Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion The Red War : Killer Blow | CIS Dominion of Loovria

Lesha Weirr

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TAG: Verul Issant Verul Issant | Pyeth Raffinki Pyeth Raffinki

A respite came from an unknown feathered ally.

The Rishii had bought her enough time to find her footing. With the Trandsohan's attention on the Rishii, she made a sprint at the reptile's back. With another step, she launched herself onto his back, embedding her vibroblade into his jugular. She held on as tightly as she could as the great Trandoshan thrashed.
"That's it! Let the blood flow." she clenched through her teeth.

The reptile finally got hold of her and threw her from his back. Luckily that was his last act as he collapsed to the floor, green blood spewing past the blade still embedded in the side of his neck. As she got to her feet, she pulled her other blaster, loaded with a few HE rounds at the top, and fired three shots into the other Trandoshan that was also barreling at the Rishii.

It was glorious.

She had not seen these rounds in action yet. She had to hand it to the Mandalorian owned Breshig War Forge Consolidated - they did a smashing job on this pistol. It wasn't a pretty picture as the rounds collided with his armoured body. They all exploded on impact, dropping the Trandoshan into a singed, meaty mess on the floor.
"Dang!" she exclaimed, dropping the pistol back in its holster before grabbing the one still set on stun. "Thanks for that!" she told the Rishii. "Name's Lesha." While waiting for his name, she looked out across the battlefield.

It was absolute chaos in the arena. It had been a while since she had been on a true battlefield. It was nauseating to see so much carnage, all just for the entertainment of a bored warlord and his lackeys. The half-starved creatures, bloodthirsty Gladiators and slaves all fighting for freedom. It almost brought her to her knees.

As she turned to see how Verul was faring, she saw him drop the Akk dog that had pinned him to the ground. The three zonked out hounds would make a great addition to Dak Fordite Dak Fordite 's Xeno-Zoo.

She ran over to the Professor.
"You all right there, Doctor?" she asked him, holding out her hand to help him up. Just then, her eyes caught the movement of something big entering the arena on the other side. "Oh jeez. Gentlemen, I don't think we'll be able to take an Ackley alive." she told both Verul and Pyeth as the monstrous reptilian crustacean made its way towards them.

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Tireya Syvare

Guest
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Objective: BYOO

Tireya had made it planetside before many of the others of the Confederacy began to arrive. Guided by the voice in her head, Valyra as it’d come to be known, she had no true inclination of her purpose here, nor that of the Confederacy. “What interests could this Confederacy you’ve chosen to follow have in this mottled little word of villainy and scum?” The words filled her subconscious, icy and vile in their forming. “What purpose do you have here dear?” The words shifted, now in a piercing way challenging Tireya’s own purpose.

But truthfully, Tireya wouldn’t have an answer for that. She’d assumed that it had been Valyra that had guided her path down these wayfaring roads. That had guided her to the cusp of insanity and the thrill this self-serving spirit found therein. “Was it not you who demanded we come here?” The words held with them a certain frustration that wouldn’t be denied. She hated this spirit that possessed her, yet she couldn’t rid herself of its influence. But then again, the only reason Tireya had survived as long as she had was because of Valyra. Perhaps only for her own ulterior motivations, but Tireya had been saved a hundred times over at this point simply because of the voice that plagued her thoughts.

“Oh dear. I but guide you on your path to enlightenment. It is you who takes those steps. Not I.”

A vicious chill ran down the young girl’s spine causing her to recoil, her hand clutching Brimn’r in the process. There would be no words that would part Tireya’s lips this time and instead all that would be mustered would be a dull grimace.

“There is a lifeform that harnesses another within that is coming this way.” Valyra’s voice halted a moment, allowing the suspense and later confusion to fill the silent void in that time before she continued. “You’ve seen her this being in your dreams, yet never the flesh.”

“What is your point?” Tireya interrupted Valyra, tired of this riddle laden non-sense that the spirit constantly tormented her with. “You want me to seek this person out? Is that your magnificent plan this time?”

“You do as you wish, I am only preparing you for a fate that may pass. But what I will say is this, my child. They are a part of your future if only for a moment.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That is for you to decide, my dear. And for myself to witness.”

Tireya shifted, her brows furrowing in anger. These mind games Valyra played were becoming increasingly more and more annoying. And more persistent at that too.

Tag: Nimue Nimue
 

Arshad Nasr

Guest
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TAG: Jayde Natari
WEARING: X

Slavery.

It is an atrocity. At the best of times, he was a calm, collected man, but everytme slavery is mentioned, it calls forth an intense hatred from Arshad. Being a hardened warrior did not help. Salvery was something to be eradicated from the Galaxy by root and stem.

Being Minister of Defense of Ra'Katha meant he had his ears on the ground constantly. So when the call for deployment came to help liberate the planet of Loovria, Arshad did not hesitate to not only send troops, but to go there himself. He had heard the rumours of the heinous crimes enacted on the inhabitants there. He would see a stop put to it.

There was a specific initiate in his ranks that had caught his attention. Jayde Natari had exceptional promise from what he had seen during the training of his troops. So he had done something he had not done in decades - he took her as a squire....to train her to be the best. To lead one day. So she accompanied him to the Gladiator planet.

Loovria was a beautiful planet. Its capital, Strako, was impressive. It was an ancient city with engraved, classical architecture. But the focal point was the great Quintik Arena complex at its center. It was the birthplace of all manner of crimes against humanity. Not only were fights to the death fought there, but humans were paraded and sold like livestock and kept in horrendous conditions. This would be his target. To see these people freed and tended to.

Approaching the slave pits, he made for an impressive visage. His tall, solid frame was clad in his signature golden armour and his demeanour demanded respect, even though he was not a violent or demanding man. The guards at the pits did not think twice to allow him and Jayde through.
"Hope you find some quality goods, Sir." one of them told him as he walked past.
It took all Arshad's self restraint to not choke this man to death with the Force.

So he kept on walking with merely a grunt.

The sight in front of them was despicable. People from all kinds of races were in chains in the different pits. Their heads hanging in shame and despair while finely dressed nobles and other well of people were spitting out bets like savages.
"Terrible, isn't it, young one?" he asked Jayde in his deep, exotic accent as he observed the horror in front of them with furrowed brow.

There were guards all over. This was going to be harder than he anticipated to get these people out safely. He brought his arm to his mouth.
"Surround my location. On my signal, engage these Bvuot’inshadi." he told his troops over the commlink. His disdain at the slavers were very much apparent in the insulting way he referred to them. He then turned towards Jayde.
"Are you ready to dance, young one?" he asked her.

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OBJECTIVE: One down, many to go.


Tags: Falcon Rekali, Emberlyn Rekali, Kyyrk Kyyrk , Aloy Vizsla Aloy Vizsla , Cord Starfall Cord Starfall , Open to others.


The sound of the crowd was deafening, as they cheered on various contests throughout the arena – as well as those liberating the masses of slaves. She could sense the ferocity and passion behind that of Kyyrk Kyyrk and his Mandalorian friend - @Aloy Viszla. She was completely unaware of their true intentions, and their aspirations to free them from servitude. Aaralyn would press forward, raising her weapon up to meet that of a Devorian bearing his weapon upon her. The vibration of the metal rocked her senses, jolting her hands just enough to cause her balance to falter. Aaralyn shifted her weight, maneuvering her weapon to jolt his free from his grip before following through with a solid jawbreaker with the butt of her own weapon. The sound of bones crunching and tendions ripping was soon accompanied by an alien shriek, and a scream. The Devorian fell backwards, writhing back and forth as a Weequay companion rushed to his aide, picking up a piece of sheet metal and a pipe.


He would avenge his fallen friend...

 

Jayde Natari

Guest
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L I B E R A T E
Tag: | Arshad Nasr |
Attire: |
[xXx] |

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It wasn't very often that Jayde got to venture away from home, and it was even less often that she got to go off world. In fact, up until this very trip, such a thing had never taken place. This of course was only one of the new moments experienced in Jayde's life as of late. She had been trouble with legs for most of her life, never anything incriminating of course, just enough to rile up a crowd and cause a scene. But growing up, that came with a price, and it hadn't taken too long for her to realize that she needed to be doing something more with herself.

Jayde had always been a fighter, agile and handy with a variety of makeshift weapons that would pass to her hands in heated moments. So the answer had been obvious; enlist. With this decision, it didn't take long for the little sand snake to turn some heads. Her sass paired with her prowess made for an interesting enough combo, and well? Here she was.

Loovria was by no means what Jayde had expected. Sure, it was pleasant enough to look at, but it's appeal ended there for the young woman. She kept in stride with Arshad, but her displeased expression paired with a heated gaze was not stationary. The sight of the bodies set up on display, exposed for other wealthy people to gawk at made her stomach churn.

"Yes, very." she responded curtly, though the displeasure lacing her accented tone was not directed at him. "How can anyone do this to another living being?" It was a rhetorical question and of course did not require an answer. People were cruel, and in most cases? Lazy. Privilege seemed to make the wealthy believe they were better than others, and could do anything they wished, which clearly included owning others.

The young snake felt her muscles coil the moment she heard that order given across the comm. She was quite ready to cut some slavers down where they stood and free those literally chained to a life of servitude. Oh yes, there would be no mercy from this particular squire. "I was born to dance..." she again answered, though she would not reach for weapons until given the go ahead to do so.
 
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Location: Slave Pit | Loovria
Wearing: Dress
Tagging: Garza Garza

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“You’ll fit in.” “It’ll be an easy assignment, just get in, stop the sale. Easy Peasy.”

Only no-one had thought to mention that getting into the sale in the first place meant passing off as one of the very slavers she hated. This wasn’t passing off from a distance, or in a meeting with some suppliers before rounding them up. No, this was standing in the same room as them, breathing the same air, accepting a glass of wine from them and feeling their eyes ogling her without throwing them out of a window.

The force was a powerful tool, but not even it could protect her from the array of weapons that would be turned on anyone who dared to disrupt the proceedings. Still…it was tempting…so tempting. Especially that Chevin by the bar who kept leering at her while tugging on the chain of his slave. It might just be worth it to throw him out of the window even if they did end up turning their weapons on her.

A fair trade.

It was the soft sound of glass starting to freeze, the voices of the ‘guests’ near her raised in complaint about the broken heating system that brought her back to her senses. The air around her had slowly been leeched of its heat, a thin layer of frost coating the furniture as she blinked. Cold amusement rolled across her features as she put her glass down, the poor glass giving up the struggle as it tipped over, the stem failing as the vessel shattered as it hit the table, the frozen wine rolling out of it to fall to the floor with a soft thump.

“You’d think they could at least afford to have a working suite.”

The woman’s voice was touched with a very real disgust, a crack in her mask allowing her emotions to leak out for a moment. A final look was cast back at the Chevin, imagining the sound, the satisfaction of throwing him out of the window as she stepped away from the table to cross to that very window. A deep breath in and out as she recentred herself, blue eyes finally rising to glance over at the man next to her.

“Please can I throw him through a window? I promise I won’t make too much of a mess.”

The Hora was the last person she’d expected to see here, but his aura was impossible to hide through the force. He’d be amenable to a little bit of therapeutic violence right? Or at least he’d have a better plan than just “stop them”. At the very least they’d have to find a way to get the slaves free before anyone by the pens realised something was wrong.
 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?

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LOCATION: Quintik Arena
TAG:
Jayde Natari | Arshad Nasr
ATTIRE:
Link

Glimmering golden sand dusted across silt and sandstone, ancient pillars rose grandiose, defiant against the tides of time which battered and berated these hallowed halls. The arches of reinforced stone towered overhead, looming as gargoyles peered o'er their edges, watchful eyes taking in the myriad crowds that ebbed and flowed beneath them, people from all walks of life, split between class and stature. There were the leaders, clad in their wealth, surrounded by the sycophants who draped themselves upon their every word, flanked by a heavenly host of bodyguards, servants and companions as they stalked the halls in tight formations, occasionally absorbing another such cadre into their own ranks, doubling in size as the greater gathering would swap inane pleasantries. Then there was the warriors, like prized animals on display here, each of them donned in resplendent armour and weapons which their employers would show off. Little more than ornaments, status symbols, where the measure of their worth was their skill, but also their outfitting a trimming to present a tidy creature like that of an animal tamed, domesticated but still held that hint of danger to appease the palette.
But then there were the lower classes, the mercantile, selling food, arms, drinks, trinkets clothing apparel... and people. Chattel slavery, the like which the inner rim had not seen in a bygone age, on display here for the world to view. The people being sold were little more than sheep, to be bought, bred, sold again or slaughtered for the vehement enjoyment of their captors. The thought of it all struck a deep chord with G3M as she would watch the drone footage, the horror of it all foreboded a future where she shared a similar fate, one in which she, at the eternal behest of a captor would be required by violent control to acquiesce to the requests of another. Slavery, was a cancer to the universe which needed to be eradicated by whatever means necessary. So when G3M had heard the call for mercenaries to descend upon this small world, bonding with strike teams in order to liberate a world like this, she overrode her mechanical system immediately to see her ship rendezvous with the forces before they descended.
The CIS didn't seem to bad, they were liberators, castigating the wicked and those who would dare to deign that they or their people were compelled to any action or service. An absolute mandate of freedom, even if it may be a little dangerous was a perilous ideal, but one that G3 thought was fraught with an almost magnetic romanticism. It sounded nice, the dream resonated deeply with her heart to such an extent that maybe she could see herself within these ranks more often in coming months. Then if years should pass, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility to believe that she may join more permanently... Since her arrival she had been treated well, moving into ranks as a liaison with one of many forward strike teams that was to be penetrating into the bleeding heart of the slave empire in this rotten city.
"What are your talents?" A commanding officer within the squad requested, G3 would turn, not sure at first but respond with something not entirely unpracticed.
"Adept in close quarters high speed combat, breaking formations and harassing play, sir. Cut me loose and I can take the attention off your squad and identify threats in real time. I'm also equipped with anti armour weapons should we come into contact with a little more girth." The commander would not, and move along, others would whisper among themselves, jeers about having the million dollar attack dog. Which wasn't entirely incorrect, however G3 was a lot faster and more effective than a single canine, though she would resist the urge to correct the cadet. A spot check of weapons and armaments would see G3 equipped with the lighter of her two repeating blasters, both of her arms were loaded with their respective payloads while her leg holsters would hide two vibro knives that were made from a conductive material. Landfall was a more covert deal, moving in with the squads into position as it appeared that they were waiting on the call on someone who had made a forward approach on the markets before hand.
The squads would hear the call to be ready to engage, each of them had taken up a position surrounding the area. The one which G3 had been stationed within amongst them, had the happy deal of penetrating the front gate. G3 had been engaged, but G3M within was paying close attention to the action within her virtual space within her mind. Each squad would count off, a bakers dozen in all as it finally came to G3's turn, her voice monotonous and eerie as she would reply with a simple, "Lambda Squad reporting, F.A.B." G3M would chuckle inwardly a little, it was the closest attempt she'd made to a joke in recent memory, though G3 was already objecting in her own way, syntax error reports and the like filled her sight, informing her that F.A.B was a term for pilots, that there was no aircraft in play on the ground here and that, in fact they would not be at the helm of an aircraft.
'G3, you drain all the fun out of this... now focus, this is going to get bumpy. WE are the spear-tip here, calculate enemy formation and our best approach angles, try to get us up to those doors so we can take the entrance and establish cover. Then we punch in and make those slavers pay for everyone they've ever hurt.'

MISSION DIRECTIVE RECIEVED ... ANALYZING MISSION PARAMETERS
...CALCULATING APPROACH...
...CROSS REFERENCING ARSENAL...
...ALTERED REALITY COMBAT SEQUENCE LOADING...


 
Pushed back by the Trandoshan's superior strength, Pyeth's talons instinctively gripped the earth, resisting the kinetic energy that pressed him away. He hadn't achieved much, but where his body failed his instincts came through. She surprised him. Not only possessing the strength to fight off the Tandoshan, but the composure and flexibility to capitalise on the advantage he helped create thrusting the blade into the neck, a clean, precise strike. A collection of feats that would bring honour to any hunter amongst his people, she was thrown back and Pyeth readied himself again to come to her aid. Pyeth however, was not needed the Tandoshan had already succumbed to its wounds.

Suddenly he turned his head to heavy footfall's eyes pinning on the sight of another, already moving with agility towards him. Pyeth's hand seemed light already disarmed of the axe, but it was a far too heavy and crude weapon for him anyway. Then he jumped flinching at the sound of a blaster, first shot landed centre mass, detonating on impact, it staggered the Tandoshan but clawed feet worked just as well as his talon's.

The second shot struck against the upper thigh, losing its grip but still carrying the momentum of its charge, the Tandoshan tripped just as the third landed. Centre mass again. Quickly, Pyeth shielded himself, composing a frustrating caw as slaughter sprayed his wings.

Well, that's an hour of preening turned to waste. Pyeth thought mournfully.

"Thanks for that!" The woman addressed him, he bowed his head slightly, remaining silent.

"Name's Lesha." She continued.

"My name is Pyeth, formerly of nest Raffinki" He purred happily, hearing a noisy crash that made Pyeth turn suddenly to the sight of another being carried like a rag by one of the armoured hound creatures. Initially concerned, Pyeth tried to rush to the gentleman's aid, only to be outrun and halted by a large feline. The hound struggled a hurricane of sharp claws but the battle was already won, a strange pulse of energy surged from the feline into the hound sending its muscles into a spasm before falling still. Thankfully, the half-starved hound wasn't dead only unconsciously it's vast bulk protruding outwards with exhausted breaths.

Watching Lesha Weirr race to Verul Issant Verul Issant 's side he hastily joined him asking, "Are you injured, that was quite the display."

His tail flicked detecting the entrance of another predator, this one a far greater threat than the Tandoshans or Hounds had presented, Lesha identified it as an Ackley, but for him, it was no more than an overgrown spider. If a spider was large enough to swallow him whole and had Skar'kla talons for teeth.

"I don't suppose you have a cage big enough?" Pyeth asked taking a step back as he tried to formulate a plan. Of escape.
 
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I paid little attention to others who were around me. More focused upon those they had parading down in the pit. Making a show for any potential buyers for the purpose of drawing our attention. Of course it worked for the most part. Many could be heard talking about wanting one slave or another for various reasons. Even more so when some of them were quite impressive. Looking towards the sound of a woman who seemed to be rather boisterous, I did a second take with her face. Her question of violence was different than who I thought she was.

Of all people in the trillions counted within the galaxy, why in Tafos's name was she here?

Looking back at the pit through the window I was leaning on, I did everything to keep myself composed when answering.

"I do enjoy a fight, but a shame should you ruin that dress princess."

Shaking my head, with a voice filled with some spite and disgust. Playing the part of a Mandalorian who kept their face hidden. As was our way. Only reveling our face to those we trusted or loved.

"White is not a great color to hide blood, or gore."


Reaching to my side, a Kal Dagger was pulled from the sheath on my thigh. Using it to point to the slaves below, I just indicated we should be talking about them insead.

"Which one of these poor souls are you hoping to win in the auction?"

Looking over to her, the T-shaped visor customary of all Mandalorians stared blankly at her. Waiting for her answer to be boisterous, or to contradict him. Of all the people to be here, Lunara Azure, the next in line for a kingdom here to buy slaves? Last I knew, their view points were against slavery. However, people can change. I just hoped she changed for the better.

Lunara Azure Lunara Azure
 
@ Pyeth Raffinki Pyeth Raffinki @Lesha Weirr



" I'm doing alright thanks. I've been in worse scraped in my time. Lesha might actually have something big enough to contain it" Verul's words were calm and measured. The doctor knew for a fact that the ex-commando had transported creatures that size or larder before. Nature gave rise to all sorts of strange and titanic beasts. "But at the moment, unless I'm sorely mistaken, that cage is sitting on a transport ship well above us. So our prime directive is to subdue till the rest of the confederation take and hold the place." Though to be fair it had been a long time since the professor had actually engaged with something of this size. Most of his more recent days had been spent in creation and enhancement of his new anti-force species.

It was a good thing that the dynamis cat had just eaten. It would have to be quick on its feet in dealing with the ackley Verul very much doubted that it could take more than one hit from a beast with the Ackley. Pyeth seemed like he could handle himself. If Verul remembered correctly his species had a higher reflexes than humans - something that was required for high speed flight through low trees. In any case the attack needed to be pressed.

Verul made a motion with his non robotic hand. Seeing the gesture the dynamis cat began to race around the great reptiles feet. darting and weaving it put feline instincts to the test occasionally letting out a small bolt of lightening to keep the great beast focused on it. Verul for his part raised his prostethic hand and began to open up with his heavy repeater peppering the large beast with slugs. None of the locations were vital and Verul himself would make sure to patch the beast up when it was all over.

Just as things seemed to be going well for the doctor the paranormal decided to rear its ugly head. Another one of Verul's spectral passengers decided to make itself known. During the early nightmare days of his curse this particular entity had introduced itself as the Mother of Worms. It appeared as a heavily pregnant woman skin and organs riddled with writing parasites that burrowed in and out in a highly disconcerting manner. Much like the Flayed Man it seemed to manifest differently based around the living sentients in its area. This time it had chosen a member of Pyeth's race. It had bright plumage far more similar to down that its male counterpart it's head topped with crests. Its abdomen was bulging heavy with eggs and indeed it might have been quite a beautiful specimen were it not for the worms.

Grey and glistening their tiny lamprey mouths protruded from the body tiny tongues probing the air like serpents. Slithering protrusions hinted at larger parasites moving beneath the skin. With a wicked glint of malice within its eyes the specter opened its beak and let out an unearthly shriek. As it did so the Acklay's attention dropped from the cat completely. Its eyes now filled with madness each began to wander independently of each other one focused on Verul and the other on Pyeth. With one heavy claw scooped up a trandoshan as easily as if it were a doll and hurled it towards Verul. Not quick enough to dodge the assualt the professors power armor was struck by the missile throwing him back a good several meters.

The Acklay itself roared and leapt towards the avian hominid aiming to crush the feathered alien with its bulk. Turning to Lesha, the Mother of Worms gave a wink that almost seemed playful before dissolving into a swarm of writing spectral worms and then fading to nothing.
 

Cord caught her swords in the air as they were tossed to her, oh how part of her really missed this. The Monster inside really thirsted for blood and tried to crawl from the abyss Cord kept it buried in. Cord knew it was hungry it had not feed in true battle in a very long time now. She pushed it back down inside the monster’s appetite was endless and Cord knew it would not stop at the guards or slavers. If it got out everyone and everything would have to die.


She then took her foot off the boy and looked down at him and spoke to him quickly. “I suggest you stay down if you want to live.” He sort of looked up at her with one eye and noticed she had a sword in each hand and in that moment he agreed with her assessment burying his face back in the muck. Her fists clinched around the hilts of the swords as she readied her stance. She eyed Lavria with a smirk as the first couple of guards came lumbering in.


They must have been newish as they seemed very green one charged Lavria with it’s vibro axe above his head shouting something stupid. The other came at Cord slightly more coordinated then his partner and smart enough to use a weapon with a little reach an elctro whip. It snapped at Cord but missed the first time and Cord just shook her head. Cord looked back to Lavria. “Hardly a predicament.” She laughed as another lashing came her way.


This time she caught the lash around the sword in her left hand and let it wrap around the sword and then with a strong thrust she pulled the guard with the whip towards her. He frantically pushed at the electrocution button on the whip and sparks came off the blade of Cords sword as he did so, the sword absorbed and discharged the shock each time. The sword in her right hand thrust into the man’s guts and they began to spill out on the boy laying face down in the muck. With a quick second jerk, Cord removed the sword and the guard fell back letting go of the eltro whip falling to the ground where he would die momentarily.


“To easy……” Cord spoke to soon as a dozen other guards pushed the rabid crowd out of their way, the crowd now running for the exits. The Dozen guards began to circle the pit where the boy, Lavria and Cord were. She should have known the two green guards were the warm up act nothing was ever easy.
 
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T A G S | Aries Creed Aries Creed

Nimue could see the reflection of his grin in the viewport. The dazzling whites of his teeth as he shifted confidently from the wall to her side.

Malvern ego was instantly recognizable across the entire galaxy. Since Aries had crossed through the tear in between two universes, Nimue was coming to the realisation that Malvern ego must be recognizable anywhere. Even in a completely separate timeline, with different versions of Adron, Alessandra, herself even. This overinflated personality was still the forefront of every Malvern. Adron’s ego had taken Nimue many years to tolerate. It had slowly shifted from infuriating to amusing. That was how she coped. However, Aries wore it far better than the man who sired him. On him, it was endearing. Attractive, almost.

However, she was in no laughing mood. His sultry tone and dramatic movements were enough to crack the thinnest of smiles on her face, but nothing more. “This is not a joke, Aries.” She spoke firmly, but there were hints of amusement littered throughout her tone. Nimue was not normally one for the melodramatic, but if she had not seen this event in a prophecy it would have made a fine holofilm. “The entire fate of the galaxy rests on our shoulders today. We cannot take that load lightly.”

Nimue turned to look at him now, charcoal gaze shifting from the viewport to his chiselled features, but he had his focus on the slowly approaching planet. The high priestess watched as the realisation slowly dawned on his face. He had spoken little of his past, of the universe and timeline he had left behind, but Nimue knew enough to know that this prophecy rang close to home. Rang close to the destruction and death that he had unwillingly escaped. When Aries spoke again, Nimue furrowed her milk-white brows. She had expected this of him. This foolhardy heroicness that seemed to present itself in all men when the women they loved were faced with potential danger.

She allowed him to continue, her face unshifting in its sternness even through his confident display. When he reached out to graze her cheek with the back of her hand, to make his plea for her to stay, Nimue did not falter. “No.” She replied when he was finished, with such a firm tone that that one single word was enough to make Aries know it was not up for debate. “If you do this alone you will most certainly fail. If I allow you to do this alone, the risk to our child will not be minimized. I will not turn tail and run, I will not force my sisters and I to live out the rest of our days on some backwater planet in fear of what lay beyond our borders. I will not allow them to suffer such a fate, nor will I doom our child to a future as bleak as that.”

Nimue finally rose from her seat, as the proximity alarm began to blare. She took Aries’ hands in her own, entwining their fingers impossibly. “For the sake of our child, and the sake of the entire galaxy, we do this together.”
 
Nimue's words were met with a few of Aries' own. "Who's joking...?" The man returned, however his face had shifted to reflect the seriousness of the moment that rested before them.

Had he truly expected Nimue to remain behind? No. Had he believed it was worth asking? Not really, but he lost little from the venture. Nimue was ages older than Aries and when it came to the powers of The Force she was the more advanced of the two by far. Aries could not deny this, nor did he ever try. Raised among Knights and Witches, Aries was a firm combatant with a powerful knowledge of the Dark Side of the Force, but that would not be enough this time. As Nimue intertwined her fingers with his own, his lips curled into a slight smile. He enjoyed the close feeling of the woman's cool skin laid upon his own.

A hand rested over her swollen belly and he looked to her, leaning forward to press his lips to hers for but a shallow moment. "You're as stubborn as a Gundark." He said lowly, before leaning down to press his forehead to hers endearingly. His hand came up, sweeping through the fine threads of her hair. He enjoyed touching her, feeling the realness that was the woman he'd come to love. Nimue was everything to Aries and he realized that he could not allow any harm to come to her. Especially not now. This thought caused the Force to writhe within him, his lips curling into a calm smile as he used this torrent of emotion as a source for his own power.

She made him stronger.

He felt a pounding slam through his head, causing his focus on the Force to falter for a moment. The man groaned, pressing a hand to his temple as the poundings consumed him. He breathed out, his eyes opening and turning towards the viewport. The planet grew ever closer, yet the Dark Side of the Force gripped the man's very being, as if demanding he approach. "It's...It's a lot more powerful than I thought. I'm still...I'm still not entirely tethered to this dimension. Whatever this abomination is, it's powerful in the Dark Side." He said, turning to Nimue with an almost unsure gaze. The man stood to his full height before unclasping the lightsaber from his waist. He gave the hilt of the double-bladed lightsaber a quick flip before flashing Nimue a certain smile. "After this we're going on vacation." He told her.

The ship came down on the planet's surface without incident. As the loading ramp to the ship came down in the center of a small valley. This valley had a single defining landmark, a massive plateau with the mouth of a cave system laid before them. Aries had donned the armor of the Knight's Obsidian, his lightsaber clasped to a magna-strip on the back of his tunic. Pulling his hood over his head he exhaled as the Dark Side of the Force spilled from the mouth of the cave. Aries paused, dipping into the Force to reveal what laid within. He could feel it. It was not sentient...yet it had an ebb and flow much like fire or an energy source. However, there was one unique feeling that Aries felt in his very soul.

Hunger.

Aries looked back to Nimue before making his way forward, entering the mouth of the cave.

Nimue Nimue
 

Karlie Lynn Destat

Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)
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Location: City center
Ship: LCX-3
Attire: Casual
Tagging: Open
Post: 4

It didn't take much to blend in with the middle caste, for she had enough credits on her person and clean off-world style attire. Manny of the well to do upper caste on Loovria seemed fond of off world style clothing and that put Karlie out of suspicion as to whom she were and as to why she were on the system. The lower caste certainly couldn't afford such imported attire, despite that what she were wearing, let alone basic food and shelter. In retrospect, all Karlie were wearing was by all standards, Galactic casuals.

Needless to say; a credit here, a few there and she came to acquire an arena pass.
As to why she were drawn to it, the roar of the crowd inside had all the fletching of a fighting arena. She had read in the files that the gladiator games were back. It were one thing reading someone else's report on the matter; another to actually bear witness to it yourself.

Karlie didn't have to reach any bleacher seat to know what was transpiring below. She slowed and came to a stop just before coming out into the aisle. There was blood in the air.... screams and shouts for it, like a chant that ran cold up her spine...enough to stop Karlie in her tracks before her eyes could come down upon the human lives at the edge of a blade.

"Hey you....you're missing the best part!" shouted a young woman close to Karlie's own age, noticing the blonde in the entrance way, just before the aisle to where she and others were rooting for carnage.
"Come on up...there's room here. Come on, before you miss it!" The young woman motioned for Karlie to join her group.

The smell of the crowd's sweat, their universal cant for life to be taken had Karlie hesitate a moment. Her heart were beating a kilometer a minute and for that mere moment, she couldn't take any step, less she fall on her knees and cover her ears of the horrid chant and cry for carnage.

But she were here to bear witness...to see for herself and report back. Oh how difficult it were just to hear what her eyes had yet to come upon. But she had too. She knew she had to see and report back the truth first hand.
She were IBI (Internal Bureau of Investigation) for her system Castagne's Cabinet. She had to report what her own eyes could see.

She nodded, faking a smile. Wording a 'sure' that were drowned out by the feverish spectators, Karlie came out into the open bleachers and took up next to the young woman.
"Your first time huh?!" The girl asked over the roar of the crowd. It were more that Karlie read her lips than actually heard her words, as Karlie's eyes still couldn't look down into the arena grounds.

"My first time, I puked my breakfast and lunch...Hahaha..." The girl shouted, clapping and pumping her fist up in the air as so many around them were doing.
"But hey...you'll get the hang of it! It's really nothing more than blood sport!
Ohhh LOOK!..." The girl nudged Karlie with her elbow to look for herself.
"Ahg...Oh his head got lobbed off in one swing!...Yay!!! Whoop whoop whoop!..." The girl could have been the announcer for Karlie without even looking could envision such an atrocity.

"Gah...!" Karlie shook her head and vacated the aisle, nearly stumbling back toward the way she had come in.
She were sick. Sick to her stomach, sick up to her ears as the crowd just wasn't letting up.
No way she could be there among the crowd of spectators, let alone look for herself. It was just too much...Too, too much for her to handle.

"Frak frak frak!!..." Karlie cussed all the way out of the arena. But she couldn't escape the sounds, the roar and cheer of the crowd.

"Hahahaha...daddy's little princess can't take the sport?...hahahaha..." She were teased upon scrambling out of the arena.
"Snowflake!...hahaha...run!...run to daddy...run...hahaha..."So the degenerates taunted her as she ran from the arena.

----

It took some time and footwork to finally quiet down the cheering crowd to a point of just incoherent distant roar.

"Hey....you Ok?" Came a voice. this one had some sincerity in it.
Karlie turned to see whom it were. A man, not much older than her, but well enough dressed to put him in the upper caste.

"Wha-?" Karlie weren't sure of the man's motive or intention in his approach to her.

"You're not from around here are you?....listen...relax. I'm not meaning you any harm. " he said, stopping just two meters from her.
"I noticed you coming from the arena." he then said, putting up his hands as for her to see they were empty.

"Not everyone on Loovria condones these sports....just so you know.
Can I ask where you are from?...name's Mason."

"Karlie..." She replied, after eyeing the man a moment. His eyes...they showed sincerity...empathy.


"...and no. No, I'm not from around here...no."
 

Lesha Weirr

Guest
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TAG: Verul Issant Verul Issant | Pyeth Raffinki Pyeth Raffinki

All of haran broke loose all at once.

The good Doctor's new pet did a well enough job to try and distract the Acklay. Long enough for Lesha to put new clips in her pistols and then to unclip her rifle from her back. But that was about all good news there was.
"Verul! Put a leash on your specters, would you?!" she called as the worm-covered spirit made its presence known to everyone, including the Acklay. It was quite hideous. She had not seen this one before. Lesha shook her head in disgust before bringing her battle-rifle to her shoulder.

When the Acklay threw a dead Trandoshan at Verul, Lesha fired a few volleys of three-round bursts of HE rounds at the crustacean. Not that they did much damage to its armoured shell, because the creature kept peddling forward to Pyeth.
"Kark me!" she exclaimed as she started to move to the Rishii's aid, clipping her rifle back on her back as she went.

She stopped about halfway, looking around for something that could help. She pursed her lips. Anything.
"Verul! Get your butt off the ground! I need your cat to keep that thing busy! I need time!" she called while the good Doctor was still buried beneath dead Trandoshan a few feet away.

Her green eyes finally caught sight of some flag streamers against the sides of the arena for decorative purposes. That was probably the closest she was going to get to rope at a moment's notice. She made a beeline for the side closest to them and grabbed hold of the strung-together flags and pulled.
"Pyeth! Let's get this around that thing's legs!" she called to the Rishii as she kept pulling for some decent length to work with.

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Karlie Lynn Destat

Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)
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Location: In the city, about
Ship: LCX-3
Attire: Casual
Weapon: Unarmed
Tagging: Open
Post: 5

"What's it to you? Where are you from?" Karlie replied, eyes, peripherals keeping tabs as to what was going around them.

"I see. Simple question then. You carrying?" The man then went and asked.

"What do you think?" Karlie replied.
Like, where was she going to hide a blaster on her person anyway? No, she weren't armed, if that was what he were asking. But she were counting on him not being armed either. Although that were difficult to asses as his attire, although certainly not from a bargain basement had quite a few ideal places where he could conceal a blaster...or two.

The 'man' had introduced his self as Mason, or so it were given. Karlie had given her name, shortly following. There was no point in lying, as whatever was going to go down would do so with or without a name.

Mason eyed her a moment, before nodding.
"Come with me" he then said after looking about to see if anyone were looking at them suspiciously.
None did as the entire scenario and tempo all around seemed lawless. Not in a sense of Chaos, but in a euphoric 'do as one pleased' kind of anarchy.


"Why?....
Why would I do that?" Karlie herself took in her immediate surrounding. This man, a stranger by the name of Mason were asking her to go with him? What did she look like?...(don't answer that)

" Because I know an ally when I see one. What I don't understand is; why come to Loovria unarmed and unescorted?
You don't seem like you could be a Holo-Net reporter... they are reportedly being snatched off the streets and pitted in the arena. The very same arena you hastily departed from."


"Ok, so you spotted me leaving like that and followed me. You still haven't answered my question as to why should I go with you?"

"Miss...who ever you may be..., you aren't very good at what you supposedly think you are here to do. Right now, to the lot, you seemed just that, a spoiled little princess who snuck out of her daddy's house to see what kind of amusement and thrill she could find in the big city."

"Stop.
You don't know me and I sure don't know you. If you have a blaster then out with it, because whatever you may have surmised, you surmised wrong, Mr Marson."


"Mason...." he then said, standing his ground, not making any adverse motion to do anything else but stand there and continue to talk.
" I have to give you credit for that. But yes, real name's Mason and I'm pretty certain you are one of the CIS operatives that have been dropping in on our plight here."


"Your plight?"

"Loovria's plight... I'm meaning the right majority of us-" He stopped a moment before lowering his voice. "... a good portion of our population are more civil than what you have just experienced from the arena.
The only factor in loosing a grip on our civility is that our party is greatly under-armed. The lesser number of the uncivilized seemed to hold the majority of control over common laws and what remains of our policing authority. In short, the radicals have regressed to anarchy again...the stain of our previous existence has spoiled all which had been achieved to lay our barbaric past behind.
We can do this for the remainder of the afternoon, Miss.
Or...or we can get you off the streets before someone other than a good Samaritan finally spots as to you being a meddling foreigner...or a reporter.
Both...both have their day in the arena.
I'm asking you...please come with me, Miss Karlie."

"I'm sorry...but no way I'm going with-" Karlie were saying before she spotted a few men heading over to them.

Mason got wind of her reaction and looked over in the direction she had been eyeing before she cut her sentence short.

"Shiet..." He said as the three men came about surrounding them, covering good angles.

"Well well... Constable Mason.
Fine time to be running into you today...
What have you got here?...a friend or suspect?"
The more brawly looking one asked, as his fellow goons looked around to see if Mason had other associates with him.

"Ally you had said." Karlie muttered, but loud enough for mason to hear.

"Oh..now you want my help.." Mason replied back, readying for the men to rush them.


"I were more meaning me saving you."
 
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Location: Slave Pit | Loovria
Wearing: Dress
Tagging: Garza Garza

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A pale delicate hand pressed against the glass of the window, a pattern of frost spreading out from where the woman’s skill touched the window. There were times when her emotions, her temper proved too much for her, when it bled out into the force sending the temperature around her plummeting. It was a weakness, a failure of control that would have left her mentors gasping in shock, in dismay at the state of their prized pupil…would have if they were around to see it.

Crystal blue eyes looked through the window, fastening in on the mass of slaves in the pit’s floor, being parading forward to be introduced to the crowd one by one.


“How about…all of them? Although, I wasn’t thinking about paying or playing the auction game.”

The woman’s voice was soft enough not to carry, though laden with the very ice she was on the edge of summoning.

“Those poor unfortunates have already been through enough, I’d much rather take them somewhere…safe. Somewhere they don’t need to worry about a slaver’s whip or electric prod again.”

If the ideals she’d grown up with meant anything, then it was upto her to uphold them. To protect the people who weren’t able to against the hand of Chaos…only her means had changed. Where once she’d hoped to stand as a shield between innocents and those who would abuse them the woman now understood that exercising those who would prey on others was the best way.

Offense was the best form of defense.

A half-turn away, shoulder resting on the glass now as the woman turned that gaze onto him, eyes seeking out where his would be through the helmet.


“And you? What brings someone like you to a…hovel like this?”

Hovel was too kind a word for this pit, a putrid hive was a better description.

The Hora had always lived by a code of honour that had seemed unbreakable, finding him here was a surprise, a welcome one but a surprise no less. Still, if you needed someone to watch your back while you turned the underworld against you, well who better?

A suble wave of a finger was all it took to engage the locking mechanisms on the doors, moving it back sent sparks falling from the electronics. Not enough to hold against a serious effort to get in or out, but just enough to buy some time.


“Well, you know I’ve always been partial to red dresses now you mention it.”
 

Lavria Xedrim

Guest
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TAG: Cord Starfall Cord Starfall

A bumbling band of baboons.

The whole bunch of them that fell over the side. One dared to barrel towards her with a very stupid expression on his face while brandishing a vibro-axe. Lavria let out a snicker.
"Really? Shame." she said, her eyes a bright gold as she harnessed the Force.

The fool with the axe didn't get far. Poor guy. Lavria only had to lift two fingers from her one lightsaber to snap his neck with the Force. She looked over at Cord who just embedded her sword into the Guard's gut.
"Messy much?" she asked Cord with a sneer before more fools surrounded the pit, rifles making the familiar zweeeee as they were brought to shoulders.

This would be fun.

For the first time in a long time, Lavria was back in her old shell as she stepped forward with a sinister smile while twirling her sabers. She briefly looked back at the boy on the ground. Did she care about the innocents yet? No. That ship had flown when she killed two of her own people and set herself on an irredeemable course. Was she supposed to care? Probably. Why was she doing this? Because she was ordered to. If anything, she had followed some kind of order her entire life.

Being outnumbered by blasters brought her back into her element. The poor fools just had to think further than the length of their noses when they drew down on two Force users. With the flick of her one hand, she ripped a few blasters from hands and dropped them well into the pit. After this, the others started blasting.

Lavria dropped into a defensive stance, deflecting with both sabers.
"We need to get out of this pit! They have the advantage, currently!" she called over her shoulder to Cord, deflecting a bolt back to its shooter, hitting him squarely in the chest.

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Arshad Nasr

Guest
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TAG: Jayde Natari | G 3 M 1 N 1 G 3 M 1 N 1

People tend to downplay the circumstances when they talk of slaving atrocities.

It is usually just described as horrible. But when one stands there, looking out over the pits, you realise how bad it really is. How the upper class of Loovria took pleasure at the overwhelming smell and the sight of starving people, was above Arshad.

The General moved to an especially ripe smelling pit where the people really looked to be needing the most help. They would start here. He stood and listened for a while as the slaver tried very hard to sell these people to the nobles that kept moving on to avoid the smell.
"You sir! I will make you a special offer for the lot of them! They are strong, skilled workers!" the man directed at Arshad with a million credit smile and a singsong voice.

The hardened warrior looked down at Jayde.
"Time to show them what we Dejoka'ar are made of. Move when I move, little Jayde. Let's set these people free." he told her calmly. He then lifted is head and brought his arm to his mouth once more.
"Mefahqai, on my signal, you move in." he told his escort commander over the comms.
"Ah-i, Kuhmruni." the man replied to his Minister.

With that, Arshad whipped around and grabbed hold of the slaver with the Force and hurled him across several pits before he touched down in the muck of one on the far side. The slaves there where flabbergasted for only a second before they reacted and swarmed on him. Arshad drew both his Force-imbued saber and his pistol as the guards started converging on them while buyers all ran for the exits.

The closest guard flicked his electro-whip at Arshad, who caught it around his sword. Pulling his arm back, he had the guard where he wanted him. He then fired a shot straight between the eyes of the guard.
"Jayde! Help these people out of the botorr!" he called to her as he motioned to the slaves in the pit.
Two more guards were barreling towards Jayde. Arshad threw a Force push at the leading one, throwing him back into the guard behind him. They both rolled into another slave pit where they were swiftly dealt with.

Before long, Arshad's squad and those helping them had started making their way through the crowd that were still congesting the exits. At the same time, the guards switched over to their battle-rifles.

That might get a bit more interesting.

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T A G S | Aries Creed Aries Creed

Nimue found it in herself to let out a hollow chuckle in response to his Gundark comment. When Aries lent forward to press his forehead against hers, Nimue felt a wave of calmness overtake the anxiety that had been building up from the minute they entered the ship.

Aries was quickly becoming the sole reason for the peace Nimue found in the galaxy. No matter what stresses she had, or what weighed heavily upon her mind, Aries had a way of wiping that all out in an instant. He was instant-on protecting her, making sure she did not come into any harm, but Nimue was just as dedicated to ensuring the same for him. If they were to take on this danger, they would take it on together. They would succeed together or fail together, but neither would be left alone in the galaxy. Neither would be without the other if she could help it, and she could always help it.

Smiling again, Nimue nodded her head. “A vacation sounds wonderful. It has been centuries since I’ve been on a proper vacation.” The last break she had taken from her work with the Silmä was to take part in a ritual of some of the vampirika on the opposite side of the galaxy. A feeding frenzy, as a mortal might name it. The actual feeding had been relaxing, but the moments up to it had been far from it, so Nimue did not consider it a proper vacation. As the ship began its descent to Loovria, Nimue find herself idly wondering what a vacation with Aries would be like. The thoughts were a welcome and warming distraction as they sped toward uncertainty, but it would not last long.

The shuttle shuddered as it touched down on the ground, hissing and groaning as the loading ramp stretched out to meet the surface. Nimue let out a tight sigh. All the tension that Aries had washed away came rolling back the minute he left her side.

Cautiously, she followed Aries out of the shuttle.

The slender fingers on her left hand reached out to fiddle with the ring that sat snuggly on her right. A rather ingenious gift from a rather ingenious friend. The shadow came quickly, blocking out the deadly rays of sunlight that broke through the clouds above. Though as she finally cast her gaze out to the valley, she realised she would not need the power of the ring for long. At the end of the valley, shrouded in darkness even Nimue could not see through, lay a cave. She did not need to step closer to feel the shadow that dominated it. An almost tangible entity that twisted and writhed against the cave walls, crushing it in eternal blackness. That was not what held her back, there was something else that radiated from the cave. Something that Nimue had a particular familiarity with.

A deep, desperate hunger.

Nimue licked her lips, the hand that bore the ring tensing at her side. She was no new-born vampirika. Hunger now was not the way hunger had been when the blood in her veins turned to ice and her heart stilled forever. Hunger was not the overwhelming and overpowering sensation it once was. She had learned to control it, use it to her advantage. Even if she had not fed for days she could easily adapt, but the hunger that poured from the mouth of the cave? It was like the hunger of her younger days. The hunger that constantly scraped at the corners of her mind, chewing and biting the pit of her stomach with each wretched pang. It was even worse now that there were two mouths to feed.

It took her a moment or two to regain control. A moment in which Aries walked forward to enter the cave. When his scent was lost to the shadow. Nimue exhaled. She had known this task would be difficult, but not like this. Finally, the statue the hunger had made of Nimue shifted. Her black silk robes billowed by her feet as they guided her faithfully to the entrance of the cave.

Somehow, it was darker inside than it had appeared outside. Normally, Nimue and darkness worked perfectly together. Almost in sync, as though they were born from one another, but this was a different sort of darkness. One that Nimue could not see herself so readily dancing with. “Bað okkur í ljósi þínu, blessaðu okkur með sjón.” Her wispy tone echoed off the dank, damp walls. Barely audible over the haunting drip of liquid seeping through the cracks in the mountain above. At her words, a soft glow illuminated her form, casting a glittering golden light over the immediate area. She could still barely see more than a few inches in front of them, but it was better than walking blind. It was better than chancing the darkness. It was not that Nimue was afraid of it. Nobody was ever truly scared of darkness, but there was every reason to be afraid of what lived in it.

“Come.” She spoke plainly, the apprehension obvious in her tone as she began to navigate her way across the debris-strewn ground. “This cave is old.” Nimue continued. “Older than me. Older than the Silmä, even.” One of her hands reached out to touch the wall of the cave. It was covered in a soft green moss that stemmed from the ground, every inch of it dripping with a sticky substance. Nimue frowned. She had assumed it to be water. What else could have the patience to eat through rock? When she withdrew her fingers, to the golden light that surrounded her body, Nimue’s face turned grim.

The tips of her fingers, ordinarily a shade of white that could have rivalled the moon, were covered in a deem crimson sheen. The high priestess quickly dispersed it on her robes as she turned to look at Aries. “Blood.” He was no fool, he could have likely guessed that for himself, but Nimue spoke aloud for herself more than anything. The silence of the cave was not the type that Nimue found peaceful. She would rather hear the echo of her own voice bashing loudly off the cave walls then the steady drip, drip, drip that was found in the silence.

“I do not know how far these caves stretch on for.” She spoke again, drowning out the drips. “And I am not certain of what we will find waiting for us at the end.” That was what she feared the most. How could you prepare for disaster when you could not say for sure what that disaster will be? How can you ready yourself for an attack when you are not sure who will be attacking? Or where? Or when? Nimue was not accustomed to this feeling. To not knowing.​
 

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