Dominion The Night is Dark...|| Enclave Dominion of Talay Hex

[Isidor Justeene]

Objective: Escape and alert the Coalition of his situation
Location Kestri outdoors
Enemy Tags: Enclave
Ally Tags: Kraken Coalition
Neutral: Sith
Tag: Lahmia deWinter | Open
Special Tag: Cass Gemini

Now his instinct told him that he should run, run from a bad situation but his mind wasn't as sharp as it should be, he was now aware that he is alone, well no one else was nearby to deflect attention from himself. Everything wasn't going well now, he had hoped to get to an easily accessible point and be removed from Buckethead central, alas that was not to be, he was stuck.

He shook his head, clearing a very obvious migraine that had begun to rage behind his eyes, it's the cold, his head is getting cold or the stress was getting to him without him realising. Would not be at all surprising, those lights have made sleeping difficult, more so than it had been already. He would give anything to be back with the Coalition and especially Cass. Which, steeled his resolve to stand his ground, after all, his people are not known to turn and run.

He used his good hand to hold his sword in a defensive position, ready to strike if needed. He could feel his shoulder blade grind against something, his collarbone? Doesn't matter, what matters now is he needs to escape, signal Cass, get on board and give her kisses. He loves her deeply and no one is going to stop him from leaving this ice ball. Funny basic or no funny basic.

<"Who are you calling a Tart?!"> Isidor spat, suddenly realising what exactly she had said, focusing on the singular word 'Tart'. Now able to decipher her speech, that was an insult, a fancy insult that he only just noticed. Gods he hurts all over, he's in a middle of a storm and he's getting into a fight with a Queen. As he fumed at this, his resolve hardened, he was going to stand and fight.

 

[Lahmia deWinter]

Location: Kestri Jail​

"Most well. As thee are not inclined toward discourse, I shall indulge thy lust for blood as I share it 'i kind." Lahmia had survived centuries of bloodshed in a realm that did not bandy words at great length before battle was joined. In fact there had been a time her tongue had not been of a form capable of such, and no one much cared. Little concern was given you did not know the name of the one whose teeth were tearing pounds of flesh from your soon cold corpse.

A red hand reached out to one side and from the aether conjured a chakram to her grasp. "Pray thy next of kin feel thy passing so they never sit pining for what shall ne'r be." Her lips peeled back in a grin as her right foot slid back.

Lahmia shot down the corridor toward her prey with the circular instrument of death secured in hand. Time, it seemed, to test the quality of her latest opponent. How better to converse than by locking one another in a dance of death? It was the only true form of exchange. One without guile or subterfuge. They died or you died; as for the manner in which this occurred there were no rules or expectations. Though Lahmia would hope to sample his blood before it grew cool -- mammals were always the most delicious.

Tag: Isidor Justeene​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The blind Maliphant crawled based on what he could sense - what he could feel through the darkness. Mandalorians were closing in on him, no doubt utilizing bio trackers. Their distance was short, he could change it enough anyway to break it; but that wasn't his concern now. What concerned him in this very moment was that multiple outlets to the vents were either surrounded - or being assaulted with gas grenades and more. He could hold his breath for days; but with the Ysalamiri here it would be restricted to only a few minutes.​

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All he could do was strive for the light at the end of the tunnel - the sweet embrace of Srina Talon . Surely any Sith could save him - more than all of them were capable, but the Dread Queen herself had more reason to save him than simple tactical advantage or command from their Emperor. She loved him, they had a life together; were there anyone to do everything necessary to save him, it would be her. There was the smallest smile driven by hope on his lips as he kicked another vent open.​

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As he crawled out - there would be no Mandalorians besides some dead from other infiltrators. Amidst their bodies were some of those very infiltrators. Maliphant could feel the timer on their bodies - the force ritual that would make their skin turn to ash and bone before the night was through. It would save them some traces on the planet - but again, the Lord Maliphant needed not concern himself with such yet.​

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Instead, he'd sprint down the corridor to where he could feel salvation. First corner, second - then the shots and shouts came from behind. Third, fourth and they'd get closer; he could practically feel them breathing down his neck as he rounded the last. Before him was the alabaster seductress herself - the woman he had sworn himself too.​

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Srina Talon - who would see Maliphant, the wounds upon his eyes and the bandage over them, the scars across his skin, and the ever looming presence of a squad of Mandalorians.​

 

[Siv Dragr]

D A R K N E S S
T H E M E

Objective: Fight the Sith Infiltrators
Allies: Stone Gra'tua | Kranak Vizsla | Thonn Rokkal | Sergeant Omen
Enemies: Darth Empyrean | Taeli Raaf | Kimora Min | UX-0626 | Joycelyn Zambrano
Engaging: Darth Carnifex

Instinctively Siv slid to avoid the projectiles that Carnifex hurled at him. Four of them passed by him harmlessly, but two ricocheted off of his armor, easily breaking. At first Siv thought that he had been the luck of some shoddy metalsmithing, but he quickly realized that was their design. They expanded rapidly into a hard, concrete-like substance, and Siv had to dance back to avoid being crushed or engulfed by the material. The blocks fell to the floor loudly, leaving Siv a few paces further back than he had been before but otherwise unharmed.

Only to see Carnifex running away.

"Tricks aren't going to save you!" Siv called after the fleeing Dark Lord before he keyed his jetpack onlet with a quick input into his gauntlet. The jetpack ignited in a spurt of flame before it propelled him forward, nearly matching Carnifex's speed but not quite. Siv didn't need to match Carnifex's speed, though.

That was what the tarka'yayr electrowhip was for. Siv watched the beskar-cortosis filament shoot out from his gauntlet towards Carnifex's torso. If it reached him succesfully, it would wrap around and immediately begin delivering pulsing shocks of electricity, a sensation that the Dark Lord would remember from Panatha. If not, Siv would narrowly avoid completely tumbling to the ground as he cut the power to his jetpack, sliding around a sharp turn in the corridor. "You say I'm the failure, yet you're the one running," he shouted in desperation.
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[Venn Kolis]

His eyes wouldn't stop stinging.

The young man stumbled through the snow, the squall's icy blast slowing his progress to no end. The stolen black robes he wore over his tattered grey jacket did little to keep out the biting chill. But it wasn't the snowflakes or the wind or the freezing temperature that caused his eyes to twitch and burn. Because they'd been burning for weeks.

Venn had first noticed his eyes hurting in the course of his pilgrimage to the planet of the Ancient Sith, Korriban. As he'd tangled with the dreaded Force Being Drengir, and fought to steal the secret of Sith Sealing from their hive mind, he'd thought perhaps the pain in his eyes might be the symptom of a psychic attack. But he'd escaped Korriban and the Drengir, however narrowly. And still his vision had pained him.

He'd washed with a Kolto salve, twice, and meditated for hours. Nothing had availed him. He'd returned to the Temple Magnus, excited to develop his new Sith Sealing, and pondered over whether the pain in his eyes was worth mentioning. But surely, he'd be mocked for wasting time whining over such a trivial thing-

Gone.

Maliphant. They'd taken him. They'd taken him away while Venn had been wasting his time frolicking in desert ruins and fighting dream plants. They'd taken him and left Venn alone. Again.

But a Sith does not bow to Destiny.

This was the first lesson Maliphant had taught him. A Sith rebels against the Great Tyrant. He does not lower his head and accept the cruelty of existence. Such meekness was a venomous pox that Venn had long since been rid of. Darth Carnifex , the man who'd burned Venn's home and murdered his family and stolen him from his peaceful life, had assembled his forces to recover Darth Empyrean . And Venn had deployed with them.

The front edifice of the Karjr Headquarters was pockmarked by huge holes, inside each of which was nestled a Sith assault pod. Wishing he'd had the foresight to stow away in one of those craft and not a support shuttle, Venn discovered that the front doors were opened. Someone else had come tramping up to the door through the snow.

Whoever they were, they were probably dressed warmer than Venn. Crouching just inside the front entrance, the apprentice reached into the darkside to call fire to his hands. A few embers would warm him up in no time....

Nothing happened. He reached out to his emotions again, and again, panic rising in his chest. Pyrokinesis was, functionally, Venn's only Force technique; the only thing he'd ever shown truly innate talent in. And now he was on the Mandalorian homeworld, carrying no weapon, and unable to summon his fire. This situation couldn't get much worse.

"Lord Maliphant. Come to me."
"He is mine. He will come to me."

The second voice rolled over Venn like a wave of frost and hatred. Colder than the blizzard the boy had braved outside, colder than Maliphant's own presence, colder than anything Venn had ever felt in his life. Her unfamiliar tones were so powerful that they likely would have knocked Venn to the prison's iron floor.... if the first voice hadn't already reduced him to a shivering mess on the ground.

Because Venn knew that horrid whisper. He'd heard that grasping scrape before, like a Mynock's shattered carcass being agonizingly dragged through the ventral intake of a freighter. That voice had needled at the back of Venn's mind and driven the boy to madness, driven him to murder, and taught him his very first lesson in what it meant to be Sith.

The Twice-Emperor had spoken.

Fighting his way to his feet, Venn struggled to slow his breathing. Carnifex was unreasonably scary, but he was not an enemy. Not today, and hopefully not ever. Venn surveyed his surroundings, calmer now. The entry hall of the prison was deserted- except for all the corpses. He could hear fighting up ahead, which was likely the Kainites engaging the enemy. But there was another sound as well, a rhythmic cadence; marching! of... what sounded like a squad of battle droids? But, Temple Magnus hadn't deployed any droid forces that Venn was aware of. Another Sith Lord, maybe? And then Venn remembered that frozen second voice. The unknown woman who'd actually talked back to the Dark Lord. Today there were players in this game that Venn didn't have any idea about.

And for some reason, that made him angry. A sulfurous yellow was swirling into Venn's vibrant green eyes, threatening to choke out their natural color. The hyperventilation was beginning again, in heavy snorting breaths, only now it was born of equal parts fear and rage.

Carnifex, with his legions and councilors! The Woman in Frost, with her confidence to speak contrary to the Emperor's will! How could anyone with those resources, that influence, that raw power, possibly need Maliphant more than him?! The boy who had no one!

Only a novice in the force, Venn had no idea how to speak directly to the mind, the way these titans had. But he couldn't stay silent. Maliphant was here. Venn would find him. With no laser sword or sorcery or even a plan to speak of, the apprentice took off in a desperate sprint into the depths of the Mandalorian prison, following the sting in his eyes. And when he screamed out, he poured all his anguish and fear and seething indignation into his cry, physically amplifying his shout a thousand-fold, to blast through the austere bloodstained halls, and echo in every ear.

"Master! Where are you?!"

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Darth Empyrean
Darth Carnifex
Srina Talon

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The electrowhip snapped taut, slipping around not the Dark Lord but rather his discarded cloak that had paradoxically taken his place as he spun around the bend in the corridor. Removed of his cloak, the Dark Lord wore unornamented protective armor interwoven with priestly vestments emblazoned with Sith symbols and runic hieroglyphs. After performing his feat of misdirection, Demiurge flipped through the air before landing on both feet and wheeling to face the encroaching Mandalorian gunslinger.

"Ah, Mandalorian, Mandalorian. So focused on the superficial." His lightsaber slipped into his open hand, fingers curling around the hilt as a beam of sickly green energy ignited with a snarling snap-hiss. "That perhaps it never occurred to you as to why Darth Carnifex would run away from an open challenge. My other half inherited the more martial aspects of our prior existence, He truly embodies that Epicanthix spartanism."

He inclined his upper body slightly, mimicking a bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Siv Dragr. My name is Demiurge."

A twitch of a finger and the previously discarded cloak, now partially singed by the Mandalorian's electrowhip, began to writhe and move of its own accord. Black smoke billowed out from beneath the cloak, enveloping it and the surrounding corridor in impenetrable darkness. From the blackness emerged tendrils of pulsating dark energy, appearing to move independently in all directions but slaved to the will of the man who conjured them.

Suddenly, the tendrils rushed forward to try and envelope, to engulf, Siv Dragr in their inky black embrace. Summoning and controlling the tendrils required a large amount of concentration, a task that was easier done when undertaken by an experienced Sith Sorcerer such as Demiurge or his counterpart Carnifex. With maximum concentration and energy, the tendrils could annihilate any matter that came into contact with it. However, Demiurge deliberately weakened his own tendrils to ensnare rather than obliterate.

It would still be incredibly painful nonetheless.

"It would go easier if you did not resist. Embrace the darkness."

Siv Dragr | Darth Empyrean | Srina Talon | Venn Kolis ​