The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 8, 2017 16:39:44 GMT -8
Banned for not banning someone.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 5, 2017 12:28:04 GMT -8
Banned for jumping to conclusions.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 5, 2017 10:48:18 GMT -8
Banned for pacifism.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 4, 2017 22:37:17 GMT -8
Banned for several crimes against the Galactic Republic, the First Order, and common morality.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 4, 2017 20:57:38 GMT -8
Until they know you're coming.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Oct 4, 2017 20:19:03 GMT -8
Sounds like an invasion. Booyah.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jul 8, 2017 14:35:01 GMT -8
All went still. All went silent.
The roaring of the metaphysical tidal wave stopped in an instant as the shepherd's raw, furious psychic power was quelled. The imagined screams of his dying student fell as quiet as the grave she was destined for. The shepherd hesitated for a moment, lost in his confusion. What had happened? What had she done? Why did the chorus of the Force - singing so loudly and fiercely just an instant before - vanish into the ether, their last notes hanging on the breeze? And though the instant hung in the air for what felt like hours, the shepherd only grew to realize in that instant just how quiet and just how still the courtyard had suddenly become. He couldn't hear anything. He couldn't feel anything. He couldn't smell anything. The Force itself seemed to have fled from this holy place, and all that existed in the agonizingly long moment was his former student, collapsed in a heap on the cold stone floor. Which itself should not have been at all possible; he still had her in his grip, his iron focus as unrelenting as it had ever been.
In the next instant, the world slowly started to come back into focus. His nose, previously unable to catch even the scent of his own sweat, grew attuned to the smell of burning clothes and burning flesh. His body, cut off from all physical sensation just a moment before, became aware of a growing, searing pain in his chest. His ears, deafened at first by the voices of the Force and their sudden silence thereafter, picked up the all-too familiar hum of a lightsaber. And his eyes, previously focused on Na'an, glanced downward, only to be greeted by a marred durasteel lightsaber and about ten centimeters of its brilliant blue blade.
The Zabrak gritted his teeth as he fought for breath, his yellowed eyes turning once more to face Na'an as a frustrated scream was muted into a grisly rattle. His right hand, still clutching at an invisible throat he could no longer touch and commanding a force that would no longer listen, grasped now for anything that would stop his backwards fall. The Jedi Master's eyes turned upward, toward the vine-covered walls of the courtyard, to the dark, star-lined abyss of space, coming finally to rest on the massive red gas giant that dominated the Praxeum sky.
Rutil Iorek fell still. Rutil Iorek fell silent.
One agonizingly long moment later, Rutil Iorek fell into eternity.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on May 28, 2017 12:34:06 GMT -8
The Force sang to the shepherd of his wayward student's intent. He felt his lightsaber - so long by his side that it may as well have truly been a part of him - cry out as the misguided child sought to destroy it. He felt the grim determination of his former apprentice, readying herself to destroy a symbol of peace and justice with more fervent dedication than he'd ever seen from her. The shepherd had tolerated her several insults, albeit barely. But this would not be allowed to stand. This would never be allowed to stand.
With a primal howl, the shepherd called upon the Force. The energy field that permeated the Praxeum found itself crashing down on Na'an's throat like a tidal wave. There would be no more demonstrations. No more entreaties or appeals to reason. No more threats.
Vidalu Na'an had earned the quick, violent death she had been asking for since she landed.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Apr 28, 2017 8:26:14 GMT -8
His feet should have felt the hard impact of the stone floor. His yellowed eyes should have had a clean line of sight on Na'an's back, and his blue lightsaber should have found a direct path across the heretic's spine. But the Force - which until now had heeded his beck and call like a trained animal - betrayed him. Just as the shepherd should have landed, the ethereal beast bucked against its master and threw him to the side, launching the Zabrak across the courtyard. His feet felt only air. His eyes saw only the massive red gas giant that the Praxeum orbited.
Using what little momentum his landing had left him, the shepherd rolled sideways and pushed himself into a crouch, catching his breath. Once more, the old master's hateful eyes locked onto his prodigal apprentice, the Force's voice growing into another crescendo as he thought of all the small, agonizing cuts he would make to her body before mercifully joining Na'an's voice to the chorus. With a snarl, the shepherd clenched both of his fists. But as his right hand tightened, he heard the voices crash to a halt and the focus he'd so furiously built up zero in on a very different, very dangerous train of thought.
The shepherd should not have been taken off guard. The shepherd should not have underestimated Na'an, either. But those were problems that a warrior of his caliber could work around. What could not be tolerated, however, was the fact that his hands were empty.
An uncharacteristic flash of panic - however quickly it was suppressed - crashed into the Zabrak Jedi like a wave as he spotted the marred durasteel hilt of his weapon out of the corner of his eye.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Mar 14, 2017 13:33:44 GMT -8
In the back of his ravaged mind, the shepherd could hear another beast utter a territorial growl as it approached. Curling around Na'an almost defensively, the Force held her body, strengthening and soothing it as the monster prepared to strike its prey's exposed back. It had sped her up. It had sharpened her senses. A whip-like tentacle snaked out and ripped her weapon from the burning heap that had buried it, racing past the Zabrak's eyes almost too fast for even him to see. At last, at her end, the girl was reaching her potential. At last, the Force was with her.
But that did not mean it was not still with its true champion.
As Na'an sprang, the yellow-eyed Zabrak rocketed upward, curling into a backflip several meters above his wayward apprentice. His burning eyes locked onto his apprentice as he began his descent, ready to call the Force to his aid once more.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Feb 23, 2017 14:26:47 GMT -8
The voices of many in his flock sang out as they joined in the Force. Some had joined the chorus immediately and forcefully, their commitment to the shepherd's cause sealed. Others were not as devoted, their ethereal voices whispering in the background as their mortal forms clung to life. But their desperation and their realization of what was to come gave their shepherd a different kind of strength; the same kind of strength that slaying Sith on Kashyyyk had given him, and the same kind of determination he'd felt when he cast the Sith and their ilk into the fires of the forest world. Soon enough, those that clung to life would realize their error and relinquish it, going on to serve the shepherd from beyond and aid him in his holy war.
The Force stopped its singing to screech out a warning as Na'an's lightsaber flew towards her hand. With a growl that seemed to come from hell itself, the Zabrak warrior leaped upward and swung his blue blade down. The blade that would reach her hand would mean nothing if said hand had no head to guide it.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Feb 15, 2017 17:42:59 GMT -8
BOOBIES!
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Feb 9, 2017 13:56:27 GMT -8
The chorus of the Force reached a fever pitch as Na'an hobbled away, washing over the shepherd like a mighty waterfall. The old Zabrak could feel its energy pour out of his old student's failing body, its raw essence easing the aches and soreness of combat as it flowed into him. It cooled his skin, soothing it from the flames he'd walked through. It filled his lungs, replacing the arid, scorched air that surrounded him. It raced through his veins in place of his own blood. In this moment, the Force and the shepherd were truly one, unified in a way few others had ever known, its purpose personified in its most ardent servant.
And in the space of a heartbeat, it was gone.
The magnificent, heavenly voices were silenced, replaced by the hum of his lightsaber and the crackling of melting stone. The waterfall evaporated, leaving only the hot, humid air to touch his leathery skin. The gentle, nourishing flow was also gone, leaving in its place a pounding pulse and a rapidly-setting exhaustion as the Zabrak felt blood in his body once more. Something had gone wrong. The Force had not abandoned the shepherd, he knew that much. He could still hear it calling out to him. He still felt its power at his fingertips. But the holy union that had been reached had been disrupted. Across the courtyard, the shepherd saw Na'an stumble to a standing position, turning to face her coming demise. But there was no trembling. No shakiness. No fear. In her continuing defiance, the Force was out of balance. In order for their union to be whole once more, Na'an's blasphemy had to be ended. Finally. Violently.
With a growl, the shepherd picked up his lightsaber and raced towards Na'an, his sulfuric yellow eyes burning with hatred for her.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Feb 3, 2017 10:41:37 GMT -8
The flames were ripped apart by unseen hands as the shepherd stepped through them, the blue blade of his lightsaber casting only the faintest of lights on his otherwise ominous silhouette. With each slow step forward, the Zabrak left a small cloud of ash in his wake. A flick of his lightsaber cut down the only limb that dared stand in his way, sending the burning branch skittering across the courtyard.
The Force sang. As the fallen pupil edged away from him, the Zabrak Jedi Master could hear the Force's melody sing in his ears, calling for its magnificent will to be done. It sang with each drop of the traitor's blood that fell to the ground. It sang with each labored breath the dark side's acolyte forced into her body to take. Of course, the Force had been singing ever since the shepherd had crossed blades with the wretch trying to escape him yet again, but now its song had reached a fever-pitched crescendo; the bridge before the final chorus. Its melody was the sweetest that the shepherd had ever heard, and he wondered to himself how he might convince the Force to sing even a moment longer.
With a thought, the shepherd tore another patch of flame from his path, and only ashen branches stood before him and his wayward apprentice. The voices of the Force harmonized once more as the Zabrak traced the tip of his lightsaber across the courtyard's stone floor.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 26, 2017 10:46:51 GMT -8
The Gran and Bothan dove to their left, ceasing fire and scrambling for cover among the ramshackle stacks. Still delirious from the book that he blocked with his face, the Human cultist looked up just in time to see the can bounce off of the stone floor and roll to a stop right next to him. It didn't matter that the silver thing identified itself as some off-brand energy supplement. Between the voice calling out about a grenade and the silver metal cylinder in front of his face, the Human knew what he had to do. Scrambling, the scarred cultist rolled himself over and covered the can with his armored body, screaming in defiance as he waited for the explosive death that the drink - now with four different kinds of stimulants - would not bring.
Unlike his three compatriots, however, the Trandoshan acolyte was neither inexperienced nor foolish. Prior to his indoctrination he'd been a bounty hunter, and a rather good one at that. When the shepherd had called the galaxy to action, the massive reptilian man had something he'd long asked for; a chance to use his vicious talents for true good, rather than the highest bidder. Nevertheless, his dirty trade had imparted upon him several skills. Staring down sights for almost three decades had allowed the Trandoshan cultist to identify a target with a glance. Tactical training and group hunts let the lizard know that the only reason you'd announce a grenade pull was to warn your allies, of which the interloper in the archives had none. And years of hunting the galaxy's most wanted had given him the greatest gift of all; a head cool enough to put it all together, and roll forward rather than behind. When the can finally landed, his three compatriots were either in cover or providing it.
The Trandoshan, however, was now flanking their enemy.
With a roar, the monstrous devotee charged towards the intruder, aiming to plaster him against the far wall.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 17, 2017 11:02:38 GMT -8
As the scarlet shoto lanced towards his heart, the shepherd's own royal blue weapon caught the woman's blade with his own. An angled thrust of his own forced both lightsabers into the tree that Na'an held. Sparks flew as the blades connected with the burnt trunk, and the tree itself almost began to burn anew as the weapons slowly drove towards the tree's core. The Jedi's weapon continued to push the red blade inward, until it was almost invisible in the cinders of the once-great tree. The shepherd wanted to use it as a teaching moment; no matter what, the light would always bury the darkness in the ashes of what its followers created.
But the shepherd was done trying to teach her.
Reaching out with his mind, the Zabrak suddenly pushed downward on his lightsaber's hilt, forcing the locked blades to descend violently through the burnt bark. The Force wrapped around the tree's branches and trunk like a vengeful serpent, its vile hiss given voice by the searing of the tree itself. And with a flash of thought, the shepherd pulled the ashen tree down, aiming to bury his former student under it.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 8, 2017 15:09:09 GMT -8
The human was blinded by the target's speed. He'd ducked just enough to prevent a fatal blow - the CorSec academy he'd failed out of had taught him that much - but not enough to protect his unarmored forehead from absorbing the full impact of the leather-bound tome, knocking him completely on his back and leaving no small amount of blood on the cover.
Seeing their comrade fall spurred the Gran and Bothan soldiers into action, and the pair began firing indiscriminately into the solid wooden table. The Trandoshan, however, grabbed the canine's weapon and forced it to fire on the left flank, creating an impenetrable wall of blaster fire that didn't seem to care whether or not it hit their target. This, however, opened up the right flank. This, however, allowed the massive Trandoshan monk to advance, gingerly holding its stun baton in its clawed hand as it did so...
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 8, 2017 15:04:27 GMT -8
The Zabrak had reset himself, his jade eyes landing on his fallen apprentice as her short crimson blade cut into one of the garden's burnt trees. He let his own blade fall to the side at an angle and he gathered the Force about himself; Na'an's continued survival was a testament, either to her ability to survive or some deeply-buried unwillingness on his part to complete the mission. Neither would do. Whatever her next play was, the shepherd would be ready. He had to be. As proud as he was of his former pupil, she now stood in the way of the very balance she swore to seek out.
Slowly, with carefully placed steps, the shepherd advanced towards Na'an as the Force continued to swell about his body. It felt less like the extension of her body knew with each passing second and each silent footstep. Rather, the Force was beginning to feel like a tamed beast, pacing behind its master with a dire hunger, ready to pounce upon the woman with a mere snap of the shepherd's fingers.
Don't I? he said, his words echoing in Na'an's skull, I'm not the one who brought an uncontrolled wretch into the Felucian Enclave. I'm not the one that fell for a darkness-worshipping warlock. I'm not the one that professed to love her friends, only to abandon them and cast them deeper into darkness, Na'an. For all your talk of what it means to be a Jedi, for all you and Calmcacil accuse me of, you've done far more to further the dark side's cause than I've ever done.
But fear not, the shepherd continued, once you've learned your final lesson, I'll see to correcting your oversights. Kent. Shan. Bastiel. Where to begin...
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Dec 29, 2016 21:36:48 GMT -8
"Righ', then. Spleen t' sternum 'tis."
The Human opened fire into the library, but unlike the men whose armor he wore, his aim was horrific. The first shot banked left, almost toppling a shelf. Another obliterated one of Desmonde's carefully-placed stacks. But as his firing continued, his aim improved, edging ever closer to their interloper.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Dec 29, 2016 21:26:16 GMT -8
There.
Na'an's concentration had faltered, broadcasting her vision of a hateful Bastiel and a vengeful droid across the Force; her thoughts had betrayed her. As the blaster rifle flew towards his horned head, the shepherd merely shot to the side, letting the weapon continue its path into his wayward apprentice, whose red blade would carve only through the air of the jungle moon. She was free of her hiding place at last. Exposed, and not just in body. Even when her mind should have focused on survival, all she could think about was her toy and her friend betraying her. It was not concern for their safety, but doubt. It was worry. Fear.
And there was no place for fear in those that wielded a lightsaber.
His conviction renewed, the shepherd pressed the attack, using the Force to close the distance and using his blue lightsaber to cut swathes across the air, aiming to slice the Human failure to ribbons.
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