Skirmish Fire and Blood [SAO/RNR]

[Briana Sal-Soren]

She was about to answer Lorn when the familiar baritone of her brother's voice echoed in her ears. Her chin whipped to look at him, lips immediately pressing into a hard line, her sapphire eyes boring into him. If looks could cut, hers would have surely killed. Apparently, her family found it the more popular option to ignore what she had to say these days, despite whatever insistences and reassurances she gave them.

There were more than enough Jedi to handle the situation on Enarc, without having to needlessly risk himself — she'd pressed.

But, Briana knew what this really was. Why he was here. Even if she lacked Lossa's ability for empathy in the Force, Briana knew a shield when she saw one — knew his concern and wariness for her state of mind.

He knew they didn't need back up.

Simply put, he didn't trust her.

Briana half expected to be either offended by this, or oddly comforted by the idea that he wanted to look out for her for a change. But, as the thought settled, nothing came. Perhaps, since Astor's death, she'd simply been pushed to some place beyond those emotions?

The thoughts were pushed from her mind. "Choose to not get yourself killed then," she quipped, lightly shaking her head but saying nothing else on the matter as the current three of them moved in the direction that Lorn initially indicated.

Feelings could be expressed, or explored, later, when they were out of danger. The longer they went without finding the Seed, the more prone they'd be of getting blanketed by the pull of the dark side and falling into the same mindless bloodlust that'd over taken the rest of the populace.

Pushing deeper into the ruined city, the destruction around them seemed to worsen and escalate with every step, the invading host loosing pods from the sky... the mist of smoke growing thicker still, making her blue eyes redden with tears as they dodged and weaved around debris, around shouting, panic-struck civilians. The threads of the Force pulling them ever along its current, leading them... until the light began warping, reacting, fleeing.

"Up ahead," she breathed, grinding her teeth as her gaze narrowed and every muscle in her body coiled and tensed. They hadn't found the seed, but what they'd found in its stead was no less an abomination that needed handling.

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren , Lorn Reingard , Imperius Indomitus | EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber, Echo Stone, Astor's Blade

​

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

• Objective: I. Rage, Rage
• Tags:
  • Allied: Darth Callidus | Darth Moskvin | Crane Baxa | Ellissanthia [all indirect]
  • Adversary: Briana Sal-Soren | Lorn Reingard | Brandyn Sal-Soren [Direct]
• Theme: Attack

There was no quiet place in this city. No calm, no serenity. Its streets, once orderly and populated, were empty, the only remnants being the carcasses of burnt out speeders, rubble and glass, mutilated corpses and the activities of war. Peace had disappeared. Peace had never been there. Only a thick veil, concealed and oppressing thoughts, emotions and feelings. An illusion conjured by the feeble and petty to enact a sense of control, to rule over the sheep that dared not to oppose the dictatorship of manners, etiquette and social standards, of civility. Nature knew no such terms for they were coined by none other than those who lacked the strength to contend among the predators, among the mighty. The fire that will light the reign of the strong has come to Enarc and it laid bare the truth that peace was a lie.

Darth Imperius marched down the streets, his black eyes burning with righteous excitement. His lightsaber had tasted the blood of the Naboo already, foolish soldiers who came to the rescue of the people. Rescue. They were liberated, freed from the oppression of their own laws and limitations. He had given their emotions a purpose for the first time ever in their lives and all these narrow-minded fools could think about was feeding their own self-righteousness. Their bodies lay twisted and cut down, barely a nuisance to his path. The civilians on the other hand, unshackled, were roaming, were fighting, feasting on their undone chains. They dared not to cross paths with the imposing figure, the aura of dread even too strong for them to overcome. But he fed on them. It were their basic instincts, primordial drives that fueled him.

A small chapel was ahead, apparently a safe haven and evacuation point that barely clung to its life under the assault of his forces and their own civilians. He knew that nearby enemy reinforcements had appeared, his auto senses and connection to the battle network always feeding information into his mind. The arrival of more forces send a sense of foreshadowing, a taste of a fight to come. A real fight, not the mindless butchery of desperate soldiers and security personnel. The Force obliged, as it always did, and provides conflict. He would not want it any other way.

The chapel appeared in front, his appearance, a black armored titan walking down the street with no care for any of the carnage that was around, not only spooked the defenders but routed them instantly, running to their own evacuations and rally points, hopefully and predictably, telling their grand protectors, that he was here.

His lightsaber deactivated as his large gauntlet pushed open the door of the old building, squeaking metal pins protesting. He entered, his gaze wandering around the place with its rows of benches pushed to the side, make space in the middle where now lay abandoned belongings. Next to the entrance was military equipment, a communicator and some weapons. His heavy steps clanked on the floor, almost cracking the floor tiles under his weight. It was a dark place, shadowy, even though large windows usually offered sunlight tainted by their many colors. Their images were quite of splendid work, showing scenes of peace, tranquility and sacrifice. As he walked on, he saw that in an alcove, there were blankets covering corpses, dead soldiers and civilians no doubt.

A grim expression ran across his face.

Upon arrival, one would see that this place of the Light side had been deconsecrated and corrupted. Impaled on splinters of wood and metal, the dead were now watching the entrance and the inside. Crucified they pointed the way inside where in front of the altar, stood the figure of the Dark Lord. His lightsaber clipped to his belt, but his greatsword, resting next to him, the point on the floor. On the altar itself lay another corpse, eviscerated in ritualistic fashion, the blood still dripping from the gauntlet of the Sith. Through it he had sent an invitation, words of dread that echoed through the city without voice, into the minds of the defenders.

"I have broken your splendid city. Now come and face death."

Equipment
| Lightsaber | Greatsword | Armor | Amulet | Shuttle |
Order of Battle
| Knights Tenebrus | Sith Eradicators |​

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Cathedral - Enarc
Objective: Protect the Seed of Rage Node
Tag: Connel Vanagor

The Seed lashed out towards the Jedi while Ellissanthia looked on. Such an intense display of raw Sith magic pushed the limits of what an impure Dark Jedi such as her could be allowed to witness. And yet, the Undine could not tear her gaze away from it. She was compelled to lose herself in the Dark Side, to make herself one and the same with it.

“It is a shame that you are unable to appreciate the beauty of the darkness.” Ellissanthia spoke in soft, yet disappointed tone. “I had hoped that you might at least entertain it, but alas the dogma of the Jedi...” the Undine hissed, as she extended her left arm towards the Jedi’s chest, locking her index and middle fingers together as she did.

Then, without warning, a sharp, reverberating crack rang out as the air was compressed into a narrow, transparent beam and launched towards the Jedi at blistering velocity. In effect, it was a burst of hypersonic overpressure manifested by a Force Push, albeit one that took the shape of a lance rather than an expansive, blanketing wave. Though said telekinetic exertion, the Undine manifested a beam of pressurized air which carried enough energy to shatter durasteel or rend a man in twain.

And it was headed directly towards Connel, an invisible lance intended to spear the Jedi through his chest from just over 25 meters away!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Eclipsed Veil
  
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • Red Accents
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Shoulder
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Standard Lightsaber
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• SHIVA Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Shadows in the Light
Enarc
Cathedral

“It is a shame that you are unable to appreciate the beauty of the darkness.”

Upon hearing this, Connel looked down at his own black clad cloak and armor and then back up at her in mock confusion.Connel smirked, Perhaps I find beauty in different places. The light can be just as blinding as the dark. He adjusted his cloak, the glint in his eyes reflecting a deeper understanding of the shadows before ripping it off.

“I had hoped that you might at least entertain it, but alas the dogma of the Jedi...”

... and the blind fanaticism of those who have no inner strength.

Then as she extended her arm and hand, he was not sure what she was trying to do, but something in him, the Force itself was yelling to him “Push! Push! PUSH!” At the last moment, he committed to a Force Push himself and the ensuing “blast” (for lack of a better word) rebounded back on him and sent the Shadow barreling over a pewHe landed with a thud, the impact jarring his bones. Despite the pain, Connel quickly regained his footing, his eyes never leaving hers. He could feel the Force swirling around them, a palpable tension in the air. That was actually kind of fun. Perhaps, he said, his voice low and steady, it's time to see things from a different perspective.

Get close enough.

@ Ellissanthia• TAGS​

 

[Kahne Porte]

Enarc
Tags: Michael Angellus Kalantha Trent Perris Hellmarch Stevru Klamat Ma'lur'kek'thwin

Yes Master. Sorry, still getting used to that. I just … this is scary. I don’t want to say it, but I have to.

"I know exactly what you mean. There is nothing wrong with admitting that." The Jedi Master said with a small smile, before his very first skirmish he too was scared. Who wouldn't be? This was a fight, war. And sometimes you don't always win. Kahne had been in many wars and battles in his lifetime. And there were several that ended in defeat. It was the will of the force. The key was to never stop fighting, as tiresome as it may get. There are people out there that need you.

I’m honored to be by your side, Master… if I could get to my X-wing… I could shoot those pods down…

"The honor is all mine, Michael." The Jedi Master glanced down the range before looking back to Michael with a small smile on his face. "Let's get you set up then. I will watch your six."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Briana Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Imperius Indomitus

​

Lorn snapped his head around, the sudden, almost casual appearance of Brandyn catching him completely off guard. He hadn't seen the man in what felt like an age. A quick glance at Briana confirmed his suspicion, she looked just as annoyed as he was surprised. These Sal-Soren siblings… they certainly had a unique dynamic.

More help was always welcome in situations like this, regardless of how capable he and Briana were. Besides, seeing Brandyn was a genuine, if unexpected, pleasure. He subtly scanned the area around Brandyn, trying to catch even a whisper of Cerys' Force signature. He hadn't seen her in far too long. He thought he felt her nearby, however his gaze was broken by Briana calling out the disturbing scene ahead.

A tight coil of dread began to wind in Lorn's stomach as the message blared through the Force, thick with malice and terror. His grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of his lightsaber. The chapel loomed in the distance, and the image of what awaited him there slammed into his mind like a physical blow. Without another word, Lorn broke into a jog, then a full sprint towards the chapel. He trusted the Sal-Sorens would follow, they were good, and they were fast.

Pushing through the shattered door, Lorn's breath hitched. The sight that confronted him was a grotesque parody of faith. The chapel, once a sanctuary, was now a house of horrors. Bodies were impaled on splintered wood ripped from the pews, hung like macabre ornaments. Their glazed eyes stared blankly towards the altar, where more bodies were crucified, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, mocking the serenity of the stained-glass windows.

And then there was the altar itself. A corpse lay splayed across it, brutally eviscerated, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. Crimson dripped from a gauntlet resting on the victim's chest, the dark stain a grotesque signature. Beside the altar stood him, this dark behemoth. A titan in black armor, radiating an aura of pure malice.

Lorn's hand instinctively went to his lightsaber. The weapon ignited with a snap-hiss, bathing the scene in the warm glow of its golden blade. Fury surged through him, a boiling wave that threatened to overwhelm his control. He wanted to launch himself at this… thing, to tear it apart. But he knew that would be foolish. The air crackled with the Dark Lord's power. They needed to work together, to coordinate.

He locked eyes with the monster, his own fury reflected in its dark, burning gaze. "You desecrate what is sacred." Lorn spat, his voice low and trembling with rage. "This ends here."

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

He went for it?

HE WENT FOR IT! Son of a… GUN! See, no “Bleep” here!

Really?! Okay! Race you there!

I can’t believe I just said that! I’m just so friggin’ excited! I get to fly! It was a fast run to the launch bay, and no, I don’t have an N-1 like everyone else, but I have what Dad taught me in. That’ll do nicely!

Hey “Bred”! Get us going! I’ll pull all the pins! No time for a real “pre-flight” but considering I do one every morning, it should be okay! Just a quick run around the ship, pulling the weapon pins, releasing the chocks, and unhooking the fuel lines, all I have to do is climb in and close the canopy. Even my helmet is here! “Bred” is the best. With a final tug on the last pin, I scramble into the cockpit, my heart pounding with anticipation. The familiar hum of the engines reassures me as I secure my helmet. "Bred" gives me a thumbs-up from the droid slot, and with a deep breath, I engage the throttle. The ship vibrates beneath me, ready to soar.

[Dork 1 to Tower!] Hey, I don’t have one of those cool registries yet… wait… “Dork 1”??? [Request clearance for launch.] Alright, here we go. Alright “Bred”, this is real. We’re going into a fight. I can prep my droid, but am I ready for this?

Kalantha | Kahne Porte | Stevru Klamat | Ma'lur'kek'thwin | Hellmarch | The Lord of Hunger​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Well, Briana's reaction had been on the milder end of what he had expected. But her reaction was also the least of his worries. He offered Lorn a conciliatory half-smile, before setting off in a job to match the other Knight's pace. He purposely set himself behind Lorn and to Briana's left. His role here was support, not lead.

The sight that greeted them was something that caused Brandyn to pause. The faces stared blankly up into the sky, but somehow straight into his soul. Death. This was the reality into which his child was coming. A cold shiver ran down his spine, as he glanced warily at Briana, and then pushed into the chapel behind Lorn.

He had seen a lot in his time. Working undercover he had seen what he thought to be the worst that sentient beings had to offer. Dealing with the likes of Wallgof and Velda, he thought he had known evil. But this. This was something entirely different.

His saber hilt was already in his hand. How it got there? He did not remember. His face reflected the emerald green of the shimmering weapon. He stepped to Lorn's right and took his favoured ready stance.

"No quarter shall be given you," Brandyn said calmly, "your crimes are laid bare for all to see. Your abomination ends today."

The beast before them could not be permitted to do this again. Would not. However, this was not Brandyn's forte. He was best with infiltration, spying and espionage. His mind tricks would not work here.

"There has to be back door, right?" He whispered to Lorn, "keep his attention on you and Briana."

With that Brandyn disappeared back out the door through which they had entered, and his presence in the Force dissipated as if carried on the wind.

| TAG: Lorn Reingard Briana Sal-Soren Imperius Indomitus |

​

 

[Echo Athoth]

Enarc
Tags: Lily Decoria , Darth Callidus

Echo Athoth's Locket, Epo-1 Interceptor, BB-055TN "Boston"
​

One saber slashed upward, not for the throat, not for the chest—but the wrist. A quick, vicious cut meant to punish Echo's attempt at a disarm, forcing her to retreat or lose the hand that held her weapon.

Echo was quick to notice the movement, her own matching to meet it. As the blade of her opponent, swing for her hand to sever it, Echo flipped the way her lightsaber was being held. It seamlessly transitioned to a reverse grip, meeting the Sith's blow and driving it back. The Ogemite, ever the mind for dueling, was not one to let herself be pigeon-holed into having no options. Every action was the same as movements on a chessboard, one after another until the perfect move was made to end the battle.

One way or another.

Lily seemed to be holding her own. Echo was doing her best to keep from getting into the padawan's space, recognizing the prowess of her combat partner. With that in mind, the Knight was quick to prepare her next action. Her blade with be swung in a diagonal slash meant to capitalize on the ebb and flow between their blades, the next natural progression. Echo's free hand, however, called the rebar back, which she swung at the head of the Sith.

Now she had two blades. Not perfect, but additional factors in the duel.

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Cathedral - Enarc
Objective: Protect the Seed of Rage Node
Tag: Connel Vanagor

A wicked grin tugged at Ellissanthia’s features when her blast sent Connel barreling over a pew before crashing to the ground with a hard thud. Although it was disappointing to see him emerge intact, the Undine quickly registered that the Jedi was no normal combatant or a pushover, for that matter. This was one who could push her to the limit, and perhaps, beyond.

She had no intention of letting it come to that.

Crack! Crack!

Giving a loud, high-pitched shriek of exertion, Ellissanthia unleashed a pair of lancing discharges from her fingers one after the other as Connel regained his footing. They manifested in the same manner as her initial attack from moments before—invisible lances of hypersonic overpressure delivered from 25 meters away that were capable of pulverizing flesh and durasteel alike. The first of the pair was directed towards the pew closest to the Jedi, intended to shatter the structure so that the ensuing shrapnel might shower him. The second came only a blink after the first, aimed for the ground immediately at her target’s feet so as to generate yet more shrapnel (in the form of hard granite) while potentially disturbing his footing in the process!

Then, Ellissanthia shifted into motion. With a sharp exhalation, the Undine jumped, her form whipping around in an acrobatic backflip before she landed gracefully on the main stage.

And in doing so, Ellissanthia positioned herself directly in front of the Seed node.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Eclipsed Veil
  
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • Red Accents
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Shoulder
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Standard Lightsaber
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• SHIVA Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: ENARC
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | The Enforcer
TAG: Hellmarch | Kalantha | Trent Perris | Michael Angellus | Kahne Porte | Stevru Klamat | Ma'lur'kek'thwin


A good commander can work with a disadvantage, a great commander can turn a disadvantage into an advantage

The Droid legions were facing some stiff resistance, the reinforcements that had been dropped at the Academy had clearly managed to inspire and consolidate the defender's forces and spruced up their moral. In fact, from within one of the ruined buildings nearby, where the Lord of Hunger had decided to form a makeshift command post, he could see the damage the legion had been taking in its attempt to march onto the Academy. While it did look like the Urban Enforcement Cohort was managing to keep the flanks secure, the fact the Legion itself was being funneled through the main street leading to the Academy and lead into the open square in front of the academy had made the situation somewhat untenable, especially with the strengthened defensive lines.

"We are gaining terrain, but we aren't taking any advantage out of the opposition's tactical retreat...with each meter we take, we lose twice as many droids as they lose men," Credius looked at the holographic display, a topographic, detailed map of the vicinity being rended in 3D showing the advance of the droids and the location of all of his forces on the ground. "Having sent the Cohort to deal with the flanks and any potential counterattack is costing the legion dearly."
​

//:INITIATE BATTLE PLAN B16-3
//:JUPITER SHIELD WALL INSUFFICIENT
//:ESTIMATED DISCONNECTIONS 1382
//:REQUESTION ENSLAVEMENT PROGRAM PERMISSION

Listening to the KRONOS AI listing the numbers and giving a new option to change this seemingly uncomfortable stalemate, Credius let out a sigh, as his hand went down towards the map, his fist clenching around the academy's image, as if he were to grab it. He knew it would be better to allow KRONOS to indeed take direct control over the Droid Legion, it would have a much better chance of shortening the droids' reaction times and add some adaptability to their formations as they pressed on. "Permission granted, start enslavement program protocol RE-82."

It did not take long before the changes in the Legion's operations became clear, as the Ceres type droids began to entrench themselves by dragging pieces of rubble and debris onto the street, forming an effective barricade, while the Pluto Walkers continued their covering fire upon the defenders' lines. Still, while this was happening, a clear tally could be made that at least a tenth of the legion's Ceres type droids had either been completely destroyed or damaged severely before and during this quick change of pace, with easily a tenth of the Mercury type droids also having met the same fate, which in general ment that at least ten percent of the legion had already been incapacitated either partially or fully.

However, as the progress was made to set up a barricade, about forty of the Mercury Type droids were sent out to scour the surrounding buildings for stragglers from the defenders and to set up better overviewing positions from where they could rattle the Academy's defenses. Still, as long as Hellmarch hadn't managed to press on his own offensive and the Urban Enforcement Cohort still had to secure the flanks, that very cohort could not be called back in order to push for a greater advantage or even a break through.

"Continue pressuring the defenses with the Pluto Walkers, concentrate fire on the access points to the Academy," Rubbing the chin of his mask for a moment, the Lord of Hunger observed the map in front of him, noticing that the defenders had indeed taken quite a good position, even if this place was to be the best way to topple the entire planet's resistance, it was certainly not an easy task and those who were rallying the defenders were certainly no slouches either. "Let's see what the Lord Militant will do, if we can't use the Cohort, have the designated mercury droids and the Pluto walkers creating cover fire for the legion to push forward. Try to identify those in command... If we can pinpoint their commanders, we can take care of them."
​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Enarc
Allies: Thayze Montserrat
Enemies: Darth Moskvin Crane Baxa

"Parlor tricks will not save your soul, boy,"

The grotesque nature didn't dissuade the Jedi Padawan. He could sense the cloud of darkness, but his inner light was brighter. He would not let the lashes of the darkside grab hold of him. He began his advance and that was until another individual made himself known that caused the Jedi Padawan to halt. Not out of fear, but to assess the situation just as a array of fire came their way. The power of the disruptor repeaters was misjudged by Aiden as he brought his hand up to create a force barrier around him, the repeated fire broke through it easily. The impact and backlash from the barrier breaking blasted Aiden back a few paces. The Padawan regained his momentum rising to a knee from the ground.

"Break off and engage!" Aiden shouted to those around him as debris from the buildings around were falling from the barrage of fire. The Jedi Padawan moved forward quickly by aid of the force, travelling towards Moskvin. Building up what energy he could and sent a force push towards the nightmarish creature.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Shadows in the Light
Enarc
Cathedral

Fool me once…

She was fast. Incredibly, dangerously, devastatingly fast. The thing is, she made the mistake of going back to that well. Her attacks hit their marks. The pew was destroyed, and that made Connel angry, this Cathedral was not one of his faith (yes, he is religious, but that is a conversation for another day) but the sacrilegious intent was shameful. The second one, was where his own move would come into play. It was time to alter the environment. The trick would not have to last long at all, but just long enough for her to see her attack to the floor opening up a hole that he disappeared into.

He didn’t.

Sheathing his sabers as he jumped, Connel himself leaped into the air with a twist. Pulling two Throwing Lightknives as well as his Lightblaster, Connel opened fire on her, fully expecting a defense, as he threw the knives at the node and the platform (or whatever it was) holding it up. Landing on one of the trusses, he did not give her the chance to destroy that too, Connel leapt again, but back to where he was, in the aisleway.

He wasn’t just standing there, but still moving.

@ Ellissanthia• TAGS​

 

[Ma'lur'kek'thwin]

LOCATION⠀|	Royal Naboo Republic Military Base, Enarc
OBJECTIVE⠀|	Hold the line, Disrupt Droid Advance

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She followed in the wake of the Mandalorian's command, an opalescent shadow woven through milling soldiers keen to muster to his words. Ma'lur couldn't help but admire the surety in his presence and how it shifted morale- after all, it worked on her too. As strong as she could be alone, sent into the droid frontlines to disrupt and dismember, her strengths could be plied just as efficiently when the Mandalorian aimed her like any of the other weapons in the shapes of men. Ma'lur observed a heavy assortment of ordnance being collected, and when the soldier came to offload the weighty quiver of rockets onto Prodo, she intercepted the parcel and shouldered into it herself. "I got this, you stay light."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀In and out of their defensive lines, tailed at a distance by the retinue tasked with carrying the remaining explosives, Ma'lur and the Mandalorian slipped through the city streets into one of the empty skyscrapers that seemed most likely to provide a good vantage point over the advancing droids. Admittedly, this wasn't exactly the kind of participation that employed her more offensive capabilities best, but perhaps she had better uses being a beast of burden- the human-shaped species' were, after all, rather weak when it came to physical strength. She would bear this role with good humor, if not for the tantalizing prospect of victory, then for the hopes that she'd get to have the second best seat on the battlefront when it came to watching the buckets of bolts below blow up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Up. Up. Up. Ma'lur split off from her companion for the duration of their ascent, the Ssi-ruu taking the stairwell while Prodo got a headstart through one of the elevator shafts. She took steps five at a time, dropping onto all fours for the majority of the way, arriving on his heels a short time later. Had he gotten a lay of the land, gotten a shot or two off? Scenting tongues flickered, curious, but the answers that came didn't matter. She kept her powerful, angular frame hunkered low, aiming to keep her profile beneath the rooftop lip and out of sight of any enemies that had a mind to look up. Her eyes were not the sort meant for long range combat, but she could stare a good hole into the roof access door and keep Prodo safe from an ambush that way, if nothing else. After the few skirmishes they'd gotten into together, it was her turn to back him up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Holler when you need a reload."

Stevru Klamat , Hellmarch , The Lord of Hunger , Kalantha

|⠀TAGS

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Echo Athoth Lily Decoria

The Jedi were proving... interesting.

Callidus had expected resistance, had anticipated skill. But this? This was something else entirely. A flicker of amusement curled at the edges of her lips as she twisted mid-motion, the deadly arc of her saber thwarted by Echo's seamless transition to a reverse grip. Not bad. But predictable.

The rebar hurtling toward her skull was less predictable.

The air hummed with kinetic energy as Echo's free hand guided the makeshift weapon toward her.

"Adaptable."

The word was spoken in a ghostly whisper in her mind, one of the many voices that danced at the edges of her perception.

Callidus reacted, not with the elegant finesse of a duelist, but with the brutal efficiency of a killer. She dropped low in an instant, the rebar whistling through the space where her head had been, missing by a hair's breadth. The movement brought her inside Echo's reach, her red saber flashing upward in a vicious, almost casual flick—aimed not for the Knight's weapon, but her exposed ribs. A strike designed not to maim, not to kill.

To wound.

Pain was a distraction. Pain was a weapon. Pain was an instructor, the voices crooned.

Lily pressed in hard from the other side, a shifting force of controlled aggression. Callidus felt the shift in her. The Soresu shell was gone—replaced by something sharper, faster. Vaapad.

Delicious.

The Padawan came at her with speed, grace, and a purpose that was undeniable. Callidus let herself be pushed, retreating step by step, her twin sabers flickering like twin streaks of red lightning. Not defensive—testing. Her expression remained unreadable, save for the faintest curve of her lips, the flicker of madness in her gaze. The Jedi thought to apply pressure, to exploit the Force to overwhelm her.

They did not realize.

She thrived in the storm.

Lily's precision strikes targeted her arms, searching for weakness, a means to slow her down. Callidus turned her defenses into something erratic—flowing, rather than blocking outright. Let the Jedi think she was on the backfoot. A saber spun in a short, sharp counter, catching one of Lily's aggressive strikes and diverting it just enough that their hilts nearly locked. A breath between them, eyes meeting.

Then she moved.

The shift in tempo was instant, devastating. From flowing, adaptive defense to relentless onslaught. Callidus met the pressure of two Jedi head-on, and doubled it. Her first strike lashed out for Lily's dominant wrist, sharp and sudden. The second saber arced toward Echo's shoulder, a movement designed to force her to defend rather than press an attack. And then—

She twisted her body into a fluid spin, sweeping one leg around in a brutal, sweeping kick aimed at Lily's abdomen, aiming to send her flying. Not just distance—disrupt balance, break rhythm.

She did not fight like a Sith.

She fought like something else entirely.

Red lightning flickered at her fingertips, itching to be unleashed. The whispers were rising, urging her to make them bleed.

Not yet.

This was too much fun.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Death was everywhere, but no where was it as concentrated as the Temple they entered.

Carefully, Briana edged around the mess, moving with the grace of the Solleu River as she worked her way around the tangled sprawl of corpses, flies already crusting their bloody flanks.

She'd seen death so many times over the years that one might think she'd have grown indifferent to it by now, to the macabre scene splayed out in front of her; instead, Briana felt her stomach lurch, heart twisting uncomfortably against her ribs with sorrow at the wanton violence that'd taken place here.

Immediately, she bundled up those feelings and slammed them tightly behind a closed door in her mind, tucking away the horror into one of those neat little boxes for her to unpack later, as she'd done so many times before. Telling herself the same lie she always did: she'd deal with it when there was time. They had to remain focused on the living, on their greater goal.

As Brandyn and Lorn initially addressed the Sith Lord's pomp, Briana closed her eyes for half a heartbeat, drawing what tendrils of light that she could from out of the stinking darkness, pulling them inward. Mentally, Briana envisioned a linked bridge, extending first towards Lorn, before searching out for her brother's presence next.

Though he was physically apart from them now, it was easy to find him through the bond of their Dyad, the power of it thrumming at her insistence, strengthening the meld further and transforming it from a mere spark waiting for fuel, into a blazing roar. With the threads firmly established, Briana pushed all of her concentration into steadying the fire, stabilizing it.

In doing so, they became aware of her, and she of them — sharing what she'd already picked up on in their environment: crumbled pillars and shattered pews could form makeshift cover; possible ways to pen in the Sith. Useful information for Brandyn? He would have to decide.

In return, she gleaned their thoughts, their positions, their readiness, and the roiling determination inside them both. "Let's make this quick, hm?" Briana mumbled to Lorn, raising her cerulean blade up as her eyes locked on to Imperius.

They would strike together from the front.

In a blur of movement, Briana flew forward, the Force propelling her toward the towering, black-armored form that dwarfed her by more than a head... Not size had never daunted her before.

With a mighty leap, Briana raised her blade as if to strike — instead twisting at the last second. Her free hand thrust forward, a sudden, focused burst unleashing a powerful telekinetic wave aimed straight at his center of mass in the hopes of staggering the towering Sith Lord.

Size alone would grant her foe formidable stability, she knew, but she was counting on the element of surprise to momentarily unbalance him, pouring her determination into the wave and drawing on the strength of the Force to amplify its impact.

If it worked, Lorn would have a clear opening to drive in and strike.

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren , Lorn Reingard , Imperius Indomitus | EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber, Echo Stone, Astor's Blade

​

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

• Objective: I. Rage, Rage
• Tags:
  • Allied: Darth Callidus | Darth Moskvin | Crane Baxa | Ellissanthia [all indirect]
  • Adversary: Briana Sal-Soren | Lorn Reingard | Brandyn Sal-Soren [Direct]
• Theme: Attack

There were three of them. They entered together and their eyes wandered around as they took in the work the Dark Lord had done, their reactions as vivid as he had hoped for. The first was bursting with fury, his passions running as wild and hot as anyone could hope for, a true warrior who lost his path to hypocrisy and ignorance. A shame, he would make a powerful Sith if he were to accept that his emotions are true and right. The second was cold judgement, maybe even disgust, certainly the least of them judging by his foolish idea of speaking lowly just to disappear. Maybe Imperius had overestimated the Shiraya? Was that their name? Should he believe the man disappeared because he ran? It would have been an insult if pride was a factor. The last one, a woman now, was different. She felt similarly to the first but did not express it, he felt her emotions disappearing. An imagined and ignorant sign of control it was, done by someone who did not know better how to handle it.

The Seed of Rage was doing its part. It would help all of them to feel what they needed to feel, to experience that life is not simply dulled by mere words of dogma. It was fueling him, the entire city in peril, the bloodshed, the chaos, the fighting, was fueling him. Their passions, were fueling him. It was as if the ancient Zakuulan was conduit for the horror that shook Enarc, that drove spite into the hearts of the ones he faced and respite into the ones that came here with him. He was radiating the Dark side, a vibrant feeling of dread and wrath that surrounded him, colder than the stone of chapel and yet would burn if touched.

It was the last one to arrive who made the first step, signaling clearly who was in charge and probably even most experienced.

Darth Imperius watched her movement, he felt her tensing up and launching herself forward. So it began. Every fiber of his body responded, every piece of his neurally connected armor acted in perfect union with his thoughts. And in an instant, he had moved. His mighty sword, Anathema, turned in his grasp, the black-bladed weapon being a flurry itself, an aftertaste on the retina, just likes its wielder. He was fast, incredibly so, even for a Force user and acting almost contradictory to what his armor seemed to allow.

His jolt forward intended to meet Briana Sal-Soren in her leap and attack, not to harm her in fact, but to stagger her landing and redirect her Force attack. The hilt his weapon pushing her arm to the side, leveraging a sort of half-swording grip to redirect her telekinetic push that would crush a corner of the altar.

But it was the mere opening, he sensing the combined attack, already moving to react to Lorn's onslaught . . . .

Equipment
| Lightsaber | Greatsword | Armor | Amulet | Shuttle |
Order of Battle
| Knights Tenebrus | Sith Eradicators |​

 

[Thayze Montserrat]

|| FIRE AND BLOOD ||
Head in the Clouds - Chapter 1

OUTFIT: Bespoke Jedi Armor
OBJECTIVE: Seek and Destroy
ALLY: Aiden Porte
ENEMIES: Crane Baxa | Darth Moskvin

Spoiler: THEME

​

ENARC

Thayze’s advance was interrupted by a light walker rushing out of nowhere. He can see in a quick glance that the walker is manned by a Chandra-Fan with a crazy eye. Another victim of the Seed of Rage, Thayze thought to himself.

Before Thayze could even react, the turrets of the walker started moving, pointing it’s head roughly at the two Jedi. Without delay, barrages of hailfire are shot towards the two, missing it’s aim more often than not, but still hitting the building behind them, causing shrapnels to fly all over its surroundings and dust to come out of its debris.

While Aiden decided to brace the barrage behind a Force Barrier, Thayze dodged the hailfire by moving closer towards the walker. Its shape and size should allow him to hide from its firepower, while giving him the chance to analyse it’s architecture and try to sabotage it, or break his way open.

Igniting his cyan lightsaber, Thayze pushed his lightsaber through the middle of the bottom compartment of the walker, trying to find something that would damage the walker, or irritate the Chandra-Fan inside.

“Come on! Face me one on one coward!” he shouted, supposedly loud enough for people around to hear.​

​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Briana Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Imperius Indomitus

​

Lorn risked a quick glance over his right shoulder. Brandyn was there, poised, readying himself. Lorn didn't need the Force to understand the plan brewing in Brandyn's mind, he knew the man well enough. A slight nod was all he offered in acknowledgment of his whispers. A promise of cooperation, of trust.

He faced forward once more, the golden blade of his lightsaber humming impatiently in his grip. Being a distraction was something he could do, something he wanted to do. Rage simmered beneath his calm facade, a dangerous heat threatening to boil over. Every instinct screamed for him to charge, to unleash the torrent of his fury upon the dark figure that dared defile this sacred space. But he held it in check, forced it down, knowing that a controlled strike was far more effective than a blind assault.

Lorn shifted slightly, allowing Brandyn to slip away. His gaze then drifted to his left, a flicker of curiosity tugging at his focus. Briana. She radiated a strange tranquility, a sharp contrast to the rage within him and, he suspected, within Brandyn as well. How could she be so calm in the face of such overwhelming darkness?

But then she spoke, her words a cool counterpoint to the malice that permeated the air. Lorn felt a sudden surge of understanding, a synchronicity that transcended mere tactics. He knew where she was going, what she was planning. He was in sync with her, anticipating her move before she even made it.

And then she launched herself forward, a blur of motion and unleashed energy. The Force propelled her towards their towering enemy, a daring gambit designed to disrupt and unbalance. Lorn followed without hesitation, his movements a mirror of her intent. This was it. This was their chance.

He channeled his rage, not into blind fury, but into focused power. It flowed through him, electrifying every nerve, sharpening his senses. He dropped into a quick slide across the floor, the golden blade flashing in the dark as he surged forward, a lethal streak of light aimed at the Sith Lord's knees. A sliding attack, swift and unexpected.

Lorn poured all his energy into the strike, hoping to catch the behemoth off guard, to exploit the fraction of a second where his attention was diverted by Briana's daring assault. He pictured the blade cleaving through the heavy armor, disrupting his balance, creating an opening for Brandyn to exploit.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

So many dead. Brandyn jumped over corpses. They were simply lifeless forms with eyes screaming for release from the torture of their former existence. Now, they were just obstacles over which the fleet-footed Jedi Shadow jumped.

His eyes scanned the back of the building, though no immediate ingress was visible. "Come on...come on..."

He felt Briana tug at his subconscious. He knew immediately what she was attempting and opened his mind to the synchronicity of the meld. The attack was well underway now, and Brandyn's absence was being felt.

A fallen sign from the bar across the road was leaning against the back of the building. Brandyn reached out, and pulled. The sign flew away crashing into a nearby wall. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he noted that the sign had not been hiding an entrance.

Focus.

The meld brought his thoughts into clear focus. He did not even look up, but instead jumped. He hurtled through the air coming to rest atop the chapel. Crouching down, he moved forward towards a hole in the ceiling. He snuck a glance downwards. The peril on display caused his heart to skip a beat.

Focus.

Reaching back towards the door he departed from, Brandyn reached forth pulling one of the pews forward. The raucous nature of the Force pull was intentional.

Focus.

He stepped forward. Dropped directly towards the hulk of a Sith, only at the last moment did he ignite his blade, plunging it straight down.

| TAG: Lorn Reingard Imperius Indomitus Briana Sal-Soren |

​