Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

8th post
OPERATION: SHATTERPOINT
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From the header to the template, it's all amazing work! Thank you very much, Nef! Scar Hounds are rollin' out in the DRIP now!
THE ANNIHILATION OF TYTHON

Objective 1: ATTACK EVERYTHING!!!!


Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

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ANOINTED ACOLYTE OF THE SCAR HOUNDS


Allies (BOTM/NSO):
Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis The Mongrel The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr
Shai Maji Shai Maji Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Darth Saevius Darth Saevius Ronar Ronar Scylla AI Scylla AI

Enemies (NIO/Enclave/NJO): Rose Dorce Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Aerys Myrrine Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Jas Katis Jas Katis Julian Qar Julian Qar Annor E-059
Saul Vandron Saul Vandron Tulan Kor Tulan Kor Asmus Omaand Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Kal Kal Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun Rex Valhoun


Loadout
Protection/Equipment
Beskar Brodie-Helm

Free-State Surplus Gas-Mask
2nd-Gen Galidraani SF Combat Webbing
Free-State Surplus Flak Jacket

Hipflask (Mineheel Moonshine)

Weaponry/Explosives

SA-35 Heavy Blaster Rifle

AP-25i "SIMP" Particle-Beam Blaster Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
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Old Fairbairn Vibrodagger
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X3 Incendiary Grenades

X2 Flashbangs
X3 Tetan Mastiffs
X5 Repurposed Valdr Skær-Pattern Dual-Role Droids

Scar Hound Array
X1 Scavenged Goliath Main Battle Tank
X50 SHT-66 "Malm-hrið" Heavy Battle Droids

X100 SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bikes
X75 Scavenged XT-62 "Cataphract" Main Battle Tanks
X20 Branchlurkers
X300 Moon Children


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NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FOURTEEN
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The Summit of Mt. Geran, Eastern Arros Range,
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autum of 876 ABY)


So this is why so many put such stock in the warfighting as it occurs.
So much is learned in such short intervals compared to the months and years of training.


I mean, just look at them go.... Nothing impeding them now.

The faceless saviours had kept the Bloodhound in the fight, and despite the close-calls and near-misses he encountered in the moments following the moments the lines initially clashed, Thomas had been able to gain enough breathing room to seek out the others, able to ascertain their whereabouts as soon as he was able to climb up onto No-Man's-Land and look back to the fight as it unfolded. Ghoul and Nail were holding their own remarkably, especially in light of the sheer weight of dead on either side of the struggle, and in that moment Thomas couldn't help but admire what the young Zabrak had been able to achieve on his first proper outing as a Scar Hound. It gave Barran comfort knowing he wasn't the only one doing well for their first fully-involved battle deployment, and in looking over to Runar and Spindly, the Bloodhound found himself laughing with a joy he never thought he'd feel in such a deathly, stinking setting.

A joy that felt similar to that which Thomas felt every time he heard the voice of his darling Rebirth.

These are faces that shine brighter now than the others ever have.
In all this time, and in all the good they've done so far.
The two latest additions to the Tri-Lunar Clique, as fresh as they were on the mind of the Bloodhound, were proving every part as worthy as their 1st-Gen colleagues, still throwing their weight behind every attack without fatigue or fear to be seen in either of them. This truly was where they belonged, just like Thomas believed of himself, but the one-eyed Woad knew he would need to work harder to keep them alive to fight again like this, a worthy task for any Warlord with interests in the long-game. He needed fearless warriors for the madness, the destruction and the ever-quickening cycle they all fervently tried to maintain, fearless forces of nature who could stand stand the test of time; and though Thomas held a special disdain for time and it's cruel urge to stagnate and fester, he knew that there were more designs around him at play than he could ever hope to influence or change completely, giving rise to a nagging need to be prepared for any and every outcome that affected the Scar Hounds.

'THATS HOW ITS DONE, SCAR HOUNDS!!!! WE BLEED THEM HERE - THE HILL THEY CHOSE TO DIE ON!!!!'

'WE BLEED THEM HERE AND NOW!!!!'

That same nagging sense, specific and sobering though it was, would still drive the Bloodhound to ponder on the fight that was yet to happen, a fight Barran felt would take an age to conclude. There was no doubt the Sabretooth-Troopers and Hellion mercenaries had dug in admirably, offering several lines of defence in the event the Mawites eventually crested the ridge to the north, and with the application of the faux-first trenchline taking more than enough Mawsworn warriors out with it, Thomas couldn't help but turn to see if there was a particular face among those in the distance who could have orchestrated such a strategy. But then the second-defensive line adopted offensive-posture, reading the thinning of the true-first trenchline's defenders as a sign the fight was growing more desperate than they had first thought, or as a sign that they had all the room they needed to break the Bloodhound's all-or-nothing charge for glory.

And like a rushing tide, the uniform-armoured mass came rushing over the top and deep into no-man's-land, sprinting forth towards the melee with vibrobayonets fixed, led by a tall, golden-eyed Sith Pureblood. The hulking Sith Pureblood's piercing stare was fixed solely on the one-eyed Woad's position, bearing down on him with pistol drawn as he roared,'MAWITE!', to get Barran's attention, answering the question in the Bloodhound's mind as his officer's pistol let loose with it's first shot. Fortunately for Thomas, the Flak Jacket was more than willing to take the punishment without damaging anything internally in the process, though it wouldn't matter much to Barran in these moments, as the force of impact against the flak-jacket had provided something akin to a liver-punch - with the follow-up second cracking a rib on the left side of his abdomen.

'OOOOOoooooo..... That's near point-blank range, the cheeky little-'
Interrupted by further shots, though these were aimed at Scar Hounds who were attempting to meet the threat holding the ground between trenchlines, and much to the Bloodhound's great chagrin, many had hit their mark. This individual was certainly fitting the presumption of competence, and by the looks of his heritage, there was no doubt this one would be difficult to overpower, and adding the advantage in height, weight, reach, and stamina, Barran began to understand that this fight for the mountain was stacked in the defenders' favour at every phase. Every angle had been covered in the planning stages, and to such an extent that surprises awaited for every trenchline the Mawites stormed en-masse, forcing impasse or defeat on the very summit Thomas wished to conquer, a true warfighting nightmare to baptize the Mongrel's successor under fire.

'You better be worth today's struggle!'

Hmmm.... Maybe I was too harsh, perhaps this one isn't so insufferable after all.
Laughing in response as he made a show of sheathing the Aethysian Romphaia, Barran responded,'Likewise! But first, tell me your name - an' perhaps I might tell you mine!', deciding there and then that he would join this Mercenary Captain in a pistols-and-blades CQC duel on this occasion. With a simple snatching motion, the old Fairbairn he found on Mar'Zambuul was drawn with blade facing downward, jutting out in all it's blackened glory whilst the Bloodhound drew his pistol to meet the duel's stipulations in the middle, playing his part in the spirit of fighting for a fair, clear victory over the Sith Pureblood challenging him so brazenly. Then, after setting his stance, Thomas concluded,'After all it is only proper with duels of this nature, even for madmen such as you and I!', adopting a southpaw stance in consideration of the eye he no longer possessed, still stinging with the pain of the same blade that Thomas held in the grip of his right hand.
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NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FIFTEEN
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Mt. Firthwatch, West of the Akar Kesh,
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876 ABY)


I see now why you unleashed your monsters first.

A brave request, but it served you well.

Troubling though the voice was to hear, the tone had certainly calmed in comparison to that which had invaded their minds before, a particular blessing of which the Tri-Lunars in observance were all too happy to take solace from. From this, Caz was safe in his assumption to respond,'My thanks, though I also express my apologies for the brief impertinence regardless. I do not know the proper decorum for encounters like this, though I promise to be wiser going forward.', gratefully nodding his kindness before turning back to the unfolding scene of madness in the Flesh Raider Grounds below. All those bearing witness from the many tops of Mt. Firthwatch could see the mayhem the Mineheel Firm had unleashed on the peoples and monsters below, seeing with ease the agitation and fearful reaction of the Flesh Raiders and all the other beasts in the area as they fled and flailed their way south or eastward, bringing about chaos of the likes they never thought possible.

'Avatars be praised.... It was already madness down there before, but now? Heh! We'll be drawing envy from all directions after this, Caz. Though I'm sure you know this to be true already.'

How so?
I am curious as to how this could draw the envy of others.

'Oh, well.... The battle appears to be going much easier for the friendlies on our flank, or at least, in comparison to all who came here with us anyway. Those in the center and on the right flank are having a much tougher time of it, though most of us have anticipated this before the fact.'

Satisfied with the candour, and the open nature of Rook's behaviour, the Entity's head turned back to draw her gaze to the bloody madness below again, proving every part as receptive to reserved behaviours as she was to pertinent information. And for as long as the powerless trio felt safe around her, they would be clueless as to how well-protected they would be in making such a choice, as the celestial observer was silently obscuring every last one of the tanks, their crewmen and commander from view of the tormented ones below, though only for as long as they persisted in staying there with the faceless Entity; persisting in observations of the likes they had never experienced before, and were unlikely to experience ever again, or so the three Scar Hound commanders thought. None among them could say what designs the Eternal had on their corporeal playing-pieces, and with this glaring reality conceptually impeding their comprehension of Divine Favour, the powerless trio would have no choice but to acquiesce either way.

'They don't know we're up here, do they?'

And so the quiet one finally speaks.

And this is a correct assumption to make, none can see because I made it so.

Dreamer bowed his head with sincerity and gratitude in answer, finding himself somewhat relieved that the Entity was choosing to look kindly on those who held the mountain, favouring one element over the misfortunate other in a quiet newfound preference to those who acquitted themselves properly in her presence. Whatever the mortal trio were doing right, they had been doing so from the offset, whether it be lack of rudeness or inappropriate behaviour, the acknowledgement of the Entity's existence, or the fact they were quiet enough throughout, it was still painfully obvious to the mortals that there was no way of knowing how or why. All they could do was go along with whatever was happening, all they could do was express gratitude for the small gesture of protection over them, as there was no official or divine decree to bind them or obligate them in any way to adhere, only that they watch the battle unfold with her - shielded in the strange reverie.

None can see any of your war-machines either.

'Thank you for that, but I fear this particular addition will not be necessary for long.'

Intense heat would pulsate a few times before it dissipated again, a flush of celestial rage, such that would remain despite the Entity's effort to suppress it, a rage of which Rook knew he was wrong to incur, but one the outspoken Tri-Lunar had no choice but to bring out in the attempt to make a play that would ultimately turn the tide on the Mawite left flank. If he could convince the Entity that this was the right choice to make, then countless Scar Hounds, Burned Legion Troopers and Mawsworn of every variety would survive to fight another day. And though the sacrifice rune was smeared on everyone who fought for Solipsis, there was the hope that such gestures would prove pointless in the event of a staggering victory over Jedi and Imperial alike, not that it would amount to much, though the Scar Hounds were willing to take their successes whenever and wherever they could carve any out for themselves.

Anything they could learn from, anything they could improve on - this was the way of Mar'Zambuul.

'I sincerely apologise, but in a few moments, I would like our enemies to feel the terror of seeing tank barrages adding to the mayhem we instigated a while ago.'

I hope for your sake that it works.

From the calmness of the voice, he could tell the worst of the anger had subsided, though Rook would be taking no chances. Turning to face her, Rook proffered,'We are of the same mind then, but if this succeeds, we may yet walk down into the valley together.... We can see all the strange wonders up close, and I am sure my associates would be willing to join us if you choose to accept.', just moments before an array of strange blue lights flashed into life. All around the Temple Valley, the goading spirits of the righteous were appearing at the shoulders of the loved ones who still remained to fight on in their absence. And in being unable to discern whether it would help the planet's defenders' efforts or not would leave Rook with no other choice but to try his luck anyway, the Branchlurkers were expected to die before long, so the aimless coverage of grid-space with firepower would come at no great cost to the mechanised units resting in the shadow of Akar Kesh.

If you succeed, I accept.

If you fail, I leave.

'We have ourselves a deal then.... Just a moment, please.'

<"All marked units, this is Rook. Load those idled HE-shells the Imperials love to punish us with, I have a statement to make.... Aim into the valley, indiscriminately - FIRE AT WILL!!!!">
 
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Location:Avatar of War
Allies: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Kaz Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen | Varik Awaud Varik Awaud | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon
Enemies: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | The Amalgam The Amalgam
Equipment:Equipment In Bio
Song:
As they pushed deeper into the avatar suddenly one of the squad status indicator lights on her helmet switched from green straight to red. She stopped signaling the rest of her squad to stop.

“Mandalorians sitrep…”

Before anyone in her squad could answer, screaming came over the net and blaster fire started down the hallway from her position. Quickly signaling to the squad she passed orders for four of them to go down the hallway to reinforce whatever Vod they might find down there. The remaining ten and herself pushed further into the ship trying to locate the central nervous system. Locating a turbolift they began working on getting the door open to give them access to the rest of the ship.



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Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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Our Higher Angels
ALLIANCE HIGH COMMISSION // NABOO
ONE WEEK PRIOR TO THE BATTLE OF TYTHON


Present: Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana
Elsewhere: Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe // Kel Se'Taav Kel Se'Taav // Eryk Thaxton // Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim // Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström // The Quartermaster The Quartermaster


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The former Chancellor smiled graciously as Isla accepted the invitation and joined arms with her. Adhira led her down the arched pathway where fragrant, purple flowers - reminiscent of bushels of berries - were hanging above their heads. She did not know the name of the flower, but made a mental note to make an inquiry for her own gardens. They smelled divine. "I haven always enjoyed walking through lush gardens like these," she answered when the Prime Minister mentioned having retreat on Lur, "my husband was an engineer by trade, but the place he truly excelled was in on our own estate back on Balmorra. I remember coming home from Coruscant and finding him tending to his Gold Fire Blossoms. Not even the gardeners could keep them alive, but Aarav?" The old woman inhaled deeply, remembering the scent of the flower. "He always said he could talk them out of dying..." she smiled.

"They haven't bloomed since -- well... since he died."

Adhira allowed a silence to settle briefly before Isla asked the question she was hoping to hear. The Ashlan leader inquired about her thoughts on the negotiations. She felt a wave of relief pass over her. It had been rather touch and go in the negotiation room and Adhira herself had not been quite so sure where the other members of the summit stood. Isla made it clear that she was not finished discussing the matter of a unified force and that was all Adhira needed to make headway on the issue. In any situation where conversations were being head, there was hope for agreement.

"Well..." she stopped at junction in the archways and turned to face Isla, "Chancellor Tithe is many things: he is tech savvy, he is good with finance, and he has an excellent taste in cheese. That is why I made him my deputy." Adhira gave Isla a knowing look. "He is also an abysmal communicator. But he means well, and I believe you can sense that in him."

"The stakes are high, Prime Minister. We are no longer talking about the consideration of conventional war, we are staring down the barrel of planetary obliteration. I presided as Chancellor over the greatest power in the galaxy for more than a decade and never once did we consider destroying a planet. We have gone beyond the pale."

"I have commanded armadas, overseen the defeat of the Sith Empire on multiple fronts, and in every such victory that we enjoyed, there was a centralized strategy."


The former Chancellor turned and walked on with Isla still grasping her arm. "What we need now from our allies is trust. Trust that through a central Supreme Allied Commander, a single point of strategy agreed upon by all parties, we may yet thwart this threat to galactic peace. None of us may rest while the Maw remains on the offensive, Prime Minister. Not even in the far reaches of space is the Crusade safe."

"If we are truly to bring Balance to the One Force, we must work together to ensure our mutual success..."
Adhira chewed her inner lip for a moment as they strolled along, "provided that the Crusade submits to a Supreme Commander, the Alliance will relent on our condition that only Alliance forces set foot upon Tython. Would your Parliament be agreeable to that?" Had Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe permitted her to make such a concession? No. But if she thumped him on the head hard enough would he agree? She was willing to take that bet.
 

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Outside of the Temple Ruins
Kick some Maw Ass
One Last Ride

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The Knight grunted as another blaster bolt pierced through his war torn robe, thus adding another searing mark to his upper right shoulder.

Reality shifted around him, making it difficult to tel how long the fight had been going on for. It could have been minutes, hours, days, hell even years. But he promised himself he wouldn’t stop until Tython was spared. That was the promise he kept trying to tell himself. One last heroic move before moving on from the ways of the Jedi.

Lunging his saber forward, the Knight stabbed a Maw creature in the middle of its chest, watching as a sickening shade of blood spewed outward. Raising his leg upward, the man kicked the creature away as his lightsaber retracted back.

The ground shook with another earthquake-like rumble. More pieces of the moon must have struck. After each collision the tremors seemed to become less noticeable, as if he could find some normalcy in all of this.

Grabbing onto his blaster pistol with his right hand, he fired off a quick volley of bolts towards an oncoming brute. One, striking the left side of this face. Two, just below the neck. Three, middle of the forward. Slash at the creature’s torso, the lightsaber finished it off.

It would be much time before the fight ended, but the Knight knew this was his place. This might be his final stand, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

Besides, this was his last ride before going off into the galaxy far, far away.
 
Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore
Alor of Clan Harert, Sith Lord, Former Mandalore the Ruthless
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Objective: To helping to her fellow Mawdalorians.
Location: Aboard of the Avatar
Equipment: Beskar'gam | 2x Beskad | 2x Su'arnr be Tracyn | 1x red blade lightsaber
Allies: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Vorm Vorm | SCAR SCAR
Enemies: Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Javik sudant | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Varik Awaud Varik Awaud | Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen
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[ Let There Be Night ]
<"Mandalorian or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Dodhorn arrives to her fellow Mawdalorians.
Dodhorn #1
Vilaz #1
Briika #1
Dodhorn #2
Vilaz #2
Dodhorn #3
Vilaz #3
Dodhorn #4

The fight continued, not only on top of the church, but everywhere else. Dodhorn, too, felt exactly when Khamul was finally able to kill the knight and the angel. Her lips drew to a sick smile under her helmet as she waited for her opponent to attack again. However, this has not yet happened; for it was not long before the storm began to subside. Dodhorn also saw the light of the sun shining through the clouds, and then the eye of the storm was formed. The former mocking smile turned into a grimace as she felt those two strong auras again.

The Mand'alor was not even able to kill others normally and permanently. She even growled for a moment. Her voice was like that of a growling wolf. She looked at the light as she snarled, saw the two angel-winged figures, and felt the power of the Lightside, which was very uncomfortable for the Hellwolf. Ashla, and everything the "goddess" represented, was very far from what the woman respected and followed. So far, she has not had the time and opportunity to better investigate what is going on down there…

And she didn't have time for it anymore, because at that moment she received a radio message from aboard the Avatar. That is, reinforcement would be needed up there. She looked at the couple; and how much she longed to taste their blood. But maybe another day. Meanwhile, she replied on the communication channel she'll go immediately. This could not be heard outside. Just her next words.

<"You are very lucky today; you can still live!"> her voice was not satisfied.

The next moment, she reached into the Force and then teleported off the surface of the planet. Quite a lot of energy could be utilised here and the rupture of reality also made Hellwolf's job easier. Thus, after the teleportation, she was already aboard the Avatar.

Dodhorn appeared right in the middle of the "battlefield" above, but not immediately in her full and true form. The darkness began to materialise, and dozens or at least a hundred tiny bat-like creatures appeared where the Darkness was concentrated. The bats eventually came together into a Mandalorian woman in red and black armour. Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore, arrived in the middle of the fight.

<"As I have heard, my children, that you do not prosper alone. Fear not, the reinforcement has arrived!"> she said in a mocking and contented voice. <"And I see you left me enough blood… Good boys!">

And she had only one wish about the battle, let there be blood.

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Overseer for Imperial Scientific Development



Dr. Trinity Harris w.o.
DXenbo MAnthro
Overseer for Scientific Development


Location: Landing on Tython
Objective: Scientific protection missions
Tags: OPEN but not for PVP

Weapon: HH38 Geysa Hybrid Pistol
Vibrokukri
Riding: Phantom
Accompanied by: Plushee Companion Droid
Wearing:
Hersir Imperial Uniform
Guardema Bio-suit
OPBC-01e
Ship: 2 x Carrack Class Science Vessel 1 military support and 2 storage mission pods
ENS Mihaly and ENS Prosperity

<text> for telepathic communication

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A mile and a half of climbing and steep caves lay ahead of them to get back out of the complex, and time was now of the essence, sporadic reports had managed to reach the Overseer deep beneath the surface of Tython, and they did not paint a pretty picture. Mawites had arrived in force in the system and engaged in one of the biggest fleet battles in history, the casualties on both sides were astronomical and it appeared the anet itself was genuinely in danger.

"Come on Ultranauts! Pick up the pace" commanded the Captain. Any other soldier would have broken but the Imperial elite found something else and managed to increase their speed. Dr. Harris was now glad that her short military training was backed up by a decade as a field scientist, it was probably the reason she hadn't completely shown herself up as they speed climbed. A sharp rock tore at her Guarderma suit, but the atmosphere was non-toxic and she felt the warmth of the nano-tech transferring material to patch the damage in a few seconds.

Suddenly, about two thirds of the way up the ground began to shake, dust and small rocks fell from the ceiling, raining down on the Imperials. Trinity looked at her instruments, something was up, the magnetic field of the planet was crooked and rhythmic impacts consistent with meteorite strikes were showing up, luckily the strikes were over a thousand kilometres away but the shock waves reached them quickly.

She had a horrible sinking feeling they needed to push forward no matter what. The Bendu were silent now but their words about the death of the world rang clear in her mind, and she did not intend to be on Tython when that happened.

She radioed ahead to her ship "Mihaly, this is Harris, we are approaching the landing site from below, please prepare for a hot take off and advise Prosperity to do the same."

As they reached the last few hundred metres, things began to level put and the eerie red glow from the tainted sky outside was beginning to stream in.the Overseer had the weirdest feeling inside her of pervading dread, as if the she was breathing in the pain of the world around her, but she pressed on, nearly to safety.

 

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E N D_O F_A N_E R A
Showdown over Tython


FINAL DAWN
TYTHON , DEEP CORE
Inside the Avatar of War...

OUTFIT




HAND OF JUDGEMENT - 66TH COMPANY


The Raptors once more forced a blaster door open soon entering yet another long hallway, but atlast their journey towards the Nutrient Storage was complete. House Io's team of Androids were most likely near the Nutrient Storage Area and thus it was imperative that Torson and his Raptors moved quickly in order to intercept them in time. Already they had withstood a series of challenges from getting sucked into space to poison gas and yet the Raptors still stood ready to confront House Io. But now the final confrontation at the Nutrient Storage room would soon begin and when it would House Io would finally learn that they weren't as invincible as they thought. "We're almost there men. Just one more door and we'll be at the Nutrient Storage area ready to intercept those House Io bastards." Torson said to his men as they would begin rapidly advancing towards the end of the hallway.

As soon as they reached the blast doors, the Raptors began to go to work with a small group of them working together to force open the last remaining blast door that would lead into the Nutrient Storage Room and thus allow the Raptors to ambush the incoming House Io forces. However as the Raptors were busy working with the blast doors, something unexpected happened. A series of portals opened up right behind them and from them emerged large undead monstrosities made out of a mixture flesh and armor. Another desperate move from House Io. Almost immediately, the remaining Raptors not working on the doors along with Torson opened fire upon the creatures who began slowly advancing towards them. Even as they unleashed hell upon the creatures only one of them fell to the ground dead as they continued to soak up the damage inflicted upon them by the Raptors.

"
Get that door open already!!!" Torson shouted as a portal opened up right above him. A Raptor took notice of this new development and quickly tackled the Captain before another undead creature landed right where Torson once stood. "I owe you one, trooper" Torson said to his comrade before regaining his senses. Then the Raptors who were working on the door finally managed to force only a part of the blast door open as to create a small gap large enough for only the Raptors to move through. "Fall back! Fall back!" Torson said as he began to walk back towards the blast doors providing cover fire to his Raptors. Once the last Raptor had past through the Blast Doors. Torson quickly slipped through the blast doors as they closed rapidly leaving the Undead creatures stuck inside that hallway.

Somehow, no Raptors had been lost during the encounter but more importantly they were here at the Nutrient Storage room, right in front of a staircase that led straight to the base level of the Storage Room. Now it was time to confront those House Io cowards directly and dismantle their foolish followers once and for all.


Tag | The Amalgam The Amalgam

 

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
Omen gave a small smile as the giant beast was smashed against the bulkhead by his crane's heavy hook and its rider dismounted. At least the biggest threat to the units as a whole was down for the count. Now to do the beast in permanently. With the twist of his wrist, he quickly moved the hook in position under the creature's chin and then lifted it up into its mouth. The creature's groans of pain soon turned into whimpers and eventually, the beast made no sound at all as its eyes glazed over as it finally gave in to death.

His helmet comms activated as he admired his work, giving him a start. It was one of his lieutenants, delivering a report from the holding cells. "Alor, we got everyone freed from the cells. Everyone that can still walk that is... What they have done down here... Its... so barbaric..." The Clone sighed as he heard the news. It was to be expected of course. The Maw didn't exactly give out teddy bears and 5-star suites to their captives. Still, it didn't exactly brighten his mood. "Just get whatever walking wounded you can into the escape pods and put trackers on them for immediate recovery. After that, leave a small caretaker team with the rest of the prisoners and come back up to the landing area. We still haven't cleared the LZ yet and the traitors are starting to mount a counterattack."

As he dismissed his subordinate, the ARC glanced out onto the battlefield and grimaced. The battle was going poorly... Every one of the Alors was being either engaged or pinned down and the enemy just wasn't giving up. And were those bats? Why were bats here of all places? Wait... was that a silhouette? His eyes widen as a female in red armor appeared out of the darkness and started spouting about how her minions had left her some blood to suck up. So she was one of the hard-core ones... Great... Well, she would wreak havoc among the troops if he didn't occupy her mind first. Closing his eyes and wading into his mental river, he would bust out the control room's window with a single push. As the broken glass fell to the ground below, he stood from his seat and raised one of his gauntlets at the new foe before firing every "whistling death" dart he had as the Clone shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hey Demagolka! Cannibalism is so last season!"

Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr SCAR SCAR Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Javik sudant
 

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Up and through the vents Surea went, calm. Collected. Her droid could guide her through, help her keep track of the Mandalorian's moving towards her position. One was coming. Alone? No, more were on their way, but this one was looking over the corpse? Surea's brow furrowed. In her life of assassination and killing, she'd never needed to cover her tracks. Kill, leave. The mess didn't matter.

Then danger.

She threw herself out of the vent, hissing aloud as blasters ripped through where she'd been. Where she was. Her legs caught the brunt of it. Lucky, perhaps, they were simply cybernetics. Though how damaged they were she wasn't sure. She turned, letting the blaster she'd stolen rip off it's particle shots. Much to her surprise, they exploded. When they hit things. What was a haphazard shot towards the threat impacted a wall a little too close, throwing her back and away.

:: More are on arrival. Oh, goody. I will have to clean up after you after all! ::

"Shut up." She hissed her words into the com as she dove behind a corner. Lifted the commandeered blaster in her rot infested hand. "Why don't you be useful and tell me how to deal with these armored idiots?"

:: Try aiming for the gaps in their armor. ::

"No sh-" More blaster fire. Surea sped down the hall, the Force in full strength as she dove into a room to evade.

Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor
 
"I'm gonna be honest Kai, once you get past a certain point with all the… inordinate exsanguination," the gears turning in her head could practically be seen, as she pulled forth intentionally big words for reasons unknown, "All the pain kinda feels the same."

Amani studied the serum with vague familiarity, "Oh yeah. Aren't those nice?" She seemed about ready to fall off topic again, but thankfully strained to keep her focus on not dying this time.

"Mkay. So… Basically it acts as a substitute for a universal donor. Yeah. All you gotta do is jab it in and let the serum do its work. Cool?"


 

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AKAR KESH MOUNTAINS
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He had had this dream, for countless nights he had dreamed of facing a horde of Sith and Mawites, making his final stand there and then. But this was no longer a dream.

He had attempted to make it to the site of the ritual alongside the other Jedi, but then the moon of Ashla came crashing into the surface. The moon. The karking MOON. If that wasn't bad enough, the very planet seemed to turn against them with volcanos erupting and the terrain cracking beneath them. Then reality started to break. All of this combined resulted in Darien becoming isolated from any allied force and being surrounded by the enemy.

He no longer knew how long he had been fighting. Days, weeks, months? Years? All he knew now was to fight and survive. Survive and fight. Just like before. But he could feel it. The exhaustion, the desperation, the dark emotions and compulsions he felt welling up inside him threatening to take over. Just like before. But he knew what happened before, what it cost him, cost others. So he pushed it down and focused on them.

Neverending, never stopping, all of them charging at him, their single mission in their mind to kill him, the one who had dared managed to make a stand against him. And he cut them down. Sith, Mawite, it didn't matter. They all fell to his blade. But no matter how much he could push down the darkness nagging at him, he couldn't escape the fatigue that was building, the growing effort it took to hold them back. It was then that they suddenly stopped.

He brought himself back from his trance, pain suddenly engulfing him. He then realised the extent of his injuries. He had cuts and bruises all over his body, a gash through his leg and a particularly nasty slash on the left of his abdomen, just short of disembowelling him and would have surly bled out had it not been made with a lightsaber.

Darien collapsed to his knees in pain and exhaustion, holding his wounds and looking up to see more Sith gathering, ready to finish him off. This was how they had always ended. The nightmares. He had always woken up, but he was not waking up from this. He was going to die here, that was it. No one to see his final moments but them.

Kark it.

With a great effort, he climbed to his feet, standing to face them. They began to taunt and laugh and jeer at him, one more Jedi for their trail of blood. With a look of defiance, he raised his saber, ready to bring as many of them with him as possible. Then, he felt something. A presence. A presence he had not felt since-

A ghostly hand placed itself on Darien's arm. He looked to see the face of Aldric Kovahn, his master, his teacher, the man he had considered his father, before him. "Master" was all he could muster. "My boy" Master Aldric said, talking as if he were to his own son "It is not yet your time". Closing his eyes in concentration, Aldric summoned a thunderstorm, casting down lightning at the Sith, who were still just standing and staring in bewilderment at the apparition that had just appeared before them.

As the Sith fell to the storm, Darien felt a lightness swelling within him, his strength returning. Igniting his lightsaber, he readied himself to face the remaining Sith. He turned to look at Master Aldric. So many things to say, but at that moment there was only one thing he could. "Together Master?" he asked. Aldric smiled "Always"








 

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TYTHON | WESTERN MOUNTAINS
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER | HELLION PRIVATE MERCENARY GROUP
ALLIES: NIO | ENCLAVE | Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran
ENEMIES: Buckle up
ENGAGING: Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | Open
GEAR: In bio | unit equipment

  • Jas gets serious
  • Morale is crumbling
  • The pincer attack pushes harder with tanks at the front.

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The Mawite at the helm of their attack was quick to take a more theatrical approach to the Pureblood’s challenge, Jas couldn’t help but think about the odd display in front of him. His accent was another indicator that there was more to the man than he suspected. Almost noble in a sense. ”Heh…” He hurled his bayonet into the chest of another encroaching foe and holstered his pistol. ”I don’t get paid enough for giving names. You can call me ‘Jas’ and leave it at that."

His free left hand stretched out to his side and a device snapped into it. A familiar hilt to anyone who fought Sith or Jedi in the past. In an unintentional recreation of pictures and battlefields in history, from the times Jedi generals led legions of armoured clones into hellfire almost a thousand years ago, when Sith knights conquered the galaxy in the days of the Old Republic thousands of years before, a crimson blade ignited with a droning snap-hiss to illuminate the battlefield around the Pureblood. A menacing grin formed as his golden eyes glared at his new opponent. ”You’re gonna need that sword, soldier, I’m not getting paid to fight amateurs today.” He spoke up before another unintentional recreation took form.

With a violent roar, the Pureblood lunged forward in a spiral through the air to meet his foe, his lightsaber droning as he swung with animalistic, violent precision to intercept the man’s vibroblade. He was cast out of the Sith order, hunted and pursued by those he once called “brother,” but he never halted with his training. And in the fields of Tython, against a horde bent on destruction, he had his opportunity to test his training to the limits.

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The fighting continued to swell against the foot of the mountain as the mercenaries fought hard. But numbers still counted, and the regiment of Hellions were hopelessly outnumbered by their ruthless enemy. Even the main camp in the mountains geared up and swapped out their logistical tools for rifles and grenades in hopes of supporting their comrades down the mountain, while others continued to feed ammunition to the artillery pieces.

The pincer attack along the left and right flanks of the Maw moved quickly with tanks leading the charge, but morale was starting to dwindle on whether the soldiers could claim victory on Tython.

But the bright crimson blade igniting among their ranks drew their attention. Their commander was still in the fight, right in the front line with them. As darkness and destruction loomed overhead, with a sun no longer shining down on them, a glimmer of hope emerged to bolster the lost souls.

 


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Rika Hiro|SIA Compnor|mountains of madness
A S C E N S I O N
Tags:// Don Belkora Don Belkora Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis
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What the hell is he saying, she muttered under her breath as she panicked and looked for another means of evening things out between her and her creepy Mawite nemesis, who seemed to be operating on a whole other plane of existence. Even reality seemed to bend in the monster's favour as the blackened ash-like soil twisted, reverberated, and rose from around her. Then the bright light came and with a screech of searing energy that seemed to overwhelm everything around her, she put up an arm to cover her eyes as she fired wildly and retreated gradually away.

"Ahhhh crap!"

The pain was so intense, it was as if the light had invaded every one of her senses and her very soul. She fell and stumbled behind a formation of rocks for cover, twisting and writhing in agony as she opened her eyes and wiped the mud and blood away to see better. Ptolemis was nowhere to be seen, and she didn't even know if the grenades even did its job or if she even hurt him. Rika only knew he was probably, at best, hurt and, at worst, very annoyed.

Her heart beat rose with each daunting moment, thudding rapidly as she felt his presence grow ever nearer. Rika clutched her blaster rifle for comfort, looking around for anything else left for options to survive or even killed Ptolemis for good.
 
<What's inordinate exsanguination?> he asked, brow furrowing.

But the serum would work, so he quickly stabbed her with the needle and injected the contents into her bloodstream. <Stop bleeding now.>

As if he could command her body to cease its... exsanguination with a thought. Well, maybe if he had learned Force healing, he could do that, but he hadn't learned yet. Should probably prioritize it, though, if he was going to be on other battlefields like this one in the near future.

Amani Serys Amani Serys
 


dn03CbHVbHykMqyPQ_9pQKgti-eirCNMUqs2oAo8VpB6UE7RqUb1XTqclCKLargBR-B2GvlU1ft-Wn5oOnH7k1w4N7yks7yuDlRoJt_JQvdnQ_WGIoI-sj7trxcLmr7HYnB-Mck8CikD7n0YqA

Allies: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Romi Jade Romi Jade Jace Khel Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel | Team Lightside
Enemies: Tythons Wound Tythons Wound | Team Darkside
Location: Flooded Plains


  • Thurion finally succumbs to the tsunami.
  • Before being washed away, he wraps himself in a Force bubble to protect his body.
  • He rests in a state of self-induced stasis until he is found and revived.

The parting of the great wave was unlike any feat the venerable Jedi Master had ever undertaken; he’d felled many a great foe in his considerable time as a Jedi, from powerful Sith Lords to even delivering the death blow to what could only be described as a god of the Valkyri pantheon. While grand in their own way, the martial way, this one feat was entirely dependent on his mastery of the Force. There was no evil to be slain, but instead nature to be defied, if briefly.

As the waves crashed on either side of him, redirected to leave a wedge of relative safety behind him so that the others could escape, he could no longer hear the roar of battle and the cries of pain he’d been surrounded by much of his lifetime. Every time he thought he could walk away from it, somehow he’d inevitably been drawn back in. Perhaps it was sheer naïvité that made him and Coci believe the galaxy would not hound them as they stepped down from leading the Silver Jedi Order decades back to settle down on Midvinter; that his father or older brother would be ruling for many decades more to come, and that his own family may live out their lives in peace and anonymity.

He could only laugh at his own folly.

As more water rushed in the pressure mounted even further, and with a loud groan he was forced to his knees, yet his arms still reached out to maintain the parting of the tsunami. He felt his physical form give in bit by bit, surrendering to the power of nature. As well they should. It would not be long now.

It is said that in a man’s last moments, their life flashes before their eyes. If you were to ask Thurion right this moment, that much was true. Key moments of his life replayed in his head, as if watching a holovid about himself:

First, there were the numerous losses he’d had to face. Old faces of friends he’d never see again, fellow Jedi that gave their lives under his leadership, and family members that he still missed dearly to this day. The passing of his father Thrand and his brother Thyrian, both High Kings of Midvinter. The loss of his dear adoptive mother Asha Seren, whose teachings and sacrifice set him on the path he still walks today.

Gradually, these flashes shifted in tone. Whereas at first they showed him the pain he’d lived through, they would go on to showcase the many instances of levity and love he’d experienced. From countless heartfelt interactions between him and his brother, his father, and many others. The fun he used to have while training under Asha’s tutelage at the Jedi Temple. But above all others, the acts of love demonstrated between himself and his Coci. Every kiss, every moment of passion and companionship. Their wedding ceremony.

As the rings were exchanged and placed upon their fingers, the cheers turned to cries of a newborn baby. Théodred, their firstborn, followed by those of Thirdas. Scenes from different stages of their lives growing up played out before him, along with Nina and his many other adopted children. All of them Heavenshield in equal measure. More childbirths followed; grandchildren, furthering his line of descendants and cementing his House for generations to come. His love for each and everyone of them was absolute, each a piece of his heart.


It was them he chose to live for now, forsaking his lifelong oath to the Jedi. The true reason behind his retirement; wishing to spend what time he could with his grandchildren before they too grow up. To live out the handful of good years with his wife they had left before the decline of old age set in, as she did not share the long life of the Valkyri like the rest of them.

Strained eyes opened slightly, and through blurred vision he saw the familiar set of golden gates beckoning once more. Through gritted teeth and a face etched in defiance, he spat in the face of defeat:

“I reject you, Death. I am not yet done living.”

As the wrath of the tsunami finally overwhelmed him, Thurion used the last remaining strength he still possessed to form an energy field around him; a Force bubble within which he resided unharmed, locked in a state of self-imposed stasis as the waves washed him away.

Find me. Wake me, when this is over,” he sent one final message through the merge with his fellow Jedi; his brothers Coren and Caltin, and sisters Romi and Celeste, among them. Hope endures.”

And with that, as the flooded plains turned to a veritable sea, Thurion Heavenshield was gone; locked within a watery tomb, unable to break free until someone were to rouse him from his slumber. But yet he lived, and he would see home again.

The Jedi Master was laid to rest in that great flood on Tython, but the Lion King would roar again.


Exit Thurion
 
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Objective: Engage enemy Combatants
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators x50, Magnetic Detonators x 50, Perun's Call
Allies: Enclave
Enemies: BOTM
Tagged: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Kaz Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | @Omen Mereel | Verin Oldo Verin Oldo | Vemric Keldra | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Khione | Vaux Gred | Mylo Thorne | Aculia Voland | Juno - 11/0571 | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Tren Chaar | Tu'teggacha | Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Vorm Vorm | OPEN

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Vulcan had been picking off Mawites with each pass. He also took to duel wielding his weapons to keep up with the hordes. These guys hated intruders, but the Enclave hated the Darksiders more. This is why it is up to everyone to do their part. He had directed concerned glances towards Gwyn, only to tuck his feet up to avoid gunfire taking his other leg, he can live with one Beskar Leg as it is. Vulcan hit a grabby Mawite square in the face with his metal leg almost immediately. He wanted to kick something for a while now, he got a firm tap on the nose and a reprimand for kicking a dustbin on Kestri.

The blood floated in the air he held it up defensively, daring someone else to try grabbing him. So far it has been a slow grind with Maw and Vod falling in the grasps of battle. Vulcan was lucky to remain unharmed, well he did end up losing coordination and hitting the ceiling a few times to avoid having his head cleaved open more than once.

He couldn't hear Kaz over the echoing noise within The Avatar, but there was an ample opportunity to aim a very unconventional attack right at the enemy, but then again, he needs to get a clear enough space to do so. He's got plenty of detonators to do this and, cause damage to the ship.

Vulcan made sure he had a clear view of Vorm, well he needed to be useful instead of being a child who can't fight with the adults. No one took him seriously, so now he is going to change that. He put his guns away and started separating half of his ordinance payload. He took a minute to arm them and started sending them Vorm's way.

He was disappointed he can't use lightning indoors because he wanted to use it more. Which was true, he wanted to hurt those who turned Shai against them. He was angry at them and at her, the kind of emotion he had refused to allow into his mind. As it will not be at all helpful for anyone, and it could jeopardise the whole objective. Then everyone will be troubled because he couldn't keep it in check.

<"From The Enclave with "love"!> He shouts as he aims as many as he can at the Sith/Mawite.
 
AhKkZ0ptBTyC0yi8tL-HzMADOgPJAydNCtQmC29ct_EKVyruzJl0okM1YeATK0-on6r7Nzb5EhZoR01A7s0Wa0dN-aByH99G-5iDG8wu_MzalPkLNi_JAHMliKJAw8Bs2GRgK0sf


Moving West of Akar Kesh
Engaging: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Open for any Heroes!
Relevant Tag: Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield | The Manifold | Romi Jade Romi Jade | Jace Khel


So beat the Shade of War's heart, Avatar of Tython, war drums sounding from within dark clouds.​

Avatar of light above met avatar of darkness below. The force had many such meetings, opposites clashing. Light of the heavens opening up and blinding potentially everyone, but especially a creature of shadow. Firstly the storm cleared above to part for the light, weakening any immediate weather effects like wind or rain.

Then the light from the Jedi, added to from the heavens parting above, sent the living shade screeching in obvious pain, turning left and right, its waves of shielding darknesses were pierced in multiple places. Searing hot against its form, it was actually driven back, simply unable to stand within both lights at once or be consumed.

From within the form, thunder-like war Drums began to beat within the shade, showing the potential armies to come, a legion, a walking ritual, and a portal to the war-torn dead. A ritual that believed it would never end!

...

Till that walking ritual met the largest blast of continuous lightning it had ever conceived, potentially knocking everything back, perhaps Ashla's avatars themselves took note! For if they did not see this then what would they see!

A shotgun-like discharge happened and the entity was propelled back further still, a huge hole formed in its armor, and pierced the core of its center mass. While his psychic attack tore at its innards, the distance did spare it from complete disintegration. Wounds upon its form allowed the first of the Ritual souls to be released. Unlike malformed sorcery being performed, these few souls were tormented but not driven to kill. Even shattered as they were the Jedi might seek them out later and give them some kind of peace. It may even prove a useful conduit, for one creative enough, because all had a voice in the chorus….

Sacrifice to gain - Continuing the Sith Phantasms Ritual!

Not attacking the Jedi Master directly, so focused on its own ritual. Bravely focusing just on the entity itself in the same way, the Jedi Master did not finish the three Sith Phantasms at his peril! Perhaps sparing them out of mercy for their torment, these ritual entities would not spare him. Pulling away and no longer trying to drag him under the softening earth, they were left to continue to form as the shade had, and the force phantoms became more solid. The first of the lost legion of Tython! The reason this ritual had drained the shade so much, as it did any sorcerer attempting it. Is because Caltin now faced four shades! Albeit three of them significantly less powerful representations of the misery about to befall him.

Each tormented soul bore one of the entity's own weapons, two with a vong fighting claw, and one with staff, leaving the Avatar largely defenseless to melee attack. Sacrifice to gain, its highest law. One Phantasm swooped down from above, one attacked left, and one attacked from behind. Trying to rip Caltin apart in a flurry of fast attacks. Sith Phantasms were no mere illusions, also known as Force Phantoms, they were horrific sith sorcery of the worst kind. Here they were formed as partially solid living shadows, birthed from Tython's shattered souls. Insanity wailing from their voices, faces of those who fell, not the easiest things in the world to kill but his aura of light was doing a good job!

Sadly the waves of a different kind had taken the great Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield ! Who survived but barely, the entity sensed Caltin would stand-alone "your allies are lost, and the sky will not save you." It would make sure of it.

Hopefully, the distraction brought it time! Because it now had a new debt to pay!

Waves of Darkness. War of the Avatars! Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

You will not lose yourself, never. This is your reward. - Words of Ashla
Let us show you a world free of sin! - The Kethenite Code.


Two could play the game of light and dark. The ritual's black blood, the surrounding waves of darkness were thrust upwards like a phantom of their own, seeking to choke the avatars of Ashla in Tython's twisted horror and pain, flooding their storm's eye with a new thunder. Was this the day the resurgent avatars would know fear? Would they too be tainted by the ritual's corruption? Whispers of the darkside potentially tormented their spirit, seeking to corrupt their pure hearts and twist them inside into Tython's latest horrors, because the purist creatures were often the most vulnerable to taint. Would one or both be turned to darkness? Lord Geiseric and Lady Eina might regret the day they were reborn in Tython's gaze. Keth's was not the iron hammer or killing blow, his tool was to shape like clay.

This did leave the wounded entity blow exposed to Caltin further, clearly visible, bleeding ash all over it, it needed to heal and quickly. With no defenses left. Teleporting back again, it had potentially made some good distance during the barrage of attacks against it and with the distracting shades. Although it was staggered badly, almost pulled apart from the inside out.

Force Drain (Healing)

On fresh ground, the entity plunged both hands deep into the earth. Blackening across the ground's surface, drinking of the planet's cup, one volcanic crack across its body sealed, then another was worked on… It needed new strength for one last attack, one final end to this that would finish this champion of Tython. Neither could probably keep this up much longer, the shade was healing the form, but it still had a sense of its force fatigue, and that was mounting. If anything its wounded form looked less solid, with the internal war going on, it was barely holding itself together!

What was left with all its physical weapons gone, and its force connection weak? Sacrifice to gain. The Kethenite code. Something very bad was about to happen, the force potentially warned Caltin of extreme danger building ahead. His opponent's back up against the wall, was when it was at its most dangerous.

~You should run.~
A familiar grating voice taunted from some distant corner of Tython.

Summary of Actions
The Shade is badly wounded, torn psychically, and hit by barrages of light and lightning. It's on its last legs. Its armor is almost gone and it is force fatigued.
Caltin free's a few of the tormented or shattered souls trapped inside, the shade is being pulled apart.
Waves of darkness are sent upward toward the storm's eye, potentially corrupting the pure avatars above or sending them mad. This leaves its wounded form below clearly visible.
The Three Force Phantoms now solidify and attack the Jedi master from the rear, the side, and above, wielding the entities' weapons as their own.
The shade is battered away by a torrent of attacks, teleporting backward further.
The entity force drains, trying to heal a few of its many wounds.
The force potentially warns Caltin of something horrific about to happen ahead.

Gear
Armor: Vonduun Skeer Kyrric Badly Broken
1x Amphistaff (Left Hand)
1x Huge Vonduun Crab Mace (Lost)
6x Razor Bug (Thrown)
2x Fighting Claws (Wrists)
2x Darth Krayt Armor Shards (Used)

Torment.
 
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Objective: 1
Location: Tython’s Crust close to the core
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Valery Noble Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble


The scent of blood hung thick to what little air there was in the depths of Tython. The sounds of metal burning against flesh, only echoed Even the blade twisting against his rotten flesh, the form was more monstrous now, the stitches of his mixed and mangled flesh were hanging, black infected muscle and tissue was seen, and if some looked closer one could spit a dead black heart, it need not beat anymore, if only to further expose the corrupted devilry that showed the horrific design of the Wrath of the Maw.

Even as the Jedi laughed, Kyrel continued to lash out ferociously, his saber still clutched in one hand, the other had turned his arm into a deadly blade capable of shredding through flesh with ease, even capable of withstanding a lightsaber blade’s direct impact. The laughter that echoed was drowned out, and didn’t stop Kyrel from the brutal melee he was engaged in. Even crashing through rock and fire, his horrifying face showed more peeled flesh, as well as the skull. He looked not quite himself, for the first time his form had been brought to a true abomination.

As the chasm they descended through burned, Kyrel was all but far from finished. His dark side connection was hazy, yet the powers of death sustained him. His fire kept burning as they were brought so close to the surface of the fiery pit, The Master Of Ren gripped the Jedi tightly as if to take Kahlil with him.

The Sith blade was practically useless against a monster such as him, his Sith Origins proved that much. What the Ren didn’t expect as they were close to the ground filled with magma, the blade burst into light letting another screech come from Kyrel showing his utter disdain for it. As soon as the blade plunged into him, his grip loosened on the Jedi. He stared into the man’s eyes with a gruesome sulfuric gaze, one that would pierce into his soul.

The light was so blinding it caused him to fall from the man, before his claw like figures in his monstrous stare gripped the crust. His saber plunged deep into the crust, and slowly he started to climb his way up, watching as the man hung in mid air. Looking at the man, he screamed now he was separated in a last gambit, his tongue shot out towards his legs as if to pull him into the hellish core with him. “If I go, so do you!”
 
"It means I'm bleeding a lot," Amani flashed him a lopsided grin, "It's a little doctor term. For us doctors, y'know?" She was, again worth noting, not an officially licensed doctor. Although such clarification was inconvenient given the amount of times she's had to say it. So sure, Amani had accepted the legally dubious title.

"Pshhh, I'm tryin' dude." She gave a flat-faced shake of her head, as if he was genuinely asking her to cut it out. "Hey why do you look so different?" The question finally had a chance to take prevalence, now that life and death matters didn't require her full attention for the time being, "You definitely didn't look like this last time we met."

 

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