Zola
Knight of the Obsidian Order
*wrong character, sorry*
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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When the Cats Are Away...
- Thread starter Vrag
- Start date
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- Tags
- mandalorians one sith skirmish
Sage Bane
Gazing into the abyss
Location: Keldabe streets
Allies: [member="Tanek Santii"], possibly [member="Darth Venefica"]
Enemies: [member="Rhen Asakaari"] (claimed) and whoever else wants to fight
"Shut up Pinky," came a purr over the commlinks. Sage knew better than to contest the last word when it came to [member="Vrag"] so he did not chance a retort. Especially after she had helped him get the gear he needed for this operation. The Firrerreo had warned him that he would be mincemeat against the Mandos without the Vonduun Skerr Kyrric armor of the Yuuzhan Vong. Sage took her advice and donned a set much like the stock crab armor worn by the Legion Yun'do the only difference being, the left arm piece had been removed to make way for his biot, an amphistaff arm that he used in battle. His shoulder's black leathery tentacles were already exposed, and the creatures were ravenously hungry. They had been starved the day before, and as Sage felt what they felt, he too felt exceptionally bloodthirsty. He had with him, of course, his faithful red plasma blade, but instead of his usual electro-whip, this time he carried a Vong Whipsting. What could he say? Sage liked to match.
The dropship landed in a clearing on the outskirts of the city of Keldabe. On board the small craft with Sage was Acolyte [member="Tanek Santii"], a fellow illusionist that would fight alongside him today. Sage hoped that the two would finally get a chance to do some collaborating on their illusions. The two of them working together could make entire city streets run screaming in fear.
For this war, the Sith Knight had also pledged himself to [member="Darth Venefica"], if she should need his assistance on the battlefield. He had joined the Dagobah Sith Lord on Dorin during a purge of a Kel-Dor Jedi enclave when he was just an Acolyte and was eager to learn from her again. He also had heard about her predilection for enslaving some of her captures from battle, and as Sage, Tanek and their soliders began to press on to the city, he absently wondered about the logistics of her prizes. Did she keep them chained up on her ship? Did she take them places with her? Did she walk them around like dogs on leashes? Sage himself wasn't a big fan of slavery, but if it behooved the One Sith, then he generally made an exception. Besides, perhaps the lovely [member="Sitara Qin"] would like a chained Mandalorian as a present. He had to bring her back a souvenir after all.
Allies: [member="Tanek Santii"], possibly [member="Darth Venefica"]
Enemies: [member="Rhen Asakaari"] (claimed) and whoever else wants to fight
"Shut up Pinky," came a purr over the commlinks. Sage knew better than to contest the last word when it came to [member="Vrag"] so he did not chance a retort. Especially after she had helped him get the gear he needed for this operation. The Firrerreo had warned him that he would be mincemeat against the Mandos without the Vonduun Skerr Kyrric armor of the Yuuzhan Vong. Sage took her advice and donned a set much like the stock crab armor worn by the Legion Yun'do the only difference being, the left arm piece had been removed to make way for his biot, an amphistaff arm that he used in battle. His shoulder's black leathery tentacles were already exposed, and the creatures were ravenously hungry. They had been starved the day before, and as Sage felt what they felt, he too felt exceptionally bloodthirsty. He had with him, of course, his faithful red plasma blade, but instead of his usual electro-whip, this time he carried a Vong Whipsting. What could he say? Sage liked to match.
The dropship landed in a clearing on the outskirts of the city of Keldabe. On board the small craft with Sage was Acolyte [member="Tanek Santii"], a fellow illusionist that would fight alongside him today. Sage hoped that the two would finally get a chance to do some collaborating on their illusions. The two of them working together could make entire city streets run screaming in fear.
For this war, the Sith Knight had also pledged himself to [member="Darth Venefica"], if she should need his assistance on the battlefield. He had joined the Dagobah Sith Lord on Dorin during a purge of a Kel-Dor Jedi enclave when he was just an Acolyte and was eager to learn from her again. He also had heard about her predilection for enslaving some of her captures from battle, and as Sage, Tanek and their soliders began to press on to the city, he absently wondered about the logistics of her prizes. Did she keep them chained up on her ship? Did she take them places with her? Did she walk them around like dogs on leashes? Sage himself wasn't a big fan of slavery, but if it behooved the One Sith, then he generally made an exception. Besides, perhaps the lovely [member="Sitara Qin"] would like a chained Mandalorian as a present. He had to bring her back a souvenir after all.
Kadala Kotyc
Daughter of Mandalore
LOCATION: Keldabe, Street Level
OBJECTIVE: Smite the fool who strikes at Mandalore
ALLIES: Warriors of Mandalore
ENEMIES: Sith {Targeting [member="Sabik Dhami"]}
"Alright, di'kuts, what utreekov thought it was a good idea to jurkadir with me? I'm about to hit a shabuir," the Skirata said, using some of her favorite Mando'a words. Her threat (that of hitting a schutta) quickly came true as she elbowed a Vong in the face. "Back off, demagolka, I'm here to beat up the darjetti who tried to hettir me, not fight a bunch of little akaan'ade!" Letting out a roar the woman kicked another soldier down, firing at the one besides him at the same time. While some blaster bolts were sent her way they were quickly stopped by her trusty beskar'gam. The prized armor would keep her safe while she searched for the one who attacked her. Where is that ge'hutuun? One last glance over the heads of the intruders gave her a target. Whether or not the man was the one who had crushed her grenade, the look he had made Kad know that he was looking for a fight. And she'd be damned if he didn't get one! Smirking from behind her helmet she jumped one more time to cross the last of the gap. A harsh 'thud' was heard as she landed in front of the Sith, her lightsaber now pointed at his chest, her blaster held at her side. "I request a duel, darjetti. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Do you accept?" Should he say no... well, she'd attack him anyway. But it felt better to ask first. It was her way of keeping ijaat, or honor. She didn't trust the Sith to play fair or for him to show honor. That would be foolish. However, while she was outright crazy, she still held a love for tradition. What was more traditional than a solus-bat-solus fight? Maybe some good beer and spicy food after a fight. Yeah, that sounded about right to her, though her focus was still on the man she faced. Kadala Skirata, daughter of the former Mand'alor, was more than ready for anything he tried to throw at her.
OBJECTIVE: Smite the fool who strikes at Mandalore
ALLIES: Warriors of Mandalore
ENEMIES: Sith {Targeting [member="Sabik Dhami"]}
x1: Standard yellow lightsaber.
x2: Forcebreaker Gas Grenade
x2: Forcebreaker Gas Grenade
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=98&v=RNRsvFsY9qk[/media]
Targets were lined up left and right. Vong here, Sith there, monsters everywhere. What a ripe picking for the Goddess. How many bodies would be left over after the fight?... Would it take days to clean up the mess? Maybe. There'd be a funeral pyre that night. One for comrades not gone, but simply marching far away. Kadala was certain that she would not join the fire. It was her duty to tear apart the intruders and that's what she'd do. Inside she doubted any of those present would be able to take on the daughter of Mand'alor. Not the daughter who spent half of her life fighting to survive in an alien world's arena. Fighting? That was what she knew. This was in more than just her blood. Even while she searched for a main opponent she shot bolt after bolt at the Vong, occasionally pausing to kick another away or slash at them with her blade. 'Twas the twinge of the force near her that caught her true attention. A single glance let her know it was the grenades someone was going after. Scowling she acted as quickly as she could, wrapping her own force powers around the device, attempting to prevent it from caving in. All the while she unhooked it from her belt. If it went off near her... while it had no blast power, the gas released would potentially damage her force abilities... along with those of anyone else who breathed the fumes in. That... that would actually help. With a smirk she threw the object into the air, letting it be crushed, the gas within started to seep out into the surrounding area. Broken pieces of the shell fell with only a little 'thud'. Knowing well that her helmet would prevent the substance from reaching her lungs Kadala started running. She leaped, using the force to aid her, practically flying over part of the crowd."Alright, di'kuts, what utreekov thought it was a good idea to jurkadir with me? I'm about to hit a shabuir," the Skirata said, using some of her favorite Mando'a words. Her threat (that of hitting a schutta) quickly came true as she elbowed a Vong in the face. "Back off, demagolka, I'm here to beat up the darjetti who tried to hettir me, not fight a bunch of little akaan'ade!" Letting out a roar the woman kicked another soldier down, firing at the one besides him at the same time. While some blaster bolts were sent her way they were quickly stopped by her trusty beskar'gam. The prized armor would keep her safe while she searched for the one who attacked her. Where is that ge'hutuun? One last glance over the heads of the intruders gave her a target. Whether or not the man was the one who had crushed her grenade, the look he had made Kad know that he was looking for a fight. And she'd be damned if he didn't get one! Smirking from behind her helmet she jumped one more time to cross the last of the gap. A harsh 'thud' was heard as she landed in front of the Sith, her lightsaber now pointed at his chest, her blaster held at her side. "I request a duel, darjetti. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Do you accept?" Should he say no... well, she'd attack him anyway. But it felt better to ask first. It was her way of keeping ijaat, or honor. She didn't trust the Sith to play fair or for him to show honor. That would be foolish. However, while she was outright crazy, she still held a love for tradition. What was more traditional than a solus-bat-solus fight? Maybe some good beer and spicy food after a fight. Yeah, that sounded about right to her, though her focus was still on the man she faced. Kadala Skirata, daughter of the former Mand'alor, was more than ready for anything he tried to throw at her.
[member="Vrag"] | [member="Darth Valdra"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Emilia Marean"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Tanek Santii"] | @All force users in area
Orick T'ane
Troublemaker
Location: Keldabe, like everyone else
Objective: 1000 posts, that's what's up.
Enemies: [member="Vrag"] [member="Rose Kuhn"] @the One Sith big happy family.
Allies: The Dysfunctional Mandalorians? (not really dysfunctional, but if the sith were happy, someone had to be a train wreck)
Gear: See bio
Kelbade was a war zone, there was smoke drifting into the air from hundreds of little fires throughout the city. Orick wandered through the deserted streets, most of the people had either moved forward to engage the sith or fallen back to a safe point. The hovercar never even made it into the city proper, he had given it to a someone helping the wounded get to a hospital. He was more comfortable on the ground anyway, the car only made him a bigger target. His helmet filtered out the soot in the air, but he could still taste the ash.
The two droids flanked him as they moved through the city, their lightsabers deactivated to reduce their chances of being seen. The screams grew louder as he moved through the streets. Wreckage of cars and speeders littering the roads, some with bodies still in them. He was used to this, but it never got easier to deal with, the blatant destruction of civilians always bothered him, and he was going to stop it as quickly as he could. His rifle was held at the ready, and his pistol belt was loaded down with the two pistols and the knife he carried. The little bit of armor wasn't visible under his clothes, and while he wanted more protection, he was moving much faster with the under armour on. He was also able to creep along with alot less noise than his usual bulky armor would allow, which is one of the reasons he got as far as he did without anyone noticing.
In urban warfare, side streets were your best friend, and his familiarity with the city allowed him to bypass the roving gun battles that were slowly engulfing the city. His intent was to find someone that looked like they were giving orders, those were the sith that needed to be dealt with, like any snake, once you cut off the head, the body would thrash around, but it was still going to die. He saw the small alley up ahead and he smiled. He wanted to remain off of comms for as long as possible, because he wasn't sure who or what the sith had brought down with them. As he reached the alley he peeked around the corner and saw a someone he had seen before, on Geonisis. He knew who she was but didn't know her and he wasn't certain that this plan had as much merit as he thought it did a few minutes ago. [member="Vrag"], the something or the other of the Sith. He didn't really know her title, but he knew she had earned it, and the armor as well, not that he had any idea what it was other than something kriffing tough.
Pulling the rifle up to his shoulder,he relaxed as his helmet's HUD helped him with the aim. Years of training kicked in as his body relaxed and his breathing steadied, his finger gently squeezed the trigger as soon as he let out his breath. The shot was further away than he wanted, but if he moved into the alley he would give up the little bit of surprise he had. He aimed for her chest, center mass, but he had no illusions that it would be enough to take her out of the fight. He waited to see the result as he lined up a second shot.
Objective: 1000 posts, that's what's up.
Enemies: [member="Vrag"] [member="Rose Kuhn"] @the One Sith big happy family.
Allies: The Dysfunctional Mandalorians? (not really dysfunctional, but if the sith were happy, someone had to be a train wreck)
Gear: See bio
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gorMzHRU9yg
Kelbade was a war zone, there was smoke drifting into the air from hundreds of little fires throughout the city. Orick wandered through the deserted streets, most of the people had either moved forward to engage the sith or fallen back to a safe point. The hovercar never even made it into the city proper, he had given it to a someone helping the wounded get to a hospital. He was more comfortable on the ground anyway, the car only made him a bigger target. His helmet filtered out the soot in the air, but he could still taste the ash.
The two droids flanked him as they moved through the city, their lightsabers deactivated to reduce their chances of being seen. The screams grew louder as he moved through the streets. Wreckage of cars and speeders littering the roads, some with bodies still in them. He was used to this, but it never got easier to deal with, the blatant destruction of civilians always bothered him, and he was going to stop it as quickly as he could. His rifle was held at the ready, and his pistol belt was loaded down with the two pistols and the knife he carried. The little bit of armor wasn't visible under his clothes, and while he wanted more protection, he was moving much faster with the under armour on. He was also able to creep along with alot less noise than his usual bulky armor would allow, which is one of the reasons he got as far as he did without anyone noticing.
In urban warfare, side streets were your best friend, and his familiarity with the city allowed him to bypass the roving gun battles that were slowly engulfing the city. His intent was to find someone that looked like they were giving orders, those were the sith that needed to be dealt with, like any snake, once you cut off the head, the body would thrash around, but it was still going to die. He saw the small alley up ahead and he smiled. He wanted to remain off of comms for as long as possible, because he wasn't sure who or what the sith had brought down with them. As he reached the alley he peeked around the corner and saw a someone he had seen before, on Geonisis. He knew who she was but didn't know her and he wasn't certain that this plan had as much merit as he thought it did a few minutes ago. [member="Vrag"], the something or the other of the Sith. He didn't really know her title, but he knew she had earned it, and the armor as well, not that he had any idea what it was other than something kriffing tough.
Pulling the rifle up to his shoulder,he relaxed as his helmet's HUD helped him with the aim. Years of training kicked in as his body relaxed and his breathing steadied, his finger gently squeezed the trigger as soon as he let out his breath. The shot was further away than he wanted, but if he moved into the alley he would give up the little bit of surprise he had. He aimed for her chest, center mass, but he had no illusions that it would be enough to take her out of the fight. He waited to see the result as he lined up a second shot.
Kraigmiir Hijiin
Duo
LOCATION: Keldabe, third floor
OBJECTIVE: Break every bone, drain all the blood
ALLIES: The Mando'ade {[member="Nolan Detta"]}
ENEMIES: Sith {Targeting [member="Rose Kuhn"]}
OBJECTIVE: Break every bone, drain all the blood
ALLIES: The Mando'ade {[member="Nolan Detta"]}
ENEMIES: Sith {Targeting [member="Rose Kuhn"]}
x1: Lanvarok, gauntlet version, left hand
x3: Forcebreaker Gas Grenades
x2: Mandalorian Ripper MK-II
x1: Standard beskad {Strapped to back}
x1: Silver light-club {On belt}
x1: Hyperion Combat Armor
x3: Forcebreaker Gas Grenades
x2: Mandalorian Ripper MK-II
x1: Standard beskad {Strapped to back}
x1: Silver light-club {On belt}
x1: Hyperion Combat Armor
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyLOJDyrtww[/media]
Dodged. Crushed. The ad'ika held strength within her, after all. Enough to break what was sent at her. More than enough to stay alive for the start of the fight. How long will she last? Kraigmiir wondered, head tipping to the side. Once upon a time she would have never thought of harming a child. Now, to her, the thing she saw before her, racing towards the building, the thing was just that. A thing. An item, an object, just something in her way. Something that she'd have to break down in order to move on. Parry. The thought crossed her mind in the same moment her hand drew out her light-club. It was ignited with an ever-familiar snap-hiss. In the hands of anyone else the blade would look massive, but in hers it was a simple longsword. A tool. Without a word she positioned the weapon in front of her, held out slightly, tipped at an open angle. Right as the Sith child's first lightsaber slashed outwards Krag swished her wrist. Deflection. Moving her arm she attempted to fling the girl's blade to the side. Next... Twist. Kick. 'Twas a simple plan. One interrupted by a flying Mando. Whatever he did, and however the lass responded, the Null went forward with her plan. A quick shift of weight to her right let her left leg come up to try and slam into the chest of her lightly armored foe. Little did she know that her ally was also attempting to slam into the girl. If they both made contact (which was possible, considering the miniscule gap between themselves and their foe)... well, either the girl would be crushed, or she'd be rather smushed. Much like the sandwich Hijiin planned on making later.Rhen Ordo
Liquid Smoke
Location: Streets of Keldabe
Objective: Give 'em hell
Allies: Sons and daughters of Mandalore
Enemies: [member="Sage Bane"], Sith aruetiise
Gear
When it came to war, there were certain rules to abide by. Treat your enemy with the respect and honor they deserve, and grant them a warrior's death should the time come to pass. Both were more or less disregarded when it came to the Sith. Honor was something they unquestionably lacked, and the idea of respect had never been equated with that name. This wouldn't be a traditional engagement among enemies that, while on opposite sides of the battlefield, still held some kind of regard for the other. No, the terms were different now. These people had killed and enslaved her vode, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. It was, dare she say, a bit personal to all of them.
The streets were already littered with bodies from both sides, Mandalorians, Vong and Sith soldiers alike remaining where they'd fallen. For her own part she fought as well, bringing down those adversaries she could with careful, precise shots from the rifle in her hands. This wasn't her first time on any kind of battlefield, and it showed. This was what she had spent time training for, why she took the mantle of Mandalorian as her own. The bolts she fired were returned, and she made no move to dodge, letting her beskar'gam do its work. It had been crafted carefully for this purpose, just like the rest of them. There would be funeral pyres erected at the end of the day for those fallen. However, she intended for the casualities of the Sith to far outnumber their own.
Taking a breath Rhen ducked into a side-street, utilizing that brief moment of reprieve to scan her surroundings for the foe each of them had been explicitly warned about. Foot soldiers were one thing, but taking on one of the Sith was another endeavor entirely. But they needed to be brought down to bring a close to things. So she would choose a target. There was a man approaching, seeming to take his time, regarding those fallen as if they didn't exist in the first place. The armor he wore instantly set him apart, even from a distance. Instinctively, she knew. Dar'Jetii. With a few adjustments to the HUD of her helmet he was marked as a primary target, allowing her to track his movements to some degree, particularly in combat. That aspect she would need, there was no question.
Slowly she lifted the rifle to her shoulder, sighting through the scope, patiently waiting for him to step closer. C'mon... The crosshairs hovered over the hollow of his throat, or where she assumed it to be, and she forced her breathing to steady. Her finger rested on the trigger, and finally she squeezed, firing off the shot that would decide her fate. The chances of any actual damage being dealt were slim, but every armor had its own vulnerabilities. From this distance, depending upon how he initially reacted, she would hopefully have time to determine just where those weak points were. If not, well, she had trained for this.
Objective: Give 'em hell
Allies: Sons and daughters of Mandalore
Enemies: [member="Sage Bane"], Sith aruetiise
Gear
When it came to war, there were certain rules to abide by. Treat your enemy with the respect and honor they deserve, and grant them a warrior's death should the time come to pass. Both were more or less disregarded when it came to the Sith. Honor was something they unquestionably lacked, and the idea of respect had never been equated with that name. This wouldn't be a traditional engagement among enemies that, while on opposite sides of the battlefield, still held some kind of regard for the other. No, the terms were different now. These people had killed and enslaved her vode, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. It was, dare she say, a bit personal to all of them.
The streets were already littered with bodies from both sides, Mandalorians, Vong and Sith soldiers alike remaining where they'd fallen. For her own part she fought as well, bringing down those adversaries she could with careful, precise shots from the rifle in her hands. This wasn't her first time on any kind of battlefield, and it showed. This was what she had spent time training for, why she took the mantle of Mandalorian as her own. The bolts she fired were returned, and she made no move to dodge, letting her beskar'gam do its work. It had been crafted carefully for this purpose, just like the rest of them. There would be funeral pyres erected at the end of the day for those fallen. However, she intended for the casualities of the Sith to far outnumber their own.
Taking a breath Rhen ducked into a side-street, utilizing that brief moment of reprieve to scan her surroundings for the foe each of them had been explicitly warned about. Foot soldiers were one thing, but taking on one of the Sith was another endeavor entirely. But they needed to be brought down to bring a close to things. So she would choose a target. There was a man approaching, seeming to take his time, regarding those fallen as if they didn't exist in the first place. The armor he wore instantly set him apart, even from a distance. Instinctively, she knew. Dar'Jetii. With a few adjustments to the HUD of her helmet he was marked as a primary target, allowing her to track his movements to some degree, particularly in combat. That aspect she would need, there was no question.
Slowly she lifted the rifle to her shoulder, sighting through the scope, patiently waiting for him to step closer. C'mon... The crosshairs hovered over the hollow of his throat, or where she assumed it to be, and she forced her breathing to steady. Her finger rested on the trigger, and finally she squeezed, firing off the shot that would decide her fate. The chances of any actual damage being dealt were slim, but every armor had its own vulnerabilities. From this distance, depending upon how he initially reacted, she would hopefully have time to determine just where those weak points were. If not, well, she had trained for this.
LOCATION: Keldabe, Third Floor
OBJECTIVE: Make Momma Proud
ALLIES: Sith, No One Immediately Helping
ENEMIES: [member="Kraigmiir Hijiin"] [member="Nolan Detta"]
(Kraig, I'm not getting your tags for some reason!)
Rose had been trained by two great women, two of the greatest women that the One Sith had ever known.
The first was her mother, Silara Kuhn. The woman that taught her first how to sue a blade. The woman that taught Rose how to use her Vahla body structure to her advantage. That taught her to be lithe and quick, that taught her to use her own boy like a counter weight, instead of a bludgeon.
Standing at five foot eight, and being skinny as a stick, it was not wrong to call Rose a diminutive girl. She was rather small after all, and with only the Asheran Armorweave clinging to her skin, it could be said that her range of motion was nearly unhindered, no armor getting in her way and no pesky jetpacks or bags sitting on her back. Compare that to the nine foot armored titan that she was fighting, and it would not be wrong to say that Rose was combating a lumbering Giant, and as we all know, lumbering giants are slow.
The second woman within Rose's life, the second great teacher Rose had in her life, was Vrag. The demon lady of the Sith. It was she, in their first training session together, that had taught Rose to always be aware of her surroundings. Of course, Rose had no special talent in senses of the force, no gift for precognition, and no third eye in the back of her head, but being aware of ones surroundings was rather simple when said surroundings were launching themselves at you quite literally screaming and firing their blaster.
So, as sniper shots landed all round her, some deflected by her lightsabers, some missing all together, and one or two searing into her armor, Rose moved around the Giant.
Using the lightsaber blade contact as leverage, and watching the reasonably slower woman kick towards her, Rose shifted her entire body. In one quick leap, the force flowing through her. Rose used the womans momentum to shift herself, and then the woman. Moving them both so that Rose rolled behind the lumbering Titan, straight into the path of her ally.
At the same time she came up, one lightsaber holding the massive lightclub in place, the other slicing towards the womans calf.
OBJECTIVE: Make Momma Proud
ALLIES: Sith, No One Immediately Helping
ENEMIES: [member="Kraigmiir Hijiin"] [member="Nolan Detta"]
(Kraig, I'm not getting your tags for some reason!)
Rose had been trained by two great women, two of the greatest women that the One Sith had ever known.
The first was her mother, Silara Kuhn. The woman that taught her first how to sue a blade. The woman that taught Rose how to use her Vahla body structure to her advantage. That taught her to be lithe and quick, that taught her to use her own boy like a counter weight, instead of a bludgeon.
Standing at five foot eight, and being skinny as a stick, it was not wrong to call Rose a diminutive girl. She was rather small after all, and with only the Asheran Armorweave clinging to her skin, it could be said that her range of motion was nearly unhindered, no armor getting in her way and no pesky jetpacks or bags sitting on her back. Compare that to the nine foot armored titan that she was fighting, and it would not be wrong to say that Rose was combating a lumbering Giant, and as we all know, lumbering giants are slow.
The second woman within Rose's life, the second great teacher Rose had in her life, was Vrag. The demon lady of the Sith. It was she, in their first training session together, that had taught Rose to always be aware of her surroundings. Of course, Rose had no special talent in senses of the force, no gift for precognition, and no third eye in the back of her head, but being aware of ones surroundings was rather simple when said surroundings were launching themselves at you quite literally screaming and firing their blaster.
So, as sniper shots landed all round her, some deflected by her lightsabers, some missing all together, and one or two searing into her armor, Rose moved around the Giant.
Using the lightsaber blade contact as leverage, and watching the reasonably slower woman kick towards her, Rose shifted her entire body. In one quick leap, the force flowing through her. Rose used the womans momentum to shift herself, and then the woman. Moving them both so that Rose rolled behind the lumbering Titan, straight into the path of her ally.
At the same time she came up, one lightsaber holding the massive lightclub in place, the other slicing towards the womans calf.
Matsu Xiangu
The Haruspex
LOCATION: Streets
OBJECTIVE: Touch the beard?
ALLIES: Me, myself, and I. And the OS.
ENEMIES: [member="Shepard"]
She wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty most days, at least not in the ways might expect of someone like her. Ovmar, wherever he was in the Galaxy or time or whatever, would probably be proud of the quiet she’d found in herself. Her mind – a hollow underneath a mountain, the silence of a thousand miles of caves with the awareness of the greatest of black holes – found the same pleasure in exploring the Force as it had back in those early days, but with a greater sense of self-preservation.
Or at least, most of the time. She still seemed to beeline for the largest opponents on a battlefield as evidenced by her fascination with Gabriel the first time she’d seen him, or how she selected the Mandalorian she was heading towards now. When hunger struck, it had to be sated.
She smiled when he did, starting a slow circle a good distance from him – five or six yards, well outside of his reach. Her head was tilted slightly, studying him. She was lightly armored, a bodysuit that would absorb a certain amount of any blow he landed on her, but would do little in the way of protecting her from weaponry. She relied on her agility in combat, especially against men like this one, and wearing anything heavy would only slow her down. She had her lightsaber and her Tal'galar Kal. She hadn’t yet had the chance to use it against a Mando – what sweet irony! – but it would help against those in beskar where even her phrik claws would be of little use.
But they were back-up. First she shook the foundation, watched cracks rip through the drywall before she tore the building down.
“What are you?” she asked, unfamiliar with the all-encompassing sense of cold surrounding him. As she asked she quietly attempted to slip in to his mind, right at the brainstem where the most primal reactions were housed. Here she would inject terror – not so much as to be obvious and reveal herself, but enough to set his heart racing, his palms sweating, throw him off guard enough to open himself to pain.
OBJECTIVE: Touch the beard?
ALLIES: Me, myself, and I. And the OS.
ENEMIES: [member="Shepard"]
She wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty most days, at least not in the ways might expect of someone like her. Ovmar, wherever he was in the Galaxy or time or whatever, would probably be proud of the quiet she’d found in herself. Her mind – a hollow underneath a mountain, the silence of a thousand miles of caves with the awareness of the greatest of black holes – found the same pleasure in exploring the Force as it had back in those early days, but with a greater sense of self-preservation.
Or at least, most of the time. She still seemed to beeline for the largest opponents on a battlefield as evidenced by her fascination with Gabriel the first time she’d seen him, or how she selected the Mandalorian she was heading towards now. When hunger struck, it had to be sated.
She smiled when he did, starting a slow circle a good distance from him – five or six yards, well outside of his reach. Her head was tilted slightly, studying him. She was lightly armored, a bodysuit that would absorb a certain amount of any blow he landed on her, but would do little in the way of protecting her from weaponry. She relied on her agility in combat, especially against men like this one, and wearing anything heavy would only slow her down. She had her lightsaber and her Tal'galar Kal. She hadn’t yet had the chance to use it against a Mando – what sweet irony! – but it would help against those in beskar where even her phrik claws would be of little use.
But they were back-up. First she shook the foundation, watched cracks rip through the drywall before she tore the building down.
“What are you?” she asked, unfamiliar with the all-encompassing sense of cold surrounding him. As she asked she quietly attempted to slip in to his mind, right at the brainstem where the most primal reactions were housed. Here she would inject terror – not so much as to be obvious and reveal herself, but enough to set his heart racing, his palms sweating, throw him off guard enough to open himself to pain.
nihil
Location: The streets of Keldabe
Objective: A skull serves no purpose once removed from the body
Allies: [member="Vrag"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Darth Valdra"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Rose Kuhn"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Valens"] | [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Enemies: [member="Azrael"] | [member="Orick T'ane"] | [member="Titan"] | [member="Solan Charr"] | [member="Kadala Skirata"]
Gear: Vonduun armor, Voxyn Arm, Chom-Huun, Roecnar, Yuuzhan vong toys (magma pebbles, plasma eel, Chitin Carbine)
The ship came to the landing the Wrath had expected, maneuvers evading attacks to rip a hole in the thing thought protected, smearing the world around it in red: two coats. The beasts, the monsters, the willing and loyal, would engage one another on the battlefield this day. For Gabriel, he sniffed at the air as the doors opened, a beast catching just the hint of fresh meat drifting softly overheard. For those so inclined to dive into his aura, they may find the gaping maw something akin to the last resistance against final temptation, just before the fall.
A beskad cut the air and caught his lifted right forearm, the vonduun squealed and the warmaster laughed as he ducked, delivering an overpowered left handed punch to the armpit of some nameless warrior. Right hand pushed forward, grabbing the throat of the soldier, just below the beskargam helmet. A twist and a spin of the wrist, the soldier fell to the ground as the Wrath crushed the vocal cord between his voxyn fingers. Head snapping to the left, the right hand reached forward as he pushed in, catching the swinging left elbow of another attacker with a punch of his own. Doubling down, he grabbed the man by the bottom of his breast plate and the extension of his attacking arm. With a turn, he threw the figure screaming into a pile of Yuuzhan Vong, to be consumed by their hate and blood thirst. Just then, the clink of the force breaker grenade drew his attention for the briefest moments as he caught glimpse of the figure who threw it as she moved through the vong, [member="Kadala Skirata"]. He smiled as he looked upon the grenade before lifting it with his own telekinesis, flinging it violently out from the crowd before it could disseminate it's gases and effect the force users. It was fortunate for the gnulith attached to his suit, sealing him from the hazardous gas so often used by the protectorate and from what he could see, Mandos. Perhaps it would have a lingering impact upon those left unaware, perhaps it wouldn't - time would tell.
Turning his attention back to another oncoming warrior, he caught the swinging blade of an attacker before reversing the inertia of the swing the blade loosed itself grip, flinging into the back of a neck of an ally. The Mando warrior looked towards someone, one Gabriel could only assume was a friend, before looking upon the vonduun clad warmaster once more. But it was too late, as Gabriel had found his way behind the man, tightening grip locked beneath helmet and against struggling throat. Just then, he looked up to hear the words of that nuisance of a mando, exuding force powers. He held the man in his grip, left hand upon the top of the skull, as he looked towards [member="Kadala Skirata"]. "If he doesn't accept...you can fight me."
And just like that, the life left the mando as he dropped to the ground, spinal column no longer serving the purpose it once did with the contortion of the neck. What a fragile life, this mando had.
Objective: A skull serves no purpose once removed from the body
Allies: [member="Vrag"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Darth Valdra"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Rose Kuhn"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Valens"] | [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Enemies: [member="Azrael"] | [member="Orick T'ane"] | [member="Titan"] | [member="Solan Charr"] | [member="Kadala Skirata"]
Gear: Vonduun armor, Voxyn Arm, Chom-Huun, Roecnar, Yuuzhan vong toys (magma pebbles, plasma eel, Chitin Carbine)
The ship came to the landing the Wrath had expected, maneuvers evading attacks to rip a hole in the thing thought protected, smearing the world around it in red: two coats. The beasts, the monsters, the willing and loyal, would engage one another on the battlefield this day. For Gabriel, he sniffed at the air as the doors opened, a beast catching just the hint of fresh meat drifting softly overheard. For those so inclined to dive into his aura, they may find the gaping maw something akin to the last resistance against final temptation, just before the fall.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6K5kfhzFG9c
Guided footsteps began as a slow cadence, a gait resembling a nonchalant walk, as he descended the metal ramp. The organic suit exalted his presence, carrying him forward as he turned to a jog and then a sprint. The Mern Kane behind him, shells of chazrach overwhelmed by yorik coral, launched blast bugs at 35 beats per minute. A lovely tune. But one that didn't claim the attention of the wrath as his weapons remained unsheathed. The gattling rounds, resonating from the [member="Titan"], blast past him as he ducked, the ballistics clamoring against the armor of the Mern Kane and wielding damage equivalent to the early onset of anaphylaxis. Their allergic hives would provide means for discomfort, no longer gracing the necessity for thought. And Gabriel was so far removed from that now, engaging those who would claim the Resol'nare as something of a code. Even dead men have codes.A beskad cut the air and caught his lifted right forearm, the vonduun squealed and the warmaster laughed as he ducked, delivering an overpowered left handed punch to the armpit of some nameless warrior. Right hand pushed forward, grabbing the throat of the soldier, just below the beskargam helmet. A twist and a spin of the wrist, the soldier fell to the ground as the Wrath crushed the vocal cord between his voxyn fingers. Head snapping to the left, the right hand reached forward as he pushed in, catching the swinging left elbow of another attacker with a punch of his own. Doubling down, he grabbed the man by the bottom of his breast plate and the extension of his attacking arm. With a turn, he threw the figure screaming into a pile of Yuuzhan Vong, to be consumed by their hate and blood thirst. Just then, the clink of the force breaker grenade drew his attention for the briefest moments as he caught glimpse of the figure who threw it as she moved through the vong, [member="Kadala Skirata"]. He smiled as he looked upon the grenade before lifting it with his own telekinesis, flinging it violently out from the crowd before it could disseminate it's gases and effect the force users. It was fortunate for the gnulith attached to his suit, sealing him from the hazardous gas so often used by the protectorate and from what he could see, Mandos. Perhaps it would have a lingering impact upon those left unaware, perhaps it wouldn't - time would tell.
Turning his attention back to another oncoming warrior, he caught the swinging blade of an attacker before reversing the inertia of the swing the blade loosed itself grip, flinging into the back of a neck of an ally. The Mando warrior looked towards someone, one Gabriel could only assume was a friend, before looking upon the vonduun clad warmaster once more. But it was too late, as Gabriel had found his way behind the man, tightening grip locked beneath helmet and against struggling throat. Just then, he looked up to hear the words of that nuisance of a mando, exuding force powers. He held the man in his grip, left hand upon the top of the skull, as he looked towards [member="Kadala Skirata"]. "If he doesn't accept...you can fight me."
And just like that, the life left the mando as he dropped to the ground, spinal column no longer serving the purpose it once did with the contortion of the neck. What a fragile life, this mando had.
Lord Gaius
Chosen
{ Target: [member="Kadala Skirata"] }
"I request a duel, darjetti. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Do you accept?"
Sabik had seen the smoke leak out and escape the shattered canister, and he had retreated back. The further the smoke traveled, the further back he walked. By laws of nature, gas filled the chamber of its container, and soon the gas would be swept away by the winds. He barked orders and shouted for others to get back.
His eyes trained on the Mandalorian who challenged him, and as he spoke he was still backpedaling away from the gas. "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" His once icy blue eyes now burned a Sith orange, blood-red leaking into the white of his eyes. It was clear from the way he fluently spoke that he was once Mandalorian, but Sabik now saw himself, willingly, as dar'manda. He had laughed at his jest towards the woman.
Yet while he had abandoned his culture and people, honor was a universal concept, and even he could indulge. "Elek," he said in answer, "al, ne shab'rud'niÖ. There will be adenn a'den, and such aay'han." His hand curled tighter around the hilt of his blade, held in his left hand and in a reverse grip. He twisted his body and began to pace, the duel had commenced, and he wished for her to take the first strike.
"I request a duel, darjetti. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Do you accept?"
Sabik had seen the smoke leak out and escape the shattered canister, and he had retreated back. The further the smoke traveled, the further back he walked. By laws of nature, gas filled the chamber of its container, and soon the gas would be swept away by the winds. He barked orders and shouted for others to get back.
His eyes trained on the Mandalorian who challenged him, and as he spoke he was still backpedaling away from the gas. "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" His once icy blue eyes now burned a Sith orange, blood-red leaking into the white of his eyes. It was clear from the way he fluently spoke that he was once Mandalorian, but Sabik now saw himself, willingly, as dar'manda. He had laughed at his jest towards the woman.
Yet while he had abandoned his culture and people, honor was a universal concept, and even he could indulge. "Elek," he said in answer, "al, ne shab'rud'niÖ. There will be adenn a'den, and such aay'han." His hand curled tighter around the hilt of his blade, held in his left hand and in a reverse grip. He twisted his body and began to pace, the duel had commenced, and he wished for her to take the first strike.
Lord Gaius
Chosen
Double post - internet crashed
Well-Known Member
Location:Ground
Objective: Defend Mandalore
Enemies: [member="Vrag"], [member="Reverance"], [member="Darth Valdra"], [member="Darth Venefica"], [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Rose Kuhn"], [member="abraxas"], everyone OS.
Allies: [member="Titan"], [member="Solan Charr"]
GEAR
The message of the Mand'alor roused Bjarn from his meditation on the roof of his apartment building. Bjarn looked up and saw a dropship coming down and crash into a street nearby. Bjarn didn't spend much time gawking, he slipped down the staircase and into his apartment. He moved over to his armor stand, where his rented suit of Hyperion Advanced Combat Armor rested. A few moments later, he stepped out of the bottom door of the apartment building, fully loaded for bear. He moved swiftly and silently, thanks to the systems in the armor, down the street and around the corner. As he moved, he noted that the civilians in the city had vanished into whatever prepared defensive positions they had, leaving the street all but empty.
Bjarn turned another corner and came upon the scene of Abraxas approaching Titan and Solan Charr. He was behind the...entity, the scene of the crashed dropship on the other side of the street from Bjarn. There were vehicles upturned from the shockwave all along the near side of the street. Bjarn approached one silently as he unlimbered his SAW and set the bipod on the upturned edge of a vehicle. He angled himself so the vehicle was between himself and Abraxas, sighted down the rife carefully and let loose a pair of three round bursts of both .52 caliber slug rounds and blaster bolt at the creature.
Objective: Defend Mandalore
Enemies: [member="Vrag"], [member="Reverance"], [member="Darth Valdra"], [member="Darth Venefica"], [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Rose Kuhn"], [member="abraxas"], everyone OS.
Allies: [member="Titan"], [member="Solan Charr"]
GEAR
Hjalta and Hugur (Link in Sig)
Ares MK5 Battle Rifle
Hyperion Advanced Combat Armor
Hyperion Squad Automatic Weapon
Ares MK5 Battle Rifle
Hyperion Advanced Combat Armor
Hyperion Squad Automatic Weapon
The message of the Mand'alor roused Bjarn from his meditation on the roof of his apartment building. Bjarn looked up and saw a dropship coming down and crash into a street nearby. Bjarn didn't spend much time gawking, he slipped down the staircase and into his apartment. He moved over to his armor stand, where his rented suit of Hyperion Advanced Combat Armor rested. A few moments later, he stepped out of the bottom door of the apartment building, fully loaded for bear. He moved swiftly and silently, thanks to the systems in the armor, down the street and around the corner. As he moved, he noted that the civilians in the city had vanished into whatever prepared defensive positions they had, leaving the street all but empty.
Bjarn turned another corner and came upon the scene of Abraxas approaching Titan and Solan Charr. He was behind the...entity, the scene of the crashed dropship on the other side of the street from Bjarn. There were vehicles upturned from the shockwave all along the near side of the street. Bjarn approached one silently as he unlimbered his SAW and set the bipod on the upturned edge of a vehicle. He angled himself so the vehicle was between himself and Abraxas, sighted down the rife carefully and let loose a pair of three round bursts of both .52 caliber slug rounds and blaster bolt at the creature.
Darth Pyrrhus
Well-Known Member
Location: Keldabe streets
Allies: [member=Sage Bane], possibly [member=Darth Venefica]
Enemies: Mandalorians. Who wants some?
Gear:
Once more Sith Acolyte Tanek Santii was dropping into the danger zone together with Sage Bane. While Sage wasn't his Master, he had over time started to take on the role of a mentor. At least from Tanek's point of view, he was someone to look up to and learn from. The young Togruta had many thoughts on what it meant to be Sith, and so far the Knight filled every requirement.
Tanek had been quiet most of the time, not interrupting the light banter between Sage and Vrag. He had witnessed the Hand of the Dark Lord in action on Iridonia. His first impression did not portray her as a woman who appreciated jokes. Sage either enjoyed playing with fire, or he was closer to the Hand than he had first assumed.
The Sith Acolyte was geared up for the occasion, slightly more so than usual. The Sith had come well-equipped for this one. Almost his entire body was enveloped by the living Vong armour, Vonduun Skerr Kyrric. Tanek and Sage wore matching sets. By virtue of it being living armour, it had shaped perfectly to match the wearer. The helmet looked particularly menacing on him, as it accommodated his horns well. The lower region of his face was covered by a gnullith, a biotechnological breathing apparatus. More Vong tech. It was an uncomfortable fit, but it ensured he was breathing the right kind of air. Little of his red skin was shown. At his hip hung a lightsaber, the signature weapon of the Sith. He carried a ranged weapon, which in proper Vong style, was a chitin carbine. Three razor bugs had attached themselves to his hip, on the opposing side of his lightsaber. To complete the outfit, Tanek's very own pet, an amphistaff, coiled itself around his left arm, where it would rest until called upon. The once humble hunter from Shili was quickly being transformed into a Sith beast of war. His Master was sure to approve.
Their ship landed, and the Sith party began moving towards the nearby city. Naturally, Sage Bane who outranked Tanek took command. The Acolyte followed in step behind the Knight. Unless ordered to do otherwise, he would stay close, watch and learn. It wasn't the first time he'd stepped into battle with Sage, but for whatever reason, he felt particularly good about this one.
Allies: [member=Sage Bane], possibly [member=Darth Venefica]
Enemies: Mandalorians. Who wants some?
Gear:
Once more Sith Acolyte Tanek Santii was dropping into the danger zone together with Sage Bane. While Sage wasn't his Master, he had over time started to take on the role of a mentor. At least from Tanek's point of view, he was someone to look up to and learn from. The young Togruta had many thoughts on what it meant to be Sith, and so far the Knight filled every requirement.
Tanek had been quiet most of the time, not interrupting the light banter between Sage and Vrag. He had witnessed the Hand of the Dark Lord in action on Iridonia. His first impression did not portray her as a woman who appreciated jokes. Sage either enjoyed playing with fire, or he was closer to the Hand than he had first assumed.
The Sith Acolyte was geared up for the occasion, slightly more so than usual. The Sith had come well-equipped for this one. Almost his entire body was enveloped by the living Vong armour, Vonduun Skerr Kyrric. Tanek and Sage wore matching sets. By virtue of it being living armour, it had shaped perfectly to match the wearer. The helmet looked particularly menacing on him, as it accommodated his horns well. The lower region of his face was covered by a gnullith, a biotechnological breathing apparatus. More Vong tech. It was an uncomfortable fit, but it ensured he was breathing the right kind of air. Little of his red skin was shown. At his hip hung a lightsaber, the signature weapon of the Sith. He carried a ranged weapon, which in proper Vong style, was a chitin carbine. Three razor bugs had attached themselves to his hip, on the opposing side of his lightsaber. To complete the outfit, Tanek's very own pet, an amphistaff, coiled itself around his left arm, where it would rest until called upon. The once humble hunter from Shili was quickly being transformed into a Sith beast of war. His Master was sure to approve.
Their ship landed, and the Sith party began moving towards the nearby city. Naturally, Sage Bane who outranked Tanek took command. The Acolyte followed in step behind the Knight. Unless ordered to do otherwise, he would stay close, watch and learn. It wasn't the first time he'd stepped into battle with Sage, but for whatever reason, he felt particularly good about this one.
Via Dolorosa
Amans In Tenebris
Location: Keldabe streets
Objective: Letting Loose the hounds of WAR
Allies: [member="Sage Bane"] l [member="Tanek Santii"]
Enemies: Mandos With Funny Names
Gear: The Dagobah Curse
Objective: Letting Loose the hounds of WAR
Allies: [member="Sage Bane"] l [member="Tanek Santii"]
Enemies: Mandos With Funny Names
Gear: The Dagobah Curse
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itMd1_nxfzc[/youtube]
The dropship landed on the outskirts of Keldabe, the doors splitting apart releasing the Queen of Madness to come out and play. She had come to not only show the errors the Mandos have embraced but to kill the citizens, to enslave them, and if time permitted; to ship them off to be tested upon. The Mando citizens were her primary focus; as well as their offspring. Killing them was her flashing sign to the Mandos that she knew they were weak. Killing the citizens and their children was her proclamation to them that they were wounded and infected dogs that needed to be culled. Killing the citizens and their children was her way of showing the Mandos that her idea of fun rested upon their deaths. She was not a murderer, but a cold hearted queen!
The foreground music of citizens screaming and the heavy footfalls was sweet music to her ears. Let them run. she enjoyed the hunt. Let them scream for their protectors to save them, she enjoyed killing heroes. Let them hide, she enjoyed playing hide-n-seek. No matter where the citizens ran, their lives and fate rested in the palms of the Sith Lady.
Her ghastly body took up residence next to Sage Bane and Tanek Santii, the Darkisde and her hate feeding them as a mother feeds her children. She wanted them to siphon off her. A well fed child was a well cared for child; and she believed the duo had gone to long without proper nourishment. But today it wasn't about Mother and offspring; today they would be the triumvirate that saw the Mandos punished for their egotistic, self-appraised, and self-appointed claims that they were the mightiest warriors in the galaxy. Today they would put those claims to the test. Today they would show the truth to the galaxy; that Mandos were nothing more than puppets grasping tight to false beliefs.
"It is had been said that Mando children are taught that we Sith are monsters," she spoke with a strong conviction in her voice. "Then let us teach their children that their parents are not liars. Today.....we eradicate the next generation of Mando warriors."
Naimes Ahn-Dross
Character
Location: Keldabe; Street Level
Objective: Drive the Sith Witch back whence she came
Enemies: [member="Darth Venefica"] (Primary), [member="Tanek Santii"] (Possible), [member="Sage Bane"] (Possible)
Allies: Mandalorians
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Terentaktek Body Glove, Longtooth, Naat Nat'taylir Talisman (Linked in Bio), Kath Hound Shotgun
Objective: Drive the Sith Witch back whence she came
Enemies: [member="Darth Venefica"] (Primary), [member="Tanek Santii"] (Possible), [member="Sage Bane"] (Possible)
Allies: Mandalorians
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Terentaktek Body Glove, Longtooth, Naat Nat'taylir Talisman (Linked in Bio), Kath Hound Shotgun
...the rangefinder allowed Naimes to stay in the background as he watched the Sith forces exit the drop ship and floor the streets of Keldabe. Waiting, watching, he scanned the street level as warriors swarmed ahead of him and the common citizens fled in the opposite direction. Even in a culture so heavily steeped in combat as the Mandalorians there were noncombatants. Eventually Naimes would see them disembarking the drop ship, a trio, the rangefinder in his helm would zoom in on the three of them and then settle on the one that seemed most likely to command out of them. A small woman who radiated with power that could be seen as a distance. The Rangefinder would have reverted to regular optics after Naimes had zeroed in, all three of them were marked as foes on his hud utilizing the friend/foe designator, then he was away...
...the Rally Master worked his way through the streets, a group of Mandalorian Warriors accompanying him, the Kath Hound Shotgun found itself leveled ahead were it braced against his hip and cut a swath through the enemies that were in his wake. In streets as crowded as these the number of targets was almost unbelievable, a person could get lost in the swarm and trampled if they weren't careful, at least until the bodies started to thin. Mandalorian Warriors and Sith Warriors creating small combat zones all around them, the cries of combat ringing out over the din of blaster fire and the screams of the wounded, the crippled. It had to be horrifying for someone not used to it or someone who hadn't vaunted themselves on its creation....
...the bodies began to clear, the Rally Master interjected himself in the path of the trio where he proclaimed from beneath the cover of his helm..."A Demon disguised as a Woman."...his voice was calm, composed, considering everything happening around them..."Go back to the shadow."...he warned her, clearly. Gazing at her from beneath the cover of his helm Naimes let his attention divide so that it encompassed the two with Darth Venefica but the challenge was clearly made to her, whether she would accept or not was a completely different story altogether. The Kath Hound Shotgun lowered, Naimes gripped it by the stock in his left hand, then he would reach back over his right shoulder and take Longtooth, the hand and a half phrik blade from where it had been sheathed and extend it towards her. Outstretching his right arm, the hilt of the blade bracing back against his forearm, Naimes pointed the blade towards Venefica even as he drew on the Naat Naa'taylir Talisman and the clarity it bestowed upon him hidden beneath the Beskar'gam he wore...
...the Rally Master worked his way through the streets, a group of Mandalorian Warriors accompanying him, the Kath Hound Shotgun found itself leveled ahead were it braced against his hip and cut a swath through the enemies that were in his wake. In streets as crowded as these the number of targets was almost unbelievable, a person could get lost in the swarm and trampled if they weren't careful, at least until the bodies started to thin. Mandalorian Warriors and Sith Warriors creating small combat zones all around them, the cries of combat ringing out over the din of blaster fire and the screams of the wounded, the crippled. It had to be horrifying for someone not used to it or someone who hadn't vaunted themselves on its creation....
...the bodies began to clear, the Rally Master interjected himself in the path of the trio where he proclaimed from beneath the cover of his helm..."A Demon disguised as a Woman."...his voice was calm, composed, considering everything happening around them..."Go back to the shadow."...he warned her, clearly. Gazing at her from beneath the cover of his helm Naimes let his attention divide so that it encompassed the two with Darth Venefica but the challenge was clearly made to her, whether she would accept or not was a completely different story altogether. The Kath Hound Shotgun lowered, Naimes gripped it by the stock in his left hand, then he would reach back over his right shoulder and take Longtooth, the hand and a half phrik blade from where it had been sheathed and extend it towards her. Outstretching his right arm, the hilt of the blade bracing back against his forearm, Naimes pointed the blade towards Venefica even as he drew on the Naat Naa'taylir Talisman and the clarity it bestowed upon him hidden beneath the Beskar'gam he wore...
Azrael
RETIRED
Location: Keldabe, Mandalore
Objective: Exterminate the Infestation
Allies: The Mando'ade | [member="Kadala Skirata"]
Enemies: [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Reverance"] | Dar'jetti scum
Gear: Beskar'gam | Armory
[*]
Ysalamir in protective nutrient tube
It was the heartbeat of the warriors of metal, the very soul that their culture had erupted from all those thousands of years ago. Mandalore, not just a planet, but a home. Once the large and thunderous Mythosaurs roamed these plains with complete and unchallenged freedom until the conquest of the Taung. The beasts were hunted, bested in crude battle and stripped of their flesh, their skin, leaving only the hollow bones as grim reminders of this proud people. First a spirit, than a language, and furthermore a culture grew and blossomed from this force. Combat and conquest were the bread and ale of these stalwart warriors. For thousands of years they had spanned the Galaxy recruiting all who hungered for the glory of conflict, and pledged themselves with loyalty to a new inherited family. The vode rang strong, their voice heard and felt throughout the cosmos, answering the call of the Manda, and making this place their unchallenged stomping ground. The Mandalorians bathed in the blood of their enemies, drank in the fear of those that dare spurn their advance, and stomped the skulls of the unworthy beneath their besk'ar boots. These Dar'jetti loyalists had once allied with the Mandalorians; the force of the ages to dive into conquest. Perhaps the old ways of the Sith were more progressive and logical than that of this unified force of monsters and misfits. The Sith came for the Mandalorians, but not in alliance -- in defiance, and so would make the end of their great regime, for they had stirred the pot and now would pay the price.
Fires erupted in Keldabe proper setting the background a blaze - as war ships slid beneath the black of night and came to crash land if need be in order to touch Mandalorian soil. From the worlds that the Sith had already conquered in their alliance to this enigmatic and ever moving Dark Lord - they would not face one like as unto this. There were no children and mothers cowering in fear - no farmers and merchants that hid in terror. These were all Mandalorians, and every single one of them was a trained and ready fighter to defend their land and destroy the enemy. The Sith came with but a few, but the entire planet would converge on them and wipe them off the face of the Galactic map. They were already dead, they simply hadn't gotten the memo.
The whine of the railgun came into range as the charcoal and maroon plates of beskar'gam turned the corner. Two acolytes fell to the ground, from the alley just before he made his presence known. The laser sight shining like a thin strand of death to pin point it's mark between the very eyes of Gabriel. Steps were taken in paced concord, clipping upon the permacrete and taking a measured aim at the Sith Lord. The acolyte in his stead facing Azrael's own vod - a clansmen no less, and both seeming willing to challenge her stance. Mand'alor wouldn't have that, as he was itching to put down these vile attempts to even walk upon their sod. Unworthy and damned in his crimson visor's gaze, the half-blood drew closer and paused. Amplification of his voice rang out, addressing Gabriel specifically.
"You'll be too busy, aruetii." Despite whatever Kadala would say to the offer of a duel, Azrael was keeping the one eyed gaze of Gabriel fixed on him. "I don't recall inviting you to soil the streets of Keldabe with your spawn. Though I'll take your life as recompense for your error."
Objective: Exterminate the Infestation
Allies: The Mando'ade | [member="Kadala Skirata"]
Enemies: [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Reverance"] | Dar'jetti scum
Gear: Beskar'gam | Armory
Mark II Rippers
BOAR.D.
E'tad Kal
Grenades
Force breaker
Flash-bang
Sonic
[*]
Ysalamir in protective nutrient tube
It was the heartbeat of the warriors of metal, the very soul that their culture had erupted from all those thousands of years ago. Mandalore, not just a planet, but a home. Once the large and thunderous Mythosaurs roamed these plains with complete and unchallenged freedom until the conquest of the Taung. The beasts were hunted, bested in crude battle and stripped of their flesh, their skin, leaving only the hollow bones as grim reminders of this proud people. First a spirit, than a language, and furthermore a culture grew and blossomed from this force. Combat and conquest were the bread and ale of these stalwart warriors. For thousands of years they had spanned the Galaxy recruiting all who hungered for the glory of conflict, and pledged themselves with loyalty to a new inherited family. The vode rang strong, their voice heard and felt throughout the cosmos, answering the call of the Manda, and making this place their unchallenged stomping ground. The Mandalorians bathed in the blood of their enemies, drank in the fear of those that dare spurn their advance, and stomped the skulls of the unworthy beneath their besk'ar boots. These Dar'jetti loyalists had once allied with the Mandalorians; the force of the ages to dive into conquest. Perhaps the old ways of the Sith were more progressive and logical than that of this unified force of monsters and misfits. The Sith came for the Mandalorians, but not in alliance -- in defiance, and so would make the end of their great regime, for they had stirred the pot and now would pay the price.
Fires erupted in Keldabe proper setting the background a blaze - as war ships slid beneath the black of night and came to crash land if need be in order to touch Mandalorian soil. From the worlds that the Sith had already conquered in their alliance to this enigmatic and ever moving Dark Lord - they would not face one like as unto this. There were no children and mothers cowering in fear - no farmers and merchants that hid in terror. These were all Mandalorians, and every single one of them was a trained and ready fighter to defend their land and destroy the enemy. The Sith came with but a few, but the entire planet would converge on them and wipe them off the face of the Galactic map. They were already dead, they simply hadn't gotten the memo.
The whine of the railgun came into range as the charcoal and maroon plates of beskar'gam turned the corner. Two acolytes fell to the ground, from the alley just before he made his presence known. The laser sight shining like a thin strand of death to pin point it's mark between the very eyes of Gabriel. Steps were taken in paced concord, clipping upon the permacrete and taking a measured aim at the Sith Lord. The acolyte in his stead facing Azrael's own vod - a clansmen no less, and both seeming willing to challenge her stance. Mand'alor wouldn't have that, as he was itching to put down these vile attempts to even walk upon their sod. Unworthy and damned in his crimson visor's gaze, the half-blood drew closer and paused. Amplification of his voice rang out, addressing Gabriel specifically.
"You'll be too busy, aruetii." Despite whatever Kadala would say to the offer of a duel, Azrael was keeping the one eyed gaze of Gabriel fixed on him. "I don't recall inviting you to soil the streets of Keldabe with your spawn. Though I'll take your life as recompense for your error."
Darth Vaildra
A Man of Many Sins
[member="Emilia Marean"]
"Then it seems you are more foolish then I thought." His stance was the basic shaolin northern tiger style meaning he was prepared to attack fast , but with aggressive power. Valdra harnessed the Force to move molecules fast enough to create plasma and converge into to his right arm like a bracer with thick plasma. He then moved his right arm slightly to catch her staff with the plasma bracer and block it and then sent his left hand using Buddha's Palm to strike at her stomach.
Taking a step back, Buddha's palm was an ability that was meant to be a simple movement, but to channel the Force through your hand and release it with a surprising amount of concentrated power able to do more power than a normal punch. The down side was learning how to use and control it. If someone was not able to do it properly they could shatter the bones in their hand bad enough to permanently break it. The key was to use an open palm style, not a closed palm which also made the damage radius a bit bigger.
"Then it seems you are more foolish then I thought." His stance was the basic shaolin northern tiger style meaning he was prepared to attack fast , but with aggressive power. Valdra harnessed the Force to move molecules fast enough to create plasma and converge into to his right arm like a bracer with thick plasma. He then moved his right arm slightly to catch her staff with the plasma bracer and block it and then sent his left hand using Buddha's Palm to strike at her stomach.
Taking a step back, Buddha's palm was an ability that was meant to be a simple movement, but to channel the Force through your hand and release it with a surprising amount of concentrated power able to do more power than a normal punch. The down side was learning how to use and control it. If someone was not able to do it properly they could shatter the bones in their hand bad enough to permanently break it. The key was to use an open palm style, not a closed palm which also made the damage radius a bit bigger.
Nolan Detta
Retired
Location: Air
Objective: Give that Sith Girl a whoopin
Enemies: [member="Rose Kuhn"]
Allies: [member="Kraigmiir Hijiin"]
As Nolan neared the large Vod, the littler one climes around her like a spider monkey, attempting to hide from Nolan's attack. As soon as his Vod was completely visible, he ceased fire and switched to a secondary set of tools. Letting the rifle fall to its sling, Nolan reached out with the Force and Pulled his Vod away from the Sith girl.
Nolan fired the reverse thrusters on full and slowed enough to catch the larger Vod. "Pardon me miss" he fired the pack on full to lower the pair back to the ground.
With the Vod out of the way, he'd just find something else to use against the Sith. Maybe his rockets, or the flamethrower, or his Beskad, or his hands. The list went on.
Objective: Give that Sith Girl a whoopin
Enemies: [member="Rose Kuhn"]
Allies: [member="Kraigmiir Hijiin"]
As Nolan neared the large Vod, the littler one climes around her like a spider monkey, attempting to hide from Nolan's attack. As soon as his Vod was completely visible, he ceased fire and switched to a secondary set of tools. Letting the rifle fall to its sling, Nolan reached out with the Force and Pulled his Vod away from the Sith girl.
Nolan fired the reverse thrusters on full and slowed enough to catch the larger Vod. "Pardon me miss" he fired the pack on full to lower the pair back to the ground.
With the Vod out of the way, he'd just find something else to use against the Sith. Maybe his rockets, or the flamethrower, or his Beskad, or his hands. The list went on.
Vrag
The Second Seal, broken.
Location: The street > Side street
Objective: Kick freelancing butt, revel in the irony
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Darth Valdra"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Rose Kuhn"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Valens"] | [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Tanek Santii"]
Enemies: [member="Titan"] | [member="Solan Charr"]
Engaging directly: [member="Orick T'ane"]
Gear in bio
She lived in that space between two heartbeats, when so much and yet so little would happen; and for one so used to violence, that instant would be just a tad longer, almost making it seem like she glided through the throng of warriors amassing on all sides, a step ahead in her vor. It was, ultimately, efficiency that made her movements as fluid as they were, a whole-bodied coil of dark, reeling segments of Vonduun and flesh seemingly fused into a single entity of destruction.
And how pure and undiluted that destruction was! Had she found her passion in another art, there would have been fewer cooling cadavers left on the streets of Keldabe, but Vrag was a creature of violence, ironically unchained within the confines of that which she loved; insofar as people like her could feel fondness for anything, that is.
She would dance, then, ligaments and muscles and bone moving in a bloody unison so that every strike delivered was as deadly as could be, moving from body to body like a wraith that never lingered in one place too long. Bolts and slugs alike roared around her, above her, at her, but the woman was almost like a mirage inside the raging melée, slithering with ease through her natural habitat.
Almost.
Her next strike, aimed to cave in the fabled 'T' of a buy'ce, would never hit its mark — fortunately for the head inside that helmet — thrown off-course by a shot directly to her chestplate. Instead of sticking her clawed fingers through the weak transparisteel and scrambling the brain behind it, Vrag stumbled backward a step, reasserting her footing in that space of a heartbeat as the Vonduun flexed around her. It was angry.
The Hand snapped forward like a bent coil, breaking the arm of her opponent as she pulled him between herself and the source of the blaster bolt, adding a layer of beskar and squirming flesh to her protection. Flanked on the sides by Sith and Vong, the woman would fend off any would-be attackers with her skill in one-handed swordplay even as she advanced on the position of her enemy, licking her teeth in the low orange light of the skull.
Today, it seemed, Netherworld was empty…
Objective: Kick freelancing butt, revel in the irony
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Darth Valdra"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Rose Kuhn"] | [member="Drapeam Nyx"] | [member="Valens"] | [member="Sabik Dhami"] | [member="Tanek Santii"]
Enemies: [member="Titan"] | [member="Solan Charr"]
Engaging directly: [member="Orick T'ane"]
Gear in bio
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ejsM0VF-Os
There was something brutally poetic about dancing to the beat of boots against cracked duracrete, something cruelly beautiful to moving in the rhythm of the falling bodies. But it was her song, it was the melody that she would always seek out in he great cacophony of the Galaxy she called her home, and she would sing alone, even when hew tune was long broken and her instruments damaged beyond repair.She lived in that space between two heartbeats, when so much and yet so little would happen; and for one so used to violence, that instant would be just a tad longer, almost making it seem like she glided through the throng of warriors amassing on all sides, a step ahead in her vor. It was, ultimately, efficiency that made her movements as fluid as they were, a whole-bodied coil of dark, reeling segments of Vonduun and flesh seemingly fused into a single entity of destruction.
And how pure and undiluted that destruction was! Had she found her passion in another art, there would have been fewer cooling cadavers left on the streets of Keldabe, but Vrag was a creature of violence, ironically unchained within the confines of that which she loved; insofar as people like her could feel fondness for anything, that is.
She would dance, then, ligaments and muscles and bone moving in a bloody unison so that every strike delivered was as deadly as could be, moving from body to body like a wraith that never lingered in one place too long. Bolts and slugs alike roared around her, above her, at her, but the woman was almost like a mirage inside the raging melée, slithering with ease through her natural habitat.
Almost.
Her next strike, aimed to cave in the fabled 'T' of a buy'ce, would never hit its mark — fortunately for the head inside that helmet — thrown off-course by a shot directly to her chestplate. Instead of sticking her clawed fingers through the weak transparisteel and scrambling the brain behind it, Vrag stumbled backward a step, reasserting her footing in that space of a heartbeat as the Vonduun flexed around her. It was angry.
The Hand snapped forward like a bent coil, breaking the arm of her opponent as she pulled him between herself and the source of the blaster bolt, adding a layer of beskar and squirming flesh to her protection. Flanked on the sides by Sith and Vong, the woman would fend off any would-be attackers with her skill in one-handed swordplay even as she advanced on the position of her enemy, licking her teeth in the low orange light of the skull.
Today, it seemed, Netherworld was empty…
Orick T'ane
Troublemaker
Location: Keldabe, a dark alley with a beautiful stranger.
Objective: Don't think about how much of a mistake this was
Enemies: [member="Vrag"] [member="Rose Kuhn"] [member="Reverance"] @the One Sith big happy family.
Allies: [member="Azrael"] @Mando type folks and that weird guy sipping tea
Gear: In my Bio
There are times when, after you perform an action, you see the reaction and know that it was a mistake. This was one of those times...
Orick watched as the hit connected solidly with the Sith, and the result of that hit was as expected; she had faltered, but only for a moment. Now that rather large, and now angry, sith had decided that killing the helpless mandolorian in her hands was beneath her. Orick watches as she grabbed the man by the neck and hoisted him into the air in front of her. As impressive as the feat was, it made Orick even more wary of engaging this monster in a fight. Her advance was covered almost fully by the body she held before her, and Orick was hard pressed to find a clear shot at her.
How did he solve the problem without wasting ammo, even if he shot the armored man she wouldn't let go of the body, it was a shield regardless of the man's status. Sizing up his options, he decided that the best idea was to take advantage of the cover and keep firing as often as he could. An armored foe as large as her would present something eventually, he just had to provide the opportunity. " Ni liser va pabida a utreyar saca." echoed across the small alley, and the man being used as a shield reacted exactly as he planned. The openings weren't much better, but they were there, and he had to take what he could get. The struggling human shield became a hinderance as much as it was a shield and Orick managed to get a couple more shots off at the approaching foe, none of them were perfect and more than a few missed all together.
The sith approached slowly at a measured pace, her body language screaming murderous intent at him as she apprached. He wouldn't have much more time with the rifle at range, so he had to make the time count.
Objective: Don't think about how much of a mistake this was
Enemies: [member="Vrag"] [member="Rose Kuhn"] [member="Reverance"] @the One Sith big happy family.
Allies: [member="Azrael"] @Mando type folks and that weird guy sipping tea
Gear: In my Bio
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qsXVYM9n80
There are times when, after you perform an action, you see the reaction and know that it was a mistake. This was one of those times...
Orick watched as the hit connected solidly with the Sith, and the result of that hit was as expected; she had faltered, but only for a moment. Now that rather large, and now angry, sith had decided that killing the helpless mandolorian in her hands was beneath her. Orick watches as she grabbed the man by the neck and hoisted him into the air in front of her. As impressive as the feat was, it made Orick even more wary of engaging this monster in a fight. Her advance was covered almost fully by the body she held before her, and Orick was hard pressed to find a clear shot at her.
How did he solve the problem without wasting ammo, even if he shot the armored man she wouldn't let go of the body, it was a shield regardless of the man's status. Sizing up his options, he decided that the best idea was to take advantage of the cover and keep firing as often as he could. An armored foe as large as her would present something eventually, he just had to provide the opportunity. " Ni liser va pabida a utreyar saca." echoed across the small alley, and the man being used as a shield reacted exactly as he planned. The openings weren't much better, but they were there, and he had to take what he could get. The struggling human shield became a hinderance as much as it was a shield and Orick managed to get a couple more shots off at the approaching foe, none of them were perfect and more than a few missed all together.
The sith approached slowly at a measured pace, her body language screaming murderous intent at him as she apprached. He wouldn't have much more time with the rifle at range, so he had to make the time count.