Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The Light of Ashla

Champion and Avatar of Ashla
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Objective: Try to stop the ritual and prevent Zach to reach Kyrel and Ingrid.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood | Closed
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open
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[ Valkyrjan ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina still defends herself and sometimes she attacks back.
  • The Avatar tries to convince Zach to turn away from the Avatars and tries to save his soul.
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"A Valkyrja can only be from a dead soul. You have to die to be one of us. This is a second life, a second chance…"

She didn't understand what he was getting at, since most souls become one with the Force sooner or later. This was the order of the Netherworld, and there were few exceptions. Not to mention the fact that not all of the Valkyrja had to fight, there were many other tasks and duties. But she already knew and understood that the man simply did not want to accept these, the GenDai only saw or heard what he thought, nothing else had any significance or importance. Eina found this very sad.

As they fought each other and the martyrs approached, Eina couldn't help but ignore what was happening on the ship. Although they were no longer on board, but on the surface of the planet, she could still feel what was going on up there. She felt the fight between her mother and Kyrel, as it caused great disturbance in the Force. She felt the barrier around the ship. Sometimes it was a curse that she was a Force Entity and she was very attuned to the Force; due to this, she sensed many such things, too. Which she didn't want to know about.

She continued to defend herself as Zachariel attacked her; Eina counterattacked a few times, but these could be easily blocked and defended. She didn't expect to be able to steer him to a neutral or light side, but the former Valkyrja would have been satisfied if she could save his soul. After all, no one deserved the fate that the Avatars rewarded their "followers". In the middle of the fight, Eina shook her head.

"You have been to the place that is their domain. I took you there. Did you see any spirits there? Did you see anything that can be a paradise there? The paradise that the Heathen Priests speak of does not exist. I'm so sorry, but it is a lie!" she told him.

Meanwhile, the Martyrs also arrived, the mere sight of these creatures caused pain for the Avatar. It was terrible to see half- and three-quarters devoured souls rolled into one person. Eina had always believed that no one deserved such a terrible fate. She shook her head again and sighed tiredly before answering.

"You still don't understand, this is your fate too. You will be part of one of them. I'm trying to save your soul! This is not rebirth, this is nothing more than torture, cruelty." she finally said.

Meanwhile, the girl attacked and attacked the man's previously severed arm with the flaming blade, and with the frostbite blade she tried to cut the side of Zach's thigh and the bend of the knee. Meanwhile, she spoke as well:

"Do you want to be one of those who are devoured, digested for years or centuries, and then spit out what remains? They are conscious, they don't pass out, they always know what is happening to them, they feel the pain. It's not too late to protect yourself from them." she also said.

In the meantime, the martyrs did not attack them, even though they surrounded the duo and thus blocked the way that led to the rift.

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Objective: Try to save the hostages.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: Rifle, Sword, Magnetic Thermal Detonators, Thermite Explosives, Heavy Blaster Pistol, Carbine
Allies: EE | Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas | Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera | Garrus Garon Garrus Garon | Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus | Anashja Tal Anashja Tal | Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin | Rath Nihro Rath Nihro |
Enemies: Maw
Tag: Anashja Tal Anashja Tal | Rath Nihro Rath Nihro

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Tovald shook his head, that was the only thing he did not bring to the fight, but he will undoubtedly bring it the next time. Lessons shall be learned and implemented for the next mission. But he also has to decide on what to do with his unfortunate find, he needs to return it to the poor soul’s tribe, so he can be appropriately interred with the customs and dignity he deserves. But there are so many here that he couldn't take them all with him.

Tovald had not looked inside the crate for a long while, many of these crates held things that their owners would never use or wear, and that’s a tragedy. Families were torn asunder by maniacs. War is hell and he knew damned well what he signed up for. He wasn't ignorant, far from it.

He didn't blame Ana for her reactions, nor did he think any less of her for shedding tears, emotion should be let out, holding them in was an awful thing and that never made anyone feel very good. He tried and it made him feel very sick and angry, the type of anger that seeps into everything he does. Tovald wasn't a nice person when being in that state, nor was he helpful.

For Ana, he was there for her and wanted to help in any way he can, which means he can get her to safety with his ship. Which is a priority now as the line between him and his scouts was broken and patchy in places. A surefire way to know that getting out was a good idea.

<"I have a ship, we can go to that and get away before more casualties occur."> He says, making sure everyone was up for the dash to safety.
 
Objective: 1 - Defend the base.
Location: Allied Outpost.
Allies: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor
Enemies: Y'sanne Stradd Y'sanne Stradd - Nal'Khem Szat Nal'Khem Szat

Torruns jaw set as she saw the horde part, a metaphorical red carpet straight to their leader. She began to hate this one even more on principal. Damn sith and there theatrics, always acting grandiose, even as they are surrounded by death and destruction. Her hold on her lightsaber tightened, before she let out a breath, calming herself. It would not do well at all for her to be distracted. Torrun refocused on masking her force signature, sticking to the shadows. Let the loud one confront the Mawite directly and have all the glory.

And so Torrun snuck along the tree lines, the large branches and trunks hiding her lithe form.

It did not matter to the Knight Warden if Jedi fell, only that she could take the head of the one responsible for sieging the outpost. But, admittedly, she was getting fairly impatient, waiting for the two to finally come to blows. No doubt they were doing their flexing and measuring that most Jedi and Sith partook in. Torrun almost scoffed as she settled, ready at a moment's notice to take any opportunity given to her to attack, waiting for the correct moment.
 
E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S
Moderator
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to stop and kill Kyrel.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren | Closed
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open
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[ Incense and Iron ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid try to reshape and transform Kyrel due the energies what the man absorbed from her.
  • She tries to stab Kyrel.
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Ingrid wasn't worried about him breaking her skull, what isn't there can't be broken. The red-haired woman only had a physical body due to her shapeshifting abilities, otherwise she would have been semi-immaterial. In fact, she had no bones anymore. In this form, of course, yes, so she will feel the pain if the man ends up breaking her cheekbone or skull, but in reality it will be more like the man destroying the smoke, tearing a gap in it, rather than actually breaking a bone. Perhaps this was precisely the reason why the woman did not grab the man's arm and defend herself.

And because she had another plan.

As the man's fingers gripped the woman's skin more and more, only black smoke escaped from it, since the woman still had no blood. It was just a "frame", Ingrid's former, human form. She kept it, because this was what she once was, she still clung to this appearance, her humanity. She laughed as he began to feast on her more and more. Did Ingrid leave this, this time or the Night Spirit did? That was a great question. In any case, she let him feed on her, because that too had a purpose. Just as the energy was absorbed by the man, this energy now began to absorb the man from the inside, transforming and reshaping him, to Ingrid's.

The more she tried to devour and absorb, the faster the process went. It was exactly the same way that the Night Spirit had started to transform the red-haired woman's body to suit herself back then. The female entity couldn't finish because Ingrid had defeated her, but it seemed like the perfect counterattack against a hungry person, an endlessly hungry person. Like a virus that eats up the host's body from the inside, infects the cells, transforms them into the virus, and breaking out of it, divides and reproduces.

However, in this attack, since the best defence is the attack, the woman did something else as well. This happened in the real world though. She knew, she felt, that the man was undead, that is, an attack against the heart or something like that could not harm him. At least she thought so. However, perhaps a damage that kills a Gen'Dai would be effective here as well. That is, a brain injury.

As the mental war continued, Ingrid reached for one of her daggers, out of sight of Kyrel as they were still looking into each other's eyes. Carefully, stealthily, she raised her hand with the dagger, then with a sudden and swift movement, she tried to thrust the alchemised and poisoned dagger into Kyrel's temples, to try to end the duel as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile in the reality…

… the shield is still held…

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Objective: Survive
Location: Somewhere on the Devourer
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Vorm Vorm Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas Garrus Garon Garrus Garon Rath Nihro Rath Nihro

Equipment: none of this is on her person, it is stowed amongst other stolen belongings.
damaged Beskar'gam, lightsabers, healing supplies, EF-M401e Rampage, Healing Blaster type A

Voidstone shackles

Anashja looked at the Ubese as he rummaged sorrowfully through the posessions of his deceased Ubese. She knew enough about different cultures to understand what he was thinking. "Take what you can carry, I will carry some to in repect of your efforts here, but neither of us honor the fallen by dwelling and being killed with arms full of memories." she spoke with a soft voice, her counselling role made her at ease with these things and she believed the dead returned to the oversoul. She smiled under her Buy'ce and grabbed as many buckles as she could before they left. "I saw a stash of stolen detonators over there, I will let you do the honors, let them be lost rather than possessed by the Maw."

She would begin to walk in the direction Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a had indicated towards his awaiting ship. She would be relieved to get out of this hellish place, the darkness swirled about, but replacing her damaged breastplate allowed her enjoy the focus her bonded litr gryttr crystal gave her.

The corridors were quieter now, the massive attack had depleted and distracted the defenders, and whatever monsters lurked in the darkness seemed to have shooed away whatever remained. "What do you think did this?" she asked as she found as lone stormtrooper entrapped in some foul silken wrap. "Keep you guard up, there is something here." she looked down the darkest of the corridors they past, and shuddered as her echolocation sensed movement she could not see.

"We should pick up the pace I believe" Anashja hoped it wouldn't be far.

 


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Location: Devourer’s Bridge
Allies: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Vorm Vorm Kybo Ren Kybo Ren Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Objective: Devour Panatha


Kyrel would feel trapped by the red woman. This thing known as the “Night Spirit” would greedily try to keep sucking in all of his energy. With the empowerment made by that of his Maker he would try to absorb the energies, and in a way create a field of energy surrounding himself. “No… You red witch… You cannot fight against the darkness.” His mind felt like it was swarmed into a lull.

Kyrel would slowly start to break through her Night Spirit defenses, and soon a bright flash of black and crimson creating an ominous vision had blinded the spirit. He stared the red woman defiantly. “Unlike the Sith I am the bane of you all… What you take to defeat them will take more to kill me.” He said with a scoff, and soon the suffocation oceans started to disappear. He felt the Night Spirit cower before him and he felt the prison slowly start to form cracks in the mental prison.

The Wrath would slowly start to gain his sense of self. When the mental prison started to fade, and when his consciousness started to awaken, albeit his head felt foggy. He could barely keep his eyes open, and through his vision he could see a blade within her hand. She felt the stinging sensation of the blade pierce his flesh. With a growl his eyes finally regained their fire and he stared at her defiantly. “I am the harbinger of death…. You will submit!” He said as he barely moved his arm enough to take his crimson blade and run it through her chest. He looked at her defiantly his mouth showing filled with dripping blood. He could feel the cracks within the shield

You won’t last… You will watch.” He said as with his other hand he attempted to freeze her in place. His power rising to the point where he felt the climax soon coming. Soon he would feed, and have a feast he shall. As he stared deep into her eyes probing her for hints
 
16TH POST
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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY


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THE_BLOODHOUND
TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS

WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
GRANDMASTER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE
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BELLIGERENTS
(BOTM/DH/SH
Vs. EE/EMPIRE/AC)

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Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha Nyaeli Nyaeli Kybo Ren Kybo Ren Aemulor the Hutt
Y'sanne Stradd Y'sanne Stradd Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Ronar Ronar Runt Runt
Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

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Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara Myri Dara Jas Katis Jas Katis Lyssa Io Lyssa Io
Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan Zhea Nox Zhea Nox


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SHRIVEN NO MORE: FEAR THE SMOKE, FEAR THE SAVAGES - PART 16
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MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)


'I'm fine, I don't think I'm going to die...it just hurts like hell and is bleeding profusely.'
The reply had been slow in the uptake, and to the extent Barran almost ordered Vorco to speak up before the Twi'Lek finally broke the eerie, misty moments of silence after the fight. However, the answer itself would reveal why, giving the Warlord all the reason to worry for the safety of his soon-to-be-anointed Magnar, investing him even farther in the survival of one the other Scar Hounds were quickly beginning to consider a hero among Marauders.

'Are you injured, warlord? I won't make it to paradise, again…'
The Warlord shook his head, holding a hand up for momentary silence as his gaze returned to the Mercenary Captain, holding a deathly stare with one of his own as Jas finally barked,'You better hope that there's an interruption next time, Barran. Because if there isn't, I'll feed you your spine…', switching off his lightsabre and holding the Woad's gaze once more for a short while. Slipping into the fog behind him as the Lost Brigade's denizens had just moments before, though with a limp, the Sith-Pureblood's statement of intent seemed to bear far more weight than any he'd issued before, like the very shade of night had made their first truly blood-chilling promise of promises.

~=Aye, we'll see about that when you show up again.... Take care for now, Jas.=~

'All's well for now... Just beat t'kark is all. Got some cuts an' burns, but enough o' that. Please, take a knee.'

Wiping the undead blood from the blade on the sleeve of his coat, Thomas then rested the blade across his upper-trapezius muscles, letting it's Beskar form rest across the collar of the bloodied jacket as he knelt on one knee opposite to continue,'And as for your waylaid sense of belonging, none of that need be true if you accept the rank, title an' status I offer you now.', unclenching his jaw and softening his gaze in the spirit of endearment. For the sake of a subordinate who belonged among the Tri-Lunar clique, and every as much as she did among all the other Scar Hound clans within the tribe, and perhaps even more so in some instances, especially with her efforts on Tython considered. And after seeing the way she moved through the air, the way she hit the ground running to complete the third part of the teamwork attack, it only served to strengthen Barran's high-praise opinions to near-ironclad extents.

'Two warriors have risen from the clique, with both ascending to receive the rank of Magnar, right here on Panatha; and I would have it so that you become my third, and on the very same planetary surface at that.... What say you of this, Spindly?'
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SHRIVEN NO MORE: FIVE FALCHIONS, FIVE FORCES OF NATURE - PART 3
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MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)


'You ready, Dreamer?'
'Ready as I'll ever be, Rook. My part has been played, so we play it your way now.'

Standing at one end of two long columns of local vine-bushes, the Bloodhound's first companions both stood with their songsteel Falchions drawn, ready for anything that dared defy their advance, ready to take their fight to the Taskmaster's subordinates once and for all. It was the mother of all challenges for Barran's overachieving Darkhans, and in the moment Rook warned,'You don't need me to tell you what happens when their leader steps up in their stead, but worry not.... For Spice clouds the mind of the intruder as much as the user, though that incurs risks on it's own.', Dreamer knew they had no other choice, unholy though it seemed to take a step back on their own progress in such a way. There were no doubts it could make them stronger, faster and more difficult for foes to predict and adjust to, but the conditioned aversions to relapsing were reasons enough to reconsider, but nothing in life was ever easy - and certainly not for the likes of the Tri-Lunar Clique.

'Just like Nirauan, mm? Give it here.... Not a word of this to the others, no exceptions.'

And for all they had been trying to teach Ghoul in their own recoveries from substance abuse, their young friend and fellow Darkhan would be more than disappointed if he ever found out, but this was a worthy one-off, and their options and advantages were in supremely-short supply by then. And yet, much to the irritation of the Falchion-wielding duo, their time to mull over form-strategies and the likes would be cut short, and by none other than the denizens of the other belligerent faction in the Secret War.

'Mawsworn sorts though we may be, your kind will find no welcome here.... Leave.'

Surprisingly the first to abandon his reservations in defiance, Dreamer's face would be the first to turn and reveal the inhaler he was thumb-spamming at the time, inhaling for every two sprays of the encased Spice-capsule within as the six warriors behind them stopped in their tracks. Watching on as the Chiss tossed the inhaler aside and replied,'Enough - with the coy-act.... W-we know - what you've done.... And by order - o-of the Bloodhound, I sentence - your tribe.... To death.', in a hoarse, throat-rattling addict's tone, the opposing Mawites would only find their self-confidence assailed even more intensely by the sight of his Arkanian comrade, huffing on the exact same substance and tossing it aside in what seemed to be a semi-conscious standing stupor at the time.

'The feth is wrong with you freaks?'

Calmly replying,'Oh, don't be so - hasty.... Look - to my feet.', Rook would display his adeptitude under-influence first, adapting sturdy, poised form to adopt a workable fighting stance in the haze of his intoxication, with Dreamer following suit almost an instant later in what seemed to be a domino-effect. The heels of the Darkhans' boots were dug deep into the muddy ground beneath, with knees bent to set them both in animalistic stances to pounce at a moment's notice, but Rook had one last thing to say in his state of fighting bliss. Looking to all six with a grinning sneer on his face, the Arkanian raised his Sonsgsteel for all to see as he concluded,'Should've walked - the other way.... Should've - ran while you still had.... The chance.', with eyes briefly rolling upwards and snapping back to coherence as quickly as the lapse in consciousness occurred.

Though fortunately for Rook, none could tell, and even more fortunately for Rook, most were assuming his eye-rolling to be set until the warriors defending the Taskmaster's frontlines finally sprung into action, with all six lunging with loud roars in their collective attempt to rush both Darkhans together. And like a shot, the Arkanian's Falchion swung with a wind-dragging, high-tonal ring towards the pistol-wielding hand of the nearest attacker, slicing through the metal composite and the entire hand just beyond the knuckles; and all whilst the Chiss sliced through the same opponent's thigh-bone, cleaving off the left leg like carving through a cake, and through the jaw, teeth and cheekbone of the man next to him - all in one fluid, upward slashing motion.

'Yeeeeeees, Dreamer! MORE!!!! MORE, DAMN YOU!!!!'

With a sickening crunch, the Arkanian pulled the cybernetic arm off of his second opponent and caved his skull in with it, unleashing a functional (though no-less murderous) grunt of exertion as the wet cracks ran along the top and beyond the lower part of his assailant's crown, turning the stomachs of all who were coherent enough to process the sound in their minds. Using the shock to his advantage, the Chiss laughed as he stabbed through the eye of his next victim and sent the blade singing out the back of the skull, jumping into a dropkick that sent his dead assailant careening into the warrior behind him. The resulting slaughter would be nothing short of vicious, and of those who still had beating hearts by that point of the fight, quick but gratuitous work would be made of them as their screams rang out into the foggy night around them.

'SONS OF EXEGOL, HEAR ME NOW!!!! FROM THIS NIGHT HENCEFORTH - MAR'ZAMBUL DECLARES IT'S FEUD WITH THE TASKMASTER!!!!'

Throwing his head back once more, the Arkanian's voice threw out the wildest, most shrill of howling warcries as his challenge to the denizens of Tu'teggacha, followed suit soon later by the hoarse, tired howl of the Chiss in a challenge of his own to their enemies. Both giving their mutual sense of self over to the rage they had been bottling up for so long since Tython, striking from the shadows with calm, leisurely hearts until the right moment, and only until it mattered most to do so.

'THE BLOODHOUND SENDS HIS REGARDS!!!!'
 
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E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S
Moderator
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to stop and kill Kyrel.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren | Closed
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open
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[ Incense and Iron ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid injured seriously and lose her consciousness.
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More than that, Ingrid didn't want to let go of the Night Spirit, as that would mean the entity's power would completely take control of her and push her into darkness. She wasn't worried about the return, Ingrid was only on the edge of darkness for a single moment, a few minutes and only once, that too because of Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter 's anger. The reason she didn't completely let go of the other power was mostly because she would have helped Kyrel for sure. The Night Spirit's power was pure darkness and she was always looking for an opportunity to break out.

She couldn't give it to her. So even though she was now stronger, she was also weaker. The woman had to keep up the barrier around the ship, fight both Kyrel and the Night Spirit. Mainly because Kyrel was able to break the power of the Night Spirit, that power was also strained against Ingrid's shields as the Night Spirit also defied her own captor. That's when she stabbed the man with the knife...

"Never!" she replied.

However, when Kyrel finally decided to use the lightsaber as well, Ingrid had to change her tactics as she had to defend herself against the attack as well. The red blade ignited, but for now the blade stopped after a few centimetres and didn't extend any further. Ingrid was still able to keep it away from her with Tutaminis. However, such a multi-directional attack is taxing and tiring even for such a powerful Force User.

They stood like that for roughly ten to fifteen long seconds, amidst mental and physical attacks. Sweat appeared on Ingrid's forehead and dark grey smoke began to come out of her nose as she began to "bleed" from the exertion. There was one more thing she had to do. She reached out into the Force, towards Zach and Eina.

~ RUN! ~ she shouted telepathically to Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood and Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , she wanted to save them. At least them.

However, in the four-way concentration, her strength also ran out, the Tutaminis no longer held back the crimson red lightsaber blade, which pierced Ingrid in the chest and left at her back. The waves of the ocean of pain were now engulfing her and crashing over her head…

… the Empress of the Eternal Empire fell to the ground…

… the shield, the barrier around the ship has collapsed…

… nothing protected the planet from Kyrel Ren's hunger already.

Last post.​
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Spindly
Warden of Hrjóstrugt IV, Magnar and Marauder of the Scar Hounds Tribe
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Objective: Kill everyone and survive
Location: Markwood Marshes, Spirewatch Forest, Canthar Province, Panatha
Equipment: 2x Geysa Hybrid Pistol | Assault Rifle | Armour and weapon (weapon is lightsaber resistant) || OPBC-01m
Writing With: Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | Jas Katis Jas Katis
Allies: Erion Justeene Erion Justeene | Ronar Ronar | Runt Runt | Open
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[ Last Survivors ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Spindly does not feel herself worthy to become Magnar.
Spindly #1
Jas #1
Tommy #1
Tommy #2
Spindly #2
Jas #2
Tommy #3
Spindly #3
Jas #3
Tommy #4
Spindly #4
Tommy #5
Spindly #5
Jas #4
Tommy #6

For most people, it would probably have been joy and happiness to survive a fight, a battle. However, this was not the case for the Twi'lek girl. She felt annoyed and disappointed that she had survived a battle; she survived again. It meant that she still hadn't done enough in this world to deserve the Dark Three's gift and love. She still hadn't killed enough infidels, she still hadn't sent enough souls to the three Avatars. When will it succeed? She had asked all this of herself and her gods countless times, but she had not received any answer.

She knew that there was a lot of variation in the date of who died when. Some people get it after a few weeks, others weeks or months. But there are those who have years. Or just more than a decade, like the previous warlord, Mongrel, or the Matriarch. She had never fought by the pair's side, she had only heard legends from those who had and were still alive, about how terrifying Mercy and Mongrel were on the battlefield together.

She looked at the armoured man for a moment, who left them after one last threat, so she looked at the warlord. As is usually the case with Marauders, the girl did not have any first aid equipment. If they die, no one mourns them, since their lives mattered to no one, if they are worthy, Paradise awaits them; and to them it was glory. If they survive on the battlefield, the shamans deal with them in their own brutal way, which even fewer survive. But within the Maw, within the Scar Hounds Tribe, it was the usual life cycle.

After his words, she looked at him in surprise and confusion. After a few moments the Twi'lek girl shook her head and spoke.

"Thank you for thinking so, warlord, but I am unworthy and inexperienced for this position. I took such a heavy injury again and my team was slaughtered one by one by members of the Lost Brigade... I lost an entire team again." she told him.

Or would this have been the will of the Dark Three? If so, it was revealed a quite interestingly way, even though the girl was only a slave-solider, not a priestess to be able to accurately interpret the words of the gods or their will…

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Location: Devourer's Bridge
Allies: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Vorm Vorm Kybo Ren Kybo Ren Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Objective: Devour Panatha

Kyrel looked into the eyes of the red woman with sadistic glee as he ran his blade through her. Using the Night Spirit against her with his overwhelming Hunger. The mental prison that he was confided to with the attempt of having her devour him. His groggy eyes had turned serious when he felt more like himself again. The Wrath would find himself looming over the Eternal Empress in a triumphant manner. The Sith chants echoing into loud screams that sounded like music to the Ren's own ears. He felt his Hunger finally start to breach the shield and he found himself laughing manically as he watched the waves of howling, consuming darkness start to stretch outwards.

"Yes!!! Can't you see Empress... Even you are no match for the Age of Hunger!" He declared with his sinister gaze boring deep into her mind. His arms raised up in joyous celebration with saber in hand. The Sith Chants seemed to deafen all and any noise, for Kyrel reaching into his own ravenous waves of darkness he could feel the Force become like an echo. No sound, no light just nothing but a consuming void that took all in it's path. While blood trickled down his chin in an ugly smirk showing his teeth he watched as the darkness started to stretch outwards. He could feel the mantra in his head echo louder, as his Master's grand design had finally been complete. "Consume, devour, destroy." Is what he could hear echo repeatedly in his mind.

Looking at the Empress he proceeded to grab her by the neck. Slowly dragging her along the Sith rune covered floor towards the ritual center. With the waves of ravenous hunger broken free from the shield, he sought to control it. His grip held tightly on her, giving her a stern look to the outside of his Hunger soon starting to spread. "You will watch this!" He said tightening his hold on her, before diverting his attention back to the ritual center. He took hold of the dark spear embedded into the ritual center, and felt the urge to feed overwhelm him. This compelling urge to feed the spear, and thus nourish himself with the Living Force itself only grew increasingly desperate.

Soon the spear would let out a howl that mixed with the chorus of Sith chants from the rune covered floor and walls. What would follow would be a discharge of crimson energy that would spread through the ritual points on the floor. The ravenous hunger started to move quickly towards the world below. Maw, Jedi, Eternal Imperial, it didn't matter for all would face the consuming darkness. The ships it crossed started to strip the metal apart causing it to age, corrode and rust before bursting in explosions. The waves quickly making a descent to the world below. Nothing would stop the Wrath from finishing the ritual, and consuming all to fill the void that tortured the Wrath of the Maw from within.
 
N P C - S T O R Y T E L L E R
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TAGS:
DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie , Thomas Barran Thomas Barran , Onrai Onrai , Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan , Nyaeli Nyaeli , Ronar Ronar , Torrun Vell Torrun Vell , Asudai Rapux Asudai Rapux , Kriegan Tavlar Kriegan Tavlar , Erion Justeene Erion Justeene , Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud , Mig Gred Mig Gred , Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall , Shani Shani , Niki Priddy Niki Priddy , The Battalion The Battalion , Trinity Harris Trinity Harris , Bella Bella , Mykel Fellheart Mykel Fellheart , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr , Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood , Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha , Garrus Garon Garrus Garon , Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert , Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus , Rath Nihro Rath Nihro , Jas Katis Jas Katis , Silas Westgard Silas Westgard , Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el , Kybo Ren Kybo Ren , Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn , Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an , Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a , Anashja Tal Anashja Tal , Vorm Vorm , Zhea Nox Zhea Nox , Aemulor the Hutt, Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor , Imperator Sarilia Ellwin Imperator Sarilia Ellwin , Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Lyssa Io Lyssa Io , Rebirth Rebirth , Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas , Aien Mueller, Akûz the Ravager Akûz the Ravager , Lichix Taroq Lichix Taroq , Nal'Khem Szat Nal'Khem Szat , The Grunt The Grunt , Veyli Xoxtin Veyli Xoxtin , Naidim Icayon Naidim Icayon , Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim , Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera , Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr , Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert , Y'sanne Stradd Y'sanne Stradd , Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco


Panatha and around it


The barrier around the ship collapsed in a single moment, so now the ritual could spread undisturbed in the direction of the planet. On the way, it even reached some smaller and larger ships, which also had disastrous consequences. The Dark Side of the ritual surged through the Force; all this was invisible to the naked eye or sensors. Only Force Sensitives or Force Users felt any of this.

However, those who felt it…

At the same time; they could feel the cold down their spines, or throughout their bodies, as the coldest night on Hoth, Ilum, or Kalidan. And the cold was followed by emptiness, endless emptiness. A void.

However, everyone else felt what happened next.

In addition, they could already feel hunger, endless, inexhaustible hunger, before the ritual itself reached that place. A hunger as strong as never before; their companion next to them became one of the most delicious and appetising foods they had ever seen.

And the planetary Dark Side Nexus amplified the effect. As soon as the ritual and Kyrel's power reached the planet, all the rifts suddenly began to expand at an incredible speed, more and more Martyrs arrived on the planet, the effect was as if the Netherworld wanted to swallow the planet. The rifts, as soon as they reached each other, merged and began to grow exponentially. Parts of it had already left the planet and its atmosphere and reached space and tried to spread into the endless space.

This data immediately reached Trinity Harris Trinity Harris 's ship because the base on the planet was able to detect these anomalies and warned of what was to come. And they warned her that the entire planet and the surrounding area might fall into the Netherworld, but the consequences would certainly be unforeseeable if they couldn't close the rifts.

Kyrel's and the ritual's powers reached the planet in the part that was exactly the opposite side compared to the fighting, yet there were still a lot of living beings, plants, animals, intelligent, civilised life forms and the Force were also found here. The previously invisible wave now became transparent and everyone could see it, it began to race across the planet, leaving no life behind. Kyrel's power consumed everything and everyone, including the Force. An emptiness, a dead world remained in the wake of the ritual. It was approaching the central part of the planet.

The rifts remained and constantly spreaded, and the Nexus also survived in the depths of the planet, but its influence weakened, the rifts widened. The amount of death was palpable for everyone. And that was the moment when Y'sanne did what the Dark Three told her to do, she tried to protect the Mawites because the Avatars didn't want to lose most of the force. At least that's how the woman interpreted the sounds and visions she heard. Meanwhile, Eina did the same, but she did with everyone, every life mattered to her...*

Meanwhile, the result and wave of Kyrel's ritual was approaching dangerously fast…

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*A little spoiler from Eina and Y'sanne next posts. The post was written by mutual agreement.

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Last edited:

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Objective: Fight
Equipment: Weapons
Tags: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Closed
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"And many will grasp onto that chance, because the other option is an unknown death."

Zachariel snorted, shaking his head at her once more. Eina saw it as everyone joining the Force, becoming one in the cosmos. But she didn't understand that many didn't think the same way, that many didn't believe the same thing. Oh, Jedi and Sith believed it, they knew it to be true. But so many cultures had their own versions of the after life. Mandalorians had the Manda, the Brotherhood had Paradise in the Avatars embrace, and many other cultures and species had differing beliefs. Some were true, others less so, but no less valid in detracting from the overview that all went to the Force in the end.

As for the rest, Zachariel wasn't aware of the full culture of the Valkyrja's. He'd only ever seen them with Eina, on the battle field. Often they'd be helping others, but it was still where one would be expected to fight. Even then, he still held true to his beliefs. Others joined the Valkyrja's to survive, after one fashion or another. There too, they were different. She believed in the Force and that one should help all. He believed in Paradise and that one earned their place.

So they had to fight, for their differing beliefs, because who and what they believed in was so anathema to one another. And so it was, in the Force and in reality, they battled. Zachariel himself felt the battle between Inrgrid and Kyrel, not as well as Eina, but he still sensed the momentous occasion. He grinned as he felt it, knowing well what his fellow Mawite leader would do. Good, let him consume this world and send them all into the abyss. It didn't occur to Zachariel that he was on the world, nor would he have cared. He was confident in his own survival, no matter the odds.

"Aye, I've been there. I've seen their domain within the Nether, and I don't care! The living cannot enter and the dead shall not leave."

Zachariel laughed at her once more. He wouldn't share the fate of these wretches, not now, not ever. Yes, the reality she showed here, the souls stitched together so was torture, but it was torture for the souls that failed. For those that denied the truth of the Avatars. He shook his head as she continued, ignoring her words.
"Have you not learned, Little Eina. That fate won't be mine, I will rule as I always have. The strong rule and the weak suffer, serving their betters forever!"

Laughing further as they fought, Zachariel didn't care as the Martyrs surrounded them. Let them cut off Eina's escape, she would fall this day. Even as Ingrid cried out to them, even as he felt the hold over this world shatter and Kyrel's hunger loom, Zachariel laughed. Reaching out as that wave of death approached, Zachariel's might latched onto the minds of the Martyrs. With an effort of will, Zachariel forced them forward, towards Eina. For now they listened and approached, beginning to strike out at her.

Zachariel himself held back, letting them pass him by. With how difficult they were to control, he had to focus on them fighting Eina and moving past him. Conveniently, this left the path slowly open to the portal for him, even as they continued on Eina. With a grunted chuckle, Zachariel forced out.
"But it's too late for you to protect yourself."

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Overseer for Imperial Scientific Development


Dr. Trinity Harris DXenbo DAnthro
Overseer for the Comittee for Scientific Development


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Location: Aboard the Shield of Sacrifice over Panatha
Objective: Heal the planet and or save its people
Tags: DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie Thomas Barran Thomas Barran Onrai Onrai Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan Nyaeli Nyaeli Ronar Ronar Torrun Vell Torrun Vell Asudai Rapux Asudai Rapux Kriegan Tavlar Kriegan Tavlar Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud Mig Gred Mig Gred Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Shani Shani Niki Priddy Niki Priddy Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Bella Bella Mykel Fellheart Mykel Fellheart The Battalion The Battalion Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood Garrus Garon Garrus Garon Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus Rath Nihro Rath Nihro Jas Katis Jas Katis Silas Westgard Silas Westgard Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el Kybo Ren Kybo Ren Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a Vorm Vorm Zhea Nox Zhea Nox Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Imperator Sarilia Ellwin Imperator Sarilia Ellwin Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze Rebirth Rebirth Aien Mueller Akûz the Ravager Akûz the Ravager Lichix Taroq Lichix Taroq Nal'Khem Szat Nal'Khem Szat Veyli Xoxtin Veyli Xoxtin Naidim Icayon Naidim Icayon Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco


Weapon: HH38 Geysa Hybrid Pistol
Vibrokukri
Riding: Phantom
Accompanied by: Plushee Companion Droid
Wearing:
Hersir Imperial Uniform
Guardema Bio-suit
OPBC-01e
Ship: Carrack Class Science Vessel ENS Mihaly - docked aboard Shield of Sacrifice
  • 1 military support and 2 storage mission pods

ENS Shield of Sacrifice

2 × Adrian Class Star Healer
ENS Beauty of Truth
ENS Guiding Hand


4 x Eternal Class Star Destroyers
ENS Scorched Suns
ENS Valkyrie
ENS Barbaric Hand
ENS Imperial Justice


6 x Ashkelon Class Escort Frigates

Several squadrons of
Bjarga Class Medical Corvettes and
Læknar-class Medical dropships arriving independently.

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The meeting was going as expected, every one of the Overseers had concerns and numbers to throw at her. There were elevated voices, but at least as military leaders there was still discipline despite the situation. Everything from small additional hyperspace costs to a break down of their international relations was discussed, Panatha had been an important world in this sector of space, so at the very least there was expected to be an economic down turn, with the risk of outright rebellion of nearby worlds.

"Overseer Harris, is everything OK at your end." one of Overseers stated with concern "You've gone white as a sheet?"

"It's... I don't know actually, I think environmental must be out, we are under fire continously, please excuse me for a moment." It was icy cold as she paused her conference, she pulled her thick cloak around her as she felt the heat pulled out of her. She was about to call in the ship's captain when the admiral himself burst in. "Overseer, forgive my intrusion, something is happening on the planet. You need to see it."

Something made Trinity sick to her stomach as she pulled up the information on her implant and then shook her head. There was no mistaking the data, time had run out. She thanked the Admiral and turned back to her conference as he left.

"Fellow Overseers, I have data from the surface, it is still in a fairly raw form so I apologise if it is not in a format that you can fully understand. We are losing the planet, the rifts are expanding exponentially, these are our projections." she showed the estimated timeline for the planet and potentially the sector, they would need to trust her on some of the specifics as there wasn't time to translate it fully for the less scientifically minded.

"I am calling an immediate vote as chair of this emergency session. The question is simple, do we launch our weapon, to be clear, this will result in the complete destruction of the Imperial world of Panatha."

A couple of the Overseers expressed concern and one a desire to wait for more information, but when the votes had settled there was one abstain registered and the vote was otherwise unanimous to proceed. "Thank you Overseers, please let history remember our decision favourably." The emergency session ended and all the faces disappeared.

Her next call was to the base on the world. It was a short message and she spent longer giving her formal authorisation codes than actually speaking but the message was clear.

"By the authority of the STRATCOM, I, Overseer Trinity Harris authorise the launch of the Valdarán"

All that remained to was issue general evacuation orders to all Imperial and allied forced, the areas stricken by rifts would need to be immediately evacuated if anyone survived. Trinity gave other commanders as much information as she could to allow them to know their own evacuation deadlines. So many lives would now be lost and many more were in the hands of the force. She had and the put her head in her hands, it felt like it should be an end, but the fallout for that order was just beginning.
 
In Umbris Potestas Est
And with that, Onrai's work was done.

Her ships left orbit from the world, the last of the vessels on their way to Kinoss and Ool having exited the system. The aged warships joined them. On the surface of the world, the many Onrai had taken to the homeworld of her empire through the rift she had opened scrambled at the sight of the wave crossing the planet. The rift itself swiftly opened to devour them, forcibly taking them across the galaxy as Onrai observed it. With the last Panathan she could save in her custody, her avatar upon the world dissipated, the faded remnants of its power added to Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren 's feast as the rift collapsed upon itself.

There was much to do with these immigrants.
 

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Location: Panatha
Objective: Eliminate the Sith
Tag: Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el / Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn

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"I seem fine... we did both go through a battle after all," he said with a pained grin as he went over to his friend and nodded to him respectfully. The fight alone had made them both aching and tired, it probably wasn't wise to continue with their objective when they weren't at their best. Even if they didn't, the news of them taking down a sith would still sound well to the order who sent them here to rid the planet of such darkness.

Silas followed Jasper to the bow and looked over his shoulder to examine the weapon they recovered
"That looks like a fine bow, but it would be wise if that sith has attached anything to it. You never know what sith have up their sleeve" he warned, looking around the area just in case they were being watched by something else "Agreed Jasper, we should offer to team up on more assignments more often. In all honestly, we didn't put a foot wrong."

If they did, they'd probably be that sith right now

"A long day for sure, one that was too tense for my liking. I'd suggest we call for the shuttle, it wouldn't be wise to combat the bandit camp in our condition. For all I know, I probably have something broken under all this adrenaline" the teen suggested to his companion, who was sure to agree with his statement. Calling it in on the comms, it didn't take long for a shuttle to pick them up from a clearing and fire them back up into the atmosphere.

After a few minutes of silent thought, he looked to Jasper and nodded to the bow he used
"You'll have to give me a lesson on that when we get back" he chuckled, jokingly motioning the way of shooting the weapon. Although, as they came into wider space he felt a horrid feeling in the force. He couldn't explain it, but when he looked back to the planet through the window of the hull the planet has changed.

"Jasper... Panantha has lost its color" he said with wide eyes, nothing was left for them there.

 
17TH POST
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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY


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THE_BLOODHOUND
TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS

WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
GRANDMASTER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE
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BELLIGERENTS
(BOTM/DH/SH
Vs. EE/EMPIRE/AC)

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Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha Nyaeli Nyaeli Kybo Ren Kybo Ren Aemulor the Hutt
Y'sanne Stradd Y'sanne Stradd Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Ronar Ronar Runt Runt
Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

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Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara Myri Dara Jas Katis Jas Katis Lyssa Io Lyssa Io
Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an
Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan Zhea Nox Zhea Nox


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SHRIVEN NO MORE: FEAR THE SMOKE, FEAR THE SAVAGES - PART 17
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MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)


'Thank you for thinking so, warlord, but I am unworthy and inexperienced for this position. I took such a heavy injury again and my team was slaughtered one by one by members of the Lost Brigade... I lost an entire team again.'
Ardana's slave-like behaviours were beginning to anger Thomas, touching on nerves of which she had no way of knowing any such circumstances that gave rise to them, and in no way of knowing how much it affected the way the Bloodhound approached life as part of the tribe; ever-changing in the evolutions that formed every clan within, the views on slavery and reindoctrination had changed since his outright hateful stance on the matter, for those who had killed his comrades in cold blood deserved to work deep within the deepest mines to pay their penance, but those unfortunate enough to find their hands bound by Marauders by other means were proven far easier to radicalise.

Conceptual by then though it was, the Tri-Lunar Clique were proven effective enough in the holier, skaldic majesty of celestial vengeance on the Galaxy around them, and in their self-belief and belief in the brothers and sisters of the tribe, their wild-hearted martyrdom (or perhaps also their will to defy the odds in search of victory) had proven every part as effective as the last-stand thralldom of their legendary predecessors. But in all the Bloodhound had to say in condemnation for the language that inhibited Spindly's growth as a warrior and as a leader in her own right, the feeling of empathy and endearment crept up to stem the tide, and stayed the hand that poised itself to grab at the throat of the annoyance before the mention of lost comrades was uttered in conclusion to the Twi'Lek's first reaction.
'You cannot blame yourself of this-NO! You must not.... Not even Brother Rook or Brother Dreamer could handle their first encounter with me, an' the Lost Brigade have been in the Nether during and after my time there, growing much more powerful since in comparison. They're made of matter much darker than mine now, Spindly. You cannot blame yourself for the difficulties your teams face in every fight, such is the way of a true warrior.... Especially for one who fights as artfully as you do every time.'
Looking into the eyes of his subordinate with sincerity for the first time, the cold, piercing Barran-blue of his irises expressed an eerie warmth, expressing silent, near-bedazzled amazement for all she had been able to achieve without the relevant training; a natural in almost every combative sense, and in her raw talent, Barran had seen in Vorco what the Mongrel had seen in his auburn haired successor in the beginning. God-like potential for weaponization, perhaps even more so as a Jedi-killer in the making, and in the ever-growing span of Mar'Zambul's reaching influence, perhaps even a would-be Warlord in her own right. The promotion would surely handle this matter, as much like any other role within the tribe, the path of Magnardom was every part as much a sink-or-swim endeavour as it was for the others, and Vorco was effectively swimming already.
'Spindly - take this golden signet-ring an' bow your head.... For the merit of your dedication to the tribe, I hereby announce the bestowal of rank and title upon you tonight. Regardless of other titles and equivalencies, that which I give unto you shall be held with pride above all others.'
As the one-eyed Woad closed his eyes, he threw his head back and inhaled loudly through his nostrils in silent appreciation for the wonders Panatha had yielded in her last death-throes, love for the threads of prophecy that wove such wondrous, saga-worthy paths in life, and appreciation for the sheer majesty of it all - exhaling with near-narcotic ecstasy as he opened his eyes to the full moon finally drawing out into the open skies above.

~=Rebirth.... You need not reward me this much now. I understand.=~
~=You have your champion in reverence now.... Unless there is more you wish to reveal?=~


~=You.=~
~=Will.=~
~=
See.=~

With breath quickening, almost hyperventilating for the intensity of the reaction to such an ethereal, otherworldly surprise, the Bloodhound settled himself soon after what Barran himself would later describe as his first truly religious experience in any of his lives by then; and by the way things were looking to Thomas by then, and despite the mountains he still had yet to climb, there was more yet for Mother Rebirth to give. This would likely show in the way the Warlord's gaze crossed with that of the Magnarra once more, dewy-eyed in his joy as he spared a moment to whisper,'Rebirth speaks.... There is more yet in store for us. More the Third Avatar wishes for us to see.... We'll talk about this on our way back to Mar'Zambul.', winking with confidence as he straightened his posture to continue the knighting ritual.
Then, with the flat of the Warlord's sword, the Romphaia tapped both of the Magnarra's shoulders and the top of her head in ceremonious earnest, setting the ritual underway again as Thomas continued,'I dub thee with the title and rank of,"Magnarra", to command entire brigades of Scar Hound warriors where I cannot, and to govern the latest additions to our domains.... Now rise, an' stand with me as a leader in your own right!', sheathing his blade almost an instant later in anticipation of bearing the weight of a wounded Twi'Lek to safety. With the blood-loss considered, the Woad knew there was no way Spindly would be able to stay on her feet for long, but the Bloodhound didn't mind carrying the Magnarra to safety, Thomas was both strong enough and willing enough to do whatever was necessary to ensure Ardana's survival.
'We can afford to avoid our own healers for this, an' besides, you've come too far to deal with tortures such as those.... Lets go.'
With forearm nestled across the underside Spindly's scapular region, the Bloodhound's left arm then lifted Ardana from the backs of her knees as the right held her aloft from just above the central smalls of her back, walking back towards the landing-paddocks at the outpost as he bore the light, lithe weight of the wounded Twi'Lek in his arms. Barran was sure that nothing of a spiritual or otherworldly nature remained in the area, sensing nought but the distant sounds of war and stormy thunder at the time, though in his tunnel-focus towards the threats of a spiritual nature, no such thoughts had been spared for threats of the tangible, living variety. But just as the Lost Brigade had been watching, the deathless Imperials had been observing from the moment the Necromancer threw in his second wave of undead warriors, viewing the entire encounter and scanning the faces of their adversaries through the holographic UAV-monitors nearby.

And in the moment the attacks were sounded off in gurgling, hoarse, shrieking fashion, the one who had brought them so far south had ordered the others to run before the walking dead caught their scent, and though they were downwind at the time, it was obvious their coordinator was taking no chances on the matter. A smart choice, though unsurprising with their commanding officer considered, and when their paths eventually crossed in the fog, the deathless Imperial general was standing on his own, set into the poise of his stance with naked songsteel bared in plain sight. The visage of the warrior's stance alone was enough to cause a trickling nosebleed, though fortunately for the Woad, no such personal acquaintances or associations had ever been made between himself and the individual standing before him, and so the recognition of the deathless Imperial himself came at no real cost to the resurrected counterpart.

Thus saving the Bloodhound from compounding an irritating headache, free from the prospect of encumbering an already-haemorrhaging brain with the weighted addition of another debilitating, nose-gushing migraine making matters worse - as they often did with the one-eyed Warlord in times like these.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.'
Walking towards the flamed-haired, sneering Tuath, there was an entire array of emotions running amok on his face, seemingly finding it difficult to accept the truth of what his eyes were seeing, showing the one-eyed Woad exactly what was dumbfounding the chieftain of their greatest (and most bitter-) rivals in the Galaxy. Barran could hear the heaviness of Gowrie's breathing as he made to walk past him, but the former has surmised exactly where the mind of the latter was dwelling at the time, and all it took was a simple gaze into wild greying-green irises of the deathless Goidel to know that the revelation alone would keep him from killing the Warlord on the spot. And yet, when Barran turned to drawl,'See ye soon, Gowrie-', the tip of the Free-State issue cavalry-sabre's blade was kissing at the skin of his throat, revealing a fury that very few ever lived to recount to others.

'You an' I will clash someday, Barran.... An' when that day comes, I'll be a greater swordsman than yer faither ever could be.'

Both Thomas and Aron would glare at each other for a few moments longer, though the Kellas eventually sheathed his blade with a disgruntled growl of dissatisfaction, making his first and only glance in Spindly's direction and placing two unopened Bacta patches into the Bloodhound's coat pocket before turning northward again; and though neither the Woad nor the Twi'Lek knew this at the time, the Tuath had made a statement of intent to fight the Scar Hounds at their best, though most-specifically, the Warlord's successor who led them. After all, similar gestures had been expressed towards the Mongrel almost fourteen years before that night, in the heart of a blizzard as they sat and talked in a muddy trench together, enjoying each other's company with whiskey and debated philosophies as the battle of Csilla's eleventh hour raged all around them.

Perhaps the flame-haired Tuath would tell them about it someday.

Stranger things have happened in this Galaxy after all.

SHRIVEN NO MORE: FIVE FALCHIONS, FIVE FORCES OF NATURE - PART 4
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MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)


'REVEAL YOURSELVES, SCUM!!!! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, COME OUT AND FIGHT!!!!'

A host of corpses lay strewn across the ground around them, but the Chiss and his Arkanian friend were still standing, still showing effortless strength in the face of the overhanging threat of the Exegolians lurking in every shadow, but there was more going on beneath the surface of the Darkhans' rescue plan, namely the rescue-attempt of which they were all setting out to endeavour together. Occasional traded comm-chatter would leak through into the ears of Rook and Dreamer alike though, letting their coordinators know what developments they were encountering along the way, and the others were close by then, giving the First Darkhans their chance to plan their own escape as a result of the progress made by Caz, Nail, Ghoul and all the resurrected ones who had been lucky enough to find their outpost.

'WHAT DO YOU WANT, MARAUDERS?!?! YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY HERE WITH SPECIFIC REASONS IN MIND!!!! JUST HAVE OUT WITH IT AND STOP WITH THE ACT!!!! IT IS NEITHER BRAVE NOR CLEVER, SO STATE YOUR TERMS RIGHT HERE AND NOW!!!!'

Expecting boisterous, brazen demands in response to their own, the following cackles of derisive mirth would certainly have come as a surprise, though there was no way the Taskmaster's token diversionary contingent could have possibly known of their exploits on Nirauan, with no way of knowing the duo's methods of turning difficult odds in their favour as they had against Erskine Barran in the Battle of the Myrmidon Quarter. Their very reputations were formed on their fearless ability to march up and knock on the gates of their adversaries in any way they saw fit, along with their valour in holding their own as little more than part of the Mongrel's old strategic reserve, further standing to reason that anything else would have been considered out of the ordinary for the Bloodhound's closest friends, proving once more that the Chiss and the Arkanian would have accepted nothing less under the circumstances.

'OUR TERMS?!?! WHAT SORT OF CRETINOUS LOW-LEVEL RAIDERS ARE YOU MISTAKING US FOR?!?! GET OUT HERE AND FACE US, COWARDS!!!!'

Then without warning, two brave Shi'iDo warriors stepped out from the fog, baring their infamous slicer-blade appendages in clear view of the Marauders, opening their human-like arms in taunting, silent challenges to Rook and Dreamer. Tu'teggacha's chosen hard-hitters had stepped forth as the only available champions to oppose those who had been handpicked by the Ebruchi's latest rival personally, though much to the favour of the Taskmaster's underlings, the Fleshtakers on the ground that night were nothing short of terrifying to behold in combat.

'You should not have tried to draw us out, Marauders.... Any last words?'

Standing proudly with Falchion in hand, Rook chuckled a little but calmed enough to respond,'Yeah, just one though.', pausing for effect as he rested the spine of the blade across his left shoulder, spitting on the ground between both duos. This provided something of a little distraction for everyone there to see it, though like Dreamer in his planning phases, Rook was laser-focused on the statement of intent as he pointed to where it landed and concluded,'That word - KNEEL!!!!', as the cold whites of his irises seemed to glow in the foggy, smoke-filled gloom of the jungle as it drew increasingly dark around them. And yet, as Dreamer's opponent looked into his eyes, they'd find a menacing red hue glaring hatred back at them instead, providing an eerie, though complementary contrast to Rook in the moments preceding the fight for which they had quite literally been screaming out into the heavens above.

'To whom? Your Matriarch? Your Reverend-Mother, perhaps? Your Warlord? We kneel to none but the Dark Voice! NONE BUT OUR DARK LORD AND THE DARK THREE!!! YOU HEAR ME, WHITE-EYES?!?!'

These were no mere Marauders, with both standing as clear exemplars - and still ringing true for their small, elite cast of tribal Darkhans within the exemplary Tri-Lunar clique.

Supreme champions in their own right, despite their lack of Force-Wielding power.

<"Rook, Dreamer - this is Caz.... Bad news.... They left with the Matriarch, we're only facing a token show-out now.... We're done here.">

<"Good, then relay this order to the others.... LEAVE - NONE - ALIVE!!!! Dreamer out!">

The surprise of finding out that the Darkhan duo weren't alone out there was written all over the faces of their counterparts, shocked that the perceived dregs of a once-great tribe could exhibit even half that level of cunning in the Scar Hounds' second great iteration, and in this, Rook and Dreamer saw their opportunity to land their first strikes. Taking the initiative and turning the advantage against Fleshtakers was seldom achieved under such circumstances, but in the usage of the lull in hostilities to control the flow of their play as it continued in full motion, the Arkanian and the Chiss had no time to indulge the process of looking their gift-horse in the mouth. The Darkhans always leaned heavily on their love of sudden ferocity, and with the help of Mar'Zambul's gravity and Barran's habit of pushing them to their limits in training along with it, the frighteningly-quick charges from their starting points would make them appear all the more intimidating in the eyes of their adversaries.

Made all the more frightening by the twitchy, spasmodic unpredictability of their tic-addled duelling habits - still owed to the Spice intoxication for the most part.

'KNEEL, SCUM!!!! KNEEEEEEEEL!!!!'

The Shi'iDo's blades were always meant for assassinations as opposed to the open confrontations like the one they had just been enticed into, but despite their clear adversity against the thick Songsteel falchions of their opponents, the resilience of their glass-thin slicers were proving as testaments to all Fleshtakers across the Galaxy; as not only were they able to defend against singular strikes, but were also able to counter and reply from each parry, and even more notably from combinations that otherwise would have broken the blades of lesser assassins of their sort. These were no ordinary Shi'iDo Fleshtakers, far from it, but despite their clear proficiency in CQC situations, they were still struggling with desperation against the strength, coordination and ferocity of the Darkhan swordsmen - completely dumbfounded by Marauders of whom they believed were mostly incapable of achieving such feats without help.

'I smell Spice, but I know there's more to you freaks! WHAT IS IT?!?!?!'

The fight would only intensify from there, and as the fight progressed, the tenacity of both sides of the fight would only find further proof as both sides continued to hurl insults and strikes alike, persisting in what was quickly showing the makings of a duellist's marvel. Force-users would raise eyebrows, true powers would turn their heads, and for the better part of twenty minutes, trained perfection would have it's archetypally wondrous showcase - though not for long.

'You'll learn soon enough, Shi'iDo scum! NOW SHUT UP AND SHOW ME WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!!!!'

The Reverend Mother's ritual, wondrous though it would be for all the Mawsworn warriors on Panatha, would sadly work so well that it blocked both duos apart from each other, splitting them off as if all four warriors had been restrained and separately kettled within their own protective bubbles. It was almost as if Stradd knew there was ultraviolent discord between tribes that night, and not only for the duelling duos, but for all the others in the area working to slit the throats of their enemies, (or to root out the slitters in turn) making it appear as if the same sort of restraint was working it's magic to guard both sides of those hostilities also. Even with all their efforts to burst through or bash their barriers against those of their opponents, nothing could break the Dark Three's magic, and in this most frustrating of realisations, the Darkhans and their Fleshtaker counterparts could do nothing but growl and hurl vitriolic hatred back and forth verbally.

Though unlike their ceaseless fighting beforehand, the closing segments of the fight would arrive quite abruptly, prompting both opposing sides to call off their part in the battle; but as soon as the Darkhans began to walk away, they'd turn back to find the Shi'iDo still standing where they left them, staring deathly intent whilst their eyes could still be seen in the dark.

'Be seein' you, Scar Hounds.... Be seein' you real soon.'

EXIT THREAD​
 
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The Battalion

Another Brick in Syd's Wall
The Battalion was trapped.

The Crystal of the Sith Lightsaber she had taken from a fellow Cultist was just strong enough to serve as an anchor to keep from being pulled into Chaos, but at the cost of her and the heavily drained minds bound to her being too weak to escape, too weak to even signal Xiphos she was "alive".

She was trapped, in all the ways that mattered.

She hovered in a Red, featureless void, the faces of the dozens of witches she was composed of bulging out of her ethereal shell everywhere.

It was not the first time she had gone into hibernation. She hadn't known when she would be revived the last time, and didn't know if she would be revived this time.

She was definitely going to hate it more the second time around.

She had a family. She was... starting to think differently... strangely, for a Brain Demon Cultist...

She wanted to see Galahad Io . That would have made this easier. It was Silly, she knew--like his brothers, Galahad regarded her and all the other Cultists as monsters (Which was true) .

But the problem was even monsters got attached now and then. Certainly not in healthy ways. But it did happen.

She had kept up the awkward attempts to connect...just before leaving for Panatha, she had left him copies of scrolls written by Darth Phyre herself (With explicit instructions to burn what he read after committing it to memory), which would surely provide a valuable insight. Why was that so special beyond another attempt to bond? Because she had copied those without asking.

She had committed what in the Cult amounted to Treason just because she wanted her Stepson to not totally loathe her.

Was she being punished for that? She couldn't tell. Usually a trip to Chaos was sign enough from The Brain Demon that she was displeased.

She had tried to justify it, say the Brain Demon had double-dealed first, by turning Rebecca, making her a liar.

She knew how paper thin that reasoning was.

As she drifted into a pausing of consciousness she kept wondering if he would even care about her potential demise. She suddenly deeply regretted how much human was missing in herself. In all her selves.

Galahad... she thought before her minds paused in the crimson void.

In the real world, the corrupted Lightsaber was scooped up.

Unlike so many societies, where a dumbass finds one of these things and blatantly ignores it's clearly Evil-Wizard nature, which normally results in a series of often darkly comedic situations that end in either a Group Ritual Murder, Group Ritual Suicide, Group Ritual Murder-Suicide, or just simple acts of torture and mild cannibalism that get live streamed on the Holonet, like the murder-suicides previously mentioned, a House Io Citizen spotting a clearly evil Lightsaber is not going to do the stupid thing and touch it with their bare hands. They will grab tongs, find the nearest bucket of Nullification Resin and dump it in a vat full of the stuff then file it away as someone else's problem.

This is exactly what happened to the Lightsaber The Battalion was in...

Which was scooped up by a waiting Darth Themis in disguise after she Force Persuaded a House Citizen to give it up and forget, having patiently waited months for this exact scenario to come to pass...

It was a desperate move on her part. It was really her last chance to pull Xiphos away from the Cult, to try and salvage the disaster her apprentice/grandchild had turned out to be.

Did she think it would work? Not particularly. Xiphos had made it clear at Kashyyyk she would never stop attacking The Jedi, never cease in her persecution of them. She had cemented herself as a permanent foe of them, and so had her House.

All Themis could do was whisk away the only person keeping Xiphos any kind of stable...

Meanwhile... (AT THE LEGION OF DOOM'S HEADQUARTERS)

The Order had come in, and the Soldier being given the Order, hadn't volunteered for it. He had been assigned. But he had orders.

What his name was was not important. Nothing in his background suggested he would end up here. This was the most important day of his life, the second most imporant being during the first time the Mandalorians came to Panatha.

You see, he'd been just a combat engineer back then. He had come under heavy fire with his unit from Mandalorians while defending the Shield Generator. He had nearly died, but without realizing it, because as a Mandalorian had been about to shoot him in the back when he was completely unaware from a roof, a House Io soldier had snuck up on the Mandalorian and blew his head off with an armor piercing shotgun.

He didn't know this, too busy not dying, and the House Io soldier, for his part, never even knew he had saved anyone in particular. The Soldier never knew how close to death he had come, but the unexpected save had led to the mother of all Butterflies getting violently stepped on.

He was Disciplined. Competent. Loyal. He was not particularly ambitious. He was selected for what was to happen precisiely because of his perfectly average background. His identity would be protected from release. That had been his one request. It was granted.

Because it's not every day one gets an order like the one he was getting.

You see, He was the one who was going to fire the Bullet into the Brain of the Planet. It was different than the Death Star. The entire Planet was Moe Greene and he was the handgun.

His day had been uneventful up to this point as the transmission from Trinity Harris Trinity Harris came through.

He did not hesitate. No breath to prepare as he took out his key, secure aboard a bridge on another ship, well behind Eternal lines.

Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren was performing the mother of all Mana Drain spells. No matter what happened today, Panatha was going the way of another season of Firefly. Or Dracula and Magneto at the Hot Gates because some Dude blabbed about a freaking Goat Pass. A Goat Pass.

He turned the key, opening the panel, and typed in his launch code.

He then hit the activation key.

The big giant bullet-bomb thingy roared to life on the ground, the soldiers defending it fending off relentless attack from Mawites.

The site was coming under bombardment now, but the bullet bomb about to give Panatha a free ride to that Destroyed Planets Club in the sky was already drilling away, even as defenders were overwhelmed, the Mawites desperately trying to have the hole targeted now...


(Narrator: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim , finally cut to the quick? Will Kyrel Ren gain massive amounts of XP for wasting the surface of a planet? Will the Bullet Bomb boogie with Panatha's core? Why does my voice sound so dramatic suddenly? Tune in next week for startling revelations! Same Admins Time, Same Admins Channel!)
 
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Y’sanne Stradd
Heathen Priestess, Reverend Mother, Priestess of the Dark Three, High Priestess of the Scar Hounds Tribe
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Objective: To carry out the will of the Avatars.
Location: Ritual Site, Panatha Jungle
Equipment: Sacrifical Dagger | Sacrifical Dagger | Staff | Crown | Amulet of Many
Units: 2x Pontifical Palatini (members, not units) | Large group of Ri Wodasir | The Martyrs
Allies: Nal'Khem Szat Nal'Khem Szat (?) | Open
Enemies: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Torrun Vell Torrun Vell | Open
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[ Let There Be Night ]
<"ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Y'sanne saves the Mawites with an unknow power.
  • She thinks it was belonged to the Avatars.
  • The same power pulled her into the Netherworld.
Y'sanne #1
Y'sanne #2
Caltin #1
Torrun #1
Y'sanne #3
Caltin #2
Torrun #2
Y'sanne #4
Caltin #3
Torrun #3

Y'sanne waited patiently for the two individuals to arrive. But she wasn't actually waiting for them, but for what the Dark Three had predicted for her. And it soon happened. She felt it when Kyrel and the power of the ritual reached the planet. In her mind the voices almost screamed "NOW"! The woman knew that there was no need to worry about the Martyrs, since they were undead, they were souls, if they were lost, it wouldn't matter, there were plenty of them in the Netherworld that the Dark Three could still use. The three Avatars tried and wanted to keep the living alive, this time. They didn't want them dead now.

And the woman was only their voice, so she did not doubt their words and will. Thus, when the power of the ritual was very close, the woman raised her hands in the air.

"Use me to do your will! Use me as your instrument!" she said solemnly.

In the next moment, the woman felt a huge force that flowed into her body, it was also felt in the Force. The power from the Netherworld entered her, temporarily increasing her power. Who and where this power came from was unknown, but what is certain is that the priestess did not exceptionally use it to attack, but that this power extended to those who are in the service of the Maw, but not to the Martyrs.

This power created a kind of protective field around all Mawites who were on the planet, protecting them from the ritual, so that Kyrel was unable to drain their life force or affect them. The same was true for the Martyrs, they were not alive, they had no soul. As the ritual sped past this part and where the Mawites were, the power left the woman. She was in a kind of religious stupor under this power's influence, she didn't even sense what was happening around them.

At that moment, however, she felt that an unknown, invisible force hugged her waist and pulled the priestess into the vastly expanded rift which led to the Netherworld.

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Spindly
Warden of Hrjóstrugt IV, Magnarra and Marauder of the Scar Hounds Tribe
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Objective: Kill everyone and survive
Location: Markwood Marshes, Spirewatch Forest, Canthar Province, Panatha
Equipment: 2x Geysa Hybrid Pistol | Assault Rifle | Armour and weapon (weapon is lightsaber resistant) || OPBC-01m
Writing With: Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | Jas Katis Jas Katis
Allies: Erion Justeene Erion Justeene | Ronar Ronar | Runt Runt | Open
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[ Last Survivors ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Spindly she loses her consciousness.
Spindly #1
Jas #1
Tommy #1
Tommy #2
Spindly #2
Jas #2
Tommy #3
Spindly #3
Jas #3
Tommy #4
Spindly #4
Tommy #5
Spindly #5
Jas #4
Tommy #6
Spindly #6
Tommy #7

"Yet I am not worthy to enter the Paradise, not yet." she said in a low voice full of pain

After that, the woman still heard the Bloodhound talking to her, but she no longer remembered his words. She couldn't understand them, they were either too fast or too slow. Spindly began to feel very ill from the stabbing. She didn't really notice that the planet was dying around them. How could she have sensed this? The Twi'lek girl was not a Force user, nor was she even a Sensitive, just a Force-attunement, and even then not very strong. Just as much as any other average twi'lek.

Precisely because of these, because of her bad condition, the girl did not hear what he ordered, at this moment she did not perceive and did not know that the Warlord had just appointed her Magnarra, despite the girl's failures. If she had still been able to understand this, she would certainly have protested that she was not worthy of this, that she did not have enough experience. On the other hand, she would have been happy, because in this way she became closer to Mongrel's merits, even though her name was not feared by many people in the galaxy, like her first warlord of the Scar Hounds Tribe. But maybe, what's late...

She could still hear the voice of the warlord, the Bloodhound, and then she felt the man's arms around her back and backs of her knees. Just as she no longer had to kneel or struggle to keep from falling to the ground, the pain in her stomach lessened somewhat because of this, although the wound was still bleeding profusely and it was still painful.

She tried to say something, but she couldn't, Spindly was engulfed in darkness, it embraced her, leaving her unconscious as the planet's fate was sealed.

Last post.​
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Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The Light of Ashla

Champion and Avatar of Ashla
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Objective: Try to stop the ritual and prevent Zach to reach Kyrel and Ingrid.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood | Closed
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open
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[ Valkyrjan ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina does not fight anymore, but tries to save as many people as possible.
Eina #1
Zach #1
Eina #2
Zach #2
Eina #3
Zach #3
Eina #4
Zach #4
Eina #5
Zach #5
Eina #6
Zach #6
Eina #7
Zach #7
Eina #8
Zach #8
Eina #9
Zach #9
Eina #10
Zach #10
Eina #11
Zach #11
Eina #12
Zach #12
Eina #13
Zach #13
Eina #14
Zach #14

"No, we show what kind of life awaits those who choose only simple death and we show what our life is like. After that they can choose. You'd be surprised, but most people say no and choose to pass away instead of fighting more, struggling more." she told him.

But she didn't expect him to understand this. For that, one would have to see it, they would have to experience it. Since the man was not dying, she could not share the opportunities offered during the choice, precisely because of this the kind of study that Gei chose could come into question. Although the man had moved to the Sanctuary because of Eina, anyone could still visit the Valkyrja city over there and learn from them.

Eina sighed, Zachariel was a great example of why she didn't like overly religious people. They cannot be convinced by logic or anything else. For them, only what they believe in exists. They speak their own truth even when they know they are wrong. Of course, there were exceptions. Fortunately, Gei was an exception.

"Mother…" she breathed.

Eina felt the ritual then, even before it reached the planet. She recognized what it was, even though she had never seen one before. The woman let Zachariel run past her, she didn't even answer the man, instead she reached out to the Force, and used what was left of her power to protect as many people as possible from the ritual. While she was dealing with this, she also felt the Dark Side forces, which intervened and did something similar with Eina. The Avatar recognized these Force signatures, and it really surprised her.

She never thought that they would be the ones trying to protect Mawites. Fortunately, however, Eina was fine with this…

And Kyrel's power had reached here, Eina's shields and defences held up around anyone she managed to raise this protective shield around. As soon as this power disappeared because the ritual was over, the former Valkyrja fell to the ground tired, completely exhausted. The ritual only consumed the life force, the souls reached the Netherworld, but even then, so many deaths were painful for her, especially since it was meaningless and the fight was not even given to most of them.

But she had one more thing to do… she had to free her mother.

Last post.​
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