A Legacy of Violence - The Hunt for a Blade

[Darlyn Excron]

Darlyn shook his head, following behind the woman silently. She had so little sense of dramatics, so lacking in creativity. It was a shame, she didn't look that bad. Oh well, he supposed it would do for a distraction. Quietly he slipped past the cultists drawn to her violent, sudden entrance. They didn't seem to notice him as he closed the distance slowly, watching them, and others that were alerted from various other posts, begin to swarm her. Most stood no chance, none at all. But a few seemed able to dodge the blade for a few moments, which showed promise for an entertaining evening. If these were the savages, their leader had to be quite something...

Two seemed to be approaching behind her without her noticing. Now that wouldn't do... halfway to the lightsabers he raised his hands, blasting both with a bolt of lightning to send one convulsing onto the ground, and the other to be immediately killed. Weak heart, it seemed. This rose the attention of a duo, between him and the weapons, who began a rapid approach. He had to disable them, at least, to get past. So.. with calm ease he reached out, gripping one with the force and tossing him aside. These men were weak minded, unable to resist him. And with his prize so close to his sight, there was very little he felt he couldn't do.

Of course, even so, he wasn't strong enough to properly lift up the man and throw him away like a bugbite. No, what happened instead was the man stumbled to the side and fell, making his companion easy prey. Though untrained in martial arts, it didn't take a genius to know how to throw a punch. And with a couple of swift punches to the man's jaw, it was little surprise that he fell into the swamp with a loud splash. He stepped on his neck for good measure, surely forcing him to choke in some swamp water... more violent than his usual fare of executions but satisfying all the same.

The other had gotten up and ran back, past the pedestal with weapons. A vile, hungry grin crossed Darlyn's face, as he calmly grabbed one of the lightsabers from the collection. It wasn't his, the hilt was all wrong. It felt like it had two emitters, though it was no longer than his own. Realizing of course what had happened, he could only let out a laugh as he ignited the blue blade, giving it a twirl as a second had come to life. His practice would surely come in handy now.

Two blades in one, the savage stood little chance as he moved in, disengaging and igniting the second blade over and over to move the weapon with ease. Not one blow was a kill shot. Each and every stroke, from the legs, to arms, to shoulders and sides, painfully disabling the savage bit by bit. Until at last, he spun under a weak thrown punch, jabbing the second emitter into his stomach and igniting the blade. How simple, he liked this weapon.

As the corpse fell, a voice came out from seemingly nowhere. "So you have come for the sacred treasure, have you? You shall both leave disappointed." A man wearing little more than what seemed to be ragged trousers began to approach, and from the table produced the third weapon in the collection, Darlyn's own yellow lightsaber. Of course, by that, one meant he pulled it through the force. It appeared the leader had come, and was at least aware of how to use the force properly, in basic conventions...

Darlyn stood, glancing at [member="Zmej Ren"] with a grin. "What say you that we show our gracious host our gratitude before we decide who gets the party favors?"

 

[Zmej Ren]

Cultists fell left and right, their number dropping drastically once the pair of prisoners rearmed themselves. Battling the right enemy this time, the unlikely duo massacred what little opposition the cannibals offered. Once the last savage kissed the mushy earth, a new figure approached, his arrival heralded by the Force that warned Zmej about his capabilities. Eyeing him with great caution, the blonde woman twirled her weapon and stood ready, mental defences prepared this time in case the tribal decided to use the same trick twice. This was the end, the final obstacle. His death would mark the mission’s success – provided there was no artefact to seize, although right now, Zmej cared little about obtaining the item of power.

“And you won't be leaving at all.” Zmej Ren declared and furrowed her brows, finally finding the very man behind her humiliating capture. Ideas of flaying him alive and giving him a bath in the disgusting swamp water raced through her mind, yet despite the temptation, the Ren truly wished to put a swift, sudden end to the entire cult in a display of power. It’s been around for too long anyway, and personally insulting the Supreme Leader by capturing his agent only added more salt to injury. All the anger accumulated throughout the mission came out, released upon a single entity in a destructive, chaotic noose that wrapped around the scantily clad man’s neck as her hand shot up like an attacking snake. Swift, brutal, efficient, the invisible rope of energy tore his entire form up, ripping him from the marsh’s embrace. Feet helplessly kicked air, but giving him time to break the crushing hold was not among Zmej’s intentions.

Knuckles white as if holding a physical object, the hand attempted to curl into a first, crashing against the man’s resistance. He wasn’t going to have his neck snapped like a twig, continuing to struggle against her choking grip. Frowning, Zmej gasped for air, growing exhausted from pouring so much energy into the challenging task. Not expecting much resistance from such a savage, she had underestimated his strength in the Force. Fortunately, even powerful practitioners could not battle unconsciousness once robbed of air long enough. With the end of all resistance, a sickening crunch signed the final end as his spine yielded to the dark side's unnatural strength, head turned in a strange angle impossible to reproduce through normal means.

Finally.

Stillness took over the twitching body before it limply dropped into the stagnant waters below. One splash and the cultist sank into the swamp’s depths, living being reduced to a lifeless sack of meat to feed the planet.

Falling backwards, panting heavily, Zmej found unexpected support in the disgusting altar, leaning against it as her body hungrily clawed at the dark side’s power. Deeply satisfied with the end result, the dark disciple allowed herself a moment of respite before she would search for the precious suit of armour. Just a silent minute or two to relax, nothing more than taking in the sights. Travelling over the corpses, yellow eyes laughed at the cult's defeat, dark flames dancing within the irises and she smiled. Successful once more - what else mattered? Only after the Ren's sight fell upon the other survivor of the ordeal, Zmej finally realized she was not alone. No longer directly threatened, shame took over and the young woman covered her intimate parts.

"Who are you, anyway?"


[member="Darlyn Excron"]

 

[Darlyn Excron]

Darlyn breathed slowly, smiling somewhat. He hadn't killed many, but he'd killed with vicious style. It satisfied him all the same, and calmed the adrenaline running in his veins. With cold calm, he began to walk among the bodies, kicking a few that weren't marked with obvious fatal wounds to ensure they were dead. It was entirely possible a few were faking it. Yet almost unfortunately, none of them moved in the slightest. A shame, he didn't get to finish anyone off in even more violent, swift manners. Oh well, he could admire a well done kill all the same.

A woman's voice, he turned almost in surprise, but soon realized it was only the same woman as before. She'd spoken so little he hardly realized she was there, causing him to almost forget she existed. But realizing pretty quickly she offered little in the way of a threat, he just turned his head to give her some shielding from anything too embarrassing. As he wandered over to the leader's mangled corpse, he noticed what looked like fabric in the swamp. Pulling it up he realized one of the cultists had been wearing a robe, likely this had been the one in charge of the ceremony. He pulled the robe off and looked it over. It was missing an arm but.. it was mostly intact despite being somewhat disgustingly covered in muck. He threw the robe over his shoulder, removing the leader's pants to put them on himself, and plucking his lightsaber from his hands.

Both weapons disengaged and clipped to the pant's belt loops, he walked over to the woman and held out the dirty, but covering remains of the robe. "Darlyn Excron. Here, you could probably use this for a little bit." His eyes were averted enough she could move without fear of further shaming herself.

[member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

She took the disgusting, grime covered cloth and held it for a second. Instead of wrapping it around her form, Zmej let it drop back to the swamp and shook her head. No, she had zero intention of wearing that, her grin further indicating how ridiculous the very idea looked. Overcoming the embarrassment of walking around naked seemed like the preferable alternative. With that decision made, she unstuck herself from the pedestal, taking a few unsure steps before discovering there was more than enough strength left in her bones to carry her forward for a bit.

“I think I’ll find my armour instead.”

Keeping her grip on the weapon tight, she looked around. Soon enough, a column of smoke caught her gaze – undoubtedly the pyre supposed to cook both prisoners. Perhaps the remaining equipment could be found there, thus her steps carried her in that direction, battling the planet’s hostile nature. If she were to stand a good enough chance of claiming the artefact for herself, Zmej needed the protective capabilities of her armoured suit. That, and it held a strong sentimental value, a reward for her achievements. Recovering it almost held more importance than the artefact itself, although the pale skinned blonde fully intended to grab both before leaving the Endless Swamp.

Soon enough, after arriving to a small clearing dominated by the smouldering flames of a small pyre, her head turned around. A pile of personal belongings stood not too far away, filled with that must have been taken from the previous victims. One of the items was impossible to mistake for anything else, freshly added to the mound. Staring at her own image mirrored within a black visor, Zmej walked closer and eagerly grabbed the helmet. All remaining pieces have been found as well, thus started a quick process of getting herself dressed properly. Much better - the dampness was gone, and although she'd definitely need a long bath once the mission ended, every little bit of comfort counted.

"You should get out of here, Excron," she told him as the helmet slid on her head, "Before the Sith reclaim what is theirs."


[member="Darlyn Excron"]

 

[Darlyn Excron]

She didn't wish to use the tattered robes? He chuckled and shrugged a bit. "I don't blame ya, figured the offer would be the right thing to do anyways." He trudged behind her, less exhausted given his less, violent entry into the fray, but still more than ready to call his search to an end. If in part because he recognized the weapon he'd picked up checked all the marks for what he came for anyways. Both weapons at his hip, he managed to keep up with her as the two neared the pyre.

He watched as the woman moved to the pile of weapons and other belongings, mostly those that held little importance. It seemed anything not directly related to Sith or darksiders was considered useless. Among the piles of armours and trinkets, he managed to pull free his own pants and robes, surprisingly clean considering where they were. That wasn't to say they were perfect, but shedding the ragged trousers for these was far preferable.

It took little effort to slip into the black robes, and he continued the search through the recently added possessions for his simple chest plate and gloves. When he had that, he picked up his red and black cloak, attaching the hooded cloth to its place, and had both lightsabers clipped on either side of his belt. His already dark aura was noticeably darker with the second lightsaber in his possession. He was about to leave the piles when he heard her words, and smirked in reply.

"They can certainly try... though I don't expect they'll find much success." He chuckled and stretched out a bit, extremely relieved to be in his own clothes again. He moved a bit closer to the edge of the 'camp' as he turned to look over at the woman. "Well, it's truly been a pleasure. Crude as it was, it was quite delightful to watch you rip into your enemies. We should do this again sometime, though preferably with clothes." The joke, naturally, was the unlikeliness of them meeting again. Naturally he was still under the impression she may yet be a Sith, and that reduced the likelihood he'd encounter her, between his time on Commenor and his time in First Order space. "What was your name again?"

[member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

“Your overconfidence will be your undoing.” Zmej’s distorted voice informed after his remarks concerning the Sith. While firmly believing the Ren to be superior, she wouldn’t underestimate the broken, ancient order as it continued its painful, meaningless existence. Their power could not be denied – even to this day, sentients hunted for ancient relics connected with the Sith. Zmej Ren, too, desired to siphon the strength running through their veins, reap the knowledge hidden inside their minds. It very much corresponded with the First Order’s goals regarding powerful items and their former owners. For as long as the Supreme Leader held the leash, Sith were tools to be used and discarded once their usefulness came to an end.

When asked to repeat her name, Zmej felt an urge to bash his face in, see the entire structure give away to the heavy, vicious blows of her lightsaber hilt. For a moment, the armoured figure just stood there, regarding him with a silent glare that gave away zero information of what was happening beneath that expressionless, cold mask. It wouldn’t be hard to make a quick, decisive step forward and strike him down. Wiping that cocky grin off his face would have been infinitely amusing, but each additional second meant more time she had to spend in the murky swamp. Not something she wished to prolong any longer than necessary.

“Kayn. You’d do well to remember that.”

With that, she set off. The Endless Swamp would have to look for another victim of its slimy clutches.


[member="Darlyn Excron"]

 

[Darlyn Excron]

Darlyn only shrugged at this. Perhaps it would be his undoing, to be so confident in himself, yet how could he not when he'd experienced for himself much of the galaxy's underbelly? Regardless, he didn't give this Kayn woman much thought, taking her words as more of a threat than a passing piece of wisdom. Regardless of how she meant the words, they weren't of much use getting through the swamp. And speaking of which, she herself began to trudge off on her way, leaving him to his own devices. With a small smirk, he began to head off himself. Surely soon enough something would be familiar, and he could find his way back to a more open area to have his own ride pick him up.

Sure enough, within several hours he noticed a familiar clearing, and looked around. This had to have been where he first encountered, and fought, that Kayn. With a few observations, he noted the likely spots they had fallen, and gave a curt nod. It had to have been. Well, that certainly made his job far easier! He began searching his robes for the signal to pick him up, only barely finding it in the folds as he entered a far more solid section of swamp. Signal sent, all that was left was to wait...

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The members aboard the Kantos frigate said nothing as the admittedly filthy and foul smelling Darlyn stepped foot back onto the command deck. Not one had particularly expected the expedition to be anything pleasant, but the swamp clung to him like a second skin. Even so, the jingling weapons at his waist told of it's success, something sweet enough to make even this uncomfortable temporary situation bearable. "Captain, bring us home, and do have the landing codes ready for us. I am not in a mood to deal with complications, understood?" The uniformed man could only give a curt nod as Darlyn turned and went off on his own. He unclipped the new addition to his personal arms, turning it over in his hands.

What a beautifully constructed weapon. He couldn't wait to use it.

[member="Zmej Ren"]