Private Whispers Beneath the Green

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

The Force does not shout.
It waits.

And so Torin Emberlain had waited too, listening as only those trained to silence can listen. For days now, the current beneath his senses had shifted — a gentle thickening, like the hush that falls before a forest storm. Not a warning, nor a cry for help. But a feeling — old, rooted, watching.

He did not know Aphran IV well. Few did. A world folded quietly at the hem of civilised space, known for nothing particular save its soil, its rains, and the constancy of its trees. A place left alone by conflict. That, perhaps, was why the Force whispered here.

He stood near the rear of the shuttle as it descended, his tall frame swaying slightly with the shift in gravity. The ring on his right hand — smoothed bear-tooth and kyber, worn warm with years — pulsed against his skin, as if acknowledging the nearness of something unspoken. His greatsaber rested against his hip, silent, waiting.

Outside the viewport, the town revealed itself with the subtle modesty of a hand-painted mural: a scatter of roofs beneath the canopy, fields cleaved into the wild growth, old paths barely winning their battle against vine and root. Civilisation here was not a conquest, but a coexistence.

The shuttle touched down with the faintest sigh. Torin stepped down into the air — thick, green-scented, heavy with life. He paused. Closed his eyes. Not just in meditation, but in joining.

The breath he took was not his alone. It was the breath of fern and bark, of river reed and damp earth. The forest was near — not just in distance, but in presence. In memory. Something waited there. Something buried.

He reached outward, not far, just enough. Let his sense ripple like a stone in a pool.

And he felt it.

Not rage. Not hunger. But stillness turned inward. Something asleep, perhaps. Something dreaming badly.

He opened his eyes. No one had come to meet him — and that was fine. He had not come for people.

He adjusted the simple pack on his shoulder and began to walk, not with urgency, but with intent. Into the trees. Into the old, green breath of the world.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

The Force does not shout.
But it echoes.

And Valery had followed that echo across the stars.

She hadn't spoken much on the journey — not to the crew, not even to the comms. Some worlds required silence long before you landed. Aphran IV was one of them. The kind of place the galaxy forgot, where old things lived beneath older roots, and the Force took its time.

Her boots hit the earth a few minutes behind his. No one met her either. That was fine. The forest greeted her instead. She paused at the edge of the canopy, one hand brushing the moss-dark bark of a nearby tree. It was wet and alive, breathing.

She adjusted the saber at her side and stepped forward, each movement deliberate, as if not to wake something that might still be deciding whether it cared she was here at all. The path was barely there, more suggestion than trail, but the Force pulled at her — not loud, not urgent. Just... constant.

She walked deeper.

And then she saw him.

A tall figure ahead, moving through the underbrush with that same sense of quiet purpose. She didn't call out. Just closed the distance between them like the trees had parted on purpose. Like she was meant to arrive behind him, here and now. "You're hearing it too," she said softly once she was close enough — not a question, but a truth laid bare.

She came to a stop beside him, eyes tracking the play of light through the green above, the pull in the roots below.

"Do you mind some company?"

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin didn’t startle. He had felt her long before the trees let her through. Not through footfall or rustle, but in the way the forest shifted — as if something known and welcome had arrived. As if the underbrush itself drew breath, exhaling calm.

He stood still, a dark figure haloed by mist, hand resting lightly against the bark of a nearby trunk. The greatsaber hanging at his hip was silent and still, like a sleeping beast.

"You move lightly," he said, voice deep and sure.

Then he turned. His gaze met hers — grey, steady, and quiet as morning fog over water. There was no surprise in his face. Just recognition. Not just of who she was, but of what she carried.

When she asked her question, he took a moment before replying. A faint curve of his mouth — the ghost of a smile.

"Company would be welcome," he said, low and sincere. "Some paths aren’t meant to be walked alone." His smile deepened as he placed a hand in his heart. "My name is Torin."

He shifted slightly, so she could fall into step beside him. The trail ahead glistened with dew and shadow.

"There’s something waiting out here," he added, brushing a hand across the wet leaves as they passed. "It hasn’t shown its teeth yet. But it remembers how."

His tone held no fear — just reverence for the wild, and quiet assurance now that she was beside him.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery blinked as he turned, and the full measure of his presence hit her.

Gosh, she thought, eyes flicking upward. He's tall.

She wasn't exactly short herself — 5'9" and accustomed to standing eye-to-eye with soldiers and Jedi alike — but even so, Torin towered over her like a walking monument carved from storm-swept stone. There was something impressive about it. Not intimidating. Just… grounding. And maybe — just maybe — she blushed. A flicker of warmth beneath the surface. But she didn't say anything. Just smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Torin," she said, her voice soft but warm, a little more Keshian now. "I'm Valery."

Her steps shifted easily to match his, falling into the rhythm of the forest's breath. She let a hand brush against the low-hanging leaves as they passed, mirroring his motion without even thinking about it — just a shared instinct. A way of listening to the world through touch.

At his final words, she glanced sideways at him, her expression thoughtful. "Good," she murmured. "Let it remember. But let it know we remember, too."

There was no boast in her tone. The forest might hold its secrets close, but the Jedi were here now — and they knew how to walk where silence ruled.

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin didn't speak at first. He only looked at her — not just at her, but through her, as if some deeper part of him was recognising something more profound from within her. His grey eyes, pale and soft as morning ash, held her gaze in a steady silence.

There weren't many Jedi in the galaxy named Valery. Fewer still with such striking citrine eyes — bright as wildfire in the dusk — and the three-clawed scar across her left that marked a life hard-lived and harder won. He had heard the name whispered with reverence. Now, standing before her, he didn't need confirmation.

The Force had drawn them both here. It didn't often bother with coincidence.

"Well met, Valery," he said at last, with a quiet smile that felt like sunrise through old trees. One could hear the humble sincerity in his voice — no fanfare, no pretension. Just simple warmth. As if meeting her mattered, deeply and without need for explanation.

He said nothing more — no mention of her title, or her legacy, nor that of his own. But there was a subtle shift in the air between them, the silent recognition of someone who knew who she was. Not from records or rumour. From the Force.

"Shall we?" he said again finally, voice like rich sunlight.

They walked on together, wordlessly for a while. The forest deepened around them. The light thinned. What breeze there had been now curled only at the edges, as if holding its breath. No birdsong, no movement — just a dense, unnatural stillness pressing down like moss too thick to breathe through.

Torin slowed, his eyes scanning the undergrowth. His voice came low, like he didn't want to wake something sleeping just out of sight.

"I don't yet know what's happening here," he said, gaze drifting across the thick under brush. "But something isn't right."

He slowed, one hand brushing a twisted vine — its surface cold, pulsing faintly with a presence not its own.

"There's unease beneath the soil. A tension in the roots. And not the kind that comes with weather or predators."

He glanced sideways to Valery. "This is a quiet world. Whatever's made it whisper like this… it wasn't born here."

He didn't say 'darkness.' He didn't need to. The air had begun to feel heavy with it — not loud, but waiting. Like something watching from just behind the trees.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery slowed when he did. She felt it too — that hush in the air that wasn't peace. Not anymore. It wrapped around her shoulders like fog. Listening and watching. Her eyes scanned the trees as Torin spoke, her fingers brushing the bark of a nearby trunk, then stilling when she felt it.

The wrongness.

It wasn't loud. It didn't scream. But it was there — coiled in the roots, just beneath the skin of the world. Old, maybe. Or new in a way that hadn't yet decided how to show its face.

Valery exhaled, slow and steady.

"You're right," she murmured, gaze flicking upward through the thinning canopy. "It's not the dark that concerns me. It's the silence." She turned her head slightly toward him, the corner of her mouth lifting, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's too quiet."

She stepped forward again, just enough to crouch near the vine he'd touched, hand hovering over it but not yet making contact. She let the Force stretch out around her like breath — not probing, not demanding. What came back wasn't a voice. It was pressure. Damp and expectant. Like something waiting to be woken.

"This isn't natural," she said softly. "Something has touched the land. Left its fingerprints in the roots. Not corrupting, not yet. It's… searching." She rose again, slow and smooth, her gaze meeting his.

Then her eyes sharpened, and the calm that had laced her voice folded into focus.

"We'll find it. Before it decides this forest is home."

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

The forest deepened. Hour by hour, the canopy grew heavier, thick with shade, heavy with silence. Not a birdcall. Not a chitter. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Torin walked ahead, his steps reverent, as though afraid to wake the land from some uneasy dream. The Force stirred beneath his feet, muffled, like roots clenched in tension.

They passed through a glade just before midday — a waterfall tumbling down a mossy cliffside into a clear, crystalline pool. The air should have been alive here, vibrant with insects and birdsong, the scent of wet stone and earth a balm. Instead, it felt hollow. Beautiful, but wrong. Torin slowed and looked out across the glade, then back to Valery.

"This would have been peaceful once," he said, voice low. "But something’s pressed the forest into hiding. Even here, it’s too still. The creatures are gone."

He swept his gaze across the glade. The air hung still — cool, quiet, too quiet. Not the kind of peace that soothed, but the hush of something held back. It unsettled him, this absence of birdsong, of motion, of life. The forest was waiting. Listening. And whatever had silenced it, he meant to find.

Still, even with purpose burning steady beneath his ribs, a brief pause… would not be unwelcome. He glanced back at his travel companion.

"Shall we rest a moment?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery’s head tilted slightly at his question, a smirk already forming as she stepped past a fallen log and glanced back at him over her shoulder.

“Already tired?” she teased, voice light but edged with warmth. “We haven’t even outrun anything ancient and horrible yet.” But the words were followed by a slow exhale — and then a nod.

Truth was, she felt it too. Not just the tension in the air, but in her own body. That subtle kind of readiness that left your muscles coiled, even when you weren’t fighting. The stillness was heavy. Enough to wear on even the most practiced mind.

“A moment wouldn’t hurt,” she admitted, stepping closer to the edge of the glade. The soft trickle of the waterfall echoed through the quiet like an echo from another time — when the forest had been alive, not just haunted.

Valery dropped into a low crouch beside the water, brushing her fingers along the moss-covered stone. It was cool. Damp. Too perfect.

“But only a moment,” she added with a wink, her tone softening. “Whatever did this? It’s still listening.”

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin huffed a soft chuckle.

"I was only being mindful of your endurance," he said, voice carrying a mellow edge of amusement. "Wouldn’t want to embarrass you if I started scaling cliffs before breakfast."

His smirk deepened slightly when she winked — a flicker of something brighter beneath his usual calm — but he didn’t push the moment. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the water, the sound of it threading through the air like breath in a chest too long held.

He crouched a few paces from her, resting his forearm across his knee, and took a long, silent look at the moss-covered stone where her fingers brushed. The green was vivid, unspoiled. Almost defiant.

"A place like this," he murmured. "Should be humming with life. Insects. Birds. Something."

His fingers pressed gently to the earth, allowing his senses to expand through the woodland. No vibration. No song. Just the distant hush of the falls, like memory echoing forward. When he looked back at her, his voice was quieter.

"It’s listening, yes. I wonder if it’s also waiting."

He paused a beat, then added with a lopsided smile, "Still… nice place for a rest. If we weren’t being watched by the entire forest at least."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery rolled her eyes — dramatically — and let out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Oh please," she said, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "You wouldn't make it halfway up a cliff before I'm already at the top, sipping caf and waiting for you to catch up."

She didn't miss the way his smirk tugged deeper after her wink, and it sparked a flicker of warmth behind her own grin. That was newer. She liked it more than she was ready to admit. And still… she glanced back toward the moss, her fingers brushing it again.

He was right.

Too still. Too quiet.

Like the world had taken a breath it wasn't sure it wanted to release.

But when he crouched nearby, earthy and grounded, Valery felt a different kind of stillness settle between them. Not the eerie silence of the forest — but something quieter.

She hummed low in her throat, eyes still on the water. "If this place is waiting… it's being very polite about it."

Then, after a pause, she thought to herself, Still, I wouldn't mind seeing you climb. With that body... She then stood slowly, stretching one arm overhead with a quiet groan of stiff joints and motion-earned fatigue. The sun filtered through the trees just right — soft gold on her face, dappling her dark clothes in warm patches.

"It really is a nice place," she murmured, softer now. "Shame we probably won't get to enjoy it for long."

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin let out a low, amused breath through his nose.

"A race, is it?" he said with a raised brow. "You’re on. But I’ll warn you, I’ve been climbing trees since I could stand." He cast her a playful glance, eyes gleaming as they glanced her form for the briefest of moments. "Though with your stride, you might have the advantage."

He moved toward the edge of the pool and crouched, cupping cool water in his hands. As he splashed his face, the tension seemed to roll off him with each drop. Fingers swept through his damp hair, slicking it back, revealing more of the sharp, weathered lines of his face.

For a moment, he was quiet. Listening. Then, standing once more, he looked over at Valery, and the tone of his voice shifted, quieter and more grounded.

"Maybe we’ll have time to enjoy it properly on the way back. Once all this is done."

A pause, then a faint smirk.

"If not, at least now I know a good spot to drag you to for a rest... when you finally admit you’re tired."

He slung his satchel back over his shoulder, eyes scanning the trees again, but softer now.

"Shame, though. This place deserves peace."

His gaze turned back to her then.

"Shall we?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery tilted her head as he slicked his hair back, watching the water trail down his face before she turned away — just enough to hide the smirk tugging at her lips.

"Climbing trees since you could stand?" she echoed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Cute. I grew up in a jungle too, you know. Vines thicker than your arm, branches slick with rain, and trees that didn't want you climbing them." Her amber eyes glinted. "So, if this is a race… I like my odds~"

She stepped past him with a sway in her stride, her voice low as she added:

"Besides…"

A pause. A wink over her shoulder.

"I never get tired." But there was a softness to the tease now. A quiet undertone that matched his. Something warmer. More real. Maybe we'll have time to enjoy it properly on the way back, he'd said. Valery let that linger in her thoughts for a heartbeat longer than she should've. The idea of dragging each other back to this quiet place, when the danger had passed and the forest could be more than a battleground... it wasn't a bad thought. Not bad at all.

"Still," she said as she adjusted her gloves, readying herself again, "That does sound like a fun idea. You picking the spot, me pretending I need the break…"

She offered him a sly grin, then nodded ahead toward the treeline.

"Let's finish what we came for." And with that, she moved forward again — purposeful, confident, and entirely ready for what lay ahead. Whatever darkness stirred in the jungle, it was going to have to face both of them now. Together.

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag:

Torin followed with a quiet shake of his head and the ghost of a grin — subtle, but undeniably there.

"Remind me to ask you to show me that jungle, someday," he said, voice low and warm like worn earth. "I'd like to see the kind of land that shaped such a... force of nature."

His tone was gentle — but there was an undercurrent of admiration in it — easy to hear if you were listening for it — and perhaps something more. It was as if despite all the wit and banter, he respected every step she took into the wild beside him.

He caught up to her stride, just slightly behind, letting her take the lead for the moment. But as she glanced back with that sly grin, he let one of his own bloom a little deeper.

They pushed on.

The forest thickened around them. Lush branches arched overhead, but the vibrant green gave way slowly to deeper hues — moss graying, bark darkening, leaves less lively. It wasn’t just shadow. The Force itself had dimmed.

Torin slowed. His brow furrowed as he lifted one hand, fingers spread, brushing the currents of energy around them. His voice was a quiet note in the air.

"Something ahead. Cold. Like... rot beneath the roots."

Following that sensation, they passed beneath a fallen tree and into a patch of overgrowth that had grown up like a curtain — vines thick and unnatural. Hidden behind them, just barely visible, was a narrow entrance hewn into the stone. Half-swallowed by time, it breathed cold air against their skin. He turned to Valery, expression now sharpened with focus.

"Ready?" he asked softly.

He stepped forward first. Drawing his greatsaber but not igniting it yet, he ducked beneath the threshold and began the descent.

The steps were worn, ancient — and seemingly endless. The deeper they went, the colder it became. The air was thick with moisture and dust, clinging to their skin, their clothes. Each footfall echoed in the close stone, but so too did something else.

A voice. No — many voices.

Chanting.

Soft at first, like breath through bone flutes, rising in broken rhythm. The scent of incense crept up the stairs next: bitter, cloying, like burned roots and dry blood. Torin paused only briefly.

"What in the galaxy...?" he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Whatever they’re doing down there… is a desecration."

He exhaled, and the mist of his breath drifted in the cold air. One more step downward, and then another.

The tomb awaited.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery's stride slowed as the air grew heavy — not just with cold, but with something older. Something wrong. But even as the chill crept up her spine and the voices began to echo through the stairwell, she tilted her head toward Torin with that same glimmer in her amber eyes.

"I'll take you there," she said softly, her voice low in the dim light. "The jungle, I mean. Vines thick as your torso, rivers that gleam like glass in the moonlight... you'll like it." She paused at his side, brushing her shoulder lightly against his as she passed. "If you can keep up~"

There was a wink then — quick, playful — but behind it, warmth. She wasn't just teasing. The idea of bringing him somewhere personal… it meant something.

But that moment passed like breath in cold air.

Her focus shifted as they moved deeper into the ruin. Her expression sharpened, all amusement melting into quiet alertness. She reached out with the Force, fingers barely twitching at her sides as if combing through the darkness with invisible threads. What she felt wasn't simply presence. It was intention.

Malice.

She drew her saber, but didn't yet ignite it. The silence between each chant was long enough to feel deliberate. Ritualistic. They weren't just hiding in the dark.

They were doing something.

"I don't think this is just a hideout," she said, keeping her voice low. "This feels... ceremonial. Cult, maybe. That chanting — it's not random." She touched the stone wall beside her, eyes narrowing at the faint symbols carved into its surface. "This tomb… it was sacred once. They're corrupting it. Feeding on it."

Another step forward. The chanting grew louder — still unintelligible, but rhythmic now.

"They're building toward something," she said grimly.

Her thumb brushed the ignition plate of her saber, not activating it yet, but ready. Then she glanced sideways at him — her calm threaded with steel now.

"We stop it."

And she moved again, descending into the desecrated dark.

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

The air shifted. What had once been breath and shadow turned dense with purpose — the stone beneath Torin’s feet no longer felt still, but waiting. Listening. And somewhere, deep in the marrow of the ruin, feeding. Something ancient pressed inward, like roots reclaiming a forgotten path, or rot beneath a tree’s bark.

He said nothing for a while.

Just listened.

And then they reached it — an open chamber. It opened wide and high, a vast space carved from the living stone, once holy, now humming with perversion. The air was thick with incense — too sweet, too strong — masking rot with flowers. Torches burned in iron sconces, casting long shadows across a congregation of masked and robed figures gathered in a loose circle. Their hooded robes were bone-white. At the centre stood a man — tall, draped in elegant black-violet robes embroidered with curling, floral filigree. Something in the thread shimmered faintly with sickly light.

He was mid-chant when they entered.

Torin didn’t need translation. The words were older than Basic. And wrong. He could feel them rooting into the ruin’s veins like mold. They were summoning... something, becoming... something.

The man stopped.

Slowly, the cultists turned.

Dozens of masked faces fixed on them in unison.

Torin’s hand drifted toward the hilt of his greatsaber, but he didn’t draw it yet. He met the cult leader’s gaze — or where his eyes should have been — and felt the chill coil through the Force.

"What are you doing here!?" the robed man roared, voice echoing unnaturally, as if the walls repeated him with resentment. "This place is not for you!"

He raised a hand, fingers clawed with rings and bone.

"Take them!"

The cult surged, revealing various light weapons that all simmered brilliant reds and purples. Lightwhips, saberstaves, and others merely using the Force. In a horrifying chorus of curses, they all sped at the two intruders, ready to do whatever was necessary to remove them

Torin’s saber snapped to life in a wash of green flame, casting wild shadows across the walls. The druid stepped forward, shoulder brushing Valery’s as he moved.

"I’ll clear the right," he murmured, calm beneath the storm.

And with a breath drawn deep from the roots of the Force, he stepped into the oncoming tide.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

No hesitation. No words. Her lightsaber came to life with a sharp snap-hiss, casting violet fire across the stone like lightning caught in glass. The cult surged like a tide, but she was already moving, cutting to the left, her blade a blur through the haze of incense and chanting.

She didn't roar or curse or warn. She danced.

The first cultist met the edge of her saber mid-leap, his lightwhip unraveling in a flash of broken energy. A second came from the side, staff spinning, but she slid beneath the strike, rolled, and came up with a sharp pivot that caught him across the torso. Sparks lit the dark like fireflies.

Another. Then another. Valery was a storm.

She weaved between blasts of Force and saber arcs, her expression sharp and cold as the ruined chamber around them. Every step was precise. Every strike deliberate. One cultist reached out to grab her shoulder but he never made contact. Her hand snapped up, and the Force hurled him backward into a wall with bone-cracking force.

In the chaos, she glanced across the chamber toward Torin. His presence blazed steady, and their movements mirrored each other, two halves of something ancient and deadly. A scream tore from a cultist's throat as Valery cleaved his saber in two and sent him crashing into his comrades. She turned again, shoulders rising with a slow breath.

The tide wasn't stopping. Whatever they were trying to finish, it wasn't done yet.

But neither was she.

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin did not speak when the tide came.

He prayed.

Not to be spared. Not for mercy.

But for them.

The fierce green blade of his greatsaber surged into the dark, casting jagged shadows across the stone. His movements were wide, grounded, the arcs of his strikes flowing like wind through old trees. For every cultist who screamed, for every body that fell in the incense-thick air, his voice murmured beneath the din:

"May the rot in you return to soil."

A swing cleaved a staff in two — the masked cultist’s cry was brief.

"May your pain be brief, and your death be clean."

Another charge. Another step. Another fallen.

"May your spirit find the forest unafraid."

He moved not with wrath, but with sorrow. Each motion was measured, guided by memory and instinct, a guardian of the wild now forced to become its weapon.

And always, beside him, the storm: Valery. Her violet saber danced with impossible speed, her will like tempered flame. For a moment, their eyes met through the clash and smoke — a flicker of trust, of wordless accord — before the battle spun them apart once more.

Until an uneasy silence settled, and there was just one left.

The master stepped forward, stepping over bodies and rubble. He moved with unsettling grace, black-violet robes flowing like shadowmoss in deep water. In his hands: a staff saber ignited at both ends, each blade a searing red bloom.

He did not smile. He did not need to.

"You cannot stop the Umbral Bloom, Jedi," he said, voice calm now. Too calm. "Your deaths shall consecrate the next phase of its vital Work. Of her Great Work!"

Then he struck.

The staff saber spun like a wheel of flame, cutting through incense and air as he launched himself at Torin.

Their blades collided.

The shockwave cracked through the chamber, sending dust and sparks in all directions. Torin held firm, heels gouging stone as he parried the blow, then twisted to send the staff’s far blade hissing wide. The priest moved like someone who had already seen the ending. His strikes were laced with ritual precision — not brute force, but inevitability.

And then — the red saber blades parted for half a heartbeat. Lightning screamed from his free hand. Crackling bolts of violet energy tore across the chamber, lashing toward Torin’s chest with jagged hunger. The druid threw up his arm, pulling deep into the Force as he anchored himself like stone, letting the surge ripple through his center and out again, body shuddering but standing tall.

The air stank of ozone and incense. Smoke curled around them both. Torin’s cloak was scorched along one sleeve, but his grip on the saber never altered. Another clash — left, right, downward spin — the dark master pressed with twin blades and more lightning, weaving them together like a blasphemous liturgy.

Torin ducked beneath the sweeping staff, kicked the priest backward with a forceful stomp, then lunged up — saber flashing in an emerald arc — only for another bolt of lightning to meet him mid-swing. The light burst against him like a storm on rock.

Still he moved forward.

With a surge of the Force, he shoved the cultist backward, blades locked in a hiss of energy, the scent of charred stone between them.

But the battle had just begun.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery didn't wait. As Torin met the cult leader's wrath, she turned back into the fray behind them. The remaining cultists, fewer now, but desperate, rushed her in a wave of flickering red and seething fury.

It didn't matter. Her saber became a blur of light. She pivoted low beneath a wild saberstaff strike, her blade flashing up in a clean arc that cut the weapon in two and sent its wielder sprawling. A pair of acolytes came from either side, howling curses, one collapsed with a pained cry as her boot drove into his ribs, the other found his saber ripped from his grasp with a wrench of the Force.

She turned, hair fluttering with the motion, and hurled him backward into the wall. He didn't rise.

Then it was still. She stood among the fallen, breathing deep, saber humming low at her side. Only one still fought.

Torin.

She turned to face him and saw what the lightning had done. His sleeve was scorched, the air around him seething with heat and the sharp stink of ozone. Sparks leapt from stone where the Force still rippled in violent aftershock. But he held the line. One hand gripped the hilt of his saber, the other braced like a mountain resisting the sea.

The cult leader pressed him hard, spinning twin blades in a deadly rhythm, but Torin didn't yield.

Valery moved. She crossed the chamber in seconds. As Torin forced the staff wielder back a step, she slid in on the opposite side, saber snapping back into a two-handed guard. Her amber eyes met the robed figure's, and her voice rang out, clear and sharp through the haze.

"You're done."

The priest hissed between clenched teeth, robe scorched and fraying.

Torin Emberlain ​

 

[Torin Emberlain]

Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag: Valery Noble

Torin stood unmoving, his boots firm against the cracked stone, the rain of ash and echoes still falling in silence around him.

The cult leader's scream tore through the chamber — "For the Crown of Dusk!" — as he surged forward, red blades spinning, lightning arching like serpents from his hands. He came at Valery with every ounce of hate and conviction, mouth twisted in a snarl, eyes wild with zeal.

But he never reached her.

Torin moved with quiet certainty, no cry of defiance or declaration of purpose — only a single step forward, a single motion of the greatsaber in his hand. It swept through the cultist like a falling star.

There was a flash, and then stillness.

The staff-saber clattered uselessly to the floor. The body collapsed in two halves, the scream dying with it. Sparks flickered from the split weapon, mingling with the scent of burnt ozone and scorched cloth.

Torin remained where he stood, the edge of his emerald saber humming faintly in the dim. He didn’t move. His chest rose once, then again, slower — as if he were letting something go. His eyes closed. One hand came to rest over his heart, and for a moment, there was only silence. A gesture not of triumph, but mourning.

He felt the echo of the cultist’s pain ripple through the Force — misled, consumed, lost.

He recited a quiet prayer to the corpse, barely audible, a whisper offered for the passed.

Then, without ceremony, the brilliant green of his greatsaber extinguished. He turned, slowly, to Valery, his features steady, but drawn.

"…Are you alright?" he asked gently, voice low. His gaze held hers — not worried, but present, seeing her clearly amid the carnage.

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery stood still as the final echoes of the cultist's fall faded into silence. Her saber hissed softly as she shut it down, the violet blade folding into nothing. The light dimmed, leaving only the flicker of dying embers and the quiet hum of power still lingering in the walls.

She turned toward Torin, her brow lifting slightly at his question.

"Me?"

Her voice carried a dry edge, not sharp, but touched with amusement. She took a step closer, the tension in her frame beginning to ease, and tilted her head as she gave him a more thorough look.

"You just took a bolt of lightning straight to the chest, and you're asking if I'm alright?" She arched the brow higher now, arms crossing loosely in front of her. Her eyes held his, steady and warm despite the ruin around them.

"I'm fine. I wasn't the one catching Force storms like it was part of a morning workout." A pause followed, brief but thoughtful. Then her tone softened, and a small smile ghosted across her lips.

"But thank you. For worrying."

Her gaze shifted briefly to the fallen, then back to him.

"You alright?" she asked, voice quieter now.

Torin Emberlain ​