Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

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Cycle of Hatred: Journey's End


Location: Tython, Journey's End
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran

  • Kallan re-emerges within Mercy's mind to stay her hand from suicide



Somewhere Else
~ Don't, ~ Kallan said. ~ Please, don't. ~

These were the first words he spoke within Mercy's mind.

It had taken time for him to gather himself, to adjust to someone else's synapses in the wake of the painful transition. For a long while he had been scattered across the far corners of Mercy's brain, struggling to re-form into something cohesive, to find his place among her thoughts. But in the end he had, and just in time. As he spoke, his voice strong and clear again, he reached out. All at once, Mercy would be able to feel his touch, breathe in his scent, see an image of him stretching out a hand to hold back the knife she held.

Kallan was separate from Asher now, completely and utterly. He had not seen the sixty long, beautiful years of memories that Mercy had given the man who'd been The Mongrel, images of the life they should have had together, a life that had never been. But if he had, he would have understood that it was the greatest gift anyone could have given to Asher. In those memories, The Mongrel had turned away from war. He had raised a family in a peaceful place, lived a good life, become a man of peace. He'd tried to make up for his mistakes.

And in the end, he had forgiven himself.

Nor had Kallan heard the words of Ashla's avatar... but he could guess at them. He knew that Asher and Mercy were bound together forever, this strange pair who had come together in the midst of horror and war, and found that love could bloom on a battlefield. Mercy had saved The Mongrel, saved him from the chains around his mind and the deep, gnawing emptiness that had been taking root in his soul. Because of her, he had died as Asher, and not as the broken, abused slave of the Brotherhood that they called The Mongrel.

Kallan wasn't Asher...

... but with him, Mercy wasn't alone.

~ He'll wait for you, Mercy, ~ Kallan told her. ~ If there's a place out there where dead souls go, he'll wait for you there. He'll wait for as long as it takes, because he has forever. ~ His touch on her arm was gentle but firm. He could not stop her from doing what she wanted to do, but he would certainly try. ~ You'll have forever, too. Please don't rush toward it. ~ Asher wanted Mercy to live; it was what he'd always wanted, for her to have a chance in this galaxy, a chance to live on. And Kallan wanted to live a little longer, too.

~ And you've been given one last gift. ~

Kallan could feel them, their lives...

... taking shape within Mercy.

Asher's children.

Twins.
 
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 continues flirting with Kralmus, where they finished last time.
  • After her command five groups of Blood Wolves arrive and start to use their Force abilities near/among the Enclave forces.
  • Dodhorn resurrects all of the dead soldiers, Mandalorians, warbeasts and they attack the Enclave forces.
Dodhorn #1
Vilaz #1
Briika #1
Dodhorn #2
Vilaz #2
Dodhorn #3
Vilaz #3
Dodhorn #4
Dodhorn #5
Kralmus #1
Vorm #1
Vorm #2

Well, now something happened that Dodhorn wasn't very used to. It was that almost no one noticed that the woman had arrived. Though it wasn't low, her black-and-red armour was striking enough, and her entrance was quite spectacular. The Hellwolf snarled under her helmet. Although, until the enemy notices, they may even have an advantage in the process. But still, the woman loved it if it was a striking phenomenon and they were scared of her arrival.

The world is changing and Hellwolf needs to increase her reputation to be awesome again. In any case, this gave her enough time to call for reinforcements. But before she could, someone noticed the woman was still here. The cute little puppy! She grinned under the helmet with a predatory smile. Under the helmet, wild instincts ignited in her eyes, including hunger. She licked her lower lip as she looked at the man. Of course, Kralmus could see nothing from the longing gaze.

Probably everyone would have misunderstood except the man. This gaze and longing were not a physical or spiritual attraction. No, it was a hunger that aroused in her to see something on his pointed teeth. Blood! She had known since the first meeting that the man was a cannibal, and from this state, it didn't take much time to reach that point where one starts to drink blood too. Tempting thoughts.

"Did you start dinner without me? I hope you didn't drink every drop of blood. How impatient you are, Kralmus!" she almost purred. " Next time wait for me, now I want to watch you the way you did, during my meal last time… or we can even eat someone, together. Just you and me!" she offered, in a deeper, still almost purring voice.

But, back to business! She telepathically contacted her own men on the ship, who had released five teams of Blood Wolves from the cloned version at the woman's command. Their loss was less significant if they died than the bred ones. The wolves won’t be able to break through armour, but they’ll be perfectly good at using Force abilities and creating fear in the enemy. Hopefully they will even escape.

<< I'm gaining some time to withdraw. It will probably keep them busy for long enough. >> she told on the comm. channel to the Mawites forces-

She began to back away a little to be in a place that was sheltered. When the grenades arrived, she dodged them, flying even further back with the jetpack. So now she had the right distance and a safe place. Dodhorn began to concentrate and reached into the Force. She started to utter ancient, very old Sith words…

"Dradzia diâ zudyti ki zûtaikima!" she commanded.

The Force began to concentrate around the dead, the woman's eyes glowing under the helmet and her powers reaching out to the Netherworld. She grabbed the souls still here, the fragments of souls that belonged to the dead, and tore them out of the cycle with necromancy and forced them back into their bodies. They didn’t have full consciousness, but that’s just enough to still remain good fighters and be able to handle weapons. They only collapse when their bodies are destroyed or someone tears the inserted soul out of the body. A Jedi or a Sith.

The bodies, that is, the now undead, rose from the earth, moving somewhat slower than in their lives, but they turned to the enemies of the Maw, the Enclave, and at the same time attacked the still-living warriors there; using their melee and ranged weapons. Meanwhile, the Blood Wolves also arrived and ran into the lines of the enemy, where they then activated the Force Fear and Waves of Darkness ability amidst howling and roaring, which did not affect the undead. Although to the people of Maw, yes, so if they were there, they too could feel fear and dread, not just their enemies.

In any case, this kind of reinforcement and distraction has hopefully given the Maw people enough time to retire safely…

Last post(?)​

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Location: Tython ruined surface, near Master Retreat ruins
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Jedi
Objective: Embrace Death

The Force seemed to swirl around Kyrel like a vortex. Every heavy step the burn flesh didn’t cease to fall from him. He wandered the ruined, cracked ground, on the inside it felt like an abyss appeared from within. The hole threatened to swallow Kyrel whole, and everything around him, the mantra that he had heard since the very beginning came back to haunt him. “Consume, Devour, Destroy.” It echoed inside his head, and instead of fighting it he would often embrace it. The death that cling to the air, mixed in with his need to feed creating something truly unique. As the walking pile of bones was both haunted, and yet curious by his recent transformation.

When he reached out, the Shadow felt cold, empty. Not like the fire he had so often felt. Instead of being discouraged, it only made him want to dive further into the darkness. Shedding the charred flesh, and the ravenous hunger that now overtook him, felt as if he was a snake shedding new skin. Left for dead on a world that cried out in pain, it was ironic in a sense. He wandered slowly, the dead around started to stir, and rise. Instead of the rotting corpses, this hungry effect had them more look like husks driven by Kyrel’s insatiable need. He kept pressing forward, looking to the sky and felt something was near, as the Sun itself looked angry upon Tython’s surface.

Then he stopped, feeling whiplash from the Force as it had stunned him. A man that had plagued his thoughts was no more. Slowly an ugly grin started to form as he spoke with mad glee. “The moment… at last!” He said, his gaze moving to Akar Kesh from where the disturbance came. Just like in his visions, Darth Solipsis was dead. When the realization started to finally hit him, next to the hunger he felt a wave of darkness washing over him. Clenching his fists, his grin spread fully to what bloody chunks of his face remain. He let out a howling laugh through the sky. “Hahahahahahaha!” As if the madman had been free of shackles.

With determination, his heavy reps turned towards the direction of the mountains. His thoughts run wild, as what little vegetation was along his path had withered and died. Solipsis dead, with him dead he realized that he would have the Maw within his grasp. With this hunger that coursed through his veins he would see the entire galaxy destroyed, Jedi and Sith reduced to footnotes in history, the dark side taken to full obliteration of the self. If Kyrel would not die, he would devour everything and everyone in this living hell of a galaxy.

He continued to march until he made it to the edges of the mountain. Perhaps he arrived here in some attempt to leave, looking towards Akar Kesh and then to the sky once more. The dark surge of energy from before, he felt an unsettling feeling creep through his Kyber spine. He stopped his advance, looking behind him then up the mountains. He finally made the choice not to continue, even as his body felt like it was being ripped apart by the shadow, that his hunger could no longer be satisfied. He looked up to the sky with determination, coming to reconcile that he would not run. “War, Death, Rebirth!!!” He shouted the Maw mantra, shifting his stance to now where he stood like a stone against the ground.

The Maw’s Wrath would not run like a coward, as a full believer he would embrace the Maw way. He would embrace the coming cataclysm with open arms. His arms extended out wide hands open palmed, his gaze fixed on the helish sky. What he sensed, he could and would not run from. Instead he would stand his ground. If he were to embrace the wound, he would invite death for a waltz upon the ruined hellscape.
 
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Just a Zach dueling Ingrid post
Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Duel: CLOSED
Links: Weapons | Chosen | Some vehicles and other stuff​


"Even if it is, you'll never be able to fulfill our goal! Do you want that, Ingrid? Do you want to die and never know if you succeeded or not? Leaving it in the hands of those less qualified, hoping that they might, just maybe, succeed in what you started?"

Zachariel shook his head, clearly indicating he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't sacrifice himself when he could sacrifice others in his stead. Not to mention, he had to see this through to the end. He had spent so many centuries working towards this goal that he would see it through. No matter what it cost, who he lost, or how many lives were spent on the way, he would see it through to its glorious conclusion. One way or another, that he swore to himself.

It was then that he followed her gaze, searching for what she felt happen. Then that Eina died and he saw Ingrid shatter. To any other being, her physical reaction would be some small sadness. But to Ingrid, Zachariel knew this was an overload of emotion if he could see her tears, feel her pain. That affected him, seeing such emotions from her. It surprised him truly, that he would care what she felt. But, it seemed he did care about his lover more than even he had realized.

As her hand reached his arm, his own reached up to grasp hers softly. She asks her question and he's silent for several long moments, thinking it over. After another moment, he tightens his grip on her hand for a moment before letting go.
"Go. See to her."

Even if he doesn't understand fully, nor know how to help her, he does understand that Eina is important to Ingrid. He can also see that she has no focus on the ritual, only for her daughter. So he steps back, letting Ingrid go to her daughters body. For another moment, he watches her and then finally turns his gaze away. His gaze shifts to the battlefield, sensing his Bloodsworn waging bloody war across the planet. He senses his warriors nearby, under Maeve battling the two interlopers. Elsewhere he feels them enter Kaleth, fighting the forces of good wherever they can.

For a moment, he allows himself to hope that everything will succeed, as he can still sense Solipsis fighting atop Akar Kesh. His ritual is still under way, with every death that happens it grows. And then, something changes. For a moment, Zachariel is unsure what, not willing to believe it. Turning towards Akar Kesh, he extends his senses hoping he was wrong. Instead, he senses the truth immediately. Darth Solipsis, Dark Voice of the Maw, is dead, slain in battle by someone.

Shock takes hold, as this wasn't anything he had expected. Oh by the Avatars, this wasn't supposed to happen. Solipsis still had a role to fulfill, a galaxy to change. This wasn't supposed to be his end, this wasn't supposed to be the end of the Brotherhood. They still had too much to do, far too many people to kill before this could happen. He was to die further down the line, at the hands of one of his followers, not someone under the thrall of the forces of good.
"No..." Snarling, he roars out suddenly. "No damn you, no!"

Growling, he begins to rush towards Akar Kesh. Damn him, this may doom the Brotherhood, may doom the plans Zachariel had that relied on this working. So now he rushed towards where the Dark Voice had fought, hoping that this may be salvageable, that something good may come of this. But the warlord knew the fates weren't that kind, that the Avatars would no doubt show their displeasure at the loss of their mortal leader. So as he ran, he sent orders to his Bloodsworn, made them prepare fight to the last, or to leave this accursed world.

Rushing up Akar Kesh, Zachariel swore one thing. This wouldn't be the end of the Brotherhood, nor the end of his Bloodsworn.


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Location: Mountain- Tython
Objective: Find Thomas Barran and give his answer
Equipment: Lightsaber, Voidsaber, SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bike
Allies: BOTM
Enemies: GA
Engaging: Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | Ronar Ronar


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The journey is at an end, everything was destroyed and the Force is screaming as there is a wound in the fabric, a moth hole too big to ignore. Superious had to change direction several times and re-ignited his Saber a few times to fall anyone who tried to blockade him. He had one mission now, get to Thomas and finally allow the answer to come naturally.

Speaking of, he had thought carefully even while duelling Silas, juggling all the pros and cons of being part of the Scar Hounds, the way it benefits him in the long run and how it will strengthen his place in the Maw. The offer was too good to ignore or dismiss even if he was being a warrior against a Jedi, it was never forgotten. He is a warlord but that doesn't mean he has to stick to one area of warlording. A flexible Sith is a useful one.

Superious jumped a rather large crack, flying once more into the burning sky, the temporary sensation of flight excited him, the sight must be awestriking to everyone else, although he may have saved face in the Crypts, he was still egotistical and unaware that allies had ducked as he crashed back down again. After a less than eventful ride up the mountain, he stopped and that unmistakable booming of Thomas's voice. It made his headache scream in annoyance and fury that made his eyes white out momentarily, but he kept it at bay. There was very little time for it.

There is very important stuff to take care of, the decision has been reached after much thought and analytical reasoning and the Force was giving him a warning about that moth hole widening within it and of a distant danger that may arrive at any time. Time was slipping away fast and they need to resolve any outstanding business before that. He walked, head held high, confidence blossoming he walked up to Thomas, as equals, respect was not easy to get, and once it is earned it is not easily shaken. A decision like this is never to be taken lightly and he knows it. He even had to decide to stop taking on an apprentice, it was simpler not to, Thierry was, after all, a capable Force User by then.

<"Lord Bloodhound., I have come to a decision,"> a pause and then, <"I accept your offer.">

The Ubese awaited Thomas's response.
 
Last edited:
Location: Avatar of War -> Brain Demon's Realm
POV: Rebecca Hahn, Citizen-Soldier
Tags: Esmeralda Io Esmeralda Io Joseph Torson Joseph Torson

One moment Rebecca was running, Mawite troops in hot pursuit.

In the next, she was stumbling head-first through a portal into another realm. The Brain Demon, the mysterious entity who had come to House Io's aid, had intervened to save her and Esmeralda's lives.

But at what cost?
 

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Location: Tython | Shuttle
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon:
Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Henna Ashina Henna Ashina Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder Auteme Cotan Sar'andor Asha Vynea Bernard Bernard Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Romi Jade Romi Jade Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Thurion Heavenshield Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Judah Lesan Corin Trenor Corin Trenor Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Zark San Tekka Amani Serys Kai Bamarri
Post: #18
Objective: Rally people to the Prosperity


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After connecting with the minds of other Jedi and sending out transmissions to reach those fighting on Tython's surface, Valery brought her shuttle down through the clouds and glanced over her shoulder at Kahlil, who she had helped into a seat. He was still unconscious but he was stable, and she smiled a little.

"We'll be at the medical facility soon, I just have to-"

She paused as the bleeping Comm system drew her attention.


"Overlord to Valery Noble, we request evac from the Jedi temple. We have collected an injured padawan requiring immediate medical, he isn't looking good right now. Exact position will be marked out with blue smoke, please confirm, over."

As quickly as she could, she reached for the button with a finger to reply to this call and let them know she was going to be coming for them. But before she could, there was another.

She had heard through their meld, which she could feel more deeply again -- "Val, we could use some evacuating here."

And another.
Then a voice on another channel, caught Aerys' attention, Valery Noble Valery Noble she chuckled lightly, "dun't worry bout me lass. We're makin' makin' sure yer Jedi and their lot make it out alright, yeah, goodbye Bobbs."

And with Cailen Corso Cailen Corso , Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze , Corin Trenor Corin Trenor , and Jem Fossk Jem Fossk soon joining those who need a ride out, Valery understood that she had quite the task ahead of her. But too many had lost their lives already, too many had endured great suffering on Tython as friends or loved ones fought until the bitter end. She wasn't going to allow any more of those she trusted, respected, befriended, and cared for to get killed today.

"This is Master Noble... Val, reaching out to those who need help. Sit tight — I'm coming for you."

Looking over her shoulder again, she flashed her sleeping husband a loving smile before it turned into a fiery look of determination. Her hands tightly gripped her controls and with incredible speed, she began moving from one location to another to pick each and every one of them up. Nothing was stopping the Jedi Master now — they were all going to make it back to the Prosperity to fight another day.

The Battle for Tython was finally over.

 
Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow
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Objective: Survive
Location: Journey's End, Tython
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Tags: The Mongrel The Mongrel | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
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[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

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  • Kallan saves Mercy's life.
  • All the memories and emotions are falling on her now.
  • Mercy has personality issues because of memories and personalities, she doesn’t know who she really is.
  • Her condition will get worse again and she will lose consciousness.
  • Mercy's men save her and Mongrel's body.
Mercy #1
Mongrel #1
Barran #1
Mercy #2
Mongrel #2
Mercy #3
Barran #2
Mongrel #3
Mercy #4
Barran #3
Mongrel #4
Mercy #5
Barran #4
Mongrel #5
Mercy #6
Barran #5
Mongrel #6
Mercy #7
Barran #6
Manifold #1
Mongrel #7
Mercy #8
Barran #7
Mongrel #8
Manifold #2
Mercy #9
Barran #8
Mongrel #9
Mercy #10
Mongrel #10
Mercy #11
Mongrel #11
Mercy #12
Eina #1
Barran #9
Mongrel #12
Mercy #13
Eina #2
Mercy #14
Mongrel #13

I felt the cold steel on my skin, the sharp pain, then the trickling, hot blood flowing under my armour. But something stopped me; stopped me from being with the man I love again. I heard his voice. For a moment, the flame of hope in my heart and soul flared up strongly and fiercely. For a moment I felt not the pain but the joy and hope. Just for a moment…

"Ashe-" I began to say happily, loudly, both in reality and in my mind.

So that when I realise it’s not my husband but Kallan, the hope and everything breaks down even more painful at once. Somewhere he was Asher too, but not completely. His arms and voice stopped me. The dagger was still clenching to my throat, but my hand didn't move. My hand shook and the dagger fell down into the snow. I was reminded of Odessen when Asher asked me to call him Kallan, I also told him my own name…

Now I could feel Kallan in my mind as if it had appeared out of nowhere. I could feel his touch, his scent, and I could see him. In two places. Not just in my mind, but in front of myself, as if I really grabbed my wrist everywhere, in reality and in my mind too. He looked like Asher, and it caused pain. Exactly the same. Because Asher was born of him. For me, they were one, even if they didn’t think so. But now Asher, my husband was no more, just Kallan.

"I see you, here too, in reality…" I whispered sobbing.

It's like a reality. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to go crazy, or because we share the same mind, brain? I looked up at him, reached out in both places. In reality, too, I felt like he was here, and in my mind the usual feeling was received as if it were reality. After his words, I sobbed loudly again. In reality, that was a lot and I fell back into the snow next to Asher’s body. My head hurt a lot and I also felt strong pressure. I saw another alarm from MANIAC, and after that I didn't feel anything in reality, outside my mind…

I was there in my mind with Kallan, trying to speak, but I failed. I only managed to do it after a very hard time, after several attempts.

~ The afterlife exists, not just think I know it… I was there when I was Freedom, the Omni drone. The Netherworld exists and he is there too. But it hurts, Kallan… hurts a lot. Never, no torture has hurt as much as this. I feel so empty, even after the sixty years we spent together in that alternative reality. I couldn't save him, I couldn't… just give him what we wanted but not here… not here. I couldn't save him, I am a failure… ~ I sobbed incessantly.

In addition to the pain, I suddenly felt happiness; I didn't understand why. It is a relief and a joy that Kallan lives. Endless pain and endless joy mingled in me. I walked over to him and hugged him. I was still sobbing, but now the tears of joy mingled with the tears of grief and mourning.

~ It is true, Kallan! No one's ever really gone! ~ I whispered to him. ~ What I wanted to say, there in the meadow, I wanted to show the beauties of a galaxy that was never tainted and corrupted by war… ~ the way I looked at him, he could now see his wife, not Mercy.

I groaned in pain and got to my head. Everything was so confusing, painful. His words about the gift didn’t even reach my mind at that moment. Embarrassed, I took a few steps back from him. Too many memories, too much pain, too much feeling. It was too overwhelming; I fell to my knees again.

~ Too many memories, I remember the lives, memories, feelings of all my personalities. to the original Keilara, Ziare, Mercy, when she was locked up, to the agonising years, and then when I became an Omni drone. Then when Mercy woke up, to the false memories she had given Ziare, when she was in control. The time you spent with your shattered self in the cage in the subconscious. I remember Keilara... I woke up again, the time she, I spent with you in the mind-palace, all the feelings, because I am Keilara, but I am also Mercy. I remember everything, the things I spent in reality, and the common part with Asher in our minds. I remember the sixty years we built and lived together before he died. And I remember everything that Asher was when our consciousness became completely one… ~ I said, gasping for air.

I was still squeezing my head to soothe the pain.

~ All united in me… and… I don’t know who I am anymore. ~

It was the moment when the benevolent darkness embraced my mind, where there is no pain and no need to think…

Mercy / Keilara was unconscious when Ryv and Solipsis died not so far away, on the other side of the island. MANIAC had previously sent out an alarm, so Mercy's men arrived shortly after with a dropship to rescue Warlord and the warlord's adviser. However, only Mongrel's body was found and Mercy was in a life-threatening, critical condition.

In any case, they were able to evacuate the armour and sword and Mercy before the situation on the planet became critical.


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Epilogue

~ Netherworld, Unknown Time ~
It is not known how much time has passed since Asher got here. It could be hours, days, weeks, years, or decades. At Netherworld, this doesn’t matter, time passes differently than in reality. It is so certain that Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir kept the promise she made to Asher on the day of his death. Ashla's avatar visited him regularly and told him about the man's wife and children. Last but not least, she helped him heal and find peace. Eina was very good at this and never expected and did not accept any gift for it.

One day, Asher was just doing his daily business in the garden when Eina appeared outside the fence. But she was not alone that day. Mercy stood beside her, who was exactly the same as the day Asher last saw her. A little further away, Kallan and Keilara were also there. Now they too were free, and their lives could begin, together, in the afterlife, where it could last forever.

The events were as they were on Noris at the time, before Kallan and Asher became two personalities.

He stood at the door. ~ Come in, Mercy. ~

The sight of her made him smile. She appeared on the outside of the fence around the house. And Asher was waiting for her at the door. She smiled at him; now she felt even more how much she missed him. And such an invitation could not be said to be no. She opened the gate and entered the garden. Mercy wanted to be dignified and patient, but she couldn’t be. She started running towards him to cease the distance between them as soon as possible.

That day, Asher did the same, he didn't stay in the door either. They met halfway through the garden, after a long time, for the first time.

When they got there, Mercy fell upon Asher's neck as soon as they got to each other, their minds and soul reconnected, intertwined once more and forever, it became one. She'd used to this during reality, when they're both alive, or when they were at home together, that the closeness, the feeling, to feel him, the lack of these feelings left a huge space, when they were very far away from each other. Without Asher, to her, every day and night was a suffering, even if Kallan did everything to ease her burden, he did his best to make Mercy have a less painful life.

Even, she felt herself alone in her own mind many times, without him; although, Kallan was with her all the time. She hasn’t kissed him yet, she just embraced him tightly with love as Asher did the same, and Mercy put her face on his shoulders close to his neck. She wanted to feel his embrace, his scent, him.

~ Asher… I missed you! ~ she whispered during the embrace as she sobbed. ~ I finished the movie as you asked, I can tell the end… ~

~ I missed you too, ~ Asher said.

After that, she just looked up at him, into his eyes. He hadn’t kissed her yet, and Mercy stroked his face, kindly, caringly, then leaned over and kissed him passionately. Whatever happened, they knew they were at home, while kissing and embracing each other.

Now, after much suffering and absence, they could be together again, their forever life together could finally begin, all that was foretold to them.

The end.​

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War
… of which they were only victims, and in the end everyone suffered.
Death
... the day when The Mongrel and Mercy's personalities died.
Rebirth
... the day when Asher was born, Kallan and Keilara were reborn.

The cycle must continue;
The Mongrel and Mercy's chapter ended,
but Kallan and Keilara's started.


Last post.​
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Hell Let Loose

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Location: Tython, Frontlines.
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Shatterpoint | Fight off Maw Incursion Alongside Allies
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 4
Friendlies: Enclave | NIO | GA| SJC | Ghalric Rau | Xyoz Maji Xyoz Maji | Sasha Kryze Sasha Kryze
Hostiles: Sith | Maw |
Directly Engaging: Shai Maji Shai Maji

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The Cult of 2112

His senses sharp, focused on the battle waged over the soul of his old friend, the giant continued to bide his time as he watched the fight evolve, waiting for the opportune moment to strike once more. As the EMP grenade thrown at the Wardog was deflected back to its sender, the giant merely spared the device a casual glance behind his glowing visor, keeping his focus on the Wardog instead. Knowing and trusting the capabilities of his armor, the giant was not bothered by the issues the grenade would pose to him if it weren't for the protective measures against the grenade his Iron Skin possessed.

”Hey! Babe?! Relax, you always get all ‘bleh, bleh-bleh’ when you’re hungry. I’ll cook you up a proper slab of steak, then we can talk. Just let me SORT THESE KRIFFERS OUT!”

His visuals in his HUD became fuzzy and garbled for only a mere moment as the sound of close to a dozen whistling birds reached his ears with their signature whine, shooting out the Wardog’s repulsor boots. Easily identifying those that were sent his way, the giant silently took one step rearwards as he raised the massive power hammer, and slammed the ground a few feet in front of him in full force with the massive weapon.

A deafening, thunderous boom cracked over the ridge where they battled, echoing on the mountains. Having neutralized the impending threat by detonating them mid air through the release of a shockwave, the giant sprung into action, set out to respond to the attack in kind. As he raised forth and aimed his left vambrace at the Wardog maneuvering back and forth mid-air with her repulsor boots, the giant would be momentarily taken aback by the unexpected torrent of lightning bolts that engulfed them all. Stumbling backwards in pain, a muffled, short lived gasp escaped his lips as his left hand instinctively covered over the source of the pain: his left upper quadrant. The piece of shrapnel that bit into his flesh from before had compromised the integrity of his flight suit, ripping through the insulant armor weave fabric.


"All you fucks.. Stop getting in the fucking way! Shai! Stop fuckin' around or I will straight up kill you!" Then he raised his hands. Lightning ripped from both his hands in an indiscriminate volley towards all of them. "Or at least stop fucking flying! That's so fucking annoying, all of you!"

Shooting a death stare at Xyoz as he stood his ground and fought through the throbbing pain vibrating over every fiber of his muscles, the giant reached for his particle blaster pistol in between muscular contractions caused by the relentless cyclone of lightning bolts hurled at the three of them. Having barely drawn his pistol under the unfavorable circumstances in between muscle spasms, the giant flipped the fire selector switch of the pistol to three round bursts with the flick of his thumb, and pulled the trigger after aiming at the Scoundrel once the barrel was leveled at him.

Sensing the relent in the conjured whirlwind of lightning bolts that engulfed him after he pulled the trigger, the giant raised his left vambrace at the Wardog once again as he dug in his heels, anchoring himself. Aiming the grappling line launcher at both her shins with the intent of the line coiling around her legs, the giant would try to tug her towards himself, pulling with all his strength.
<”Sort us out? Why don’t you start with ME first, huh!?”> The giant would shout as he tugged. If successful, the giant would let the sudden change of her direction and velocity caused by him to carry her towards him, as he grasped the power hammer with both hands, drawing it back and winding up for a powerful swing to meet the Wardog mid air. As soon as his friend was in swinging distance, the giant would let loose and swing the massive hammer, aimed square at her chestplate.


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ALLIES | Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
FOES | Laoth Laoth

Across a distance like this one it was difficult to catch every detail.

Sardun glanced down with worry at Ish's state.

"You are wounded, Ishida." Stating the obvious, but the Jedi was concerned. Could he- no... she would never forgive him that. "I will... do what I can... but-"

Beneath the gilded armor Sardun frowned.

This would have consequences. A cost. Always. Michael didn't mind bearing it, but could Ishida? Would she feel guilty? "But... you might not see me again for a while." Before Ishida could ask for any clarification, his shape started to grow sharper. More there. Reversing from dream to something a bit more solid. At the same time he began to glow.

"Remember- you are my Padawan and I am proud of you. Always."

All of a sudden a surge of power ripped through the area.

It sunk deep inside of Ishida, burning her, scorching her under the skin and leaving in its wake pain... but healing. It was like Bernard Bernard had said... his Light had no warmth, no softness. It was cold heat that left nothing in its wake besides utility. And right now Sardun's strength was pouring into his Padawan.

Elsewhere... on a lone ship in Hyperspace... a large armored man collapsed to a knee.

Still existing.

"You will live." His voice was already faltering. "And you will continue forward... duty and the Light. Do not forget this." The light was already dimming as Sardun looked up into the sky. "Take my hand.... I have just enough strength to do this last thing."

His free hand pointed to the sky. Somewhere beyond it was Prosperity. He could feel it. The hard thumping of the Light, a congregation of the brightest.

"Can you see? It's beautiful."
 


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T H E
Q U A R T E R M A S T E R

Objective: Summit on Naboo
Tag: Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra | Eryk Thaxton | Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal | Kel Se'Taav Kel Se'Taav

The Quartermaster listened silently as the Chancellor explained the details of compensation. Her reactions, expressions, thoughts were all concealed; the golden inlay helmet was a mask that did not betray her inner thoughts. Mandalorians were used to helmet-to-helmet communication, and culturally they had evolved to interpret other aspects of body language to discern emotion, but outsiders to the Mandalorian way were often unsettled by the seemingly blank stares they received.

After a moment of shared silence between the two, the Quartermaster spoke. "These terms are satisfactory. But the fact remains that we are our own, sovereign people, Chancellor. We are not Alliance Defense Force soldiers for you to sacrifice at whim. We sit among the ruins of the last faction who blindly believed that," she said, casting her gaze around the room they knelt in and the planet it stood on.

She took a moment to stand, inviting the Chancellor to stand with her. "We agree to stand side by side on Tython against the Sith onslaught, as we have always been. Our governments have been allied since the beginning of the Enclave's reign in the Outer Rim; it would be unwise to throw away years of cooperation over political grandstanding on the eve of the galaxy's direst hour. My Mandalorians will not operate without coordination between other allied forces, but we also will only answer to our own, because we are only our own. Are these terms. . . acceptable?" She asked, mirroring the Chancellor's own verbage.

 


Communication "verbal" <<technopathy>>

Objective: respond to distress signal
Tag: Hilal Vizsla Hilal Vizsla

Loadout:
Loralora interceptor swoop
Gei Borugu Electro Spear
Light Saber (peony colour blade)
Laser Lance

Akemi now had access and control of the damaged power suit's.systems, it was an interesting suit, pretty and unlike any mandalorian suit she had seen. Several of the components didn't seem entirely compatible so she suspected it was home made, there were certainly things Akemi would do differently. Based on the suits geolocation systems she gathered its home was a planet called Kestri, deep in Enclave space. She would take the girl home, non-synthetics were so fragile and this one had taken serious damage.

"I'm Akemi," she said, still speaking Mando'a, "I am here to help, there are no enemies nearby so please rest as much as you can." between Akemi's dovin basal heart and the remaining repulsor systems, it was a quick journey back to the House Io dropship where a medical droid would support her and hopefully put the poor girl back together.

With a thought, Akemi turned off the alarms that were buzzing in the suit, it would be touch and go whether the girl would live or not, the last thing she needed was urgent alarms increasing her adrenaline levels, she was probably aware her suit was wrecked.

"your suit was made by Hilal, is that your name? Its a nice suit, you should be very proud." she made small talk as she walked up the ramp and the ship took off at her command before the model 3 at the controls plotted the journey to Kestri and made the jump, Akemi considered delivering her straight back to her allies but the battle was still raging as the small but stealthy vessel streaked between a pair of Eternal Empire warships and out towards a safe egress point. The girl was very quiet but seemed to be coming around now.

"I am taking you to Kestri, i hope that is ok?" As she woke up she would note that her armour had now been removed and she was undressed lying on a medical table with just a thin sheet covering her shattered body.


 

Kaz Krayt

Guest
K
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TYTHON | AVATAR OF WAR
ENCLAVE | BOARDING FORCE
ALLIES: ENCLAVE | Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen | Varik Awaud Varik Awaud |
ENEMIES: MAW | Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha | Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert
PROXIMITY: Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Javik sudant
ENGAGING: Vorm Vorm | OPEN
GEAR: In bio

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Kaz took a gamble as he closed the distance between him and the knight of Ren, hoping to end the fight quickly in order to help Vulcan. He placed the boy’s life below the final blow to end this duel, a naive hope to cut the fight short and save his Vod, but to also claim the glory of cutting down a fierce rival in the Brotherhood of the Maw.

How wrong the immature Zabrak was.

It was as if time slowed for the Zabrak warrior. In one moment, the Knight of Ren was in front of him, deflecting deadly sonic bolts in a fight for his life. The next moment, he was gone. In his place, a single silver sphere remained with its flickering light glimmering in front of Kaz. He had no time to react or alternate his course for personal glory. All that remained was the morbid realisation of the mistake he made.

He took a gamble, betted all his chips on this charge to try and end the fight in order to save his Vod. But in reality, the latter was only secondary in his goal. He was selfish, chasing a thought of winning fame and glory, one more post on his social media to garner more likes.

And as the hybrid detonator exploded and a shower of Beskar nails came for him, that was the only thought he had.

The Zabrak crashed into the ground, hurled away by the power of the explosion as several nails pierced his armour and skin to inflict several lethal wounds. By the time he got his bearings, the fallen Mandalorians around him rose up again, their fury and weapons turned on their former brothers. Through the haze and pain, one single thought kept pumping through his mind as blood seeped through the wounds from Vulcan’s grenade.

Survival.

Kaz forced himself through the pain and rose again, his pistol firing wildly at any and all that dared to oppose him as he rushed over to Vulcan. Once he reached the boy, he grabbed hold of his arm and slung it over his neck as he dragged the Ubese along, back to safety inside an Enclave gunship. His instincts was to reassure the boy that everything would be fine, that he would survive just like he did many times before in his times with the Hutts.

”I’m sorry, Vulc.”

An involuntary sentence, he didn’t even know what he said until several seconds passed.

His mates in his merc days always told him that “drunk words are sober thoughts.” Even some uppity, racist Sith Pureblood told him that, even if he didn’t know how to use a datapad. It stayed true, even in a moment such as this. As adrenaline pulsed through him and forced him forward, the only thing that went through his head was that single thought. He betted on Red, the Roulette table landed on Black. And it could potentially cost the life of someone he was supposed to care for above all else.

As his vision faded, all he could hope was that he could at least make that right…

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E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S
Moderator
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Planet Hell ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid continues to speaking with Zach.
  • Ingrid senses what happen everywhere.
  • She runs after Zach.
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Zachariel #1
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Ingrid #12
Zachariel #12

"Zach! I'm already part of the Netherworld. Do you think my death would stop me?" she asked him.

She doubted it would stop her, after all, she was really part of Netherworld. If she didn't share the same fate that her late husband suffered, she would be able to come back. The death wasn't the end.

"You know I’ve already sacrificed a portion of my soul, and it’s tied me to the Netherworld. I could come back anytime. Under these circumstances, the "sacrifice" of my life is not so terrible." she smiled for a moment.

After that, Eina died. Yes, it hurt a lot for Ingrid; very few stood close to the red-haired woman, but their loss always hurt her. And there were those, where she could not hide it. Although her reaction now was much less intense than in Adrian's death. True, she was alone then, and now Zach was here and the man seemed to support her. This surprised the woman, but it was a pleasant disappointment. She looked at him gratefully as the man squeezed her hand kindly. In fact, in the end, Zach even let her close to the ritual. When she doesn’t care about the ritual anymore. Ironic.

"Thank you, sincerely!" she told him.

She started up when suddenly the storm stopped, Ashla's light covered the battlefield, which was painful for the woman but filled with a familiar feeling. Ingrid looked up into the air, her daughter and her son-in-law were there. The Light of Ashla and the Shield of Ashla returned. She was filled with endless relief. However, the following events became quick, even Ingrid felt someone tear a soul out of the ritual, and then Eina went to that place. Eventually Solipsis and someone else got to that place.

And it was over. Both of them were dead, and Eina wasn't there either. Though she felt her daughter only went to Netherworld with a soul. Oh! The Mongrel was dead too! And Eina took him? Something is very wrong in this place. By this time she heard Zachariel's voice, the man was already running past the woman. It annoyed her for a moment that someone else had killed Solipsis, the second ruler to be stolen from her.

"Damn it, Zachariel! Come back!" she shouted after him.

It was then that the red-haired woman saw the reports that MANIAC had collected and grouped. Feth!

<< This is L'lerim to all of the Eternal Imperial units and troops! Everyone starts retreating from the surface of the planet right away! Immediately! >> she commanded.

The Empress picked up her helmet and ran after Zachariel; the woman had no intention of dying on this planet, nor did she want her friend and lover to die foolishly. So if all goes wrong, she will teleport herself to Netherworld and take Zach with her, even if the man protests. After all, Zach said he didn’t want to die for any plans. Ingrid will make sure that is the case.

Last post(?)]​
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THE NEW JEDI ORDER | TYTHON | ASCENDING AKAR KESH WHO KNOWS, SOMEWHERE IN THE FORCE ITSELF I GUESS EN ROUTE TO PROSPERITY
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There was nothing she wanted more than for Sardun to be real, and truly there with her on Tython. Nothing more than to get away from this cursed temple, to rejoin the fight and save those waterfalls, that soundless desert. To actualize the promise Bernard had made to her. They’d visit each one, hand in hand.

But the thoughtful slowness of Sardun’s words was not because he was an apparition of her will. Not because time and space made his responses pensive and considerate, more emotionally resounding than they’d ever then.

"You are wounded, Ishida."
"I will... do what I can... but-"

"But... you might not see me again for a while.

Dread welled in her realization, and it felt like drowning. It filled her lungs, nose, and mouth with suffocating awareness and belated regret.

She wanted nothing less than for Sardun to be real, and truly there with her on Tython.

"Remember- you are my Padawan and I am proud of you. Always."

“Master,” the lone title bubbled out of her mouth, her voice thin. Could he hear her across the stars?

The world went white before she could respond appropriately.

Her body buzzed like she’d stepped into the blast from a firehose. Her head bent back, spine arching against herself. Her hands flexed open, her toes curled until it seemed like they had to break.

Fire flashed through her bloodstream, white-hot pain. Everything around her wound was radiating and excruciating, and yet somehow sweet. She felt extreme Light’s breath of life, calming, fresh and powerful while immensely painful run through her in an indescribable blossom before it became something impressive, expansive, and infinitesimal all at once.

Thousands of thousands of explosions rippled through her cells, bursting and shattering in sequential eruptions. Cells of herself became molecules –– countless, complex, varied.

Her body seemed very large, like it had expanded to fill the universe, or the universe had shrunk down until it fit in her skin.

Take my hand.... I have just enough strength to do this last thing."

Her hands seemed a very long way away. Even something as simple as physical touch was hard to feel, there was nothing but pain. Throbbing, all-consuming pain. But she managed, somehow, to move through the current of healing and grip onto the incredibly sized mit of her master. It was poetic, in a way, that he’d reach out his hand like that to her once again. A lifetime ago, when she’d first left Atrisia, he’d done the same to accept her as his Padawan.

A reminder that beneath the frozen glacier was a man who once held a tiny hand and squeezed it reassuringly. A lifetime ago.

Those tears she’d been holding in fell freely now, little crystals that shone through the magnificent incandescence of Sardun’s power.

“I didn’t mean to.. not like this..” Ishida apologized, the words glittered and shone through their shared reality. Her heart was bleeding in her mouth, and all she wanted was to undo her selfish ask. Her plea for help. She should have figured out a way to do it on her own, not at the sacrifice of her teacher. A man she ricocheted between certainty and doubt between — and why? For what? He’d only ever shown her the harsh truth of the galaxy.

He was focused ahead, so sure of the outcome of her deliverance.

"Can you see? It's beautiful."

It took a lifetime for Ishida to peel her foggy gaze from the outline of her Master’s face, and in the direction, he insisted. She would not have if he hadn’t asked her to.

Unbelievably, somehow, through the mist and convolution, she could see.

All the Jedi in their power, together, luminescent.

“Yes, Master. It is beautiful.”



ALLIES | NJO | GA | Bernard Bernard | Henna Ashina Henna Ashina | Michael Sardun Michael Sardun
FOES | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Laoth Laoth

 
ALLIES | Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
FOES | Laoth Laoth

"Don't be sad, Ish." He rarely used that affectionate name for her. Perhaps that had been a mistake. "I always thought... my end would come on the battlefield. Doing my duty one last time." A soft chuckle, the sound of which was even rarer than what had come before. "...I never had a daughter... but... I am glad."

He crumbled to his side and shuddered.

"-that my last act... was to save the daughter I never knew I... needed."

Sardun smiled as he felt the Light's embrace.

His eyes shuddered to a close.

His power left him there and it rushed into Ishida. These were the last words she heard, before she was ripped from his grasp, and send forward towards that great gathering of stalwart defenders. His presence was with her still. At least for those last brief moments. Within the cold void of space as Sardun pushed her along.

Serve them, lead them. A true leader serves first. My last lesson to you... Lord of Light.

And just like that... Sardun was gone.

Winked away. Oh so peaceful compared to the cold maelstrom that had become before.

He left her on Prosperity. Somewhere. A specific place had been beyond him. But hopefully... it would be enough.

Armor, cloak, ring; rang sharp on the floor before coming to a still. No man within. Only quietness for the first time in decades.
 
10th post
OPERATION: SHATTERPOINT
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Objective: Fight the Mongrel

THE_WOAD
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Lord-General of IMPAF (Imperial Armed-Forces)
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LOADOUT
Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore

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Allies (NIO/Enclave/Other): Rurik Fel Rurik Fel Annor E-059 Rose Dorce Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra
Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Aerys Fortan Jas Katis Jas Katis Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor Ollis Barran Ollis Barran
Saul Vandron Saul Vandron Asmus Omaand Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Kal Kal Madison Starr
Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun Rex Valhoun Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart Tulan Kor Tulan Kor Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

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


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COMETS COLLIDE: ORDER VS. CHAOS - PART 26
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West Bank, Lake Kaleth,
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876 ABY)
TLDR:
Eina communicates telepathically as Erskine Marić and Hassan make it to the West bank Under cover of the fog of war
Barran carries Marić as Hassan offers as much cover as his concussion would allow. All whilst thinking of what Eina said to him before.
They reach an abandoned settlement on a high plateau, rest, and look on the view.
Eina reaches Erskine telepathically for parting comments and promises made
You don't have to feel pain and grief, death is just another step, a new life, the beginning of a new existence. I'm sure, you'll see him again one day.

'I- I don't know how it happened, Lord-Gener-'

Calm were the waves on the lake, but the tension of the battle all around them had become so omnipresent it could have been said that the tension itself was tangible enough to cut with a knife, especially in the moments after mooring closer to the action; and yet, despite the old Woad's clear difference in energy-reserves, Barran would wisely opt for a quieter, stealthier approach to Mt. Kalikori instead - realising that slipping by unnoticed with a badly injured Sabretooth-Trooper on his back would be a difficult enough task without adding hostilities to the mix.

'-Hassan, please! Sorry to interrupt you.... But - whatever happened on your flank, it can wait.'

Kindly interrupting his subordinate, Lord Erskine made a point of putting the young Kandaran's mind at ease whilst giving himself enough breathing-room to put his own at ease in turn, thinking much on the parting words of the Saint when he was still walking away from the duel's aftermath, but also thinking much on the task at hand at his eyes looked down to Marić and the broken back-pieces of his trooper armour. None of this would be easy, but Barran made sure to relent further in keeping his subordinates' spirits up, continuing,'I mean, of course it can wait.... It's not healthy to circle the drain like that- heh! Ironic, as in the minutes leading up to our encounter, I was circling one of my own.', lifting the numb, limp-legged son of the Mantellska to his shoulders and letting Branko hold on with hands clasped at Erskine's collarbones.

You are still primarily a man, to be a ruler is secondary. You speak exactly like my mother. Even after nearly fifteen years, she thinks the throne and crown of the Eternal Empire as a curse.

'All three of us had - the worst day imaginable, so as far that drain-talk goes, I-I understand. We made it though, we're alive, and that's the most imp.... Feth, man! The most important takeaway from Tython, I th-think.'

The concussion seemed just a bit too heavy on Samir to be a simple concussion, but until they could get to the summit of Mt. Kalikori, there was nothing the others could have or should have said and done to make the situation any easier for him. Concerning Branko in particular, the stim-numbed, paralysed Marić leaned in towards Barran and whispered,'I'm getting shipped out, clearly on a medical.... But I think it could be an early grave for Hassan - still haven't had the heart to take his helmet off yet. I'm sorry, Lord-General.', hanging head low in a dejectedness much deeper than the old Woad initially assumed. The ruler-in-waiting clenched his jaw and grimaced, shaking his head at the fact it was already looking to be the Empire's most costly outing yet, an outing he felt he personally could have helped to turn in his comrades' favour.

'Good job you've still got your wits about you, lad. You'd be dead long before now without them.... Never - forget.'

'Untrue.... He was my wits until that moment. We'll discuss it when we make it back to Ravelin, Lord-General.', Marić shot back in conclusion to the matter, clearly of a similar mind with Barran in these moments, wishing not to burden their minds any more than they needed to be in their ascent towards the mountaintop. Not another word would be said between them for a while after that, except in giving each other quick and easy instructions to make immediate matters all the easier, and as the trail they found snaked on for what seemed like an age to the broken ones, these instructions would become more frequent to the point they had taken sole precedence in their climb to the nearest deserted settlement. From there, all would take a short break to stare out across the landscape, seeing what it had become since they landed on Tython's surface, though Barran's eyes were once more drawn to the Lonely Isle, still being covered in pretty, isolated snowfall - but the snowfall was spreading outwards.

Reaching the west and east banks of Lake Kaleth, and almost an hour after Lord Erskine's boat made landfall at the former, but Erskine was still looking beyond the cold, cleansing snowy stormfront to the island beyond it. His eyes, his heart and soul were being drawn back to that fateful grove in the middle, magnetised to the very aura such an environment was giving off in these moments. But it was then that a voice would ring out from within his mind, a voice unlike any other but that which he had heard before; the voice of the one who's parting words the old Woad was considering already, the voice of the Ashlan Saint, Eina L'lerim-Vandiir.


~=He was a speeder mechanic before the Maw captured and tortured him, a quiet, humble man. He fought for survival and then to finally die and be honoured by the Avatars, in the end, but for the last nearly ten years he had been fighting for the girl and moved further and further away from the Maw. He also denied religion, turned away from the Avatars. I'll give him the dagger over there, Lord General, I promise.=~

A good man, one who had every chance of living a humble, happy life, one who, despite all that he had become to protect the love of his life, was still earning much of Lord Erskine's admiration. Even in death, the more the old Woad learned, the more pride he felt in knowing, fighting and learning from such unadulterated warfighting purity. Whilst Asher was obsessed in his striving to become the Galaxy's greatest sword-duellist, and in many ways he was that and more, Erskine was obsessed in his striving to embody the spirit of the Mongrel as a warrior in his own right, though still in a dream very much contrasting the Mongrel's own to the last. Almost as if both warriors really were the opposite side of the same coin, like their contrasts alone represented both sides of the paradigm between Order and Chaos, but fate had chosen, and without a single thought for what either duellist wanted in the process.

Barran expected it would be his own life that would be forteit in the end, even readied his soul for it in the moments leading up to the duel's opening attacks, but the honorary dagger would be fated to be laid across the armour of the Mongrel instead. And despite the fact all the odds had been stacked against him, and despite the fact Asher's death meant exacting retribution for the many thousands he killed, the lucky feeling wasn't present to offer Lord Erskine any solace. Fortunately for the old Woad, some small solace would be offered on the matter of his own eventual parting from mortal existence, a Saint's ray of hope for something other than darkness in death, expectedly soon in his already-advanced years by that point. Small though the comfort was in those moments, however, Eina's words would be enough to boost his morale; even if only a little, it was enough for the Woad, enough to keep him strong for the next part of his career.


~=I'll be there, Lord General! I promise I'll be the one who accompanies you to the Netherworld..=~

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COMETS COLLIDE: ORDER VS. CHAOS - PART 27
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The Crook of Colrinal, Southern Kalesh Plains,
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876-ABY)
TLDR:
Lord Ollis initiates the attack
lines engage
Carwood comes to a relieving revelation - he would be safe no matter when the Hobilars attacked
THEME

'Make sure Carwood an' the lass make it through, Niall,"

Yeeeessss.... Its fething go-time! Finally!

'Ye'll lead the second troop. Peel right, A'll tak the others left.'

Two-troops, two prongs, two wedge-formations in tandem, easy to form from their current positions, though no-doubt putting them firmly in a position to hit even harder when the lines engaged. Something that neither Niall nor Lord Carwood expected, but a play that both appreciated all the same, especially in seeing the bloodlust creeping into his eyes as bloodshot fury in the making, so nothing would be getting in the old, hulking genius' way - nothing for as long as his beloved greatsword continued to tear through everything wishing to tear through Lord Ollis in turn.

'ALRIGHT, LADS!!!! WHO WANTS TAE LIVE FORAYE?!?!?!'

An old battlecry from the clan-wars era of Galidraan III's storied history, one such that always got any and all Woad's blood pumping, no matter the setting, no matter the game. And like the days of old, Lord Ollis had been smart in assuming it would prove every part as effective here also, given merit as soon as every voice behind them unleashed their roared, ululated wrath northwards in readiness, raising their power-lances overhead and slamming their boots against the chassis-plating on their heavy swoop-bikes as the noise grew louder and louder with every waking second. Pointing his sword forward and rolling into a hasty start, Ollis would roar an ungodly-deep bellow of his own as both formations continued to pick up speed, with Niall and Carwood following suit with battlecries of their own to add to the rising auditory onslaught, all made even more intense with the rising intensity of the bikes' repulsorlift engines.

Before long, all the speeders would be pushing into high-hear and gaining towards top speed, with the southern half of Temple Valley flying by them at increasingly high G-Force readings until the attacking Mawites' flank, and though the enemy knew they were coming, it became obvious to all the Hobilars in the front ranks none were equipped with the necessary means to hold off such an attack effectively. Knowing this sooner might have facilitated an earlier northward charge, and would have no doubt saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives in the wake of the revelation itself, but none would mince their words of reservation, not when the possibility of a clean break-through was right there for the Hobilars' taking. Even Niall could feel it, roaring,'AW'RIGHT, CARWOOD!!!! THIS IS IT, BR'ER!!!! THIS IS WHERE THE WOADS REIGN SUPREME!!!!', just before the first clunks and clangs of the line-engagement began.

The roaring, ululating and bellowed Tuathan-Carrack phrases found their second wind as that of the Mawites in their path was knocked out of their uphill attack on 4th Battalion's sallying attempt, culminating in an assault on the senses in the truest sense of the word. Tasting copper and iron in the air, smelling it wrestling in McGechin's nostrils with the smell of burning cloth, hair, flesh and repulsorlift fuel almost nauseating the old Woad in a way he never thought was possible for soldiers of his sort; feeling jolts in his bones and the force of gravity pushing against him horizontally, seeing and hearing every horror imaginable as he looked beneath him and to the Hobilars behind him. But in this, as his power-lance jolted and fried everything it clashed with, Lord Carwood understood that this would be how his ancestors may have felt when their swoops still had legs, hooves and lamellar barding, no different to the glories that McGechin was experiencing at the time.

*'DIA SAOR GU WOAD-MACUSHLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!'
**"GOD SAVE THE BLUE-HEARTS!!!!"

'DIA SAOR GALIDRAAN!!!!'
'DIA SAOR GALIDRAAN!!!!'
'DIA SAOR GALIDRAAN!!!!'
'DIA SAOR GALIDRAAN!!!!'


The savage voices of glory, shouting their love of the fight across the valley as their voices' reverberations bounced off all the surrounding mountains, giving strength to their arms as the Hobilars' two-pronged counterattack assailed all in their path, and in the realisation that none could answer in this pinnacle moment, McGechin smirked with gladness that they had every chance of breaking through and attacking whatever Mawite contingent was still holding the floodplains at the time. More than one enemy commander would feel the hurt of their own misfortune before long, and for as long as the Hobilars continued, the safety of the 313th could be assured long enough to escape the planet en masse. Salvation was needed in the battle's dying moments, and without it, the worst fate of all would befall the Empire's best and brightest warriors - a fate Lord Carwood was already fighting like a rabid dog to illude

The Woads had their way off the planet, so an escape would remain viable for them until the last second, but the Jedi weren't slacking off either, and thus the fate of Lord Ollis' mounted contingent would benefit from the Light Side of the Force as much as their Sabretooth comrades were already. And so, given free reign to go all out on everything in their way, Barran's contingent of Reivers were given no other purpose than to inflict as much damage as they could along the way, an easy request to offer a mob of angry Woads in conditions such as those they were dealing with at the time. After all, whenever the brutish Goidels graced the field, it was often best to stay out of the way until the smoke cleared; and though some were lucky enough to embrace such a full-on experience, (be it as infantry or tank-operators) many knew to warn of their destructiveness, especially with their frightening use of momentum considered.

'AAAAAVEEEEEEEE RUUUUUUURIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIK!!!!'
 
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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 Fortan Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Jas Katis Jas Katis Annor E-059
Saul Vandron Saul Vandron 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 TWENTY
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The Summit of Mt. Geran, Eastern Arros Range,
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autum of 876 ABY)


He stands so confidently, like he made his mind up hours ago.

Like he made his mind up as soon as we met in the Rowan Grove.

Awaiting the Darth's answer, the cold winds of winter swept up all around them, unleashing first flakes of snow on Mt. Geran as the survivors steadily began to stream in behind them; and though all among them looked ready to fight to the end, it was obvious to all that the Hâsk jiaasen had either served it's purpose, or worse, that the ritual had forsaken them for their indomitable fighting spirit. Seemingly spurning the power of their souls merely for their survivability under fire from the most effective bombardment of the battle, a bombardment so destructive that it dwarfed the violence of the indiscriminate tank and artillery fire from those on the Scar Hound's deep left flank. However, despite all the Dark Voice had rejected in the battle's last minutes, Thomas would be grateful for each and every Scar Hound who survived the orbital onslaught, seeking then to bring them all beyond their meagre standing in the tribe - despite the harsh hands they had been dealt in the run up to the first snowflakes of winter.

Finally breaking the serene, brotherly silence between them, the Ubese Darth eventually started,'Lord Bloodhound, I have come to a decision,', pausing accidentally in trailing off to see the gathering crowd of survivors behind the Bloodhound, though Barran understood when he briefly turned to see for himself. Then, turning back to the one-eyed Woad standing before him, Lord Superious finally responded,'I accept your offer.', which met with the ragged cheers of the other survivors, and the reverent bow of the new Warlord's head. The tribe was growing more powerful with every phase of the battle, creating momentum that would be unmatched elsewhere within the Brotherhood of the Maw, and with Darth Superious becoming the first of his kind to grace the conventional battlefield as a Scar Hound, it was already beginning to look like they would become quite the threat to opposing armies before long.

'Then on behalf of my Warlord, my Tribe and the Brotherhood of the Maw at large - I welcome you to the Scar Hounds tribe.... With us, you can conquer, with us, NO OTHER SITH WILL MATCH YOUR POWER!!!!'
 
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Location: The Summit of Mt. Geran, Eastern Arros Range, Northern Temple Valley, Tython
Objective: Rest and recover
Allies: BOTM/NSO, Thomas Barran Thomas Barran , Erion Justeene Erion Justeene , Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco
Enemies: NIO/Enclave/NJO

Over the course of his life as a fighting man, Ronar had seen and experienced nearly everything that one sentient being could do to another on the battlefield. He had seen soldiers cut to pieces with bayonets and swords, heads exploded by rifle shots and limbs blown away with grenades. He had seen bodies burned beyond recognition and entire squads wiped out by a crashing vehicle. And yet, even with all these experiences, there was still one thing he had never faced. One thing for which he was thoroughly unprepared.

Saturation artillery.

Ronar’s people never used massed artillery. Not only was it a logistical nightmare, especially in their far-flung corner of the galaxy, but the idea of an entrenched defensive position was anathema to their nature as fast, mobile raiders. When the screaming rounds began to descend, Ronar barely paid them any mind. The enemy, retreating from the kill zone, drew him like a moth to a flame, and he was prepared to charge, oblivious, right into their midst to continue his crusade of death and terror. Thankfully, his Wolves were far more versed in such tactics, and just as Ronar was about to launch himself into an all-out sprint, one of them grabbed him by the back of his armor.

Ronar was so surprised by the action that he didn’t even resist. His mind, so focused on the enemy ahead, struggled to register the friend behind that was now dragging him back into the trench line from which they had just emerged. Once they were into cover, as safe as could be possible in an artillery barrage, Ronar turned with eyes aflame to face the defender.

“Have you lost your mind, Wolf!” he screamed, “The enemy is that way!” Before the trooper could respond, the first round hit. The explosion blew over their position like a hurricane, showering the five warriors in dirt, mud, and viscera. Ronar’s cry of surprise was drowned out as another round fell, then another and another. In that moment, for the first time since touching down on Tython, Ronar felt true fear. Never before had he faced such firepower, not even in the great tribal wars he fought at his father’s side. The rounds continued to fall, one after the other, covering the battlefield in explosions and the screams of the dying.

They huddled there, the five of them, cowering in the mud as the enemy guns reached for them with fingers of fire and death. Ronar, futilely covering his ears with his armored gauntlets, looked into the eyes of his men. They were filled with fear; the fear of men at the mercy of fate, with no control over whether the next round would be the one to end their existence. He wondered if this was his time. After surviving the melee by skill and skill alone, was he to die at the hands of whatever deities or spirits pulled the strings of his life? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, another followed behind. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared. The fear melted away, and rage took its place.

As his stunned men looked on, Ronar climbed to his feet, then to the top of the trench. Bone armor covered in mud and gore, he faced the rounds that still fell like white-hot meteors all around him. Filling his lungs with the stained air of the battlefield, he screamed his challenge to the heavens. If he was to survive, so be it. If he was to die, so be it.

Either way, he would face his destiny, and show no fear.

For an eternity he stood there, as the guns of the enemy reduced the land around him to craters. He stood solid, like a statue, staring into the abyss, daring one of the projectiles to strike him and end this glorious day. Miraculously, when the barrage finally ceased, he was still standing. His fists were still clenched, his eyes were still turned heavenwards, his heart was still filled with rage. Now, however, and a new feeling was filling it. A feeling of triumph.

He turned to his Violet Wolves, these four men who, against all odds, still met his gaze. The fear was gone from their eyes, replaced with awe, wonder, and respect. He had won them this day, through his skill and courage. He knew now that they would never waver, no matter the challenges they faced. They were brothers now, brought together by bonds forged in fire and war. In silent agreement they each crossed an arm over their chest, beating the armor above their heart in salute of their leader, their captain, their warchief.

Nodding to his new brothers, Ronar turned back to the battlefield. The enemy had retreated, allowing the barrage to cover their movements. Ronar wanted to continue, wanted to take his paltry band back into the fray, but something stopped him.

Rule number nine, Ronar, said his father’s voice, There is bravery, and there is foolishness. A true alpha never lets himself forget the difference.

Instead, Ronar caught a glimpse of the man who had brought him to this miraculous point. By as much of a miracle as had just covered Ronar, the Bloodhound was still on his feet. Waving to his men, Ronar strode towards his unshakeable comrade. As he approached, he saw the man who had first greeted him when he touched down at the Rowan Grove. The two seemed to be in conference, and Ronar adjusted course to intercept them. They stopped, and Ronar caught the last of their spoken words.

“Lord Bloodhound, I have come to a decision,” said the newcomer, “I accept your offer.” The statement was met by the cheers of other survivors that had emerged to gather around the two commanders. Evidently, the Scar Hounds had gained more than Ronar today.

“Then on behalf of my Warlord, my Tribe and the Brotherhood of the Maw at large,” replied the Bloodhound, “I welcome you to the Scar Hounds tribe.... With us, you can conquer, with us, NO OTHER SITH WILL MATCH YOUR POWER!!!!”

As the Bloodhound finished, Ronar and his four Wolves finally reached the group. The assembled survivors, sensing the presence of the bone-armored warrior and his battle-hardened cadre, parted to let them through. With head held high, Ronar faced the Bloodhound. Again, he wondered if a monologue was necessary. They had just come through a tumultuous battle, surviving only by the skin of their teeth. What had begun as a bond of necessity was now a bond of survival, chains lashing together warriors who had been through hell side by side and made it to the other side. In the end, Ronar decided that he really didn’t have much to say. The adrenaline was fading now, if even slightly, and the beast was retreating back into its cave, ready to be unleashed at the next opportunity. For now, Ronar simply stood, heart filled with pride.

“The Violet Wolves,” he said simply, “Are at your service.”
 
In Umbris Potestas Est
And who is that? The question came from Onrai, unsure as to whether or not she had been dealing with some sort of ethereal being trapped within the fleshy shell of a Mandalorian this entire time. The darkness pressed against the light even as smoke was forcibly vented from cracks within the shell. Her continued pressing upon Runi had resulted in part of the cocoon crumbling, the area below her knees opening up to allow the buildup of pressure to vent out from within the cocoon and maintain whatever structural integrity she could.

Know that this resolution will not be without a cost. She said, as a lance of yorik coral sought to penetrate through the gap at the shoulder of Runi's ailing arm, the corrupted biomass seeking to claim a sliver of flesh from this confrontation even if it was not able to truly subdue her,

Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida
 

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