Populate A Primal Celebration | Diarchy Populate of Moltok

[Darth Nathrax]

The galaxy, an ever-swirling mass of chaotic energy, one that The Diarchy sought to bring to order. With the recent incursions of the Empire of the Lost on Bastion the two rulers of the planet have decided to shore up their defences along the edges of their territory. Under the advice of Darth Nathrax, The Diarchy has begun to expand towards the relatively small planet of Moltok. While not the most strategically significant of planets, it did hold a useful resource to the brother rulers might exploit, the population.

Moltok is home to two noteworthy species of sentient life. These are the Makurth, a nocturnal species of large carnivorous saurians, and the Ho’Din, a species of 3 meter tall reptilians with snake-like hair. While the Ho’Din are largely peaceful botanists and herbal healers, the Makurth are warriors, known for their role as bodyguards for pirate syndicates and criminal cartels. In the past few years, the Makurth have sought to secure a ruling power over Moltok, and have contacted the Diarchy in hopes of consolidating their power.

To that end, the many disparate tribes of Makurth warriors have joined together in a grand uniting ceremony. Filling the ceremonial grounds of their most ancient sacred site, a ziggurat dedicated to an ancient Sun deity of Makurth lore. It will be here where the forces of the Diarchy will endeavor to form an Alliance with the brutish saurian warrior clans.

Objective I: Join the Dance!

The clans have gathered around a massive bonfire at the base of their temple, with festivities that can be seen for miles around. The lizardfolk don masks and traditional garb to celebrate the planet’s sun reaching its zenith. Join in the festivities and make merry amongst the Diarchy’s newest allies, and make a good first impression amongst the warriors!

Objective II: A Battle to Remember!

Another tradition of Makurth culture is a mock battle which reenacts the tribal conflicts of old. Makurth warriors from different clans are chosen in teams to represent their clan in this combat, each team must battle with wooden weapons, and battle until they cannot continue. The last team standing wins! No force powers, no blasters, only strength of arms will win the day! Contestants of the Diarchy may choose between staves, swords, and bows as their weapons, and must contend with the 6 teams of the main clans of the Makurth warriors. Prove your worth, and represent your faction with honor!

 

[Countess Anétresya]

In her long lifetime, the sangnir had experienced the wonders of many different cultures across the galaxy. Today might find her dressed in a different kind of garb than she'd usually adorn, the mask of a wolf obscuring her visage. She would be unrecognisable to most, but at least she fit in here. The planet moltok was not new to her, she knew the names of the clans around and the traditions. But it made her wonder if this alliance would even be accepted with how different the Diarchy was.

But worries set aside, Anetresya had joined the people dancing around the bonfire.

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Objective 2: A battle to remember
Tags: OPEN

---

A choice between a dance and a mock battle was an easy one for the Diarch. He was a warrior, and while he played politics with the best of them, it was the rare times that warfare and politics melded that he lived for. Such was the case now, on the surface of Moltok. The Saurian Makurth had reached out to the Diarchy, the message being relayed by Darth Nathrax to the High Council. It was with great zeal that the men and women now descended upon the neighboring planet, eager to gain the alliance of these fearsome warriors.

For his own part, Reign had chosen to lead in the mock battle, something their guide had told them represented the tribal conflict of their host's history. Choosing to wield a wooden sword, chosen for it's similarity to his lightsaber, Reign had stripped of his upper garments, standing tall in just the lower trousers and long hanging loincloth of his uniform. He stretched as he eyed his reptilian counterparts, his heavily muscled form flexing and prepared for battle.

He had been advised that he would need to battle six opposing teams, or battle until he could no longer, without the use of the force. Which while that may be a detriment to some, the Diarch trained each day with and without the use of the force, using Ysalamiri kept within the crucible to cut himself off from the ever present power. A method he passed to all of his students, advising that a warrior must be in his peak without the augmentation, for one never knows when their use of the force will be stripped away.

For now, he awaited the remainder of his team, Reign, while powerful was under no delusions that he could face six teams of the fearsome Saurians alone.

 

[Ryu Jung]

Objective II: A Battle to Remember!​

Ryu was always looking to do what he could to prove his martial skills to the rest of the Brotherhood, as well as his master. After what felt like a shameful display, Ryu was looking to prove himself once more to his master that he was worthy of being a follower of the Diarch. He would take part in the mock battle and follow his master into victory. Despite the fact that this was a mock battle, Ryu was not looking to be humiliated over a mere game. He would privately transported to the planet via a Diarchy shuttle and focused on his meditations. He was in full concentration as he tried to harness his rage for what was to come. He was better than the Markurth savages who thought they could handle a practitioner of the dark side in such a trivial contest. If only they knew what they were in for.

"Sir. We're descending into the planet's atmosphere." The pilot said over the comms, taking Ryu out of his meditative state. It couldn't be helped. Ryu sighed with annoyance and prepared himself for descent. As he restrained himself in his seat. Turbulence was heavy although it wasn't long before it ceases and the shuttle commenced its smooth descent on a Diarchy outpost located outside the grounds for the mock battle. Ryu waited as the shuttle flew around and waited for the go ahead. He grew impatient as he sat uncomfortably.

Before he could even acknowledge it, the shuttle had dropped onto the planet's surface. Ryu wasted no time as the landing gear touched the ground and the ramp gave way for Ryu's appearance. The officer had saluted him as Ryu exited the shuttle. "Where is my master?" He asked the officer before he could properly introduce himself.

"He's a few paces east, sir." He said and Ryu wasted no time looking for his master. He did not directions. He could sense his master's connection to the force as he navigated the planet's flora until he approached Diarch Reign and bowed before him. "I stand ready master."

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Objective I: Join the Dance!​

OPEN
Tags: Laphisto

Landfall upon strange worlds was always a interesting and diverse experience. New cultures and species fascinated the Diarch as a man of science. To be fair it was hard to deny the unique qualities of both the Makurth and Ho'Din. If all went according to plan perhaps some would even volunteer for "Enhancements" under his privy. Either way, the time for celebration was at hand as the Diarchs personal shuttle landed with his ally Laphisto descending from the ramp at his side.

The delegation that met him was quite exotic. Makurth warriors with large clubs awaited him along with a singular tall Ho'Din holding a platter full of delicacies. A subtle moment of shock came over him as he pondered for a moment.

The mind is willing but the flesh is weak...

A thought he kept to himself as he looked over the Ho'Din figure.

Not to be derailed though he greeted the Makurth elder with a strong hand shake. The chieftain himself was out with the war party with Relliks brother Diarch Reign so the next in charge would be the highest respected elder amongst them. He informed Rellik that the weapons and jewelry adorned by the Makurth around him were to show their strength and culture. A welcomed explanation as Rellik was slowly preparing to be assaulted by several of the large Saura's

Being led to the ziggurat was just as tropical as to be expected. Large tiki torches lit their path with more celebratory Makurth and Ho'Din throwing flowers and dancing along the route. Rellik waving and showing thoughtful grace to the participants and their culture as they made their way to the large structure.

Once at the giant fire within the structure Rellik was taken to sit with the older members of the tribe. One youthful Ho'Din bringing a large wooden pipe and offering it to the Diarch. Using his personal litigation droid Onyx to help translate anything he did not quite understand it was made clear that they wanted him to partake in some of the Herbal traditions of their culture.

Burning the natural substance inside with twine lit by the great bonfire, Rellik sat and bonded with the Elders of the Murkath society with a few Ho'Din loyalists amongst them. They talked about alchemy, plants and holistic medicine from their Ho'Din members and educated strength from seasoned warriors.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto was running late to the celebrations on Moltok—not that he had intended to go in the first place. The evening had started as just another stroll through the corridors, lost in thought, until he ran into Diarch Rellik . What began as a casual exchange about Rellik's unnerving line of work and Laphisto's efforts over Bastion soon blurred into something else.

Before he knew it, the conversation carried them past one bulkhead, then another, until he was halfway through a discussion on battlefield logistics—when the familiar hiss of hydraulics brought him back to reality. The subtle tilt of the deck beneath his boots, the faint vibration of engines, and the unmistakable sterile lighting of a shuttle interior hit him all at once.

His ear flicked, brow furrowed, and he glanced around as if realizing for the first time that they were in transit. He wasn't sure if Rellik had planned this, or if he'd simply been too distracted to notice the Diarch leading him straight onto the shuttle.Either way, here he was.


The shuttle's landing ramp extended, letting humid air and the sharp scent of foreign flora flood the cabin. Straightening to his full seven-foot-eight height, Laphisto had to duck low to avoid cracking his head on the frame, grumbling as he stepped into the festivities below.

With a subtle sweep of the Force across his senses, he took in the chaotic scene—Makurth warriors in ritual garb, Ho'Din weaving between them with platters of exotic food, and the towering ziggurat wreathed in torchlight and smoke. Lone ear twitching, arms folded, Laphisto cast a sideways glance toward Rellik, silently wondering if this was some elaborate ploy or just the Diarch's odd sense of hospitality.Either way, this was going to be a long night—and he could feel it in his bones.

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Moltok | Objective 2
Tags: Ryu Jung

---

It was nearly time to begin. As the Diarch flexed and stretched, the tropical heat beginning to cause some sweat upon his bare chest, he eyed his potential allies and current adversaries in these war games.

He was in the process of analyzing the Saurians for any weaknesses when a familiar presence entered his view. He looked down at his apprentice, fresh from their victory upon Asation. A smile played softly on the Diarch's lips.

"Rise, my friend. I'm glad you are here, I was worried I'd have to face the gauntlet alone."

He knew the young man was still out to prove himself to his master, and the Diarch was glad he was getting so many chances to do so. It would be good for him, and this form of diplomacy was one that all warriors could understand. However, he worded caution to his disciple, knowing his penchant for the use of the Dark Side.

"Remember Ryu, we are to abstain from the force in this contest, remember your training with the Ysalamiri at the crucible, you've been trained well in the art of combat without the augmentation of the force. We want these beings as allies, take care to not sully their ancient combat by giving in to the desire to do harm and lash out with the force. Use your rage, channel it into focus, but control yourself. Always, control."

His apprentice was nearly ready to move beyond his masters shadow and take a pupil himself, Reign knew this, but the relationship would always be there and he would always impart what wisdom he could.

With that in mind, he took a few practice swings with his wooden saber, stepping forward and slipping into the form V posture he had become so well known for.

It was nearly time to begin.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Tags OPEN Laphisto

Rellik reveled in learning the history from the elders of the Murkath. The inner temple walls were lined with hieroglyphics that depicted the story of these people. To give his due respects he did his best to not falter in his attentiveness while listening. Struggling ever slightly due to the nature of the herbs that were being partaken in but Rellik was a man of alchemy and was relatively used to dealing with different substances.

A fascinating tidbit of information came from the relations of the Murkath and Ho'Din. As it was revealed the Ho'Din were the healers while the Murkath were the warrior class. Interestingly they were nocturnal in nature and most nights were filled with fighting while they rested in the sun and healed during the day. The humidity and dense foliage of the more jungle style terrain made fighting during the day a brutal affair. Something the Diarch would keep in mind, as right now they were dancing in the night. When the large bugs and natural predators rested but the Murkath were most volatile.

With that thought he looked around to ensure Laphisto was doing well. They were here as revered delegates - with the Murkath wanting access to more intergalactic means to subdue their planet and no longer rely on ancestral healing techniques created by the Ho'Din.

When he peered to his side he saw his compatriot and friend. The tall Laphisto standing only slightly shorter than the Murkath themselves. - Rellik wondered for a moment if he had ever even asked if he wanted to come to Moltok. Realizing that since their pilot informed them of how long the travel would take that Laphisto had been giving him a bit of a cold shoulder. Never mind that for now, he was here and Rellik would do his best to take this opportunity to get closer to his fellow high councilor.

As some Murkath warriors admired the Lilaste leaders armor, Rellik would excuse himself from the elders. Walking over to see how things were going and maybe have a chance to revel in the warrior nature of Murkath and Lilaste at the same time.

"How are we all doing over here?"

Noticing the customary nature that the Murkath gave to Laphisto by saluting with a fist to the chest Rellik did the same as he spoke.

"It is an honor to walk among one of your holy sites. Your elders were showing me the history of your world and the battles fought to become the warriors you are today."

The Murkath gave some slight grumbles about being interrupted while fascinated over their new friend but at the mention of previous battles the proud among them began reminiscing with the Diarch.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto wasn't surprised that he stood taller than the Makurth. In truth, there weren't many species in the galaxy that matched him in stature—let alone exceeded it. Seven-foot-eight and built like a walking monument, he was used to drawing attention when stepping into foreign territory. The Makurth, however, seemed to treat his presence less as spectacle and more as curiosity wrapped in potential. They didn't gawk—they measured. Assessed.

The only other being he'd ever known to match his height was Kebii'kara Solus . But where she moved with the calculated fury of a predator unshackled, Laphisto carried his size like a burden—silent, deliberate, measured. He did not loom for intimidation. He loomed because it was simply who he was.

The ziggurat grounds were alive—drumming heartbeats of Makurth war chants mixed with the soft, eerie whistles of the Ho'Din's wind instruments. Smoke from sacred fires curled like spirits between the pillars. The air was thick with the sharp scent of spice, sweat, and flora too wild to name. Laphisto's nostrils flared as he exhaled slowly, feeling the humidity cling to his scales and skin. His armor, wasn't ceremonial in design like most of the warriors who had gathered, had drawn a fair bit of attention—several warriors had been gesturing toward it, tapping their own chestplates in comparison. It was more reverent than mocking, though one younger Makurth had tried to mimic his stance with exaggerated precision. Laphisto hadn't commented, but the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth hadn't gone unnoticed.

And then came Diarch Rellik

The Diarch's voice cut through the air, warm and casual, as if he hadn't just drug his friend across half the galaxy and into the heart of a tribal unification ceremony. Laphisto didn't turn at first. His arms remained crossed over his chest, his stance statuesque—until the customary fist-to-chest salute from the Makurth was given not just to Rellik, but extended toward him. Only then did he incline his head in return, the slightest twitch of his ear betraying that ever-present wariness beneath the calm.

"How are we all doing over here?"

Laphisto tilted his head toward him, golden eyes glinting in the firelight. "I'd say better than expected, considering I was mid-conversation about Bastion's northern front when the deck under my feet tilted and I found myself aboard your shuttle," he said dryly, voice low and gravel-worn. "For a man of science, you've a terrible habit of bending time and conversation to your will."

He paused, glancing sidelong at the admiring Makurth. One of them stepped forward, nodding toward his armor with a series of guttural syllables. Laphisto offered a polite nod in return, though the cultural translation was still filtered through his own interpretation of warrior etiquette.

"I'll admit," he added, his voice quieter now, "I expected more theatrics. Firewalking. Beast-wrestling. Maybe being thrown into a pit to prove myself." His eyes finally met Rellik's. "Instead, I find myself inhaling jungle smoke beside painted warriors in the middle of a ceremony older than most civilizations I've known. Which begs the question—am I here as your honored guest… or as your shield, in case talks go south?"

It wasn't said with accusation. If anything, it was Laphisto's way of acknowledging the deeper purpose behind the Diarch's invitation. He knew Rellik saw layers where others saw only leaves. "But," he continued after a beat, "I'll give you this. It's rare to see cultures like this treated with reverence. Too many would rather bomb their temples and plunder their traditions in the name of progress." He uncrossed his arms and finally took a step closer to Rellik, enough to lower his voice beneath the surrounding revelry.

"Whatever your true motive, Rellik… you picked a good people to align with. They don't waste time with weakness. Neither should we." Then, with a glimmer of wry amusement in his tone, he added, "Just promise me the next time you hijack a conversation into an off-world diplomatic trip, you at least let me grab my tea first."

 

[Ryu Jung]

Objective II: A Battle to Remember!
Diarch Reign
​

Ryu had not figured the climate to cause him immediate discomfort. Surely, he was aware that was in fact a tropical planet and coming in full armor wasn't ideal for this sort of climate. But a practitioner of the dark side turns their discomfort into anger and he was ready to take his frustration out on these Makurth savages. They would bow before the combined might of him and mister. It was only a matter of time before they would prove their worth to the world that was already theirs. These savages would know the true might of the Diarchy but his heart dropped to his stomach when his master mentioned that he would be deprived of the force for this competition.

He did his best to hide his fear, although he was not skilled enough to mask it. His master could sense his uneasiness if he chose to. But it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter as they weren't the hosts of this event. Ryu trusted in his force powers to the point that it was nearly a crutch for him and that was something that needed correction. It probably would be more appropriate for Ryu to ask for any specific things that the Diarch Reign wished for him to work on but he did not want to appear weak. He would make up for it by dedicating himself to this trial of combat.

"Yes master." Ryu said as he rose. "I will not fail you in this endeavor. We will show these savages why we're feared and destined to rule the galaxy."

Ryu was cocky as always but it was mostly coming out of a place of fear than determination. To be handicapped from his abilities that he trained so hard to be proficient in. But he was willing to do what was necessary.

 

[Diarch Reign]

Tags: Ryu Jung OPEN

---

Reign could sense the sharp intake of fear in his apprentice. He looked at him kindly, the young man was quickly becoming a master of the Dark Side, but there was more to the force than this. So he opted to show his pupil kindness whenever he could.

"Do not be afraid Ryu. I know it is easier said than done, but you are more than just the force. Do you know why I am not afraid of this contest?"

The Diarch's vibrant green eyes locked on to those of his first pupil.

"Because I have you with my Ryu. We can do this together"

With a mighty gong, the Makurth team opposite them charged forward, it took the Diarch a moment to gauge his opponents.
Reign was big, but they were.. bigger.

Not wanting to show weakness to his hosts, he charged forward, singling out the first of the large beings. His opponent was wielding a large Stave, and swung it heavy handed towards the Diarch.

Sliding low along the ground, Reign ducked the attack to pop up and attempt to end his duel with an attack to the head.

 

[Zinayn]

The shuttle exited hyperspace, jerking violently and sputtering down to the landing pad, on its last legs. Zinayn gritted his teeth as the transport's repulsorlifts practically gave up as he was guiding it down to the surface. Thankfully, the vessel was only a few feet above the ground, so the 'crash' wasn't that bad. Tension exited his body like birds flocking away from a loud noise as he sighed, and he walked over to the already open hatch. He made a mental note to request a new transport from Laphisto ... preferably very soon.

The Chiss had arrived quite late (due to the mechanical difficulties) and knew that he'd have to make up for it. As he approached the gathering at the ziggurat, he could make out the unmistakable form of the High Commander. Next to him was someone a bit less recognizable from a physical standpoint, but who's presence in the Force was nearly impossible to ignore. Diarch Rellik . A group of Makurth warriors crowded around the two, seemingly revering them.

While others would struggle to push through the throng of tall, muscular beings, Zinayn let the Force do the work for him, letting his presence fill the space and make the Makurth aware of him. The crowd parted slightly and allowed him a direct line to the Diarch and Laphisto.

"Apologies for my tardiness; my transport has grown increasingly unreliable," Zinayn said, dipping his head towards the two. "If you'll excuse me, I believe there is a mock battle taking place? I would hate to miss out."

The Chiss nodded towards them again before departing in a different direction, the crowd parting around him like he was a foul odor. As he walked, he noticed the humidity and the sweat already forming on his brow. Maybe he did stink.

Suddenly, a shrill cry rang through the air. He responded instantly and ran over to the source. He arrived in time to see the mock battle begin, and several Makurth begin their charge. On the side closest to him, Diarch Reign stood alongside someone he hadn't met yet, but exuded the dark side.

Zinayn reached out to his side and snatched a wooden sword from an armory that he hadn't noticed, and ran into the arena. More like stumbled. As soon as he was on the dusty, sandy floor, he remembered: No Force powers. He looked down at his inner robes, feeling the Force flowing through them to boost his agility. He sighed and took both robes off, leaving on his non-Force enhanced undergarments. He quickly folded both sets of clothes and set them down at the entrance to the pit before running into the fray. Reign was already in combat, sliding under an attack and countering. The Chiss turned his gaze to another Makurth attempting to help his buddy double team the Diarch, and dashed forward, aiming to slam his wooden weapon into the back of the creature's knee in hopes it would fall.

Ryu Jung

 

[Silas Vizsla]

A ship arrives out of hyperspace, a modified Mandalorian Kom'rk Class Starfighter rapidly glides through the emptiness of space towards the planet. A signal chirps into the comm of Laphisto as the ship begins to approach the upper atmosphere. Compared to the other times the ship has been seen, it was almost surprising to see it completely in one piece without any blast marks over it's hull.

A code is sent from the ship to Laphisto's comm, making a chime, a familiar set of code making itself known to the surrounding.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Objective I: Join the Dance!​

Tags: OPEN / Laphisto

Rellik let out a hearty laugh at Laphisto's comments. His intention was not to drag him on this incursion but he was happy he was enjoying himself. Whispering back as to not be offensive with his next words.

"Perhaps you should spend a few moments with the elders. The teas and leaves in general they will have you try are quite exotic. There might not be any fighting going on but I am barely on my feet and I am a mad man who tests out most of his own alchemical work personally."

It would be hard to tell how much truth was in Relliks words or if he was just playing around. He did not seem to be fumbling around but he seemed overall happy.

Turning to look up at his friend and more openly he spoke freely. Figuring to play along with the narrative for now.

"Well you know that the art of conversation and influence is its own science. So perhaps, or simply maybe in the back of my mind I wanted you to come my friend. You are my honored compatriot, we are the Diarchy together. Not just Reign and I. There might come a day when I must be your shield, if it ever does - I will not hesitate."

Rellik gave off an infectious smile and nudged the larger man before turning back to look at the races of Moltok before them.

"All life is beautiful, these people deserve the chance to be seen. Have their culture and history celebrated. How can we unify the galaxy if we do nothing but destroy it." He gazed out at the beauty of the event before them. Reveling in the moment. Yet to relieve the revelry and reignite the more jovial nature, he joked around again. "If we are lucky, maybe there will be a wrestling pit." The Diarch gave a out of place cough that seemed forced for comedic effect. "Perhaps if they do you can find yourself lucky enough to have a mud pit fight with one of the Ho'Din." Rellik lifted one of the pipes given to him by an eldar and sparked the leaves with a small shock of lightning from his finger. Giving Laphisto a wink as he did so.

On que with his last words and small jab - the people of Moltok began to stir with excitement. At first the Diarch believed that another custom was beginning but he noticed a small signal chirp coming from Laphistos comm.

The Murkath and Ho'Din were getting ready to welcome a new guest. Rellik looked to the sky to see a modified Starfighter coming out of the sky.

"A Friend of yours?"

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto watched as Rellik lifted the pipe with that ever-dramatic flair, sparking it with a flick of lightning like he was igniting the secrets of the universe. The Ho'Din elder beside him nodded in approval, and for a moment, the ceremonial glow of the firelight almost made the whole scene look reasonable. Almost.

Then Rellik turned, winked, and made some offhand joke about mud wrestling a Ho'Din. The delivery was smooth. Too smooth. He wasn't trying to impress Laphisto he was trying to bait him. Of course he is. Laphisto didn't say anything. Didn't need to. He reached out, plucked the pipe cleanly from Rellik's fingers mid-inhale, and brought it to his own lips without a word.

Just one draw. Controlled. Measured. The flavor hit like a live wire. Burnt moss. Battery acid. Maybe something floral, but only in the way a stun grenade might be called bright. His throat burned. His tail flicked once, sharply. His wings shifted in protest, shoulders squaring slightly. He didn't cough. Wouldn't. But his stare turned flat as he slowly exhaled the acrid smoke through his nose, handing the pipe back with the grace of a man returning a weapon to someone who shouldn't have it.

"I see your definition of 'enlightenment' hasn't changed," he muttered, voice hoarse. "Next time, warn me when you're using experimental compounds and not tradition." Rellik laughed, as expected, and Laphisto didn't bother trying to hide the twitch in his jaw. He could already feel the aftertaste clinging to his teeth. His inner ear tingled. Somewhere in the distance, a drumline changed rhythm and for a moment, he wasn't entirely convinced it hadn't been inside his skull.He folded his arms and turned his gaze skyward, focusing on the faint gleam of something descending through the clouds. His comm chirped a beat later. Saved by the bell.

The chirp from his comm cut clean through the layered sounds of Makurth drums and jungle noise. Laphisto didn't glance down. He didn't need to. He knew that signalburned into memory. He shifted his weight slightly as the Kom'rk-class starfighter broke atmosphere, its silhouette knifing through the clouds with familiar precision. As it descended toward the landing pad, he tilted his head, studying the lines of the hull. No blackened carbon scarring. No obvious field repairs. Clean.

Laphisto's lone ear twitched. "My High General," he replied flatly. He waited a beat, then added half for Rellik, half for himself "And the last person I'd expect to show up in a clean ship." The ship banked low over the treetops before easing down onto the jungle landing pad. Laphisto stepped forward without a word, the ceremonial crowd parting around him out of instinct more than design. He moved with purpose wings partially folded, tail sweeping the dust lightly behind him, armor dull beneath the flicker of torchlight. When the boarding ramp lowered and the High General emerged, Laphisto met him at the base with a closed fist tapped once against his chest, nodding in quiet greeting.

"Welcome to Moltok," he said, voice low but clear. "The jungle's alive, the locals are watching, and Rellik already tried to kill me with something that tasted like burnt moss and battery acid." A dry smirk tugged briefly at the edge of his mouth. "You've arrived just in time."He turned and gestured toward the torchlit path that wound back toward the central ziggurat, fire casting long, shifting shadows along the stone.

"There's a ceremonial dance if you're brave, a pit fight if you're reckless, and tea if you've completely given up on living," he said, voice flat, though the edge of sarcasm was unmistakable. "Pick your poison. Mine already tried to kill me." The jungle buzzed faintly in the silence between drums. Crickets, low wind, the occasional grunt from a Makurth elder. Laphisto let the sounds wash around him as he walked, pace steady and unhurried.

He barely made it three steps when something inside him caught. It wasn't external. Not heat. Not pressure. It wasn't the Force, either. Just wrong. The sensation crawled up from his lower chest tight, slow, coiling like a slow-turning blade along the inside of his ribs. Not pain, exactly. Not yet. But it stole his breath for a moment, and that was enough. Laphisto stopped mid-step, his ear flicking back, jaw tightening. He didn't speak. Didn't wince. Just held still, let the moment pass. The fire in his blood faded as quickly as it came, but a trace lingered like smoke that refused to clear. That's new. He resumed walking as if nothing had happened, his tone unshaken when he finally spoke again. "Let's move," he muttered. "Before someone decides to put feathers on me and call it tradition."

Diarch Rellik Silas Vizsla

 

[Diarch Rellik]

​

The pipe, still warm from Rellik's fingers - disappeared between Laphisto's claws. One drag. No theatrics. No cough. But Rellik saw it. The twitch of his jaw. The slight flare of his nostrils. The faintest tension in the wings. There was something deeply satisfying about watching a man like Laphisto do something against his better judgment and Rellik was grinning because Laphisto had just sipped a little piece of the wild side. In his heart he believed it was a sign of comradery - not only with the people of Multok but with the Diarch himself. Laphisto was a good leader, not only in war but in more subtle fashions.

The introduction of Laphistos high general though gave the Diarch a slight pause. He was a bit dumbstruck as he tried his best to pull his demeanor together and reform himself to a man of nobility. As the ramp lowered and Laphisto saluted, Rellik bowed deeply. Doing his best to show his own humility in the face of the Lilaste order.

and Rellik already tried to kill me with something that tasted like burnt moss and battery acid."

Despite his best efforts, the Diarch did let out an audible chuckle at that part. He could not help it. - As the two settled in he approached them and introduced himself.

"Diarch Rellik, it is an honor to meet you High General."

With the trio now introduced Laph suggested they return to the Ziggurat and partake in the festivities.

As they approached the ziggurat drumers changed rhythm, and a Makurth elder who was painted in blood-red ochre and adorned with a jagged bone crest had stepped forward to address the crowd. The gathering hushed, save for the fire's crackle and the distant cry of some night-dwelling predator in the jungle.

Then, as if on cue, the smoke shifted.

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. But the colors in the fire began to deepen. There were shades of emerald, violet, and flickering white hot strands that didn't belong to natural flame. Rellik tilted his head, watching as the bonfire's shape twisted, not outward, but upward, like some unseen hand was pulling it skyward. - Tilting his head towards Laphisto who was at his side he gave a quick remark.

"Alright, maybe the Ho'Din were on to something here."

Figures in the smoke. Dancers. Not physical, but not imagined either. They flickered with the light; Makurth in old bone armor, their forms ritualized, abstract. Beside them: towering Ho'Din wrapped in living vines, their serpent like hair moving as if underwater. The two species circled each other in the flame, locked in an eternal pattern - clash, retreat, heal, offer. Warriors and healers. Fury and restoration.

Rellik exhaled softly, lips parting in awe. "Fascinating… Do you see this as well my friend?"

He then turned to observe the Makurth, clustered closer to the flames now, whispering war-songs under their breath. He could feel the tension in them. It was clear, the Makurth saw the Diarchy as kin. Warriors. Rulers. Symbols of order through might.

As his gaze travelled through the fire pits observers it was clear that the Ho'Din, however, regarded them differently.

He could sense it, they were not uninterested. Just… careful. The Makurth wanted to unify through strength. The Ho'Din waited to see what would become of them.

Rellik turned toward a Ho'Din female serving water with roots within it near him. "Is this how your ancestors first saw each other?" he asked. "In fire and smoke?"

The Ho'Din's many eyes blinked slowly, lips curling into something between a smile and a riddle.

"No," she said, voice like rustling leaves. "They first met in war. Then, in silence. Now, in balance. The fire reminds them of the cycle."

Rellik nodded, letting the words settle in his mind.

Laphisto Silas Vizsla

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Objective I
Tags: Zinayn Ryu Jung

---

As Reign came up high, the massive being simply turned the stave vertically, blocking his attack and sweeping out with his tail knocking the Diarch from his feet.

Rolling with the momentum, Reign was able to turn the fall into a move to create a little distance between himself and his opponent. He had heard Zinayn engage with one of the other Makurths and was grateful of the aide.

Moving to engage again, the Diarch feigned a high strike, causing his opponent to go into a high block, but instead dropped low to smash the "edge" of his wooden blade into the beings torso.

Rewarded with a loud huff as the air left his dueling partner, the Diarch capitalized with a strike to the back of the neck, putting his opponent out of the fight for the time being.

 

[Zinayn]

His wooden weapon connected with a sickening crunch, and the Makurth's knee buckled forward, and it fell face-first into the dirt. Its claws scrabbled against the sandy ground in an attempt to get up. A snarling face turned to look at him, and it only saw the shadow of a descending strike before everything went dark.

Glancing to his side, Zinayn noted that Diarch Reign had taken care of his target. There were still other Makurth active in the arena, prowling about as if sizing their enemies up. Seeing their brothers dispatched so easily didn't give them pause, as one might expect, instead making them even hungrier for battle.

One drooling opponent caught Zinayn's eye, and he beckoned to him. Without hesitation, his new target bounded across the arena and entered a leaping strike, slamming his club down on the ground where Zinayn had been standing. However, the Chiss hadn't decided to stand still. His gaze was now on his opponent's hunched back, wooden stick held high over his head. He came down with back-breaking force (literally) and the Makurth sprawled out in the dust, groaning.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto stood in silence, the orange wash of the firelight painting shadows across his armor. He kept his arms loosely folded across his chest, wings still, tail resting coiled behind one leg. His stance didn't change, but something in his eyes did a subtle narrowing, a flicker of reflection behind them as he watched the smoke shift. The flames moved unnaturally. He saw it before most did. Not with awe, but with focus. Patterns stretched skyward emerald, violet, too bright in places to be heat alone. Not sorcery. Not the Force. Just intention. Channeled belief and practiced symbolism. He'd seen rites like this before, long ago. Not here. Not like this. But close enough.

He said nothing when the first of the dancers began to emerge in the smoke Makurth warriors locked in a rhythm of battle and honor, Ho'Din wrapped in movement that felt like breath given form. They clashed. Pulled away. Offered peace. And did it again. A cycle. When Rellik spoke beside him, tone hushed and reverent, Laphisto didn't interrupt. He let the Diarch feel the moment however he wanted. But his own reaction remained internal. Symbolism, he thought. Nothing more. But well played. he Makurth saw warriors in the flame. Fighters who earned strength through trial. The Ho'Din saw the same fire and waited for the silence after. Two cultures watching the same vision, but for different truths.

Laphisto's eyes tracked a swirl of smoke that rose higher than the rest one Makurth figure lifted in ethereal flame before vanishing into a white-hot strand of light. Something about it echoed faintly in his chest. Not power. Not prophecy. Just memory. Distant. Cold. He blinked, pushed it down. He turned his head slightly as the Ho'Din female spoke to Rellik. Her words were soft, layered, and distant but Laphisto caught them. He didn't comment. Didn't need to. Instead, he shifted his weight slightly and said, more to Diarch Rellik than the Ho'Din, "They built something that lasted. And they built it in blood first. Then silence."