Blood and Sand (OS dominion of N'zoth)

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=1/20]​

Objective: B – gotta love that capital
Location: In orbit
Allies: OS | 1 x squad Sitherhood troopers
Enemies: tbc
Theme: Mayhem

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ud7b3sNKX-U

Melori reflected on what she knew about the planet below. N'zoth was the fifth planet in the N'zoth system, located in the Farlax sector in the Koornacht Cluster, near the Core Worlds. It was most well known for being the home world of the Yevetha – who were really creepy looking if she were honest.

Looking out of her view-port she could see it was an arid planet and knew it had a standard gravity and a breathable atmosphere. The brutal, xenophobic Yevetha were the planet’s only sentient species, although other native species such as the siringana were equally merciless and brutal. So at least they had one redeemable feature.

But she was heading specifically for the capital – Giat Nor. It apparently had a population of one million Yevetha. Outsiders were forbidden to enter – but Melori was about to break that rule as the pilot indicated they would soon be landing at the royal palace. Although it was officially empty, with no viceroy or royal ruler, after the disappearance of Nil Spaar, many Yevethans continued to hold out hope that he would return and Melori believed that it would be a fitting and demonstrable way to make an entrance.

For in truth she was no longer Melori – Sith Acolyte. She was now Darth Timoris and the locals would soon come to fear her. And wanton destruction was always a good place to start.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[7/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

And return he did. She could see him scrambling up from a pile of manure. He was displeased. Saiah would not let them reunite, but unleashed a flurry of fluent strikes at her opponent. He avoided most dexterously, but she clipped him in the leg before his accomplice returned. His stench betrayed him, and Saiah knew he came. She whirled about and thrusted the blade of her lightsabre through his mouth and out the back of his skull, severing the base of his spine. With a force-imbued kick to his abdomen, she released him from her scarlet plasma blade before it could sear through his skull. Then, she turned back to the one that had stabbed her in the back. The wound throbbed angrily as Saiah strode back and forth in front of him. He was looking for a chance; she was waiting for his move.

“Surrender.”

She cut the ground with the tip of her blade, turning sand into a glassy, jagged substance. He looked at her with hatred in his eyes, tensed his legs and with a flash of knives he attacked her again, choosing to chance death rather than submit. Such a wonderful spirit. She raised her sabre and took his hand while dancing to the side. She held the tip of her sabre pointed down to her side. Her left arm copied the stance, but could not move as freely due to the stab in her shoulder.

“Surrender yourselves to the Sith. Fight for me.”

He came at her once more, and this time she responded with something far more arcane. Her hands met in front of her, left gripping the top of her sabre to give her right hand more freedom, and as she extended the fingers of her right hand, she channelled her passions, her anger, their fear and her pain through the tips of her fingers. Lightning shot out and stopped the Yevetha in his tracks. More so by shock than real injury.

“Our ships will blot out the sun as we descend upon this planet. Submit and fight for us, or face a fate worse than death.” My which she meant slavery: Being shackled in a factory to create weapons for their Sith overlords. Or they could join their troops and use the weapons. The Order of the One Sith were always looking for new recruits.

 

[Darth Veles]

4/20
Objective: I have no idea what I'm doing
Location: Pub
Allies: No

The bartender put a glass on the bar before filling it with water his “customer” desired so much, all followed by the amphibian’s firm gaze. Several credits landed right next to the glass and Avreet carried his drink over to an empty table, sipping the cool water on his way there. It was only a matter of time before one of the patrons mustered up enough courage to get up and follow the newcomer, sitting by the table as well without bothering to ask the lone amphibian for an invitation. Veles paid them no mind, drinking the cool liquid without a care in the world. The right, bionic orb did perform a swift glance over the due of patrons who have seated themselves opposite of him though; one put his bottle of beer on the table and casually started reloading his gun while another started grinning, snicker escaping his mouth.

“You new here, goggly-eyes?”

The silence vanished and what followed was a wave of laughter. Avreet wasn’t as amused though.

Another sip of water and Avreet shrugged, smirk threatening to play with his lips a bit too much for him to keep up the serious expression.

“No, I’m a regular here, friend. You’re just too drunk to remember me. You should leave before you drink too much to walk… and take your friend here with you.”

The Dark Side easily ensnared the intoxicated man’s mind, forcing the Sith Lord’s will onto him. No hand waving, no gentle Jedi-like suggestions and commands – Avreet had ruthlessly invaded the drunk’s head, turning him into an obedient tool under his control. It wasn’t Avreet’s intention to bring the man any harm or to damage his already rotting mind, but the Sith wanted to drink in peace after the long trip through the desert. He wouldn’t be disturbed, by this man or anyone.

The thrall did as commanded. Getting up, seemingly oblivious to the surprised stare of his friend that froze in the middle of reloading his blaster pistol and raised his head, eyes showing the unspoken question that gnawed at his mind. Without saying a word, the “slave” suddenly grabbed his mate and started dragging him towards the door – something the latter stopped with a punch. Soon enough, the entire pub joined the fray. Hot minds and cold beer never mixed well together and this was no exception. Even the bartender’s been forced into the fight after an unsuccessful attempt to stop the patrons from making a mess out of the room. Only one being remained seated, watching the fight of the drunks and sipping water. Violence, anger, pain, all was present, all empowered the Dark Side which in turn gave power to the Sith, replenishing strength in his body.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [1/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Transport to Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

"Stebbles, why did you tell me to step on this transport?" Yurzhoc's deep pools of black looked around, bony native creatures steering a transport without a single clack of words or gestures. Despite the large Yuuzhan Vong sitting there, in Vonduun armor and amphistaff coiled about his shoulder, he remained silently belligerent, except for the words spoken to his amphistaff. With a suspicious gaze towards his pilots and quiet transporters, he starred out into the sea of emptiness before him. "Of course I would have killed them. They are small things with skinny arms!" Flexing his forearm in a display of superiority, he looked towards the Yevetha pilot and smiled, teeth filed to points in a row. It was not reciprocated and he nearly ground the enamel into dust.

Activating the Tizowyrm, he began to speak in their tongue. "Where are you taking me, little skinny armed creature?" The Yevetha turned, showing just a hint of shock, before focusing back on transit. "Valley of Rejection." Yurzhoc made a 'not bad' face, looking towards the silent Yevetha in the back of the seat. "That sounds pretty serious. What is my crime?"

"Not being Yevetha." The two in the back laughed, Yurzhoc joined in, his boom of laughter was boisterous and overwhelming. "You are right, little alien things. I am MUCH BETTER!" He planted his foot against the dash. "Stebbles!" In a split second, the amphistaff uncoiled and struck the neck of the driver, injecting immediately with acid. Yurzhoc, flexing, caved in the dash and pushed back. The seat dislodged and the whole apparatus landed in the lap of the Yevetha behind him, crushing him to death in a single moment. Yurzoc, oddly at peace with his current predicament, turned to the last Yevetha and smiled, blocking the first attack and proceeding to headbutt the cranial skinny alien to death.

As the symphony of destruction continued, the transport skittered across the surface and careened violently into the Valley of Rejection, taking out several makeshift shacks put in place by those more intent on a permanent stay.

 

[Darth Veles]

5/20
Objective: None... yet
Location: Desert, moving towards Hariz
Allies: No

[SIZE=10.5pt]It wasn’t until the last drop of water disappeared in his mouth and when the Dark Side had sated his appetite for power before Veles finally got up, frowning at the scene. Raising his left hand, the Sith Lord proved to be well-versed in the dark arts of the Force as he unleashed a red stream of lightning-like energy that tore through several men and robbed them of their energy, leaving all on the brink of death while the Sith feasted on their lives and felt like he’s been reborn, full of strength and power.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Enough of this,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] he said firmly and loudly in a commanding tone when all combatants stopped and turned their gazes at him – not in mockery anymore, but in fear. Some even covered their eyes in terror, believing the motionless bodies on the floor to be dead. Which they were not, not completely, but the power than had taken them down was definitely unnatural and extremely dangerous. The webbed hand of this mysterious stranger remained raised as if intending to strike again with the crimson stream of energy of his – albeit Avreet had rotated his hand, palm facing the ceiling now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Keys from your speeder bikes, gentlebeings.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Fear in their eyes revealed the same feeling in the hearts of these men that suddenly no longer cared about drinking as much as saving their very lives. It did wonders and soon enough Avreet’s outstretched hand clutched several keys. Paying the patrons no more heed, the amphibious Sith turned on his heels and marched out of the bar, back on the searing desert, his strides just as confident as when he walked in. One of the fools would soon enough discover their speeder to be missing and if any of them looked past the veil of intoxication and stared into the distance, they’d be able to see a figure driving towards the city. No man followed the Sith though; their keys remained in his possession.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]It was dangerous to drive when intoxicated, anyway.[/SIZE]

 

[Vrag]

[5/20]
Objective: Punch the nice lady
Location: Giat Nor
Enemies: [member="Fabula Caromed"] (who isn't really a nice lady)​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBFhvEQMPME​

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The orange blade of her opponent — of her busty opponent, at that — hissed against her own, forcing it out of its initial trajectory and consequentially maintaining the integrity of her thigh. What a pity.

Before she could use the momentum lent to her by the Force-given strength behind the parry of her foe, said foe was already moving into the wide measure with quickened backsteps, her face contorting in a hatred one could only ascribe to non-Jedi. Good? Bad? Vrag didn't really care for the labels the rest of the Galaxy so adored; the title of Sith was there because she never bothered to change it — though the more attentive would also note that she had never confirmed it either — but it was convenient, and so she had played along.

In the end, whatever hypernym the woman before her wore, Vrag would pay it no heed. Her lightsaber would cut her flesh — annoyingly... healing flesh, of course —all the same whether the warrior was a witch, a Sith, a Dark Jedi, or some other name entirely that she'd never bothered to learn about.

Instead of wasting precious seconds on such pointless pondering, the Hand grasped the carbine clinging to her back, resting it into the nook of her elbow as she squeezed the trigger and sent the thud bugs flying towards her enemy. At this range, and with the speeds involved, the charging brunette would be hard-pressed to avoid the homing beasties eager to assault her flesh and break her unprotected bones.

Oh, how Vrag loved blunt force trauma. There was nothing quite like it, and if anybody had mastered that concept, it was the Force-dead creatures careening towards her opponent for a head-on collision. Beautiful.

In the small moment of respite, the firrerreo had stopped worrying her broken bottom lip, because there was no more blood to suck out of it; instead the woman had focused on reasserting her footing upon the heat-cracked asphalt beneath her feet, her saber at the ready when her foe finally came into reach. Her blade went left, into the sixth guard, but her opponent's suddenly wasn't there anymore; it was, regrettably, hissing against the Vonduun covering her arm above the elbow. Oh, bother.

The Skerr Ygdris reeled, angry, agitated, hurt, and Vrag obliged, snapping to the left with a quick balestra that would bring her close and past her foe; more importantly, it would deliver that poised elbow of the sixte directly into that pretty face even as the firrerreo disengaged from blade contact. Quite… Handy, no?

 

[Laguz Vald]

[6/20]
Objective: Mentally scar one Underlord
Location: Black-15
Allies: [member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Dakita Calfur"]​

​

​

The annoyingly sneaky creature that was Laguz Vald always seemed to be there before everybody else, gaining entrance by virtue of xir dashing smile — appropriated to whichever species xe was imitating at the moment — while the rest of xir unlikely co-hirelings would have to bother the long way.

Well, most of the time. Not when the infamous Bane was on their side, of course, because then all doors would open to let them right through, accompanied with drinks on the house and Gods knew what else. Xe hadn't had the pleasure of personally meeting the chiss as of yet, but xe sure wouldn't mind to have it, even if it was on some orbital yard above a planet currently beleagured by the forces of the One Sith.

Ah, the One Sith; the collective by whose courtesy the shifter was now naught but a hole in the Force, rendered practically undetectable save for what room xir own mistakes left; and after more than two centuries of practice, those were few and far in between.

Which was a particularly good thing when you were pretending to be a part of a very violent, very xenophobic, and very 'shoot-first-ask-questions-later' species. Or was it 'let-blood-first-ask-questions-later'? In all honesty, Laguz didn't want to linger too much on that issue. It made xem feel slightly uncomfortable.

To try and push that unpleasant thought out of xir head, the sniper, currently in the guise of one of the higher castes of the Yevetha, would try to stand about as convincingly snobbishly as xe could. By now, xe had perfected the aloof glower, the slight pinch to xir lips, and the slightly upturned nose. The only thing that remained was that annoyingly shrill aristocratic voice, but xe had time.

Oh, xe had time aplenty, because as always, Laguz was here first.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[8/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

A general murmur of guttural sounds resounded through the immediate crowd. Saiah stared at her defiant opponent. It was not up to him, but his next move would determine much of the outcome. The pale Yevetha watched with arms crossed and hands balled into fists. Its face contorted in a grimace of disapproval. Saiah looked at it as she walked closer to her opponent and held her buzzing, scarlet blade next to his head.

“Very well.”

She thrusted her blade into his shoulder and threaded it through his torso almost to the hilt. He screamed as the blade seared through his left lung and several organs. Blood spluttered from his mouth. Saiah deactivated her lightsabre and placed a swift kick to the side of his jaw, then left him to his death. Her eyes now fixed on their pale, genderless leader.

“Are you going to fight me, or will I have to murder all of your best?”

The fury of the leader was tangible. It would make a good Sith if it had any significant affinity with the Force. For now, it was just another petty leader refusing to kneel. Saiah painstakingly raised her left arm. This one was too hell-bent on defying her to be susceptible for mind control, and she wanted to tame this beast, not kill it. However, if she must, she must. Another flash of lightning shot from her fingers and danced across the leader’s form. However, he stayed defiant. He even stayed standing, even if he did scream he had not yielded yet. Around them, a mixture of shrill cheers and cries resounded. Saiah quit her lightning; it had never been her best skill anyway. Instead, she reached out with telekinesis and put an increasing weight on the pale one’s shoulders. She saw its eyes widen a bit in surprise, and its face contorted in strain as he tried to keep standing.

“You look weary. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Saiah grinned maliciously as she increased the pressure; her fingers contorted like claws, and her eyes were alight. She would break every bone in its body if she had to.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [2/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

The shantytown lodging crackled and crushed beneath the tumbling weight of the transport, the three dead Yevethans, and Yurzhoc Shai, greatest Yuuzhan Vong warrior in the galaxy. Cracking open the metal door, Yurzhoc rolled out and breathed air fresh in heresy and meandering sand. Standing up, he patted down the vonduun armor, kicking the transport with a left foot and rubbing Stebbles. "That's what happens when you use technology. Yuuzhan Vong...far more reliable."

Just then, he turned to find the small town coming alive with Yevetha, an ant hill stirring after the crushing. He smiled as one approached him, pallid and scrawnier than the others. "You are uglier than the others. What ails you, puny alien thing?" The monster returned in silence, broaching something uncomfortable with a long pause, indicating the potential for thought. "Grey death. I'm an outcast...though not nearly as low as you."

"That's interesting you would say that. Being around you people makes me feel mighty."
"I don't fear death or pain..." The grey thing retracted his dew claws and began moving forward.

Yurzhoc laughed another boisterous appeal, whipping his hands down as the fighting claws extended from his knuckles. "We are similar in many ways it seems, trivial little Grey Death!"

The putrid Yevetha approached in a sickly run, swinging wildly and without focus. Yurzhoc ducked and moved to the left before stabbing upward, jamming the fighting claw deep into the beings throat, straight into the brain. Holding him there, through the spasms, Yurzhoc leaned forward and inhaled loudly as more approached. "I have heard this called a dominance killing. I will destroy everything in it's name."

He looked up from the jolting corpse, before dropping it in a plume of debris. "So...I think I like this planet, Stebbles!" Hands out o'clock, he waited for the next to approach in an attempt to assert dominance.

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Post: {6/20}
Objective: 4.....Searching for Artifacts (Bones)
Location: Ruins (Temple)
Allies: OS
Enemy: More Dark Jedi (x3).....then Sand again

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4dAL33Yhr4[/youtube]​

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​

Creeping slowly into his mind to avoid detection, she began moving boxes of memories around until settling on one in particular, one that housed his greatest fear. The betrayal of his beloved Cassandra. The memory was ripe for the picking, and she would use it against him. Calling on her ability, memory walk, she pulled the memory to the front of his mind, forcing him to relive the day of the betrayal over and over again. The Dark Jedi dropped to his knees, gripping his head with both hands as he began to feel physical pain.​

​

While the memory haunted him, she needed to act fast. The ability was a powerful one but it did have side effects and she didn't wish to grant those to him. What she needed was an ally to face his comrades so she moved to breaking his will, turning him to her side. First came Force fear to weaken his already vulnerable mind, making it more appreciative of her suggestions.​

​

"I can take your pain away...erase the horrors of your past," she whispered into his mind. "I can be your Cassandra....your lost piece of yourself. Just turn around and take my hand.....my love."​

​

He looked up at her, tears streaming down from his eyes, and nodded. He extended his left hand out and she took it, helping him to his feet. ​

​

"There are others here with us," she continued to whisper, adding gentle brushes to his cheeks with both of her hands. "They have come to kill me...to kill us, my love. Only together can we defeat them...and when they are dead I will give you the one thing you desire above all else....forgiveness."​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[9/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

Their leader sunk down to one knee, but as he touched ground, one of their warriors lunged at Saiah with his dew claws. Perhaps he was trying to take her down in order to climb. Foolish thing. Letting go of their leader, she swiped her left hand through her hips and threw the warrior to the side. He rolled in the sand and got back to his feet with a number of scrapes.

“Do you see what happens to the people who defy us?”

She reached out to the attacker again, this time wrapping around his mind. He straightened up unnaturally and stared emptily into the void as he marched straight forward. As he passed Saiah’s right, she removed his head with a clean swipe of her sabre, and then stepped on it while the body wriggled on the sandy ground.

“Next please!"

She was starting to grow impatient, very impatient. Her gaze turned to their leader again, and it was still kneeling. Its face clearly ridden with doubts, choices, it was cracking. Another warrior stepped forward, this one armed with a blaster rifle, she recognised him as one of the guards from her arrival. He was spitting what she would only assume to be curses at her. He aligned his rifle, Saiah moved her blade, and as he fired, she struck the bolt aside, hitting another in the chest. Hitting another was not intentional, but she played it off as being so. With a movement of her wrist, she redirected her sabre and brought it shearing through the blaster rifle. Then, she thrust the blade into his eye. She did not penetrate fully, but simply blinded him on the left side and carved a line through his brow so that he would not forget what defiance got him. She pivoted a few times on fleet feet, her sabre held out in front of her as she looked for another opponent.

"Anyone else?" None? Thank you!"

 

[Darth Veles]

6/20

The journey to Hariz has proven to be significantly easier with a speeder bike carrying Darth Veles to his destination. Hot air whizzed around him in form of a refreshing breeze as he rode through the desert at great speed, easily crossing the great distance at good time and without needless exposure to any dangers that might have lurked in the beige plains. Grains of sand flew away as the heavy vehicle passed above the ground and pushed against the sand with its repulsorlifts in a small and harmless shower of sand that immediately became one with the surrounding desert after impacting the ground.

Unlike the capital, Hariz was much more open to visitors than Giat Nor, which obeyed strict system that forbit all outsiders from even entering. That wouldn’t have been a problem for the amphibious assassin; his mastery over bending light and shadow in photokinetic fashion made the task of infiltrating just about anything trivial, but while his task connected to the conquering of the capital, it was still different and had its place in Hariz. Both cities were connected by a hovertrain, which allowed for easy, safe and fast transport across the 150km of desert that separated the cities.

The plan had come to a halt after the speeder passed over another small dune and Avreet’s eyes witnessed the carnage unfolding in front of him. He had not anticipated the Sith to turn their gaze to this city, yet it appeared another wanted to include Hariz in their plans. Needless to say, Avreet’s plan did not include Graugs, sieges, murder and destruction. Maybe just a little bit of destruction, a small sabotage of the hovertrains to prevent soldiers stationed within the city from sending reinforcements to the capital. That wouldn’t be a problem now; the city happened to be in position of desperately needing reinforcements itself.

“By Zarrah’s montrals!” the Mon Calamari cursed and spat into sand, rapidly slowing down the speeder and stopping. Large orange orbs swivelled around, watching the scene as if from an apocalyptic movie.

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Objective: Expand Influence[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Location: Black Fifteen -- In orbit of N’zoth[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Allies: [member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Dakita Calfur"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px][2/20][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Thank you, mister Slicer.” the Underlord replied back, flashing him a short smile.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Most people didn’t really get his schemes, it was the nature of the beast really. When you had so much going on, so many ideas, so many [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]plots[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px] rolling into plots? It was only natural that you were the only one that got the entire picture, in some ways that was the entire point of it all, because even though Khal trusted these people?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Still felt good to not have to worry about leaks and such. Damn Wookieleaks.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“I will take a vacation when I am dead, Calfur.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]And while it might have been a joke from any other guy, they would get the distinct feeling that he was being very serious about that sentence and statement.[/SIZE]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [3/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

"Just...one...more...tug!" The dew claw came loose from another fallen Yevetha as Yurzhoc ripped from the appendage with a crunch and crack. Lifting himself from the swelling body, he looked towards the incoming Yevetha of the Valley of Rejection and gave an ere of nonchalance, picking his teeth with the dew claw. "What do you all have to eat around here?"

"Blood..."
"Blood?" Yurzhoc facially shrugged and rolled his shoulders, the sun beating down fiercely as the surrounding posse followed him and his large gait. Footsteps in the valley, he approached a ghetto form of a saloon and strolled through the doors. Dark and dank, those sipping on their cups of blood snarled in irritation to his presence and began to lift themselves from their haggard expressions. He paid them no mind, approaching the bar and snarling in response to the old war technology currently in use. Approaching the bar tender, he shook his head and sat down.

"I'll take whatever he's got..." Yurzhoc pointed to a random, and elderly, Yevethan. "We don't sell blood paste to outsiders, especially aliens!" The voice of the bartender was raspy yet confident, though how he was so confident, Yurzhoc was unsure. Lunging forward, he grabbed the the barkeep by the throat, slammed his head on the to table, and plunged the dew claw deep into the neck. The amphistaff rolled down the shoulder and gripped hard onto the wound, gulping ferociously. Yurzhoc put his hand to his mouth and backed away. "Stebbles! GROSS!"

Turning, he found the entirety of the store surrounding him with beady eyes and unsheathed dew claws. Through already opened wound, the fighting claws retracted and Yurzhoc knelt down. "Any time you are done, Stebbles, help would be GREAT!" And then it was on...on like donkey vong.

 

[Laguz Vald]

[7/20]
Objective: Mentally scar one Underlord
Location: Black-15
Allies: [member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Dakita Calfur"]​

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Now, always being first had its perk, that was for sure, but it also carried a great many annoyances with it. Namely, being stuck waiting on the rest, who usually weren't anywhere nearly as punctual or as speedy as the shifter. Laguz would, conveniently, ignore the fact that xe was possessed of advantages few others had, choosing instead to roll xir eyes egregiously as xe tapped xir foot.

In the end, it even fit with xir hastily crafted cover of a Yevethi noble — member of a higher caste, noble, it was all the same to Laguz — and the practice would surely come in handy at a certainy point in the future, when xe took on a contract that required a similar skillset. The sniper was greedy, not dumb, and having more knowledge never hurt anybody; it was the goals one invested it in that counted for something, and xir current goal was to rake in as much credits as xe possibly could from this stint.

The Underlord, late as he was, seemed like a good contact to keep, and so the prank that the shifter would pull on the man once he finally deigned to arrive would only be a mild one. Still, what constituted 'mild' for Laguz could very well be a cardinal insult to the criminal; one could never be completely sure, could one?

 

[Worm 20]

Objective: One
Location: A Yevetha breedery.
Allies: One Sith
[1/20]

Wearing a dark cloak had proven uncomfortable for Worm on this planet. The heat on N'Zoth had been something it was not used to in the least, growing up in a cell. It had hoped the heat would lessen once it entered one of the breederies, but there had been no perceptible change in temperature. The hiss of the closing door behind it at least brought some air flow to the whole affair, if only for a moment.

The two Yevetha guards were perplexed at the door opening and closing in front of them. Nobody of note had entered the place, and the one that had was certainly below their dignity to even acknowledge. It must have been an equipment failure of some kind. With that, they turned their attention back to guarding, and the wretched form walked past them, deeper into the building.

As Worm extended the reach of the Force Cloak to the big room ahead, it felt multiple existences. Most of them weak, disgusting things, like it had been before. Only one of the sentiences felt developed enough to be a threat, and it was soon enveloped in the threads woven out of Worm's inner disgust. It was only fuelled more by the presence of those fragile beings so similar to the thing it had been before.

Stepping through the door to the main chamber, Worm felt the attention of the breeding assistant focus on it, then dismiss it as unimportant. Big mistake. It had read about the reproduction of the Yevetha species, and it knew of the cruel way the young were fed. So it stepped up to the solitary creature tending one of the birth casks, and it decided for itself: it would not kill the unborn ones. Even though the orders had been clear, Worm was filled with bloodlust the moment it had felt how pitiful their existence was. But no, it would follow orders, and secure the unborn. To be indoctrinated, and used, as Worm had been. It could not imagine a crueller fate, and, had it not unlearnt it a long time ago, would have smiled as the vibroblade slowly sank into the chest of the Yevetha staring straight at it.

As it fell to the ground, the blood started streaming out of the chest wound. There had been nothing in its orders about denying the young their sustenance.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [4/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

Stebbles slithered over after a solid slurp, getting a taste for Yevethan blood it seemed. Yurzhoc would have felt queasiness come over him for that interaction had it not been the deep plunge of his own fighting claw into the thoracic brain cage, the analogous rib cage of the beast before him, ending the life abruptly with a puncture of the brains hemisphere. A dew claw struck his armor, snapping between the hardiness and the force of the punch. The Yevethan recoiled back only momentarily from the pain, not attempting to show his misery, as Yurzhoc turned and tossed the now brain dead Yevethan straight into the figure. They collapsed into the floor in a bony pile of sinew and flesh.

Yurzhoc spit before licking the filed top row of teeth, Stebbles attaching as he spun towards the rest of the crowd. "Come on then, come and get it." The amphistaff loosened into whip form as he began spinning the weapon overhead, acid spraying out in a 360 degrees before he lunged forward. The Yevethan, blinded, could do nothing as the spear was stabbed deep through the abdomen, pinning him to the floor for the moment at an acute angle. As Yurzhoc walked around, he pulled the spear out and caressed Stebbles across the top of the head. "Atta girl..."

Charging out the front door, Yurzhoc barreled over three Yevethan's before feeling the pressure of a dew claw slip through the plates, piercing his left arm, just above the elbow. "Mmm, that's good..." The dew claw was freed from another Yevethan, quite a fragile thing he thought, as he turned and walked backwards into the main road of the town. Deep pools of black, rows of scarrification modifying his face, he gave a unique expression of joy as he pulled out the dew claw and slipped in into his belt. He had three now, three more and he'll have a full set.

"So..." He hunched down, spinning the amphistaff violently. "Who's next?"

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[10/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

She turned to their leader once more. It stood on shaky legs and came closer to Saiah with careful, but determined steps. She pointed her lightsabre down her side to allow it closer. They stood face to face and she could feel its rank breath. Her pale-grey eyes stared into its black ones. Despite being a relatively long person, she had to crane her neck up at the pale, genderless Yevetha.

“Last chance. Surrender or I will cut you into pieces.”

It laughed a sort of gurgling laugh before making a distinctly wet sound and spitting on the fabric of her robes. Saiah looked down at the stain, then up at the Yevetha, which snickered in her face as the crowd laughed. Enough was enough. It was time she put him down. With a quick reposition of her feet, she launched her forehead into the Yevetha’s nose. It pulled back and put a hand on its nose. On its other hand, the dew claws emerged menacingly and the pale one hissed at her. Saiah growled in return and flicked her sabre, making another line of scorched glassy substance in the sand.

They looked at each other for another few seconds before Saiah took the initiative and launched forward. She released a series of small cuts and thrusts aimed to hamper her opponents’ movement. However, this one had earned its spot as leader of a bandit camp. It weaved out of her attakcs and then back with a swipe of its claws. It nearly took Saiah’s eye out, but instead left a bloody gash on the side of her naked head. She chased her opponent away with a wide sweep of her blade. Yet it came back, rushing in with a barrage of stabs and cuts utilizing its’ claws. Saiah evaded, using her footwork and flexibility to keep the sharp claws away. When it came with a last thrust, she was not able to retreat, but taking the blow in her already damaged left shoulder, she cut its arm off right over the elbow. It jumped back as she tried to swipe off its legs as well. The dew claw was stuck in her shoulder with the arm still attached. Her own arm dangled uselessly at her side, only operable from the elbow down for now.

 

[Worm 20]

Objective: One
Location: A Yevetha breedery.
Allies: One Sith
[2/20]

Crouched down, observing the dark Yevetha blood spread out across the floor of the facility, Worm felt oddly relaxed. Denying the creatures the extra sustenance was enough to put its inner disgust at ease for a while, to calm the rage boiling inside, that was threatening to make it defy the orders. Looking at the breeding casks now, Worm could appreciate the workmanship of them. Made of a matte metal, they had a window, which allowed anyone to look inside. The interior was usually filled with a dark red broth, whose main component would have to be the blood. Different amounts of the broth would probably correspond to the wealth and status of the future child.

As the blood of the breeding assistant slowly threatened to touch Worm's grey boot, it rose, and stepped toward the nearest cask, watching it more closely. The edges of an opening at the front of the machine were covered in dried blood. Probably from when it was last filled. The sacrifice of Yevetha for the younglings was a ritualistic affair, they would not fill the tank with tubes. Worm stepped closer, and unscrewed the cap covering the hole. Inhaling the scent of Yevetha blood, it made an observation. The blood smelled different than its own. To be expected, probably.

As expected as the arrival of more guards would be, once the Yevetha leaders recovered from the shock of the unexpected Sith assault, and thought to protect their young.

Worm was already savouring the prospect of more victims. It had left the two guards at the front alive, to heighten the surprise the others would feel once they entered the room, and saw the dead breeding assistant lying in a pool of his own blood. Worm wondered whether they would be strong enough to see through the technique it had first used instinctively to protect itself. If not, the slaughter would be a slow feast for it. If they did, it would be more of a quick meal. Either way, it would be sated. And it was hungry for more.

Eyeing the dead assistant intensely, Worm leaned against the frame of the door to the main room, letting its senses wander, taking in any newcomers to the facility. If none arrived, the guards out front would have to do.

 

[Laguz Vald]

[8/20]
Objective: Mentally scar one Underlord and also perpare
Location: Black-15
Allies: [member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Dakita Calfur"]​

​

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So, eventually people get tired of waiting, even if they are shifters who can live up to the venerable age of half a millenium. Especially if they can live up to the venerable age of half a millenium. When you had so much time on your hands, you certainly didn't want to waste it by standing around looking all snobbish and posh on a station whose value was passing at best.

With a long-suffering sigh, Laguz turned on xir heel, averting xir gaze from the silent elevator as xe promptly walked away with that typical aristocratic gait. There was something to xir movements that made one think xe was squashing a lesser being under xir heel each time xe set down a foot, grinding with a bit too much gusto.

Oh, Laguz could pull off a very decent noble, that xe would; alas, standing around looking convincingly annoying and spoiled wouldn't earn xem any money, and so the sniper decided to take matters into xir own hands.

With something of a spring to xir step, the shifter breezed down the many weaving corridors of the station, intimidating xir way past the members of the lesser castes by the virtue of xir evil eye alone. Some of the guardians required a bit more… persuasion, but Laguz had always been highly resourceful, and the obstacles proved to be little more than bumps on xir road to wealth.