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Sacred lands, Fallen grace

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Draconis Caesar

Draconis Caesar

    Spell Sword

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Tython, ancient pillars cracked and worn by age accompanied by lustrous abandoned temples dot the planets green and blue surface. Each is a bastion of knowledge for those who seek it, but what's more there's a boon in the force here. It attracts all manners of sentients and beast alike. Thousands make the pilgrimage to pay homage to the warrior monks who guard it's halls. It is the duty of the Jedi who still dwell here to make sure this boon remains untainted by the dark and these pilgrims remain protected by it's light. Many Jedi maintain a vigilant watch over the planet's surface, but somehow, as always, the dark has crept in.


Jedi Master Draconis Caesar has sensed the budding darkness and seeks to snip it while it remains in its infancy. In the base of a lake he waits like a stone. Crossed legs and hands clasped in prayer he attempts to zero in on the evil presence. The nearby sound of a waterfall rushing into the lake's basin guides his meditative state, it's flow like that of the force. The ripples it creates signals that Draconis echoes, it pings off the living and the inanimate. Draconis believes he has found the signal along with another more familiar presence. He stands and brushes the dust from his battle robes.


He is adorned in simple durasteel armor and robes, something he usually only wears when preparing for a fight. Even so, he fears no amount of armor may be enough to protect him from the evil beast that stalks Tython's fauna. Despite his worries he is calm. Serene. He checks for his saber out of habit, even though the crystal within has bound to his very being. It lets him know his worries are fruitless, his prayers will be answered with success it tells him. For the light shall always remain victorious. Draconis wanders forth in search of the lighter presence he felt. If the darkness is what he fears he will need all the help he can get.


He walks through green foliage, off the beaten path. The ally he seeks is an unconventional one and his choice in place of solace is proof. Draconis notes the beast of the land are timid, even frightened. Unusual for a place such as Tython, where the light nexus calms them to a peaceful lull. They scatter at his approach and Draconis shakes his head as he gently pushes aside the brush. He nears his ally and smiles, despite the darkness it is always pleasant to see an old friend. It is in moments such as these that the light truly conquerors the dark. 


Cedric Grayson

Edited by Draconis Caesar, 30 March 2019 - 01:23 PM.

Tycho Draykon

Tycho Draykon


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It was supposed to be an easy job. At least that was what he was told. Either he was told something false or he is just really rusty at doing this sort of thing. After years of playing soldier after a life of crime Tycho has found himself right back in the life that he had tried to get away from. After the loss of his wife the man just could not pull himself back together, but he still has a kid to take care of. And well that requires money. So after stealing a cargo shuttle from an intoxicated Imperial pilot the man made off with the ship to look for work.

That led him to a Hutt who's hobby was collecting rare artifacts. Well Tycho was not going to pass this job up. With the money the Hutt was offering it will keep his daughter fed for weeks or months. Especially if he was hired back on for another job.

Now why was this job hard? Well for one he had never been to Tython before and two there is not exactly a map laying around. So the soldier turned criminal had to do a guessing game of where the rare jedi artifacts are kept and hope he guessed correctly. As well as get passed any traps. Then haul his loot back to the waiting ship all the while making sure his kid remained on the ship. Last thing he needed was for his daughter to go running off and getting herself lost in the temple or nearby forest.

Now had he ever met a jedi before? Nope and nor does.he expect to come across any. It did not stop the man from moving as fast as he can though as Tycho ran back onto the temple with his rifle, that he found onboard the stolen shuttle, slinged on his right shoulder. This will be his last run into the temple to make a final sweep for any artifacts he might have missed. Coming to a stop, the man unshouldered his rifle putting a fresh ammo clip into the rifle thinking he might need it. He has no idea why he feels that the weapon is needed, it was just a habit to go with his gut feeling. And right now it is telling him the weapon needs to be in his hands.

Current Clothing. Ship and rifle are in CS
Draconis Caesar

Edited by Tycho Draykon, 31 March 2019 - 09:33 AM.

Laertia Io

Laertia Io

    The Damaged Edge

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Came to Tython in: Blessing of Loste (Dynamic Class Frieghter)

Wearing: Hoodlum's Leathers (http://starwarsrp.ne...dlums-leathers/)

Armed with: Constant Gardener (http://starwarsrp.ne...stant-gardener/)

Dark Favor (http://starwarsrp.ne...978-dark-favor/)

Laertia Io meditated by the peaceful, serene little lake she had found since getting familiar with this place. Naturally she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst actual Jedi, given her odd presence in The Force, distorted by the constant random pain of her medical condition. Laertia had been trained by and was considered at one point a Jedi Shadow but had only rarely walked and studied amongst classical Jedi. She didn't like dressing like one except rarely (and always in dark colored clothes, in a brazen attempt to emulate Luke Skywalker himself when he had started rocking the green blade) and she didn't act stuffy like many Jedi she had met. Most people barely understood her past the speech impediment. She knew the code--Her master Ursula had at least taught her that much, and remembering it in times of crisis had saved her life against some of her more difficult Sith opponents, but Laertia had never needed a code imposed from without to act like a decent person. She knew what right and wrong were. What being good or evil meant about someone. She acted accordingly when encountering either.

Laertia had been trying to remember some of her more esoteric Jedi disciplines since coming out of retirement. One that she had slipped completely on was Force healing. Not because it wasn't important for ordinary Jedi, but simply because she had not seen the point after her injuries--Force healing could not undo the brain damage permanently...the brain would always reverse back to its injured state eventually...but for a few minutes at least, she would feel clear headed without the aid of that cumbersome retrofitted armor she possessed.

And so she had sat at the lake, trying to center herself enough to attain the serenity necessary to relearn it, but the migraines were unpredictable--twice already she had her efforts sabotaged when the migraine started without warning, interrupting all attempts to access the Force. As Tython was about as safe as it got for a killer of Sith Lords she really wasn't worried about an ambush here so she hadn't brought Moya, instead taking only her bottle of pain killers in case the pain got so great she had no choice.

Laertia held her crossguard lightsaber in both hands as she meditated, the main emitter point upward, two secondaries on it's sides, scratched and nicked and weathered from nearly half a decade of use on a thousand different battle fields. Her spiky black jacket beaded with moisture and glinting from the sunlight on its cortosis weave durasteel spikes, selling the image of the thug she preferred to give off. Laertia had not been the type of Jedi to send for diplomatic affairs. She had been the one sent for when a Sith needed to get fitted for a particularly fashionable toe tag quickly and in often spectacular fashion. Laertia didn't know how many people she had killed. Laertia never kept track. She sometimes felt bad about that.

The unretired Shadow focused on connecting with the light, slowing the turmoil in herself and breathing deeply as she held the blade. There were other reasons to come to Tython. If she was going to start helping the Order, she was going to have to learn to work with other classical Jedi. She wasn't sure she knew how.

Laertia figured any moment now some Jedi might come along to investigate the odd signature near this lake in a field of red flowers. She felt nervous at the prospect, but she held fast to her meditation, even as the paranoia of not knowing when a migraine would hit sabotaged her ability to achieve calm somewhat, trying to remember the pleasant healing sensation, and trying to not think about how terrible she was at making friends. The stage fright her injured brain conjured made her have a mild panic attack that took her a few minutes to get under control.

Draconis Caesar

Tycho Draykon

Edited by Laertia Io, 31 March 2019 - 11:04 AM.


Cedric Grayson

Cedric Grayson

    Son of The Light

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Vitae streamed down the gleaming plates of his war-gear in forked streams of crimson. The scent of it was heavy in his nostrils; it was so heady that he felt he could taste the copper upon his tongue. It was not his own blood that marked the Jedi Master as a creature of violence, but rather the blood of a mangled corpse that had seen fit to fall from the upper canopy of Tython's forest. Cedric regarded the mangled mass of flesh and organs sadly, though he did now allow melancholy to take hold of his heart. He might have been too slow to save this padawan, but there were still others under threat of the beast.


Frustrated, the armored knight reached out into the empyrean. He felt the life of the world bustling about him; Cedric drew upon the presence of the small, peaceful creatures that littered Tython's forest floor for comfort. These animals were the natural progeny of Tython - the beast he hunted was an alien anomaly. He reached out ever further into the depths of the Great Ocean, and felt three lives shining brightly within its tides. 


One was like him; a champion of the Light, though wayward in its cause. Another was an individual left utterly apart from the Force, a strange thing to find on a world such as this. The third was an anomaly: a coagulation of the Ashla and something entirely foreign to Cedric's own mind. At any other time, Cedric might have sought out such an individual out of curiosity alone, but there were far more pressing matters at hand.


The Jedi Master stood on the edge of a becalmed lake, and he could see a lone female figure across the other bank. The other two were close, though not within eyesight. Extending beyond them, Cedric felt a malignance unique to itself, one that could rarely ever be replicated.


"It's hunting them," Cedric mumbled to himself.He reached out to these three individuals and drew upon his connection to Tython itself. Cedric could not speak into the minds of others, but he could at the very least transmit images and feelings.


To each, he would extend a momentary vision of a creature that stood as high as four human men. It had a thick black hide draped over its muscular form, and teeth the size of vibroswords jutted from its maw of a mouth. Beady orange eyes filled with murderous intent peered out from a bullish head. After that image, Cedric sent his own view of the lake out into the psychic ether with the hopes that these other individuals might be drawn to it. If he could gather them, then he could better guard them from the monster that stalked these woods. If nothing else, he hoped they would at least understand the dangers that lurked nearby.


Wasting little time, the armored Jedi rushed down the side of the lake, hoping to make it to this strange woman (Laertia Io) before the monster did.


Laertia IoTycho DraykonDraconis Caesar

Edited by Cedric Grayson, 01 April 2019 - 12:21 PM.

Laertia Io

Laertia Io

    The Damaged Edge

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Laertia Io concentrated for her master, Ursula Sandraven, a purple skinned, curvy yet muscular Twi'lek woman in an all white combat bodyglove as she paced around Io in the training chamber.

Io was wearing a loose fitting Jedi Robe in brown and white, her pale skin standing out in relatively dim surroundings of of the large room with paper and wood slat doors and polished red floorboards.

Laertia had fractured her wrist knocking down a particularly nasty Mandalorian, hitting him so hard through the helmet she had fractured his skull severely from the blow, killing him within minutes. He had been sent to kill her after she had killed her first Sith Master. This wasn't chump credits she had taken down either...this guy had been involved in vicious, illegal medical experiments on prisoners. It had been necessary, so Laertia didn't feel particularly bad.

"Itz so harrd..." Laertia whined, wincing at her broken wrist.

"Only your mind is making it hard..." Ursula said sternly to one of her two most prized students. Laertia knew over time she had become second fiddle to Uri, who was getting all of Ursula's time and attention. She knew it wasn't a contest, knew it wasn't a matter of who got paid attention to more but that did not mean it didn't hurt.

Laertia, though, would never give up trying to impress Ursula enough one day to truly be a daughter in her eyes. So for now she concentrated, reaching out with her soul to the energy that binds all living things.

"Ursy?" Laertia asked respectfully as she closed her eyes again.

"Yes, Laertia?" Ursula turned to her, her movements always very silent, very water like, ever shifting, never still, never permanent. She was a coldly precise fighter, and had stressed that need for a precise coldness in Laertia's training.

"Howw comez duh too sydez ov duh foyce arr so diffrunt?" Io asked, talking slowly so Ursula could get past the speech impediment.

"Light must have shadow, and the two are always at war in some way. It is the task of The Jedi to feel that conflict in themselves, and the universe, and to quell it in favor of the light as often as possible. That is why the lights gifts are more defensive and passive in nature. That is why it requires a calm head to use. You were close to getting it right..." Ursula encouraged gently, getting into a meditative position with her. Even after Laertia had been knighted, Ursula still provided guidance.


"Yess, Ursy?" Laertia asked, sincerely curious.

"I look at you and I see so much potential..."

Laertia danced on the inside at hearing this from Ursula.

"...it is however, clouded by doubt..." Ursula chided. "I've been at this a long time...and rarely have I ever come across an adept of your talent...but you must learn confidence, Laertia. A thing only becomes impossible if you believe it so."

Ursula grew silent for a moment but what she next said confused Laertia, because it was so out of the blue. She seemed to struggle to get the words out.

"I know I...can sometimes be stern. Stuffy. But it is only because I want you to survive..." Ursula spoke quietly. "You have become a great Jedi...but your journey is never truly over...more is always required."

Laertia could only nod eagerly at this. She'd been complimented! Praised! She would sleep and dream of rabbits that night. Ursula had actually dished out praise!

Laertia, in that instant, pushed aside all her doubt. She could prove Ursula right. Would prove Ursula right.

She reached out, using the encouragement as fuel. Rapidly, in the span of a few minutes as Ursula meditated with her, the wounds set themselves, the light touching every cell in her body, giving her the same feeling as when she petted and whispered little praises to her rabbits.

Laertia opened her eyes, staring in amazement as her wrist was completely healed. Ursula gave a small smile.

"Good. Now next time try to heal it faster. That was sloppy..." Ursula chided.

Laertia only nodded, blindly happy.

"Sure tingz, Ursy!"

Laertia left the memory, suddenly remembering the key to success and concentrated, pushing doubt from her mind. She had to do it. Ursula was depending on her to find the shrodinger box.

She felt a long lost pleasant tinge of warmth to her skull, the erratic workings of her brain temporarily healing itself. She opened her eyes, clear headed. She stood up, frowning as she already felt the effects starting to wear off.

A sudden mental image of a horrid beast made her wheel around in surprise, her unstable green blade erupting out of the worn hilt, the crossguard blades bursting out a half second later.

What was that monster image she had gotten? And who was that man racing to her? Laertia guessed a Jedi. She guessed that monster was business...

A roar behind her made the former knight turn slowly around. The monster had come, its teeth glinted and she felt the touch of the darkness from it. Laertia figured it was some sort of sith spawn some poor feth had accidentally awakened. Monster was tall too. Nasty type. Better kill it quickly.

Laertia did a makashi salute to the beast...then childishly stuck her tongue out at it and made a funny face. The monster roared and lunged...and roared in frustration as Laertia teleported ten meters behind it, tossing her lightsaber, only for the blade to glance off its hide harmlessly as she teleported a little further away, bent on reacquiring, infuriated after she had managed to score a hit.

Laertia drew her shotgun and sent both barrels its way as she fired, blasting it in the face and stunning it a little before it resumed its deadly lunge. Laertia feared no mere beast however, and teleported ten meters above, dropping on its massive hide and striking at its head while it tried to buck her off. It succeed, chucking her, only for her to disappear in mid-air reappear above it falling, her lightsaber being brought down as she struck the soft tissue of a hideous eye, blinding it on one side. But Laertia was was too slow as she landed and got clipped partly by a swipe, which sent her hurling to the soil and grass, knocking her saber out of her hand, stunned as it bore down on her. She barely teleported out of the way but it had her scent and as she teleported her weapon back to her hand she realized she needed help with this one...

(Force Power Relearned!)

Power: HEAL

Cedric Grayson

Draconis Caesar

Tycho Draykon