Skirmish Eclipse | Jedi vs. Sith

[Sinestra]

The golden rays of day slowly begin to fade as the sky transitions into the somber shades of dusk. An eerie chill that transcends even the cold moon sets upon the sands, as the forces of evil stalk through the shadows.

A devoted flock marches on, indifferent to the night. Jedi walk beside them, honor-bound to protect those who walk this path.

The Force guides them all to their destination.

The Temple of Kyber stands defiant to the darkness within the Holy City. Those faithful few who have maintained their beliefs in these turbulent times continue to seek the Temple. There they were promised succour from Bogan's perilous machinations—a place where those caught on the fringe of Alliance space would know peace from this neverending conflict that grips the galaxy.

Those foolish few were lied to.

For even the illustrious Temple of Kyber could not hope to impede on the Will of the Dark Side.

Or so the Dark Empire thought…

In the days leading up to this very attack, a chance encounter between the rogue Jedi Inosuke Ashina and Kyric , and an advanced force of the Dark Empire allowed the vagrant Jedi to warn Chancellor Auteme of the coming attack.

The time is upon us once more. Crimson sabers flare through the night as they descend upon the innocent, only to be met by their most ancient foe: the Jedi.

credit for write up: Kyric ​

--

MATCHUPS:
Inanna Harth vs. Smiling Ahren
Nathan Bloodscrawl vs. Astrid pentoghast
Aris Noble vs. Prowler
Raphael Gallustrade vs. Falentra
Corazona von Ascania vs. Darth Malum of House Marr
Miri Nimdok vs. Zaavik Perl
Efret Farr vs. Malva'ikh Dralidok
Romi Jade vs. Sinestra
Kyric Caltin Vanagor Darth Aion Domina Prime
Valery Noble vs. Sahar
Kaleb Sunwalker vs. Thal Mantis
Vulpesen vs. Onrai
Darth Apophion vs. Ran Serys
Sazo Vass vs Sorren Moonstrider
Darth Halitus vs. Braze
Jogon vs. Thalia Senn
Creuat vs. Silas Westgard


If there is some error to the match-up, just obviously go with whoever you've set yourself up to dance.

Have fun!

OOC thread

 

[Zaavik Perl]

oops misclick

 

[Kyric]

Jedha
NiJedha, the Holy City

To the Last Drop of Blood
Caltin Vanagor | Darth Aion | Domina Prime

Racing across the distant horizon like a bat out of hell, Her Grace made a B-Line for the Holy City. The Rogue Jedi Inosuke Ashina and Kyric Karis remained lodged in the starfighter's single-seated cockpit.

"We're approaching the city, Master Inosuke."

"How long?"

Kyric looked to BD-8, his longtime companion droid. It chirped a short series of calculations before beeping abruptly. "Sixty seconds."

"Good."

The starfighter dropped low over the darkening sands, kicking up a fast-rising cloud of smoke in its passing. Closer and closer the walls came with every passing second. Soon they stretched overhead, the final barrier between the two Jedi and their mission. The ship turned sharply skyward. It climbed upward, faster and faster, until it roared over the city like a wild beast. The cockpit flew open without warning. Inosuke and Kyric alike would feel the force of the seat push upward as the pair were ejected from Her Grace and left in a free fall over the Holy City.

"WooOOooOOhhhhOOOoOooooOO!" Kyric shouted into the night. Childlike excitement burned within his amber gaze. He studied his surroundings quickly, picking out a safe point of landing, before he shouted over to Inosuke. "Don't die, Master! I'm looking forward to another lesson!" And with one final grin, Kyric tore his attention away from his newest ally. His body fell quickly to a sloped roof. The wind licked at his body, overwhelming any trepidation he felt with a feeling of absolute freedom.

Taking a deep breath, Kyric centered himself, drawing upon the veil of power nestled deep within the Holy City. The Force came to his call with vigor. The vagabond shifted it around himself like a barrier. When it made contact with the roof, that ephemeral bubble absorbed enough force from the landing for Kyric to slide the remainder of the way down. He kicked off right before contact with the roof, hit the rooftop with a grunt, and continued forward to the edge of the building at a spirited jog.

"Let's see..." Kyric stared out over the city. "If I was mad at my parents for not loving me enough and wanted to make it everyone else's problem, where would I be?"

 

[Efret Farr]

Jedha was a vergence in the Force.

Ever since Efret read that the idea was attributed to Master Yoda in a history textbook about the Old Jedi Order she had wondered what variation he had meant.

No matter. Today would be a convergence.

Efret was here, like most of her fellow Jedi, as a pilgrim as well as to protect them, but not first and foremost. Unlike her fellows, perhaps, she had come with another objective in mind. She thought that there might be wisdom to gain from the historic legacy of the Hidden Path, wisdom that could be applied to keeping the young Jedi currently in hiding from the enemies of the New Jedi Order safe.

As the group she was with made its way to the Holy City, Jedi began splintering slowly off into the desert, each called to investigate a ripple of Darkness. One Knight encouraged her to stay the path, not that she needed him to. She was determined to avoid the conflict for as long as possible not just for the sake of the non-Jedi pilgrims travelling under their protection. Though her ongoing martial lessons with Master Valery Noble had brought back confidence in the lorrdian, it was only theoretical. Practical battle confidence would come only one way; a way she hoped wouldn't come today, but that already had its eyes on her.

She eventually made it to the Holy City and entered one of its many museums as the others continued on to the Temple of Kyber. "Hello. I'm looking for anything from the Great Purge Era about the Hidden Path," she told the anomid curator as he approached her to be of assistance.

He led her two rooms over to a long display case of artifacts. "This is what we have, Master Jedi."

"Thank you."

Post 01
Outfit + equipment; lapel translation clip (currently switched on); lightsaber (green blade color)
Malva'ikh Dralidok​

 

[Darth Aion]

The shadows of night began to hang low on the horizon.

It proved a bountiful boon in approaching the Jedha system and, in turn, the holy city itself. While perhaps the stealth capabilities of the Shikkar Corvette proved beneficial it had been the encroaching darkness that had allowed him to bring the ship as close to the surface as was required. Even then, as he stood upon a dune overlooking the city, the corvette loomed in low orbit as its systems operated to keep it hidden from those who might attempt to seek its presence. It had been Aion's choice to leave his recently acquired flagship hidden within reach of private relay; rational thought of a shattered mind well enough to acknowledge the obvious gravity of bringing a Sith warship onto the fringes of Alliance space.

The jarring sound of a start fighter careening towards the city tore the Siths attention away from the machinations of his mind. Dark, empty eyes followed the craft, the body associated with them twisting eerily like a solid black sihoutte, and observed with utter disinterest as it made purchase with its landing. It had not been the craft that he had cared about but the pulsing, radiating hum of Force energy that it carried that gripped him. Whispers ushering forth from the recesses of his mind as he watched, the void within him practically yawning as the potential for it's next cuisine presented itself. A sensation that urged the Siths feet forward haggardly, each step bringing the silhoutte down the dune.

​

As the body moved the mind delved inward, fluidly bending itself back and forth upon the whims of the whispers and shattered rationale of the host. Craving, desire and emptiness loomed within the mind of the Sith, each notion perversed by an ever gnawing hunger that had only recently been sated. He understood it, abided it and yet pressed against the whispers to proceed of his own accord. Yet even that will was not enough to prevent the urge from bringing him to the likes of Jedha. A world rife with Force energy and teeming with Force sensitive life. It was the opportune hunting ground for the hungering void within and his subconscious had failed to deny it

The procession went without notice, the Jedi guarding them but a whimsical wisp against his consciousness, as the whispers and gnaw had made their choice.

Whoever had landed in the city had now become the hunted.

Immediate tag: Kyric | Relevant tags: Caltin Vanagor & Domina Prime​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

「TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT THAT WE RUN」
| Miri Nimdok |
​

---

Whispers seethed through clenched teeth, cursing unfortunate timing. It had been less than a day since Zaavik arrived on Jedha when he felt them coming, a sharp ripple in the flux of the dark side that announced their imminence. Jedi were hardly an obstacle. He had planned for them, even relishing the opportunity to cut them down. The New Sith, on the other hand, were an entirely unforeseen detriment. Did Zaavik and these interlopers share a mutual goal? Probably. Could they be powerful allies? Unquestionably. Disillusion with an organized host united in the force, regardless of alignment, brewed an obstinate edge. They'll only get in the way, Zaavik reminded himself. As was the all too frequent wont of every would-be cooperator.

Springing upward from his hold, Zaavik reached for the next imperfection in the Temple of the Kyber's eastern face. His fingers caught the brim, sending a trickle of sand to blow away in the evening wind. Black boots dangled in the air, settling gradually to find precarious footing against the sandstone. Scale was the only thing obscuring him from the incoming Dark Empire dropships and the vigilant Jedi sentinels below. Against the Temple of the Kyber's prodigious silhouette, Zaavik was hardly a speck. A twin effort concealed the bulk of his force presence, forcing his climb into a far less efficient endeavor than had his attention not been divided.

Sweat beaded upon the vermillion skin on his brow, rolling down to disperse on the short, twin tresses that crowned magmatic eyes. Another vault skyward, this time with a blatant twinge of the Force, brought him level with his target aperture. Swinging from his handholds, Zaavik released and soared through, landing with a deft roll into an upper floor of the temple. As he rose to his feet, the droid mounted on his shoulder unfolded at the subtle whim of its master. The three fins around its optical sensor glowed a sinister crimson, windmilling and oscillating as it zeroed in on a pre-programmed signature.

Soon, a familiar presence entered the air like a bad stench. One could hardly put his finger on, but it was evident that even on this floor, he wasn't alone. A notion through the Force interfaced with his droid, changing its objective to this familiar presence. Sensor fins flapped several times, opening and closing like a flower through a day cycle. Finally, it locked onto the signature before returning to its oscillation, the sensor pointing toward the source of the presence like the needle in a compass.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

Spoiler: WEAPONS

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)
The late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt

Spoiler: RIDES

Starship: Spectre, (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay,

Spoiler: SANCTUARY

Sanctuary Island

​

LOCATION: NiJedha | OBJECTIVE: Follow the Force | POST #: 1
TAG (ALLIES) : Kyric | Valery Noble
TAG (FOES) : Domina Prime | Darth Aion​

[media]

A lone speederbike was screaming through the desert sands, silica and dust were indeed shooting out behind it in the exhaust and the thrust being created, but remarkably little compared to others. Overhead a starfighter flew by in erratic (or so it would appear to a layman, someone with experience in the box would know not to be the case. The sudden climb into the sky and loss of occupants… wait… 2… that fighter looked single seated? Wow tight fit…

Focus

… the two occupants in a controlled free-fall pinpointed exactly where the rider was being pulled to. Revving the engine and kicking up the speed, it was that rider’s decision to “catch up.” The individual on the bike flew in on his own ship, sure, but the skies would be lit up with ships and weapons fire, if everyone made their way to the holy city. So he took a trick he had learned from the Republic Forces so long ago. Landing a good distance away and trekking in “under the radar” so to speak.

It was when the bike pulled to a stop right next to the base of the elevation that would lead to the Kyber Temple did our rider pull his helmet off and reveal the worst kept secret in this skirmish. It was Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor.

Securing his webgear and lightsaber Caltin was still under the trance initiated by his with Chrysothemis Atreirdes Vanagor that shut down his emotions but he was still fully aware and able. His plan was simple , it was to get to the Temple and throw any Sith off of the mountain who would dare threaten this piece and place of history. Certainly speaking those who live in the past will always watch the present pass them by, but there is also the need to protect and learn from it as well. He understood this, probably better than pretty much anyone on the planet, save @Valery Noble… which by the way, he stopped for a moment activated his comm-link,

[I’m coming up the back end of the Temple the hard way.Just an FYI.]

He did not contact the Grandmaster or the NJO for her to come rescue him, or anything, merely just an idea of who was where. He could sense the presence of several auras in the city. Caltin could also sense another, FAR more powerful sense of the Dark Side stalking the young Light. This was a problem that he would not and could not igmore, so it was more and more work to change arcs. The big man was going hard and up until he would get to the point where he could plant his footing and run into the city. If there were innocents still there, then it would be a mistake the Sith would be around long enough to realize, let alone regret.

​

​

​

​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

There was a sudden loud pop as Zaavik and his droid neared one of the windows of the seventh floor. Cracks spiderwebbed across the transparisteel pane, a hole blasted through layers of blasterproof material. The center, disintegrated. A disruptor beam had burned it away.

Miri stood within the Temple, wild-haired and spiteful, a rifle in her hands. She was already taking aim again, her finger pulling the trigger, intent on annihilating the droid. Not because she had any particular beef with its master—from her angle, she couldn't see Zaavik and had no idea who the droid was scouting for—but simply because it was working for a Dark Sider.

This was all she was these days. A mercenary hell-bent on killing as many Sith as possible. They’d taken everything from her, so she was simply returning the favor. Maybe for the enemy this little raid on Jedha was a special occasion. For her, it was just another Taungsday.

Zaavik Perl​

 

[Kyric]

You're being hunted.

The hairs on the back of Kyric's neck stood on end the instant the thought crossed his mind. He turned from the greater city to a distant point within the desert that swam with hunger. A fervent need to feast pressed down on the kiffar's mind. The boy focused his thoughts on that point, pushing past the voracious whisperings on the edges of his mind. It was impossible to make out the living wraith as it drifted closer to the city, but Kyric could feel it as keenly as he knew it could feel him.

This isn't good.

This is the furthest from good you could be.

Kyric considered his surroundings for a moment. The Holy City was home to enough innocents that any sort of extended skirmish would lead to countless deaths. He had to trust the other Jedi in the city knew the stakes. They never changed.

"BD," the kiffar spoke into his communicator. "The situation is worse than we thought. I can feel a whole lotta bad out there, but we're lucky," his gaze shifted to the familiar aura on the other side of the temple. "It looks like we weren't the only ones drawn to this place. Keep an open frequency. If anyone wants to lend a helping hand, well, we'd be damned fools to turn 'em down."

The droid chirped back his acknowledgment.

Alright, let's go find the Big Man. I gotta feelin' things are about to get a helluva lot more difficult. Kyric scanned his immediate surroundings for an easy path to circumvent the streets.

A lower rooftop nearby proved the most fruitful. He took a few steps back before dashing forward off the roof. The kiffar hit the next building quickly. He rolled onto his feet, dashed toward the opposite edge of the roof, and leaped up for a balcony across the street. He soared through open air and caught hold of a thin stone lip on the exterior railing. Thankfully, his grip was strong from years of chopping wood back on the Treicolt Homestead. He scurried over the railing and kicked off onto the roof.

"Okay," Kyric huffed. "One down..." he counted the rooftops between him and the temple. "Eight to go..... super..."

He lowered his head and continued.

We Them Boys: Caltin Vanagor
The OPposition: Darth Aion | Domina Prime

 

[Zaavik Perl]

A pang of danger preceded the disruptor fire by mere milliseconds. Zaavik's utility droid snapped its optical sensor toward the source of the disruptor fire, alerted by the artificial force bond with its user. Its sensor fins circulated in overdrive, attempting to activate its onboard personal shield generation. It was too late, flash and sparks erupted over Zaavik's shoulder, leaving the half-disintegrated droid to fall, hanging limp from its shoulder mount.

As the second shot was fired, Zaavik surged forward and rounded an archway to come face-to-face with his assailant. Her face had a familiar edge, but similar to her force-presence, Zaavik couldn't place it. Quickly retrieving the hilt of his dual-bladed saber, he ignited the primary side to reveal a single, undulating crimson blade. A few drops of excess plasma dripped from the opposite side, singing small craters into the sandstone floor before burning out.

"Wrong place, wrong time," Zaavik remarked, speaking as if he didn't know her after all. A small glance toward his flaccid droid followed. "Now with a blood debt." With a slight grin, he clicked his tongue with mocking disappointment. "Picked a bad day for sightseeing, huh?"

Miri Nimdok ​

 

[Inosuke Ashina]

There was a sudden, otherworldy urgency just before Ashina was ejected from Her Grace's cockpit. Before he knew it, he was airborne. Not sharing Kyric 's enthusiasm for the fall, Inosuke remained silent, turning over in the air once, influencing his trajectory to a safe landing.

"Don't die, Master! I'm looking forward to another lesson!"

"Practice caution," Inosuke stressed. He spoke just loud enough to be heard during Kyric's departure. The master already picked up a notion of imminent despair radiating from the young rogue's being. He doubted he could meddle if he tried, thus allowing him onward without objection. There would be another meeting, Ashina could feel it, though what state the coming tribulation would leave either of them in was clouded by the dark side.

Unclouded, however, was the Blade of the Meek's eternal charge. Inosuke dropped into the streets, igniting his saber to draw a cauterized line on the ground between the wider city, and ingress for their coming enemy. One one side, life. On the other, a swift, plasmatic death. The choice was theirs. Ashina waited.

 

[Vulpesen]

Moving along with the pilgrims' caravan, Vulpesen kept his ears and eyes open for trouble, as well as any other senses that might warn him of trouble. Of course, the further they travelled, the more his fellow defenders would split off from their duties as an escort, each one going to investigate some form of trouble. Eventually, it would be his turn, a sudden foreboding sense washing over him like a chill in the currents of a river. "Garlan!" he called out to the captain of his guard, the Zorren soldier turning away from a conversation with one of the pilgrims.

"Boss!"

"Keep on track. Keep them safe." Waiting only long enough to accept a salute from the captain, Vulpesen turned off the path, pulling his saber from his hip. There was a predator coming for the flock, and like any good Zorren, he would paly the part of the guard dog. "C'mon out!" he growled to the darkness, the unlit weapon twirling in his hand. "Only polite that we introduce ourselves before we get to it."

Onrai

 

[Sorren Moonstrider]

The frosted air of the day had given way into the bitter, frigid night when the city came alive, electric with anxiety as those who knew what was on the wind braced themselves. But deep in the night, those in need of the Light feared not, for it shined brightest in the blackest of nights. The procession of Ashla's faithful and their Jedi guardians moved unshaken in their righteousness. Let the Sith come, they said. Jedha had survived the horrors of the last war, and every war before. The Empire could not scare them by aligning itself with the Sith, for the fall to the Darkside was a long and painful one in the eyes of the Jedi, one that never ended in victory.

Deep out in the night, from a side street along the parade of believers, comes a cry.

"Praise be the light! Help me, please! Is there no beneficence in the galaxy anymore?" an ailing and meager man's voice cut through the night to the ears of a Jedi. Young and hopeful, with love in her heart, a knight hears the cry, and wills it so that not a soul in need will be left to the wolves tonight if it can be helped. She breaks from the sidelines of the march, delving into the darkness. The blue glow of her lightsaber illuminates the street as though a beacon, her symbol as a warrior of the Jedi and protector of the people.

A block further down the crowded adobe tenements she sees a huddled body in the moonlight.

"I just... need some help." the man speaks again, distraught as if nobody cared for his plight. In the holy city of the Jedi, how could anyone be allowed to live vulnerable in the streets?

The Jedi approaches the man, who looks up and sees her saber glowing. There is a strange look on his face as his eyes lock to the blade, his face illuminated to her by its glow. It hums between them in the silence for just a moment, and she turns it off.

"I am sorry if my weapon scares you. My master says we must be careful about when we draw our blades without needing to. I supposes the moonlight will suffice." the young woman offers a hand down to the man, smiling though he cannot quite make out her face now.

His hand reaches gingerly for hers, trembling as they clasp. The man hesitates to stand.

"Come join us on our way to the temple. There will be warmth and light for all who need it. You will be safe."

"Safe. Yes, your blade does not scare me miss. It will keep me safe."

As the Jedi tugged her hand back and the man gripped tight and they pulled him to his feet, his other hand came up from his side, reaching to her for stability as he righted himself. For a brief moment, the street was lit up in the ghostly pale light of a white saber plunged upwards through the woman's chest. Choked with shock, she made nothing but a desperate wheeze as she fell to the sandstone, the moonlight taking over again as the blade retracts into darkness.

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

Standing over my fresh kill, my first, it tastes as sweet as I was promised. The power of the Darkside pumps in my veins, makes my heart race andmy blood boil, but its good. Lord Vinaze had told me the feeling of power I would get as I asserted the value of my life over the Jedi's. How naive were the Jedi? Blind from their stupid need to help the sheep that they can't even see the wolf. As I take the lightsaber from her cooling hand, I crack open the crystal chamber, the bright azure shimmering in its own right now. But I can't take it here. This kill is one of many tonight, and though I've proven myself a hunter, there are hunters after me all the same.

With two blades I will ensure my safety, and getting off this backwater world will bring me one step closer to my true initiation as a Sith. Lord Vinaze awaits my return with the Jedi crystal, the first test of my strength in the Darkside waiting to be overcome: bleeding a crystal. The Imperial Knights took many of our kybers from fallen Sith, crystals that had themselves been bled, then neutralized to draw the power of the Force back to a balance. Otherwise our white crystals had been created synthetically. Neither was suited to bleeding, to pervert the Light within a crystal to the subservience of the Dark required a true Jedi's weapon. And now I held one.

I left the body of the Jedi knight alone in the darkness, running off into the shadows. My nerves were running high. I'd actually done it, I had killed another person. There was an excitement in me that I'd never felt before, a strange dissonance of pride and fear of getting caught. Which I knew I would be soon enough leaving a corpse to rot in the street. But maybe, getting caught by the Jedi is just what a boy needs sometimes. What better way to start corrupting my new blade than to run into another Jedi to turn it against?

Sazo Vass

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Jedi Jumpsuit (Black)

Armed With: Nathan's Saberstaff, Gun-Works DMR



It was going to be a difficult day. Just how difficult, Nathan didn't know, because he was too busy being a Padawan fighting for survival through the streets as he fended off a Powerful Marauder using his staff and Form 3.

He was driven backward, being very careful to look only intermediately skilled. Enough to fend off his opponent for a relatively short time. He let himself be pushed backward into a street of the Holy City, their blades slicing through goods as he parried ruthless, heavy Djem So vertical attacks.

He felt his throat tightening and concentrated, flinging a sharp piece of debris at the armored Sith's head, right in the visor. He was in full alchemized gear. His blades hadn't done anything to the plating what few times he had managed to make contact. The object didn't penetrate but impacted with enough force to snap the Sith's head back, staggering him, dropping Nathan from the Force Choke attempt.

He was going to have to get creative. But this time something else other than necessity drove him. He had new motivation.

He had a family to get back to.

It made every fight more life or death, more personal. He noticed he was more careful than usual, he took less risks.

He had so much at stake. So much to lose.

Angry red flashes meeting blue bars lit the buildings in their fight. Again and again he was driven back. He backflipped away from a strike then lunged at a gap in the joints.

Only sparks. The undersuit was alchemized as well.

Chit.

Nathan was barely able to dodge the counter swipe, the Sith's frustration and perhaps suspicion growing every second.

Nathan was now back on defense, staff spinning and shunting aside the red blade constantly.

As he back flipped out of the strike, he Force Pulled a Detonator to his hand and clicked it.

Camouflaged Sonic turrets hidden in junk piles sprang up and directed powerful, continuous sound waves at the Sith, who screamed as his Brain was vibrated violently inside his helmet as he fell to his knees, roaring in pain. Blood leaked out of his eyes and mouth and nose and he started vomiting inside his helmet.

Nathan did nothing as the Sith drowned inside his own helmet, choking violently until he lost air.

The turrets began smoking. Hastily assembled traps, they had never been expected to last more than a few uses in the field. They soon caught fire.

This was a bad night. The Force told him he would be tested. Tested harshly. Nathan didn't even bother reacting to what the Cruel Boss whispered in his sleep anymore.

He checked the body. Dead. His blade sliced the Sith's in half and he headed back through the streets, looking for targets of opportunity...



Astrid pentoghast

 

[Prowler]

Location: Jedha Temple grounds.
Objective: Spy and assassinate.
Foe: Aris Noble


The dark gaseous moved idly, its essence swirling and undulating with an eerie fluidity. Its presence almost imperceptible, blending seamlessly with the darkness that envelops the ancient city. Moving from shadow to shadow. Despite its nebulous form, it moves with purpose, its silent movements portraying a keen intelligence and sinister intent. Slinking through the winding alleys and crowded streets of Jedha, its gaze fixed upon the distant glow of the temple grounds. There, amidst the ruins of the once-majestic temple, pilgrims and Jedi alike gather, their voices hushed in reverence as they pay homage to the sacred site and discuss "Jedi business" That was what Prowler called it after all.

They may know what is to come.

Prowler observes the Jedi sentries with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. Watching their every move, studying their behaviors and interactions with a detached intensity. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

He found the opening he was looking for and struck. Slinking to the floor, a personal shadow that mimicked the movements of the men above, Prowler's red flashed red in his form and from the ground gaseous black tendrils climbed up the men and telekinetically slammed them to the floor with a swift violent pull. THUD

Looking around, Prowler inspected the area before blitzing into another shadow. One that was cast by a ornate pillar.

 

[Onrai]

Vulpesen

A familiar form stepped from the foliage - black-robed, blonde, and carrying a rifle guaranteed to get her target's attention in her hands. She looked at Vulpesen and gave him a smirk, saying nothing before raising the gun and firing a poisoned particle beam directly at the Jedi. If it had been good enough to get rid of Alexandra Feanor once upon a time, perhaps it would be easy enough to do the same.

So she hoped, at least. After all, she didn't have to worry about the ever more irradiated environment.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's hand snapped up as the rifle was leveled at him, taking the first blast into his palm. As far as introductions went, Onrai's was decidedly unfriendly. That fact only became more apparent as Vulpesen began to absorb the energy, his eyes widening as it coursed through him. Radiation. With a growl, the Valde altered the current of the force, committing the slight change that would keep him alive. He'd already been planning to absorb energy, and radiation was simply a different brand than what he had in mind.

"Rude." He'd come forward willing to talk. But now, his saber ignited, the blade rising out to reveal the stark contrast of black and gold. Then his mouth reopened, and while there were no words, there was certainly a level of communication. "HOOOOWWWWWLL!" The concussive blast that issued from his throat was aimed directly at the rifle toting sith, aiming to blast her into pieces in revenge for rude trickery of her greeting.

Onrai

 

[Darth Aion]

Time dilated as the gnaw persisted.

Step. Step. Step. Each as heavy as the last the only conscious thought coursing through shattered cognition was the insatiable gnaw. What had once been a cognizant comprehensible craving for purpose, for recognition, now culminated into a twisted and incomprehensible hunger. A hunger that now chafed his very body that pressed across the sands and through the main archways of the holy city's walls. While others about the city had begun to engage their adversaries, a conflict that would have once brought palpitations to the ancient Sith's heart, time fell inconsequential in dilation and the Sith found himself standing amidst a trio of dead civilians that had crossed his path.

With his conscious thought returning amidst the flow of new life into his core, into the void that threatened to consume even him, eyes that were once hollow began to glow with a faint red hue. A red hue that scanned the surrounding city and its streets as a panic had already begun to ensue. Pilgrims scattered about the streets as they sought shelter from the coming storm, the Jedi protectors that stood between him and them nothing more than a paltry side piece to those he felt littered pockets of the city. While the hunger fixated itself on the essence he had sensed upon his arrival rational thought knew he would have to challenge himself to reach it.

​

As one Jedi closed the distance between themselves and his silhouette like form, their lightsaber burning a bright yellow streak across the murky night air, he made no clear effort to move. For it was when the blade came its closest to meeting it's mark, the heat of the blade careening towards his shoulder, the Sith's hand shot up in an alarming fashion to palm and bar the saber, molten slag falling from the beam as it strained against it's hindrance. As seconds passed, the slag turning the sand it struck to glass, a look of disbelief washed over the Jedi's face as the Sith's free hand rose to the gap between them; accompanied by an inhuman twitch of the silhouettes head as its red orbs stared the Jedi down.

And then, with a rapid and unceremonious haste through a flury of ghost like red tendrils, the Jedi began to buckle and stagger. Their skin graying as the light in their eyes slowly faded into glassy nothingness mere moments before the luminous yellow vanished with the crumpling form of a lifeless husk. A husk that was callously stepped over as the silhouette pressed onwards, leaving its victims where they lay without even the slightest of recognition before bringing the very same fate to two other Jedi and numerous pilgrims as it practically blazed it's way through the streets towards it's prey. Perhaps had the circumstances been different the Sith might have stopped to revel in this revelry, but only one goal stood apparent.

One that quickly became subject to question as a new, more refined presence made itself known from the cliffs behind it. Ancient in its flare, carrying the same presence of control and esteem as those he had faced so many centuries ago before his fall; his spiral into the abyss that now presently consumed him as his rational mind clung tightly to the hunger to fuel itself as it pushed further into the Jedi's holy city.

There were few who could comprehend the whispering machinations within it's mind. His mind. And even those who did likely dared not wish to.

Immediate tag: Kyric & Caltin Vanagor | Relevant: Domina Prime​

 

[Onrai]

The howl was not unexpected - it was the same thing she had heard after the radiation from the gun she was holding had shot Alexandra Feanor, before of course she had rushed to make a particularly frisky escape. She leapt to the side, rolling before firing off several short bursts not just at Vulpesen himself, but also around him. So - he was able to take some radiation that would've killed a man and caused his cells to degrade? It was time to pump up the heat.

Any of the shots that hit the forest floor in front of or around him would not only spray a great deal of hot dirt and grime up towards the man's face, but would only further coat him in lethal radiation-emitting particles. This would have to be the plan - irradiate him so thoroughly he would be forced to constantly focus on absorbing the energy of the radiation, rendering him unable to focus on other such abilities and giving her an advantage, lest he lose focus. Her current state did offer her some advantages against sensory or circulatory-based responses, which would allow her to use tools with less personal risk were their use to go wrong.

And in the worst case, she would be forced to revert to more esoteric weapons - or perhaps the Anti-Force, though she didn't want to expose such to one like this.

"Come now, Vulpesen , you can do better than this."

 

[Vulpesen]

Objective: Don't go bald... or die.
Enemies: Sith | Onrai
Allies: Jedi
Loadout: Battlefield

Having given himself a bit of breathing room with his howl, Vulpesen joined Onrai in her dive away from their initial meeting spot, albeit in a different direction. Pressing his back to a nearby tree, he raised his arms, causing the earth to rise up as an additional widening to his natural shield. He felt sick, and he could swear he saw fur falling from his tail when he jumped. Hopefully that was just his imagination. Still, he'd absorbed enough of the radiation with the force, converting it into benign power for himself before it could start tearing apart his organs, that he knew he'd survive the immediate combat. Assuming of course, she didn't hit him again.

Her taunting as well as the pelting on stone and dirt was far from music to his sensitive ears, and he thudded the back of his head against the tree while putting on his mask. "Gimme a break! Ain't as young as I once was!" On the bright side, he could feel the force energy swirling in his gut and growing stronger as he converted more and more of the radiation that was trying to creep into his system. "And you cheated!" It was challenge, banter, then murder your opponent. How dare she defy the etiquette of violence so brazenly!?

Still, he couldn't remain there for long. She'd get wise and change positions. Or who knows, maybe manage to blow his cover all to bits. It was time to start some fireworks of his own. Reaching down to his belt, Vulpesen plucked one of the grenades from it, his fingers dancing around to quickly set one of the dials. Thankfully, it was one of the ones he'd already set up for impact, removing some need for time consuming fiddling. Then with a short toss and a pointed thumb, Vulpesen directed the explosive with a powerful telekinetic shot. The grenade launched forward with a supersonic crack as it dove to Onrai's feet. Upon impact, the sphere would release an electromagnetic blast, frying any electronics nearby, which would hopefully include the infernal blaster that was pinning him to the tree.