// NEPHILIM //: Imperial Knight-Errant
// OBJECTIVE //: Operation Storm Surge
// TARGET //: BYSS
// ALLIES | NIO //:
Rurik Fel
// ALLIES | TGA //:
Bernard
// ENEMIES | TSE //: Heca Foliou
"Treasures are not won by care and forethought but by swift slaying and reckless attack."
- Michael Moorcock
"
Silence your screams."
"
Listen to my dark song."
"
Oathsworn, you are a child born unto destiny's pitiless machinations. Embrace the ruinous path set before you, open your heart to the blood of Chaos, and drink deep of its glorious power."
A black world bore down onto the unmoving body, its pale flesh soft and supple, a welcomed meal to the encroaching darkness. It raced closer, crashing over the inert form, crawling over every inch of the Albino's skin. Oathsworn, the shadows called it, though it knew not of these supposed oaths. It knew only the echoes of primal fear that which disturbed the squirming mass, echoes of the Oathsworn's abject terror pulsing with uncontrolled emotion. Some called the monstrous one Bogan, the Bringer of Ancient Darkness, Corrupter of the Innocent, Slayer of Hope, and Bearer of Infinite Suffering. None knew where he came from, nor what higher purpose he served. Mortals only knew of the disasters he would sow, reaping his own harvest, ripe with shattered souls and broken minds. Bogan's limitless power swirled around the pale one, hungrily he dove deep into it's being, searching for the Oathsworn's soul, ravenous as he consumed the purity of innocence.
The albino bit down, fighting back the hoarse screams threatening to bloody its throat. It yanked hard with one arm, finding no success as the squirming corruption locked it in place. Oathsworn, they called it, along with the Albino, Bendu, Imperial, Knight-Errant, Son, and Prince. All titles, as titles only carried weight, with no true bearing on one's name. It was a name that gave power. The utterance of one's name sent echoes throughout the stars, dancing throughout the infinite azure, to soon be heard. Seers looked beyond the limited sight of mortals, guided by the Force's inescapable presence to bear witness to such things as names. Errant Varanin, son of Spencer Varanin, Prince to the Moonwrought Throne, knew not a real name. It only knew titles, as those titles protected the moon sung from the clutches of Bogan.
"
You needn't scream, my son."
"
Hear my brilliant choir."
"
Oathsworn, fate would never abandon you. Turn away from the path of Chaos, bear witness to promises sworn to your ancestors. Bask in the light of true peace, wash away the sins of shadow, and open your heart to an unshaken Order."
Beams of gleaming white light pierced the shambling darkness drowning the Albino. Warmth licked at its back, spreading throughout the trapped body, breathing life into pained limbs. Where once they sat unmoving, lifeless and inanimate, each one came to as called to action. Slender fingers ripped away at the choking shadow. Claw-like fingernails tore into the Oathsworn's chest, beads of crimson ichor spilling forth, but it did not care. It continued to tear through Bogan's influence, accepting each self-inflicted wound as payment for this opportunity. Soon, the pale one stood, its nude form bathed in Ashla's loving embrace. It fell into the touch, reminded of another's warmth, something left unfelt for so long. What drove the Moonsung to turn away in search of answers?
As if turning to find those answers behind him, the Oathsworn saw only a face of absolute beauty. The light shifted, changing shape, and form with each flicker of energy. Angular cheekbones broke down, replaced by rounded flesh, supple, not unlike the Albino's own. It reached out, hoping to run bloodied fingers through Ashla's silken hair, entranced by cascading strands of silver and gold. Before the Knight-Errant found purchase in her divine grace, the world faded, the starlight and primal darkness left behind.
"
Varanin!"
Errant looked up, his pink eyes falling onto the armor-clad stormtrooper at the top of the dropship's ramp. The soldier waved the Imperial-Knight forward before he dashed down the length of the diagonal walkway. At the base of the ramp, three red bolts of screeching energy slammed into the soldier's chest. Not even a scream escaped him as his smoking body fell prone, the man's life ended from an unseen enemy. Errant stood up from his seated position, his hand loosening the lightsaber hilt at his belt. He took a deep breath and followed the fallen soldier's path, the silvery blade of his lightsaber surging to life, the familiar snap-hiss of the mythical weapon announcing the Albino's arrival. Not unlike the dead stormtrooper's fate, red bolts sought Errant's life, only to see immediate deflection, one returned to its keen-eyed master.
"
Filthy wretch," Errant's eyes narrowed, the other red-armored legionnaires visible as a constant stream of light illuminated the beach. The Knight dashed forward, his silver blade sweeping out in a visceral arc, taking the head off one Sith-Imperial's shoulders. To the other's credit, he lifted the rifle and took aim at the Imperial-Knight, only for the rifle's tip to fall to the sand with a faint thud. Steam rose from the molten metal that once was the blaster's barrel.
"
I will take pleasure in sending all who bow to Bogan's whim to join you in the Nether," Errant stepped forward, the weapon driven through the legionnaire's chest. A flick of the Imperial-Knight's wrist saw it wrenched free of his doomed foe, the body split in two as it slipped into the sands. The Albino looked elsewhere, searching for his squadron. Dozens of stormtrooper's littered the sand, their bodies broken by the shore's defensive. Further away, another gleaming blade of purifying white lit up the darkness, cleaving down to rend the soul from an unfortunate Sith-Imperial who stood before the Knight Commander. Errant fell into a jog, his steps carrying him closer to the beacon of the unbowed known as Rurik Wymar. Those foolish enough to cross the pale one's path met only doom, delivered with swift and brutal efficiency.
"
Knight Commander! My blade to your cause!" the Knight-Errant dropped beside him in one of the numerous trenches, his back pressed against the staunch warrior. Together, the duo cut a bloody swathe through the remainder of the surrounding legionnaire's, their combined might too much for the ignorant masses. Errant looked to his commander, head bowed in greeting. "
My squadron met an ill-fate, Commander Rurik. I am without support and await the arrival of our Jedi ally. What would you have me do?"