Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion The Red War: Food Fight || CIS Dominion of Kriselist

Strength till the End
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Kriselist. A world of woes. Once razed for daring to harbor Rebel Sympathizers, and again for defying the One Sith. Time and again, the world has been rebuilt. Time and again, war has burnt it to the ground. But today, the cycle was broken. Kriselist fell under the gaze of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, who sought to continue the aid that the Outer Planets Alliance had once offered.

But not everyone was there for humanitarian reasons. Word had spread about an eccentric collector, with a vault full of valuable items, weapons, and relics from all nations and ages. And such a haul is sure to attract attention. What remains of the once great manor is buried in debris. But a secret tunnel has been found, leading into the caves below where the treasure is rumored to be hidden. Can you find it before the scavengers do? Or before the other members of your party?

Those that did set foot upon the ruined surface were in for a rude awakening. As the Confederate personnel filled the soup kitchen, an air of unease settled over the room. Something was coming. A dire plan was being put into place. Two young males stood side by side in line, biding their time. And when the fated hour came, nothing could stop their wrath. Once more, Krielist was plunged into the depths of war as the dire proclamation rang.


"FOOD FIGHT!"

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For those Confederates working the soup kitchen, there was no escape when the broth and chunks of meat began to fly. The best course of action? Return fire. The young in body and spirit have taken up arms against you. Fight to the last man. Yours will be the brilliant glory, or the shameful defeat. Your team is counting on you. Good Luck.

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If hunting for lost trinkets is more your speed, you find yourself at the entrance to the tunnel network. Intersecting with the sewers at various intervals, the caves below host one of the greatest hauls this side of Nok Drayen's treasure. There are sure to be traps waiting within, so proceed with caution. But do not tarry for long. Others have surely caught wind of this very same treasure. Will you win the race to the treasure?

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As always if the planned events do not suit your tastes, you may explore the wide expanse of Kriselist. What ruins will you uncover? Who will you help? Who will stand in your way? The world is your oyster. Do with it as you will.
 

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Navigate the Tunnel Network
Tags: Free to Join
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Kriselist held a certain familiarity to Alden as he stepped from his shuttle onto the planet’s surface. It was a planet he’d been to before, but not two visits ever seemed to be the same. And not one of those visits had been one of rest and relaxation. But the purpose of a visit never once gave Alden any reason to develop any preconceived notions of the world, nor its storied past. A past that, in itself, had brought the planet to ruin time and time again. And now Alden found himself back here again. That once familiar ground all but seemed alien to the King of Eiattu. Its surface cracked and crying of a treacherous past seemed different now than it had before. Perhaps because of where the man stood in his own life, or perhaps something else. He couldn’t place a finger on it, but there was just something different.
What had brought the man here, though, was nothing of official Confederate decree. No, what had brought him here was rumor of this collector having in his possession an heirloom most valuable to the Akaran family. One that had been thought lost to the pages of time after a previous embodiment of a galactic power occupied his home. It held more value to him than just the credits the trinket would have been worth. But it held a deep sentimental sway over his heart and soul.
“Sir?” A voice of a venerable man with a disheveled head of gray hair called out from the ramp of his shuttle behind him. “Sir, is it wise to set foot to this task on your own?”
“I’ve been in much more dangerous scenarios than this, Paeon. Surely you would remember that I had a career on the front lines of military service.” Alden had a joking and playful tone in his voice as he responded.
Paeon gave off a somewhat defeated look in return. To the man it seemed as though Alden always did everything in his power to remove himself of his royal obligations and toe that very fine line of thrill versus stupidity. After all he was King and he should be taking a certain backseat approach to things. “But what of your wife, the Queen? Of your duties as King?”
“Paeon, I’m not going to live my life absent from it. I always have, and will continue, to fight my battles from the front lines. What sort of leader would I be if I cowered behind forces innumerable?” Alden’s reply held with it an increased authority.
An alive one, Paeon thought to himself before slinking away back into the shuttle.
Alden then turned his attention back to the mission at hand. Before him stood the opening to a tunnel quite a distance from where he assumed most might begin their journey into the darkness toward finding this collector’s vault.
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She had a sister.

Ok, so that wasn’t really a surprise, Asaraa had met Dreidi before, it’s be hard not to really considering she was her adopted sister it was just…she was here. The pink-haired Jedi master had left the Silver Jedi to find herself, to figure out who she really was. Outside of the Order, outside of the family she’d found, outside of those eyes that always seemed to be watching, seemed to always judge her.

It wasn’t really their fault, it was the Jedi way.

But, Asaraa wasn’t really a Jedi anymore, or at least not what so many in the order saw as a Jedi. The memories of a Sith that Darth Prazutis had unleashed had taken time, to settle. There were times that she could close her eyes and remember two lives, look in the mirror and not even recognise her body or the person looking back through her eyes. How could the other Jedi look at her and not see the Sith and not the Padawan she’d been?

Strangely away from the strictures of the Order the Jedi had found peace, a balance within herself. She’d found her path to Masterhood, to her own path. She might not have been traditional, who could recognize a Jedi without their robes, but she’d realized a Jedi was what she was. Which was why when the opportunity came to help out in a soup kitchen…well it was a good way to show her sister that there were countless ways to help out those in need and get her away from the suite on Naboo right?

Who could have predicted that someone would start a food fight…although the pink-haired one wasn’t complaining about that too much. Or no at all to judge by the gigantic grin on her face. Still, she reasoned as she crouched behind an upturned table with Dreidi, this was a lot more fun right?

“Have at you foul blackguard…taste…barely warm tomato soup!”

Ok, so it didn’t quite have the ring she was hoping it would, but the shocked look on that teenager’s face more than made up for it as she ducked down, avoiding the volley of return fired spaghetti.

“So…bet you never had anything like this back at the temple.”

Dreidi Xeraic Dreidi Xeraic
 
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It hadn't been too long since Dreidi had moved in with Asaraa and decided to be a Jedi of the Confederacy, her sister had gotten a message from their father about his views on her move to the Confederacy and his thoughts of her as a Jedi, Dreidi hadn't eavesdropped on the conversation but she hear bits when Asaraa played it from her new bedroom. Dreidi got a message about how proud of her he had been and that he would always love her and knew that no matter how tough things would be between them that he knew that she loved him too, or hoped she would. It was sweet but it was also crushing since she couldn't say she did love him to him and that she always would. That time had passed and now she had to deal with that, which sucked and she hated all this grief that she couldn't let go and the guilt she was feeling too since he wasn't even sure she still loved him when he passed after their fight.

Finally, Asaraa brought her on a mission so they could spend time together. Dreidi was excited and wondering if she would be exploring Jedi ruins, visiting old Jedi planets and temples, or training in special locations that her Master knew about. However, the truth was a little more boring, it was serving food in a soup kitchen. At first, Dreidi had wanted to protest that she was a Jedi and this beneath her, then realised how it sounded and did the work. It was not the exciting Jedi experience that she had wished for but it was necessary work and Dreidi realised that complaining about it would only mean that she was letting her Master down by not listening to instructions. It was not her place to question where she worked and what jobs they did, and Asaraa didn't seem to think it was beneath her and she was a Master.

When the food fight kicked off, Dreidi was shocked that things like this were okay since it could be considered a waste of supplies that needed to be shared out but Asaraa seemed to jump into full food fight war mode and it was nice to have some fun. Dreidi was starting to be glad they came here and not some Jedi temple, this was the right kind of distraction for her. Using the Force, Dreidi pulled the dish of meatballs to her, grinning widely, "Nope, at least not in a soup kitchen." Dreidi answered as she leaned up slightly and started throwing meatballs with keen eye of someone who gotten into their fair share of food fights. Or at least started a few in the Padawans cantina in the SJC.

Asaraa Vaashe Asaraa Vaashe
 
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There had been a melancholy that had settled over her sister ever since she’d arrived in the Confederacy. Perhaps it had been different for her, growing up with their father, seeing him every day, seeing that gradual decline. Having to live with it. Perhaps the pink-haired Jedi had had it easier not experiencing that but Dreidi needed something to pull her out of her funk. Everyone needed something sometimes, it might be a singular moment, meeting someone who changed your world view or just getting out of your usual haunts and experiencing something new.

Besides, it might not look it but a soup kitchen was one of the best places to learn, to hear stories that existed. Everyone here had their own tales to tell, stories of great military victories and losses, or smaller tales of human kindness and hate. It was a microcosm of the wider galaxy and if you stopped and listened then maybe you’d learn something. Well that…or maybe you’d end up with egg on your face.

Literally.

Ok, so maybe the force gave her a small advantage when it came to dodging the food flying through the air, two loaves of bread replacing her lightsabers as the Jedi began batting peas and chicken back at the baying crowd.

This might not have been the lesson that she’d hoped to teach her sister, but she wasn’t going to complain too much at all. Not after seeing the look on her face.

“Watch our left flank, those veterans have got their hands on the mash and they look like they mean business. I’m gonna deal with those lunchladies.”

Even as she spoke the deflected foods seemed to focus, barraging the table the poor lunch ladies had taken shelter behind. By hook or crook team Jedi would come out ahead!

Dreidi Xeraic Dreidi Xeraic
 
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Her grief with her father stemmed from her argument with him and her mother when she found out about his illness, she had told them both that she hated them and kept her distance from her father and mother. It had taken time to build back that trust though she had still be very guarded with both and hadn't planned on telling her mother she was leaving, though she had clearly know Dreidi was running away to join the CIS and packed some essentials and treats for Dreidi without her knowing. It meant that she never got a chance to tell her dad that she still loved him and that she would always be there for him. Watching him get more ill and lose more memory, it was impossible to bring up the conversation, especially since he spent days thinking that Dreidi was Asaraa or Nitya or even Kyra Perl, someone he had trained not long before he got ill.

So Dreidi was dealing with guilt of thinking her father didn't know that she still loved him when he passed, that her anger stopped her having a final goodbye with him and enjoying the time they did have. Then there was the grief of just losing someone she respected and admired so much, she couldn't believe he was gone and would never give her the chance to learn from him again. Since there was no way to keep in touch with him through the Force, at least not directly, she swore there were moments, brief moments where she could sense him. However, she was focused on the present, living in the here and now as she had been told to be. And the present, she was waging war. Food was being thrown at her and she was having to take cover from the heavy fire.

Asaraa gave the orders and Dreidi flung several meatballs at the veterans. "Be careful of the kids, they might seem the least experience in combat, but this is a food war and they are likely the most experienced." Dreidi pointed out a group of kids only a couple of years younger than herself throwing gravy at opponents getting too close. Dreidi then returned to the veterans and had to duck quickly out of the way of some mash being flung at her.

Asaraa Vaashe Asaraa Vaashe
 
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CAVE OF WONDER


The Force spoke from this world. It echoed out in such a way that made the hairs on the back of the Exarch's neck stand erect. With the cool morning breeze flowing over the rocky terrain he found himself embracing the chill of the Dark Side of the Force. It washed and waned over him as if it wished to pull him away from the physical plane and present him to the Greater Force. Were he a lesser man he would submit to it's call and transcend the barrier of power that was his humanity. He smirked at the thought of the indulgence, however his eyes soon turned to the task at hand. The mouth of a massive cave system sat before him, wide and inviting. The air seemed to flow directly into the mouth of the cave as if beckoned by an unseen hand.

The hand of the Force. He mused. He did not tarry on the thoughts that came through his mind, instead turning his eyes to the companion who had joined him for this event. The Sith Lord had requested the companionship of a member of the Solanaceae in the event they found something of a naturally powerful nature. As a Sith Lord he was quite adept at handling and shaping the Dark Side of the Force. Still, as he'd learned from counseling sessions with Nimue Nimue the Force is not held within a barrier or scope. Its power was boundless, as was the majesty that allowed it to present itself in infinite forms. So the Lady Sabine was commissioned for her expertise in the more chaotic facets of the Force. The two had only just departed their shuttle when the Exarch of the Confederacy and King of Illyria turned to the pale skinned woman.

"An acquaintance of mine told me the caves here are home to a rare elixir. A natural tonic that has a healing capacity even greater than bacta, however every attempt to recover this elixir has resulted in death. Originally I considered tasking the Witches of Ryloth to recovering this elixir on my behalf, however I thought it was an acceptable excuse to stretch my legs." He said.

"I may find myself in need of your expertise and reliance on your knowledge of the more primal side of the Force." He told her, taking a step forward so that he may lead the two of them into the mouth of the cave. The entrance to the tunnel system was massive, however the moment he stepped within he could feel the aggressive pull of the Dark Side of the Force. It caused him to pause, leveling his eyes against the wall of darkness that hid the inner workings of the cave. Adron's lips curled into a rather amused smile as he pulled his lightsaber from his waist. His thumb ran over the ignition switch and almost immediately an amethyst blade came to life, casting a bright glow over the cave before them. Although the mouth of the cave was massive, it quickly began to fold into a much smaller cavern. Still large enough for four men to walk abreast, yet it was not quite the great maw that the mouth was.

Once they had reached the narrowing path, Adron spoke idly, his eyes keen on the darkness yet still prefer some amount of conversation opposed to silence. "Lady Sabine. We've never truly been introduced in a less formal setting, have we?" He said, before turning his eyes to the woman who stood beside him this day. "Although my business often takes me to every corner of The Confederacy I seldom tamper in the business of you Witches. Not out of disregard for what you do, merely that your leader, Vytal Noctura Vytal Noctura has already proved the necessity of your kind. That being said I've learned that your kind often work better unmolested, much like myself." He explained. Even with that, it didn't have an overly extensive comprehension of what the witches did outside of what they told the Confederacy. It was not his concern for the moment, either.

Rather than continue on the idle chatter, he turned his mind to the task at hand. "The natives tell stories of this spring. The Well of Life and Death. They tell a story of a minor deity in their religion, something similar to a dragon. For hundreds of thousands of years this mighty beast was the protector and guardian of this world and the people who settled here. A mighty beast that in the day flew over the lands expelling hellfire from its mouth and at night it wept tears for those it had to destroy. These tears formed a great ocean of powerful magics that the people used to restore their wounds and even stave off death. Well as all stories do, this one has an ending of death. They say that the great behemoth one day fell ill and died, his body covering this great sea and soaking its elixir into his being. While it did not stave off his death, it did allow him to grow fur along his back that turned to grass and trees." The man chuckled a bit before looking back to the woman.

"A curious fable, isn't it?" He asked her before continuing down the cave.

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M Y S T E R I E S
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Sabine followed after the Lord of Illyria each step silent as if she was stalking prey. her blue eyes were piercing as she scanned the horizon as if expecting attack from all directions at once, this would likely be marked as concern but all her senses were being used as she sought out the power that had drawn them here. Much like Adron she felt the pull of the dark side, a thing of healing may perhaps be here, but whatever was causing the dark aura all around them tempted her all the more, a smile touched her lips.

“We have not met, no. While I am part of the Solanaceae, much of my time is spent with the Octarchy Covenant, that is where my true duties lie. It is true though I have learned much from them, and the Nightmother knows well that my specialty is in artifacts and ruins. Especially those of a darker nature.”

As they entered the cave proper she stayed only a half step behind the man as he lead the way with his blade lighting their path, she was content to allow him to do as he liked, for her part her eyes simply adjusted to the dim lighting as if she were still outside, the benefits of Vampirika, her eyes now had a faint blue glow to them as she scanned the walls and floors listening to the mean speak of local legends and superstition, it was her experience never to dismiss even the most absurd legend.

“This dragon could well be an allusion to the fanged god, one of the deities, some of the witches worship, charming personality.” her voice dripped with sarcasm as she spoke as if she had actually met him, in truth she had but that was a tale for another time and for another place. her crimson lips curled up in a smile as he looked back at her “It is indeed, but there is usually truth in such fables.”

TAG: Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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COOL WATERS


As the Lady Sabine spoke of her expertise in artifacts and ruins, the Sith Lord found his interest rather piqued. It was not merely anyone who could truly extend their hand into the reaches of history and pull back something of worth. So when the woman revealed this fact the Exarch took advantage of the moment. "So tell me, in your time have you conducted research on anything significant?" He asked with a subtle curiosity. "My homeworld of Illyria contains a great many secrets, even to myself. Perhaps someone with your specific skill set would be of some help in deciphering just what lies beneath the surface." The two were led into an open cavern, where the narrow tunnels led into a wide open room of rock and stone. It was a natural formation, with ridge-like patterns that ran across the ceiling.

The inside of the cavern was well lit by a natural light source, slugs. Hundreds of the beings, crawling from one end of the cavern to another at a slow pace, letting off faint blue lights. Individually they were not especially bright but together they provided more than enough light. In the ground, flowing from one end of the cavern to the next was a river of crystal clear water. Adron approached it with an arched brow. "I can't imagine these are the waters?" He said, before kneeling down in front of the small river.

When his hand dipped into the water the Sith could immediately feel that they were nearly ice cold. Peculiar. He looked up, watching the course of the water. They ran from a break in the rock formation, however they led down into another part of the cave system. Of course, there was little to no footing on the sides of the river. Adron exhaled, pulling the blazer from his shoulders and tossing it to the side on the ground. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, he turned to Sabine with an arched brow, an amused tone dripping from his lips. "I hope you can swim." He said, before stepping down into the cool waters. They sent a cool wave up his spine before he slipped lower into the water, the cool rush flowing over his shoulder.

The Force sustained his body, keeping it from rapidly dropping with the near-freezing temperatures of the underground waters. Pushing off with his feet, he submerged himself, moving down to follow the path that the river flowed. He led Sabine through the depths, where more of the glowing slugs lined the path down the river. As they continued to swim in the waters, Adron took notice of a stirring sight. His eyes washed over a skull, resting peacefully at the bottom of the waters. He glanced back to Sabine to assure she'd seen the sight, before his eyes turned back to what laid before him. His eyes went wide. The entire bed that laid at the bottom of the river slowly turned from rock and stone...to bone and marrow.

As they swam deeper into the waters, Adron began to notice something. They were absolutely freezing. Luckily his mastery of the Force helped to create a bubble of warmth within his chest to sustain his body, however the waters they swam in were well below freezing.

Thank the Force for the skill of Tapas. Still, the Sith assumed that Sabine would be able to stabilize herself. If she could not, then she would likely not survive this journey.

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M Y S T E R I E S
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A soft chuckle escaped her lips, he was probing but she would indulge him for now. “Significance is often in the eye of the beholder. Most of my explorations have been into the forgotten pieces of history, though I have delved into the ancient tombs on Korriban more than once, the temples on Yavin as well. There is plenty left to find if one is careful and familiar with the devices both Jedi and Sith use to conceal secrets. If you have such secrets on Illyria, I should be able to assist with that.”

The conversation stopped a moment as they entered the large cavern, looking around her eyes carefully scanned their surroundings taking in every detail, likewise her eyes moved back to the man as he reached his hand into the water. “Careful, it is always wise to assume even the water placid as it is, might be capable of killing you,” she said with a small smile and she watched as he discarded the blazer to the rocky ground, she watched him dip beneath the water and sighed as she reached up the unclasp the cloak that wrapped her. “If only the Nightmother had gotten to the part about teleportation this part would be unnecessary…” she shrugged her alabaster shoulders as the cloak fell away, hitting the rocky floor with a soft impact she stretched her arms out readying them for the task ahead as she walked to the water's edge, dressed simply in a black tank top and black pants under the cloak, a cold dive was not what she was dressed for but that is what the force was for.

She wrapped herself in a small aura of the force, not only to keep a pocket of air around her but to also regulate and maintain the temperature of her body, one did not live for millennia without picking up tricks here and there after all. Once done she simply dove into the water in a graceful manner and swam after Adron following his course much of the swim would be uneventful but when she saw the skull at the bottom her eyes narrowed and focused on it perhaps this would not be this easy after all.


TAG: Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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DEATH SLUGS


The waters were so clear. It was impressive. Even with the floor of the cave riddled with death and despair, the water was the most pristine he had ever seen. Even the slugs that had lined the bottom of the waters were becoming more and more infrequent. Soon they were gone entirely, yet the light in the tunnel did not subside. It was an unnatural occurrence, yet the Force held a distinct presence in the waters before them. That was when something odd occurred. He felt it wrap around his wrist, like a thick coil of flesh that refused to release him. The Exarch halted his swim, turning his eyes down to his own hand.

There is sat. As black as midnight with slick skin that seemed more like jelly than flesh. The creature hugged the Exarch tightly, it's wiggling form settling and then finally...slice. He felt the sharp pincers pierce flesh as the creature, which now appeared to be a leech, fed from him. The Exarch clenched his free hand into a fist before setting his hand on the creature. He sent out a pulse in the force...and a nearby rock was split in half. Adron's eyes rose to see the rock that seemed to crush under the weight of the Force. Was that the Exarch's power? Again he tried, pushing the Force against the beast and one of the skulls under Adron's feet shifted unnaturally.

A Force Deflection. A rare power that some beings were capable of, where they could channel another's use of the Force and baffle the target of the assault, forcing it elsewhere. This small being naturally projected a field of Force Deflection around itself. This was not good. Adron turned his eyes to Sabine, yet they went wide as he looked at the woman's feet. From below the skulls dozens of the small black leeches floated up towards the witch. When Adron looked down he could see there were more of the creatures appearing underneath him.

That was when he felt it. The faint tug at the very center of his being. He had felt it once before. He turned his eyes to the leech and realized that the Force Deflection was not its only power. These leeched were capable of siphoning the life from their host with the Force.

Another of the creatures slid along Adron's leg, wrapping around him.

In a single fluid motion, Adron produced his lightsaber. The blade shot out from the emitter, bubbles forming where the hot plasma boiled the water that surrounded it. He brought his lightsaber to his wrist, cutting into the black leech and causing the creature to fall lifelessly from his arm. He swept his blade once again, severing several of the creatures in half. His lightsaber swung again and again, yet the creatures continued to float from the skulls, attempting to suckle the life from the two Force Users.

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T R A N S I T I O N



Soup Kitchen -> Exterior
Ruined City, Kriselist



Like many of the Confederates that had found themselves on Kriselist - a planet well known for having changed hands multiple times over the eons which ultimately lead to its destroyed and ruinous facade - Amelia had arrived to assist in a humanitarian effort, bringing supplies and resources to the world as they endeavored to bring it within the confluence of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. To hear it as told by the denizens of the planet, their most recent fall from grace - as it were - came at the hands of the aftermath of the Outer Planets Alliance collapsing. That event had rendered what assistance they had provided to the planet, void - and now the Confederacy had stepped in to ensure that those that called Kriselist home, would not be left out in the cold. Of course, there were those that had come for their own reasons - and Amelia - in many ways, had her own reasons for being there, though they were more difficult to discern than others.

When the air changed in the Soup Kitchen - she felt that something else was about to happen - and no sooner had she stepped outside; the first volley of food seemingly flew through the air as the words 'food fight' were screamed at the top of one's lungs. A heavy sigh slipped from her lips - and now she was, in many ways, rendered without shelter for the time being, beyond what little covered areas that the Confederacy had set up outside. It was clear that she wasn't going to return to the interior of the Soup Kitchen - at least not at that exact moment as the food was still flying hither and fro - rather, she would find something else to captivate her time and attention.

While she had heard the stories like everyone else had - about the mysterious collector and his precious vault hidden away on the planet - it was of little interest to the woman. She wasn't too fond of delving into ancient cave systems and tunnels - save for the few times in which it was a necessity on her part to ensure her planned hibernation was not disturbed. Amelia preferred open spaces, or in many other cases, the bridge of a ship careening through the void of space. It was strange that she always found it so peaceful to be standing on a bridge in space rather than on the solid ground of planets and other stellar bodies that populated the void. Perhaps it said something deeply about her - some unspoken truth that she kept hidden from others - that could only be gleaned if one took the time to dig into the mystery that was the Grand Marshal. Though, considering her own propensity of keeping people at a distance, it would be rather difficult for just anyone to get that close to being probing her thoughts and personality to get a better understanding of the woman.

For now, she would turn her attention upon the myriad of ruins that littered the surface of the planet, the skeletons of the dead - the towering husks of buildings that had been bombarded and bombed into near oblivion, still standing defiantly. She knew that she wouldn't be alone in the ruins - that others that had claimed them as their home would likely remain, and she couldn't blame them. She understood that they would hold onto what little sense of normalcy that they could - even if that normalcy was a decrepit structure that was ready to collapse at any moment. Amelia understood that for the denizens of Kriselist, the ruins were part of their lives, their heritage in some manner - and for many, they would inherit the dilapidated squalor that their families resided within. Perhaps that is why so many had not rebuilt, that they merely remembered what had happened over the course of eons - after all, there was little left you could do to ruins, and you couldn't really destroy something that had not been rebuilt.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she focused on her own goal - and at the moment it was slipping from shadow to shadow to keep herself out of the sun. It was those moments, however, that she saw how the people of Kriselist really thrived, their communities having developed and reclaimed the ruins - building upon them in their own unique manner to ensure that they had shelter, sustenance, and meaning to their lives. She could appreciate that they were, in their own way, digging a living from the rubble and debris and still thriving in what many would consider a lost cause, a planet that could just as easily become the next Raxis Prime - covered in the trash debris of the galaxy. There was a glimmer of hope though - and it seemed many were looking to the Confederacy for that hope.

So while some Confederates hucked food across the room in their ongoing conflict in the Soup Kitchen, and others had found their way into the dangerous tunnels beneath in an attempt to locate a fabled vault - Amelia had decided she would walk among the people of Kriselist, speaking, laughing, mourning, and eating with them in turn as she listened to their hopes and dreams - listened to what they thought the Confederacy could do to further assist them and ensure that they would continue to thrive. Even with the ruined structures that dotted and dominated many of the areas that had once been bustling cities in their own time, she saw the potential for something new. The planet - though needing some work - was an ample place in which the Confederacy could do great good.

Already her mind flooded with reconstruction projects - ideas to better assist the people of Kriselist - though there also came the thoughts of those that would without a doubt push back. While she understood that some would desire to rebuild, desire something to show for their lives and not pass in the debris piles of their homeworld - there would be those that would not want to see the structures reclaimed and reconstituted. Perhaps they feared that it would only attract the next attack, that their world would once more be plunged into conflict that would see their cities toppled and ground to dust again. It was understandable - it was, and she couldn't fault those that sought to keep their people protected by hiding in rubble and permitting others to believe that their world offered nothing. Those thoughts, however, were the ones to defeat and overcome - to convince those that lived in fear - that they could rebuild and that the Confederacy of Independent Systems was there to assist them in doing just that, as well as ensuring that their new cities would remain protected.

Chaos NaNo: 1158


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OBJECTIVE: TREASURE HUNT

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern Sabine Delacroix Sabine Delacroix


Donne still loathed space travel. She was getting used to darting about on missions here and there but it was the travel that irked her. She didn't mind though, on this particular occasion. She was delivering information to Adron Malvern, her Master and Liege. The intel was so sensitive that it couldn't be trusted across normal means of data communication, nor a courier service, let alone military or KO channels. This was to be delivered in person.

Kriselist. Yet another obscure and unknown world to the girl from Illyria. She motioned through the cave, the pull of the Force hard to ignore. She had Event Bursts, little pockets of Force energy that manifested as a sense of past events, playing out. She could sometimes smell what was no longer there, see what had happened here, hear what she did not want to hear. The massive tunnel system had wound on, narrowing path after narrowing path leading towards wards. She could smell it. She didn't need the force for that.


She entered into an opening, crystal clear water flooding the area. It was the clearest she had seen since leaving Illyria. She saw two figures; the unmistakeable outline of her mentor, Adron Malvern Adron Malvern and an unknown entity. They both looked a little perturbed, black leeching shapes dancing and twisting around their limbs, Malvern utilising his saber with great affect.

He was weakening.

Donne didn't hesitate. She ran forward, tossing herself into the water and drawing her saber mid-flight. With precision, she eviscerated the flesh of one of the slugoids, her upper body changing direction to catch another that sought to escape her renewed onslaught. She eyed a skull, a fresh slug beginning to emerge. She mustered all her strength and crushed the skull with her booted foot, twisting into the dirt the remains of the large creature.

She turned to face Malvern, allowing a smirk of recognition to pass across her lips and eyes.

"Must I rescue you everytime, Master?" The Force carrying her thoughts into his.

She brought her blade down again, slicing a leech in half as the water bubbled and steamed. She winced as the steam blast hit her face, causing her to lose her balance a little. She laughed to herself, bubbles of oxygen racing towards the surface some metres above.
 
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M Y S T E R I E S
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Sabine’s eyes had been drawn to Adron's own struggles with the small creature attached to his arm, watching as it was hit by wave after wave of force power only to redirect it time and time again it would have been mildly amusing had he not been forced to ignite his saber and kill the creature and then pointed at the ones coming up from the bottom of the water toward her. Were they drawn by one's potential or power in the force? A small smirk formed on her lips at the thought as a number of them came to her. Her lightsaber flew into her hand and ignited, flash boiling the water around the crimson-colored blade of plasma. What proceeded was a ballet of death underwater as Sabine skewered one after another. The sudden arrival of Donne Toulemonde Donne Toulemonde broke her concentration for just a moment as the violet saber skewered a creature to her right, and then the young woman crushed the skull of the beast resting on the at the bottom of the pool they found themselves in.

It would seem that she had enough sense to see when Adron was in danger, a fact Sabine would file away. Sabine for her part split the last of the creatures approaching her in two with her saber she could imagine that there would be quite the unpleasant smell as the blade seared whatever passed for the creature's flesh however since they were underwater she would not be burdened with finding out. She raised a hand glowing green with ichor as she drew of the magick of the witches a simple spell that would tell her if there were any other living creatures in the vicinity, better to not be surprised again.

She projected her own thoughts as well as the results of the spell to the minds of her companions. "Well then, not exactly what I was expecting from this outing. I suspect we should not linger Lord Malvern."

TAG: Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 

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SITH

Damn these beasts. The Sith Lord mused as he sliced into them, again and again. They were creatures that seemed to drain the life of any individual they came into contact with, perhaps even prizing those who used the Force over others. Sadly for them, the Exarch and his companion had brought their lightsabers and were able to carve through the beasts all the same. Not long into the encounter, a second violet lightsaber came to life under the waters, slicing into the slugs bodies and aiding Adron and Sabine. The voice that filled his mind caused Adron's lips to rise into a smile. He looked to the Knight. Donne Toulemonde Donne Toulemonde with an amused expression. How amusing. Let us hurry to the end of this hell. He said, his mind speaking to both of the women who stood before him.
He deactivated his blade, turning and swimming through the cavernous waters with Sabine Delacroix Sabine Delacroix and Donne Toulemonde Donne Toulemonde behind him. he continued to speak to his Knight through her mind. You found us quickly. I see your sense are growing sharper. They continued through the waters and as Adron's eyes looked to the bed below he started to notice the skulls were beginning to thin, bone and marrow becoming replaced by rock and dirt once again. It seemed they had crossed the hell that had killed most who came searching for these waters. It was not long before they found the waters growing shallow. Adron's feet touched the ground and he rose from under the water, bringing his hand up to smooth his hair back against his head. "Finally." he breathed in the stale air of the deep cave.
They had come to a part of the cave where the water had receded to reveal a tunnel. The waters still came up to their knees, yet it was far better than swimming through the caverns surrounding them. The small creatures that cast off vessels of light had long since vanished and now Adron activated his amethyst blade once again, allowing it to cast a light over the area. The tunnel was narrow, to the point where they had to enter into it single file.
Adron paused. The Dark Side of the Force was growing thick...prevalent. He glanced back at the two, speaking lowly. "Guard yourselves..." He said, before continuing down the dark halls. The cavern led to another open room, which seemed to be a dead end. Adron's eyes quickly found that this room was strange. The air was not so stale and it seemed cooler than the rest of the caves. His hands pressed against the walls and almost immediately a number of symbols came to life with a crimson glow. "Sith Glyphs..." He muttered, running a hand over them before turning to Sabine. "Have you ever seen such a dialect?" He asked the woman.
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Adron Malvern Adron Malvern Sabine Delacroix Sabine Delacroix

Donne walked behind her Master and the other. Now she had found him in the cave system, she wasn't going to let him out of her sight. She responded to his communication.

I have news. The Ra'Kathan.


She stopped as they rounded the tunnel, a blast of cold, wet air causing her eyes to sting and her face to wince.

Donne's neck was flaring. It was how it had manifested, her 'Force Echo' as it was colloquially known. The scholars called it Psychometry. She didn't relish the experience; it caused her some considerable irritation, both physically and mentally. It drained her, altering her perception of reality for a few moments afterwards. She would need to catch her breath. She watched as Adron moved his hand across the wall, dark sigils that were drawn in a strange script lighting with his touch.

She placed her own hand cautiously on the side, the stone wall wet with water and some curious green ichor, remnants of some languid organism that called the cave home.

A flash. A sting. A cramp.

Three figures, clothed in ancient robes, carving maniacally into the walls. A body, strewn across the side. One of their own. Face wide with mania. Eyes blotted from their sockets. Something placed in an etched portion of the wall, hollowed out yet concealed. A flash. A scream. A laugh. A cry. An explosion. She found herself being sucked through space and time, glimpses of people she knew and faces she did not yet know. A flash. A sting. A cramp. A voice.

She opened her eyes, reluctant to accept where she was, when she was. On occasion she was woken to find herself with no recollection of her vision, recollection of her present or recollection of her intention. When she was younger, she would have soiled herself often during the process, her body placed under great stress and strain.

She spoke, hesitant and croaky.

"It is a warning."
 

Caesar Kenway

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Tags: | Dreidi Xeraic Dreidi Xeraic | Asaraa Vaashe Asaraa Vaashe |

It had not been often that the former Minister of War, during his lengthy career, ate out.

. . .

That is, if you could call a soup kitchen 'eating out'. But everybody must start somewhere, and the transition from a career where everything said and done could be interpreted as calling a foreign political leader's mother a beep beep beeping beep lorem ipsum beep beep beep admiumvenium beep beep beep beep turolagulio beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep hippopotamus beep beep beep beep beep beep Republican beep beep beep Daniel Radcliffe beep beep beep beep with a bucket of beep beep beep beep in a castle far away where no one can hear you beep beep beep beep beep beep soup beep beep beep with a bucket of beep beep Mickey Mouse beep beep with a stick of dynamite beeeeeepppp magical beep beep beep beep...

Or complimenting them very kindly,

Had not been as short and brief as he would have liked.

It was most comparable to rehabilitation. Finding things to fill his time with, returning to society, becoming a normal person. Instead of cursing himself with every joke and scripting every interaction, he had begun to pun the occasional string of words, and take conversations as impromptu speeches rather than scripted movies.

If was refreshing, if a bit stressful. Potentially more stressful than the work itself. Yet, with the time he had, the ex-Minister had made notable progress, and was enjoying his life in such a way that he never had before. He had officially delegated the management of Alterra Inc. to his Senior Managers, despite having mostly done so in order to maintain his busy lifestyle as the Minister of War for one of the largest nations of the time.

With all that said; one was still left wondering as to why he, with his surely hefty bank account, was eating at a
soup kitchen of all places. Surely he could afford to reserve a table at an upper-class restaurant on the Capital of Naboo? The only true answer was one that the smartest supercomputer, the size of a planet, given eternity, could not figure out. For perhaps it was a force of habit, to make good public appearance to the rare media outlet, or a deeper desire to experience the simpler aspects of the world.

Who could say?

Not he, certainly.

For his mind was more preoccupied with the sudden shift of the Soup Kitchen he was in from the dullness of spoons clinking against bowls to the scream of a Food Fight, and finding a large dollop of diced tomato paste slopping against the right side of his head, dripping down onto the business shirt beneath.

After a moment of standing around, looking like what must have been a frightened fawn, his legs kicked into action. His body slammed itself against a table, flipping it onto it's side and leaning against it. A short, yet drawn out groan of pain rasped from the Old Man's throat as his shoulder made impact, yet was quickly overcome by Adrenaline.

His eyes settled upon an almost perfectly untouched bowl of soup, sitting in the middle of the floor next to him, as if it was the Holy Grail with a thousand lights of gold illuminating it.

"How convenient..."

His hands grasped the bowl, his head bowing as he raised it gratefully, as if thanking some divine power for the blessing. This was cut short, however, as the slop of food against the metal table resounded in his ears. One hand cupping the bowl, another on the spoon, the Senior Citizen began to spoon out questionably cold revenge, flinging the liquid at the enemy.


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General Kalypso

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Tags: | Dreidi Xeraic Dreidi Xeraic | Asaraa Vaashe Asaraa Vaashe |

To say a Tactical Droid at a Soup Kitchen was absurd would be accurate. To apply that same word to the Not-General Kalypso would be ludicrous. For he was far more than a simple Tactical Droid, he was, by his calculations, the greatest droid to have ever been created!

Yet, that did not deny the fact that he was still the assistant and Aide-de-Camp to the former-Minister of War, Caesar Kenway. And where he went, so did Kalypso. He had served most notably in the rehabilitation of his master from his workaholic lifestyle to that of a Retired and Senior Citizen. When Mr. Kenway, as he preferred to be called, required information, Kalypso, having been instructed to ditch his militant title, would provide said information.

In return, Mr Kenway serviced Kalypso, oiled him and cleaned him, tightened loose bolts and ensured he was never breaking down. It was a good bonding experience, and there was most certainly a euphemism in it. Such an organic sentiment. To find dirt where there was none. They imagined the imperfections, forced them out of nothing. It was like saying the reflection of light was faded paint.

That being said, the relationship between Kalypso and Mr. Kenway was, no doubt, symbiotic.

It benefited both parties greatly to become, as Mr. Kenway had said, 'The damn closest thing to a friend either of us will ever have.'

But even Kalypso had moments where he questioned the wisdom or sense of Mr. Kenway's actions. Take, for example, their present predicament. Crouched behind a metal table, sheltering from an onslaught of barely-organic, half-liquid half-solid projectiles flung from the eating devices of Organics.

He had caused unnecessary bruising to his shoulder upending the table rather than taking cover behind Kalypso's much larger form and instructing him to flip the table. A task he would have very happily accomplished. With ease.

That said, sometimes it is not best to make friends with a droid, or get their assistance. For sometimes, they are too logical for their own good, and that of others around them.

As soon as Mr. Kenway had found his own ammunition, Kalypso made a judgement call.

The Organics were clearly not intelligent enough to realise the ineffectiveness of their ammunition, for one of their rounds had struck Mr. Kenway directly in the head, yet caused him no harm.

And so, he did what a droid might be expected to do. Rather than search for a full soup bowl, or food, he merely grabbed a bowl, and hurled it behind him. Then picked up a spoon, throwing it over his shoulder after the bowl. His arms then detached, splitting into four, one grabbing a bowl or piece of cutlery, breaking it. The other hands then promptly took these shards, hurling them over the table towards the kitchen. Not a soul could claim that any of these shards were blunt, or hurled jokingly.

For every single one of them stuck into the surface they strike like a hot dagger through butter.


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Torgeir Skovgaard

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ZOO CREW - LUPINE TORGEIR
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When one imagines a wolf, they do not imagine it strolling through the remnants of an urban warzone, slowly being reclaimed by nature. Yet, if one were to imagine that wolf in black, with eyes of blood and the moniker of the Son of Dauda Faerir; or, put into better context, the Son of the God of Death; then the image might change drastically.

After all, if it was not the Icon of Death and Darkness that walked in such a depressing place, then what truly did?

Though the Damned and Dead might Crawl and Drawl, only the Beatified and Breathing may Walk and Talk.

To take that into account, one must then consider whether it is correct to liken any who Live to the Cursed and Cast-out, particularly when those very same people who liken them so are the same who label them as the child of a God. It is hypocrisy so extreme and blatantly-vulgar, that it is more insulting than the behaviour it describes.

Yet, the message given is diluted itself, for it is, on it's own, also a hypocrisy. Whilst the Black Wolf, Torgeir Skovgaard, might dislike such terms and titles, and the treatment he received because of them; he could not help but feel gratified, if not pleased, that his behaviour reflected so obviously that of his most favoured God.

Though the question had to be asked, of whether he truly acted like his God because it was who he was, or because it was who he was made to be. Since birth he had been titled as the Spawn of Dauda Faerir, blessed by him yet turned away by Gjifarinn, the God of all Living Things. Instead, his Sister had been considered blessed to be so noticed by Gjifarinn, yet so presumptively disregarded by Dauda Faerir, as if to think he would not come for her when the time for her to pass on came.

Most certainly, though, she would pass on to Sidasta Saeti, The High Lands, to live in the Halls of the All-Father and his Court of Gods. All she had to do to be liked was to keep the company of Torgeir, for he was so dark, that the spotlight of Society seemed to reflect off him, as it would a mirror.

What they did not take heed of, however, was that the mirror that reflected the Sun became the Sun itself.

And though Astrid, his beloved sister, did not mean to cast him in the way that she did, there was no denying that he was never, not for the briefest second, considered good, or rather, anything more than pure evil.

And so the Black Wolf Walked, light breeze trailing through his smooth fur, paws imprinting upon the ground beneath him. He was lost in thoughts, so much so that he barely registered the smell of food upon the wind.

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M Y S T E R I E S
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Sabine continued to swim along following Adron and Donne Toulemonde Donne Toulemonde indeed the waters began to become more shallow before they finally emerged from the waters, her feet finally able to take a footing on solid ground. She allowed the protective shell of the force that had once wrapped her fall temperature was of little import now and breathing was no longer a concern. As Adron again took the lead to venture further igniting his blade to guide them safely through, it was both amusing and perhaps insulting if he was purporting to be protecting her as if one who sat on the Dark Council would need it but for now, she indulged.

When finally they came to a cavern, the dark side of the force permeating the area they now found themselves in, her eyes quickly scanned every surface taking a mental image of the room in large part she was paying her companions no mind that is until Adron Malvern Adron Malvern spoke to her directly, the white-haired woman turned to see what he had found and quickly she crossed the room to read the script with a wry smile.

“Yes indeed, there are not many languages I cannot read.” she paused when Deonne spoke up, very interesting, she arrived at the conclusion before Sabine this one would need to be watched closely. “The young Knight is correct it is a warning written in ancient sith, simply stating ‘Beware Life, Beware Death.’ some of my contemporaries of the past were far too fond of being cryptic” her blue eyes snapped to Deonne with an almost predatory smile. “So, what did you see? I always found psychometry such a fascinating topic.”


TAG: Adron Malvern Adron Malvern | Donne Toulemonde Donne Toulemonde
 

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