The Ancient Eye - Civil Gambit - Edemar

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Jedi Temple of Edemar was now little more than ashes. Embers still filled the thick purple sky as it's carcass had began to fall in upon itself, it's corpse thickened by the many fallen Jedi whom the Matador had slain in the night.

​A night of butchery and a merciless nature that was reserved for only the most savage of creatures. The Ancient Eye had shown an unrelenting savagery towards the Jedi and defenders of Nibelungen and her sister planets. A savagery that had left their people on the defensive.

​These people were soon to come under the fold of the Ancient Eye, to be subjected to their ways whether willing or by force. Yet, even while this was evident they still stood defiant.

​The native residents of Edemar were warrior like, and took pride in their Religious views of the force. Following a system of belief not too dissimilar to that of the Jedi, thus they eagerly took in the cowardly Council Members who'd so quickly turned their backs on their fellow Jedi in hopes of survival.

​Yet, those efforts were to no avail. At least it was so for Jedi Master Eliyse Dareiyn, she was one of the few Council members who had escaped from the Vault in the Jedi Fortress on Edemar. She had taken an artefact that intensified a Force Sensitives ability to control others via telepathy and in her fear, she took control of a local village on Edemar; Garadel. Master Dareiyn hoped to hide herself amongst the villagers.

It wasn't long before she was discovered. Visitors and members from other villages had begun to disappear upon entry to Garadel, raising the suspicions of nearby villagers and soon the newly reigning Warlords. It was but a few hours before word reached The Matador of the strange occurrence.


​GARADEL

​Pain still teased the unrested flesh, and thus he had not arrived alone. Two Tol Varen warriors stood on either side of the Matador, awaiting instruction. Garadel was surrounding by sandstone watchtowers and battlements, sitting on the ridge of a small hill overseeing a lake and beach of red sand. This made only a single approach viable, with a sturdy Durasteel in the centre. Edemar's people were not to be trifled with, several standing with rifles drawn as their oppressors stood casually beyond their gate. However the three Tol Varen were not alone, [member="Kyle Raymus"] and [member="Skorvek"] fell in behind the War-Chieftain and his two fellow warriors.

​The Crimson clad Chieftain took a single step forward, ahead of the rest. Crimson beskar clicked against itself in response to his movements, giving an inhuman and mechanical texture to the sound of his movements, the enormous Ori-Buir resting on his back, it's hilt rising almost four feet above his head. The faceless slitted helmet looked up, testing the nerves of the Edemarian warriors on the battlements. They were unflinching, without motion. As if waiting for an unseen command, sitting in a reactionary state as if they would be triggered by an orders consequence rather than there own initiative. He felt this much at least, taking a step back.

"She is here."

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

​

[-SOUNDTRACK-]​

Attn: [member="Kyle Raymus"] | [member="Kiso"] | [member="Skorvek"] | [member="The Matador"]​

• Garadel
  Rebel Settlement on Edemar

The light wind blew across the open expanse outside the walls of the village of Garadel as the morning mist lifted to reveal the Warchief and his party. A mountain of a man, the heavily armored Matador was a terrifying figure who's mere presence would stir terror amongst the ranks of his enemies and he did not stand alone on this day.

Fur-trimmed leather cloak billowing in the wind, in rhythm with the red sand as if it danced to the wind's mesmerising, silent melody, the Lord of Shrouds stood with the Matador's party, ice-blue eyes scanning the defensive positions of their enemies. He was accompanied, as usual, by ten of his Wolfguards, elite soldiers which, while not as imposing as the Warchief's Tol Varren, were elite warriors in their own right, given a feral, predatory appearance by their wolfcloaks. These were, of course, not the only escort which Kainan Wolfe had brought with him. There was also a masked individual, dressed in immaculate white robes and a flowing hooded cloak as white as the midwinter snow. A Warden of the Shroud.

Wolfe and his party had arrived to answer the Warchief's summons. Under the cover of the night, the party had snuck up on the defiant village's walls and when the sun dawned, it dawned on a fully-armed war party that had arrived with a singular purpose in mind. They were here to hunt Jedi. The villagers were tough, fierce and well armed, but they had never faced anything like this before. Wolfe doubted any of the men and women manning that wall would survive this encounter.

Intel indicated that a Jedi master was hiding in this settlement. Worse, she and her followers had apparently begun to kidnap or possibly murder witnesses who might reveal her location. And there was the possibility that she might be involved with the Hand of Light, a vicious terrorist group that had sprouted roots on the Shrouded Republic's moon, Winter.

As the Warchief stepped forward, so did Wolfe, though he remained a step back, allowing the Matador to take the dominant position. Edemar was his domain and this land was under his jurisdiction. And although it could be argued that Wolfe's political power was equal to the Warchief's, the Lord of Shrouds respected the man enough to not insult him in his own home. Wolfe awaited the Matador's order to commence the assault.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

The Anubian did not enjoy flying. When he had arrived, he stuck with the group, hanging about toward the rear of the group formed by [member="Kainan Wolfe"] and [member="The Matador"]. It saw as the warchief approached, and the Anubian tensed at the sight of the force in Garadel. Gritting his teeth as it watched the confrontation take place, it waited for action to take place. "If this Jedi hides here, we should storm in. Bring them down, and all that stand in our way" the Anubian declared rather quietly, much too eager for combat. He had yet to learn of the whole plan, as all he wanted was to fight. To find this Jedi, and test his own strength against them. "Crush them all, cut them all down."

 

[Skorvek]

He heard [member="The Matador"]'s summons to Edemar to do some clean up at Garadel that had some disappearance's he arrived and joined [member="Kainan Wolfe"] and [member="Salij-Nekt"] with the Matador's forces he had a few undead Jedi with him as he kept his curved blade sheathed it was nothing special yet he would have to alchemize it later once the basin is completed. Perhaps he can ask the Matador to spare a few souls for the process the more souls the better for the Basins potency when the sacrifices are made, But for now the last bits of rebellion were needed to be destroyed and added to his army of undead to be tormented for all time. He looked over the village as lightning surged through his blade for a moment before turning to the Matador and spoke in his deepish voice, Before the assault If youll have it i can unleash a storm of lighting upon that village to ...soften the souls before there passing is delivered. His tone was neutral in ever aspect he had a unique perspective on death which was ironic given he has become the lord of it since his return.

 

[Formorta]

[-Theme-]​

[member="Skorvek"] l [member="Salij-Nekt"] l [member="Kainan Wolfe"] l [member="The Matador"] l ​

• Garadel
  Rebel Settlement on Edemar

The air shimmered slightly next to [member="Kainan Wolfe"] with each step, dust moving around the apparition that seemed to be there but at the same time did not, before the cloak of invisibility put together though different cloaking technology finally disengaged, revealing the paled skin woman. It had been a while since Formorta had done anything with the Shrouded Republic, but with their now established base and working military, her position in PAC ops was now needed, and what better place to test her skills then in hunting down some over fanatic Jedi and helping some dog face looking people kill her. It was not the masked assassins usual job, but she had enough of Sith for now, a nice change of pace would bode well, and unlike Kiso, Formorta had no problem with killing who ever she was told too.

The woman silently stepped closer to Wolfe, brandishing her OL-2 slug sniper, pulling back on the bolt and loading a round into the chamber, but also keeping her other arms at the ready with her duel blasters and vibro knifes. "... What is the point of an entire army for one Jedi master... I could do this by myself.... looking out for other people just complicates things... I don't like complications". If there was one thing Formorta did not like about working with the Ancient Eye, and that was working with the Ancient Eye, people in general was not something she liked, going lone wolf was more her thing, but orders where order.

 

[Kyle Raymus]

Attn: [member="Kainan Wolfe"] |[member="Formorta"] | [member="The Matador"] |[member="Salij-Nekt"] |[member="Skorvek"]
Location: Garadel. Rebelious settlement on Edemar.
Objective: Pacify Rebels

The group had reached the gates of Garadel. The sentries were unmoving, much like statues. They had no fear. Even before a 7'2'' warrior with an enormous Zweihander. And a group of armed and mean warriors. Kyle stood to the side of the Lord of Shrouds, his face covered by a black mask. He wore a dark cloak, which concealed the vibrosaber underneath it. He eyed the sentinels atop the watchtowers of Garadel. There were plenty. None moved. Eerily so.

Beside him uncloaked a woman, an Assassin and member of the PAC Corps.

"... What is the point of an entire army for one Jedi master... I could do this by myself.... looking out for other people just complicates things... I don't like complications".

Foolish. Alone, take down a Jedi Master and council member, guarded by a lot of feral and evil looking warrior villagers. Such arrogance would be the death of her.

"That's... foolish. Don't overestimate your skills. Do you see that man there? Yes, the 7'2'' war machine with a Zweihander the size of two of your bodies. Would he have picked us up for the ride if he could do it alone? No. Do you still think you can do it alone?"

These assassin types always overestimated their skills and underestimated the skills of those around them...

"Besides. No one here needs looking out for, Assassin."

Kyle disliked Formorta, there was no point in denying it. Such arrogance, disregard and disrespect. There was no denying though, the woman was skilled. He wouldn't mind her company when faced by around a couple hundred feral warriors and a Jedi Master.

"Shall we begin the attack?"- Kyle inquired as he raised his rifle and lowered his hood, activating his tactical assisstance HUD within his mask as he did so.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador stood silently, his mind drawing on the numbing patience of the Villagers. He felt the cloud of influence that hung over them, he felt the unhinged correspondence between Eliyse Dareiyn and the many villagers, perhaps a hundred or more. Yet, she was still a Jedi nonetheless; he could feel the elderly and children hiding deep in the confines of their church. His feelings extended, an arrogance that feigned a shocked nature in regards to the Jedi's actions. She could feel it too, she knew she'd sentenced these people to death. Still, as her heart pumped furiously in her chest, as she trembled and ached; it was her instinct to survive that commanded her. She was a Jedi no longer, she was just...

​Afraid.

​"How very, Human of you."

​​The Matador remarked as almost a muttered whisper, a robotic and bestial growled layered his words with spiteful amusement. His intentions lay clear as his tolerant nature seemed to give way. The low growl that had been left clinging to the air had a faint hint of violence to it. As he outstretched his arm, grunting in his bestial robotic tone as a wave of telekinetic energy impacted against the sandstone walls.

​"Now!"

He barked, an explosive pop caused the sandstone to scattered, sand bursting into the air in a miniaturized storm as stone cascaded around them, landing in various spots. The villagers standing above it stumbled and fell, dropping off of the side of the battlements. At least twenty stood still, immediately opening fire on the party below. The Tol Varen Warriors move silently, raising their shields as they pushed through the gap following their Chieftain. Men and women filled the slitted view of The Matador as he entered the Village. The Tol Varen warriors moved at diagonals, clearing several feet between themselves and the Matador as Oribuir came to bare.

​The massive hilt found its home in his left hand, pulling its pommel against his right arms wrist, using its weight to hold the blade against his chest as he turned his upper torso striking the first opponent, using the momentum to levy Oribuir into a half sword grip. Blocking blaster bolts, instinctively however unnecessary as the plasma beat against his Beskar chassis.

​He did not run, nor dash forward. He simply walked, the Matador pressed forward at a slow pace striking at the Villagers one by one. His blade ignited, the orange raging plasma between Oribuir's massive blades' slicing through the offensive like a boiling knife through butter. Yet there was still so many, they attempted to flack. A single villager carrying a vibrospear struck for his leg, aiming to maim and restrict his movement. The Matador switched pace, moving faster than the simple villagers could react. He trapped the thrusting spear between his leg, snapping its shaft in two with the powerful movement of his legs; using the momentum to strike his pommel into the chest of his enemy, cracking ribs and crushing organs as his body jolted back several feet.

​Switching to a two handed grip, he swung the blade's full near ten feet; crushing and throwing bodies into the air. The Tol Varen warriors slowly pushing to his left and right. Behind the Matador, bodies filled the entrance into the building. Giving a safe entry to the other members of his party.

[member="Kyle Raymus"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Skorvek"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Kainan Wolfe"]

 

[Kyle Raymus]

"NOW!"
With those words, The Matador shattered the walls of the village. Effortlessly, brutally. What was before an impregnable fortress now had a gaping hole in it. And through it charged three warriors, ferocious as wild tigers who were out on the hunt. They simply sliced through the enemy. Anything that came withing 9 feet of the Matador (Within Oribuir's range) would be obliterated. Destroyed. Crushed. Kyle however would have to take a different approach. He leapt up, his jetpack carrying him up towards the battlements. He fired. One. Two. Three. Bodies dropped as the blaster bolts pierced their flesh. The masked man continued his attack. He rushed through the guardians of the village, bringing them down before they could reach him. This murder wasn't unnecessary. They were guarding a Jedi. They deserved death. Kyle's assault rifle kept on churning out green bolts of plasma... Bodies kept dropping... Until the gas canister ran out. The trigger was pulled... yet it responded with a mechanical click. No blaster bolt.

The warrior villagers seized their chance. A plasma bolt hit Kyle's shoulder and chest, burning through the demon's cloak, down and down...Only to be stopped and turned to nothing by the Beskar armour beneath. It hurt, it stung, yet it did no damage. He sprang forward, bringing the Endeavour to bear as he closed in on the group of warriors on the next watchtower. The last tower on this end. He brought the pommel of his blade down on the head of the nearest soldier, before turning around, his blade extended, slicing the next warrior's Vibrosaber in half. He then used his jetpack to propel himself forward, between the next two. They swung towards him with their vibro-axes, one of them scoring a hit on the Demon's flesh. A grazing hit. However moments later both soldiers found themselves crumpling to their knees. Their muscles in the groin region were severed by the Endeavour's electrifying blade. A stab.
Blood.
It splattered the Demon's mask as the scream of the villager was silenced. His brother in arms attempted to crawl away. Futile. Death would catch him too. A single swing. His body was split in half.
Blood for the Blood God. -The demon within Kyle roared as he jumped down, straight into the fray. Matador was a bit behind, catching up swiftly as Kyle found himself surrounded. He quickly dodged as a vibrospear was jabbed in his direction, passing just above his left shoulder. He fired a blast of electricity at the warrior to blame, before wrapping him in the lasso which was produced by his mandalorian vambrace. He pulled, and aided by the vambrace, threw the soldier into the crowd, following up with two blasts from the repulsors. He then activated the flamethrowers, burning the fuel canister of one of the villager's rifles. It exploded, viciously wounding three villagers, covering five more in an acidic substance that burnt their flesh. He returned the Endeavour into it's scabbard. It hissed, cooling down as it was plunged into the coolants within the scabbard. Kyle unholstered his blaster pistol, firing 8 rounds, each piercing the skull of one of the incapacitated warriors. He wiped his mask's visor, which was now stained in blood, and looked around. Where were the others? And where was that pesky Jedi? He would not face her on his own, no. He stood no chance against a warrior of that level. Even the Jedi filth had to be respected for their skill. Lest they shall behead you in a moment's notice.

[member="The Matador"] |[member="Kainan Wolfe"] |[member="Formorta"] |[member="Salij-Nekt"] |[member="Skorvek"]

 

[Aeron Tosh]

Aeron Tosh, the tech-savy cybernetic twi'lek wasn't really one for fighting. No, he preferred to stay behind. Left to fondle with his toys - and his brilliance. Of course, his incredible skill with technology is the very reason he was invited into the Ancient Eye's PAC ops.

Sadly, his pacifist approach to combat meant he'd frequently go unnoticed in the mist of lightsaber swings and blaster bolts flying everywhere. Aeron didn't mind this one bit though, because as the "brutes" of the Ancient Eye were busy ripping through countless pathetic villagers, Aeron was busy on his ship creating a gadget that would aid very greatly in the search for the Jedi Master they so desperately wanted to maim.

Aeron trailed off his ship and walked right behind the rest of the group at the perfect time. Bodies lay on the blood stained floor with panting soldiers eager for more and the eerily calm Matador holding his lightsaber stance boldly in the center of it all.

Aeron lazily picked up his arm and slid back his sleeve as one would if they were checking the time on a watch, but instead Aeron was activating his tracking device through his cybernetic arm.

Calmly, in a very quiet voice Aeron said, "It looks like the Jedi went northeast." while pointing with his unoccupied hand in that direction.

Aeron wonders if anybody even heard him over their thoughts.

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

​

Attn: [member="Kyle Raymus"] | [member="Kiso"] | [member="Skorvek"] | [member="The Matador"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"]​

• Garadel
  Rebel Settlement on Edemar

With one word, the Matador shattered the silence like he shattered the defensive ramparts of the defiant village. Within what seemed like a moment, the calm before the storm gave way to a hurricane of violence as everyone sprang into action.

With a wave of his hand, Wolfe willed his troops into action. As silently as their overlord, they bolted towards the gap in the wall, the only sounds they made being the distinctive popping sounds of their slugthrowers. As always, the Lord of Shroud led the charge, firing his own rifle until he closed the distance with the enemy. One hundred meters. Fifty. Then, chaos.

The War Chieftain was already cutting down enemies left and right, sending bodyparts flying in every direction. Wolfe batted a dismembered arm away with his vambracer. His right hand drew his lightsaber and ignited it, giving life to a blade the color of midnight. "Formorta, take up position on what's left of their wall. Your targets are the leaders of the villagers. Take out anyone who is giving orders. Move from rooftop to rooftop as we advance," he instructed his assassin.

Stepping forward, Wolfe met one of the villagers, his lightsaber cleaving apart his enemy's vibrosword, then body, in one downwards swing. Several more converged onto him, wild, fanatical grins lighting their faces in an almost demonic visage. The warlord lifted his free arm and focused, drawing on his hatred of the Jedi and casting it forward. Lightning leapt from his fingers and struck the approaching enemies, bringing them writhing in pain to their knees, alive, but temporarily disabled. While Wolfe was not yet powerful enough to kill several enemies with a single attack with the Force, his lightsaber was more than adequate enough to finish them off.

The Wolfguards and the lone Warden advanced with their leader, rifles firing into a massed group of enemy combatants and mowing them down. A concealed sniper fired on the Shrouded soldiers, taking out one Wolfguard, but then the Warden turned, extended his arm and one of the vibroswords that lay scattered on the ground, came to life, flying like a spear in the direction from which the sniper had fired. A gurgled scream was the response and the sniper stopped firing.

Wolfe caught up with the Matador and his warriors, his unit covering their flanks, fighting in a silent, disciplined coordination, an eerie display of lethal skill. There was no hesitation. No mercy. For thousands of years, the Jedi Autocracy had brainwashed the people of this world and had committed unspeakable atrocities against them. The time had come for these Jedi and their supporters to pay for their crimes. Wolfe was here to carry out the sentence.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

[member="Kainan Wolfe"] @Aeron Tosh [member="Kyle Raymus"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Formorta"] @Skorvek

As soon as the signal was given, the Anubian charged forward, acting as a whirlwind as he danced and sliced through their ranks. But mostly, he was acting as interference to the enemy ranks, breaking their lines and morale. Some tried to fire, but any pain the Anubian sustained was shrugged off. As soon as he had made the first drop of blood spill from one of his enemies, a lust for combat replaced any pain. His mind was focused on just combat, on keeping his foes at bay. Some made their way for the Anubian with vibroblades, challenging him. Some proved to be a challenge, for at least a few seconds. And some were immediately cut down. None made their mark, as the Anubian was skilled in close combat.

None who came against the the Anubian were spared from a painful, yet quick death.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Heavy, ragged and electronic breaths filled the small gaps between the ferocious sounds that indicated battle. Bodies lay strewn throughout the village, men and women alike lay butchered; their last expressions lost to the brutality of war. Blood worked as a river through the empty parts of the villages streets. Coating the ground with a thick toxic layer of gut and flesh.

​Villages lay, wailing like children as they pulled at their stomachs. Holding on for dear life, pushing their bulbous organs back into their bodies. In the frenzy of it all, the pain must have overloaded the Council Members senses. The Matador felt it, like a cry of despair that echoing from the minds of everyone around them. The whole battle froze as a feminine scream echoed a hundred times over inside the minds of every being within the confines of the village.

ץ๏ย ฬเɭɭ קคץ Ŧ๏г คɭɭ ՇђคՇ ץ๏ย ђคשє ๔๏ภє!

​The voice was filled with venom, filled with hate. The Matador could feel it, like a drill piercing into the soft of his sweat covered temples. A wincing pain that caused him to stagger on the swing of his blade. Eliyse Dareiyn targeted everyone within the village, attacking their minds to sway for them to strike themselves.

​Mental apparitions would begin to flood the thoughts and eyes of those nearby, images of their blades hastily cutting through their own bodies. The Tol Varen warriors stopped for but a moment, freezing. The Wolfguard stopping, one even dropping his weapon in shock. The Warden stood, lowering his weapon for but a moment. A blaster bolt collided with one of the Wolfguards heads, a spear entered the throat of one of the Tol Varen warriors, another wolfguard fell as the Warden sprung into action, fighting back against the woeful mental apparitions.

​The Matador followed suite; feeling the adrenaline and rage fill his lungs as he shot out his palm, releasing a telekinetic blast from his arm. Dirt and grass sprouted up into the air, the force of the blast grazing the ground; leaving it scared as Villagers shot back, their organs turned to mush in their bodies due to the force of the impact. The Matador pressed forward, the orange plasma of Oribuirs blades carrying it through enemy after enemy.

​​___________________________________________________________

​Darkness rose just within the periphery of everyone on the battlefield. [member="Kainan Wolfe"] would see a fencers blade strike at him, a man of similar shape and form as himself. The warrior, entirely ignored by his companions as the warrior leapt out from the darkness, raining lightning on Kainan as his face became clear, it was himself. Master Dareiyn had created reverse images of themselves for them to fight, and them alone to fight. To others, it would appear as Kainan was fighting a ghost. A ethereal greyness beyond their touch, but the image of himself was very much alive in his own eyes. ​"Look at what you've become." ​The ghoul spoke, leaping over Kainan and striking at his head with a fencing blade, activating a reserve gripped saber in the other hand. The blade shot out, grey and lifeless. The false ghoul matched Kainan in speed and strength, striking with equal ferocity.

[member="Kyle Raymus"] would see a similar apparition, a blood soaked cleaver wielding savage charging at him; screaming a blood curdling roar as he charged at Kyle, the savage appearance mirrored the inner demon of Kyle. It was his true form, a being without skin, made of malleable and weak flesh, blood spilling from every square inch of its body, its bones nearly visible. Yet pure rage and adrenaline carried the bestial creature thrust its blades in his direction, swiping and dashing at Kyle.

​Anubian spectres appeared to face both [member="Salij-Nekt"] and [member="Skorvek"], grey and large powerful spectres striking at them. Skorveks spectre, hurdling dark tendrils at his opponent, Salij striking with a lance. All the while, the village warriors continued to attack. They face themselves and more.

___________________________________________________________

@Aeron Tosh | [member="Formorta"]





​

 

[Tristar]

[WRONG ACCOUNT]

 

[Karl Halvorsen]

"Hmpf." Karl straightened up, crunching his cigarette underfoot.

There was plenty of smoke on the horizon, columns raging into the normally clear sky. As far as Karl was concerned, it was the first time this wasn't his fault. It would be a momentous occasion were it not for the fact that he had to walk into the valley of death. It wasn't the prospect of dying that scared the man.

He just hated walking.

The freelancer set off at a brisk pace, clutching his slouch hat down the hill as he quick-walked over to the village. Whoever had hired him could have at least waited until he had arrived, or at least arranged a transport for the man. Clearing past the trees as he followed the edge of the lake, it became more and more evident to Karl that whatever was pushing all the buttons and making the pyrotechnics may have been beyond his pay grade. Was it too late for the man to bail out? He had walked this far, sweated like a cow and wasted credits arranging the shuttle to this planet; under normal circumstances, yes. Yes he would have bailed a long time ago.

Now, standing at the broken gates of Garadel, he just wanted to get it over with. Broken bodies piled high, some burned and some beyond identification; huts riddled with holes, rubble clogging the streets as small fires raged in their own beds of debris. The man whistled in admiration.

"Impressi-"

A figure staggered out of one of the ruined buildings, skin blackened with soot and a bad case of bed hair, coughing his lungs out. Karl stood silently, his word unfinished as the villager kept on coughing. It went on for a few minutes until he judged the man as unimportant and promptly drew his pistol and shot him. Unfortunately the sound of pistol fire drew the attention of a few more Edemarian warriors, appearing from the smokey background like blackened demons, screaming in frothing anger with their weapons raised high to skewer the gunslinger.

"Y'know," he said as he emptied two shots into the chest of the first villager, his body crumpling with a gurgle. "I imagine this place was very nice-," he grunted as he dodged a tackle, ending the woman's life with a shot. "-before the whole sky came crashing down on your little patch of paradise." He paused, emptying his revolver at two more villagers who attempted a coordinated attack.

The gun quickly slid back into its holster as Karl drew another revolver, leaping back as he came under attack by three more villagers. He ducked under a vibroblade, the humming buzzing loudly in his ear as he rolled forward and broke free of the encirclement, twisting around as he landed and fired three shots from the hip- they each found their mark, shattering a kneecap, blinding one and maiming the arm of another. He didn't have time to enjoy his handiwork as he came under fire from the remaining few warriors, who by the grace of being smart had stayed away from the pistol carnage. Karl cursed loudly as he dashed for a piece of rubble, firing a shot before jumping into cover. A cry of pain notified his shot had struck.

Now pinned behind his cover, the gunslinger peeked to his left and quickly recoiled as a shot nearly took his head clean off his shoulders. Exhaling, forgetting to breathe during the confrontation, he toss his hat up into the air and followed it, squeezing the trigger twice- two bodies dropped, leaving the final man cowering as Karl's hat fell onto his head, a single burning hole in the center.

Unfortunately that was all he had, and the sole survivor knew it, judging from the sudden schadenfreude smile on his face. "I count twelve sho-"

Crack!​

Karl lowered a third gun, the barrel smoking. "I count three guns." His face broke into a giant grin, giggling childishly as the last villager dropped dead, a huge chunk of his shoulder missing. He stepped over the results of his work, loading his two revolvers by hand cheerfully as he leisurely made his way towards the source of the destruction, humming to himself.

 

[Kyle Raymus]

Kyle looked around through the smoke. He saw chaos. The Wolfguards stopped. The Tol Varen stopped. The Lord of Shrouds stopped. Then, after this beastly pause, the chaos resumed. Kainan Wolfe began moving erratically. Fighting the air. So did many. Kyle unholstered his blaster pistols yet again, firing away at the remaining villagers, of which there were plenty. Many crumpled, heads, bodies riddled with holes that were torn by blaster fire. The villagers were fierce, yes. But they were simple barbarians. They lacked skill and precision. Kyle would abuse that weakness. He danced between blows, slicing away weapons, disabling the enemy. He was no longer the beast he was moments ago. He returned to his normal self. No longer bloodthirsty, but still determined. It was at this moment that a beastly figure emerged from the smoke, swinging bloodied cleavers, it's body a mass of blood. The being charged Kyle, and he responded. It attacked him from behind leaping at him ferociously. Kyle rolled backwards, dodging the attack by passing straight under the monstrosity.

Kyle proceeded to act on the counter attack. The being that almost had his neck was now vulnerable, but a bit too close. Those axes could pose a serious threat. Kyle's right hand instantly went for the vibrosaber on his hip, while the other hand pulled out a blaster pistol. He then aimed the pistol at the beast's chest, firing his repulsor and blaster simultaneously. Hopefully it would get through the beast's defense. This one was far stronger. More fierce. More dangerous. Skilled. He had to keep it at bay. The bloody figure resonated with something within Kyle's mind. It felt strangely familiar. Similar to "the Demon". That's what Kyle called his ferocious second personality.

Little did Kyle know however, that this was the Demon, in it's purest form. It was fierce, so fierce, Kyle had little chance in beating it toe to toe. He had to think smart, take his time. Yes, that was the way. Kyle braced himself and raised the Endeavour, ready to defend. He also readied two small missiles withing his vambraces. They weren't ordinary. As was his opponent. Cunning was key in this battle.

[member="The Matador"] |[member="Kainan Wolfe"] |[member="Skorvek"] |[member="Salij-Nekt"] |[member="Karl Halvorsen"]

 

[Aeron Tosh]

Aeron just froze still as he witnessed his "buddies" (if you'll even call them that) literally start brawling with nothing. He was puzzled at first, but only small amounts of thinking made him realize that they must've been put under some kind of mental spell of some sort. Obviously the work of a desperate Jedi grasping at anything to lengthen his final minutes.

With [member="Formorta"] off doing her own thing Aeron decided he'd take some initiative and begin tracking down the Jedi. He knew his friends would be capable of handling the weak onslaught of village warriors and they were more than capable of keeping them distracted for him. Aeron spent a good amount of his time in the Ancient Eye being invisible and staying in the back. Aeron knew he couldn't change his natural tendency to go unnoticed, so he chose to make it his strength.

With hordes of warriors charging at the delusional fighters and the continuous sound of blaster fire flying overheard, Aeron knew no one would bat an eye if he just walked along the outskirts of the bloody battlefield.

Aeron took out another gadget from his bag of tricks, a cloaking device he stole off a bounty hunter.... but that was a story for another day.

Aeron turned himself partially invisible and made his way through the sides of the fight. Completely undetected he followed his tracking device to the northeast. The red dot flashing in and out of existence periodically, as though the Jedi was attempting to hide himself, but Aeron knew his efforts would fall short.

Aeron always found his treasure no matter where he went, and finding a person as "unique" as a Jedi in a village of roided up beasts wasn't going to be anymore difficult.

[member="The Matador"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Kainan Wolfe"] | [member="Kyle Raymus"] | [member="Skorvek"]

 

[Formorta]

[member="Skorvek"] l [member="Salij-Nekt"] l @Kainan Wolfe l [member="The Matador"] l @ Aeron Tosh l [member="Kyle Raymus"]

• Garadel
  Rebel Settlement on Edemar

Formorta had not bothered to reply to Kyle, if anyone was being foolish it was him, no one here had seen her in action before, and for good reason, she was a master of stealth, someone who could penetrate the most heavily defended establishments in the galaxy. So of course the two handed wielding giant would need help, being big and carrying a big stick meant nothing in the world of hand help weapons that could level entire buildings. She on the other hand did not work like that, Formorta was a professional silent and to the point, a phantom legend on the galaxy, unknown but at the same time fear for her skill with a rifle for those who knew, a non force user who had time and time again tussled with Sith lords and assassin. The fact she was still alive spoke witness to her skill and survival methods, all without using fancy void stone of anti force user equipment or sabre resistant weapons, more that what she could say for mister uptight admiral.

With the attack underway and orders from the Lord of Shroud himself Formorta was off in a flash, wanting to get separate from the action to do what she did best, the pale woman zipping away from the main group with her grappling hook front flipping onto the nearest roof. Upon landing several villager turned their weapons towards her, but all to slow for mutli-armed quickly draw, Formorta popping off several shots, each round penetrating the heads of her would be attackers, within moments the roof being cleared of all opposition. "Area cleared, commencing second objective".

Taking position on the now silent roof Formorta took aim with OL class rifle, eyeing up the current battle, the world seemingly slowing down as her cross hairs jumped from person to person, scanning the area for those that seemed to be in charge. It was different from usual, the Sith and First Order usually had officers in fine easy to spot attire, here though fighting against militia grade troops it was harder to spot those in command. A somewhat nice challenge but ultimately futile attempt as no sooner had her crimson eye zeroed in on the first in charge looking person, the zoom increasing as Formrota lined up a shot, "Catch".

A loud but against the raging battle soft thud could be heard as her rifle round careened through the air, penetrating with ease through the man's soft head, splattering brain and blood all over the wall. "Tango down, moving to next target".

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

​

Attn: [member="Kyle Raymus"] | [member="Kiso"] | [member="Skorvek"] | [member="The Matador"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Karl Halvorsen"] | [member="Aeron Tosh"]​

• Garadel
  Rebel Settlement on Edemar

"Look at what you've become," spoke the specter as the mental blast struck him, causing him to stagger. All around them, chaos seemed to unfold in slow motion. The warlord's companions, Formorta and Kyle Raymus were busy dealing with the villagers, or fighting ghosts of their own. The intelligence agent Aeron Tosh reported something about Jedi to the northeast, while some gunslinger was putting shot after shot into enemies. Wolfe's attention was focused on none of that.

"Look at what you've become," the specter had said, a mirror image of himself, before lashing out with fencing blade and lightsaber. Wolfe brought his own saber up in a Soresu stance, parrying both attacks, then stepping swiftly to the side. Somewhere, in his mind, he knew that this apparition was not real. That it was an illusion of some sort, or perhaps some Force sorcery of the Jedi. But the wave of hatred coming from the specter's creator, was overpowering.

Wolfe closed his eyes, straightening up and centering himself. Deep within, he reached for his past and there, he found his own, familiar hatred. He grasped at it like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline in the middle of the raging ocean. He took hold of it, focused it, sharpened it like a blade. In that hatred, he had found purpose, all those years ago. Purpose which drove everything he did. He found peace in that.

When he opened his eyes again, they burned with fierce intensity. "I have become what is necessary," Wolfe responded, his tone cold, but at the same time powerful, driven by a single overriding goal. Reaching out, he tried to mimic what the Jedi had done. He sent out his hatred against the injustices of the galaxy, against the atrocities of the Jedi and the Sith, against all the suffering and conflicts the rivalry between Light and the Dark had caused to the galaxy for untold eons. "The time has come to right the wrongs of the galaxy, to end the neverending cycle of destruction and to pass judgement against those who would perpetuate it," he said pouring the Force into his words, trying to somehow throw them at the hidden Jedi. "The time has come for you to pay for what you've done. I am here to carry out the sentence."

With that, Wolfe struck out at the apparition, switching from Soresu to Ataru, turning, his crackling black blade a spinning whirlwind of death as he struck at his enemy's defences once, then twice. Not waiting to see if his blade had struck, he immediately switched to Makashi, feinting left, then slashing diagonally from the right. The ghost was fast. But Wolfe had purpose. No Jedi mind trick would keep him from it, from his life's work. This was a test of faith. Of the Jedi's faith against Wolfe's own.

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

"Oh great. An amateur trying to do my job for me." Spotting Formorta leaping from the wall to a rooftop, herself a few hundred meters away on a similarly flat one. The outpost on Edemar had actually hired Priscilla, though she double-crossed the defending forces in favour of a higher credit reward but used the gaze of an ally to get a better position. The only person who had accompanied her was a singular villager who was now taking pot-shots at the raging battle below.

Priscilla gripped the under barrel of the rifle, extending the scope and lining up a shot. Pulling the trigger a tracer line of smoke quickly erupted from the barrel followed by the screaming of the shot before implanted directly into the skull of one of leaders. To be honest, she couldn't care if she had just shot a 'friendly' or an 'enemy', she was going to get paid regardless of who she killed today. Rather than put herself at the mercy of being shot at, she looked to the guard who had accompanied her and raised herself up. Still blindly shooting, Priscilla poked her at which she turned around. Before the woman could utter a word a thunderous punch connected with her face, causing her to lose her balance and fall down onto battleground below, possibly killing her or giving her debilitating injuries.

While she had no direct orders, she had been hired as a mercenary for this operation and continued lining shots up and firing indiscriminately into the crowd, each shot connecting with a defender's skull and sending their brain matter scattering across the ground.

Nearby: [member="Kainan Wolfe"] I [member="The Matador"] I [member="Kyle Raymus"] I [member="Kiso"] I [member="Skorvek"] I [member="Salij-Nekt"] I [member="Karl Halvorsen"] I @ Aeron Tosh

 

[Aeron Tosh]

Aeron Tosh was eerily calm for someone standing dead center of a battlefield. It even scared Aeron himself how calculating he could be in the heat of the moment. Once Aeron made it past the monstrous villagers he decided before he'd continue onward he'd help his fellow agent out.

Despite [member="Formorta"] being the most arrogant sniper he's ever worked with he had to give her a hand. He was obligated too as her partner. Aeron opened up the communication channel that only intelligence agents have access too and began telling the deadly sniper what her most important targets should be, and what they looked like. He did this until he safely identified all the leaders for her to shoot. Even though Aeron refused to be a killer he didn't mind aiding one.

Aeron continued following his tracker northeast.