"The Wanderer"
5TH POST
-AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY-
CAIRN_ONE
RINGLEADER OF THE PELLAEONIST CLIQUE
WARDEN OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
DRUID-GRANDMASTER OF THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Tags (Friendlies): Siyndacha Aerin Aoki-Barran Mira Sahar Simon Meinrad
Tags (OPFOR): Khaostra Devoid Marlon Sularen Erion Justeene
BORN OF BRIGHT STARS VII: DANCING WITH THE DAMNED - PART 5
WESTERN COURTYARD, INTERNMENT ZONE,
THE SITH CITADEL, EXEGOL (SUMMER 878 ABY)
It was in the moment he found the necromancers, bearing malformed flame in the dark corners of the citadel, poised to strike out again from the source of their power when Barran found the presence of one he recognised. One of his very first rivals since his early forays into the Imperial war effort, with a hatred between them spanning back as early as the Invasion of Lao-Mon, a very particular hatred reserved purely between the Barrans and the Howling Crags, and Michael's very own arch-rival was personally making an appearance on this occasion.
'Hahahahahahahaha! Interesting.'
And that arch-rival was none other than Khaostra Devoid, descendant of the infamous Blade Ice, who in turn was the Lord-Regent's last-surviving rival, adding to the tension between the Goidels and the Dathomiri in what was likely to boil into something altogether more destructive than any other feud of it's sort. After all, matters of feuding clans would always differ when ruling clans from entirely differing peoples crossed swords against each other, ringing ever so true in the case of the quiet war between the Goidelic Humans and the Dathomiri specifically, and for as long as Michael and Khaostra desired to eradicate each other's bloodlines completely, the chance of their simmering war becoming a run of cold proxies remained as slim as ever.
The gift of the Imprint is yours, laddie.
Your safety net wanders not, so forget not that the wandering is only for thee.
Fair point, Sinnsear.
'MAWITES INCOMING - OPEN FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!!!!!'
In any case.... Just you sit back an' enjoy the show for now, auld-yin.
The swordsman's magic permeated down to my generation, rest assured.
-AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY-
CAIRN_ONE
RINGLEADER OF THE PELLAEONIST CLIQUE
WARDEN OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
DRUID-GRANDMASTER OF THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Tags (Friendlies): Siyndacha Aerin Aoki-Barran Mira Sahar Simon Meinrad
Tags (OPFOR): Khaostra Devoid Marlon Sularen Erion Justeene
BORN OF BRIGHT STARS VII: DANCING WITH THE DAMNED - PART 5
THE SITH CITADEL, EXEGOL (SUMMER 878 ABY)
<"Barran to Cairn Two - anything yet?!">
<"McBain to Cairn One - nout.... Bolstering positional advantage for now though.">
<Nice, always better to dominate wherever possible. Stay alert o'er there. Barran out!">
With fingertips taped with purpose, already a little red from inflammation by way of early use of the Click-Wave, Barran was ready for the next phase of the fight, despite the fact he was sitting back with his boots kicked up and resting on an old canteen. Everyone was in position to spring a ranged ambush, widely-dispersed amongst the rubble and the outer walls of the prison complex, so the Wanderer was quite content to conserve his strength for as long as time would allow, using his spare time to use his senses to detection effect instead. Searching the citadel and the areas around it, searching for friend and foe alike, though in taking this process a little more seriously, familiar souls began to burn out in Lord Michael's periphery.<"McBain to Cairn One - nout.... Bolstering positional advantage for now though.">
<Nice, always better to dominate wherever possible. Stay alert o'er there. Barran out!">
It was in the moment he found the necromancers, bearing malformed flame in the dark corners of the citadel, poised to strike out again from the source of their power when Barran found the presence of one he recognised. One of his very first rivals since his early forays into the Imperial war effort, with a hatred between them spanning back as early as the Invasion of Lao-Mon, a very particular hatred reserved purely between the Barrans and the Howling Crags, and Michael's very own arch-rival was personally making an appearance on this occasion.
'Hahahahahahahaha! Interesting.'
Shame I forget the mask an' the Woad-paint this time though.
Form-2 an' Force-Techniques aw the way then. I'm sure the Sorcerers don't mind.
Good, I want to see how my descendent fights with sword in hand. Show me.
Form-2 an' Force-Techniques aw the way then. I'm sure the Sorcerers don't mind.
Good, I want to see how my descendent fights with sword in hand. Show me.
And that arch-rival was none other than Khaostra Devoid, descendant of the infamous Blade Ice, who in turn was the Lord-Regent's last-surviving rival, adding to the tension between the Goidels and the Dathomiri in what was likely to boil into something altogether more destructive than any other feud of it's sort. After all, matters of feuding clans would always differ when ruling clans from entirely differing peoples crossed swords against each other, ringing ever so true in the case of the quiet war between the Goidelic Humans and the Dathomiri specifically, and for as long as Michael and Khaostra desired to eradicate each other's bloodlines completely, the chance of their simmering war becoming a run of cold proxies remained as slim as ever.
The gift of the Imprint is yours, laddie.
Your safety net wanders not, so forget not that the wandering is only for thee.
Fair point, Sinnsear.
Heralding in the great pitched battle within the Citadel's outer boundaries, the Highlanders let loose with everything they had, unleashing blaster and disruptor trails, slugs and shoulder-mounted rockets into the advancing horde of Mawites, forcing the enemy contingent onto the back foot from the moment the very first ambushing shot was fired. A fanfare like no other, like a warlike symphonic composition that dares to add cannons into the performance, a shocking beauty that somehow drew mirth in it's effective application, though such was often the way for those who worked to make fools of their enemies at every workable opportunity. This fact in particular was taken seriously as Lord Michael called on the curved Makashi, hoping not to let hubris lead him astray as it had on Neshtab, though the acknowledgement of the fun he wished to have didn't help him much in his resistance to such temptations, as bloodlust certainly bore it's own litany of drain-circling risks on planets like Exegol.In any case.... Just you sit back an' enjoy the show for now, auld-yin.
The swordsman's magic permeated down to my generation, rest assured.