young Sister was alive and would not be denied. Such passion did her and her fiery nature justice.

Cries of overwhelming panic and denial from

Jai'galaar Gred drew Vytal's attention just briefly. More strong emotion over events she had no knowledge of, and certainly wouldn't take the Agents of Chaos at their word. They seemed to believe it, but then they seemed to believe everything Madalena told them. Perhaps, when Vytal had been new to the Confederacy, she might have believed the woman too. Suspicious, being so new and still an outsider, but a listener. Which was more than Vytal would say for those present as they chose not to refute her statements with words, but with dismissal and violence.

Fortunately, Jai'galaar's impassioned assault came from the fore, which made it easier for the molecular shield to absorb his assault.

Whether Shamira's wall of white hot flame would deter their efforts to participate in the conflict remain to be seen, but Vytal appreciated her effort to try and control the field of battle. Perhaps all those "unnecessary" classes were useful after all, yes? Now if only the youth would stop falling asleep during History lessons.

Through that fire, however, Vytal saw the enemy's movements and the lack of them among certain members. One in particular -- the one -- caught her eye, and the travel of his own eyes as the spirits whispered in her ear one word: Danger. The pale Witch turned her body around to where the voices were loudest to find soldiers among the ruins. Had they been there the entire time? Power swelled in her and around her while a ring of sickly green mist swirled about her feet. Stop them. She had to stop them. There wasn't time to think, and she couldn't allow them to destroy the Altar. Whatever the cost!

As they sought to trigger the detonation, the Nightmother prepared to unleash her power into the surrounding area. A dangerous bid to save the site, foolish and sentimental as it might be. It was one of the duties of the Nightmother of the Mandragora -- to protect those she led, even if it was to protect an object or a monument they cherished. No one let terrorists destroy works of art, or rampage through their cities unmet. Vytal wouldn't stand by and let these particular iconoclasts and murderers do it either.

Outside of Time...
Before the power surged forth, however, before the world went black a strange sense of calm came over her. Yet, not just her. Everything and everyoone. An unnatural stillness. As though time itself had...

"You feel it, don't you?" A male's voice broke the enveloping silence that had fallen over the world. "They've come to the Altar to destroy it, they claim. Send a message, they claim." Vytal turned her head back in Madalena's direction, and then back to the Altar in search of the one that was speaking to her now. Her green eyes fell upon a familiar visage. It was a man, but it was no man. Merely the male form with a cold smile and a red hot gaze.

"Meanwhile, they bomb the Castle where all your precious 'Sisters' and 'Brothers' dwell, as they search for Raven's Point; all while they keep you here over a rock. A message? Oh, yes, I can hear it quite clearly. Don't you?" The pale figure's lips curled upward in a smile. Before Vytal could blink he'd already reappeared behind and to her left with his voice a scarce whisper in her ear, "Die."

The woman from Dathomir snapped her head to the side to gaze into the piercing, burning, blazing red eyes.

A soft chuckle fell from his lips as he saw the defiance in Vytal's emerald gaze. "You came here to defend an ancient site that embodies those you protect. She came here because she believes this site does not embody her beliefs any more. Truly a fascinating display of the Mortal capability for complete and utter nonsense. You, fighting for a rock. Her, fighting to destroy a rock. And these creatures with her... they came along for this?" Slowly, he drew his head back and turned to regard the chaos before the Altar.

Despite his back being to the Nightmother, however, she made no effort to lash out. She knew better than most the futility of it. "It's not just a rock. It's never just a rock. It's hope. It's understanding. It's who we were that led to who we are. A manifestation of our connection to a far larger world than just the one we feel, see, touch, hear, and smell." No effort was made to restrain the raw emotion in her voice. There was no one here to impress, no authority to maintain, and more often than not this entity responded best to the strength of one's convictions.

Laughter. Laughter shook the man's black-clad shoulders as he turned in place to look back upon the pale woman. "Yes. Of course. We cannot forget the Three 'Great' Spirits of Ryloth, can we? Perhaps, next, one of you can claim that Ryloth will suffer if this Altar is broken -- Ah," he held up a hand to stall any response as the man feigned hearing a distance sound "I believe I hear that now on the winds of things to come." More laughter behind closed lips and mirth that never touched his eyes. "I'm sure some believe the spirits will rebel and the Mandragora will be left ever so powerless. Or perhaps," his angular brow lifted, "they would like to see the spirits run amok. Possessing every man, woman, and child. Set the wild beasts upon them, slaughtering the people in their beds. I daresay I will enjoy the show, the conflict. And I'll be here, still watching when you all leave this place, to bear witness on the complete and utter nothing that results from all this 'hard' work, and agonizing over a symbol believed to represent which of you 'truly' speaks for anything but yourselves."

Gloating. He loved to gloat. The muscles of Vytal's jaw worked for a moment before she retorted, "Then why are you here?"

"It pleases me to do so. I care not whether the spirits are 'sad' over their precious, weathered rocks. Nor that you two delightful women call upon the same and different spirit. However... we had an arrangement, Willful Daughter, yes?" The thin, black brows steeped severaly over his red eyes once more. With a flourish, the 'man' strode over to where Katrine's still form stood. His hand swept along her side as she called out, "See, this one, she has an arrangement as well. To be possessed by spirits and fling herself about the galaxy in their name. Dark, troubled spirits. My kind of soul. Not interested in the peacekeeping mission you are, Dear. Pacification seems her thing. Did you know the Mandragora before you sought to tame the Nightlands? Make it safer. Much like your Confederacy sought to make the Brightlands safer with those domes, but with less entertainment. Perhaps... Perhaps I should extend her the same offer? After I brush the pilot fish from her, of course."

As he spoke, the Nightmother became aware that she could still feel a faint chill of the Nightlands upon her flesh. The Altar itself kept brave souls from freezing to death in the land bereft of Ryloth's sun. With everything frozen in time as it was to her, why then did she still feel the chill of the world?

Those words, however, broke Vytal from her thoughts. Extended Katrine the same offer? He couldn't be...! Her eyes narrowed for a second as their gazes met. The entity had a knowing smile. It enjoyed getting a rise out of her. "You would merely be another spirit to her. Or worse..." her tone dismissive of the threat put forth, "second fiddle to Discordia."

"Suppose you're right, but then, Willful Daughter, what am I to you?" He stepped away from Katrine and spare a look up at Anesia, a woman that sought to climb into the air and had only just begun. "You spend a great deal of time teaching your 'Sisters' and your 'Brothers' how to listen and speak to spirits. You encourage them to research and explore the mysteries of your reality and learn new abilities. You tour the worlds of the Confederacy giving lectures to mundane creatures about how the spiritual world is all around them. And you, yourself, speak to and for the masses of that realm. Where is a god in all this?"

A god that can't be bothered to lend a hand when it was needed unless or until it satisfied his designs. One that watched for its own amusement. Once more Vytal's eyes and thoughts both strayed from her uninvited guest. The man had turned her attention toward Madalena and Katrine, and beyond them the flames Shamira conjured. Flames that, if she focused closely enough, almost appeared to move...

"So you've noticed." A soft bark of a laugh followed. "I began to wonder. Time, despite initial appearances, has not been suspended merely slowed down by a great deal. Enough time for a little talk with one of my favorite Daughters. After all, so very few ever have the pleasure of my company while they still live."

Memory of a Time Years Ago...
Years before Vytal Noctura ever found the Confederacy, before she'd even left the dark embrace of her home on Dathomir, she'd unlocked something. A gateway to the Nether realm. It'd been an ancient ritual that had taken a year to perform on her own. One had to travel to different locations, perform specific rituals, and then return to the heart of the summoning circle for the final rite of passage. It had worked too. A spell a young Nightsister like herself had no business using -- with good reason. As it turned out, the Nether was a merciless land not governed by the laws of Woman. Creatures, beasts, and monsters alike prowled there and would take great pleasure in hunting and killing fresh blood, which they had not tasted in ages.

Yes, the chase had been long. How long Vytal never knew. Had time passed as quickly or slower while she was away? Had she suffered the same fate Julra Repraj had not long hence? However long it was, it felt like an eternity. Running, falling, scrambling, clawing her way across uneven, broken, and disjointed fragments of space. There was no sense of direction. No landmarks to mark how far or close you were to anything. It had been true and utter Chaos manifested in its purest form. Even her thoughts slowly became jumbled and no longer made sense as it wore on, but there was none to hear them. Madness would claim her, then the ravenous spirits eager for a vessel or a meal all their own.

Until she collapsed before two towering doors. Vytal had felt a vague recollection of what doors even were, and the battered and bloodied Nightsister forced herself forward on her belly. A shaky hand lifted to press against the doors that now stretched further than the eye could see as she lay before their base. Without managing to open them herself, the passage began to open and a brilliant, blinding darkness shone out through the widening crack as the howls of the beasts grew louder and louder in her ears.

Today, Outside of Time...
The Nightmother drew in an instinctual, though needless breath as her thoughts snapped back into the present. Had he forced her to relive that again? When there was so little time left? Perverse pleasures without end. For now, she would keep her prompts short so that they could arrive at the point of all this before it was too late. "Now?"

"Of course. After all, you're thinking of dying here, aren't you?" The man laughed once more. The little burst of power to wipe out the living Vytal had been preparing. Very naughty. "Fight to the bitter end as one of my Daughters should. Just don't forget to take all the Slag with you."

Curse his aloof and overbearing demeanor. Why could she have not been touched by the Winged Goddess instead? Much as churned her stomach and had an icy dagger stab through her heart to do it, Vytal met his eyes and beseeched him, "Help me."

"Help you? In exchange for what? Being a personal god that only your thoughts, your oaths, and your war cries speak of? I'm not a charity like these Three Spirits you and that one," a quick toss of the head indicated Katrine behind him now, "keep crowing about."

Charity. Him? What did he take her for, a fool? Vytal Noctura would never describe the Fanged God as a philanthropist. "What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted. What I asked for in exchange for your life all those years ago." Once more, the man vanished and appeared by Vytal's side. His voice a low hiss in her ear, "And now I will have it."

Now...
As time sped back up to real-time, Vytal Noctura, Nightmother of the Mandragora, stood before the Altar of Spirits with her back to the intruders. And the explosives rocked the mountain top.

A cloud of dust filled the 'circle' of the Altar making it initially impossible to see through by any normal means. Taps like hail on a Spring evening followed as small chunks of rock rained down even tens of meters from the site of the explosion. Even those with sight not of this world that peered into the shattered part of the world would not find a humanoid figure of a woman that survived the assault.

But they would find one stone that stood erected at the center of that platform.

The stones honoring Lylek, Jart, and Doashim had been destroyed as the Agents of Chaos and Katrine had demanded, but not the Altar. It was not made of indestructible rock, nor what was used to ensure it remained erect through the Modern Age imbue it with the ability to survive bombs. But stood it did.

It would only take seconds for the dust to settle as Anesia whipped up a flurry of wind, but as it did and the Altar became distinct once more, surrounded by the same ruin as before -- or perhaps less so -- there was something different about it. The clearer the air became, the more noticeable the change. It had turned solid black. Not the black of the deepest shadow, or of a starless night, but a light-devouring shade with no contours or features. Just the outline of where it should be, and the sense of those in the Force of a deep darkness. The Altar itself had been shifted from their realm into another leaving a sort of 'bookmark' in its place; it would be something akin to a skin-tight projective barrier that shielded it from physical harm.

Without preamble, an emerald lightsaber hissed into being and cut across Judd Hunter's field of view. Vytal Noctura reappeared before the one she had the greatest grievance with atop this mountain. The murderer of twelve innocent Witches. The destroyer of three honored monuments. The attempted destruction of the Altar. And the attempted murder of the Nightmother. And should the man dare meet her gaze, he would find not twin green rings that glowed with otherworldly power, but a furnace of green energy that poured through the window to her soul. Her voice reverberated as she spoke, "

Judd Hunter , pleasure to make your acquaintance. Surrender," the blade lifted a quarter inch higher, "please? I may just spare your life." No one on the mountain top had the pleasure of seeing Vytal like this before and again. It was a rare and dangerous state of being, and not one of her choosing.

There was no need to butcher Judd. After all, recent events had turned in His favor.

Doom? No. Perhaps the one thing the Galaxy feared most had come to Ryloth: POWER.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)

Oceiros Sunstrider · May 31, 2020

Location: Empty Barrens
Objectives: Ensure the death of

Adron Malvern
Tags: Darth Miseria |

Xobos Yakieer
Persona: Shuulk
Troops: 50 Twi’lek Freedom Fighters, 30 Lylek Riders
Troops Equipment: Vibroswords, Bodygloves, Sonic Blasters, ~~Mining Shields~~
~~Shuulk’s Equipment: Necrosis Edge, Bodyglove, Sonic blaster, 3 Blue Mojo Necklace~~

Snatched from the confines of the cave, forced to leave his men behind, Shuulk found himself in the grasps of one of the hellish creatures he had spotted before. One that towered over him, one that seemed to eclipse the suns of Ryloth. Its grip upon the orange-skinned humanoid greater than that of even a lylek. Air whipped about as the beast hurtled through the air at a breakneck pace. Shuulk couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the deafening wind. Pressure pulled at his face, till suddenly he came to a stop his body slammed into the ground.

On impact with the ground despite the bodyglove, Shuulk felt a certain sharp pop from both of his sides, air evacuated his lungs, and blood climbed its way out of the twi’lek’s throat to coat his teeth and lips. Teeth gritting, Shuulk gasped, his right hang shuffling around for something, anything to get him out of the situation.

Though dazed, Shuulk looked up to the new figure that stood over him. The visage of Exarch Malvern. If he could drum up the strength the twi’lek would’ve spat at the man. Instead, he was held there, the eldritch beast hovering over him. Coral eyes stared up into Adron’s as he spoke, the words perhaps would’ve hurt a lesser man, would’ve broken their ego in what could’ve been their final moments. Shuulk? He smiled.

Offering a bloodied grin to the exarch, Shuulk knew that he would be remembered. Everything had gone according to plan, the goal may have been to cleanse Ryloth, yet this day had been ruined. What mattered was the ruination of the Confederacy’s hold on the world. The doubt that had been sowed in both the populace and those who stood in the higher echelons.

Yanked into the air by the creature, Shuulk felt himself go limp in the creature’s grasp. He’d won. “Are you truly my husband?” The voice soft, feminine, comforting. A warmth washed over Shuulk in those moments as he felt the presence of his first love.

“Sheva?”

“The man I knew would’ve fought till his last breath. In the face of defeat, he would’ve given his last breath.”

Rising higher and higher into the sky, Shuulk looked over to the ghostly presence that ascended with him. The sweet, adoring look that he’d been privileged to return home to every day. He’d done this for her, for their son. “Do what you must.”

“I will.” Head-turning to the Krayt dragon, his amber eyes meeting the abyss of the creatures, Shuulk roared, his right hand seizing a small baton and activating it. Through the creature's talon a blade of energy and metal extended. The scent of scorched ozone and flesh infested Shuulk’s nostrils as the beast’s talon opened freeing him.

All around more presences rose up to Shuulk, those of the dead, those who’d died due to the Confederacy’s interventions on their world. Those who believed in the freedom of Ryloth. Those from the both recent and the far-flung past circled him. Those spoke praises. The Confederacy only knew what they’d been told about the twi’leki people. They only knew the narrative they portrayed. They’d never know the truth. The history of the twi’lek’s. How despite the political power they fought for freedom, that Shuulk and others like him would always rise.

Falling towards Ryloth the beast plummeted after Shuulk its jaws opening and snapping around the humanoids lower half. A bellow escaped both man and beast as they plunged through the air, red-coated, Shuulk’s lower half as the teeth penetrated the bodysuit. Everything from the waist down was crushed, pain welled up and consumed the freedom fighter. Adrenaline surged through his veins as in his left hand he raised a sonic pistol. His and the krayt dragon’s eyes met one last time before Shuulk fired point-blank. The eyeball exploded in a shower of viscera, the creature releasing Shuulk, as it went into free fall towards the planet.

Despite the pain, despite the atrocious state his body had been left in Shuulk laughed. His eyes set on the sun of Ryloth and its horizons. It was fitting that his final moments were of the world he loved. All around him the spirits spoke, their hands grasping him, their arms welcoming. “Are you coming home father?”

“Yes Shulvik, I’m coming home.” Closing his eyes and breathing in one last time Shuulk fell into the embrace of Ryloth.

---------------------------

Persona: Naarah

Sitting in the cockpit of the ship, Naarah watched Shuulk’s final moments. His battle against the black dragon. The violet skinned twi’lek screaming at the monitor, his fists hammering into the console. Tears leaving stains across their flesh. The man they loved, the man they idolized, gone. His life snuffed out in the fight for his people. In the fight for freedom.

Head burrowed in their hands Naarah couldn’t move, their chest rose and fell. J’onns was gone. No one could contact Jan, and now Shuulk was dead. The movement was collapsing around them. Yet she still had the tape, the orders from Shuulk. Footage of the Confederacy massacring J’onns when he’d surrendered.

Looking down at the small disk Naarah, felt a comforting hand on his shoulder but when he turned around there was nothing there. Nothing but approval and a sense of pride. “I’ll do it for you.”

Grasping the control yoke, Naarah drove it forward the engines firing off and propelling him out of the hidden crevice in the mountain. Klaxons blared as his hand danced over the control panel inputting hyperspace coordinates. The safety of the ship attempting to stop him before he overrode it. He couldn’t risk getting caught here.

Flying towards the atmosphere, Naarah grabbed a final lever shoving it forward. The ship accelerating into Hyperspace and away from Ryloth… For now.

Samatharis · May 31, 2020

Location: Ryloth - Alter of Spirits
Objective: AoC - Alter of Spirits - P4
Allies: AoC - Alter of Spirits -

Jai'galaar Gred |

Hanna |

Anesia Jy'Vun
Enemies: CIS -

Shamira Karuto |

Kyyrk
Equip: Black Stormtrooper Armor | Lightsaber | Particle Beam Carbine | 3-Day Survival Backpack | Vita Stone

Ya know. I would love to give you a summary of what was happening at the Alter of Spirits when Samatharis finally reached the summit to help her friends. But. Alas. Reasons...

Something giant had just exploded, debris was everywhere, Force Powers where being fired off like machine guns, Anesia was throwing said debris, large rocks were flying everywhere amid a gathering lightning storm in the sky, and there might even have been a shear wall of fire summoned by Shamira too. I don't know. Hard to tell. Kinda dicey right now to be honest. Um. I'll let you use your imagination.

"...Great. Gah! Flying boulder! Must dodge. Umph. Okay. Better. Now, what the frell is going on up here!?"

Samatharis kinda lost track of what she was supposed to do in that moment.

She covered her helm with one arm and tried to peer through the dust storm. Past the glowing bits, beyond the dark Alter of new weird black whatever'ness, and sort of around the fire wall of screaming piggies.

"Hey!"

She shouted at the four soldiers who had just blown up the Alter stones. They seemed rather composed.

"Hey! What the frack is going o..."

SMACK

The four surviving AoC soldiers looked baffled as they watched Samatharis get struck by a flying boulder and knocked into the air. She hit the ground with a sandy, thump. Very cool. Very not-stupid at all. Causing all four troopers to shrug, and then go back to battling the debris themselves.

Ugh. Meanwhile. Sam had to pick herself up from the ground and shake the stupid out of her.

"Oh. Ugh. Oh Gods. What the frack just hit me. Ugh. ...I think I'm gonna puke. Umph."

Also. Never puke in a vac-suit. It clogs the helm's air and sweat filter. Not pretty.

Samatharis finally stood up on quivering legs. Luckily, not puking. Just in time to see Vytal confront Judd too.

"Umph. Oh. Hey! ...Hey lady." Samatharis sort of babbled under her helm, "...You leave him alone. Umph. ...Meany."

Sam pulled out her small particle carbine and fired a, (surprisingly well aimed,) shot at Vytal.

Good. Super Distraction Shot away!

Well. Then she sort of staggered for a moment to regain her boulder-smacked senses.

Why. Oh Gods. Why did she have to pick This Objective. Ugh. Stupid Alter. Alter of stupid. Stupid flying debris and explosions and dead people-spirit-things. Oh gosh. Ya know. I might actually puke. Ugh. Fark me. I might actually puke in this helmet. Umphh. Oh Gods. Why me.

One of the four surviving AoC soldiers leapt from the dust storm and shouted at her over the din,

"Hey! Get it together trooper! Kark!"

"Hep. Coming Mom. Umphh."

Samatharis holstered her blaster and withdrew her saber hilt. Again. Struggling to make it up the shallow hillside. Okay. Now...

Battle pigs? Wall of fire? Make sweet-sweet love to the scary Alter lady? Right? Wait? Right?

What Invasion was this again?

Well. Anyway. Hopefully Judd survives.

Sam just needed a moment. Or, ya know. A century. Whatever. Force User. She'll be fine.

Probably...

Luna Terrik · May 31, 2020

D A U N T L E S S

Location: Ryloth – Survive
Wearing: Grand Marshall’s Officers Uniform, Tactical Recon Handguns (2)
Ally tags: |

Tiria Reinhart |

Damsy Callat |

Anakwor Farlorn |

The Monster |

Eva Winburn | Tegan Farron | Ryk Gaelir |

Ciri Jade |

Holt |

Tyrias Aran |

Darth Metus |

Gerwald Lechner |

John Locke |

Amelia von Sorenn |

Srina Talon |

Prennis Keeoli |

Lunara Azure |

Hanna | @dimitri lindzinksy | K Kaine Australis |

Oceiros Sunstrider | @J’onns |

Thalia Senn |

Blood loss was an interesting thing.

There were the obvious symptoms of such a thing. Weakness and fatigue, confusion, even pale skin. She had been through the basic medic training regime and approved and read through all the programs that would be used throughout basic training. While she did barely use that training out in the field anymore, the basic content was still pretty..fresh in her mind. That didn’t mean she remembered ever little detail.

Like the rapid breathing.

Or the chest pain.

Or..the anxiety.

The last of which these symptoms was overwhelming her mind while she laid pressed up against the couch. It didn’t help that she could hear the insurgents making their way to her position, ready to finish her off without her so much as getting off a few shots. Every crunch of gravel, clattering of mortar to the ground, mumbled word send a shot of unmitigated terror throughout her body. Terror. Fear. Anxiety.

Emotions that she hadn’t felt in years. Ever since some of her first battles with the Dauntless, when it was just @Allya Vi’dreya by her side. Even on Eshan, when that karkin star destroyer came crashing down on their heads as they made their way through the refugee camp, there was little fear. Having a massive ship come crashing down toward you was enough to send that through anyone. But not like now. Not like how ever send sent a shiver down her spine.

At this point, she wasn’t sure if her blasters were shaking because of the blood loss or the anxiety taking over her mind.

New sounds entered into the fray just as it sounded as though the terrorists were on the front door. A crashing speeder, blaster fire..and a lightsaber. Of course it was some upstart knight that wanted to save the Grand Marshal. It was enough to have her consider for just a moment finishing herself off before that got hung over her head for as long as she still fought. But, that was still a better choice than bleeding out on this floor. At least for the moment.

Then..whoever it was did something very different than a knight’s obsidian squire or knight. From her hiding position, she could see the flashlight sweep the room, back and forth, in a clearing motion. A motion that would have had to be engrained. Not one that was just come up with in the spur of the moment.

When that figure finally found her, the hood obscured any view of her face. That figure dropped to a knee, and the hood was removed. The sight underneath might’ve made Luna laugh, if the pain in her stomach wasn’t overwhelming in the moment.

She had gills.

Like Damsy Callet.

“Oh..I must be dead. Because I am, or whatever karking god rules this galaxy decided to play a very cruel joke on me making my rescuer look like the solider I cared more about than anyone else…what a cruel joke that would be be..” It had to be a mirage, or some other symptom of blood loss that she had forgotten about. No, this couldn’t be reality. She may be alive but..illusions..tricks were being played on her mind. Like seeing your life flash before you eyes moments before your death.

Luna grunted lightly as she moved her blasters back into their holsters, letting out a shaky and pained breath as she did so. With a hand moved to grip her rescuer’s shoulder, slowly she moved to her feet, grimace painting her face. “I..hope you have some sort…of..of transportation..I’m not..not exactly in the mood…don’t have the ability to get a far distance without..some sort..of transportation.” She could taste the blood on her tongue with each word, and each felt as though she was forcing it out.

She hoped this wasn’t how she died.

Leaning on someone that looked like the most painful loss of her lifetime.

What a cruel joke that would be.

Kyyrk · May 31, 2020

H U N T

LOCATION: Altar of Spirits
TASK: Hunt
EQUIPMENT: In Signature
CIS:

Prennis Keeoli | Corius Harckon |

Shamira Karuto
AOC:

Hanna |

Jai'galaar Gred | Samatharis |