Posted 27 January 2019 - 02:26 PM
Posted 28 January 2019 - 06:11 AM
Objective: Learn more about Winter
Equipment: Lightsaber, staff (doesn't do anything), concealed dagger
The choice was an easy one. Fawn went the path of the candle, snapping her fingers to end up in a thumbs-up gesture with a flame emitting from the tip of her thumb. It wasn't necessary in the slightest, but if she didn't entertain herself once in a while, who else would?
It wasn't the first time her mind was carried to another plane of existence, but it was the first time her body had come along with it. The first thing she noticed was the white and the cold. She hid her torso inside her coat and strained her eyes against the bright white all around her. Snowflakes whirred with the direction of the wind and began covering her clothes and hair in snow, just like everything else in that world.
Holding out her wooden staff in front of her, she planted it in the snow as deep as she could, grimacing at the depths she ended up hitting. It was good that she packed light enough not to fall straight to the surface, wherever that was. She picked one foot up and moved it forward in a fashion that vaguely resembled walking, though nothing so graceful as that could be seen on that day. In front of her, she could see someone with a head of long red hair, someone she had briefly seen just before taking the path.
Although she didn't seem to have any reason to do so, she glanced from side to side to make sure there was nobody else nearby just yet. It wasn't yet known what this place did to people. Perhaps some were driven mad, perhaps other things took the forms of them. Nothing was certain just yet, and her eyes remained that of a skeptic's as she trailed quietly behind.
Edited by Fawn Alzi, 28 January 2019 - 06:16 AM.
Posted 28 January 2019 - 07:16 AM
Theme: Well now they know
Taramaz noticed a man in the corner, he had two bags, he recognised them as a favourite for transporting gear in colder weather. His mask's HUD pulled up a profile on him, as soon as it saw his face.
Name: Ithiel Verd
Aliases: Ithiel Vi'Dreya
Heritage: Isley Verd (Patriarch) | Vesphira So'Kil
Criminal Record: N/A
The flash of information drew so much of his concentration, he barely noticed the archivists' protection. Nothing he needed, all a man needed to get through anything was a bottle of Hickie Doniels' whiskey, determination, a cause, and rage. All four he possessed, the most important tucked into his survival kit, which held a medpac, cloak to keep the cold out, re-breather, butterfly knife, multi tool, rations, and emergency water filter. Made of a flame-retardant leather, of course. He started walking towards the man, his rifle attached to his back via the magnetic grip. When he got close enough, his helmet pulled back on itself, the information on the man before him disappearing. The mask's plates pulled back, and shows off the scars on the eight foot mans face.
He had one from the top right to bottom left from Aikhibba, and a scar on his cheek from Triffis. He had a purple eye, and a red eye, both real. He then held his hand out to man hug Ithiel, another Knights Obsidian member, and a Vi'Dreya, one of the Vicelord's children. He was six foot four, noticeably shorter than the tall, eight foot executor, by about two feet. So he went a bit lower for the man hug.
A simple greeting, but a greeting nonetheless. He supposed that if he should be going to an almost certain death, he may aswell get a friend to make sure everybody else got back safely. Besides, if he made it out... all the better. He sat down next to the man after giving him a quick look over. He pulled out a syringe with a weird coloured liquid in it, the liquid looked sludgy, and it couldn't be described by a colour, he injected it into himself, a cure for the disease of Aikhibba, usually he'd have already injected it, but he was trying to conserve it. It was his late five syringes, and last weak of it, he didn't need as much. Either way, he put the syringe back, and closed his kit/backpack, then looked over at Ithiel Vi'Dreya, and at the two bags. They were a favourite choice for storing things in colder weather.
"Gear for the mission? knives, blankets, and a shelter kit? and some thermal gear? a nice pick. I've got something similar. Though no real thermal gear. I've got a cloak in my kit, that's about it. Need any help getting those into the other dimension?"
He didn't wait for an answer, and just grabbed a bag, then grabbed the tear portal machine, and pressed it, a tear formed, and rolled from his right eye, the red one. And he disappeared.
Edited by Taramaz Laurs, 11 February 2019 - 06:34 AM.
"I don't need an Iron Man Suit, I know who I am." - Robert Downey Jr.
Posted 29 January 2019 - 07:28 AM
Not doing things halfway. Ithiel gave Tamaraz a full-bodied armored hug back, then a slap on the back. A brother going to battle against hell knows what, who knows where for people that he’d never met, who knows if they were coming back? The syringe got a look from him, he was going to say something but the other guy spoke first.
Stepping up. Click. ssssstttt The candle was lit by the tech. With that, Ithiel wasn't there anymore. One kitbag in one hand, one set of communicators in another, and a candle in his teeth.
Snow. Lots and Lots of snow. Knee deep and already feeling the chill.
NPCs: One Mandalorian Tech
Posted 29 January 2019 - 10:08 PM
"Dang hearing aid actin' up again."
The man shrugged bowed and stooped shoulders, the plaid robe wavering with the small movement, making his way toward the trolley. His cane tapped heavily as though his ancient frame held more girth then senses could find. The pop bottle thick glasses gave his eyes the appearance that they were four times their normal size. And there was no hiding their rapt attention on the buxom woman who disappeared in a flash followed by the tall drink of water with eyes of the Atrisian who equally fizzled from existence.
"Well now, Peen-Too to the rescue."
He raised an aged and wrinkled hand to flatten down the whisps of white hair that lay disheveled like a crown upon his head, easily evading the bald patch littered with age spots. Joining the line he received his candle and two pieces of machinery. Casting a runny eye upon the machinery he slipped them into the pocket of his robe and fished out an item. Cinching the belt of the robe tight he slipped the silver cylinder underneath with a shaky pat.
"Back in my day when we lit candles, incense, and chanted we also had the decency to puff puff then pass."
With a mutter of young whippersnappers he lit his candle and found his flip-flops slipping slightly on the iced over stone as the afterimage of a strapping young man with several knives and no hair vanished. Peen-Too had arrived in a whole new world with a new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or even where to go,or say we were only dreaming. He smiled even as a light wind blew the ends of the robe around painfully thin legs guarded by the knee high, white tube socks.
Leaning against the cane he caught his breath as he remembered what he was doing.
Scherezade deWinter I Fawn Alzi I Kurenai Yumi I Nine Lives I Ithiel Vi'Dreya I Asher Mossa I @A'Runda I Rhaina Tira I Darth Tacitus I Taramaz Laurs
Posted 30 January 2019 - 11:04 PM
- Knights Obsidian Conference Chamber
Geonosis, Confederacy of Independent Systems
The Archivists wasted no time bestowing their protection upon the group. The spells were unfamiliar to the Reaper and he concluded that they were probably Dathomiri in nature, perhaps derived from the spirits that the Mandragora bound themselves to. They were powerful, these spells. He could feel that. Would they be enough? They were all treading uncharted land, here, beyond the edges of the map.
No, not uncharted. Another group had discovered this world before them and had made it its own. Better safe, than sorry.
As the Archivists finished their spell, the Necromancer removed the glove on his left hand. Deep scars marred the rough skin of his palm, some still pink and fresh, some where his claws pierced his hand when he clenched his fists, others long and perpendicular to them, where the flesh had been sliced open.
His right hand raised and he hooked a finger, drawing a claw across his palm, cutting deep as he murmured the words. A chill that was not cold swept into the room, bringing with it the whispers of the dead. Blood pooled into his hand as he brought the claw down again, cutting vertically into his forearm, opening a long gash from wrist to elbow. The whispers continued and the crimson blood turned black and sizzled as it hit the floor beneath his feet. Shapes danced around him, the ephemeral wraiths of the dead, their ghostly fingers weaving threads of shadow. It was an old spell, passed down to him by the Anubian priests which followed him. He commanded and the dead answered his call.
The wraiths moved from person to person, gliding across the floor as they wove their invisible veil, adding another layer of protection to the group that should combine with the Archivists' spell to extend their mystical shield's lifespan by at least half a day.
Then, he brought the candle up, lit it and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the first thing he noticed was the bitter teeth of biting cold, just like another place he knew that was called Winter. One which had once been home and which his own fleets had turned into a lifeless ball of glass.
That was then. This was now. Fingers tightened around the hilt, a cold and lifeless hiss announced that his dreadful longsword had left its scabbard, the dull gray metal gleaming in the light.
Edited by Darth Tacitus, 31 January 2019 - 12:14 PM.
Posted 31 January 2019 - 04:53 AM
As Nine went through icy pathways, waiting for enemies to jump out. None did. Maybe they were sizing her up. For cannibalism or sacrifice, or sacrifice AND cannibalism. Wouldn't that just be a lovely one-two combo?
The eerie silence as she walked through it reminded her of the calm before the storm at Shojo's necropolis, where immediately after her 'birth' as a new type of vampire, Nine had begun a homicidal rampage through it during her escape. It had been quiet, and cold, just like this place had been, before Shojo's servants, toadies, and sycophants who had played a part in tormenting her as much as Sawa had got the bright idea to stop her.
Even with the horrible emotional torment she had been going through at the time, realizing she had been turned into the very kind of thing she had killed her mother for being, she had still had just enough Jedi left in her to offer them one, precisely one opportunity to walk away. To her then-delight...they had refused.
What happened next was like the last fifteen minutes of all those really cheesy sword fighting films she had seen as a child (she had rolled her eyes at their lack of realism) except it had seemed Reality had wanted to play all those tropes totally straight. There had been geysers of blood. Severed limbs, the works! A century of torture and humiliation came tumbling out in deadly strikes and bitten necks and beheadings.
It had been cathartic, but had also been the moment Ni-Ne Lives had died, really died, and all that was left was vampire that drank thought instead of blood, but was somehow no less bloodthirsty when angered. And she had been very bloodthirsty that day.
A flicker from the corner of the Arch Psy-Pire's eye, brought her dark blue lightsaber blade out of the recesses of its hilt and she rammed it brutally into the figure of a cultist armed with a scythe, as another dropped from a hidden opening on the ceiling and brought down a double headed battle axe aimed for her skull, but Nine was faster, shifting forward and bringing her lightsaber to bare,
It was so strange, holding one again, as the plasma blade flashed through the shaft of the axe after ripping itself away from its first victim, side stepping the quickly falling weapon, grabbing it by whatever was left of the shaft still under the axe blade, and let it savagely bite into the cultists shoulder. He was the standard fare...dark leather armor, a few strange symbols stitched into the fabric underneath and, of course that fanatical yet controlled look in eyes of pure crazy. And bald. Nine had never understood the fascination with shaving the hair off to show one's allegiance to the Dark. It just ended up making them all look like supervillains and, if anything, cheapened the intent. They could have at least put fancy, evil symbols on the head. Would have been festive, if nothing else.
Nine pulled off her helmet, her black fangs snaking out as she attempted to bite him to get his memories...but nothing came. It seemed she could not eat memories here...
Nine snarled, moving away from his neck, and instead held that saber of hers close to his face, her obsidian black eyes, a glint of purple light at the center of those eyeballs fixed on him.
"The children. I am taking them home." she snarled. "You will help me, or you will learn to dread lightsabers all over again. I'll turn your skin into grease, cultist."
"I...I know where some of them are..." he whispered, eyes on the lightsaber the entire time. "We put some of them in a temple located in a grove not far from here. But...we anticipated a rescue...thats why we stuck them there..."
"What's so special about it?" Nine asked.
"It's where the Fountain Beast resides..."
"I can't!" The cultist hissed in panic. "The others will kill me!"
"Motherfether, I'll kill you!!!" Nine snarled, scorching his shoulder, "I'll just be slower about it!"
"Alright! Alright! But there are scouts, no way you'll reach it without being spotted!" the cultist cried out.
"Excellent..." Nine replied lifting him up by the neck. "More of your friends to stab!"
She dropped him, kicked him in the rear end and gave the lightsaber a swoosh to let him know she would literally tear him a new one with it if he didn't hurry up with leading her to an exit and to at least some of the captured children.
"What's this 'Fountain Beast' you mentioned?" Nine grumbled as he led her into a darkened chamber. Her force senses went alert at the intent to kill her all around. The great chamber's unholy torches sprang with a purple fire, highlighting various cultists, armed with vibroswords and blasters.
The cultist who had been leading her turned and smirked. "You're done, Vampire."
Nine narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'm not just going to tear you a new one. I'm going to tear you two new ones..." she growled as the first of the chamber of warriors charged at her. Her stance went into a form two open, the lightsaber held a little apart from the body pointing downward.
"I wish I'd brought sunglasses..." she muttered under her breath as she parried and whirled around the attacks of three different men, dancing in between them and downing them with swift, one handed power strikes. Her lightsaber style was a hybrid style of Form Two and Form Six, with her knowledge of the Katana supplementing it. It was quite deadly, and if after five hundred years you still could not figure a lightsaber niche, you deserved to be defeated. Nine had sworn it off out of shame at her own nature once, but the eerie way it had all come flooding back to her after Bobbi's death had surprised her. Some things really were like riding a bike, she guessed.
Nine raised her blade in challenge and dashed forward at the screaming cultists who charged right back...
Posted 31 January 2019 - 02:01 PM
Location: Geonosis -> Winter
Objective: Travel Between Worlds
After the Tusken listened to Madalena he nodded along, it was true, even though the mission was rather hard he didn't give up. Now that he was all signed up and ready for the mission before him. He suddenly felt an odd warmness as some kind of protection was cast on him from the other archivists. It wasn't that it was bad, he just didn't expect it.
Gathering up the necessary gear for traveling into this other world, A'Runda felt like for once his over dressed nature would come in handy since he was covered head to toe against the cold weather that he assumed as ahead. Unsure of which of the methods to go by, Candle, tear, blood. I didn't think he wanted to do whatever involved blood. Candle seemed a little complex. Looking around the room some more people had already begun disappearing. Adding to some imaginary stress that he was going to be left behind.
It also wasn't like he had anyone to hug before he was departing the dimension that was his home. Eventually he decided and picked up the tear machine. Unsure how it really worked he activated it. Then felt one of his eyes get all watery from behind his ready tinted lens. After he felt a single tear he spoke to himself. "Woah, that's-" Then before he knew it he was in a frozen tundra of sorts, that's at least what he thought it was.
"Really weird..." He finished what was very much being his first trans-dimensional sentence.
Edited by A'Runda, 31 January 2019 - 02:03 PM.
Posted 31 January 2019 - 03:41 PM
Asher looked at the woman (Scherezade deWinter)who approached them. It was odd that she had said she never worked with the Mandragora before when Asher recalled her hugging a rancor the night he had been claimed.
"So that wasn't you hugging a rancor the night that most of us were claimed by the spirits?"
Asher looked her over, maybe he was wrong, but she did look familiar. It did not matter one bit however as everyone was preparing to cross over. There were only two methods that seemed practical in an emergency, the candle and the blood, but the tears seemed the best way to bring the children back. He could always light the candle with a spell if needed, so Asher pulled out his knife.
"Blood it it," he said as he produced some of his own blood to open the gateway into the next dimension. Asher stepped through and was immediately transported into the cold. Once on the other side he looked for Kasca Fen and Fawn Alzi. The witches needed to stick together.
Posted 03 February 2019 - 03:52 PM
"Hello there." He said calmly to the woman, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, "Speak truthfully. Are you flesh and blood, or creature of this realm? You take the form of a comrade, but I've yet to deem you an illusion or not."
He watched her carefully, waiting for any false movement against him that seemed provactive or malevolent. He would not let deception falter his resolve to this mission.
Posted 03 February 2019 - 04:07 PM
Wearing: Armor | Leather Pants | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Hidden Wrist Blades | Knight Obsidian Sword | 4 Glitter Bullets
It had only lasted a second, but that second had taken an eternity to pass. Madalena could see the Road that she had taken, the Path of Tears. While it held no corporate form, her mind translated what she saw as a wide and very long bridge, absent of any markings or cracks. There was no sky, there was no bottom, there were no sides, only the Path, and the Path was all that mattered. But above all, beyond the creepiness of the Path, beyond the utter Nothingness that seemed to surround it, what irked her the most was the absolute stillness of it, and the feeling of dread that settled inside her as she realized that she'd experienced something similar to this before.
Madalena took another step, and she was past the bridge, inside a barren forest that was only slightly decorated with leaf-less trees. She had been the first the leave the Knights Obsidian Citadel, but she was not the first to arrive. How had the other people traveled faster? Had she been the only one to take the Path of Tears? Because she had not sent anyone else on that road, but judging by some expressions, the possibility of that was pretty slim.
Another thing that was pretty evident almost immediately, was that Madalena was extremely cold. The protection offered by both the Archivists and McHandsy (Darth Tacitus) helped some, but she had not actually thought to do something as simple as bring a coat. The snow was bitter cold and she began to bounce, hoping to keep the blood flowing.
Now Madalena jumped in panic. Blood! The very thing that defied such a large part of what she was, the ability that she relied on for so many instances that it was borderline mundane for her by now, the curvaceous woman looked around and bit her lip, realizing that she could not scent anyone who was around. Oh, they were there all right, she could see them with her eyes, but she could not scent them at all with her blood hound abilities, not a single one. When Madalena hugged herself again, it was not for the cold, but for the sheer terror at being in a situation like this without her strongest ability.
Closing her eyes, the Sith forced her panic to subside. It would do no good to her now to lose her senses, especially as she was supposed to lead this damned thing.
"Okay," she said quietly before raising the volume of her voice, "check your abilities everyone. Force powers, racial traits, all the rest of the shenanigans. Make sure you know what's available and what's not to you before we take enough steps to potentially come across opposition!"
Looking around, the Pathfinder began to run a head count. "Anyone seen Nine Lives?"
made by Ahtemis
Posted 03 February 2019 - 04:27 PM
With: Taramaz Laurs? Currently alone?
He calmly and quickly realised he was sinking fast. Every foot he moved the snow seemed to pull him further down, quick snow?. Damn.
Trying slower movements didn't help either, up to his waist, he looked for something to pull him out and didn't get any traction. There was a rock not far away, he fired the whipcord thrower at it and it hit the edge, missing. Pulling it back in, caused him to drop several more inches into the maw of snow he found himself in. Another shot, the whipcord, just didn't whip or curl, it just went straight.
Thankfully Ithiel being Ithiel worked this out fast, that the physics of this place were different. A lot of what he was used to wasn't going to be working. He was going to try the jetpack naturally next but hesitated. "Candosan. STATIC Candosan? STATIC Getting this?" No answer. He'd managed to get the heavy kitbag thrown away and clear. His left hand was trapped under the snow with the rest of the communicators, that wasn't helping.
Slipping further in.
Jetpack. He calculated it worth the risk. Fired it up on and on. With a noise he'd never heard before it screeched and pushed him further down, he turned it off FAST, but ended up lodging himself so far in the snow, he almost lost his right hand as well, up to his chest in the white maw. "STATIC Stay away from the Jetpacks. STATIC Reversing. STATIC STATIC." His communicator went completely dead and he pulled it off before it went down with him.
The White MAW. Grew around him like a hungry animal ready to feed. You could see the shape now, snow slowly running to somewhere far below. He went still, no panic, focusing.
NPCs: One Mandalorian Tech
Posted 04 February 2019 - 04:21 AM
Location: Winter White
A small sense of dejavu surrounded Kureani as she walked down what seemed liked a endless bridge, the entire area around her being aflame as far as the eye could see but at the same time no heat was present. Not that she wanted to risk it or have time for it, Kurenai focusing on the task at hand, continuing on the forward path paved out in front, soon a white light enveloping her vision, returning the women to the the physical realm, all but a different one.
Instantly the sharp biting of the cold came to her face, like tiny knifes stabbing into her flesh, the world around her like some winter wonder land... that was apparently full of cultist that kidnap children. Looking around it seemed like she was among the first to arrive, the air having several familiar smells, that of Scherezade deWinter and Nine Lives, the latter seeming to have left a trail behind, her scent leading off towards a mountainous area. "Well that is Ni Ne, always running off before anyone else", perhaps there was some truth to her grandmother locking the women up for several thousand years if she was already so... straight tot the point.
She would have followed the women if not the fact it was a better idea to meet up with the rest of the group, Kureani following her senses to Madalanea, pushing through some dead shrub, eyes laying on the women. A small group having formed already but still not the majority of those who had been on the other side before the bridging. "Racial traits, true, give me a second". Pulling back on her sleave and pordugin a knife Kurenai cut herself, deep enough so to check for her regeneration... but non came, the wound bleed just like a regular human, not signs of stopping unless treated with outside help.
"That is problematic", seems as though today would be old routine day, try not to get to badly wounded. "My regeneration seems to be affected by this places curse, still it should not hinder my combat ability", even without the regeneration Kurenai made sure to keep bacta supplies on her body, and with all the wars she had fought in the women's pain tolerance was somewhat ridiculous. Putting a small plaster on the cut Kurenai turned her attentino back to Madalena while hopefully the rest of the people present went through their abilities.
"On coming to this world I picked up a trail from Ni Ne leading to a mountain area, I think she may have already found someone and it taking the lead on finding the children". "I'd recommend we move out ASAP to prevent any mishaps on her part".
Edited by Kurenai Yumi, 04 February 2019 - 04:21 AM.
Posted 04 February 2019 - 10:16 AM
Upon signing the document, Kasca had left to prepare for the trip. Of all the people coming to the children's rescue, she likely was the most prepared naturally for the coming Winter. She had lived on Arkania much of her life and had been keeping her rooms cold at all possible times, much to the chagrin of anyone who entered them. Still, she packed cold weather gear, coat, boots, emergency tent, med kit etc as well as a few extra candles, knives and projectile type rocks she could use as ammo. It wasn't a blaster she needed, but her own mind and that would be keen, even in the fiercest cold weather.
In the privacy of her ship, she prayed to Jart, that he would give swift wings to the returning children. Children were innocent. They had not the experience or years of life to warrant an attack and she hated anyone who would abuse them in any manner. She had been a victim as a child and now would help these children escape their abusers.
When she returned, she was bundled and ready to go. Kasca had come in just in time for the Archivists to say their enchantment and she felt its affect almost immediately. One by one, everyone started disappearing taking the Path of Blood, Tears or Flame. Not the most adept at fire conjuring, she used that as her way to travel from this place to Winter. Like Madalena, she saw the path she was on as she traveled. It wasn't that she was walking and it was moving, but rather that she moved without moving. And unlike Madalena's Path of Tears full of nothingness, hers was bright with screeches and cracks as though the world were on fire and then the cold hit her like a wall.
She gasped and fell to the ground disoriented and coughing. Thankful that there was only one time anyone had to take that path, she took in a deep breath of the frozen wind and let it out in a cloud of vapor. Soon right again, she stood and observed her surroundings. She could see Madalena and Asher Mossa who was coming towards her with purpose.
The reminder to check her abilities was one she took seriously. It seemed as though her Species ability of handling the cold was gone and she was glad she had brought clothing for such an occasion. Kasca then lifted a few projectiles from her bag and played with them using her telekinesis and found with profound relief that she was able to use her force abilities. Next came her lightsaber, but she found that it did not wish to work in this environment. That was unfortunate, but not so bad.
She looked up at Asher and smiled. "How are you?"
Posted 04 February 2019 - 12:59 PM
Equipment: Lightsaber, staff (doesn't do anything), concealed dagger
As the winds howled and the snow continued to build up on her hair and the fur she wore close and tight to her skin, Fawn narrowed her eyes at the man before her, an aura of warmth embracing him fully. She couldn't very well guess based on nothing whether the man was genuine or not, but she supposed the two would need to be suspicious of one another for the time being. The unknown was always the most dangerous part of these adventures, whether it was deadly or not.
As she walked by him, her sideways glance was accompanied by jaded words grumbled through a layer of her coat's fur that raised above her mouth. "Whether an illusion or not, I rarely speak truthfully, but if it makes you happy, I'm made of flesh and blood. Should we begin to tear each other apart to be sure we're both made of the same essentials?"
No matter what the man was, she doubted he would make for a good servant in death regardless. This was the kind of man whose very essence would reject her calling no matter how little left there was of his corpse. She couldn't say the same, however, for the second man who made himself apparent to the two just a moment later through the flurry of white that shrouded the horizon. He didn't speak, but merely stood there with hands loosely held one over the other as if in contemplation. A dark hood that could have covered his face with its shade was instead draped behind him, his face of dark crimson made clearly visible to the both of them. He was bald without horns or lekku, and his eyes were circled with black, vaguely resembling some of the tattoo patterns she was familiar with of the Dathomirian men back on her home planet.
She buried the bottom of her staff into the snow beneath her without making a sound, calling for whatever spirits could hear her in this realm. Unfortunately, that proved to be more difficult than she had imagined. Whether it was her tumultuous relation to certain spirits or the distance between them, she couldn't tell, but the only spirit she could feel was her own at that moment. She hoped that would be all she needed, and that she could rely on her fellow witch.
Edited by Fawn Alzi, 04 February 2019 - 01:01 PM.
Posted 04 February 2019 - 06:04 PM
Nine's sword came down, splitting open the skull of a cultist while her lightsaber bit through another's bald head.
She never stopped moving, and neither did her blades. The dark blue one went through the air freely, the Katana had aerodynamics to consider. But it caused pain due to being ground with the blood poison gem, so there was that.
Nine brutally hacked away, her suit already soaked in the blood of multiple combatants, a trail of gore and corpses behind her. Nine didn't like relying on offensive Force powers, because she wasn't actually good at them.
Her katana rammed into the chest of one, who screamed, gurgling blood as Nine used her vocal mimicry abilities to imitate a Rancor's roar as she used the Force to increase her strength, hefting him and kicking him off the sword into a crowd of cultists, while others swiped at her with double bladed vibro swords. Nine's assault gained a renewed fury, her blades striking at her attackers with a savage elegance as she used Form 2's tenents to evade or redirect their attacks elsewhere, parrying as necessary to get a disembowelment or beheading.
Blood sprayed on the faceplate of the vampire as her Katana sliced open a neck, her arms in a rythmic motion as she danced through and around their attacks, inverting her weapons at certain points to strike from unexpected angles. The warriors fought furiously, blocking her attacks at times, but a millenias old vampire is a most savage creature and as a red mist in the area gradually built up, and the warriors who attacked continued to fall before the feral attacks of the Arch Psy-Pire, dark blue fans of plasma and flashing wintrium splitting open flesh and cracking or burning skin and muscle and bone to charcoal. One cultist was brutally impaled through the skull three times, the first two stabs from her katana, the last from her lightsaber (GLORY KILL!!!) and the machete like attacks from her only continued, dodging and jumping over spears and battle axes, sword and saber turning people into cut open and melted bags of garbage, honoring the most hilariously violent of her ancestors.
"NONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE!" Nine roared demonically. "NONE OF YOU!!! I'LL DRINK ALLLLLLL YOUUUUURRRR BIIIIRRRRRTHDAAAAAAYYYS!!!"
The cultist who had led her into this so-called "trap" was panicking, running as he heard the shrieks of agony and the roar of their killer as he went through various stone chambers as frozen as the rest of this place. Fifty...she had killed fifty people in two minutes. He burst through one door having not ceased running at all. He had to warn the others--
Fiery, burning pain from a blood poisoned katana sliced into the back of his leg. He screamed as he fell to the ground. He turned, the seven foot vampire looming like a spider, drenched in the blood of his fellows.
"Ah, exercise!" Nine joked, sheathing her sword, shutting off her saber. "This place got a ship?"
The bald cultist could only nod wordlessly at the blood soaked creature.
He dark blue saber pointed at his face. "Show me."
Twenty minutes later...
It was was a Corellia-Built frieghter, she knew that much. Apparently ships flew in this realm. How they had gotten a whole ship over here was beyond her.
After interrogating him some more as to the temple's nature and layout, she learned that they had not built it: It had been here long before they had. There were no children. She had searched with him before leaving on the ship.
After impaling his leg with Ithiel's free knife, she had forced him to pilot under threat of death, out of the hangar and to where she sensed the faint prescence of comrades gathered. She forced her captive to set down about a hundred meters from them after ten minutes of flying and then dragged her captive out of the cockpit, who screamed in pain as she forced him to walk with the knife in his leg and back to where the ship scans had detected new ones.
She quickly spotted Scherezade deWinter and Kurenai Yumi along with Asher Mossa and Kasca Fen, waving at them.
"Hi everyone!" she called out in her deep contralto, still absolutely drenched in blood "Brought a prisoner! Apparently they know how to get ships over here. He says some of them are at this temple in a grove guarded by something called a Fountain Beast. My scans detected other, scattered life forms that could be the rest of our team. What's the play, Madalena?" Nine asked deWinter, still not sure what the whole name change thing was about, trying to keep the sound of the gunshot that killed Riggs out of her head.
Posted 07 February 2019 - 10:41 AM
"Oh, there's the party."
Seeing the congregation of Confederates he made his way over carefully, the click of the cane upon the frozen ground keeping time with the smacking of his flip-flops. Approaching he pulled the silver cylinder from his cinched waist and held it at the ready in his left hand. Upon closer inspection one would see the cylinder was thicker then was traditionally used. Nearing the opposite direction was the Atrisian woman who towered over them with a crimson most coating her form.
"Why hello pretty lady."
He raised his weathered hand and licked his pinky and index finger to smooth over his voracious brows in an attempt to tame the wild growths.
"I'm ready for action. And don't worry, I won't break a hip. Been there, done that, and both are titanium."
Scherezade deWinter I Fawn Alzi I Kurenai Yumi I Nine Lives I Ithiel Vi'Dreya I Asher Mossa I @A'Runda I Rhaina Tira I Darth Tacitus I Taramaz Laurs
Posted 11 February 2019 - 07:30 AM
Theme: Well now they know
Cold. So Cold. He knew it was a winter dimension, but he wasn't prepared for this. He had to admit, the KO armour and the Archivists spell worked wonders. It appeared that he was in some sot of cave, with lots of holes in the walls, and lots of clicking and buzzing noises. It wasn't long before giant, man sized bugs flew at him, knocking him over, biting at his face with their large mandibles. His mask quickly covered his face, just intime to block one of the creature's from getting a tooth stuck into him. The giant sabre tooth hit the mask's metal so hard, it chipped, and cracked. The Sith Lord quickly grabbed one of his sabers, activating the black blade against the bug freak's cold, leathery skin, piercing it, and killing it, he then pushed it off of him with the force, and got up, grabbing his other saber, and ignited it too. The black blades burned like an open fire.
"Great. A hive."
More bugs rushed at him, and he pushed back, slicing them up into bug sushi. It wasn't long before a giant queen came out, and rushed at him. His blades cut her up with slightly more difficulty, but nothing compared to a normal lightsaber. He then walked out of the cave, his black cape trailing in the harsh winds of a blizzard. His comms picked something up.
"Candosan. STATIC Candosan? STATIC Getting this?"
"STATIC Stay away from the Jetpacks. STATIC Reversing. STATIC STATIC."
His suit wasted no time pinpointing the signal's origins. From the comms of the man he'd met before he left. He almost forgot the bag, and quickly force pulled it over to him, slipping it onto his back, easily shouldering the weight. He then started moving towards the signal's origins. Wading through the blizzard, the snow was starting to mess with him, covering up his vision. He wiped off his visor quickly, and kept pushing. It wasn't long before he encountered tracks of a large beast, heading towards the signal. The claws were long, and jagged, they didn't seem to have pattern to them, but that could just be the snow messing with the tracks. He picked up his pace, stomping through the harsh snow. Growing ever closer to the hungering beast, and his unfortunate prey.
Growing tired of the blizzard's block of his vision, he reached out with the force, stopping it for a solid 30 feet infront of him, just long enough to see a man waist deep in snow, and a large, foul wolf like creature nearby. It looked to be a feline, with long, sabre sharp, teeth, long claws, thick fur, and a tough build. He ran over to the beast, and dropped the bag, force leaping over to the beast. He brought his sabers down like a knife to try and chop it, but the beast was too fast, dodging, and brought it's massive paws down to try and slash his back open. He, while not as fast, still managed to dodge, and switched his blades off, igniting them and slashing at the creature only when he attacked the beast. Before long, both grew tired of the exchange, and the Sith Lord, felt his anger growing at not being able to kill this beast, letting his guard down. He swung at the beast, a mistake that nearly cost him his life.
The beast knocked him onto his back, his lightsabers knocked out of his hands aswell. Then the beast swung downward, in an attempt to crush the Sith Lord. A mistake that cost the creature it's life instead. The Sith Lord blasted the beast with force lightning. The purple electricity lit up the space around them in a faint pinkish purple glow for a solid minute, as the Sith Lord fried the beast, it's nerves and muscles locking from electric shock. He then force pushed the beast backwards, and ended the barrage of deadly electricity. The beast's body landed ten feet away, smoking, it's once beautiful white and grey fur now a charred and burnt black.
He force pulled his lightsabers to him, placing them on his belt, then marched over to the man being swallowed by the sand, and grabbed his wrist, pulling Ithiel Vi'Dreya out of the sand quickly. It appears technology worked different, but strength did not. As within minutes, the man was free.
- Ithiel Vi'Dreya likes this
"I don't need an Iron Man Suit, I know who I am." - Robert Downey Jr.
Posted 12 February 2019 - 04:22 PM
NPCs: One Mandalorian Tech
Edited by Ithiel Vi'Dreya, 12 February 2019 - 04:25 PM.