Dominion Winter is Coming: AC Dominion of Pho Ph’eah [ Scars of Tython ]

[Count Tarsus]

TAGS: Pietro Demici & Marcella Fiora

The Bogan. Such a cruel name to give to such a hostile power. The shadowy tendrils of the monstrous Bogan had somehow wrapped around the very core of this planet, and its malice was now threatening to snuff out all life on it. The Cardinal was now calling out to the others to feel the darkness, and Tarsus was following orders. Stretching out with his mastery of the Ashla, Tarsus could easily feel the very dark power that was now gripping the world itself. The people living here would never be able to fight against such a force, and it was good the Crusade had come here. Without us, they wouldn't survive against such a power.

Chants of light and power were increasing in the room, and Tarsus was no different. As an Archbeacon, he was high up in the clergy itself, and the power of Ashla resounded in him strongly. He would need to push against this shadowy power, and push the Bogan's influence from this world. As Tarsus reached out, more and more darkness from the Bogan began to creep inside his own mind. Doubt, guilt, depression, all emotions the cruel Bogan could use against one was at play here. The very shadow that was corrupting the planet was here now, attempting to weasel it's way into the minds of the clergy.

The chanting and choir-like voice of the clergy was still going strong, though Tarsus could feel glimpses of horrors beyond comprehension. The twisted creatures that could be brought forward from the very darkness were flashing through his mind incredibly quickly, though Tarsus continued to hold on. His prayers were starting to rise stronger and stronger, his chants becoming more deep in their tone. He would never let the Bogan curse him like this, no matter what they brought forward.

Some of the clergymen began to falter just a bit, the darkness brought forward probably being their first taste of the malice from the Bogan itself. Tarsus, resolute in his strength, called out to those around that were starting to bend.

"Stand tall, my fellow friends. Anchor yourself to the Cardinal. Heed his words, and together, we can fight back against these horrors!" Tarsus' eyes were still shut tightly as he pushed against the horrors, his voice rising with more prayer and more power. The Bogan would fail today, Tarsus was sure of it.

Right?

​

 

[Marcella Fiora]

S I S T E R⠀ M A R I A N A
OBJECTIVE: Below Zero; Join the Cardinal in Prayer
TAGS: Pietro Demici , Count Tarsus & Open!

'Lux Et Origo Credo'​

Unnerving. As a comparably inexperienced priestess of the Papacy, the experience of their collective ceremony was both new and disconcerting; prayers to Ashla were different when not pinned under the stress of blaster-fire~ they felt more real. Unable to reach

the extent of seeing visions, such ability was out of reach for Sister Mariana, as unlike many of her counterparts~ she was no space wizard, though she still felt something was off.. perhaps the very thing that unsettled her so.

Though that mattered little~ Mariana powered through her feelings of unrest even though a few of her fellow clergy members began to falter; presumably as their connection with the Bogan became too intense, to which extent Mariana was appeased with not being afflicted with the 'gift' of the force. As they delved further into their prayers, she began to feel 'off', the atmosphere of the room slowly grew more unsettling through no fault of the clergy. She couldn't help but shiver as a creeping chill ran down her spine.

Now mildly shaken, Sister Mariana felt the need to diverge from their collective chant; at least for a brief respite from the current happenings, it was unnatural. The comments from both the Cardinal and the Archbeacon at the back helped to a small extent, though not massively. Still grasping her rosary between her hands, she calmly descended to a kneeling position to detach herself from the chanting before mumbling her own prayer to Ashla in an effort to collect herself:

"O' come, let us hasten his end,
for he will not succeed.
He made the land of the wicked,
and the corrupt shall be broken.

For you will answer her;
the end of the shadow of death.
The salvation of our salvation,
I say to my acquaintances;
my soul remains true."

​

 

[Aleem Qel Droma]

TAG: Heinrich Faust

Aleem dove and then made for another surface beyond the red seeweed, parts of it latching on to his legs and boots as he kicked. He rose up, breaking glass surface of water and took a breath. He heard steps in the cavern, and decided to investigate. Removing himself from water he ignited his golden saber blade and began searching, the sound of steps growing fainter. So he followed, first markimg cave wall with his blade, making shapes as it crackled to help him find it again. Aleem followed the sound of footsteps into the dark.

 

[Pope]

Careful with every step, his green skin illuminated in an amber hue by the blade of his lightsaber pike, Pope ventured further into the darkness of the cave. Static rang through his left ear as bits of information came fumbling through his comms. If he were to guess from the jumbled communication, it seemed the Crusade had finally sent their first wave into the cave. This would only commit Pope to pushing himself closer and closer to the source of the Bogan now that he knew allies of the Ashla would soon be behind him.

Pope kept close to the wall of the cave system, careful to avoid any slippery ledge the might suddenly appear. The hue of his blade revealed some sort of scratching upon the icy walls. Pope reached out with his hand and within the force to try and discern what or who could have made these markings. What naturally came easy to the Mirialan, now seemed impossible with the weight of Bogan radiating from this cave.

Frustrated with his inability, Pope found himself examining the markings closer. He knelt close to the wall, using his pike to hold him steady on the snowy floor. His eyes wandered closer and closer to the floor before spotting something out of the corner of his eye. Acting as a torch, he held his blade right above the floor, showing what seemed to be a print of a boot.

Quickly to his feet, he followed the partial prints with his eyes down the same path he was heading. Surely he had a sizable amount of time ahead of the Crusade. He wondered if this was Bogan playing tricks within his mind, yet it was still thrilling to realize he might not be alone down here.

Pushing forward at a more brisk pace, the Juror set his mind to finding who was here before him, whether it be a sentient being or a trick of the darkness. Pope found himself whistling to call out into the cave, to make whatever was ahead of him aware of his presence. Unsurprisingly, the Juror enjoyed the hunt, the chance to snuff out the Bogan at the source. Ashla was guiding the Mirialan and surely it would prevail on this day.

 

[Heinrich Faust]

Heinrich Faust: Grand Marshal of the Ashlan Crusade

Tags: Aleem Qel Droma

The cavern passage continued downward, leading the Grand Marshal deeper into the dark depths of Pho Ph'eah. The warmth of his lightsaber offered some comfort, but it was mostly faith that kept the Crusader warm within the icy cold. His hands ran along the frozen wall of the cave as he reached out, attempting to find a sign of a destination... or perhaps some answers...

As he reached through the empyrean, a familiar energy crept into his mind, signaling that he wasn't alone down here. His eyes shot toward another fork in the cavern, his lightsaber extended forth as if it were a torch. The footsteps in the distance were quiet, perhaps placing the person too far to hear him. Nevertheless, he would attempt to call out to the person, hoping to maybe find a familiar face within the darkness.

"Aleem! Can you hear me? Follow my voice!"

He continued to press onward, searching for a sign of the Postulant. Perhaps together, they could find their way through this. But first, they would have to find the source of the frost, and attempt to put an end to whatever malady had befallen the planet. One step at a time, he would tell himself. There were many mysteries to be unraveled, but so long as they remained diligent, Heinrich felt confident that they would succeed in their endeavors...

But first, they needed to regroup.

He anxiously awaited for their comms to get back online. Though his confidence in the Sons of Ession was unwavering, they were working with little time, for time was something that Pho Ph'eah had little of indeed. Until then, he would continue to march into the great depths of the planet, one step at a time...

 

[Pietro Demici]

Tags: Marcella Fiora , Count Tarsus

Darkness... the sheer weight of it could be felt upon the shoulders of those in prayer. Several of those present began to show signs of faltering, though the Archbeacon's words helped to bolster some of their strength. Pietro maintained his full concentration, searching out the source of this evil blight. Though he was quite talented in the ways of the Force, even the Cardinal could feel the strain caused by the overwhelming wave of lingering terror. Visions of past, present, and future continued to flood his mind, and these visions were far from pleasant. His mind wandered, drifting further into the vast unknown, yet... his will remained resolute.

Searching the void for answers was never going to be easy, and Pietro knew it. Bringing so many people of Ashla so close to such blackened horror was never going to be safe, but nevertheless, he knew that it had to be done. The planet needed them, and he would not rest until they found a way to tear this evil asunder.

Slowly, a strange feeling began to sweep across the Cardinal's mind. It was as if the tide of terror was being steered toward them...

Something was seeking to break their will...

Something ancient...

Something unknowable...

He gathered his wits all the more, calling out to Ashla as sweat dripped from his brow, his mind fully devoted to the task as hand.

"Ashla will prevail! This darkness will not stand!"

A hint of golden light began to emanate from the Cardinal as he spoke, flowing forth from him as he called out once more.

"It cannot stand!"

His mind reached out to the others, linking his power to theirs as he continued to beat back the shadowy machinations of whatever entity was pulling the strings. Things were looking grim, but the night is always darkest before the dawn...

 

[Mairéad Solus]

Location: Near a frozen cave complex
Objective: Investigate the force anomaly
Tags: Pope

Spoiler: Equipment:

Velmorite bladed lightsabers
Knife on ankle
Ladies Watch
FDS-4F blaster pistol
Marzanna
Speeder bike
Outfit pictured woven in Kaldrweave
Datapad

As the witch crept across the Ice crystals, she finally came to the edge of the river as it sluggishly moved through the cave. She needed to cross it, she wasnt sure why but was following the force. Mairéad held out her bare hand above the partially frozen water and concentrated. The power came to her more easily than she had ever experienced, it was almost frightening to her how easily she connected with the darkness of this place and used its power. The water creaked and groaned as the layer of ice rapidly thickened, the new layers spread out in front of her until there was a passage thick enough for her to walk across to the other side. As she finished she flicked the frost off of her hand and smiled, enjoying the rush of power. Any force sensitives nearby would be able to sense her easily now.

Mairéad was barely half way across the frozen pathway when she heard a whistle. There were many whistles in this cave but this one held a note and a tune that spoke of a sentient. Was someone following her? She doubled the pace and got to the island, ducking down behind some large ice formations on the other side to allow her to observe whoever it was that was following her. Her torch would immediately give away her position to whoever was following, but it was too dark down here without it. At least where she was she had cover if the person following her proved to be hostile.

Mairéad put away her light saber and reached round behind her to pull out her Family side-arm, the sense of belonging was pleasant to her as she thumbed the safety off and readied herself for the approach of Pope .

 

[Elysium Dusk]

Beleiver​

Tags: Open

---

Ever so slightly her head tilted up looking at one of the snipers trained on her and then as the force began to flow through her movements began to speed. Like a bullet she took off for the door and as soon as she did blaster fire began to rain down on her from all side of the alleyway. She bolted for the door, and she got closer she leapt into the air her left knee came up and slammed into he door. The force aiding her speed and strength the door easily buckled and flew inwards. It flew across the small room as the residents inside scattered to the other walls.


Warm air hit cold air and steam obscured the visions of the residents who were all wearing yellow robes. Moments before the door came across the room had been gathered around alter chanting to some Unspeakable horror. On the Alter was the remains of a sacrifice to the who name should not be spoken. The maddness ran deep in the souls of the men in the yellow robes and the yellow taint could be seen in their eyes. The ones in yellowed robes had scarred faces, yellowed eyes, and rotted teeth. There flesh had become greyish and harden like bandha hide. They smelled horrible like worms and dead fish.


As the steam fade in the door stood Elysium her swords now drawn and behind the sniper had scrambled down to the streets were forming lines behind her to attempt to take her out. They paused though not wanting to fire into the build to kill the yellow robed cultist. Elysiums eyed the men in yellow for just a moment.


"I have come by the call Ashla to bring judgement upon of those who worship the festering wound the Yellow God." Her voice was cold and stern as she spoke to those in yellow robes and there soldiers outside with blasters trained on her. "Forsake your god renounce him, embrace Ashla's light and your mercy will be life. If do not your mercy will be death and the damnation of your soul."


The men in yellowed robes looked at her with incredulous and their initial shock wore away as they realized this was just one woman. Then they began to openly began to laugh at her and mock her like she was some joke. She stared at them through her googles and spoke the last of her words. "So be it, your deaths will be swift."

 

[Jegy Sesara]

"O' come, let us hasten his end,
for he will not succeed.
He made the land of the wicked,
and the corrupt shall be broken.

For you will answer her;
the end of the shadow of death.
The salvation of our salvation,
I say to my acquaintances;
my soul remains true."


"Bogan has claimed lives of many he had sought,
through his power, he had succeeded.
In the Darkness of those that fell,
never forget that the Light is not far.

Ashla has sought the redemption,
of the warriors Bogan had corrupted.
In the salvation of those that try,
these warriors will be turned back towards Ashla.

Ashlas Light will always guide,
those that will keep true of their soul.
Your prayer will not be unanswered,
for I am Ashlas Sword."​

The words repeated back towards Marcella Fiora were quiet, as if right in front of her. If she glanced to look upwards, a shimmering blue form was before her, wearing of robes considered that of a bygone era. The blue figure was kneeled before her, his hands wrapped around what appeared to be an aged staff that shimmered with him with his head looking downwards. The robes were of ones considered of a Jedi Knight, grayish on the look with the blue shimmer all around them. The staff had almost no figurehead, no explanation for what it was to be used for. Slowly, the head of the Sullustan would glance upwards in a somber look, aged and tired but with mouth gave a gentle smile, his words were of a bit of grit but was of a kind gentlemen.

"I been sent from Ashla,
to be a humble Guardian
For now I am here,
no evil shall come through here."​

Slowly the Sullustan would lift his staff and let it slam into the ground with a loud clang noise. The sound would resonate through the halls as it would change slowly from a gonging noise to the sound of a harp. The harp noises would sound as if it was plucked, gently and played with ease, through expert hands from time forgotten. Each noise would be soothing, calming to those around it as the sounds slowly kept bouncing around the chamber, playing as if there was never no true end. The song played was from the Sullustans own memory, his own way to use the Force Power Inspire. Those that had the chamber filled with Bogans wrath would soon feel it fading away, as if its own clutches were slowly being wrenched off from their own fingers.

Every now and then, a loud plucking noise from the harp could be heard with a soft shriek that would soon dissipate in a small cloud of black smoke. The Sullustan himself, was not only focusing on keeping those filled with Hope, he was also eliminating any influence that was coming towards him. Those gifted in the Force could see strands of light dancing around the ceiling of the room, bouncing gently off each corner it hit and when it struck against a spirit of Bogan, it simply started to vanish. It was Force Light of some variation, tied towards those of the Waves of Darkness, it apparently became the Waves of Light.

The Sullustan never once looked up, his abilities while grand, took a massive toll on him. He rarely showed himself any longer, though the call was unforgivable to ignore. Any others that looked towards him could feel the strain, the toll of using so much power in a single moment. He could not look up, make any motion except concentrate in a kneeling stance, like that of a knight before the Priestess, to keep this song going, this hope that finally swelled in every prayers heart.

Tags: Pietro Demici Marcella Fiora Count Tarsus

 

[Count Tarsus]

TAGS: Pietro Demici & Marcella Fiora & Jegy Sesara

The strength in Ashla was very apparent now, with power seeping out of every vessel that was here. Tarsus could feel the warmth and strength bleeding into the dark heart of the Bogan, and the dark spirits that tried to manifest were being pushed back wave after wave.

Could they truly fight back this easily? Was this all the Bogan had to muster? The deep, hatred that the Bogan shadows could bring had been known to topple powerful men in the past. Could Ashla's light be this powerful now, to push the Bogan back with such ease?

Tarsus watched as the Sullustan ghost forced the shadows back, its harp making Tarsus feel both joy and comfort. But how long would it last against such dark energy? Something so sinister that it froze the very core of this planet?

Concentrating on radiating as much power as he could, Tarsus pushed deep into his mind, and recalled the great memories of his greatest explorations. His closest friends and the family he was lucky to call. These powerful thoughts would arm him against the Bogan, and he too began to radiate a strong light.

Would it be enough to push back the darkness? Tarsus was unsure, but he would not fall without a fight. His inner strength came from the destruction of shadow, and his purity would do well here.

"Ashla protects!"

​

 

[Heinrich Faust]

Heinrich Faust: Grand Marshal of the Ashlan Crusade

Tags: Aleem Qel Droma

The darkness continued on as Heinrich kept calling out to the young Postulant. The cavern was a twisting labyrinth of tunnels, leaving the Grand Marshal with only the will of Ashla to guide him through the cold halls. His lightsaber remained in front of him at all times, providing the only source of light within the cave.

As he progressed through the treacherous caverns, Heinrich felt another presence nearby. He didn't recognize the signature, but the growing, pulsating presence of the Bogan told him enough. Whoever it was... they had to go.

The cavern tunnel gave way to a large chamber, lit with several dim lights and crawling with the Bogan's stench. In the center of the room knelt a man in dark robes, his posture akin to a person in prayer. Heinrich couldn't make out the man's words, but with each passing moment another wave of darkness permeated the room. The Grand Marshal readied his blade as he slowly approached the man, keeping his guard up as he did so.

"Tell me, crusader... do you hear the whispers? Do you feel their undeniable presence within the deep corners of your soul?"

The stranger slowly stood as he spoke, his face hidden within the shadows of the robe of his hood.

"I hear no call other than that of Ashla's Light. I will give you one chance... allow me to take you before the Holy Jury, and perhaps they will see fit to grant you mercy."

It wasn't much of a promise, for if this man was as lost to the Bogan as he seemed, then there would be little hope for such clemency from the Jury. That being said, Heinrich wasn't one to deny someone the option, no matter how lost they may be.

The stranger replied with little more than a chuckle, his hands pulling back the hood to reveal a pale, gaunt face. Heinrich attempted to get a read on the man, but his eyes... his souless, black eyes... they gave the Grand Marshal nothing. Was he even human anymore?

"It's too late... the die has been cast, and soon all will know of the call of the Three..."

His arms stretched forth, the man's blackened gaze drifting toward the surface above.

"Pho Ph'eah will simply be the first to fall..."

The blasphemous prayer began again, sending waves of darkness cascading forth from the dread presence of the strange man. Heinrich acted swiftly, lunging forward to the man as his blade lashed out. There was little reaction from the man as the blade pierced his chest, his blank eyes staring straight into Heinrich's as the life slowly left him.

"Nilgh'ri... ephaimggoka'ai... ainah..."

His body slumped to the floor, and finally the darkness began to dissipate. Heinrich felt that perhaps this would be the end of the fight for Pho Ph'eah, but the last words of the stranger echoed in his mind, leaving the Grand Marshal with the faintest sense of dread. The smallest hint of something to come... not more than a whisper...

 

[Pietro Demici]

Tags: Marcella Fiora , Count Tarsus , Jegy Sesara

Their prayers continued, bolstered by the sudden appearance of the ghost of the dead Jegy. His presence was an unexpected one to the Cardinal, but a welcome one. The music of his own power drifted across the room, filling the hearts of those around him with a renewed sense of hope. Pietro himself could feel the power of Ashla's light swelling within him, and soon his own light began to pour forth as bright as the sun. The others also began emanating their own glorious light, filling the room with their golden glow as the prayers continued.

Through it all, the Cardinal could feel the sensation of another presence attempting to bend the darkness to their will, doing all they could to create resistance to the Crusade. Then... suddenly... a shift in the empyrean occurred. The mysterious Force signature was snuffed out, its essence cleansed from the planet in a single moment. The darkness now no longer had the puppeteers pulling the strings, and soon all gave way to the combined efforts of those in the room.

Eventually, the darkness passed, and Pietro snapped back to the present moment, leaning against a pillar as he took a deep breath.

"We did it..."

A few more deep breaths followed as Pietro gathered himself, eventually straightening up and returning to his usual demeanor. Raising his hands once again, he called out to the others.

"We did it, my brethren! Ashla has led us to victory once again!"

There would be work to do before the planet could be fully healed, but the Prime Minister would see to that. For now, their efforts would no longer be hindered by the machinations of the Bogan. The planet remained cold, but it wouldn't be so for long. Until then, Pietro simply wondered what this dark presence was, but that would be a mystery for another day...

For now... the planet was safe, and Pietro thanked Ashla for granting them with the strength to see it done.