Populate [SO Populate of Empty Hex] Survival of Ozzuk Thren

[Itzhal Volkihar]

With a single shot of his rifle, the momentum of the battle shifted entirely in the Mandalorian's favour as the elder Sith was launched across the field, his body skipping across the tarmac like a stone across water and leaving a trail of blood behind in the process. At the same time, the other adversary, younger and less experienced though certainly enthusiastic, was pushed further back.

Until, with a display of aggression that bordered on foolishness, he attempted to counterattack. As the academy student launched himself into the air, his arms stretched out with intent to wrap around Domina's throat before a single stun round from Itzhal's sidearm brought him low. Unresponsive legs, unable to hold him up as Gavin Vel landed, his knife skittering away with what should have been a sense of finality.

However, naas cu'vurel ru'gycir akkan kyr'yc nynir.

Unwilling to drag out what should have been a simple kill if not for Domina's strange mixture of pride and honour, Itzhal turned his pistol towards Gavin Vel, their prone form stretching towards a knife they shouldn't have been allowed to reach. There were rules of honour to be found in duels that should not be mistaken for the tenants of battle; a quick death was honourable enough.

Without a further thought for the life he intended to end, Itzhal lined up the shot, the barrel aligned with the academy student's head. An afterimage formed in the corner of the Mandalorian's vision as a man appeared. His skin was torn to shreds and worn around the edges of previous wounds long scarred over, the almost leather look of burnt and roasted flesh scrawled across his forehead and the remnants of a scorched upper earlobe.

There was no time to dodge. Conjuring jetii'dralin a display of power that augmented his limbs and turned a human body into something more, Diarch slammed into Itzhal with little warning as the Mandalorian turned away from the blow, flowing with the strike that cracked his chest-plate, rather than crushing the vulnerable organs beneath as he flew through the air, his back slamming against and then through the ruined remains of a blast door.

As years of training on how to handle a fall kicked in, the Mandalorian rolled with his momentum, hurtling along the corridor until he came to a painful stop over the crushed remains of an old security terminal. His right hand reached out to steady himself as the other reached down for the rifle at his side, the sling keeping it attached, even as he noticed the sudden lack of a sidearm—somewhere in the messy collision, he must have dropped it.

His upper ribs ached as he forced himself to stand. One finger trailed along the slight fracture that had formed in the armour, barely visible underneath the veil of dust and dirt that clung to his black armour—another weakness for the mortal man to deal with as he stepped forward. The display on his HuD revealed a quick diagnostic of his injuries, the skin bruised and wounded, though still combat-effective as nothing internal was reported for the moment. However, Itzhal doubted the efficiency of the Imperial model. He'd double-check once the fight was over.

Outside, the battle between Diarch and Domina blared its presence across the ruined architecture. Metal clashed against a counterpart of equal threat, and two figures did their best to tear into each other. As the sequence of blades turned into the howl of pained laughter, ecstatic to face a foe from one that would dare wound them.

Even then, however, they were not the only ones as blaster fire tore through the city, and the screams of less skilful or even just less fortunate individuals were carried along the wind. Aware of the battle outside and how quickly it could change for the worse, Itzhal pressed onwards, sacrificing any opportunity for stealth in favour of sheer speed as he looked down the corridor and saw the door he'd come through, the metal having collapsed inwards, and preventing him from walking out.

Compared to the full weight of a charging Mandalorian, the side door to the stairwell was barely a roadblock, shattering under the force of his kick to the hinges after a hastily applied bolt weakened the lock. Thunderous steps echoed in the enclosed space as they followed his progress upward until he reached the next floor; another shot, another kick to clear the way.

The distorted glass ahead tilted his view of the battlefield as Domina swayed and skittered around the defensive bulwark that was Diarch Rellik. Every inch of his attention turned to the threat as he attempted to avoid being crushed like a bug. Just as she pushed the offensive, her limbs a whirlwind of aggression that would have already torn through a lesser man.

Neither of them was genuinely aware of the Sith Acolyte, previously reduced to a vulnerable soul, edges away from death; his efforts came to part as Gavin Vel stood despite the injuries he had sustained. Valiant and resolute, a warrior without even the concept of surrender.

Naturally, Itzhal smashed the glass window of the first-floor building with a blaster bolt aimed for his head. The volley that followed behind was tilted downwards as they tried to clip the acolyte's legs, aware that both forms of Jetii were gifted with foresight, as those that missed turned the ground beneath him to slag, shooting up shards of boiling cement that added another level of difficulty. If he'd had his wrist launcher, he would have fired a missile, to be sure. Unfortunately, the organisers had not been so kind, nor did he have such equipment at hand.

Instead, he had to rely upon good old-fashioned skills and decades of experience.

Tag: Diarch Rellik Gavin Vel Domina Prime​

 

[Lady Falentra]

Barely a minute, then almost two, quite impressive for a human, she’d think. She felt the light thumping dwindle, her pulse faltering and the thrashes weakening. Falentra was just about to let go, when she felt herself surrounded by the force, a heavy pressure gripping onto her form. Then she felt herself lifted upwards, her feet no longer within the coolness of water.

It came such a surprise. She had even so focused on the girl that she didn’t realise the descent of the Sith Lord. Now alarmed, she had subconsciously dropped the force cloak, all eight of the burgundy cephalopod-like tentacles now in full display. This being was a freak of nature. While her tentacles still remained restraining around the girl’s neck and arms, her head was no longer submerged.

In front of her stood the man. There was many questions she had, but there was never time for hesitation, the situation was precarious, just a moment and she could be crushed. Falentra would unleash her defense, a force burst from her form to shake the hold off her.

@dairch reign

 

[Karala Midwan]

Following the path through this prision, she came back to the surface, and saw a house. It certainly was not the strangest thing in this arena, so far the skyscrapers dipping down like teeth commanded the most attention. This solitary home drew her attention, she could hear the whispers, the voice of Bogan calling her towards it. She was careful with her steps, seeing that in some places there was middle size craters, as if mines had been placed and gone off. Coming to the estate, she reaching with her hand commanded the door knob to turn without touching, her soft ruby fingers with black finger nails poised when the door opened and she took her knife in her left hand, ready to strike. Her Father had taught her to hone her senses, to treat all environments as potential for peril. This hyper vigiliance had saved her life in the Purge of Korriban by The New Republic. When those supposed Peace Keepers came and slaughtered her already perishing people.

The floor of wood creaking as she took a step, she was not heavy weight, alas this structure was old and dilapidated. She took another step, following the the flow of The Force that for some reason had brought her to this place. She had sensed many in the arena, and bypassed them. The sound of clashes shook areas when she was poised on that great falling tower. The Dark Lords were already driven to that most primal side of the Dark, violence. Another lesson her Father taught was to pick your battles. It was the very reason she had been placed in stasis for nine centuries, to keep an heir to Midwan alive. It was a great sacrifice as she slept away the years, and now she had awoken to a galaxy no more different than the one she had bid good night to. Her people were scattered amongst the stars, and her great hope was to be reunited with them. For the Pure Blood of the Sith called to one another, it was something the dark lords did not understand. They had appeared as savages long ago during the 'Golden Age', when in truth her people had natural connection to the darkness, that did not need all the props and technology.

Rounding a hall she came to foyer and felt something, what was her Third Eye trying to tell her? What was so important here in this seemingly fine house that required her to return to the surface. Her eyes of flame looking around, her senses picking up a trace, she walking over to a mantel saw something sitting upon it. It was a clock, and in it a great ruby eye, was it a coin? Was this why she had been called her to collect one of those? If so she was going to be sorely disappointed.

TAG: Aiwaz Khath

 

[Elim Thorne]

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Orinackra
Trial of Ozzuk Thren
Obelisk of Ozzuk
Viewing Chamber and Control Room
Tags: Lao-ta | Elmindra Xitaar | Ufsa'ynth'aris | Darth Caedes | Madrona A’Mia
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Thorne resisted the urge to press his fingers against the prosthetics on his cheek as he rode the turbolift up to the top of the Obelisk. There were surely security cameras and personnel behind them scrutinizing every guest who made their way to this event.

He'd done a decent job with his alias on this one. Decent in a way that had only been possible because of the enormous sum that Lao-ta had paid him for the Korriban gig. The disguise was high-quality, the necessary bribes were thorough and well-placed. It had gotten him in the door. He hoped it would be enough. It didn't need to last long... just long enough to make the introduction between his Jedi employer and the Sith King of Korriban. Once she got her meeting with Caedes, he could disappear, wash his hands of the whole deal.

At least, that's what he was telling himself.

The lift doors opened and he hiked his pack a little further onto his shoulder, then stumped his way into the chamber. He scanned the room and its occupants briefly before making his way to an unoccupied table against the wall.

The movement made his eyes itch. The lenses he was wearing were built to slightly distort the natural shape of his eyes, making them slightly larger than normal and toning his normally brown irises a cool, light grey. The left side of his face drooped, the skin beneath his eye hanging in folds like a Sullustran, a slightly grotesque souvenir of some battle long past. The eye on that side was bloodshot, the bottom of it also gaping slightly open. The other changes to his face were more subtle: A broader brow, wider nose, fuller cheeks and face. Stringy white hair hung limply over his ears, the majority of it pulled back in an elaborate braid that hung between his shoulders. His skin was pale, his posture rounded and a little crooked, and his clothing, while new and clean, was slightly out of fashion and a little too tight over his somewhat bulkier frame. A silver pin gleamed on his right chest.

He kept one arm draped over the pack next to him as he sat, peering around the room. No sign of Caedes. Was that right? He tapped one thumb on the table, wishing he could fiddle with his Sabbac deck. But that was an affectation of Elim Thorne, not of Modran Grellik, first lieutenant of the Ringo Mercenary Crew.

Well. No sense being impatient. He pulled a battered silver flask from his jacket and took a swig, settling back in his seat to wait. There was certainly plenty of entertainment in the meantime, both in the room's other occupants and the spectacle being broadcast on several enormous screens. He was torn between taking note of the political machinations on display before him and trying to find Lao-ta in the sea of contestants in the holo-vid. He settled on the latter... no need to tempt attention from the others here by seeming overly interested in them.

He was in over his head on this one, but he'd known that when he'd agreed to it. Hells, when he'd suggested parts of it. The thing was, he had a feeling about this job, and long experience had taught him to go along with this particular kind of feeling and see where it led. Fighting it usually either didn't work or just made things messier. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the pack beside him. The artifact within lay waiting, patient in its case.

Soon, he thought. Caedes would be here soon.

 

[Tova Rachi]

Her attention was brought to bear on another battle that was going on. A young woman that looked in particular trouble. Reign seemed very focused on this battle, focused enough for it to motivate him to move onto the battlefield. Tova gasped as she witnessed the speed with which he acted. She had to admit that he attention was stolen by his entrance into the battle.

Tova stepped forward with hand outstretched, as if willing to aide in the Diarch's defence of the young girl. She could not affect the battle form here, so withdrew he hand to her mouth as she covered her gasps again.

The Nabooian woman then went back to the battle in which the other Diarch participated. Some involved were nearly beaten to a pulp. The sheer carnal violence of it all churned her stomach, though it did not show on her face.

Living among the Sith was always going to be something very different to what she had known growing up on an idyllic world such as Naboo, but the display today had given her pause. Was she capable of a life lived in these surrounds? What would it do to her spirit? How would it change her? Would the proximity to the dark siders, and her distance from the light siders, actually alter her own standing on the spectrum of Force alignment? Quite likely. But she had been trained for that eventuality too.

For now, she would just watch and wait.

TAG: OPEN
In proximity to: Taeli Raaf Darth Caedes Ufsa'ynth'aris Madrona A’Mia Zal Aditi Darth Callidus Thaelius Credius Nargath Karala Midwan
Watching: Diarch Reign Lady Nightmare Lady Falentra Gavin Vel Itzhal Volkihar Domina Prime Diarch Rellik

 

[Kivah]

Tags: Maiza Vex Naamino Zuukamano Micah tol Powl Leshanna Haro Aven
Outfit: Link
Theme: Playground

A smile broke Kivah's determined face as the Tuk'ata ambushed the boys before ambling over to give the only one of them from the Tuk'ata's house a welcoming lick as well. The huge beast liked Kivah's stash of pot and had cleaned her out more than once. Naturally the two had talked while passing the vaporizor. Well, passing hits, Kivah always had to hold it and press the button. Aparently Myunnah had onced trained another sith by stalking her and considered it a good part of their training. If your senses were sharp enough to detect her and not get jumped at random times, you weren't easy to jump in a surprise attack. It made sense in a simple sort of way.

The quiet girl, Leshanna, had joined them. Which Kivah was glad to see. She'd felt a little poorly about her behavior towards her after the academy race, taking her own frustration at having her time upstaged out on the girl that did it. It had also been to toughen her up and show her the realities and dangers of their path. Or so she told herself. Not a personal failing, but to open the Human's eyes so she could accept the future death of those around her. Instead of dwelling on her own period of growing pains, Kivah turned her thoughts to wondering if Leshanna joing them meant she was forgiven.

"Obsidian," she revealed after Micah did his. Had to show trust to get trust. Also this was probably one of the few times she really wasn't concerned about betrayal. He'd also offered her his dagger, and while tempting, she had turned it down. She had eyes on another weapon she spotted protruding from a chunk of fallen duracrete among the ruins now that they were in among some of the smaller buildings.

Kicking at it with her heel, Kivah managed to break off some of the larger hunks before picking up the piece to slam down, shattering the remainder to free her prize. Picking it up, she had a little over a meter of heavy, mostly straight, rebar that had once been reinforcement for a wall or ledge that had crumbled years ago. Giving it a few practice swings, she nodded. Far from the lightsabers she was learning how to use, but it'd do until they found something better. Now to do something involving leadership.

"Alright Naamino. You navigate us to a cache or two, and then we'll pick out a camp for the night. Everyone else is on the lookout for Sithspawn. If we're lucky, we can pick up a few coins before it gets dark." From her tone of anticipation, it was easy for the others to tell that this was what she was most looking forward to. That these strange monsters of war and death were something she was looking forward to testing herself against. The rest of it was just another hunting trip to her, a strange blend of the urban and wilderness environments she'd grown used to stalking.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Lucette //: OPEN //:

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Viers lingered, the thought of pressing her lips to the girl's cheek like Lucy had done to her once before. Despite the unnerved courage she had just had facing death, affection crippled the Corellian. Viers decided against it and took off. She knew she shouldn't blindly run into the unknown, but feeling the world's vibrations under her feet gave her slight hints of what was coming. Viers stepped onto a small concrete slab and used it to launch herself over the edge where the flooring had given out, leading deeper into the ruins. The wind whipped against the mask until she rolled so her face could look up and see when Lucy would go over the edge.

It was then she heard the small yelp, and the girl fell.

Panic. A feeling Viers never truly understood and why she was feeling it. The armored mask was quickly ripped off her face, along with the silken hood that came with it. Despite the protection, it was now a hindrance. Viers pushed the Force under her, once more glowing like she typically did - this time, with the panic, it was brighter, only shimmering in and out of the Force Cloak. Stopping almost mid-fall, Viers watched as Lucy caught herself with the Force, and a small smile tugged at her lips. The girl was just as capable as the Corellian. It only added to the Princess' charm.

Viers floated down and landed on her feet, still hidden as she turned away from Lucy, who seemed to be in control of her situation. Moving deeper into the shadows of the ruins, Viers once more reached out through the Force. She searched for the light hum of electromagnetic waves. Unlike the other Monks, she didn't feel the Force through living organisms. Instead, she felt the life of the Force through machines by their gentle hums and waves. Once again, she sensed no interference from any object small enough to be a coin. She pulled her hand back, frowning. They would have to go deeper into the ruins.

Vibrations rippled through the Force and the ground. Viers quickly recognized it, similar to the creature that had tried to eat her before. Staff drawn, she began to return to where Lucy was. A bit settled in her stomach as she didn't hear any shouts for her or any indication that Lucy had been attacked. If the beast was like the one from before, then Lucy might have been caught by surprise. Viers chewed on her lower lip as she crept quietly through the shadowed ruins until she saw a sight she never thought she'd see.

Standing there was a creature similar to the one that tried to eat her, and instead of being a ravenous beast, she was getting pets and gentle words from the princess.

In her travels, Viers had heard of people being able to tame beasts and sithspawn alike. They could connect to the creature on another level by way of the Force. Knowing that Lucy might be one of those people piqued Viers' interest. As she crouched in the dark, she daydreamed about all the animals Lucy must sing to at the big house. She truly was a fairytale princess.

Caught once more, Viers stared at the beast and then back at Lucy, who called out in her direction. She collected her jaw from the floor and walked out of the shadows, flickering back into view from her Force Cloak. Hands up, she smiled, now covered in blood and dirt from crawling around the runs. "It's just me," Viers reassured her companion. Stopping a small distance away, she reached behind her into the small of her back where a water pack was stored. "I didn't find anything back there; you seemed to have made a new friend? Here, I thought I was the only tameable creature here." Viers chuckled, somewhat proud of her quip. Opening the bottle, she poured some water onto her hands and cleaned them up slightly before using her wet hands to wash up her face.

Whatever the creature she fought before had in its blood started irritating her skin. Better to wash it off before it does any actual damage. Her hands weren't enough, so she poured a bit more of the water from the flask onto her face and dried it off with the decorative collar of the Jutrand uniform. Feeling refreshed, she stored the pack away and slowly moved towards Lucy and the beast. Looking up at it, she didn't like the way it was now looking at her. "I don't taste good, I swear." Viers shook her head and looked at Lucy, "It won't eat us, right?" She stayed a few steps away and breathed hard once through her nose, huffing in a small attempt to assert dominance…or something.

"How did you even get it to like you? Or is it buying its time before making us dinner?"

 

[Thel Kaan]

"Wait," Thel began, his voice laced with anger and disgust. "So this is some sort of contest? A game?" He spat the words as if they were poison. His mind raced to piece together the situation. This had to be connected to the botched arms deal—set up by whoever had orchestrated it. But who could be so twisted as to create an event centered on slaughter? Only one group came to mind, the answer blazing through his thoughts like a wildfire: The Sith Order.

Focusing again on the young woman before him, Thel felt a flicker of empathy. She was barely more than a kid, trapped in the same nightmare he was, alone and under constant threat. Still, she clearly knew more about this "game" than he did, and that raised suspicions. Could she be more involved than she let on? Thel's mistrust, ever-present, refused to let him lower his guard entirely. The blaster remained steady in his hand.

"Look," he said, his tone softening but still cautious, "I don't want to kill someone just for the sake of killing. But if what you're saying is true, and we'll need to face others soon, it might be easier if we form some sort of alliance."

To reinforce the sincerity of his offer, Thel adjusted his stance and lowered the blaster slightly, no longer aiming directly at her. "At least for the time being. What do you say?"

Before she could respond, Thel tucked the hatchet into his belt and dug into his pocket, retrieving the obsidian coin. He held it up between his fingers, its untarnished black surface catching the dim light.

"One more thing," he said, flipping the coin once for emphasis, "what does this have to do with the competition?" He let the question hang in the air, his piercing gaze fixed on her reaction.

Tags: Lyssara Thrynn OPEN​

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[Zal Aditi]

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Orinackra
Ruins of Ozzek Thren
Lightsaber Cache

Tags: Darth Caedes | Madrona A’Mia | Lao-ta

Deep in the shadows, Zal sat in meditation, awaiting the arrival of her prey.

The games had just begun. One by one, ambitious challengers were being dropped in the arena, eager to claim glory on this day. She could hear distant sounds: rubble falling, a snatch of song. Coins and caches being claimed one by one.

She carried no coin. She was not here to prove herself before the galaxy. She was here only to prove herself in the eyes of one man: Darth Caedes , her master, and King of her mother-planet Korriban. Her master, who, despite all she had accomplished, still demanded more before she be deemed worthy of the title of Sith Knight.

This additional test irked her, and yet she understood it as a fulfillment of his role in their relationship. It was his place to push her, as it was her place to rise to the challenge. She was not one-dimensional, did not place her full strength in her alchemical prowess alone, and so while this final test annoyed her, it would not slow her down. She would prove her skills with the blade against the opponent her Master set before her.

Above the door to the fortified building she waited, relaxed but ready. The cache in the room below her sat gleaming in a shaft of light from above, apparently unguarded. Though the other caches were being discovered, hers was not marked on any holomap, and was not currently accessible. When a fitting challenger made themselves known, Caedes and the engineers in the Obelisk would channel that challenger to her. It would likely be days before a fierce enough competitor was selected.

She stretched out her thoughts to the skittering minds around hers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the happenings around her, but these sithspawn were not of her make, and it was more difficult to impress her mind upon theirs. She could have done it, of course, but not without tiring herself, and this was no time to waste resources on something so unnecessary.

Her dual blades rested on her lap, clasped lightly in each hand. The cool, smooth metal seemed to anticipate the coming conflict, held an eagerness to it. She was eager, too; and frustrated, insulted by this test, even as she accepted it; and hurt, at the lack of recognition for her greatest accomplishment, her great beast in the stars. She sat with these emotions, stoked her passions and laid them before her beside her lightsabers as weapons for the battle ahead. Eagerness grew to hunger; frustration grew to rage; hurt pride grew to righteousness. And ambition wove through them all.​

Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.

Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.

Deep in the shadows, Zal sat in meditation, awaiting the arrival of her prey.

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[Kaivaan Raaf]

Taeli Raaf [Mentions] | Open to Interaction​

Kaivaan leaned against the jagged stone wall of the decrepit metro station, his body trembling with exhaustion and pain. His wounds throbbed, each breath sending sharp jolts through his ribs. The taste of ash and blood lingered in his mouth, and for a moment, he allowed himself to slide down the wall, collapsing onto the cold, dust-covered floor.

The echoes of his battle with the Sithspawn reverberated in his mind. It had taken everything he had to defeat it, and still, he had barely survived. His hands, still trembling, tightened into fists. Was this what being the Heir to House Raaf meant? Scraping through the Trials by the skin of his teeth, bloodied and beaten?

The thought gnawed at him. He hadn't been strong enough to fight off Darth Strosius when he and his siblings had been taken. He hadn't been clever enough to escape on his own. Instead, he had waited, helpless, until someone else came to free them. How could he call himself an heir, let alone the rightful one?

The shadows around him seemed to deepen as the weight of his failures settled over him. He could hear them now—whispers, low and insidious, curling around his thoughts like smoke. He struggled to his feet, everything burned, and as the boy tried to come to his senses. He heard voices, whispers, and as he looked around there was nothing. He stumbled down a set of stairs falling onto his wounded shoulder.

"Weak… unworthy… pretender…"

His breath coming in ragged gasps as the shadows pressed closer, their whispers turning into guttural snarls. The air was thick with malevolence, every step forward pulling him deeper into the abyss. In the center of the room lay the pool—a circle of black, viscous water that pulsed with a life of its own. Surrounding it, carvings of ravens adorned the walls, their crimson-stone eyes gleaming with an unnatural, watchful light.

The whispers turned mocking, taunting him with every failure, every moment of helplessness.

"You are no heir. Just a broken child playing at power."

Kaivaan clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he fought against the wave of despair threatening to drown him. He staggered closer to the pool, his reflection rippling on its surface. The face staring back wasn't his. It was older, sharper, its eyes glowing a molten sulfur, burning with an unrelenting intensity that suffocated more than inspired.

The whispers grew louder, merging into a singular voice—deep and resonant, filled with the venom of the dark side.

"You are no heir. You couldn't even protect them. What makes you think you are worthy of this name? Of this legacy?"

The words struck deep, feeding the storm of doubt swirling in his mind. He staggered to his feet, clutching his dagger like a lifeline as he glared into the shifting darkness. "Shut up," he growled, though his voice wavered.

The shadows didn't relent. They grew taller, more imposing, their whispers transforming into a low, mocking laughter. He took a step back, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

"Look at you. Weak, afraid. Clinging to a name that means nothing in your hands. You couldn't save them then, and you won't save yourself now."

Kaivaan shouted, his voice echoing through the cavernous space. "I will prove myself. I am Kaivaan Balthasar Raaf. The Heir!"

His defiance was met with silence. The shadows receded slightly, their shapes melting back into the walls and crevices, but their presence lingered. The silence pressed against him, suffocating, as he stumbled forward into toward the ominous black pool that taunted him, tormented him. His face pale, his hair slick with sweat, the cold fever set in as infection began to claim him. Another step forward the and the pool disappeared. He squeezed his eyes shut, he was seeing this - this was all in his head, wasn't it?

The air grew colder as he descended into the ruins twisting into a chaotic maze of collapsed tunnels and crumbling architecture. The whispers returned, quieter now but ever-present, like a dark chorus singing his failures. As he moved, the faint glimmer of glowing eyes—small, like those of birds—flashed in the corners of his vision. He paused, turning toward the movement, but saw nothing but darkness.

Pain tore through him, searing his nerves as the dark side invaded his mind and body. Memories—not his own—flooded his consciousness. He saw battles waged in the shadows, figures cloaked in darkness wielding power that shook the stars. He felt the weight of decisions made for survival and dominance, the cost of every victory carved into his soul. His mind screamed in protest, but the memories kept coming, drowning him in a torrent of blood, power, and despair.

Kaivaan's knees buckled as the water surged around him, rising to his throat. The dark side clung to him, squeezing the breath from his lungs. He gasped, clawing at the invisible hands tightening around his neck.

"You failed them," the voice hissed, cruel and unrelenting. "You weren't strong enough to stop Strosius. You weren't strong enough to save your siblings. And here you are again—weak, broken, unworthy."

"No!" Kaivaan choked out, his voice barely audible. His vision blurred, his greatest fears and darkest doubts threatened to consume him. Shadows tightened their grip, but Kaivaan fought back. "I am Kaivaan Bal- Fort- Raaf." The boy struggled as the pool pulled him further beneath its abyssal void. His mind surged with rage and resolve, his breath returning in short, desperate gulps, as he tried to pull himself to the surface. You are nothing, the shadows whispered. You are nothing.

But then, through the chaos, a memory emerged. A steady voice, calm and resolute—Taeli Raaf's voice. "The dark side will not simply test you, Kaivaan. It will seek to break you. You must remember who you are. You must take what is yours and claim your place. Not through fear of it, but through mastery of it."

The words ignited something deep within him, a defiance buried under layers of doubt. The shadows tightened their grip, but Kaivaan fought back, his mind surging with rage and resolve. His lungs burned, he couldn't breathe, he was suffocating, his hands the tips of his fingers scarcely visible from the black pool that threatened to take him. He was scared, he was angry, and he refused perish. DIE, PRETENDER. The shadows, the doubts, the fear wanted him him to give up, but he in his defiance refused.

The pool erupted, its black surface boiling as the dark side recoiled from his defiance. Kaivaan's eyes burned, shifting from their usual amethyst to a molten sulfur, not yet red but glowing with the raw power surging through him. As he proclaimed, "I am the heir."

The ravens in the carvings seemed to come alive, their eyes flaring with crimson light as the shadows around him coalesced into one final form—a towering figure of darkness, its shape indistinct but its presence suffocating.

The figure loomed over him, its voice resonating like thunder. "Then prove it. Take what is yours, Corvus."

The name struck him like a hammer, foreign yet familiar. As he rose from the pool, his body trembling but his gaze unwavering. The water dripped from him like black ichor, staining the ground as he stepped free of its grasp. His breathing slowed, his wounds throbbed with dull pain, but the echoes of the dark side faded, leaving only silence and the faint rustle of unseen wings.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit:
Well Worn Boots, Model 6 modular backpack (currently empty), military fatigues
Tags: Haro Aven
Linked in text, Open

​

The zabrak noted the pointed absence of Maiza Vex and that their little crew had garnered a few other Kor'ethyr students who seemed to think Kivah was a solid team lead choice like the rest of them had. It wasn't so much that they had hangers on, more that it was clear some of the less confident kids were pursuing safety in numbers for the start of the event and traveling closeby. But he felt certain enough about their core companions and that was good enough for him.

Naami had only enough time to nod at Micah and respond, "Obsidian for me," before he was overrun by a warbeast's affection.

"ACK! H-hey!" he protested, laughing a bit at both the playful pounce from Myunnah and the weird tickle of being affectionately mauled.

"Oi! Myu, easy on the kit- this is broadcast all over the galaxy y'know and you don't want his hair messed up day one do you?" He teased affectionately, not aware that Micah tol Powl had particularly overactive vanity but still wanting to spare him the worst of warbeast hairdo.

He ran moon-blue fabric wrapped hands carefully up over his horned scalp to wipe away some slobber and pulled up the hood of his overcloak to guard better against windchill- or any more bursts of canine affection for that matter. The dimpled smile faded just as quickly as it had arrived, his brow scrunched in a focused look as Kivah re-centered them on mission.

"Alright Naamino. You navigate us to a cache or two, and then we'll pick out a camp for the night. Everyone else is on the lookout for Sithspawn. If we're lucky, we can pick up a few coins before it gets dark."

"Right," he gave a curt nod and the holomap was pulled up without further adieu.

Soon their group was making its way between brutalist columns that surely once supported an impressive building but was now in ruin. Naami called for a halt as he spotted a choke-point that could prove dangerous if wandered into without forethought. They'd had their heads on swivels and he trusted both cathar, plus Myunnah's combined senses but things were a little more hazardous for he and Leshanna .

"Markers show a cache nearby, likely nestled up there somewhere," he nodded toward a more intact section of building, "We're a big enough party, but most of us aren't equipped yet. I'm thinking our stealthiest few slip in and us bruisers can be backup."

In truth he was eager to raid a cache, hyped beyond belief at the thought of finding a solid weapon rather than some dinky dagger. Pretty much any vibroweaponry would do, a force pike would be peak but he'd settle for less. He'd have to if he was going to make the most out of this challenge and perhaps even impress Diarch Reign . Camera droids had seemed scarce while they traveled but he knew they were around and was sure they'd swarm to any major action.

 

[Kyorra Pavanos]

Kaalia Pavanos [Makin' Grandma Proud] | Open to Interaction​

Kyorra descended the cracked staircase, boots stomping louder than they needed to, her dagger swinging lazily in her hand as if daring something to jump out at her. The air grew heavier, thick with the promise of danger, but she refused to let it show. Let the dark side try to unnerve her. She'd faced worse than whispers and creepy vibes.

Her holomap flickered weakly in her pocket, and she snorted. "Yeah, sure, super helpful," she muttered, flicking it off. The shadows along the stone walls seemed to dance at her defiance, curling closer like they'd take offense. "You gonna jump out and bite me, too? Get in line."

The passage ended in a cavernous chamber. At the far end, a jagged stone door loomed, its surface alive with pulsating runes that seemed to mock her. Above it, etched in ancient Sith script, was a single question: "Who are you?"

"Oh, that's rich," Kyorra quipped, stepping into the room. "Is this where you lecture me about self-discovery? 'Cause I don't have the time." But the words weren't just on the door—they pressed into her mind, heavy and intrusive, like a stranger forcing their way into her thoughts.

She froze, her breath hitching despite herself. The question wasn't just rhetorical; it was alive, a demand as much as a taunt.

Before she could gather her thoughts, the chamber shifted. The shadows pulled together at the edges of the room, forming hulking, twisted shapes. Four Sithspawn stepped into the dim light, grotesque and snarling, their glowing red eyes fixed on her.

"Oh, good. Icebreakers," she said with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her knuckles tightened around the dagger.

The oppressive presence grew heavier, the darkness whispering to her. You seek a legacy, but do you carry your own identity, or merely the weight of your bloodline?

Kyorra rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the chill that slithered down her spine. "Yeah, yeah, cryptic Sith nonsense. Could we skip to the part where I kick your—"

A serpent-like Sithspawn lunged. She swore under her breath, throwing herself backward and slamming into the ground. Her free hand shot forward, summoning a gust of wind that sent the creature skidding across the slick floor. She scrambled to her feet, chest heaving.

The others closed in, their growls vibrating through her bones.

The words etched above the door loomed larger in her mind: Who are you?

"I'm Kyorra freakin' Pavanos, that's who!" she snapped, slashing her dagger in a wide arc to keep the Sithspawn at bay. But even as the words left her lips, a flicker of doubt coiled in her chest. Was that enough?

The largest creature—a towering monstrosity with jagged horns and a snarl that could split stone—charged.

Kyorra gritted her teeth. She crouched low and slammed her palm to the ground, calling on her grandmother's teachings. The floor cracked, jagged shards of earth erupting to meet the creature's charge. It staggered, but not for long.

Diving to the side, Kyorra rolled to her feet, her frustration bubbling over. "Is this all you've got?!" she yelled, her voice cracking with the effort. "A couple of growling mutts and a philosophical crisis? Try harder!"

The creature roared, its glowing eyes boring into her. Claim yourself, or be consumed.

Her hands trembled, but she refused to give ground. "You think I don't know who I am?" she shouted, her voice defiant. She dropped the dagger and raised her hands, summoning the Force. Water pooled from the floor, twisting into icy spears that hovered around her like jagged teeth. With a sharp motion, she sent them hurtling toward the Sithspawn, impaling two of them.

The largest beast advanced, stepping through the blood and ice as if it were nothing.

Kyorra's breaths came fast and shallow. "Fine. You want me to answer your stupid question?" She stepped forward, hazel eyes locked on the creature. "I'm not just their legacy. I'm not just their shadow. I'm Kyorra Hurrem Pavanos, and I don't need anyone to tell me what that means!"

The beast lunged, its claws slicing the air. Kyorra didn't flinch. She drew on the fire within her, letting the Force explode out of her in a wave of searing heat. The flames engulfed the creature, its roars echoing through the chamber before fading into silence.

The darkness retreated. The oppressive weight lifted. The runes on the door shifted, forming new words: "You may pass."

Kyorra stood in the stillness, catching her breath. She picked up the dagger and wiped her brow, a grin tugging at her lips despite herself. "That's what I thought."

The door creaked open, revealing the path ahead. Without a second glance, she strode forward, the question lingering in her mind. She didn't have all the answers yet, but she had time to figure it out—on her terms.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Tags: Diarch Rellik Itzhal Volkihar Domina Prime

Gavin couldn’t believe his ears as he dragged himself upright, his battered body screaming in protest. The words from the tailed Mandalorian echoed in his head. Sweet champion? Little god? For a fleeting moment, he thought it might have been praise. His dazed ego almost clung to it, but clarity came crashing in as he realized the mocking tone.

The rage was instant. It burned through his veins, the fire of humiliation and frustration stoking the inferno within. Gavin’s fists clenched tightly as he glanced around the battlefield. Two Mandalorians, a Sith Lord, and then there was him—just Gavin. The street rat from Nar Shaddaa who had spent most of this fight eating dirt. He had fought valiantly, sure, but the cold reality was unavoidable: he was outclassed.

His bruised ego fought back against the truth. He refused to be the pawn on this battlefield. If he was going to go down, he would do it standing tall, his defiance carved into every scar. His battered body straightened, standing like a monument to his unrelenting pride. Bloodied but unbowed, he laughed bitterly.

When Rellick surged into battle with the tailed Mandalorian, Gavin’s mood shifted momentarily. His grin returned as he watched the Sith Lord go to work. “Hell yeah!” he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Beat her ass, Rellick!” His elation was short-lived, though, as reality came knocking. You’re just cheering him on? Seriously, Gavin?

His eyes darted across the battlefield as he prepared to leap into the fray, but a sharp, instinctual pull in the back of his mind made him stop dead in his tracks. Gavin turned just in time to see the other Mandalorian taking aim from above. His heart sank briefly before the fiery rage reignited. “Oh, you’re real brave, aren’t you? Up there like a coward!” he bellowed, throwing himself into a full sprint as blaster bolts pounded the ground at his heels.

Ducking behind a crushed wall, Gavin caught his breath for a split second. His chest heaved as he pressed his back against the rubble, the anger still seething in his core. He peeked over the edge just in time to catch sight of his enemy’s position before another blaster shot forced him to duck back down. A grin spread across his face. “Gotcha.”

Reaching out with the Force, he grabbed a jagged chunk of rubble, the raw energy surging through his body as he launched it with all his might. The projectile smashed into the building, silencing the blaster fire, and Gavin didn’t hesitate. Fueled by fury and adrenaline, he burst from cover, his movements unnaturally swift as he tapped deeper into the Force. With a mighty leap, he hurled himself into the Mandalorian’s perch, smashing through the wall like a wrecking ball.

Dust and debris clouded the room as Gavin landed heavily on one knee, his senses sharp despite his lack of refined skill. He reached out with the Force, trying to locate his opponent. The sensation was faint, elusive, and ultimately useless to him. His lack of training showed, but it didn’t matter. Gavin wasn’t one to rely on subtlety or finesse.

He pressed his back against the wall, his breaths heavy as he scanned the room. A wicked grin spread across his face as he called out, his voice dripping with challenge and bravado.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Gavin taunted, his voice echoing through the ruined space. “Let’s handle this like men, why don’t we? One on one. Let’s see who walks away the victor.” His grin widened as he drew his knife, spinning it casually in his hand. His heart raced, the thrill of the hunt drowning out the pain in his battered body.

 

[Darth Caedes]

<<A grand enough display can transform lies into truth, so long as it is what the people desire to believe.>>
—Darth Caedes, ruminations...​

Wild Space
Orinackra System
Ruins of Ozzuk Thren
Day 1 — Lao-ta | Zal Aditi | Elim Thorne

Hydraulics hissed and whispered as the grand room's blast doors opened, revealing the summit chamber of the Obelisk of Ozzuk. Darth Caedes, King of Korriban, stepped forward with an unhurried grace, his figure a study in austere majesty. His robes, black as a starless night and trimmed in gold stitching with the iconography of Korriban's sun, Horuset, flowed like silken shadow as he moved. Constellations were painted intricately across his face in molten-gold and phosphorescent hues, accentuating a pair of high cheekbones and a set of full, ashy-black painted lips. The faint glint of a thin circlet, wound up in an unruly weave of tousled and thrown-about, dark hair, mostly bound up beneath a ceremonial headdress, caught light in the chamber’s stark illumination. His eyes, alive with a smoldering gold fire, swept across the room and seemed to absorb every detail.

From behind him, Jen’koshû Dreadlords emerged like wraiths from some cold nightmare, both the King's creations and his Guard. Their forms, half-corporeal and seeming to cling to the shadows of the room, moved in eerie unity, their dread-presence casting a pall over the room's otherwise bustling energy. Without a word, they fanned out to the chamber's edges, melting into the shadows to become silent sentinels with empty stares.

Caedes’ expression remained neutral, yet there was an almost imperceptible curve at the edge of his ashen lips, a satisfied grin which did not touch his eyes. Fleeting, he met the gazes of Tova Rachi , Priestess from Naboo, and business powers like Credius Nargath . To the first, he offered a quirk of his lips, and to the second a vacant nod. He hesitated, eyes lingering as they passed over The Shadow at the room's edge—though as to whether or not he saw its occupant, Caedes gave no indication. Presently, flashing lights from over his shoulder caught Caedes' attention, and he turned away.

The holoprojector table at the chamber’s center flickered with feeds of the arena below—ruined towers and mass structural damage, a terrifying Domina Prime spewing liquid plasma hot enough to melt stone, and the determined faces of two pureblooded Sith, Karala Midwan and Aiwaz Khath —a rarity in today's galaxy.

<<Sons and Daughters of the Sith, I am Maiza Vex ,>> proclaimed one of the contestants, on repeat across numerous screens.​

Elmindra Xitaar , her dark green Falleen skin gleaming like polished emeralds, matched his measured pace—her arm propped up by his own, her clawed fingers draping down atop the King's as if he were the arm's edge of a throne; her throne. Elmindra's was a reptilian beauty both keen and cutting, her crimson gaze scouring the room's crowds with the eyes of a predator amidst food.

Caedes’ attention settled first on Ufsa'ynth'aris , the Game Maker, poised at the room's center with an air of composed authority.

"My King," announced Syntharis, his tone a smooth purr of easy reverence.​

Sweeping one hand out to the side, the cobalt-skinned Chiss bowed deeply, folding himself in half with the gesture. Before the bow could linger, Caedes raised a hand, palm outward, to set the man at ease.

“Rise, Ufsa’ynth’aris,” Caedes said, his voice quiet yet resonant, each syllable weighted in the proper accents of the Chiss' late home world, Csilla.​

"You honor us with your work here," he said.​

"Please, continue."​

From the periphery, Taeli Raaf , one of the Emperor’s Dark Councilors, caught his eye. She stood with a regal poise, an almost enigmatic figure when set against the room’s activity, and easily one of the most influential Sith in the Order's entirety. To her, Caedes inclined his head, a slight gesture of respectful acknowledgment, though one which carefully skirted any outright implications of over-emphasized subservience.

Leading Elmindra, he crossed the room and joined those gathered by the central table, letting both his and the Falleen's fingers brush across its surface until he separated and pulled away, rounding the table's edge and coming to Taeli's side. The chamber's noise ebbed in his wake, a ripple of silently sobering deference spreading throughout the gathered technicians, attendants, and Sith.

"Arcanix," he said in a grim greeting.​

"I've been looking forward to this."​

 

[Maiza Vex]

Theme: Good Day to Die
Tags: Iskendyr Yvarro | Naamino Zuukamano | Micah tol Powl | Leshanna | Lyssara Thrynn | Kivah | Others

---

She walked down a stretch of broken street in the decrepit city when she heard the distinct sound of a building collapsing up ahead. Still surly with the "cool kids" and the blasted datapad with a map on it that didn't seem to be working right she picked up her pace. Heading for the building that crumbled, if she was lucky some idiot student got crushed and she loot them. She was formulating a plan of action now that she was alone, but she desperately needed supplies to pull it off.

As she came down the street that was covered by shadows from the other half crumbling buildings in the area. As she emerged, she saw him, almost shaking her head at even how well dressed he was for a survival scavenger hunt. Though his clothing was a bit torn up and dusty from the collapsed building he had just crawled out from. She looked at him and then the collapsed building. "Nice work." Her pace slowed and her scowl slowly shifted to a slight smile. "I hope the building deserved it. Though it looks like it got in a few licks before you took it down."

"I didn't think a survival scavenger hunt would be your kind of scene. " Then again he had gone collecting scrap onboard them dead ships so maybe she was miss judging him a bit. "If they are lucky they gave up and went home." She stopped herself from motioning, cutting their throats with her thumb across her neck. "Most likely though with the cool kids group that went that way." She pointed back behind her in the direction the large group of students were heading.

Before she could say anything more to his comments the ground erupted behind the pretty boy a scaled claw reaching up. Maiza's golden eyes went wide as she saw it yank Isk off his feet. She instinctively dropped her datapad to the ground and pulled her dagger from her belt. She was about to make a move when Isk pulled his own dagger and stabbed the things hand to free himself and scramble back to his feet.

"What is that…" She had seen a lot of monsters in her life but nothing exactly like that, and to be fair most of the monsters she had seen had been in cages. "I only got a dagger same as you, hey maybe you can talk it to death though." She just watched the monstrosity for a moment as Isk went into entertaining it with his Magicks. She watched the things movements ignoring Pretty boys pleas for assistance.

As it charged at Iskendyr, Maiza flipped her dagger blade between her thumb, index finger, and middle finger. Her wrist cocked back and she let the dagger fly end over end it went just as the beast charging turned it's head ever so slightly the dagger embed itself in the beast right eye. "Dammit.." She said as the beast skidded and turned its rage towards her shifting it balance then changing its heading to charge right for her. She hadn't put enough strength behind her throw she was hoping to go through the eye and into he brain. It was coming right for her now a she turned to run. "Use your damn magnets or electricity or what ever the hell you got aim for the dagger!" She yelled as she ran for another falling building though that was probably the worst option in this case. She hopped he got the hint use the dagger to fry its brain or push the dagger deeper in.

 

[Leshanna]

Lesh eyed those that followed along their group, seeming to have decided that Kivah was one to follow or tag along with. She honestly hadn’t seen much of the older Cathar since the race and the feast, and hadn’t interacted much at all since then either. Leshanna held some confidence in Kivah’s leadership skills; she seemed capable enough, however Lesh had joined because Naamino had given her a subtle invite to tag along.

Had he not done that, she was pretty sure the Cathar would have told her to get lost. She didn’t seem to like Lesh for some reason, at least - that was the impression she got. She’d been a little snarky with Kivah at the end of the race, admittedly, but who could blame her with all the adrenaline and emotions going through her at the time? Lesh shrugged off the thoughts; she wasn’t going to try and earn anyone’s approval here. Or at least, so she told herself.

Still, there was that childish notion of desiring friends. Even if they were of the Sith variety. She often saw how close Naamino and Micah were (something was definitely going on there - she saw how Micah looked at Naamino sometimes), heck even Naamino and Gavin - and she found herself feeling a twinge of…jealousy? Not that she’d ever tell him that; but she did find herself wanting close friends like that. She didn’t have anyone, really. No one really asked her to tag along with them while on academy grounds; was it because she spent so much time with her nose in a book? Or playing around with the alchemy stuff?

She shoved those thoughts aside to refocus on the task at hand; getting lost in her thoughts now could mean the difference between life or death out here, or victory and loss. She didn’t exactly care about winning anything big in this event…but surviving was her top priority. Making it back to the Academy alive would be her big win.

Besides…she had the upcoming Dance to look forward to. Or maybe she should sit that one out…not like she had anyone to go with…

Head back in the game, Lesh!

The girl sighed sharply as her gaze flickered to her various companions as they conversed between each other. Seemed they were going to share the color of the coin they had after all; she had her reservations - they were supposed to find the opposite coin and get it back to the main Obelisk - and of course it would present the temptation of bad thoughts should it be revealed that someone had the opposite coin another in the group needed.

Naamino had a black coin, and so did Kivah. Micah pulled out his coin to reveal a red coin, and Lesh figured, ‘why not’?

“Red coin for me.” she finally answered, as she watched Kivah break free a section of rebar from the crumbled ruins. Smart thinking, she thought to herself, her eyes scanning around to see if there was anything else that could be used as a makeshift weapon. At least until she could get proper armor and weapons.

If there was enough to go around, that was.

Spying a smaller piece of rebar, Leshanna went over and dug it out of the duracrete rubble; it still had pieces of duracrete stuck to it, but that was okay. Using the provided knife, she cut a strip of cloth from her cloak and fashioned herself a spear with the knife tightly bound to the rebar. It wasn’t perfect - but it just might keep her alive until she got something proper.

Kivah directed Naamino to lead them onward towards a cache, and the Zabrak was quick to comply as he pulled out the holomap and guided them onward and between some brutalist columns before calling them all to a halt. Lesh kept her eyes open and her senses alert, scanning the area around them carefully. She noticed the choke point as well, and recognized the danger for what it was, even as her friend told them that a cache was stored in one of the buildings ahead, and suggested that the more stealthy of the group should go first.

“That…makes sense to me. A scout could give us valuable information on what is waiting beyond for us, if anything. But separating the group might prove dangerous too; suppose we just have to go with the less risky option. I’d be happy to volunteer but..let’s be honest. Out of everyone in the group, I’m probably not all that stealthy and neither are you Naamino. So…who is gonna be the one to stealth ahead?”

Tags: Kivah // Naamino Zuukamano // Micah tol Powl // Myunnah ​

 

[Elmindra Xitaar]

Wild Space | Orinacka | Ozzuk Thren | Obelisk of Ozzuk
Tags: Darth Caedes | Ufsa'ynth'aris | Diarch Reign | Shan Pellian | Lodd Grimmin | Taeli Raaf | Madrona A’Mia | Credius Nargath | Elim Thorne | Darth Callidus | Thaelius | The Shadow | Tova Rachi | [OPEN]

______________________________________________
​

Elmindra Xitaar, Fleet Admiral and First Lord of Korriban, entered the summit chamber of the Obelisk of Ozzuk with the King, her King. Her tall, lean frame swayed with a fluid grace as she moved, accentuated by the tailored black and forest green leather suit that clung to her form like armor. The sharp angles of the shoulders and high collar gave her an air of martial authority, complimented by a level of opulence attributed to royalty.

Elmindra’s gaze swept across the chamber with the cold efficiency of a predator assessing her prey. She was pleased to find the room was already alive with intrigue, the air thick with the electric hum of ambition. Sorzus Academy students manned the circular console at the center of the room, their fingers dancing over controls and datapads as they monitored and effected the Trials. The massive holo-projector table in the center of the console displayed the cityscape, its brutal terrain teeming with life—or death, depending on one's perspective.

The Falleen’s large reptilian eyes lingered first on the Master of the Trials, Ufsa'ynth'aris , as he took his bow. The handsome Chiss exuded an effortless confidence and alluring charm, clearly comfortable with command even among so many other powerful people, but she did take a wicked pleasure in his show of deference to her and her King. The other Chiss nearby stood in stark contrast to the ostentatious Master of Trials, his militant uniform and strategic analysis of the holodisplay marking him as Grand Moff Thaelius – an intriguing attendee, indeed. However, it was the Dark Councilor, Taeli Raaf that perhaps intrigued Elmindra most. Her presence was a testament to the importance of the event and her contribution in providing countless twisted Sithspawn horrors to be unleashed upon the contestants was invaluable. The Falleen similarly inclined her head respectfully to the woman.

A ripple in the Force, like writhing roots beneath soil, drew her attention to A'Mia Madrona before she even saw her. The towering Neti loomed over the crowd, her botanical Sithspawn companion at her side. There was something otherworldly yet somehow more familiar about her now, a shift in her very essence since the integration of the orchid. Elmindra noted the sensation for future exploration with A’Mia as she took note of the others present–the demure Naboo priestess, Credius Nargath and his hulking Enforcer, The Shadow that appeared to be lurking nearby. She was surprised to find Diarch Reign to be absent considering his apparent fondness for the King, but she thought she recognized the insignia of the Diarchy worn by one who appeared to be a High Admiral. Perhaps he had not arrived yet.

Satisfied with her initial assessment, Elmindra turned her focus back to the King as he led on. While his presence was a gravitational force in the room, hers was as potent and deadly as venom. Where his prophetic connection to the Force guided, her strategic mind executed. Their partnership, forged in ambition and tempered by shared vision, was an unassailable bulwark. Together, they sought to cultivate power through unity, for Korriban, for the Sith Order, and for their allies. Together, they were architects of destiny, limited only by their force of will and the bounds of their imaginations.

“As have I,” Elmindra agreed as they settled in beside Taeli Raaf.

“I am eager to see what you and our Master of Trials have in store for our competitors,” she added, her appetite for cruelty lurking just beneath her practiced decorum.​

 

[Blade Ice]

Theme: Blue Monday
Weapons: Stun Baton | Avabush Spice | Deck of Cards
Other Items: Canteen
COINS: x2 Crimson
Tags: OPEN

---

A combat boot kicked at the cache that had been laid out popping it open. His orange eyes peered down at the contents with in. First, he pulled out the simple empty canteen within it, he slid it into one of the inner pockets of jacket making a mental not he would need to find a water source or some whiskey which ever came first. Next, he pulled out four vials of a green liquid bound together. He pulled the cork on one and took a sniff. "Avabush spice, nice could work in a pinch to knock someone out."

She continued to look through the contents coming across a stun baton which he clipped to his belt. This was clearly a non-lethal cache, the last item in the cache was a deck of cards, probably something to keep one's mind stimulated in down time. Though as he picked them up, he saw them for what they were a weapon. "Been awhile since I have used a playing card as a weapon." He mused to himself then slipped the cards into his jacket.

Leaving the cache open he started to walk away when a young kid couldn't have been over the age of twenty came around the back side of some small shack. The kid stared at Blade and then at the empty cache. Blade just sighed to himself as he knew what was going to happen next. "I will give you one chance to walk away and not do something stupid." Blade called out to the kid though he knew it wouldn't work it wouldn't have worked on him at that age.

The kid used the force to pick up a few objects with he force and fling them at Blade. Blade moved lightning quick rolling to his left, nothing more than a blur dodging the few objects tossed at him. He came to a stop and just shook his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you." The kid then came at him fist posed and ready. Blade just stood there as left jab came in for face, Blade's right forearm came up blocking it from the inside. Then the boys right came for Blade's abdomen which with blade caught with his left hand.

"Now that was foolish you have left your center completely exposed." He shook his head as the kid stubborn as ever came in with a kick of his left leg at Blade's left shin. As he did, that Blade's right leg came in for a sweep at the boy's right leg knocking him off balance. Blade's right hand spun around grabbed the left wrist of the boy to catch him from falling to the ground. "I have one question for you, and I want you to really think about it. Do you want to live or die right now?" He saw the fear in the boys eyes as he asked the question, the kid was young and inexperienced. He waited for the answer as he held the boy off balance from falling on the ground.

"I would have killed you, so kill me." The kid stammered out though it was clear by the fear in his eyes he didn't want to die. With that said Blade pulled the kid up and headbutted him hard enough to make him go unconscious then dropped him to the ground. "It's your lucky day kid, you answered correctly so you get to live to see another day." Blade then rifled through the kids clothing and pulled out another crimson coin just like his. "But your out of the game and I am keeping this." He smirked and walked off from the cache and the unconscious kid now up to crimson coins needing to find an obsidian one.

 

[Shan Pellian]

Tags: Diarch Reign Elmindra Xitaar

The trials were well underway by the time Shan arrived, along with Reign. Lord Rellik had arrived separately and was taking an active hand in the events. Reckless. Shan had tried to talk him out of it; the leader of an entire nation should not be throwing himself into a competition for Sith. To trust a Sith was dangerous enough, but to throw himself into a trial more often not designed to kill the unwary or weak. That was how the Sith operated, something Pellian had seen from experience.

But the Diarch had been determined.

Standing in the observation tower with the other attendees, Pellian kept a wary eye on the displays but his focus was drawn to one of the new arrivals. The King of Korriban, a figure Shan was peripherally aware of from information reports gathered by the Network. Beside him, though, was the First Lord of Korriban, Elmindra Xitaar. More importantly to Shan than her first title, was her second title. Fleet Admiral of Korriban. Shan straightened himself up, folding his hands behind his back, one gloved hand resting in the other, and began to make his way towards the Fleet Admiral.

The Korriban State and the Diarchy were on friendly terms at the moment, though Shan held his reservations on the subject. One of Lord Reign's orders before their arrival had been to instruct Shan to seek out and speak with the Korriban First Lord. The topic of cooperation and joint ventures between their navies had been what the Diarch had intended, but Shan had a different objective in mind.

"Fleet Admiral Xitaar," Shan said when an opening in the conversation presented itself. He bowed his head in greeting, eyes darting up and down the Falleen as he assessed them. "I am High Admiral Shan Pellian, representative of the Lords Reign and Rellik's Diarchy. It is," Shan paused, his eyes narrowing, "a pleasure."

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

As I thought, he shows empathy this might buy me some time, so I might as well take advantage of it. I see him slightly lower his weapon, which feels like a small victory for me. Sometimes, words can be as sharp as a lightsaber. When used wisely, diplomacy can work wonders. However, I can't celebrate too soon he's still wary of me, and I need to dispel his suspicions before I can let my guard down.

Judging by his build, I think he might be a former soldier or maybe he's still in service? If that's the case, I'll have to tread very carefully if I don't want to end up in pieces. He proposes a temporary alliance.

"I agree that a situational alliance might be a good idea for both of us. I accept."

In this game of death, having allies ven temporary ones is always a smart move. If it helps me secure a loot crate and get better equipped, I'm all for it.

He asks me another question about the competition. It feels like a trap, so I need to be cautious with my answer, as I notice he's watching my every move, especially my reactions.

"The others will be willing to kill to get their hands on a supply crate. The competition will be fierce. We're trapped here for five days. There are deadly traps and advanced defenses everything is designed to trip us up. The other combatants have the same basic gear as us, but if they find loot crates before we do, we might end up in a tough spot. Yes, its a horrible death game... And we traps here, so i suggest we get more equipement for the few day and find a safe spot, That's what I was about to do before I met you, I never really liked brutal and violent fights.
"

i down my hands and i take a neutral position.

I don't have any water or food on me. I was dropped into the combat zone with nothing but a knife and a small map. That's all the gear I have right now. The longer this goes on, the harder it will be to find useful equipment, as other groups will have already started scavenging the area.

It's like a Battle Royale, where it's every man for himself. Sometimes, to win, you have to use every resource at your disposal. I'm careful not to reveal too much and blow my cover. After all, I don't really know anyone here. No one is truly an ally or an enemy I'm starting on neutral ground.

Thel Kaan