Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

To Pass Through The Fire: Mandalorian Dominion of Dathomir

To Pass Through the Fire
Mandalorian Dominion of Dathomir
fU34hJy.jpg
“There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter
to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an enchanter, or a witch.”
Deuteronomy 18:10

tumblr_o65t5wgslQ1u9x3eso1_1280.png
The Warlock Gate. A plinth of stone writ with Dathomiri runes, which sung of Despair and those lost. A gateway to the Netherworld, too important to be left outside Mandalorian hands... brother and sister Mando’ade who fell away from the Resol’nare. Yes, Dathomir must be claimed.

Yasha saw her red cloak fluttering in the Dathomiri breeze in the shine of a landing troop carrier. It was still curious that she could not feel her cloak around her, covered as she was in the gold and black Haran Rekr Beskar’gam.

Haran Rekr. The Hell Wolf was nearly home.

It had not come to Yasha Mantis in a dream, or any such ignoble divinations to claim the Warlock Gate once again for Mandalore. Caught staring at a report on geopolitical affairs [member="Baiko no Kaho"] gave her to study, Yasha drew a circle around Dathomir with her stylus. It glowed on the data pad, yellow on black and grey.

She remembered that place. Her body and spirit remained haunted by the Gate, that horrific stone which led to her and her mother’s short-lived salvation. It started a chain reaction which led a daughter of Epicanthix immigrants to become Mando’ad.

Capture the Witches of Dathomir. Capture them all. The Witch Tribes are our sisters, and they are plagued with the disease which destroyed us. Find their slaves. No subject of the Empire may take a Mando'ade for servant or slave. Every slave must be permitted to adopt the culture of Mandalore and be freed.” Augmented by the audio outputs in her buy’ce, Yasha’s growing voice swelled into every Mandalorian’s comms as she hopped onto the top of the ship.

We shall ensure that Despair is a distant memory, and that no one falls prey to the Netherworld’s pull without cause.” Mandalore would control access to the Warlock Gate, as Mandalore controlled access to its own grief. A place of loss, how better to move the Mando’ade on from the brutality of the Civil War, than to conquer the planet of witches?

To bring lost ones home?

Seize control of the Warlock Gate, do not touch it!” As Yasha ended her transmission, she pointed down at the village which popped up around the Gate. Dathomiri Witches, their male slaves and children residing in pilgrimage to the unholy sight of the Netherworld’s galactic tether.

If you find resistance, end it.” She said, to Ambrose Vizsla, a loyal Captain of the Death Watch and his troops. He saluted and began the march.

The growing girl felt the screams begin as across the planet, Mandalorians were taking back what was theirs, whether by the hand of friendship, or the Beskad.

fU34hJy.jpg

OOC: Take control of the Warlock Gate; seize the witches of Dathomir and offer them the cure; free the Dathomiri slaves; ensure the survival of agricultural land for food.

[member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Aryn Spar"] | [member="Malika Mantis"] | [member="Kaden Mantis"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Beskadala Ordo"] | @Lisset Vereen | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Tahn Vizsla"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Kervo Namadi"] | [member="Adora Namadi"] | [member="Rhaenys Namadi"] | [member="Tal Vizsla"] | [member="Atin Alo'ran"] | [member="Listralli Namadi"] | [member="Artemis Lux"] | [member="Kad Tor"] | [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] | [member="Caius Fett"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Ra Vizsla"]
 
Location: Kryze-clan Corvette 'Silent Owl', High Orbit, Dathomir
Post: 1
Nearby: No one

"Are we ready?" Shia sounded six times her age, like a matriarch of the clan.

"Yes, Protector." Katara reported, her voice made mechanical by her beskar'gam as she stood at the side of her little sister on the bridge.

Shia sighed and leant forward on the bridge rail, watching the live feed of Yasha's announcement. She shook her head.

"We shouldn't have come back." Katara continued, speaking the unspoken words for the first time.

"We must, Mand'alor commands it, just as he commands this through his ward. So we shall obey. Until he frees me of my duties." Shia commented without emotion, watching as the first shots in another massacre were fired, this time at the command of someone below the age of adulthood. We demean our children with this stupid crusade. I could spit.

"You know how he is said to have done that to..."

"Yes, I am fully aware. Our culture has no place for heroes and Godlike figureheads, Katara. Our survival in the face of a hostile galaxy is all that matters - and this does not help it. So stop trying to talk me out of doing the only thing I can in these kriffed up circumstances and start helping me try to hold our people together while their soul rots! Are we ready?"

"Yes, Protector. Both transports and all the vod. Kryze all of them, Strix in the lead dropship."

Shia closed her eyes in pain, if only Yasha had worded her relayed instructions from the Undying one tiny bit differently, she'd have had the leeway she needed. But she didn't. Perhaps her foes would be stronger than she expected.

"Understood, commence drop."

"Oya!"

"No, we're not hunting. Hunting is honourable. Just affirmative will do, Katara."

One assault corvette and two transports swept down out of the fleet of raiding ships in the sky above Dathomir and set course towards the unsuspecting village of the Misty Falls Clan, some distance from the central dropzone. But there was only so much Shia would willingly watch, let alone partcipate in.
 

Tusk

Guest
T
Tusk's large body moved through the vines and as he moved with his squad towards a Dathomiri Witch village. He could feel it in his bones. What it was he didn't know. The group sloshed through the dim marsh, the sun's light cut off from the crisscrossing canopies. He hated Dathomir. Nothing ever seemed right on this world, what with the witches continuously fighting against each other using ancient magiks that even Shamans of the Gerosian people shied away from.

Many of the witches weren't bad people, and he didn't feel it was right to clobber their culture, but there were many witches here who kept to the old ways. Worshiped the Dark Side of the Force like some sort of god. Nightsisters they called them. He shivered at the name.

"Oi, you hear that?" A Mandalorian muttered, raising his blaster rifle quickly.

"You got your buyce on straight vod?" The group chuckled. Sometihng tickled Tusk's nose.

"Something smells," he sniffed again, "smells wrong."

"Not you to-" Vines wrapped around the Mandalorian's ankle before he could finish his sentence. He screamed, firing his blaster wildly, lighting up the swamp with blue blaster fire. "Get me down! Its in my suit! Its in my-" The vines burst from his helmet, the struggling stopped. Low groans and grunts filled the air. They were surrounded. A foul stench like death wafted over them as male humans and iridonians lumbered out of the twisted trees. They crawled up from the muck and fell from branches, their skin hanging from their limbs and gray like old clay.

"Form up!" Something did smell wrong. The Force was being twisted here.

He could feel it in his bones.
 
Preliat's hand placed itself on the shoulder of his daughter. "This is going to be difficult for you, ika." He said so reassuringly, but also matter-of-factly. He crouched next to his daughter and held his helmet in his hands.

His brown eyes met his daughter's.

"I will be with you every step of the way."

[member="Yasha Mantis"]
 

Lemon

Citrus Dreams
Koda Fett



Dathomir, Quelil Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Post: 1
After his influenced realization on the swamp world of Dagboah, Fett had decided during these times of intergalactic war he had to make a decision that involved somewhere he could truly call 'home'. That wasn't something he ever had before, but now with the Mandalorian Empire he was to at the very least try. Although as a twelve year old commanded him he felt insulted, surely there was someone more capable than her? It made him question this Empire, but it's results were all that mattered, and they were positive. Perhaps one day he could achieve a position as such within this Empire one day, after all he was already an established Bounty Hunter that was rightfully feared across the galaxy - but now he ventured alone.

The planet Dathomir was inhospitable. The dark shroud that encased the planet made visibility something of question, and the terrain itself was a struggle - not to mention the Nightsisters that had been doing their very best to fend off the attackers through their use of twisted magic. Though all that could be heard now was carnage, the screams of the dying, the chanting of the invaders; explosions, blaster fire and everything else that came with war.

Though these sounds came to him. A panicked yelp, accompanied by grunts and groans were made from not too far away. Fett began running, moving as fast as he could through the thick foliage with his carbine raised. When he came to a small circular clearing he could see a Nightsister over a wounded Mandalorian Warrior, seemingly incapacitated. Her head pivoted to meet the Bounty Hunter's visor, but as it did a searing hole formed in her face. Falling straight to the ground, dead.

With frantic breaths that began to slow the Mandalorian on the ground, who's armor was a mixture of Gold, Black and Red, spoke to Koda, "Thank you." Offering a nod, as Fett glanced about for anything else in the immediate area until he was satisfied; and then lifted up to his feet by his savior as the two offered each other a hand up. "You're that Bounty Hunter aren't you?" The other man asked inquisitively, and as a response the Bounty Hunter merely looked at him for now.
 
Atin was flying low, and flying mean "Endurance here," he called out across all channels as his pressed several buttons inside his cockpit "Found a good amount of resistance, so.... I'm going to end it." he smirked to himself as he opened a small cargo bay at the back of his Fighter, a large crate sat in the back marked "HIGHLY FLAMMABLE" he smirked as he entered a sonic boom just above the trees blowing apart limbs and knocking down loose trees and vines. His village was in his sights, his eyes narrowed as he saw various figures scrambling about, he was thankful they didn't have anything to blow him out of the sky but it didn't take long for him to swiftly pass overhead with the box being shoved out of the back of his ship by his friendly LX-Droid as the box spirals out of the back of his fast moving ship as it smashed into the ground with an explosion of fire and ash as it engulfed the village...and most of the surrounding forest "Target hit." he called out. He pulled up on his joystick the ship gaining altitude, the screaming below spoke for themselves."If you need support...call it out." he spoke over their channels. He didn't enjoy using his ship to achieve his victory, but it was a victory in the least. Mand'alor demanded it.

The Village was swiftly engulfed in flames, burning to the ground from the literal liquid flames attaching to everything that moved, If there was a population here, many of them will be ash in the end. If there was a resistance here, many of them will be ash in the end.
 
Location: Mist Falls Village
Post: 2

The first sign anything was wrong in Mist Falls Village was the warning messages from the other clans and villages - primitive the Dathomiri might wish to remain, but some common sense precautions had been learned over the centuries.

The second happened as fire engulfed another village far across the continent. The snarling scream of engines mixed with the while of repulsors and a arrowhead corvette screamed across the village at low level, deploying Mandalorian's like seeds from a pod in a ring around the villages farming perimeter. Strangely, they did not fire as they fell. Coming to rest in a perfect encirclement manuver even as the corvette wheeled around and settled in front of the village's gates, accompanied by the slower, lumbering bulk of two transports - one civilian, one an assault model that began to deploy further Mandalorians as it landed.

"Stay calm." An elderly witch said in a level voice as the younger witches scrambled to their posts alongside the clan guards. "The danger here is... muted. Do not invite trouble."

The corvette, proudly and openly displaying the ancient owl-symbol Clan Kryze had taken as it's own after the Galactic Civil War, lowered a boarding ramp down which three blue-armoured figures emerged, all of them helmetless.

One was tall, pale skinned and bald, with eyes that seemed to go through the village and into the people inside. The second was shorter, with short cropped hair and - of all things - a hunting lance as a chosen weapon. The third was approximately the size of a small barn, how they made armour to fit around his figure, no one could really say. He was also bald, but craggy with age.

The three approached the village, weapons sheathed, helmets off. At the edge of hearing distance, the central figure stepped forward and spoke.

"We, by the power of the He Who Has Returned From Death, the Mand'alor of the great Manda'yaim Empire are so commanded and do command.

It is the command of the Mand'alor, he who is Undying, that this land which was once the land of the Mando'ade be Mando'ade again. Let it be known that all persons, free or slave, witch or other, are hearby commanded to bend knee to he who is Undying and his alor, She Who Has Returned from Death, Yasha of Clan Mantis. Rejoice, for this planet is once again free of the shackles of slavery and of the Force!

Those who come, one and all, to pay homage to them and to serve him. Then He shall take note of your submission. If, however, you do not accept the Undying's order and act against our command, we shall know that you are our enemies and we shall leave none standing.

Those who are slave, you are now free. Rejoice, lay down your arms and rejoin your vod in the Mando'ade.
Those who are witch, you may submit to the treatment laid down by law, or forever be aruetii and banished from our borders."

The figure stopped and gestured to the civilian transport behind her, breaking from her protocol for a moment.

"Clan Kryze provides this vessel, you may examine it for traps, it will take you anywhere you wish, you make take all you wish with you."

Her gaze hardened and she returned to the speech.

"Those who are but vod, seeking to make their life in this hard galaxy, know that Mand'alor knows you as His and Manda'yaim recognises you as Hers. We bring what supplies we have, we ask only in return for food to feed our people, who starve at the hands of the Liberator.

Let this be our command. We await your response."

Please don't call my bluff. Shia thought silently. Because, for all that I don't want to kill you. I'm not bluffing.
 
Location: Someplace in Dathomir
Objective: #FlushTheForce
Post: 1

In his lifetime, there were many Mandalorians of Dathomirian heritage. In the past the Witches of Dathomir and the Warriors of Mandalore had a somewhat mutual relationship with each other as Dathomir was in the fold of Mandalorian Space. The great Rekalis came from Dathomir or had heritage of said culture who had helped the Mandalorians and viewed the Resol'nare as their code too; however, that was all in the past. It was a new age of every Mandalorian being stripped from the Force and applying those policies to others that live in their domain.

The Akaan was in charge of supervising a sector with warriors of his clan and from others. His orders were to not pillage and raid Witch Clans, but to simply capture them and cure them of the disease of the Force. Any resistance would be neutralized effective immediately.

"We have our orders. Do not kill unless provoked, stun them or use any other non-lethal methods.We'll transfer them to Mandalore once we've gathered them all," Vilaz said to the soldiers under his command.

Some of the witches were proving to be difficult which resulted in using force against them, but it was the best for them and for Mandalore.
 

Lemon

Citrus Dreams
Koda Fett



Dathomir, Quelil Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Post: 2
In truth Fett was never aware of how his reputation upheld in Mandalorian Space. He either figured he was a coward for not joining their cause until now, perhaps a traitor because of it; or was he a celebrated figure to a certain extent. Bringing fame to the name Fett once more as a renown Bounty Hunter across the entirety of the Galaxy. He had worked for the Galactic Empire, Sith Empire, First Order and of course the lowliest of Criminal Organisations. Becoming a feared figure within the Galactic Underworld. Maybe it was due to all this he was even allowed a position within the Mandalorian Empire, otherwise he would be another 'Dar'Manda' scumbag to the rest of these Bucketheads. Though it wasn't as if Fett had truly cared for any of that anyways, right?

"Hmph. Fett, eh? Aven't heard anyone with that name in a while..." His words trailing off into silence as the two stood in a small clearing with a dead Nightsister nearby, the fog up to their knees. Koda only offered a steely glare from behind the helmet, and even through that some emotion was given off. Enough for the other man to shudder slightly. There always was something off about Koda Fett.

The words, "Move." came out from underneath Fett's helmet as he pointed in the direction of the action with two fingers pressed against each other. He didn't like this one bit, giving commands to Soldiers was a thing of the past to himself but here he was doing it once again. Even then, taking commands from others wasn't his strong suit either.

Both of the Mandalorians moved out with a cautious and battle-ready demeanor as their weapons were raised. Nothing just yet, but with time they were sure to come across someone who would find themselves within their sights.
 
Location: Near the Warlock Gate
Objective: Verd’goten. Lead.
Posts: 2

As the Mando’ade filtered across Dathomir, the Little Rekr removed her buy’ce. She winced at the overcast sky, bright enough to leave spots of light on her retinae. Yasha’s breath staggered out of her lungs as she searched her father’s worn face. Back to the Warlock Gate. One hand pressed against cold stone was all it would take for a return to the Netherworld.

I’ll be brave...” Her nostrils flared and her upper lip pushed down the wobble in her chin. “...Daddy? It’s tugging. Like a gravity well in my side.

Yasha instinctually turned her head toward the Warlock Gate. The stitch in her side ripped across her ribcage. She could, if she were someone else’s child, wax poetic about the cost of all this, the oddity of a thirteen year old commanding soldiers, or the sensation of being half-dragged toward Hell. But she was a Mantis, and the Mantis Clan were of few words, but much action.

Mantis’. The Nightsisters in Sector Delta are resisting heavily. [member="Atin Alo'ran"] is engaging in Sector Gamma. Other Dathomiri clans are asking to leave peacefully. Confirm your orders.” Ambrose trotted back to where Yasha stood beside her crouching father. The teenager drew in one last breath, and slid her helmet on.

Cleanse the resisting Nightsisters, lethal force only if Mando'ade are in direct danger. As long as they don’t resist, let the clans who want to leave peacefully take their things and go. They’re our siblings, Ambrose. Those who want to stay will be healed of the illness, or left alone. We hold the Gate. Send reinforcements to Sector Delta. Coordinate with [member="Koda Fett"], give him command.

Ambrose saluted and rushed off. Not without mercy, the girl watched as some Dathomiri saluted and were left to their calm. Others were swept through, people captured with non-lethal Force. Yet still others were dying.

Did I say it right, [member="Kaden Mantis"]? The Mando’a words... Baiko said I had to talk better. Am I saying it right?” The girl asked, in fluent Epicant to the teenager armoured beside her.

She hopped down from the troop carrier she’d used as a scouting point and began the move toward the Gate. Intel told her many of the Dathomiri left the Warlock Gate alone, yet scans still showed pilgrims around its bitter and despairing plinth. Checking her shotgun, Yasha made for the Gate.

Dathomir was one hell of a verd’goten. "Don't touch the gate... don't ever touch the gate."

fU34hJy.jpg

Around the planet, the wildlife rose up on the heels of battle. Rancors began to churn and roar and stampede in the relative chaos. [member="Tusk"] and his troop were within earshot of a monumental roar, undergrowth and forest creaking as the sounds grew.

[member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"]
 
Kaden was with Yasha. This was one hell of a verd’goten. There was a twinge of jealousy, but what did you do for a girl that had survived the Netherworld. Kaden knew this was the best thing for her. If she led their people to victory not only would she pass, but the tales of the little rekr would be sung for years to come. She was going to be their sole ruler one day.

He watched and listened with pride. He jealousy aside, this was the girl Kaden liked. It was normal to be jealous and proud. At least Kaden told himself that.

”They are correct. You’ve studied hard,” Kaden couldn’t believe what was about to come out of his mouth, but, ”Baiko has been good to you. I’m sorry I made it difficult.”

Kaden had. Baiko hadn’t made her choose between who she was and the Mandalorian people. The young warrior had done what he had from a place of fear. Kaden didn’t want to lose her, and in a desperate attempt to keep her, Kaden had made choices which almost pushed her away. Had it not been for Baiko’s tough love, Kaden would have never seen it. He owed whatever their future would be to her.

He eyed the gate.

Yasha told him not to touch it. Kaden nodded.

”Don’t you touch it either, ner Yash’ika.”

Kaden carefully looked to [member="Preliat Mantis"]. Hopefully the man would not be upset with Kaden’s word choices.

[member="Yasha Mantis"].
 
Preliat watched, then snapped his head towards [member="Kaden Mantis"]. He only stared at him, but said nothing. The gate was calling to him. For another moment, Preliat's eyes flashed a bright blue, before he turned back to Yasha.

The gate was calling to him. His name. Screaming it. In his mind, in his ears- he could feel it on his skin, the lull, the intoxicating- Preliat blinked rapidly and took off his helmet- and fell to his knees, breathing deeply. He looked up at Yasha, gathering will and resolve to rise to a stand. He held his helmet in his hands.

"This thing- it leads to hell, doesn't it?"

Preliat stared at it. Part of him was screaming to go touch it, to embrace it- and suffer. Something was telling him to suffer. Suffer. Suffer. The word screamed in his mind over and over. He gripped his temples, before opening his eyes- they flashed blue again.

"Do what you must."

It was unclear of who Preliat was speaking to, but it seemed directed at Yasha.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] l [member="Kaden Mantis"]
 

Lemon

Citrus Dreams
Koda Fett



Sector Delta, Dathomir, Quelil Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Post: 3
The Nightsister forces in Dathomir's Sector Delta were overwhelming, the Mandalorians present did their best to defend against them and push on through the onslaught but had gradually found themselves bogged down. It was at a particularly smaller portion of the jungle's treeline that they made their stand. The bright pink plasma arrows that were fired from the Nighsister's Energy Bows had struck around them in volleys, even claiming the odd life from time to time, whilst something foreboding roared in the distance.

The Bounty Hunter momentarily tucked himself behind a dense tree as a communication hailed him; it was Ambrose on behalf of the child, "Fett. You're in command now, reinforcements are on their way." Even if he planned on replying, which he didn't, he couldn't. The line was cut. His eyes wandered beneath his helmet for a moment as thoughts of the man previously in command, but there would be no need for letting him know; he was already dead.

The casualties only seemed to increase as time carried on, and so Fett made the executive decision, "Lethal rounds." He spoke over the comms. Fett didn't speak for long, it was a trademark of his to speak briefly. Yet still he commanded respect in an authoritarian tone, his celebrity figure of sorts only allowed him to do so. The blue rings faded and were instead replaced with bolts in an assortment of colors. If not for that decision, they would've perished before the reinforcements could arrive. Now they only had to hold out until then...
 
Location: Mist Falls Village
Post: 3

Silence hung across the village like the mist that gave it its name, the roar of the falls the only noise as Shia's words echoed off the cliffs and died.

Sister looked to sister, fear and hope in their eyes. Some of the younger sisters began to mutter, forcing their way to the front ranks as if to fight. Older ones held them back.

Then a single strident voice rang out across the village.

"You call yourself Mando'ade? We are the tradition of the Mando'ade. We gave you the Force and the Spirits. We rescued your lost and your hurt, and you come here to spit on us."

A single woman, middle aged but powerfully build, still lithe and trim in the garb of a senior sister, with a lightsaber hanging at her side walked out the gates of the village, utterly uncaring as to the many shatterguns undoubtedly aimed at her.

"I remember the traditions you taught us. If you are truely Mando'ade, then honour those traditions and ours. One warrior verses one warrior for this land, to the death."

Shia breathed a sigh of silent relief, unable to stop the smile of hot blooded pleasure crossing her face as she ignored the protests from the two Kryze beside her.

"Shia to Yasha. Show Mist River engaged." She spoke into her comm, pulling the trophy lightsaber of Lord Ferro from her belt. She hadn't brought the other weapon with her - it had been damaged in the final battle and still needed some very delicate repairs, but she knew this blade.

The snap-hiss as the red lightsaber ignited stunned everyone into silence.

"Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it." She called across the open space in ritual acceptance of the challenge, then fired her thrusters and leap into the air, barraging the woman's position with a volley of micro-darts and drew her heavy blaster with her off-hand. There was a duel to the death, and there was honour, then were was fighting with everything you had. Lightsabers for show, guns for a pro.

[member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Kaden Mantis"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"]
 
He stood alone in a clearing, breathing heavily as his boots shifted in the dirt, under the red sky blood dripped from the blade of his tomahawk. They made their choice, they'd gotten violent. He'd insisted, tried to reason with them, but no, they would not leave. They would fight for a home that was no longer their's. So he killed them.

One had gone for her bow first, Silas split her head in two. The other had gotten farther, attacked him with blades screaming for revenge. She had refused to die.

When he opened her stomach she only fought harder, dark magic swirling around her like the pestilence it was, striking out at him. When he took her arm she shoved a knife in his side with the other, when he pinned her to the ground with the tomahawk through her ribs, she summoned whatever strength the force had and tried to electrocute him. When he crushed the nightsister's skull under the force of repeated blows, roaring like an animal, only then did the woman perish.

Leaving Silas alone amidst the dust, under a sky as red as the blood that painted his armor. Looking into the sky he pulled out the weapon wordlessly. He'd provoked them. He'd gotten coarse when they refused. Had he wanted to do it? Deep in his soul had he wanted this? The answer scared him more than any spell or curse.

Yes.
 

Allana Mazhar

Guest
A
At the Warlock Gate
Nearby: [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Post: 1

Allana had known nothing but the Netherworld. She was killed before she was born. Raised in the netherworld for many years before Akala split the galaxy, along with its spiritual counterpart. She wasn't the last "dead" woman to come into the Galaxy after the Second Akala Crisis, but if the Mandalorians had their way she'd probably be the last. Not that Allana had a clue as to what was going on on the living side of the gate. Or a clue how to breathe for that matter. She came from a land where the Force literally sustained you. Sustained everything. The sensation of breathing was new to her, and as a result Allana fell to the ground after a couple minutes, before exploring her body and forcing it to breath.

Haaaaaaaaaaaa-hooooooooooooo

Her breath was slow and exaggerated, and unnatural movement. She forced herself to do it again, and again, and again. She still had to be conscious of it, but it was starting to become more natural. To feel correct. Raising her head she looked out across the plains to see armored figured in the distance. She had a sword on her hip, a token from the Field of Blades in the Netherworld, but was otherwise unarmed. Her clothes were dark, light, and functional, but in no state to protect her from an errant blade. Allana began to realize she was perhaps in danger and darted to the side, taking cover behind an eroded stone pillar. They'd probably seen her. Her mind darted, what did they want? For that matter, what did she want?




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere in the galaxy [member="Rosa Gunn"] would feel a shift in the Force. It was like knowing what to say but know being able to remember the words. A chorus that she could place the tune but not recollect the lyrics. A lesson heard but not understood. A face recognized but a name forgotten. She would know that something had changed, but what?
 
Location: Warlock Gate
Allies: Mando’ade [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] @Atin Alo’rad [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Shia Kryze"]
Unknown: [member="Allana Mazhar"]

“Thanks, Kade… tell her that, she might die of shock.” Yasha hazarded a smirk, cocking her helmeted head to the side.

Giving [member="Koda Fett"] command of Sector Delta was the right call. Yasha felt it in her bones. She heard the order for lethal force in the background chatter of her comm feeds, and bit her lip. They couldn’t take Dathomir without death, yet Yasha still hoped that more left or remained in a peaceful surrender.

"Heard, [member="Shia Kryze"]."

There was no peaceful surrender the closer one got to the Warlock Gate. A mystic grief and despair clung to the stones and the surrounding glade. Mando’ade who lost loved ones in the Civil War, and before began to topple, to lean on their vode as the despair and loss took them, as it would take any who came to its’ beck and call.

Not here to touch it. Here to conquer. Nothing will ever come out of the Warlock Gate again without the might of the Mando’ade breathing down its’ infernal neck.” Yasha remembered that despair. As she faced the monolith, which once was her salvation, she remembered the terror that her young fingers would fumble on her mother’s blanket and Aditya would be lost. The young girl had tugged and cried. She yanked with every ounce of her emaciated body until the grass under foot and light of the sun struck her in an ethereal cascade. Yasha hated that stone.

“Daddy?” [member="Preliat Mantis"] said he would be there for his daughter, yet an uneasy drift coated Yasha’s ribcage as she realized there was more to it. She never should have brought her father to the Warlock Gate. He was too broken a man to resist the despairing call of the plinth.

Dad! Kade, help!” Yasha dove for Preliat’s shoulders as he fell to his knees, gripped his head. His eyes… what happened to his eyes?! “One side leads to the Sinner’s Rue, it’s this place of despair and loneliness… a place only a few ever leave ‘cause you go insane. The other side leads to the Dathomiri Spirit Plane… don’t touch it, Daddy. You promised to be here for your Yasha and I need you.

Rising with him, Yasha kept her arms around his waist, her body between him and the Gate. “Don’t make me knock you out and chain you to the ship, Daddy… Fight the despair. It’s an enemy, just like all the enemies we’ve fought… right?

Around the Warlock Gate, Mando’ade swarmed. Their weapons raised against the mild resistance of the Dathomiri population, most of the Mandalorians around the Gate were setting up fencing, defensive positions pointing toward the Warlock Gate.

“Over there! One of the Witches!” Cain Farr bellowed, an entire squad of Mandalorians with full beskar’gam and HUD’s trained on Allana’s position. “Seize her!”

“Wait!” A teenaged girl’s voice bellowed. The squad stilled, as Yasha Mantis, clad in her own golden and black armour, trotted over. “What side of the Gate did she come from!? Which set of Runes?

That one, Katlaydr.” Cain pointed, and Yasha took off her helmet.

Continue securing the Gate. I’ve got her.” The land Allana entered was a war zone controlled by a teenager, who also lived in the Netherworld. The Netherworld Yasha Mantis survived was no fine place. Every inch was fought as one damned to remain bathed in the Blood Plains, or swung flailing in Sinner’s Rue. Keen brown eyes flicked at the fellow girl.

Where did you come from? The Garden of Thorns? The Blood Plains? The Ruined City? Field of Blades? How did you get past Sinner’s Rue?” Helmet held on her hip, Yasha kept a respectful distance from the fellow girl. “I’m Yasha… you got a name, too? Try sucking air in your nose, out your mouth... don't panic if the odours here are too sharp. It'll pass.

Baiko would be proud that Yasha asked questions first, instead of rushing for the take-down. No… she remembered crossing the Gate’s boundaries. She remembered how discombobulating it was… the girl didn’t look Dathomiri, that was for darn sure.
 

Lemon

Citrus Dreams
Koda Fett



Sector Delta, Dathomir, Quelil Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Post: 4
In dire situations, much like this one, many men would crumble to pieces upon the realization of an impending doom. There was no rest, there was no time to think, and there was no time to grieve. Sector Delta, or simply D, was littered with the corpses of both Mandalorians and Nightsisters. It was a shame to say that some of the Dathomirians that attempted to flee were also caught in the crossfire. The decision for lethal rounds, despite being frowned upon, saved their lives by ending the enemies. It bought them time, but even with the extra amount it began dwindling. The losses kept building, and if reinforcements didn't arrive soon, they would surely perish.

Fett forced himself into a ditch, a pseudo foxhole if you may. He propped himself against the edge of it with his blaster facing the opposition. To his left and right he saw a scavenger's goldmine, and one that would only continue to build. Figures emerged from the smog, their red clothing, if it could even be called clothing, was a giveaway; much like the energy bow they carried that glowed. Fett's carbine shifted from left to right, firing a shot as each target exposed themselves. Three corpses with searing wholes in center mass collided with the soil, and then there was silence.

"Is that it?" One of the survivors thought aloud.

"Listen!" Another demanded, speaking a whisper that was loud enough to be regular speech.

The ground shook beneath them, the pools of blood that had seeped from the Mandalorians and the Nightsisters had ripples form beneath them. Something was coming, and whatever it was it was big. Big enough that the Nightsisters hadn't bothered to get in it's way, entrusting it to be capable enough to handle what Mandalorians were left. The Nightsisters were fond of a great many creatures, using their sorcery to take control of their very minds. They were often predatory and large in size, and whatever this one was it was heading their way.

Rancor. The only word that appeared in the Bounty Hunter's mind, envisioning the vicious beast and what it could do. Although he did not fear it, Fett had faced potentially the most dangerous beast in the galaxy and came out on top. In fact, he had killed it. The Balyeg dwarfed the Rancor. After that, Koda Fett had no reason to fear anything again, and so today he did not feel fear.

"Hold." The Colonel had spoken, moving his way out of the hole in the dirt and making his way towards a dead Mandalorian. He knelt down beside it's corpse as the beast moved in on their position, it's footsteps only getting louder and louder with each passing moment. Each of his men looked at him with a strange expression as he unhooked the jetpack from the dead warrior. The Bounty Hunter walked forwards with the jetpack clutched in his grip, approaching the corpse of a Nightsister. He shifted down onto a knee as he strapped it to the corpse of this woman, then dragging it back through the mud to the lip of their fortifications.

The Mandalorian Warriors remain in their entrenched positions, watching with a keen eye as their blasters remained trained on the approaching creature. It's silhouette became apparent through the fog, and Koda only raised the chest of the corpse that was previously face down upwards ever so slightly. Closer and closer, you could hear it's roar. It wasn't before too long it was right up in front of Fett, ready to swing. As the Bounty Hunter knelt down next to this corpse with his hand hovering over a button on the jetpack in defiance. The Bull Rancor, larger than any other he had seen before, dug it's heels into the ground and gave a territorial roar of sorts. Saliva and whatever happened to be stuck in it's teeth was flung in his direction.

It was at that moment the red button was pressed down on by Fett's gloved index finger. Flames protruded out of the bottom as it lifted off from the ground, soaring in the direction of the Rancor's open mouth. A Rancor wasn't known for it's intelligence, and as a result of it's own stupidity it's roar only continued. The flying corpse flew into the Rancor's mouth, colliding with the back of it's throat as the jetpack then detonated. It was as if it was breathing fire, but the breathing of said fire had killed it. A satisfying, fleshing thud was audible to all those nearby as it struck the ground with force.

In bewilderment the others looked to Fett, but their attention became diverted as their reinforcements appeared behind them. It seemed as if it was just in time, there only happened to be seven of them left.
 
Post: 2
Location: Some hill --> Warlock Gate
Allies: The Family, Mandos
Unknown: Lady who just came back from the dead which isn't as fascinating as it used to be these days

"Mother!"

The sharp screech of a blaster filled the air, and then, nothing. Silas Mantis brought himself to his feet, Westar in hand, gently sheathing his tomahawk. He'd been away from the main group to long, he'd just been pursuing the two stragglers, and apparently one of their offspring. The girl couldn't have been but sixteen, the same as he'd been when he'd first donned beskar'gam and went off to find [member="Preliat Mantis"]. He didn't have to wonder if he'd been ready, he knew now that there was nothing else for him in the galaxy, only this, only Mandalo'ade. But had the girl been ready? Had she been prepared to put everything on the line? She'd never really had a choice, she caught him off guard and then she was gone.

For a moment his eyes lingered on the still corpse of the girl. She hadn't resisted, she'd just panicked in her grief, and he killed her for it. He would say nothing of the incident to anyone, ever. It was his to know alone.

Wordlessly he pressed a bactapatch against the stab wound, letting the healing gel seal up what damage had been done. Unlike [member="Koda Fett"], he hadn't encountered any rancors yet, but also unlike the bounty hunter didn't have any reinforcements, the squad that had followed him to Alderra and the purge had been either killed or grievously injured during the engagement on L-49. He was alone.

Perhaps he should've lingered longer, buried the dead, but that risked being caught alone by a swarm of angry witches and possibly their fearsome mounts, so he left them in the dust. Hiking back to where [member="Yasha Mantis"], [member="Kaden Mantis"], and his brother were to be found, some dark passage known as the Warlock Gate, he wiped the blood from himself as best as he could, shaking droplets from his mechanical arm.

Even after numerous engagements, the arm still only showed a couple signs of wear, mostly a few scratches from his engagement with Sayne and the woman from the First Order aboard the Executioner. It was about the only thing about Silas that was untouched. His body was covered in new scars, from sabers, blades, blasters, bullets and any number of debris, each one with a story to tell. Silas supposed that was how Mandalorians remembered their battle, by the scars they left behind, little marks of honor.

Joining at the gate with the others he spotted [member="Allana Mazhar"], a strange woman the likes of which he had never seen before. She was not Mando'ade, but she did not look like the other witches and Nightsisters either, or a slave. However, since she did not seem to be becoming violent, he did not go for a weapon. Casting a glance at Ambrose Vizsla, he gave the old friend a nod before moving to join his family. "Who is this?" He questioned in Epicant for no particular reason but to see if Kaden had been paying attention in Baiko's lessons.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom