Invasion Warlords of the Sith vs Th Sith Empire | Invasion of Malachor V |

[Ulrich]

Engaging Khamul Kryze

Hexenmeister​

" I care not about about the price for betrayal as I have made it clear that I will uphold my allegiance to the true Sith as their aims intersect with my own. The fact that you are here on this battlefield simply works to reinforce the fact that my decision is the right one. To put it simply Mandalorian, I want your people dead. Every man , woman and child torn to shreds at the claws of the undead, their cities made into necropoli and their great works ground into dust at my feet. I hate you for what you have done to my people and the cleansing of your kind that Prazutis helped engineer was a thing of beauty for which my gratitude flows eternal."

Ugly bitter words. All the worse for the fact that I knew that despite how monstrous they were I meant every one. People make the mistake of believing that all Sith lack a conscience. I'm sure its true in some cases but my suspicion is that we learn to quash it when it is time for the truly grueling and bloody work to be done. Let mine mourn my wicked ways after the sons and daughters of Mandalore were lying in mass graves. Drawing my attention back to the conflict at hand I felt a hint of surprise at the use of the guided munitions in blocking my crystalline assaults. I hadn't expected the whistling birds to be used in such a manner. Quick thinking I would give him that.

Next came two boulders grasped with telekinesis and hurled towards me through the air. For one I lashed out with the Kriegertod smashing the mace into the boulder as it flew. The other I brought my tail around to impact shattering it just as surely as the morning star had done. While I did this the mandalorian had activated his jetpack and was busy soaring above me. There was a spark followed by a gout of flame from his wrist and as I closed my eyes I could feel the heat wash over me. As far as burns went it was relatively minor nothing like the facemelting agony a lesser species might experience if they took such an attack. Compared to the heat of a lightsaber the flamethrower hardly registered.

Speaking of lightsabers I had my eyes shut and the mandalorian was above me. A bad position for me to be in. This caused for a snap decision. Wheeling around I kept my tail in motion moving away from his arc and lashing out with the limb. This may have saved my back and wings but it left me with the unfortunate fact that my tail had just impacted one of the few things in the galaxy that could simply shear it off. As about three feet of length were hacked from the limb I couldn't even tell if the blow had actually done any damage to the Mandalorian.

Worse still lightsabers cauterized wounds. If I wanted the cursed thing to grow back I would have to reopen it later on. Not a particularly pleasant process to say the least. Fine if the incorporeal dead didn't cut it in these circumstances lets see how Kryze fared against those who had a body. I leaped back clearing distance as I spoke the words to an incantation.

"ارتفاع قذائف الكريستال"

Around the battlefield figures encased in the volcanic crystal began to stir from their slumber. The once rigid rock had become malleable allowing for movement. Through dark panes expressions twisted with silent howls and one after another the igneous revenants began to run towards Kyze at full speed their arms dark masses of sharpened crystal points ready to rain down blows upon him.

 

[Darth Immortuos]

​

Location: Malachor V
Mission: Critique the masses

It was rather quaint that Malachor, of all worlds, were chosen to be conquered. The planet that served as tombstone and resurrection for Immortuous himself. Hovering above its surface by a meter, The sith lord lingered mid air. Windblown like a flag, his tattered clothing flapped and dragged with natures flow. A crown of osseous matter adorned the top of his putrefying head and from it a dark taint lingered shrieking unheard silence. Sounds not heard to the ear but rather meant for the force itself. It transversed his twisted form, a body taken by The Sickness and rebounded off every single detail till it came to found rest apon a gauntlet with the appearance of aurum.

Where he lingered so did the beginning of a storm. Nature itself bent to the will other than its own. A higher will. One more "Enlightened" if you could say such a thing. Sunken in place deep into their pits, Two red eyes shifted their gaze to the would be King. The pretender himself. Darth Prazutis . The giants bellow and issue of a challenge was loud enough to be heard from what may of seem to be all corners of the planet and yet it seemed ail. The challenge was issued to all and Immortuos could only ponder if that also meant Prazitus himself. The king of a kingdom on its last knee. A ruler with barely any claim.

A conquerors seized and dominated what they saw fit and their actions demanded respect. This here was not the case. Not in the eye of Immortuos. Far ahead of him in fields that were naught but ash. Stood a tyrant over a governing system of sloppy seconds. Oh the folly of being a king without a kingdom. Threw the air Immortuos drifted, till his movements gave flight and were carried on the currents his power twisted. Soon enough the ash from Ashin Cardé Varanin own ritual could be seen drifting about like snow. Innocent and almost gentle to the touch and no less deadly.

 

[Kal]

Objective I, Location A: Breath of Ash in the Fields of Ash; Mystical Consultant.
Writing With: Ashin Cardé Varanin | Ingrid L'lerim

In hindsight, his grand scheme to becalm the raging storm was perhaps a bit optimistic. If it truly was fuelled by the raging currents of emotion that spread across the battlefield then he could probably do it with enough time, but there was a good chance the battle would be over by that point. No matter, he was here for his mystical awareness, not his all but nonexistent knowledge of military affairs and lacking sense of urgency.

<The body I provided won't quit on you that easily. I don't recommend challenging humans to a marathon, however.>

Gliding along beside her, unbothered by the raging storm, muddied terrain, and the occasional nearby skirmish, they made their way towards the pyramid. Towards the so-called Dark Saint and her much more malicious ritual. He did not know the details, but that only made him leerier of the unknown risks it represented. Interrupting it would be preferable, followed closely after by retreating to the far distance.

<Incoming.> Completely uninterested in responding to the sniper though he was - what kind of fool would identify themselves to a hostile party when anonymity was an option? - that did not mean he was not paying attention to her and more importantly the threat she represented.

Alongside the telepathically-uttered warning came a rough estimate of where the slug would hit, as observed in his own idiosyncratic ways.​

 

[Khamul Kryze]

Engaging: Ulrich

Army of Me​

Khamul's distraction seemed to have worked, if only partially. He managed to catch the beast off guard, successfully maneuvering above him, ready to bring his blade down. Then, suddenly, his enemy's tail swept out toward him. Khamul had to admit, the beast was quick for its size. He managed to cut a chunk of the tail off, but was still met with a hit of the rest of the tail, which sent him flying through the air. Having to think quick, Khamul finally cut the jetpack engine, allowing himself to fall. Reaching out with the Force, he was able to soften some of the impact. Luckily, his beskar assisted in the effort as well.

The fall still hurt, but he managed to recover his footing quickly. As he stood up, Khamul could feel another tremor in the Force. Rock and crystal began to take shape around him, forming into twisted masses of humanoid shapes. The beings began to rush at him from all sides, leaving him no room for escape. Khamul couldn't handle it anymore. The rage began to swell inside of him again, screaming at him to release his fury. Clenching his fist, Khamul cursed his enemy as he channeled all of his anger into one swift, downward motion. Slamming his fist toward the ground, he released all of his fury into a concussive movement of energy that sent a ripple of rock and earth in all directions, sending the beings flying backwards, leaving a crater in the wake of the strike. Dust and rubble flew in the air, launching shards of stone and obsidian in a hail of dirt. As the dust settled, Khamul reignited his lighsaber.

"You talk of being a slave to my people, and yet you enslave the very souls of the damned for your own purposes. You have no room to talk, beast. You are just like the rest of us. The only difference is that you lack the will to admit the truth about yourself. Now feel the wrath of the true will of the Dark Side!"

Khamul once again began pulling power from the Dark Side, kneeling down on one knee. Then, with a great and sudden ferocity, he leapt at his foe, using the Force to propel him at an inhuman speed. As he flew through the air, Khamul let out a hellish screech, letting the Dark Side flow through him completely unhindered. His goal was to land a cut along the side of his foe, using the momentum from the jump to attempt a deeper gash than normally possible. Perhaps it would be enough...

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Kascalion Giedfield | Vector Monk

​

“Insects… how pleasant.” Vinaze muttered under his breath as they approached the Imperial research team. He’d had enough of insects working on the native people of Kamar. The one good thing about them was how easy they were killed with a bit of fire. As quickly as Kascalion had requested him to, Vinaze began forming a ball of lime green flame between his crooked hands. He hurled the ball of flame at one researcher, then another, then the same until their writhing bodies and their shrill screams stopped. Their roasted husks collapsed, and the insects within stopped stirring.

The archaeologist before them was spared, if only to sate his master's curiosity and perhaps bloodthirst as well.

"My life is in thy hands of course," he lied, "Allow me to stay, dark one, and I will be thy guide. Allow me to live, and I will spread tales of thy power. Power beyond reckoning."

"This man is a weasel, my lord." He spat accusingly, finding the man humorous, if not also sad and pathetic. He looked at Monk, directly into his eyes. "oh how quickly you turn on your masters for another. Your death, and the reclamtion of this academy, will speak volumes more than any story you could tell."

Vinaze could tell easily that this man was no Sith. To Vinaze, the act of turning on one's master was one of the deepest rituals of the Sith. Either a Sith killed his master, or they killed him. In Vinaze's eyes the least this man could do was die with some dignity, instead of cheating the reaper...

 

[Drako]

Location: Temple of Malachor
Gear in Bio
Tags: Lady Marrow

---

As Drako and the Uvak soared through the air after making their hit-and-run attack on a couple of the E-Web emplacements he looked over his shoulder as he could have sworn he saw a creature fly through the air during one of the explosions. He knew that some of the Sith Empire used Sith Spawn but this didn't strike him as the often grotesque or gigantic behemoths that were characteristic of the Imperial forces. Unknown to Drako or the Uvak they had encountered spores from Lady Marrow which clung to Drako's cape as well as the tail and edges of the Uvak's wings.

Regardless of the creature's origin if had been brought by the Sith in their time of need it was unlikely to be harmless, which made it Drako's priority to slay it. Pulling on the reigns so that the Uvak began to turn around in a swooping motion towards where he saw the creature fly through the air he spotted not a creature - but a Sith of some sort? The blade she held did not give him the impression of a Sith nor that of a Jedi as it was so foreign. Despite a feeling of foreboding on an instinctual level he reminded himself of his duty.

Drako urged the Uvak lower and then when only several yards above the ground and as blaster bolts scattered off the Phrik hexagonal barding plates from creature, he lowered the long powerlance. The head of which began to glow slightly with intense heat and motion as the pennant banner behind it fluttered.

The Uvak shrieked as the spores on its tail and wings grew explosively in size, catching both it and Drako by surprise. As the spores grew on Drako's cloak the fabric ripped away from the added weight and tension. In a span of little less than two seconds the Uvak tumbled into the ground and its rider was flung forward from the saddle. The powerlance was almost like a vaulting pole as it lodged itself into battle scarred terrain and threw Drako a great distance forward. As fast as it had happened it would be a feat to see the knight landed. Though with some effort in searching one may make out the figure of Drako laying on his stomach across a chunk of destroyed duracrete.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

~ Why should I believe that you want to stop your own leader? Or control her?~ she also asked Ashin and Kal. She calculated the speed of movement and the direction of travel, where she could shoot the woman... she means so that the shot would not hit her, but the projectile would hit the ground just before her so that it could not hit Ashin yet. As soon as it was… she hoped this would stop the former empress and also get an answer from her or her companion. The Empress pulled the trigger...

<The body I provided won't quit on you that easily. I don't recommend challenging humans to a marathon, however.>
...
<Incoming.>
...
Alongside the telepathically-uttered warning came a rough estimate of where the slug would hit, as observed in his own idiosyncratic ways.[/JUSTIFY]

OBJECTIVE 1
LOCATION A: THE FIELDS OF ASH
REPRESENTING: Warlords of the Sith
OTHERS: Ingrid L'lerim Kal
GEAR: Kotsirluuk, DNK0 spotter droid, anticoncussion shoulder pad, basic light armor, Breshig War Forge SR-2M rifle with a variety of ammunition, and a lot of ash
GOAL: Conduct the rediscovered Breath of Ashes ritual on Malachor after eight or nine centuries forgotten But first, make the run

A sniper shot - either an invisible blaster bolt or a solid slug - thunked into the gray mud with explosive force. As far as Ashin could tell, there was about a fifty-fifty chance the shot was meant to hit. It might just be a shot across the bow, so to speak.

Meaning you could flip a coin for the odds that Ingrid was bringing lethal force to the table. Under those circumstances, Ashin kept running. The mud-slick stonework offered treacherous footing. She'd cinched her pack of precious ashes tight, maybe too tight for a dash over cumbersome territory. A weatherbeaten strap broke as she skidded into an area of broken pillars and reasonable cover. She stopped there, breathing hard, maybe a third of the way to the temple where Darth Voyance was doing her thing. The roiling Force and the hard rain offered no insight as to what was actually happening there.

"Thanks for the eyes," she said to Kal as she tried to re-tie the pack's broken strap into a semblance of useability. She tilted her head and spent some precious focus on answering Ingrid.

Because she has a great deal to learn as a leader before she can bring genuine vengeance to this rotten Empire. And I can teach her.

She slung the pack over her shoulders and kept running. A little farther and she could drop out of sight into some kind of dry canal-

Well, dry before Ingrid's storm, anyway. She landed hard, up to her shins in ash-mud. The canal's stone wall blocked line of sight - a brief reprieve. She had little doubt that Ingrid would find a new position soon, maybe something to fire right down the length of the canal. Either that, or start calling lightning from the stormclouds or some such. Lightning strikes wouldn't need line of sight to ruin Ashin's day beyond its current state of ruin.

​

 

[Ihsan]

LOST_SOUL
WARLORDS
Location: Trayus
Tags: Lesaj Aurelion Nova Zinn Zinn Bink'sa

​

​

Maybe it was a terrible mixture of both luck and misfortune, as the entire ruin seemed to beckon back to life with the sounds and movement of eldritch evil deep within in its bottomless depths. Creatures of both a bygone age lost to scholars and harbingers of the encroaching dusk, for the dark side was always eternal and an intrinsic part of reality's fabric. She cast a sidewards glance to the shadows around the group and was met in turn by yellow eyes forming in the dark, and then they came for them. One lunged for the younger Sith while another moved into the other woman's path, sensing an opportunity to evade the pair and the mad Gungan Ihsan bolted for the path leading into the complex with several Sithspawn in pursuit. It would not be long now; she knew no matter how many she cut down. They would come from the shadows like the Sithspawn of legend and drag her into the abyss. Vile, awful children of the dark that would find Ihsan in the murky corridors she was moving through and pull her into another more permanent hell. This time, one of her own making.


The first one to get close enough with bared fangs was answered in kind with a lightsaber through the eye; another came up from out of the crags in the ancient wall and jumped at the Mirialan Sith. A slab of stone that had once formed part of the ceiling obelisks made a much more effective weapon as she crushed the creature with a flick of a hand, splattering the beast's brains all over the corridor as the slab landed on its head. The onslaught seemingly stopped in its tracks, and the remaining beasts slinked away, presumably in search of easier prey; Ihsan imagined they'd try their fancy with the Gungan psycho. At least she hoped they would eat the maniac, and she'd not weep for him in any such case. Ihsan moved around several of the rooms, cautious of the Sith Spawn but seeing no reason to seek them out if they didn't attack her first. The only object of interest was a wall-mounted map embedded in a hieroglyphic wall adorned with Sith symbols showing the surrounding areas. Or at least, what they used to look like centuries ago when it was less decrepit. . Besides that, there was only old bits of furniture, rubble, and a few disturbingly fresh-looking humanoid skeletons in her immediate vicinity.​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Location: Fields of Ash
Allies: Warlords of the Sith
Enemies: TSE, Laertia Io
Equipment: Lightsaber | Nightfall | Duskfall

Both of Xiphos's blades came crashing down. Kentarch's form remained perfectly still, even as his opponent lunged forward swinging both lightsabers at their aim fell true, passing through his head and wrist. However, Kentarch's form melted away as the lightsabers passed through him, revealing Kentarch was just an illusion.

"You're sloppy," Kentarch voice rang out disappointed. "Not even using your senses to study your opponent. I've heard leaping before you look. But that was just silly." Kentarch intentionally egged on the insults. Xiphos's inverted grip lightsaber was virtually useless against Kentarch, and her extra long lightsaber with a slow swing could be more easily deflected then dodged as the weapon was naturally off-balanced.

Kentarch stepped out from a petrified statue of one of the many fallen that littered the battlefield. He was to her right and slightly behind her by a few paces. Using force cloak, Kentarch could bend light around him to vanish completely. He used the force cloak to sneak around Xiphos while the illusionary construct kept her attention occupied. Then he slipped behind her, it was all to easy. Always observant Kentarch noted the style in which Xiphos assaulted the illusion of himself. The final key to this fight was the armor set Xiphos was wearing. He needed to test her defenses.

"Again, who is your master?" Kentarch asked. His sword in his right hand, from his left hand a torrent of Sith Lightning erupt from his palm. Indigo bolts shot out and at Xiphos.

 

[Laertia Io]

Darth Kentarch for the most part had been hidden. But he had forgotten a crucial detail. The battlefield. They were surrounded by ash. No matter how well Kentarch could bend light, even he couldn't stop the movement of the ash. Thus, Xiphos was perfectly aware of his position when he stepped out to taunt her, approaching.

She wheeled around casually, at last sensing him properly as the dark lightning screamed for her death in the Force. The SynthBreaker Lightsaber caught it, absorbing the heavy discharge.

"So you're not only grim, you're a cowardly snake also!" Xiphos sneered back at his contempt. "I've killed that type before too."

She forced his Illusion away, restrengthened her mental defenses. That trick wouldn't work again. She couldn't do anything about him turning invisible, but the ash displacing through the air as he moved would be enough of a giveaway

The rope of lightning slammed into her blade, but it held, not breaking or shorting out.

Xiphos retaliated, sending out a Force Breach attempt at his mind, Twisting the Light in her to reinforce her will upon his, trying to completely disrupt his connection as she closed in on him.

The Sword of Cinndurr had another ability.

She flicked its tip at him, and 007 drops of magma escaped the blade, capable of causing severe burns if they landed.

She prepared herself. Snake though he was, Snakes have tricks. Especially when cornered...

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: The Fields of Ash, Malachor V
Objective I.: Stop the ritual!
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Kiss of the Red Witch | Heilagr MK. I ssassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Ashin Cardé Varanin | Kal

[ Just Inside My Head ] ​

The shot was perfectly accurate, a simple blaster projectile; she arrived exactly on the ground where Ingrid wanted it. Let’s say it didn’t stop the other woman for too long, but she felt the other consciousness join her as well. Whoever the other was, they still said nothing to Ingrid, though they received every message. But she didn't deal with it now. Fortunately, she received an answer from the former empress.

~ You will not be able to teach her. I’ve met her once, she’s just like the other Sith, the worst… She wants to shape everything and everyone into her own image. She tried to shape me into a Sith, too. She won't learn… but if you need help to stop her, I'll offer my help to you, to both of you. ~ *

It was in everyone's interest. The red-haired woman didn’t know what Dark Saint had seen, what she wanted to shape the galaxy, this place, but she was sure that the world wouldn’t be an especially pleasant place. Ingrid found it a little ironic that NIO and GA were almost there on their necks, and WotS was attacking TSE instead of NIO, while NIO had almost exterminated them earlier with Kyber Dark. Something had to be in the background, but it wasn’t her business at the moment.

As Ashin continued to run, Ingrid had to take on a new position. She didn't intend to shoot the other woman, she believed her that the former Empress wanted to stop Voyance, whatever the Dark Saint's plan was.


* Based on what we’re planning to do in our private thread with Voyance’s user (we started the thread).

 

[Lady Marrow]

Tag: Drako // Darth Voyance // Arctus Silmar
Gear: The Marrow Blade
Objective: 1

• Location B: The Temple of Malachor!

Lady Marrow seemed to have taken apart the apex dragonic creature that flew through the skies unabaited, her venomous tendrils began to wind across the winged creature as a toxic snare until it would consume it in its entirety. Her fungal formations tightening from its wing and its tail, gripping to the armour wound around it like ivy which would eventually seek to strangle the creature... unless it was rescued. Lady Marrow would hiss at the pain, watching the entity fall from his perch, leering over the edge as she would hope to at the very least destroy this creature. The destruction of the E-Webs however, had allowed a front-line of the crusaders to penetrate the front line defenses of the area.

Lady Marrow would leap to the defense, calling forth the spores she had been casting down the side of the enigmatic Ziggurat while commanding them in turn to grow. Her power would begin to lash out at the crusaders as they were met by the remaining defenders at the higher ground with the few remaining E-Web turrets hammering down on what they could... however, the hole was a little much, stray bolts were cutting through what they managed to have, slamming into their defensive positions, dropping their soldiers and beginning to push the defenders back towards the corridors of the temple itself.

Crusaders would find themselves entangled in fungal roots, struggling against them, cutting at them with vibroblades as they would attempt to dismember the voracious myconids, that seemed to limitlessly seek to stall them in place. Blaster bolts would begin to draw nearer and nearer their caster until one of them would slam into the hip of Lady Marrow, throwing her to the ground and causing lady marrow to cry out in pain from the direct shot, obliterating her defensive carapace in the area and leaving a deep dibbit in her body. ~This isn't fun at all... these people are trying to hurt me...~ Ran through her mind with a wave of doubt and disbelief, crusaders in heavy armour were tearing past her plants out in the open, they were nothing to them.

Wounded side, useless arm, she would slam her open palm into the dust, feeling the connections between the fungal web that enraptured some of the aggressors. Weakened like this she wasn't able to control the entire web... even feeding off the crown of her master in the distance as he engaged Darth Voyance in negotiations of a sort. But, she was able to control some of what was lower to the ground. Forcing the vines to adapt, developing chitin, they would protrude thin armour piercing barbs from their fibers, from every angle like hyperdermics which would thrust into the knees and legs of the crusaders as sharp as concertina wire.

Screams would echo as their composite armour would protect against the vast majority of the poison barbs attempting to shred their bodies, but it only took a couple of them to get into the back of the knees or ankles to deal a lot of damage as they were torn or removed from the body. With that, they'd be slowed down a little more, the gap blocked... tentatively, with an improvised layer of poisoned barbed wire as Lady Marrow would beat a retreat back into the hallways of the temple. Leaning up against the walls with her knees to her chest, tails wrapped around her frame as she would cradle her lifeless arm, probing at the large wound in her hip...

But at least that knight was gone... she hoped.

The Scene was set, Lady Marrow had her hostages trapped in a toxic field, a wyverian beast tangled within a limitlessly growing web that would only consume more and more of it while her wounds compounded until something moved to free it from the snare. The outer defenses were falling, but... Lady Marrow looked all but out of this fight... her morale shattered. The grip she held on her few captives was more like the grip a child clutched onto a teddy bear for comfort, crushing it in her arms due to the warm familiarity it provided them. Spaced out, distant and vulnerable as the crusaders would begin to tear through what defenses they had left...

~Someone ... help.~
​

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

EQUIPMENT: Armor - X | Main-Hand Lightsaber - X | Off-Hand Lightsaber - X | Right Arm - X
OBJECTIVE 2: Treasures of Trayus
Primary RP Partner: Darth Vinaze
Overarching Opponents: TSE
Who Else Is At Trayus: Ihsan | Zinn Zinn Bink'sa | Vector Monk | Onrai | Laertia Io | Aurelion Nova | Lesaj
What is Inside Trayus Academy (NPCS): Sith Statues | Sithspawn
Overarching Allies: WotS | Respective Allies
NPC Allies: The Convergent Order
Crusade War Chant: Warlord

​

"Incredible. Consider yourself fortunate to witness such a blessed sight before you die, Ygor."

The words that fell from this Imperial's mouth were unexpected as the Devil continued his dramatic monologue of "thee and thou." This unexpected feeling of surprise was only furthered when the man matched the Devil's speech patterns in the trade-off of words. Additionally so when he pressed forward a rather professional - if religious-like - context of being in the temple at this dig site. Well, not so much unexpected as unwanted, and especially unwarranted for a non-Sith. Still, an opportunity was there, and a myriad of further responses formed in his skull as the man continued with an offer of both guide and squawker.

Before the Devil could respond to the offer, his second - Darth Vinaze - spoke his own opinions on the matter, but not before he had so splendidly eradicated the insects below them. Kascalion only just noticed this, but the belated acknowledgment of the Corrupted One's mighty yet disdainful display of the Force would hopefully not be lost.

"This man is a weasel, my lord. Oh how quickly you turn on your masters for another. Your death, and the reclamation of this academy, will speak volumes more than any story you could tell."

The words spat forth by Vinaze rang their own truth and on most days, Kascalion would have outright killed the man to support the words of his second. But on this day, of which the events to come were of the greatest importance, there rested more than one option, one of which the Devil told himself to follow.

"Ease thine passion of slaughter for but a moment, dearest Vinaze," the Devil whispered through the Force to the Corrupted One, turning his gaze to the man who appeared more corpse than even himself. "A rat, he may be, but one who clearly holds a truest desire for the archaic secrets of our ancient past. One who may yet sniff out what it is that we seek and ease our journey considerably time-wise."

The blue flames of his eyes flashed for a moment as he turned his head back to the Imperial for but a moment before returning to his second, "And...would you not wish to have your tales spread throughout the lands of our greatest enemy? What better way to sow the seeds of dissension than through their own people?"

Leaving Vinaze to think on these words, the Devil straightened his back and pointed at the Imperial once more with his black-nailed finger and proclaimed with thunderous vigor through the Force: "Thou speak with confidence of Sith, yet power doest not runneth within thee! A mortal man, thou art, offensive to standeth within such historic walls! I would smite thee in twain...if I hadst nay useth for thine talents.

The Devil lowered his finger and began approaching with hard steps in the dust and dirt of the chamber, blazing eyes of ice-fire locked onto the white-haired Imperial, "Luck is with thee this day, it seemeth. Within this temple lies a font of energy I has't most wonderous desire to uncover and utilize for mine own devices. Thou clearly possesseth a talent of degradation of our sacred churches, and I would see it to precise application. This font lies deep within the core of this ancient place and thou will be our guide to it. Serve us well, make no complaints or remarks, and thine requests of spreading our great power will be granted. Refuse this most gracious offer...and I will see you join your researches in death."

 

[Darth Voyance]

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---

---

Location: Pyramid Steps, Moving to Pinnacle
Objective: Scourge of Malachor [1B - Temple of Malachor]
Warlord Horde: Horde Scourge
Paired TSE Targets: Arctus Silmar

---

"I am Arctus Silmar though I have always, and likely shall always, be known as The Shaper." said the Shaper, as he gazed at her. "Tell me, Lady Voyance....." The smallest of pauses and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her smaller form. "..... whom pulls the strings of a being such as yourself?"

Voyance narrowed her own eyes and lowered her blade, dropping its en garde posture as she felt the surge of the Dark Side charging at her. The ornate blade swept to her, in a cleaving fury. Rather than meet the strike and incur its momentous energy, Voyance, switched to an Ataru leap. Propelled by the Force, she took a long leap and then somersaulted in a series of flips as she landed behind the Shaper, drawing distance. She halted and spun around, now higher up the steps. She needed to draw the battle to the pinnacle and have the Dark Side excited by the clash. She would play his pensive game. Enough to draw him.

"Does it do you proud, to see the Darkness devour itself? To commit to the same folly as countless others before you?" he whispered in Force.

Voyance cracked a small smirk and took slow steps backwards up the decrepit stone tiles towards the pinnacle as she spoke. “Oh very, Lord Silmar. Great, great pride,” Voyance snarled. She levelled the lava crackling end of her red blade at the Shaper, moving it around like a lector’s teaching pointer. “And what of you, my lord, do you find some comfort in a rotting carcass? Do you find a solace of...peace...coddled by stagnation, obedience, and numbing terror?” Voyance's smile decayed into a flat line and her narrow glare loosened into an ambivalent deadpan gaze. “How disappointing. I sense great history in you, my Lord, but it is submerged beneath some vain veneer of “aged wisdom”. You know as well as I that the Order only survives when those who have lost the mantle are bled to nurture the rising mighty. How must the rightfully powerful rise up to grasp Victory and then Freedom when the weak, blind, and arrogant deny them? The Empire, my Lord, is delivering the Order, as slow, agonizing death. And I intend to remedy that affliction.”

“By any means necessary!” Voyance howled, spitting the Dark Side that had once propelled her leap to the very tips of her fingers to be released into a Force Blast that pulverized the stone steps that separated them. The explosion unleashed a debris storm of sharped and shattered stone, launched by the blast they flew like slugs fired from rail guns. Voyance gritted her teeth and ignited the other blade of her saber, now both were burning in bright red blades of plasmatic fury. ‘More,’ her soul fumed, ‘I need more from you all.’​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Plague and War
[ Theme ]
​

| Location | Malachor V​

| Purpose | Enlightenment​

​

Bellum's form above the atmosphere would contort and twist into itself, dispersing into a cloud of shadows as he vanished from sight. On the surface at the side of Darth Immortuos , his form reshaping into his towering visage as he stood side by side with the Overlord of Blackwing and among the few that claimed the title of Sith that he saw as respectable; an equal even - The Plague and Warmaster. His form was even more tangible than usual, the atmosphere created by the Dark Side giving him a more corporeal form.​

​

Bellum's gaze fell to the direction of Darth Prazutis as his arms crossed over his chest as his voice rumbled, " Each day their insipid commands grow weaker and weaker. For the one who claims inheritance to a crumbling empire, this certainly grows stale... " For Darth Prazutis to issue a challenge and confront the Warlords was certainly pitiful, merely equating to little more than an attempt to posture himself after having failed to make any sort of meaningful presence on any of the battlefronts in the war they had been losing. They were hollow words belonging to an individual that was little more than a shadow of Carnifex with no weight or authority to them.​

​

The Lord of War's form stepped through the desecrated landscape alongside Immortuous, toxic ash falling around him as they passed through his ephemeral form, his voice speaking once more, a cacophony of voices all intertwined into one,​

​

" What say you to this boy's challenge oh Lord of Decay? "

​

 

[Ulrich]

Opponent: Khamul Kryze
Gommorah​

"Yes Mandalorian, I pull souls from the cold soil and the depths of the inferno. These miserable wretches are given a time to act again upon the living world. Something that many spirits would and in some cases have killed for. I let them taste again the fruits of life if only for a short while. Compared to the beast cages and breaking sessions necromancy is a small torment indeed. This is irrelevant though, as I care not how my revenge is accomplished as long as it is realized. I would gladly damn myself ten times over should that be the cost of ending your get."

I could see the mandaloran hurl my servants away, tossing them back with an outflux of telekinesis. Little chance they would topple a ready sith on their own but it gave me time to gather my strength to avoid the next blow. I suspected that the battle had now become one of attrition and that whomever could outlast the other would be the one to emerge the victor. I could feel the force begin to coalesce around Kryze as he took to a knee an absorbing of energies drawn from the emotional spectrum that was at a fever pitch here.

Not time for a fancy counter attack here I had over played with the last move earning myself severed body-part in return. It was instead time to take up a defensive posture and let the fool exert his energy on all out attacks while I took advantage of his excess and eventual exhaustion. In such a state I could finish him off with a solid blow or have him swallowed by a tide of the deceased. Let this be a war of attrition and see who gives out first.

I raised the krieger-tod as Kryze veritably blasted off the ravaged earth propelled with all the ferocity of a full power force push. Many tended to focus too much on the head of a maul forgetting that the haft could also be extremely useful in many situations. Bracing my weapon I used its shaft to parry the blow feeling the potent gravity behind the strike. Where I a lesser sith blocking such a empowered strike would be a bad idea, potentially driving my own weapon into my ribs shattering bone and causing ruin. I wasn't however and I had one VERY important factor on my side - mass. Compared to my mass of darkside infused metal a lightsaber lacked pushing force not to mention that my own weight behind it made it near impossible to shift with a strike from an energy blade.

"Pathetic."

Not the best of taunts but so often simplicity was best when it came to such matters. With luck Kryze would be incensed enough to turn a brutal strike into a berserker barrage allowing me to put a decisive end to this when the combat fatigue started taking its toll.

 

[Dasam Kal]

The Fields of Ash, Malachor V
Allies: Warlords of the Sith
Opposition: Valen | The Sith Empire

[THEME]

​

A swift turn of the head was made towards the sergeant as their airway was restricted by the very grip of the force itself. It was later followed by a hurl towards his other compatriots who were spaced out, a chapter trooper getting clipped by his leader's heel and another catching his sergeant with his own body. It brought a distraction to the Chapter Troopers that Dasam was attached to, an opportunity for the foes above to take.

Dasam's lightsaber brought light to his figure as it was activated, the crimson light almost blending him with the Chapter Troopers at his side. The Sith turned back to set his gaze upon the Acolyte that choose to stand against him, and he canted his head to the side. An expression of curiousity, one that the sith wondered regarding that acolyte's presence even as he spoke his honeyed and confident words. Could those words be supported? With a measely spin of the saber, Dasam took a few steps over towards the side and his golden gaze was buried onto the Acolyte.

With the chapter troopers gathering themselves, Dasam came to a halt in his stride and gave out his response. Perhaps with the same purpose as his opponent.

"Why bother? Why fight for a dynasty that is spending its last days, mustering whatever support it can receive? When it should be standing tall and relying in its own strength as it did in years past." A slight imperial accent being carried with that query.

Regardless of the impact it would've given the Acolyte, the Tactician had a task to fulfill and he would see to it that it was done. A twirl of the saber was made and it was held beside his head, a spare hand with two fingers jutted out. Both the hand and the tip of the saber pointing towards his opposition.

The acolyte was provided the first move, the first strike.

 

[Darth Maleva]

「 the price of your greed is your son and your daughter 」
TEMPLE OF MALACHOR
Alina Tremiru | Kalt Bruq | Quintus Varro
​

Feed. Danger. Feed. Enemies. Feed. The primal instinct whispered, but Maleva attempted to control it. Though it grew wild with age, she was determined not to fall to the same madness she had witnessed another succumb to. Tearing her focus away from the drive, it moved to the figures in the distance instead. She drew her own weapon in response to the hostile action, though her crimson saber was but a fallback. Her power resided in her mind, not in shows of brute strength or dueling.

Raven tresses shifted as her head cocked. A dangerous smirk crept across her face at the approach. She gave the woman a moment, letting her draw nearer, like a fly to a spider's web. Finally, the sith lord lifted her free hand, crooked her fingers, whispering words of old. Her mind probed, looking to steal the will from under the victim.

Her expression fell when she found nothing. No will, no fear, nothing to draw on. The golden gaze shot from the challenger to the one who had stayed behind. A wave of anger fell over Maleva. Whether trickery or protection, she was unsure, but she should have noticed sooner. Breathing deeply, she attempted to put the fury to proper use. Her eyes narrowed as she shifted the target of the magic to the man.​

 

[Khamul Kryze]

Engaging: Ulrich

It's an Ultimatum​

Khamul's attack was stopped in its tracks. He was hoping that he was fast enough to land the blow, but this creature was proving to be a formidable foe. His lightsaber had been parried to the side, and his body almost flew to the side with it. If he hadn't had seen the parry at the last moment, Khamul may have ended up flying across the field. He rolled backwards as he listened to the beast's taunt.

"The only thing pathetic here is you, beast. You who claim to be free, and yet are still a pawn. You have been fooled by these pretenders into thinking you operate on your own terms. The truth is, you have not outgrown your cage. You merely found a new one."

Khamul took a moment to refocus on the fight. He could sense that the dragon was attempting to wear him out. It was a valid strategy, and he had to admit... the beast wasn't wrong. He knew that he had a tendency to overexert himself in a fight, but that didn't matter. He would find a way to end this, and soon. He wasn't going to see himself suffer a defeat at the hands of this creature.

He decided that he had to attack from multiple angles. He had to find a way to keep his opponent busy enough to take a hit. As he reached out, drawing on the energy from the planet once again, Khamul took a deep breath.

"I will wear your hide as a cloak!"

As he screamed, Khamul let loose the rocket from his jetpack, launching it toward the creature. As soon as the rocket left the jetpack, Khamul quickly advanced for his foe, launching a stream of Force lightning from his hand, aiming for the face of the creature. Hopefully this would serve to distract it from the rocket's true target; a nearby cliff side. The goal would be to blast a chunk of the cliff off of the side, sending a mass of rubble onto the dragon as Khamul would close in for a strike. If the plan failed, then at least he would be in a better position for an attack.

He needed to bring this beast down, and fast, and hopefully, this would be the way.

 

[Onrai]

Enemies: Darth Voyance
Neutral: Arctus Silmar
Allies: Bryn Celli Ddu Dea

"I want your assistance in preventing these whelps from sullying my world." The words of the ascended leader of Sith sounded intentionally imperious, a deliberate act in order to maintain her dominion over Malachor and Nathema. Her hand was plainly offered to Bryn as well as her herald, a deliberate act - a touch would allow her to force the duo through the bond of her physical manifestations on the long tainted world, a place where the use of any innate darkness was blessedly easier. Such had made the Jedi's actions on the unhallowed planet far more difficult than people would initially believe.

-

"Any?"

A voice rang out over the hollowed landscape. Whispers of things long dead arose from the air, and the sense of electricity jingled in ways unnatural. Darkness congealed from beneath the very chalky dirt beneath them, manifesting into a the inky black form of the woman whose presence on this world had spanned decades. It had felt like only yesterday that she had taken the ruins of the Trayus Academy and turned them into her own private laboratory, despite the time of the last Sith Empire having been decades prior.

"Lady Voyance, I presume. It seems you've done much since abandoning Emperor Zambrano's side." She replied, hands raised and ready for a fight - she wholly expected such to occur, though whether the response from the Shaper would be a positive one or not was unsure - this was certainly a score she had to settle personally.