Objective: Kill all of them
Location: In the hallways towards the Main Hub
Allies:
Darth Solipsis
Halketh
Darth Mori Dimitri Voltura
Enemies:
Aaran Tafo
Marcel von Ascania
Starlin Rand
Caltin Vanagor
Jared Starchaser
Equipment: Staff of Dakrul,
Cursed Gen'Dai Flesh Armour
As flesh, bones, and sinew set themselves back into place the hulking monstrosity took shape, six armed and oddly postured Dakrul once again grew to his full size. Bits and pieces of flesh eerily missing. He was entirely lacking a right leg from his knees down, in its stead a fledging pinkish terrifyingly intertwined spirals of tendrils. Moving organelles substituting the rest of his foot. Chunks of his chest and lumps of his appendages were gone revealing the freakish hollow bone structure of the insectoid.
With the other Hungering abolished by the explosion, it was up to him to kill the young Jedi with his blue eyes.
Jared Starchaser
would be offered to the greatness of the Avatars, to be swallowed by the maw of the apocalypse. Another flickering candle drowned out, another light silenced.
He would ignore the illusion of the misguided
Caltin Vanagor
, the younglings had been slain by his hand and these patsy magic tricks wouldn't work on him anyhow, his vision of the world was much different, these silhouettes of light meant nothing.
“Enough of this.” the youngster before him hissed.
Dakrul knew enough basic to understand the guardian's meaning. With his staff cast aside by the explosion, and no dread blades on him, the sithspawn atrocity would attempt to slay his opponent in direct one-to-one combat. As the frightful killer advanced he once again reached out into the mind of his prey. This time he would not prie, he would not seek an opening no, this time he would create one. A booming screeching sound screamed into the boy's head. Like an earthquake, it sought to shatter his mind, shake his balance, put a crack in the foundations of his connection to the force.
At the same time, he was countered by the light the brown-haired humanoid called upon, it wasn't enough to severe his occult bond but it was enough to burn, to sizzle his essence, to cook it in the heat of the ashla. But not enough to halt his onslaught, not enough to drive him off. He would cull this little flame, extinguish it and watch its essence dissipate into the Nether at sundown.
The terrifying fiend marched forward to pounce on the defender. Again moving in an arachnid fashion crawling forwards even on his ruptured feet to attack. Simutasiosly the dark spears called forth by
Halketh
rushed into existence manifested by shadows and catapulted themselves at the hopefully startled Jedi.
He would have to deal with both Darth's projectiles and an advance of the crazed murdering mutant and his sound-based assault.
Meanwhile, his thrall were feasting on the corpses of the dead. The fleeing Jedis had put up a fight, it hadn't been long but they had struggled. From all over the galaxy they had pilgrimaged here to defend the few spare lives raised and protected in this secret bunker of hope. All that was now shattered, disembodied and its blood and gore spilled. The spoils of war for the victors, The Hungering were feeding, intaking the living force energies of the light-bearers, it was necessary, its juices would fester their soul, power that would run through their emptied veins again. It was the key to their permanent binding onto this place.
The pack would harvest their flesh, licking the sinews of the cadavers, leaving nothing but bones and skulls behind.
Romi Jade
now stood face to face with the Dark Lord himself waiting in the moonlight.
