Dominion The Veil of Elrood | SO Dominion of Elrood

[Saeth Zambrano]

Objective: ?? - Seeking out Pravus Zambrano ​

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Ever since the destruction of their great and noble planet, Saeth had been more adventurous in her movements through the Galaxy. It would have been more than easy for her to remain on Malsheem, overseeing her many Acolytes, lighting her braziers and incense and mumbling to the stars, but Space was not a sufficient vessel within which to contain her or her ruminations. It felt empty and lifeless and obsolete. No, what she sought now was a place to sink their roots into, a world to sculpt into the vision of their Gods. It would be as they saw fit, and she would be the architect of their design.​

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Elrood was not proving to be all that she had hoped for. Something about the world just seemed off. She could feel the Gods much better here than on the metal world they called refuge, but it didn't taste right. Her nose wrinkled, face stuck in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction. Still her veil covered most of that. Here she was bearing the much larger, far more ornate headpiece of her station, countless beads and trinkets falling down to frame her half-tinted face. The reds could be seen through the white chiffon, like blood dripping down from her forehead. In a way she supposed it was, though it was a different kind of blood. A dried, powdered form.​

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Together with her small entourage she walked the city streets, parting the throngs of lesser beings with barely a stretch of her finger. She didn't look upon any of them, even when her gaze was in their direction. No, through them instead. As though they were rippling ghosts. Translucent... Transparent, even. While Elrood had been a bust, there was one thing of worth she could feel in the air, taste on the breeze. The presence of one she had not been graced with in quite some time.​

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Perhaps this was why the Gods had seen fit to bring her here. Perhaps they wished for her to look upon that most blessed of Zambrano's, her most beloved nibling. Scorned by so many, it was the Grand Archimandrite who saw beneath the surface to what most overlooked. The wickedness of his mind, the creative splendor he wrought upon the Galaxy, his maddened visions for all that had been desecrated. Nua'anku and Nemeroth stood at either of his shoulders, the Mother and the Destroyer weaving the threads of chaos and change through his fingertips.​

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So unabashedly himself.​

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She took each step up to his apartment with a level of grace which left her seeming to float. Saeth had reached the door just in time for a wave of energy most putrid and volatile to knock it open; her attendants flailed in the wake of it, though the Grand Archimandrite held firm. The tinkling of her bangles and beads were all that showed that she was even really present and not some vision or hologram.​

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Saeth crossed the threshold, approaching her nephew even as the horde encroached behind her and his sinewy assistant reached for weapons formed of bone. Her eyes drifted down to the figure strapped upon the table, the dead made live again, and a hum of approval followed. ​

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"If your ears offend you so, why not pluck them out..." She raised a hand, the most concrete motion she'd made in quite some time, and a steady silence seemed to bubble up around the table beyond which chaos continued to reign. The clash of zombified pawns and nebulous netherfiends at her back drew nary a single glance from the woman. "Sebastian, dear, most blessed of sons... It seems The Daughter has seen fit to expand your ménage..."​

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The raised hand lowered, one slender index finger extended to touch down upon the forehead of the writhing beast. "It hungers, Nephew... Now whatever shall we do about that?"​

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

While he didn't actively stop her from tending to his tattoo, Arcturus wasn't the most helpful either. He kept that arm relatively still for her but the rest of him was still in motion. It was sweet when she fussed over him like this, though he didn't see the immediate need to. He'd suffered through and survived much worse... Though he supposed he'd be just as concerned if the roles were reversed. She was his, after all, and he was hers.​

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"Hey, I'm not saying it is here for just me" he retorted, raising one brow, "But you must admit, the timing is... impeccable." It was almost as though he had planned it. Serendipitous to be sure.​

​

The 'droid seemed to be trying to speculate on, and figure out, the cause of it all. Arcturus couldn't give an answer with any firm certainty when it came to the zombies themselves, but that storm? "That is belonging to the Nether" he stated, pointing through the now open blinds to the raging storm overhead, "I've seen it before, tearing through Whisperstorm... The sands it kicked up..." Arcturus looked distinctly satisfied by the thought of it, "I only wish I'd gathered more. Still, freeing Seydon of Arda more than made up for it." ​

​

Where was he? Oh, right, rambling as ever... "I can imagine no good coming from its collision with Realspace. Reality and space as we know it may well fracture." Or the storm could snap back in on itself... Or whatever rift had been torn open could be sealed back up. Hopefully not completely, though. Having another entrance back to his home would be most useful, especially out this way.​

​

Rhiannon soon had the door open, and he too found himself struck with a feeling that left him feeling on edge, his nerves run ragged in its wake. He shuddered. "Chaos it's so unnatural" he grumbled, after he steadied himself and moved to approach the doorway, "The Nether and Realspace aren't meant to tangle like this..."​

​

He reached down to his belt, and snatched up the Compass of Kal. The black 'metal' which formed the flattened disc housed decidedly normal liquid, naught but water. Well, that was a good sign at least. "Reality hasn't entirely come undone then" he mumbled, as he set it back into place just in time to hear the 'droid's request. Rather than be the one to cushion the feral's fall, Arcturus stepped aside and gave her the room to shoot. He trusted that Rhi would get it, his focus was most definitely more on the storm and the potential collapse of normalcy.​

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"I wonder" he murmured. Thoughts of Seydon spurred him on toward other trinkets lining his belt, and he snapped open the Korriban Compass. Arcturus knew full well that it wasn't meant for tracking Nether Rifts, but it could spike in the wake of a nexus or anomaly. Unluckily for him, this planet was currently filled with Sith carrying all manner of artifacts, made of Sithspawn remnants. The trio of needles span helplessly. He tapped the glass, then sighed.​

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Hopefully the fallen zombie would give them more answers than his knick-knacks.​

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Ishani Dinn Calligenia Io ​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Rhi just smiled up at Arc and went on bandaging his arm, tying off the gauze.

Arc mentioned a place called Whisperstorm, and somebody named Seydon of Arda. Rhi had no clue what he was talking about, but assumed he did. "This is not our universe's first rodeo. I'm sure it'll be fine. But this planet might not be after this."

The android gave her name, Calligenia Io, AKA Callie. "Uh, I'm Rhiannon. You can call me Rhi. And this is..." She glanced at Arc, expecting him to introduce himself, but he had already busied himself with his Compass. What a nerd. "...This is Arcturus. He lets me call him Arc. You probably can, too."

“I’ll shoot! Can one of you use your powers to make sure she doesn’t get injured when she falls?”

"That would be me!" Rhi inflicted the Force upon the crazed woman, stopping her from falling. How shooting her in the head with a sonic weapon was supposed to keep her alive, Rhi didn't know, but then she wasn't an expert when it came to sonic weaponry. Maybe Callie's sonic gun was more cutesy than the types Rhi was used to seeing?

Arcturus Dinn Calligenia Io​

 

[Calligenia Io]

Location: Tattoo Parlor, Elrood City - Elrood
Objective: Survive - Uncover the Affliction
Tags: Ishani Dinn Arcturus Dinn

The afflicted woman went limp as soon as the sonic blast struck her, at which point Rhiannon broke her fall and pulled her form into the tattoo parlor. For her part, Calligenia guided the woman onto a nearby couch, before taking off her medical backpack and setting to work on hooking her up to an IV. Within a few moments, Calligenia had carried out a quick assessment of her patient, diagnosing her with a minor concussion in the process. Accordingly, she mixed Antishock into the IV, in addition to Doze to keep her sedated, after running the dosage calculations in her mind.

“A Nether storm…” Calligenia contemplated as she worked. “Would this be a Nether plague then?” The HRD asked, glancing towards the red-haired Lorrdian as she did.

In spite of the fact that Calligenia didn’t know all of what Arcturus was referring to, she sensed that she had encountered someone who at the very least possessed more knowledge of the Nether than most Sith.

“So, this is a result of an incursion of the Nether into realspace.” Calligenia repeated. ”Is there a way to isolate an individual from the deleterious effects of the Nether?” She continued. Then, came another, more concerning question.

“Is this permanent?”

Either way, Calligenia sensed that the implications were dark.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armorweave Medical Dress
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Droid
    
    • Sorenn-Syrush Medical Remote Mark I
  • Utility
    
    • Galen-series Medisensor
    • Series II Military Aid Kit
• Healing Blaster Type A
• Dashade Sonic Disruptor
• Bacta Grenade (4)
  
  • Loaded with Bacta-H

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

OBJECTIVE IA: SURVIVE THRIVE​

Blood, like liquid mist, seemed to pour out of Darron. Long gone were the days of frailty and inability. Perfected through alchemy, he was a boney and muscular creature, standing tall enough to see eye to eye with his master. The smell of death roiled off of him like a shadow, dogging his step, as he called the force to his favor and disappeared just as the entourage entered the room. A slash could be heard, a scythe cutting through the empty air, as the spray of red and the screams of madness followed. He came to a sliding stop across the city streets as those behind him fell in halves, washing the roads in blood.

There were countless more and what uncertainty existed in him, in the apartment, was now replaced with a bloodlust that would never be sated. A thing of perfect design.
​

Just as the Grand Sorcerer assumed the day couldn't get any better, he was greeted by a specter of his past. One that he not realized he had so dreadfully missed until reminded of it - there was never time to linger on the things that couldn't be. But now, with hands wringing over one another, his expression lit up.

"Without my ears, how could I be so blessed by the Greatest of Voices..." He shrilled softly, enamored as the High Priestess entered his transient place of worship. A place where the work of Gods took place, cutting through the mortal domain as he deemed necessary. It was not beyond his own perspective to assume ownership of the thinning between this realm and the next, the green aura and mania laid directly at his awkward feet. "My dearest Aunt, you always remind me of the possibilities."

Now was not the time of prostration, not when godly work required his attention. Opening back up the grimoire, he fanned through the velum and stopped on a particular page. Hand held over the pages, he turned a joyful expression towards the Grand Archimandrite. "Let us swim in the good work." The pages took on a vibrant light, like lightning striking through a field of lavender, as his runes hummed. The zombie began to spasm and growl, frothing and foaming, as the arcs of lightning bounced outwards from the book and ruptured flesh. With screams that could have easily been mistaken for a symphony, arms and claws broke free from the monsters chest as it lashed out and frantically ripped at its bindings. With almost no effort, it tore the leather and made for the Priestess.

Pravus lifted his hand and cooed. "Now now, my child. We aren't your enemies. The people of this world are. They gave you to me, a broken thing." It seemed to settle with his words. "Torn from your family, hospitalized and abandoned for your sickness. To them, you were nothing. To me, quite the opposite. Now look at you..." He looked around for a mirror and recalled that Darron had broken it when viewing his own image. "Ah, never the mind." It growled. "Yes, The Great Voice was right. You are quite hungry aren't you. Go now..." He smiled and patted the bloody mop of hair that crowned the beast. "Seek out those that wronged you. And remember." He wagged a cautionary finger. "Pace yourself. No tummy aches, okay?" His tone was that of a dotting father.

It jumped off the table and in a rampage, ran down the hallway like a bull in a china shop, extra appendages ripping at the walls and decorations. Pravus let out a sigh and hugged his grimoire to his chest. "When your children find passion, its so hard to not be excited for them." Looking over to his Aunt, he smiled so wide that his bulbous eyes were pressed inward from his sharp cheekbones. "Would you walk with me, dearest Aunt? I so wish to hear how the family fairs."​

Tag: Saeth Zambrano

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

"Huh?" he said, when Rhiannon spoke his name; it took him a few seconds to catch up and realize that introductions were being made. "Oh, yeah, sure, call me whatever..." With a snap he closed the Korriban Compass and returned it to its place, then glanced down to the blood splattered on his shirt. "I mean, there's plenty of samples around... Might help, even if you do get a live one."​

​

Oh, and get a live one they did. Arcturus just sort of stared for a moment as the stunned corpse was pulled into the tattoo shop. Then his brain caught up with him, and he hurriedly stepped forward to pick the damn thing up and set it wherever necessary. "Sorry, didn't realize you were dragging it inside."​

​

Stepping away from the sofa, he let the 'droid work and got back to his own (admittedly far less scientific) calculations. Arcturus was itching for answers, longing to discover if the strange phenomena was happening on the other side of the rift too. In the Netherworld. Was reality seeping in there..? Suring the place up? He grimaced at that thought.​

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"Part of me wants to test out the tat'" he mumbled, looking toward Rhiannon, "If it's bleeding into reality, I wonder if it's not working both ways..?"​

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Calli drew his attention away from being dragged into the nether and back to the matter at hand.​

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"Could be, there's plenty in the Nether which can cause... mutations. Reality isn't really fixed there." His mind drifted back to the Dreaming Dark, whose pitch-black, inky denizens fed on sanity and life. He hadn't exactly seen what became of those who succumbed to the darkness, though Spencer had come close. Losing one's identity, memories... "It might not even be an infection so to speak. Just a warping of our perceptions... Or theirs."​

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Would it go back to normal if the rift was shut? He tried to think back to the time that the whole Galaxy came undone and the Nether swallowed individuals up, but he'd been among the few left behind.​

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"Right now I think it's a matter of proximity. If you have a ship maybe breaking out of atmosphere will help, getting this one away from its pull. It's impossible to say whether it's permanent until then..." ​

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He looked back to Rhiannon, and frowned. "Do you trust me?" he asked...​

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Ishani Dinn Calligenia Io ​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"Part of me wants to test out the tat. If it's bleeding into reality, I wonder if it's not working both ways..?"

Having helped to drag in the body of the infected woman, Rhi now stopped what she was doing and looked up at Arc. A protest (or perhaps a plea) for him not to tempt fate was on her lips, but she swallowed it down, instead opting for a more diplomatic response. "Do you think it's safe?"

And by safe, she didn't just mean that it wouldn't kill or maim him. She didn't want him getting lost in the Nether. Not now, not again.

Callie and Arc bounced ideas off each other, speculating as to the nature of the plague and whether or not its effects were permanent. Arc suggested they leave the planet and bring the infected woman along with them, see if putting some distance between them and the rift would help.

"Do you trust me?"

Rhi's brow furrowed. "That depends on what you're going to do," she replied, but then sighed and nodded her head. "Yes."

Calligenia Io Arcturus Dinn​

 

[Srina Talon]

| ELROOD |
| COURTYARD OF CAPITAL BUILDING |

Tag: Gerwald Lechner | Darth Empyrean
_________________________________________________________​

Interesting.

An imperious head drew up slowly from where she had once shielded her head from the effects of a rippling blast no one could see. The breaking was invisible. But, it could be felt sharp the wrongness of a metaphysical ice pick digging deep into the base of her skull. It was that steady thrum of indelicate pain that left her reaching for her husband through the ether as the presence of the Force seemed to wane.

<<My love.>>

Two words would break through the static of the broken Veil of Elrood to touch the mind of Darth Empyrean . It served a purpose. Firstly, to let him know that she was mostly untouched by the calamity that had befallen the planet when ships fell from the sky. It was not the first time she had seen the blaze of what happened when a capital ship became a dart and the planet a board. The fires from varying power sources being overloaded and damaged would burn this world for weeks to come.

Secondly, Srina reached for Empyrean to prove that she could. No breaking, no mystical hell, would stand between them. Of that she was certain.

The capital building was full of Sith and soldiers with a will that had been shaken by the sudden change. It was not entirely willingly that Empyrean allowed his wife to set foot in hostile territory but there were very few who could order about Srina Talon. Even he, most revered in her blackened heart, most precious alive or undead would find it frighteningly difficult to bend her iron will. Thusly—When she decided to grant abilities to the efforts of his people? It was not a request.

The svelte woman wore armor so dark that the endless black of space paled in comparison. The shock of such startlingly white hair against such bleak shades made her all the more prominent in the chaos. It was a state of being that she didn't seem to mind. When things started to fall apart around her and the people began to slip into a state of feral ignorance, Srina, remained an eye in the storm. Calm to the point of it being unnerving. Silver eyes fell to Gerwald Lechner like the gleaming blade of a guillotine when he once again saw fit to give her orders.

Their task was simple. Less bloody, than the rest. Kill the head of the governing body of Elrood.

"…Must we?", Srina drawled, slowly, while the fog and pain ebbed to a distant ache in her mind. He seemed intent on ascending to the topmost points of the capital building so that they could mount some sort of defense. Complete, their goal. The pale lady did not understand why such a thing was necessary. The Force was thin but it was not yet gone. The scent of unthinkable things burning and ash floating down from the sky was ominous. "I did not call for a retreat, wolf."

Rather than follow the much more robust lupine up the varying staircases she made an about-face and made her way back down. The thin cloak attached to her shoulders held a blood-red lining that swept along in her wake without thought. She was as obstinate as ever, this Echani, this Dread Queen who had been labeled as such because of training extensively, cruelly, with phobis devices. It had taught her how to bring fear. Taste it—Use it. This…This breaking of the veil…


It was a testament to how far the Sith Order had advanced.

From hiding in the shadows to bringing about their will in the eyes of those who would defy them. It was not a breaking, but, a restructuring. A time in which new rule could be asserted and there were none left to halt the future of progress. Why was it that so many seemed to think it a detriment? That so many feared slipping into the Nether—So much so that they accepted the loss of the Force on a whim?

Because speculation and fear uttered it so?

No.

Srina Talon made her way to the courtyard without an ounce of fear while what looked to be guerilla warfare erupted from all sides. The populace had lost all sense and turned on their new gods without any regard for each other. The massacre that had already taken place had left the ground-stained crimson. Littered with bodies of the dying and the dead. This was not the way to acquire a world that she had been taught within the Confederacy—But this was not the former Southern Systems.

They had favored diplomacy and democratic options. The Sith Order also seemly believed in negotiation. Simply…With a more aggressive tone that was impossible to ignore. Elrood had been given the option to bend or break and it appeared that the planet had chosen for its people in the latter. It was of no consequence. If fact—It very well may prove useful.

She exhaled slowly and drew on the dwindling life force of those who had already fallen. It was there. Sparks of electricity that existed in the final stages of passing. In lost spirits. In the blood that had yet to cool upon the earth. It was there that she found a tether. Strength, to resist the cleaving of the Force from her being. While the Nether sought to come between them Srina refused it and utilized the most arcane of things to keep both feet firmly rooted in real space.

Srina would not be pulled into the Nether like some hapless, flightless bird.

The blood that filled the courtyard, the capital building, and the surrounding area began to boil. It shimmered between states of coagulation before it began to slither toward her like liquid mercury. She called it from near and far to absorb the power left behind. She used death, fear, and anger to fuel such primal invocation, and soon enough a lake of red stillness pooled around booted feet. She could see the population bearing down on hastily created barricades. Faces. So many, many faces. A sea of them. An ocean, of madness.

They climbed over the top and poured into the space without thought. They were a seething hive, a swarm of flesh, and little else. When the rolling wave of humanoid beings closed the distance the blood beneath her feet moved without warning and sprung toward the attacking force. It formed spears that almost seemed to be made of crimson glass, crystal, that perforated skin and muscle alike. The concussive force as it made contact splintered bone and stemmed the tide while simultaneously causing other crystals to shatter so that the process might repeat. The crazed citizens of Elrood would find themselves impaled on spikes made of their own brothers and sisters. Wave after wave of crimson fluid rolled into the rioting nothingness and crystalline pikes would drive them back. Destroy, break, melt, and reform. Over and over. Blood, pooled.

More blood—More power. It was a loop that could continue endlessly as long as the source of her Sith Magic kept flowing freely. The Force was a twisted, complicated thing, and was ever a place from which to draw corrupted strength. They only needed to reach beyond and realize that they hadn't truly crossed over. The Nether had come to them; They didn't need to let it in.

Silver eyes grew dark and golden while her hand rose to direct a dark orchestra of death. There was an elegance to it that was would make anyone with a shred of decency reel in terror. But, for a Sith? It was a means to an end. She could feel an aura of something much more threatening than the broken veil. Something other that watched from a place she could not see. It was of no consequence. Let it look. Let it watch. Let it enjoy the show while the presence of the Sith Order on this world gave it some semblance of meaning. Srina would take, what she wanted.

Let nothing stand in her way.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Srina Talon

”Yes, we…” Gerwald turned to look at Srina, but she was already heading the opposite direction. “Dammit.”

The curse was uttered under his breath. He knew what would happen should the pale queen be killed on his watch. She was much stronger in the force than he was, but that did not mean it could not happen. Empyrean would hold the wolf responsible. The question would be why the wolf had not sacrificed his life to save Srina. It was something he did not wish to face.

Gerwald knew why they needed to take the high ground. He was not afraid of the numbers around them. It was a matter of strategy, of ensuring that when the inevitable happened, they had every advantage at their disposal.

The wolf huffed as he fell in behind Srina. She manipulated the environment in ways few knew she could. Gerwald had witnessed her creativity more times than he could recount. The lesson she had taught him the day she used his rain to make spikes of ice was one he would never forget. Even an enemy’s force attack could be manipulated and used against them. He was a brute, a beast, and fought as such, but Srina was a true force master. She saw what others often overlooked.

As the blood pooled around her Gerwald could feel it. The veil was thin, too thin. She was not simply killing those who would resist them, Srina was pulling death toward them. He had been in the Netherworld. Those of his own order had thought he would betray them for a chance to find Naedira. Gerwald had proved them wrong. His love for the woman had never caused the wolf to betray his duty. Even in the moments when he had to abandon his own wants and desires, Gerwald always fulfilled his duty.

It was what she would have wanted, what she would have demanded of him.

There were moments he wished to curse it, others when he had. Though nothing of her old self truly was alive in the land of the living, Gerwald often found himself feeling scolded by Naedira in his more selfish moments. She had always told him he could be more than what he was, and even now he lived by those words. His drive for more was because it was the only way he knew how to love her in death, and honor who she knew he could be.

“What you are doing is dangerous,” he said to the Echani. “It always comes when the veil is thin.”

He searched for Srina’s eyes as she conducted her symphony of death.

“It always comes.”

She would know what he meant. The Nocna Mora, the Devourer. Naedira had been bound to the ring to prolong the process, but in the end the thing had taken her. Gerwald had known it the last time they met. She was one of them, had grown into them in some kind of fashion. The wolf did not understand it all, he only knew the Naedira he loved was gone.

Yet, Srina had given him a reason to hope. She had made a promise of her own. If there was anyone who would know how to release the Knight Obsidian from her curse, it was the Dread Queen. Her power surpassed those who had made the creature, and the Queen would bend it to her will. Gerwald need only to look at the way in which she commanded the Nether to know his faith was not misplaced.

Still, he knew she had never encountered it.

“It will feed on our enemies and allies alike.”

His stoic lips turned upward into a sadistic grin. He knew what they needed to do, and he knew if it came, she would not be far behind. This was their chance. This was the moment Gerwald had spent years waiting for. The wolf would kill the beast. Naedira would be free. Srina would have kept her word.

“We should let it.”​

 

[Srina Talon]

| ELROOD |
| COURTYARD OF CAPITAL BUILDING |

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Gerwald Lechner
_________________________________________________________​

"…And here…I thought it was perfectly safe."

The words were delivered in the same deadpan drawl as her initial reply. Part of her suspected that the wolf thought she'd lived beneath a rock during their days beneath the banner of Isley Verd. Did he not know that she read every field report? That she followed every incident, every mission that crossed through the Ministry? Her golden gaze was pinned on the surging crowd of filth that mindlessly hurled themselves against the crystalized blood pikes with abandon.

Srina knew what would come forward in the chaos, if only because she well knew the man at her side. She knew how the soul had been bound to the ring he wore. She knew how to undo it.

"Did you never find it strange, wolf, that the Devourer only appears to you? For—You?"

Throughout the last few years, every documented time one of those creatures appeared it always seemed that Gerwald was present. The ring was a beacon, certainly, but there was something more to the process that no one had thought to understand. The Veil between real space and the Nether was thin in many places throughout the galaxy. But, the horned Nocna Mora did not make an appearance.

Rather than accept an open portal elsewhere they merely waited for an entrance that led specifically to this wayward lupine. Once that piece of information was fully grasped it wouldn't take long for him to realize that he had become the bait. If he wished for the safe return of Knight Darcrath he would need to be willing to accept all that arrived in her wake. He offered an interesting thought about the nature of the beasts that she believed would cross through the broken Veil of their own accord...But she wasn't sure if it was what she wanted. Yet.

Her shoulders rolled while she wove the strength of the negative energy in the area thoroughly with her own. Twining it in such a way that the spikes were almost an extension of herself. She didn't need to look to know where they were going. To know that their locust-like enemies were swarming from the east more than the west. She could feel their tediously blind ferocity just as much as she could feel the vibrations of their encroaching footsteps in pools of blood.

The tether she held with Darth Empyrean strengthened.

He would anchor her almost as vitally as the lake of blood that his people had left behind.

Should she let the Devourer run rampant through these throngs of corrupted civilians? Were they in their right might many of them would have cowered before the sight of a woman in onyx armor commanding blood as if it were malleable. From liquid to solid and back again. It should have been impossible given the science of it—But the Force allowed for all things.

Even when muted.

"Perhaps…Perhaps I will make it mine."

Her words were coupled with a deathly hollow that would wrap around his heart like a vice. Her voice was a dangerous thing. No more than her sword, but it held a certain quality that bestowed a terrifying revelation. She looked to be frail. Delicate. Made of softer things as Echani preferred an aristocratic approach rather than barbaric…But there was no hiding the horror of her truth.

There was nothing delicate—Nothing soft, about her. If she aimed to take one of these creatures as her own…She would. "Knight Darcrath will not be an issue. Nor, will her beast."

"The breaking is temporary. The pieces want to be together."

It wanted to be whole. It just didn't know how. Couldn't. Not without help.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Srina Talon

There was a brief temptation to roll his eyes at the Echani’s deadpan retort. Of course she knew. As an Exarch in the Confederacy she would have known what the Lord Commander was up to, and even the events prior to his promotion. Her responsibility was to know. Since he was her wolf, not just a Knight, she made her business to know. Gerwald was not so naive to think he took any action without her knowledge. It had been why she chastised him upon their last meeting. The question of where he had been was more than wanting information. The words had a bite and disappointment to them.

Her question did not make him pause. His response was simple.

“I am aware.”

Had he always known. That was a question for another time, and one that did not matter at this moment. All that was pertinent was the fact Gerwald always attracted the beast. He was also astute enough to know it was not the wolf himself the Devourer wanted.

It wanted her.

“It comes for the ring. I know. It senses what remains of her. Prazutis bound the beast to consume until every part of her was gone then ensured something of her would remain just out of reach.”

The mere act of uttering the words angered the wolf. His hand jutted toward one of the insurgents as the unfortunate rebel seemed to dissolve by Gerwald’s will alone. His skill with shatterpoint was rivaled by very few, especially now. The pup had become something Srina could have never bargained for when she nursed his broken body back to health. The Mountain certainly could have never imagined the power Gerwald would achieve.

He watched as she killed with mere will. Spikes and pikes sprouted and descended with each successive kill. The blood which had pooled at her feet had reached Gerwald’s as well. The longer she continued her onslaught the nearer they drew to the appearance of the beast. Srina was drawing it out, or perhaps she was not. Gerwald stopped trying to assume what the Dread Queen wanted a long time ago. He knew her well enough to know that she would inform him if she saw fit.

"Perhaps…Perhaps I will make it mine."

The statement did not catch Gerwald by surprise. She often collected things. Lost and broken things were most sought after. This Nocna Mora and the broken Knight that had once been Naedira would be appealing just in that fact alone. The power and loyalty of having the horned demon under her command was another thing entirely. Whatever danger Srina was now, she would only be that much more with the dark devourer under her command.

“The way to do it, or the ability to achieve it, has always been lost to me. I could not even break the ring on Naalol when she begged me to, and not because I refused to.”

The pain of his choice was evident in his voice. It had been omitted from the report, but if the Blood Queen was listening she would know he chose his loyalty to the Knights and the Confederacy above his own wants and desires. Perhaps that was why Srina granted him this one boon. Perhaps it was for her own amusement. Regardless, Gerwald knew she would see it done regardless of her motive.

Whatever light that remained vanished in an instant. Heat consumed the place they stood, and yet Gerwald felt the familiar cold of death that always came with it. Dry and humid at once, and then he could see it.

Fire.

Smoke.

The Devourer.

Its wings spread as its gaze focused on the wolf, beyond him to the ring which rested on his chest. The armor Gerwald wore would not be enough to keep the beast from taking it if it wished. When last the Nether broke through it had just been Naedira. There had not been enough room for the Nocna Mora to pass through the portals. Srina had brought the edge of the Nether to them, this time, and this time it would take advantage.

A mighty roar echoed through the streets. Those who remained alive trembled with fear as they fled the wicked creature. Only two held their ground. Gerwald spoke softly, only loud enough for Srina to hear.

“It is here.”​

 

[Calligenia Io]

Location: Tattoo Parlor, Elrood City - Elrood
Objective: Survive - Uncover the Affliction
Tags: Ishani Dinn Arcturus Dinn

"Part of me wants to test out the tat'" he mumbled, looking toward Rhiannon, "If it's bleeding into reality, I wonder if it's not working both ways..?"

“If reality is bleeding into the Nether?” Calligenia questioned. “Is that possible?” She added. It went without saying that she was beginning to feel out of her element. This was beginning to seem like a crisis better handled by Nethermancers than a medical HRD.

Were these two Nethermancers?

Calligenia let the question simmer in her mind as she continued to work over her patient while listening to Arcturus’s musings. Mutations. Was this what this was? If so, that might imply that the condition was semi-permanent and likely wouldn’t disappear if an afflicted individual was removed from the area of a Nether incursion. In all likelihood, curing a mutation would demand intensive Force healing or perhaps even genetic therapy to fix whatever had gone awry in the person’s DNA.

However, there was another angle, which while it might be beyond Calligenia’s expertise, was something worth exploring due to the simple efficacy of preventive medicine. Surely, closing the rift that had formed between the Nether and realspace would remove whatever was causing the zombified conditions in the first place, even if the effects continued to linger after the incursion was removed.

“I have three brothers waiting at a ship parked a few kilometers outside the city, but it isn’t my vessel per se. It was too dangerous for them to wait at the spaceport.” She explained.

“I think we have two approaches to consider.” The Nuetralizer continued. “One, we can attempt to seal the rift, if such a thing is possible and two…” Calligenia paused. “We can try and save as many people in the city as we can carry, by stunning them and taking them somewhere off-world.”

All the while, a small, but growing pack of afflicted roamed just outside the parlor, their features twitching as the Nether sickness slowly seized control of their sanity. It went without saying that a decision would have to be made soon.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armorweave Medical Dress
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Droid
    
    • Sorenn-Syrush Medical Remote Mark I
  • Utility
    
    • Galen-series Medisensor
    • Series II Military Aid Kit
• Healing Blaster Type A
• Dashade Sonic Disruptor
• Bacta Grenade (4)
  
  • Loaded with Bacta-H

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

Arcturus hummed as he weighed all of the options before them, his gaze drifting back through the door and toward the Nether Storm itself. Standing here speculating wasn't going to do anybody any favours, so with a sigh he turned to Rhiannon and gently cupped her cheek.​

​

"Take Leviathan, and help Calli get as many of them away from here as you can. Maybe bring a specimen to Khayyam, see what he makes of all of this. I'm going to see where this Rift spits me out." He knew that she wasn't going to like that, and pressed his lips to her forehead before giving her a gentle smile of encouragement.​

​

"Do not wait here for me, Rhi. That's an order." Arcturus had yet to really pull the 'Master' card, but it felt important here. He needed her to stay safe. "I'll meet you at the Heart three days from now if you don't see me sooner." Naboo seemed like a safe point to rendezvous these days... And he did really enjoy the mountain view.​

​

"I love you" he whispered, kissing her softly. With any luck everything would run smoothly, but in the event that some hiccup happened he needed her to know that.​

​

Then he turned to Calli.​

​

"Save who you can. My ship should be able to facilitate the holding of a decent amount too. Rhiannon will give you my comm-frequency, once I'm back in Realspace feel free to send for me." They could figure more out then, should the plague persist.​

​

With all of that said, Arcturus rubbed the underside of his Band of Shadows and then drew upon it and the Force to render himself invisible. Out into the crowded streets he ventured, heading straight for the origin of the storm.​

​

Ishani Dinn Calligenia Io ​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Though Rhi listened to Callie's suggestions, she could detect a shift in Arc. Sure enough, he turned to her, his mind made up.

She didn't want him to go, of course, but she knew she couldn't stop him. Frustration and fear had given way to faith and trust as of late, but she would always feel helpless in situations like this. All she could do was harden herself against the pain and seize the reins of what she could control.

"I'll be there to greet you," she said, her expression softening under his gentle kisses. "I love you."

With a few more parting words to the android, Arc was gone, disappearing into the storm. Rhi turned to Callie. "All right, then. Let's start rounding up the infected. We can split them between our ships..."

Calligenia Io Arcturus Dinn​

 

[Saeth Zambrano]

Objective ?? - Feed the Beast​

With: Pravus Zambrano ​

​

"Without your ears you would be blessed in other ways, nephew mine. You are loved by the Gods, see how they delight in your machinations..." It was a rare day indeed that Saeth Zambrano bowed to any mortal man, or woman, but she inclined her head toward him all the same. "With you at the helm, the possibilities are limitless."​

​

Her gaze drifted over the roused creature on the table, then to the cover of the grimoire Sebastian held in his grasp. Faces warped in grim visages, leather taut yet naturally wrinkled in places. As she peered closer, she discovered the pages to be vellum not parchment and her smile only grew. "You really do think of everything, don't you Sebastian?" Not one to waste anything, this Zambrano. The others could certainly learn from him in this regard even if in no other, though she'd argue he had plenty to teach if they'd only give him the time.​

​

"Your own creation, I presume?"​

​

Her hand reached for the tome, though her fingertips strayed from the leathered surface. She knew better than to sully the good work of another, tempting as it was to feel the workmanship for herself. It was almost as if she was anticipating what came next, the pages lighting up; so too did his runed arms. Jolting down toward the zombified creature on the table, it seemed to alight the beast in other ways. Soon hands and arms not his own erupted free from his chest, and tore at the bindings holding him in place.​

​

Saeth raised one hand in response, though she did not shy back or seem too alarmed by its actions. Whatever she was going to do was halted, for Sebastian regained its attention and helped to lull it back to a more agreeable state. With another jingle of bangles she lowered her hand once more, and this time brought it down so that a fingertip could settle upon the brow of the beast as it was soothed. "Blessed little thing," she hummed, anointing the newest member of her nephew's ménage in the sight of the Gods.​

​

"You're a natural" she mused, as Sebastian dispatched the creature with a wagging finger and accompanying reminder not to overfill itself. "Has this one a name?" she asked, watching as it leapt down from the table and headed in the direction Darron had fled toward.​

​

"But of course, nephew," she said, to the offer of a catch up, "Why don't we see what else this storm has pulled forth?" Turning back toward the doorway, she took a step forward and then glanced back to make sure he was coming.​

​

The family... Where to even begin? "No doubt you heard tale of the destruction of our mighty homeworld?" she began, a soft frown desecrating her expression into something just shy of a scowl.​

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Once he had made it to the building, after leaving a good amount of bodies behind, his sword and mace covered in a sticky mass of blood, bones and brain, he entered into the administrative center just to find that things were not different here than outside. It would be a surprise, but not expected. The whole world has gone to bits and pieces which were tearing each other down.

In a gesture which seemed almost ridiculous in its purpose, he moved to a map of the building, checking where what is in the huge office complex. He seemed like a confused citizen searching for the office he had to go to for renewing some ID. In fact, he was checking on staircases and elevators. How many were there where were they located, could he close all but one to make this insanely huge building a bit more of a fortress where to reside until the madness was over.

It was more a bored occupation than the actual requirement for a holdout that made him do it. He could slaughter the mindless creatures all day, but that would not help him to get off this world. The thought made him halt. It would actually. The more the Nether was here and opened to a rift, the closer he was to be picked up by his ships.

How could he lure as many people as possible onto the capital plaza.
​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective 1: Survive

Malum lazily brought his eyes up, as he felt the sound of vibrations break out through the entire building. Now one might ask why he did not look down, an earthquake at this point would not be too far out of the realm of possibility, but indeed, even without the Force, he could feel where vibrations were originating from.

Perhaps if this was the emotional Malum, the one that was whole, the one that needed the Force or lest acted like more husk than man, his eyes would have widened, his lips go dry, and perhaps a gasp emanate from his mouth as if the events from the last few minutes had not already been so bizarre and odd. Yet indeed, all that came over the dulled red eyes, was a flicker of recognition.

So Adeline was here, and she was alive.

Good, that would increase their odds of survival to a large degree.

His eyes were then brought back down leisurely to see the hand of Captain Demora having pulled him in, with his lips whispering seriously into his ear.

"For tonight, kid, don't mention who you're loyal to. Got it? Loyalties won't matter if we die to some scissors and kitchen knives."

Interesting, he supposed this man was an Eternalist then, some vague memory brought to the fore of Malum's mind recognised him as serving the First Legion, and thus likely serving Darth Empyrean. He supposed that making it evident that he served the leader of the Tsis'Kaar may do some damage to the already fractured system, even if it was life or death.

Oh what a bore politics was, but if he should need to play his part, he would play it well.

At least this Captain Demora was strong, and seemed to be a veteran of numerous battles too, he could not complain about serving him in the upcoming battle.

"As you wish, Captain Demora." Malum said simply, offering nothing but a nod, as their hands were broken off from one another. Even placing himself under his command, seemed that the Captain wished for him to serve an independent role, that served him fine enough.

Odd though that they were not reacting to the dragon above creature above them, but perhaps they had not noticed, they were rather odd. Hyperfocused on their tasks, yet still speaking colloquially to each other, one of those Malum could understand, he too was hyperfocused on his task, having the Force returned to him, but the other, he could not, oh well, he could not choose his allies.

Or perhaps he could.

Malum's ears flickered to attention as the voice of Alisteri began broadcasting through the radio.

It seemed he too was safe, for now.

That was good.

It would likely be problematic if his Mistresses' graduated apprentice died.

He hoped that he could make it here, having another Sith ally among them could do much to the defense, gazing around, it seemed that was the consensus among the soldiery as well.

His eyes then turned towards Captain Demora, as he frowned addressing him.

"You got experience with crowds, Sir?"

Hmm, what an odd question. Perhaps in reference to the dust cloud rising he had seen earlier?

"I led the assault on the Warhawk at Saijo," Malum said, analysing his mind for any other instances he had been fighting within a crowd, nothing else came to mind, "It seems however, that my connection to the Force has been severed, thus, it seems I shall only have my lightsaber for the battle," He said unemotionally and without a bit of concern.

His allies deserved to know the information at hand.

Regardless, he would be fighting as needed.

He needed the Force to return to him.

Cato Demora Adeline Noctua Darth Strosius Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Cato Demora]

​

"This won't be nearly as clean.", Cato said with a frown. The distant cry of the crowd only encouraged his men and the stragglers to hurry their pace.​

​

Cato pulled a small radio device from his belt and turned it on, sending an unheard chill down Malum's spine. He racked the slide on a pistol, rested it back in his the kydex holster, and turned back to face him. Only this time, he stopped and peered around him at the flying bat creature. He frowned at it after a second, seeing it not striking the windows or being a nuisance.​

​

"That yours, Acolyte?", Cato said with a motion to it, unaware it was Adeline Noctua .​

​

"Crowd's gonna be here any moment, and anything flying is likely to get hit with some rocks. I'd ground it.", referring to it like it was Malum's pet.​

​

He moved further away to look over a small computer with another of his soldiers, speaking in a low tone as satellite images of the complex flashed over the screen. In unison, it seemed they nodded, then Cato stood and spoke to the crowd:​

​

"Chances are you're going to see some things you didn't wish to see today. If you don't have the stomach, I need you in the corner huddled. Women and children in the back, they'll be last if they get in.", he said, only for the crowd to offer a murmur in panic. He whistled sharply and reiterated;​

​

"I need those willing to fight up front. I need anything that can function as a weapon. Now!"​

​

The people hesitated until he yelled the timeframe, rushing into action as the last of the doors were rammed shut. Outside, the Crowd was only a few blocks away, the first of their stragglers beginning to peel through the outer gates. The complex began to echo their cries, until the hundreds gathered sounded like many thousand, and even the voices in the room began to die out.​

​

"It's now or never. Let's give 'em hell!", someone cried out through a helmet.​

​

Cato slammed his helmet on and let his blaster fall in its sling along his chest. He shot to a kneeling position on a mounted shatter gun and began to open fire. Armed citizens began to roll as the bodies began to fill the courtyard only to be stepped over by their maddened compatriots. It was only a minute of firing before the first of them entered the lower levels of the building, and the distant sounds of another gate being opened.​

​

It seemed the battle for the complex had begun.​

​

Darth Malum of House Marr // Warmaster Nyâsh​

​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Survive
Location: Elrood, Three blocks from Capital Plaza
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Cato Demora / Darth Malum of House Marr / Lirka Ka / Iasha Rha / Warmaster Nyâsh / Adeline Noctua

Thankfully the response to his question was swift, but admittedly not as informative as he'd like, and even included a destination. One that he would be more than happy to make his way towards once his legs finally answered his commands to move. It took longer than he'd like to admit to get back to his feet but Alisteri was nothing if not persistent. "Force affliction eh?" Whatever that meant for the local populace he didn't believe that it meant an easy trip to the administrative building.

The Sith Knight managed to regain his composure enough to get to the bottom floor of the building that he had been resting in when whatever it was that happened had happened. The sight that greeted him though was disturbing to say the least. Sith soldiers and Elrood defenders tangled together in a macabre display of death and blood, with many civilian bodies just as involved in the brutal battle as those of the soldiers. It was clearly a close-quarters brawl with many makeshift weapons lying next to their dead wielders or buried in the bodies next to them.

"What the feth is going on?!" He made his way past the massacre and out onto the streets of the capital city, only to be immediately spotted by a civilian. Said civilian turned to him with a maddened look in their gaze and a bloody vibroblade in their hands. They charged at him without hesitation, nearly frothing at the mouth, and attempted to carve into his shoulder with a wild strike.

Alisteri didn't hesitate to decapitate the crazed civilian with one swift draw and ignition of his lightsaber. The body thudded against the street below as he glanced around for any other would-be assailants. "Rooftops it is then."

 

[Srina Talon]

| ELROOD |
| COURTYARD OF CAPITAL BUILDING |

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Gerwald Lechner
_________________________________________________________​

It was, in essence, slaughter.

The fault lay not specifically with the nether-poisoned souls that rallied against them like locusts but they would be required to suffer the consequences. She could not immobilize and contain so many enemies while the Force was being siphoned by the break. Srina could only adapt and utilize what was left behind. A life, was a life. Blood for blood. Fuel—For corrupt designs.

They would die so that she would live. So that, her little stars might make landfall.

Amongst the craven screams of the dying and the damned, she held what could have been considered civilized conversation with Gerwald Lechner . The wolf stood tall in a sea of red. Collected—Not overwhelmed by the scent of copper and perfumed, rotting, meat. Burnished golden orbs fell to his person while crystalized pikes perforated the populace in rolling waves. The people did not need to be led to the Capital. To the plaza. The Nether, called. “Tell me…Do you ever tire of being wrong?”

“The Nocna Mora don’t give a damn about you, the ring, or Darcrath. They were made to consume indiscriminately and have no use for something so banal as human sentiment.”

Her voice was matter-of-fact, though, it was neither harsh nor cruel. Srina had a habit of presenting facts as she knew them to be without sparing the feelings of those around her. It was a character flaw, perhaps, written around her need for brutal honesty. To never have a forked tongue. To never, ever waste time with merciful lies. It didn’t help anyone. “Your human might be tied to that ring…But there are other ways to escape. Rifts, bridges, or portals that can be used to crossover. It is Darcrath that seeks you out...”

“…Not the Devourers.”

Srina spent her time delaying the throngs of bloodthirsty primitives while staring into the abyss. She did not fear what lay in the dark. The wife of Darth Empyrean had little to fear from any being in the galaxy save the Dark Lord himself. Slowly but surely, the scent of sulfur and an essence of flame began to assault her senses. The abyss, it seemed, had finally chosen to stare back. The hulking creature that approached from nothingness was stories tall, horned, and seemingly incensed by its sudden expulsion from the nether-realm.

The Dread Queen toyed dangerously with the edges of a fraying reality while maintaining control. Some were only powerful in their own domain. Srina, chose to create her field of engagement. This was not her home. This was not her land and not even close to a source of strength. But, it would obey her all the same. A stern chuckle escaped pale primrose lips when the wolf stated the obvious—Announcing the presence of behemoths so foul. As if she did not know. “I have eyes, wolf.”

There was smoke in the air. Pieces of debris—From a ship going nuclear and who knew what else would find itself deflected in noisy pings. An invisible barrier kept the sky from crushing both herself and the werewolf at her side. There were times when it fluctuated. It wasn’t as strong as it might have been had the damnable ether not been creeping around their ankles. Drawing ever closer so that it muted the Force. Her use of life lost in the courtyard and surrounding area made a horrific example of waste not, want not. Anything with a circulatory system alive or dead was subject to her whims. She would use that control, a massive advantage, as long as she could maintain it.

She saw cloven hooves first.

A puff of smoke from a furious exhale—Coupled by the appearance of a feminine form that was backlit in varying hues of red. Srina should have run once it stepped into the sea of red that offered her strength, fuel, beyond what should have been possible. It had rightly never mattered to Srina what others said she could or could not do. The Echani would find a way. “It’s nice of you to finally join us…”, she spoke, loudly, so that the beast and the woman might both hear her over the rumble of movement.

Over the screams and cries of the battle in other parts of the courtyard beginning in earnest.

Not everyone would be as brazen as she. As immoral and sin struck—To use the dying for power in lieu of the full might of the Force.

<< You dare summon me?” >>​

The voice that echoed from the Devourer vibrated through the ground. There was so much pressure behind it that it almost hurt her ears while it brought a sharp, stinging pain, to the bridge of her nose. Srina held her ground and metallic golden eyes remained pinned on the winged demon as if it were something quite small. An insect. A crawling, mewling, sulphuric thing that had gravely misunderstood its place in this world. “Kneel.”

The Nocna Mora roared with anger at the insult. Only the most powerful could summon a Devourer—And this witch had merely opened the gate. She had not summoned him, nor, the young mistress that walked at his side. Yet, somehow, it felt compelled to obey. Anger surged at the audacity and it raised one massive, clawed hand, to turn a milk-sallow humanoid body into bloody ribbons. Her hand raised to the side and it sneered. Foolish, pitiful—

The touch of this female, with a delicate hand, so small, caused the attack to halt while foot-long claws began to curl around her. Pain surged through the creature that was primarily made of molten material. It had a hide tough as rock, and yet, with a brush against her skin, it began to seize and writhe while it howled to the moonless sky for some form of release. Anything, to make sudden agony stop. The Nocna did not know pain. It had never felt, pain. It had only watched it, witnessed it in memories, but it had never come across a Sith beyond the marker that could shape it. Tame it. Force it into submission.

“I will remake you atom by atom should you continue resist. Kneel.”

With the grounding of the Devourer, the Knight that Gerwald had been so taken with stared blankly forward. She could not move forward, nor back to the Nether, while the beast she was bound to was in such peril. Try as it might…Srina would not release it. Instead, she drew on the pooling blood that surrounded her and threw it forward in dozens of crystalline pikes that pressed mercilessly through the soft spots and joints of the monster. With the waning Force on this side of the nether…The Nocna would be weaker. Its control over Naedira Darcrath would be incomplete.

That was all Srina required to keep her word to the wolf.

One moment of weakness.