Populate The Optimates and The Populares | Tsis'Kaar and SO Populate of Eishandruu Pica

[Aspect of Victory]

Dorvalla.

The planet of the Tsis'Kaar's victory over the Galactic Alliance only some moons ago. On the frontlines of the renewed war against the Alliance, with only neighbouring Echnos to be considered a neighbour of particular note. The evidence of the Alliance's invasion of the world had been cleared away, the tunnels cleared up of rubble and corpses, and mining ventures continuing without delay to feed the ever-bustling war machine, while atop the world, layers after layers of defences were prepared, with a mighty garrisoning fleet ready to repel any renewed assault.

Suffice it to say, with the increasing militarisation of the world, with its status as a mining world, and the near presence of the ever if ironically more hospitable Echnos, this was where celebrations were to be held to herald the end of the year, was… odd, to say the least.

Yet, considering who organised such celebrations, some insight was gained. The youngest of the Dark Councillors, the youngest who had ever achieved the position, had sent out invitations to the great and mighty Sith Lords across the Empire, from the capital of Jutrand, to far-off Korriban, yet, such was not the traditional event of merry and celebration that took place upon either world, instead, the invitation was for different aims.

The scion of the Lord of Duty was acting in his role as Lord Inquisitor and Lord of the Tsis'Kaar, a celebration to be had over past victories on Dorvalla and of Echnos, and a place for announcements to be made, announcements which promised renewal and promise for the Tsis'Kaar, the Sith Order, and the Imperium itself as they entered the precipice of a new year. As battle continued to rage upon the border, in nearby Eiattu Six in particular, the Sith should come to celebrate, where the true danger lay. Some already privately mused it was a grim joke, the exact series of events which had played out on Abraxas, deep in its own mines.

The High Inquisitors were assembled to Dorvalla, some of them shrouded in darkness, others enlightened by what was planned, while the agents of the Tsis'Kaar high and low entered, garbed and proud, they would feel the music begin to drum along the stone walls of the same tunnels which had seen the bloodletting against Jedi and Alliance troopers alike. Those who accepted the invitation were greeted by the Old and Marr Guard garrisons on the surface, and taken into the depths of the planet's innards, where they were greeted with quite the sight.

A specially carved-out hall, an empty stage, the black Ouroboros circling the darkened hex charm, the very symbol of the Tsis'Kaar, brought out on large display. As tables and seats were assembled, room was made in the centre as if lilies in a sea of black and red, room for dancing and revelry, all the while the drinks liberally flowed. For all the mystery which the event heralded, for all which lay underneath the covers.

It was a party, mingle, and celebrate, for the great year the Sith have had, and for the great year the Sith shall continue to have. However, within an hour, the purpose of this gathering would be revealed.

(This thread is meant to be something of a launch party, so everyone has 48 hours to do their introduction posts and get involved, before we get down to business, hope everyone has fun!)

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Even he had to admit the morbidness of it all.

A battle had been waged here not so long ago, a battle they had won, so in all senses of the word he should have been happy... yet, even if the battle had been won through traditional means, it would not have undercut the morbidity of holding a party at the scene of where it had taken place. Yet, as he walked along the tunnels, it was remarkably simply how...

...Clean it all was.

The blood, the corpses, the armour, and the weaponry, all disposed of, the strangest part of it was even... the lack of dust, for all this was a cave, it was entirely too clean. Still, that was what it had taken to make this place, as queer as it was to host celebration, ready for the entrance of many Sith Lords.

Sith Lords coming to drink, dance, and celebrate atop the tomb of where he and his co-apprentice had crushed the Jedi and their soldiers underfoot, under thousands of tons of rubble, stone, and rock. That was perhaps what made the cleanliness itself so morbid... in the way that they had fought that battle.

The series of campaigns that had accompanied the Alliance's invasion had all been morbid in their own way, in some sense the campaign on Dorvalla had been the cleanest, civilian casualties had been kept to a minimum by the sheer necessity of fighting in cleared out mining tunnels... all the while the fighting on Echnos had featured the use of a Phobis Device, in a place filled with civilians, the Alliance striking a city, and the Sith choosing to defend one... all the while Sluis Van.

He stopped along the wall, one hand pressed against the mask, while the other against the wall, breathing out softly.

The less said of Sluis Van the better.

Even if in some sense of the word, that was why he was here, that was why he had sent out his invitations, gathering the Tsis'Kaar here, and decked these halls with the banners of the Ouroboros circling the Hex Charm. It should not have been Sluis Van which had brought about these preperations, it should have been Tion, Makem Te before that, Ferie Junction before that, the Caldera Crisis before that.

The fall of the Tenth Empire before all that.

In some way, he had always been preparing for this, and now it would simply be a test of if he could accomplish all which was necessary.

Necessary...

He played the words of the speech he had spent days preparing back over his head, again, and again, as he walked along the silent mined out corridors, as with every step, the music strummed along the walls, an echo of the beginning festivities, some had already arrived, others were still arriving, it would not do for their host to not be in attendance.

He gave silent prayer to... something. After all the only God that existed, actively hated him, and likely would do him no favours...

...Still he would appreciate all the help he could get.

Red eyes brightened considerably as they reached the end of the hall, a lone chandelier hung high atop the ceiling, its crystalline make reflecting the light of artifical lights, as it shingled mesmerisingly in the air, falling down from such high heights, the Ourboros' fangs made earnest effort for the bait of its tail, circling the symbol of the Sith Empire, as the music of their people fluttered across the air with the weight to bring anvil to heart.

Armoured hulks, silent and disciplined, of the Guard, Marr and Old stood in quiet observation of all who filled the room, their weapons holstered, but ready to intervene in any scuffle, as the large circular room opened away to tables and chairs, the centre open to dancing couples beneath the shimmer of roofboard decoration, food sat plattered and plated, as goblets and chalices of wine and liquor were liberally poured.

Far off, opposite the entrance, an empty stage had been assembled, bespectled in glittering ornament.

He allowed himself another breath, he had come a long way since his inability to dance at formal balls, but even now, after all he had done, giving a speech of all things, had his nerves in knots.

Perhaps in the end, it was not the speech itself which had him so disadvantaged... only the thoughts of the import of the words he desired to impart.

Ansisa

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

​

The Nightsister Matriarch found herself tired of staying home. She spent most of her time on Dathomir teaching the young, and traveling to Malsheem through its cosmic link through the Holy Bone Temple. Potions and worship, prayers and incantations, being mentor and Mommy, a gal simply must break from the mold once in a while! After the ordeal with Kaila Irons, it is certainly time to kick back and unwind. A chance to escape obligations, to a shindig with a layout of great food and music, what else could she ask for? She thought about meeting new faces of the order many times, afterall, shouldn't she mingle for her own good? Navigating the physical realm is all about making strong allies…equally as much as it is knowing how to do some truly awesome shite to protect you and your's.

As usual, an unknown fact (except by those who would soon be forced to forget their awareness) the Mistress of the Netherworld wore many potions about her bodice, hidden safely within beautiful crystal buttons, which lace up her party dress.

She materialized in a whirlwind of glistening smoke, descending upon the estate from across the realms in an ethereal carriage, racing past the estate gates, pulled by a team of prized undead Pegasi. The coach driver, a gangly and proud spirit, landed the rig and lead the beasties to where the house servants directed, before dismounting to gingerly take the gloved hand of the Mistress. The driver guided her steps towards the reception, while the team of beasties stomped and snorted at any who thought to approach them.

She entered with others, standing aside until it was her turn to be announced to the other guests. She hopes she too could learn some names.
​

 

[Ansisa]

Outfit

It came as no surprise to Ansisa, that the death and destruction that had been wrought in these caves had been so easily scrubbed away. The sith excelled at cleaning up their mess when required, afterall, how else could they eradicate entire regimes and neatly place themselves in their stead?

Her gaze wandered the vast cavern chosen as tonight's venue, searching the guests for any signs of enmity, only half listening to the lieutenant that was standing in front of her, babbling about some mission he was seemingly proud of. She didn't care, but then she had never been painted as the people person among their ranks.

Slender fingers encased in black and silver gloves lifted her wine glass to her lips, as she allowed herself a small sip before she felt him arriving. There was a nervousness about him. That, she could not allow.

Excusing herself briskly, she skirted around the edge of the room to the entrance, the soft click of her boots against the stone floor heralding her approach from behind the man that held her heart forever in his grasp.

Ansisa slid her arm through Malum's, a small smile playing on her lips. “Are those nerves I can feel from our Lord and Leader?” She teased gently, squeezing his arm. “Certainly not?”

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Of Caves and Converstations
Immediate Goals -
1: Stand there
1.1: Look Pretty
1.1.2: Stand there while looking pretty.
2: Have some lighthearted conversations with your estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr
2.1: Have some difficult conversation with your soon-to-be even more estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - OPEN FREQUENCY

---

Trayze Tesar never liked formal functions - sure the Kiffar enjoyed raucous celebration, and even the odd charity lotto back during his time on the Peacekeeping force, but never something that warranted a suit and tie...

There were many things that Trayze didn't like about the Sith, despite serving faithfully as the enforcer of laws - but he simply did because, well, they were more honest about their dealings. With a Sith, you knew you were being played, and you certainly knew you were being stabbed - and for the longest time, Trayze was contented with that, being pragmatically Sith.

Of course, pragmatism doesn't help when you risked your life time and again, when you exploded your lightsaber before Valery Noble on Yavin IV, and you lingered between life and death.

For the inadequacies he felt, being related to someone who had succeeded so much more while he still remained an Acolyte, for the thoughts of the future, what he would teach his children, what would happen to him after he passed...

Trayze may not have been as successful as the Triumvir-slaying Lord High Inquisitor of the Tsis'Kaar, but he did not sit idly by. In fact that was why he was here.

Pragmatism and learning how to will a rock to bash a bloke's face harder was well and good, but there were larger things at play, larger things that he had to name. Larger things he had to discover, on his own.

Without Malum.

Pragmatism dictated that Malum wouldn't miss him - after all, he hadn't been much of a war hero outside of his little stint on Kathol - and even then, it was Malum who had rallied the Tsis'kaar to what it was today. Trayze barely had anything to do with that.

But it was politeness - or not wanting to seem like a deadbeat dad who "left to go get bluemilk" - or perhaps, that childish urge that he thought well and truly squashed in Police Academy that compelled him to be here, despite not partaking in any of the battles.

Trayze knew better than most how grounding family can be, but also how suffocating it can be - and tonight was the night to assess which path Trayze would take...

 

[Zari Daal]

​

The first thought Zari had of Dorvalla was how much like Ryloth it was.

His kind was much accustomed to living in the caverns that stretched underground, and it was why he felt a sense of calm as he had descended underground into the great hall where this celebration was to take place.

The Twi'lek had arrived quietly and without fanfare; he was no Force user and certainly no Sith Lord, but rather a potential extension of their shadows, a fresh ear lended to their houses.

The Twi'lek scooped a chalice from a nearby waiter and took a healthy sip of dark red wine. Being very familiar with such work, he gave a wink to the waiter and moved on, his head turned up as he studied very old and very elegant fixtures that had been moved into the cavern to liven it up for the Tsis'Kaar command.

It really was beautiful.

And then there was the string music starting, plucked by the hands of very beautiful women in dark or crimson gowns, their eyes closed as they found inspiration in themselves and returned it to their guests.

That sort of work, Zari understood too.

His lekku swayed gently to their rhythms as he stood still and scanned the crowd, his simple black poncho shifting as he raised an arm to sip his wine.

It was possible the Twi'lek was looking for someone in particular - a Kiffar who had facilitated his release very recently. He felt a wave of nerves and took a rather large sip of his wine - and then his eyes fell on the man he had hoped would show.

Trayze was only just arriving, greeting his family. Zari would wait, and allow him to settle in among the agents and High Inquisitors before he stole him away for personal time.

 

[Nerralyn Raaf]

A party in a mine was an odd choice, even if it had been chosen for some sort of symbolic message of victory over their enemies. There were a myriad number of locations, even on this mining world, to have a better party location in her opinion, but perhaps there was some other underlying reason for Darth Marr to select the location. Regardless, she had come as a representative of another Dark Councilor who typically avoided these affairs unless the family was hosting them. Lucette had come along, although she was unsure why her niece wanted to come along to this affair.

Her interest in the refreshments on hand or the dancing was minimal currently, even if the band playing was certainly competent. Her violet eyes, so much like her mother's slowly passed over the slowly building crowd of Tsis'Karr and Inquisition members and other guests, memorizing who was there and who wasn't yet or if they wouldn't come at all. A small frown formed as she regarded the ouroboros symbol, thinking about how that symbol had caused so much grief in the Sith before and how, even now, the hosts of this event had caused no end of headaches for her family and the Sith in general. The stage suggested a speech might be on hand later, perhaps the new Lord Inquisitor outlining his plans. That, really, was what she and her mother might find more interesting.

So now she found herself at one of the tables, datapad open, a game of Age of Chaos going on the prototype Holonet client that her mother had gotten her alpha permissions to test and thinking about the baked goods that were no doubt in the ovens at the estate on Dosuun, her mother overseeing the kitchen. Brownies, no doubt, considering the time of year... yes, she could go for one of those right about now.

Open to interactions​

 

[Lucette]

The venue of choice did little to inspire Ivalyn’s enthusiasm, though it made an excellent cover for her disinterest. She barely stifled a sigh as she glanced around the room, filled with muted conversations and an air of stiff propriety that she found particularly grating. Accompanying her aunt Nerralyn to yet another dull affair was not her idea of an engaging evening, but it offered a reprieve from her sisters—a small mercy.

The teenager’s real focus, however, wasn’t the event itself but the small, plastic container she had smuggled along. Inside, her prize: brownies, carefully sneaked from the kitchens and kept warm in their Tupperware fortress. The faint scent of chocolate comforted her during the uneventful ride to this...Dorvalla? Drovalla? Whatever the place was called, it didn’t matter. What mattered was Age of Chaos, the newest game consuming everyone’s attention, including her cousin Kai and his insufferable siblings. Losing to them? Unthinkable. She had to learn the game, master it, and crush them with a decisive victory.

Sliding into a chair opposite her aunt, she adopted her most winsome smile. “Auntie,” she began sweetly, her voice dripping with faux innocence, “I’ll trade you brownies for a lesson in this rather mundane game.” With an exaggerated flourish, she set the container down in front of Nerralyn, the warm scent wafting upward like a peace offering.

Then, without waiting for an answer, she plopped down with a casual defiance that betrayed just how serious she was about the bargain. Folding her arms on the table, she leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, Auntie. Think of it as a fair trade. Your wisdom in exchange for these culinary delights. Everyone wins.”

Nerralyn Raaf | Open to Interaction ​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Dorvalla
With: Lucette | Nerralyn Raaf l
Tag: Quinn Varanin

The clatter of heels upon the stone floor advertised her arrival for all who cared to notice. A woman few would recognise outside their Academy textbooks, whose uniform was crisp and tailored, blonde hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her smooth skin seemed to glow in the artificial light, and a smattering of staff walked a handbreadth behind the trailing edge of her crimson cloak. She entered the cavern, sharp emerald gaze flitting from guest to honoured guest. Watching. Appraising.

The woman had been known by many titles: Governor, Procurator, Grand Vizier… Senator. And perhaps soon, Minister. Whatever the role, within the Empire or beyond its borders, Madelyn Lowe had always been the model of Sith Imperialism. One of the famed commanders of the old Empire, for better or worse.

Madelyn had spent the last decade in isolation, building herself up from the ruin that the Alliance had left her. The collapse of her life, her family. What was left resembled the great woman of the Tenth Sith Empire, had her mannerisms, her striking features. But it was a shell, a hollow thing.

This did not bother Madelyn. Her servitude was but circumstance. It was what allowed her to walk the halls of this stone fortress, what kept her mind sharp and her skin supple. Her blood flowed richly with life and power, thanks to Him. Besides, she’d grown bored of Malsheem’s metallic halls. She longed for her home, for Varonat, and for something to do, something that would challenge her. The last years had been spent in mourning, then quiet study and service. Order and monotony. Madelyn longed for something messy.

She was certain she would have no trouble finding that here.

For her part, Madelyn did not mind the strange choice of setting. It made her think of the emergency bunkers and staging grounds they had occupied in the closing months of the Schism that had eventually become the war that tore apart the Tenth Empire. Months spent without daylight, without air. In that way, the venue was perhaps a touch more symbolic than even their host had intended.

Madelyn looked around with interest. Who to visit first? From what she knew of Darth Malum, the man had that oh-so-common Sith flair for the dramatic. No doubt he would leave some time before getting to the main event. So, she had time to kill. Stars, how long had it been since she’d mingled? It was shaping up to be a truly exciting evening.

A pair of women sitting at a table at the back of the hall caught her eye, and Madelyn came over, giving a pearly smile once she had been noticed. There was something strangely familiar about the both of them.

"My name is Madelyn." she pleasantly. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Many entered through the doors, most he could not put name to face, most he knew from mere appearance that they were not of noble birth, in fact that was likely mostly due to the amount of Tsis'Kaar agents that poured through the doors. It was unfortunately not an event that which could call for all the Tsis'Kaar to emerge out from across the galaxy... truly, there was no event which would call for such a thing, not even the Ouroboros Crisis, which had demanded the mustering and mobilisation of Tsis'Kaar assets from across the galaxy had truly brought all its manpower back within Imperial boundaries.

But, all would see it nonetheless, the ones able to be reassigned here for this celebration firsthand, the rest would see the live transmission he had set up, the rest the recordings that would filter down the ranks. They had been directionless, simply executing their mindless duty for so long...

...That had been the way of the Assassins, apolitical, simply acting for the Darkside, for the Sith.

Naive to believe, that they could be a force of status quo, simply a force of being... when in fact as the Tsis'Kaar that rose from the ashes of the fall of the Assassins had revealed, for as much as they could simply maintain, for as much as they could record and preserve.

For a structure that was rotting from the seams, it took action far beyond simple reform.

"Presenting Pom Stych of House Tivé, Governess of Dathomir, Matriarch of the Wanica Coven, and Lady of the Malsheem."

His gaze flicked to the announcement, many had rung out across the cavern, but it might have been the first to catch his attention. So it seemed that the Kainite representative to the proceedings had arrived... or at least one of them, he would not put it past actual Zambranos to make for attendance at place which they were invited, but clearly little welcomed.

"Presenting Lady Nerralyn of House Raaf, Overseer of the Imperial Academy of Jutrand, and her niece, Lady Lucette of House Fortan."

That would be the Raaf delegation. The daughter... and the granddaughter, if memory served. It had been neither of them that had been caught up in his co-apprentice's gambit, but there was little doubt they thought him complicit in such action, and gazing about, towards the once Inquisitors that had been absorbed into the Tsis'Kaar's ranks, there was a possibility that there were those actually complicit in those events in attendance.

That his fellow Dark Councillor still sent delegation, was a promising sign. He only wondered if the Mother of Monsters would herself be in attendance, or indeed, if he would be witnessing a delegation from the Lechners to match.

"Presenting Madelyn of House Lowe, Former Grand Vizier of the Sith Empire."

Lowe... that was an unexpected name. He had never met the woman, and her time of prominence was an Empire ago, one could not even be sure that such figures were still alive in the giant galaxy of theirs.

Yet, it seemed that one of the most famous loyalist Imperials still yet lived.

Now it was only a question of who she was loyal to.

He flinched for barest moment as an arm serpentine like coiled itself around his own, as instincts flared demanding his free hand take Shikkar hidden beneath his robes to strike, only to freeze. Gazing into rubies that were as ever like his own, a face of sapphires that were as beautiful as the gems, a form at his side, whom he might have done anything for, should she simply ask.

Her smile softened bloodshot eyes that had hardly been able to sleep as this day approached closer and closer.

"It is unfair, I cannot exactly hide how I am feeling from you," He replied, a small pout expressing itself through his lips, as his opposite hand, rather than taking the dagger, found itself gently holding her arm, "As for those nerves... can you blame me?"

He always had walked a tightrope, never before had those words felt more appropriate.

Ansisa Pom Stych Tivé Trayze Tesar Nerralyn Raaf Lucette Madelyn Lowe

 

[Reicher Vax]

Dorvalla
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: OPEN

"A new dawn for the Empire."​

Reicher Vax strode through the grandly carved halls of the Dorvalla gathering, his crimson visor scanning the crowd of Sith Lords, agents, and guards that filled the chamber. The stark black and red of the Tsis'Kaar's emblem loomed above them, a reminder of the power they served and sought to wield. Reicher's armor was polished to perfection, bearing the scars of countless battles as badges of honor. He moved with purpose, though his demeanor carried a calm distinct from the sharp intensity of most Sith warriors.

He paused near a group of Old Guard and Marr Guard troopers stationed by one of the hall's arched entrances. Their armor was battle-worn but meticulously maintained, their posture as rigid and disciplined as ever. Reicher approached, nodding slightly to acknowledge their presence.

"Vax," one of them said, breaking into a rare grin under his helmet. The soldier removed it, revealing the face of Corporal Haren, an old comrade from their days on Alvaria. "Didn't think you'd show up for this… celebration."

"Duty called, I am a governor now." Reicher replied evenly, though a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "It's rare to see the Order throwing a party instead of planning the next battle. Figured I'd see what all the fuss was about, that and I owe it to Lord Marr to be here."

Another trooper, Sergeant Rilith, chimed in with a chuckle. "You mean you wanted to see how much free booze they could fit in these tunnels."

"Call it recon," Reicher shot back dryly, eliciting a round of quiet laughter from the guards. He leaned slightly against a nearby pillar, the sound of revelry and muted conversation providing a strange counterpoint to the grim setting. "What do you make of all this?" he asked, gesturing to the hall with a slight tilt of his head.

"It's… unusual," Haren admitted. "The Tsis'Kaar don't strike me as the type to throw a ball just for the hell of it. There's something more going on."

"There's always something more going on," Rilith added, her tone sharper. "But whatever it is, it's above our pay grade."

Reicher nodded, his expression thoughtful beneath the helmet he had removed. "True enough. But it's our pay grade that'll be called on to clean up any messes they make." His gaze swept across the crowd, pausing briefly on the Sith Lords in their elaborate robes and the agents mingling with precision and poise. "Still, it's a rare chance to see this many power players in one place. We should enjoy the calm while it lasts, Sith aren't known to stay calm for long."

The guards exchanged glances, their camaraderie evident despite the weight of their roles. "And you, Vax?" Haren asked. "What's your take? What do you think they'll announce?"

Reicher's smirk faded, replaced by the measured calm of a soldier accustomed to uncertainty. "Something big," he said simply. "A shift, maybe he announces the Third Legion. Maybe in strategy, maybe in leadership. Whatever it is, it'll ripple across the Empire. Best to keep your ears open and your boots ready to move."

As the troopers absorbed his words, Reicher glanced toward the central stage where the announcement would soon be made. The faintest glimmer of unease flickered through him, but he buried it beneath the iron discipline that defined him.

"Stay sharp," he told the guards as he pushed off the pillar. "Enjoy the drinks, but not too much. I have a feeling we'll all need clear heads before the night's through."

​

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Underground Ballroom - Dorvalla
Attire: White Outfit
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber - Purple Blade │ Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield │ FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
Tag: Darth Imperius

As one of the few non-Sith invited to attend the event, Ellissanthia might have felt out of place were it not for her connection to Darth Imperius and to the host himself—Darth Malum. They were her reason for being there—two Sith Lords who had seen her and decided that she was worth keeping in close proximity, if only by virtue of her skills, perceived beauty, or some other redeeming quality that she possessed. Whatever said quality was, it allowed her to enter the venue with only a slight nod from the guards, at which point melodious string music streamed into her webbed ears as she made her way inside.

Taking in the ballroom, Ellissanthia caught sight of Darth Malum first, his attention captured by a Chiss woman of striking appearance. The Undine gave a slight frown then, her nostrils flaring with restrained envy before she shook her head and turned her focus elsewhere. She needed to locate the Dark Lord. Thus, her violet-hued gaze scanned across the ballroom in scrutinizing fashion, but found no hint of the nine-foot-tall titan who she had hoped to link up with for the evening.

Giving a low sigh, Elissanthia made her way deeper into the ball, before gracefully stepping aside for a passing Sith Lady who maneuvered around her without acknowledging her presence.

As was her right.

Nevertheless, Ellissanthia soon found refuge in the music. A pale Nagai harpist dressed in a crimson gown played a slow, balladic tune on her flower-engraved, electrum-coated instrument, slender fingers plucking the strings in artful fashion as her music carried across the venue. The short-statured Undine allowed herself a slight smile then. However, she dared not let her attention stay focused solely on the music for long.

This was a room of daggers and snakes, neither of which she could afford to turn her back to.

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: @Open,

Dorvalla

The name resonated in the air like a dull chime, a reminder of the Tsis'Kaar's triumph over the Galactic Alliance. Darth Callidus stepped from the shuttle into the cold embrace of the planet's depths, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of industry and faint echoes of past violence. This was no ordinary world; it was one shaped by ambition, shadow, and purpose—the hallmarks of the Tsis'Kaar. Her purpose.

The greeting party of the Old and Marr Guards was formal, their postures rigid with respect, though she sensed a quiet unease in their movements. It amused her. The Tsis'Kaar thrived on the unseen—the unspoken—and she relished their mastery of deception and control. Yet, as her amber eyes swept across the shadowed expanse of the grand hall carved into the planet's depths, a flicker of discontent sparked within her.

This gathering was antithetical to everything they stood for.

The hall was stunning in its theatrics, with the black Ouroboros dominating the chamber, an ever-watchful emblem of the Tsis'Kaar's power and purpose. Tables of crimson and black sprawled out like veins in a darkened body, coursing with the lifeblood of the Sith Order: its Lords, agents, and schemers. The music pulsed with a hypnotic rhythm, filling the cavern with a palpable energy, while laughter, murmurs, and veiled threats echoed through the stone. It was a performance of power and excess, and Callidus found it both impressive and distasteful.

She moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her presence commanding without demanding. Her black robes swirled like smoke around her form, each step a deliberate act of quiet dominance. She exchanged faint nods with fellow members of the Tsis'Kaar, their subtle acknowledgments carrying layers of unspoken understanding. Unlike others, she held no illusions about this gathering—it was a charade, a spectacle to distract and mislead.

And therein lay her frustration.

The Tsis'Kaar did not need grand stages or public declarations. They thrived in silence, in shadows, where whispers toppled empires and a single unseen move shifted the course of destiny. This overt display, while tactically sound in its outward message to the Sith Order, felt like an indulgence that risked undermining their purpose. True power was not worn like a crown; it was wielded like a blade in the dark.

Finding her way to a quieter corner of the hall, Callidus observed the room with a mixture of admiration and disapproval. The scion of the Lord of Duty, the young and ambitious Dark Councillor, was playing a dangerous game. Celebrations of victory and promises of renewal had their place, but here, beneath the weight of the planet's stone, they felt more like a provocation than a proclamation.

Her amber eyes lingered on the empty stage, the black Ouroboros coiled above it, waiting to strike. No doubt the announcements to come would be impressive, bold declarations meant to inspire and galvanize. Yet, she could not suppress the thought that such a gathering painted a target on their backs. To revel openly was to invite scrutiny, and scrutiny was the enemy of secrecy.

Still, she was no fool. She would not voice her misgivings, not here, not now. The Tsis'Kaar were her kin, her chosen purpose within the Sith Order. She reveled in their methods, in the quiet domination they wielded over the galaxy. And though this gathering grated against her sensibilities, she would watch, listen, and adapt.

Leaning against a pillar, her gloved fingers tracing the edge of her lightsaber, she let the drumming music and muted conversations wash over her. She did not join the revelry, but neither did she turn away from it. Her expression was a mask of detached curiosity, hiding the sharp mind that cataloged every face, every gesture, every word.

For all her misgivings, Callidus knew that even here, in this den of light and sound, the shadows still thrived. And it was in those shadows where she would remain, waiting for the moment to strike—not with a shout, but with the whisper of a blade.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Dress or suit, that was always the question.

The answer for this evening? Dress. It was a party, was it not? To celebrate Darth Malum's.. Well, in truth she wasn't too sure what the specifics were. That was the point, wasn't it? A congregation so they might hear what it is the new Lord Inquisitor had to say. She chuckled at the thought. Was this where her own Inquisitorious went in her absence? Did it only share in name and purpose, but was in fact something else all together?

She was ever curious to figure that out. Darth Xyrah wasn't here, so perhaps it wasn't? It was their organization together, so many moons ago.

"Do you know what he's going to be talking about today, Acolyte?" Her gaze shifted to the girl she'd once more dragged along. Adean Castor . She had a knack for finding out information she wouldn't normally know, didn't she? Or was Alina projecting that? Again the Sith hummed, mulling over the thought. It didn't matter either way. Unable to use Sorcery and Alchemy herself, it never hurt to have someone who could conjure a Familiar close by.

"I hear you've been scouted, after all."

 

[Darth Imperius]

Ellissanthia | Darth Callidus | Open

The Tsis'kaar held a decadent ball on a recently conquered world to show their ... whatever they thought it would do. A victory celebration in an immaculate cave was probably as closest to a real triumph this sect was ever going to be after the fall of its founder at their multiple apprentices hands. But he had not come to reinforce previous observations and facts but to make new ones.

Darth Imperius stepped into the cave with his heavy and calm steps, dark plated sabatons hitting the rocky surface made the arrival neither subtle nor silent. From toe to top he was clad in a suit of heavy armor, rich with engravings and almost swallowing the light itself. A crimson tabard was coming down from his shoulders and extending to the ground and reaching above his helmet in a hood from which only the red lenses were visible.

His eyes and sensors scanned the hall, information running down his HUD as well as directly being fed into his brain. He was here to see and learn, to figure out who was potentially interesting and who was not. His gaze wandered from the leader of the Tsis'kaar, the young Dark Councillor, to the pale Queen of the Nightsisters, to the soldier turned governor and some others before he found Callidus observing as well.

The titanic steps carried him towards her, his gaze not regarding who he passed without incident, the massive figure apparently having little issues maneuvering the gathering and crowds until he arrived next to her and joined the observational stance.

"Darth Callidus." His deep, resonant bass voice rose from behind the helmet, gravelly and distorted. "Indulging the abundant revelry that our host organised?" The question was spoken quite seriously unless you have had a serious conversation with him before, then it would be clear that it was in fact, slightly sarcastic.

From the vantage point she wisely chose, his gaze drifted once more, briefly halting on the Undine and offering the slightest of nods, before looking onwards.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Dorvalla
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: OPEN

"A new dawn, in Reicher's love life?"​

Reicher slipped away from the grand celebration in the main hall, the hum of conversations, laughter, and clinking glasses fading behind him as he entered one of the siderooms branching off from the carved tunnel. The heavy door sealed shut behind him with a soft hiss, muffling the noise entirely.

The chamber was smaller and less ostentatious, with walls of smooth stone and subdued lighting. At its center was a large holotable projecting a detailed battlefield scenario—an intricate mix of planetary terrain, troop positions, and strategic overlays. Around the table stood a handful of officers, their crisp uniforms bearing the insignias of various divisions within the Sith military machine. Unlike the revelry outside, the mood in the sideroom was focused, almost tense.

Reicher's presence drew a few nods of acknowledgment as he approached, his crimson visor tucked under his arm. He had always preferred these moments—discussions of tactics and strategy, where sharp minds shaped the battlefield long before the first shot was fired.

"Lieutenant Vax," said Captain Drayven, a grizzled veteran with a sharp demeanor. His uniform was immaculate, but his tone carried the rough edge of a man who had seen far too much combat. "Just in time. We're running a war game scenario—Commander Kale and Major Tarrik are squaring off. Care to weigh in?"

Reicher smirked faintly, setting his helmet on the edge of the table as he observed the display. "I'd rather see how they handle it first. What's the situation?"

Drayven gestured to the map. "Simulated invasion of a fortified urban world. Kale is commanding the defenders—entrenched positions, heavy artillery, and air superiority. Tarrik is leading the assault with limited intel and a time-sensitive objective. The goal is to secure a key planetary generator in the city center."

Reicher nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the shifting troop markers and terrain features. "Sounds like a recipe for chaos."

As the game played out, the two officers at the controls made their moves. Kale's defensive strategy was methodical, a layered approach with overlapping fields of fire and choke points designed to bleed the attackers dry. Tarrik, on the other hand, pushed aggressively, deploying decoys to distract the defenders while probing for weaknesses in the outer perimeter. It was a clash of styles—calculated defense against bold offense—and the room buzzed with quiet commentary as the officers analyzed each move.

"You'd think Tarrik would have learned not to overcommit his armor after 'the incident'," one officer muttered, earning a few chuckles.

Reicher's voice cut through the banter, calm but firm. "His aggression worked there because he had air support to cover his flanks. Here, he's fighting under Kale's air dominance. He'll need to adapt quickly or risk losing his forward momentum."

The officers murmured in agreement, their attention shifting as Tarrik's armored columns pushed into a narrow choke point only to be ambushed by Kale's artillery and hidden anti-armor emplacements. The simulated explosion of tank markers drew a collective wince.

"Classic Kale," Reicher remarked, a trace of admiration in his tone. "Punish the overextension, force the attacker into a reactive posture. But it's predictable—Tarrik should've anticipated it."

A soft chuckle drew Reicher's attention. He turned to see a blonde officer standing near the edge of the table, her arms crossed as she watched the scenario unfold. Her sharp blue eyes sparkled with intelligence, and her uniform was impeccably tailored. She exuded a calm confidence that immediately caught his notice.

"You have a knack for understatement, Lieutenant," she said, her tone light but laced with dry humor. "Kale might be predictable, but that doesn't make him any less effective."

Reicher inclined his head slightly. "Lieutenant Elara Thryne, isn't it? I've read some of your after-action reports—efficient and thorough."

Elara raised an eyebrow, her smile faint. "I'll take that as a compliment. I've heard about you too—Reicher Vax, the Old Guard's rising star. Word travels quickly."

Reicher let a small smirk tug at his lips. "And here I thought I was flying under the radar."

"Not with moves like that coup of Polis Massa," Elara replied, her gaze shifting back to the holotable. "You've built a reputation for making the impossible look routine. I imagine that's why you're here and not out there mingling with the aristocrats."

"Not my scene," Reicher admitted. "I'd rather be here, discussing strategy with people who actually shape the battlefield."

"Likewise," Elara said, her smile softening. "I've always found parties… tiresome. But watching Tarrik get dismantled? That's entertainment."

Reicher chuckled, a genuine laugh that was rare for him. "He'll recover. If nothing else, Tarrik's good at learning from his mistakes."

As the game reached its climax, with Kale's defenses holding firm despite Tarrik's desperate attempts to breach the inner city, the room buzzed with debate over what could have been done differently. Reicher and Elara exchanged observations, their conversation flowing naturally as they analyzed the tactics on display. It wasn't long before the other officers took notice of their rapport, offering knowing smirks and subtle nudges.

Reicher took a quick look back out the door, seeing the figure of Darth Imperius walk in. Serina Calis had informed Reicher of who this man was, how he had killed her and yet she still very much appreciated her time with him. He gave a slight nod when their eyes locked before drawing himself back into the room.

"Well, Lieutenant Vax," Elara said as the simulation reset for the next match, her finger tracing itself along his armor. "It seems we've thoroughly dissected their strategies. Care for a match yourself?"

Reicher raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you challenging me, Lieutenant Thryne?"

Her smile turned playful, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "I am. Let's see if the Old Guard's strategist can handle a little friendly competition."

Reicher's smirk widened as he stepped up to the holotable. "Challenge accepted."

​

 

[Zanami]

Dorvalla

Equipment: Lightsaber / dagger x2
Tags: Open​

The little she-devil, Zanami, entered into the fray, a holistic feeling of anxiety flooding her senses to the point she gripped her head with both hands. "Not now, please? Not now," her anguished words muttering softly under her breath. After a few fleeting seconds, another of those nightmarish visions slipped back into their darken abyss. Slowly withdrawing her hands, her eyes looking about in hopes nobody saw this display of her unhinging from reality.

A coarse thought fluttered desperately across her mind, had she made a mistake coming here? She yearned to be treated as if she belonged, yet what she was, this monstrous abomination created by Adeline Noctua , stitched together by fraying threads, upon acceptance was nothing short of a mythical purgatory. She had been called special and unique, those two diabolical words meticulously weaved into her mind, by mother and father. How she loathed her existence.

Reaching out with invisible hands, to pluck from the winds of desperation, those dancing feelings of anxiety, whilst framing her mind back to a symbol of normalcy; in prayers of gathering herself for the night ahead. Slowly, she broke through that threshold that stood like an unseen barrier, moving further into the hall in hopes of going unnoticed. She felt safe, more at ease, when she hunted in the shadows, to go unnoticed by blinding eyes, and to be treated as if her birth was non-existent.

Once more, that recurring thought of being here was a mistake, floated upward to the surface; nearly paralyzing her distressed mind. She didn't belong among the gathered, she was a killer, an assassin whose works would never be known or appreciated to those she shared this hall, in their eyes, she was an enigma, a phantom who desperately was craving acknowledgement.

 

[Zari Daal]

The Twi'lek had not seen the Lady he was here to accompany yet - he was sure Mariah would show eventually, he need only wait patiently. No doubt she was making sure she looked just so before she appeared…and he would be standing by to assist.

But Zari noticed a female of blue skin and vaguely amphibian features step near him. Although she was short in stature, her legs were long and thin , peeking past the white gown she had chosen, her blue-purple hair tied up in a white bow that was stylishly large. Her large earrings swung as she turned her head to listen to the woman playing a harp very near them.

Zari searched briefly for the name of such a creature….the Undine? From Felucia ? Well, well…he had certainly never seen one before, in the wild…so to say.

He watched her head turn momentarily to the music before stepping behind her and leaning in close, one lek falling over his shoulder.

"Ze music iz very beautiful…no?" He said, giving her a small grin while he held onto his chalice of wine. His eyes turned to appraise her ears now that he was closer.

"Forgive me, but eet iz almost as beautiful as you are…" he said with a small bow that dipped his head and shifted his soft poncho. "I am Zari, at your ser-veece…"




Ellissanthia

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

​

The Neimoidian had been networking with the Trade Federation Embassy on Jutrand for quite some time now, aiming to bolster support for their organization within the confines of the Sith Empire and its vassal states, including the Kingdom of Korriban lead by Darth Caedes and the Commonwealth under the Grand Vizier Ivalyn Yvarro with direct economic investment and access to rare materials from the confines of Alliance space.

While some corporations might prioritize military might and cutting-edge technology to further their objectives in the galaxy, the Federation primarly relied on its ability to exert influence and establish networks, thereby securing its positon as one of the leading corporate superpowers within the galaxy.

Much of their early success was due to the work ethics of Senator turned Trade Monarch Lodd Grimmin who moved into the halls of Dorvalla on the invitation of the Sith Empire.

" Presenting His Royal Excellency, Lodd of the Grimmin Hive, Trade Monarch of Neimoidia and its Purse-Worlds, Protector of Narq, and Honorable Represenative of the Galactic Trade Federation of Planets. "

The announcer projected his voice to the gathered audience, as the crowd shifted slightly to permit his passage, accompanied by a contingent of Neimoidian Royal Guard for his protection, despite the fact that they would do very little in the event that the Sith were less than welcoming.

Still his main objective here was to find a servant of Darth Carnifex or even the Twice-Emperor himself to inform him of the Conflict over Muunilinst and the bill currently being debated in the Halls of the Federal Assembly on Fondor.

 

[Credius Nargath]

Cold and oppressive was the most apt description of the vicinity of the doors when the Lord of Hunger; Credius Nargath entered the place where the festivities were being held. He did not bring with him his enforcer or his guards this time, thinking it to be rather rude and a bit too off-putting if he were to do so when this was naught but a party to celebrate the success of the Sith Order passing another year into the new era.

Still, while he had not fed like he usually did when it came to parties like this, resulting in his somewhat unsettling aura remaining like a permanent fog around him, he was still dressed in the finest crushed velvet and spidersilk robes and garments, with many an aurodium thread and electrum detailing effectively showing off the Lord of Hunger's financial status.

He noticed how the entire place was seemingly filled mainly with agents and key figures of one of the Order's more elusive branches, yet he cared little for those he did not know off nor had any reason to contact. On the other hand, as the doors opened to announce his presence, the inhuman crimson and golden eyes vibrantly visible from behind his mask, peered straight towards the very host of this get together: Darth Malum of House Marr .

As the youngest of the Dark Council, many would perhaps think this one was soft and weak, Credius had thought so as well, but just a glimpse of the respect this man wielded in the vicinity of the highest echelons of the Sith Order made the Lord of Hunger think twice about effectively attempting anything to manipulate this young lord. For now, it seemed more accute and more thoughtful to greet the young lord as a courtesy and sign of...respect.

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Callidus | Darth Imperius