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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 11, 2015 19:24:37 GMT -8
The Mortus
Here the Mortus in found on the beach 5km from the enclosed city. The Mortus is the infamous pub frequented by the Iron Fists & their friends. It is a stark reminder of who exactly resides on this planet. Remains of the Kashyyyk Academy riddle the outside. Feral’s throne also sits as a war prize. An open patio runs along the west side. The doorway has two stakes for heads – one on either side. The interior is a standard pub setup: booths & stools around the bar – a secluded corner for the randy. An old juke box sits – blasting constantly. This is a strange environment, the place of reckless brawls and murder yet also one where among the most sophisticated plans made and covenants sealed
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 11, 2015 21:18:02 GMT -8
An Tiarna makes the stretch of the leg down the beach quietly, head not moving to the left or right, his fiery gaze set on a specific locale; an old building growing bigger & more clear with each step. Not a word spoken he continued as if in a trance yet nothing around him lost as he stepped on then stopping but a few meters away. His guard kept close &a few natives followed but at a safe distance.
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
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Post by Lord Nexus on Dec 11, 2015 22:20:12 GMT -8
In step with the high king, the collossal figure that was the Lord of Chaos, Nexus, made his way to that same structure. He felt his bones tingling in anticipation; for so long, he had slept, and now he was alive and awake...and itching for a fight. Ahead of them stood the Mortus, place of ancient legend and home to both men and myth. Nexus looked to An Tiarna, then to the mysterious figure in their company, and finally back at the mortus.
As he walked, his cloak slowly slipped off, revealing armor that was the size of most player's egos, and a blade to match, as Reaver was slung over his shoulder. The ancient, bloodied blade was hungry, and Nexus was hoping to whet it's palate.
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 12, 2015 23:05:33 GMT -8
An Tiarna freezes cold for a moment, face stone, eyes bottomless. Reaching out a giant hand he deftly snatches a shovel from a worker.
"I must go for a wee bit. Nexus watch the pub."
& with that he was stormed off leaving his all but four of his personal guard & Nexus behind in him. The old man entered the Sentinel class shuttle & with that it lifted & took off & was gone.
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
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Affiliation: Chaos
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Post by Lord Nexus on Dec 13, 2015 16:15:53 GMT -8
The Dark One watched as An Tiarna wandered off, shrugging at the man, then looked to the shade.
"Keep up if you like..." then looking at the Togorians, he spoke out in a booming voice, the very same booming voice that rallied soldiers and struck fear in the heart of the enemy. "It seems that our old haunt has new owners. Clearly they seemed to mistake our absence as a vacancy. Let's remind them why the galaxy builds empires..."
He looked towards the derelict remains of the Mortus, the tatters of empires felled and kings slain still adorned the exterior, yet on the inside, Nexus could detect life. Unwanted vagrants. He didn't know, nor care who they were. If they were worth living, they would know to stay well away. The dark lord reached up, grabbing the drexl leather hilt of Reaver, pulling the mighty blade free from its harness- the kiss of steel on steel was all but silent as the well oiled blade slid free. The Dark looked back at his troops.
"It's to clear the ashes and destruction that the Warriors of the Iron Fist have left in their wake!"
And with that, the Dark Lord and the Togorians rushed the building, without warning or fear, unleashing with them a bloody path of death and carnage. The slaughter was righteous and quick. After not even ten minutes of fighting, the last of the vagrants, some lowly mercenary band, was executed. Nexus gave his colossal blade a flick, clearing the last of the blood from it, before re-sheathing it.
"Now, lets clean this mess before An Tiarna returns from his trip to the bathroom..."
Nexus assigned the guards to do a perimeter sweep, while he called in a small custodial crew to rid the area of the corpses and wreckage. As they did so, he tended to the bar himself, brushing off a thick layer of dust to reveal the ancient furniture. He procured a bottle of Paddy for the old man, and a bottle of ages Kashyyyk fire whiskey for himself. As he lifted the slightly chipped glass to his lips, he glanced around the room, seeing through the custodians and guards. Phantoms of memories lingered here- this was a place of power. He looked to see where the shade, who had gone un-introduced yet not unknown, had ended up.
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 17, 2015 18:53:58 GMT -8
"But it amuses me."
He half grinned and winked at Nexus as the Dark Lord spoke to the togorians then rushed off to more than likely kill homeless people or something. He wasn't really sure about these mortals anymore. He laughed to himself gently as he continued his walk towards the Mortus
"Always in a rush....."
He clasped his hands behind his back and whistled as he walked, slowly, methodically, towards the Mortus
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 19, 2015 16:33:10 GMT -8
*At the side of the Mortus a burial pyre was constructed. A hole 6' deep was packed with peat moss & the top covered with a 3' high weave green tinder brush wood. With soil set to the right & left sides a massive rock stood at the back. A group of Dark hooded figures chanted endlessly at each side with a well placed set of snipers on watch; three present round the clock. A more visible IF honor guard walked the grounds kept up a vigil too, greeting any mourners. The scene was set.*
*A Sentinel class transport set down beside the pyre. An Tiarna excited with the urn in hand. He walked to the pyre placing the urn atop the thick brush. A bottle was passed tp him & An Tiarna took a stiff swig & poured the remaining whiskey around the urn. Tossing the bottle to the side the pyre was set alight. The flames grew high as the peat below slowly began to burn. Fresh branches were constantly added keeping the flame going on top & holding the urn in place as the peat below ever so slowly became ash. The burial ceremony had begun* |
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 19, 2015 17:51:39 GMT -8
As An Tiarna, a title more than an actual name, brought the urn and placed it in the center of the Pyre, Erevis looked on with detachment. Pomp and ceremony. Rushing about. Symbols and traditions. It was all.......surreal to him. He watched Tiarna pour out the whiskey and he winced.
"A waste if you ask me. But you haven't."
He mentally shrugged and continued to watch, slight bemusement etched on his face.
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 19, 2015 19:49:04 GMT -8
'Piss off ugly'
*After wasting these words on the infidel An Tiarna spoke to what mattered*
'The Iron Fists are now in a state of mourning.... All flags will fall to half mast, military, public & private business, with exception of necessary services will come to a halt. Military forces are now at a state of emergency. full alert. That noted the iron gates of Manaan will during this time of National mourning will be open to all who wish to pay tribute to Iniquitous. Now let us get a right understanding; any who attempt to take advantage of our time of grieving will be punished in a most hideous fashion.... That said, let the ceremony begin....'
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 19, 2015 20:11:59 GMT -8
*An Tiarna stood solemnly for a long while, his stance straight, the bottomless eyes on his wooden face set firmly on the pyre in honor of Iniquitous. At long last the old man took a pull from whiskey bottle then spoke in a thunderous voice*
'Iniquitous was... is... & always will be part of the Heart & Soul of the Warriors of the Iron Fists. His feats of bravery & immense strength will never be forgotten. The example he set as brother, warrior & counsel cannot be matched yet stand as a height that others should attempt to achieve nonetheless. Inky, as we close called him, was never afraid to question my decisions; indeed we came to blows many a time.... & indeed at points we fought on opposing sides.... Yet in the end my brother always had my back....
It struck me when I retrieved Iniquitous' remains from Yavin 4 just how rich Iniquitous' experience was, after all he died a Jedi. Strange I felt indeed looking at the ground that we had once bombed mercilessly. It was there that the depth of my brother's life truly struck home.... Iniquitous was a rock of moral values yet open to change... an admirable quality. That said I am not fit to speak to his life there; ignorance to this part of his life disqualifies me from justly speaking to it.
Now... here on the beach of Manaan the tales of drunken brawls with Inky, from some of which I still carry the scars, could take up hours. But I'll spare you from such longwinded tales; Iniquitous' celebrated life history is written on the Universe walls.... Maith go leor!!!
*& at that the old man stood back*
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 20, 2015 17:01:33 GMT -8
*An Tiarna sat as the ritual carried on with Iniquitous' remains still in state, his ashes in an urn atop a flaming burial pyre. The scene had settled down to a quite vigil. Thee old man slowly drank from a bottle of whiskey. A Dark silence surrounded the site, save the ominous keening that filled the air with a ghostly chant as the peat beneath slowly burned into ashes*
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 20, 2015 17:17:48 GMT -8
*Around the somber ceremony a bustle of activity carried on as the IF once again came alive on the island city of Atho. An Tiarna quietly whispered orders into the ears of officers who quickly set about their tasks. The business of a working war machine stopped at nothing* |
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 20, 2015 19:21:42 GMT -8
*The Seanchaí, or Elder in Basic, Torna Ó MaolchonaireIn stood among the crowd. Many a story of Iniquitous could fall with ease form his lips but he stayed silent at the moment watching with observant eyes. In the backdrop of the sacred ritual the wheels of the war machine moved along. Orders were handed out, troops took up position, living quarters, communication lines & defensive hardware were established, organized & maintained. Top brass laid out plans & prepared to execute them. The heart of the IF army quietly conversed*
Field Marshall Michael Collins
Joe Cahill
Harry Boland
Danny Breen
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 21, 2015 17:03:27 GMT -8
OoC: This is a little description about how the beach on Manaan has been since very early in JvS.
Beach of the Skulls
Stretching out 50km from the western edge of the island city is what the locals simply call The Beach of the Skulls inspired by the IF habit of cutting off & then posting the heads of slain adversaries on poles. The foundation is an exact replica of that found on the east save several key parts of the structure. The top layer is course sand that runs on a subtle slope meeting the edge. Inside a ring 10km in from the shoreline gravel is laid exclusively up to 20m short of the surface and the outer edge is perforated. This design blocks water from coming in and flooding the beach. The mass of heads posted on stakes 10km back of the shore dare all foolish enough to arrive with ill intent.
*20 sniper teams (one shooter; one spotter each) are traditionally assigned to the Beach if the Skulls. These troops remain constantly on the move and maintain strong communication. A large number of sniper pits constructed of sandbags and camouflaged by sand line the beach starting 100m from the city and ending 500m from the shoreline.
The Mortus
Here the Mortus in found on the beach 5km from the enclosed city. The Mortus is the infamous pub frequented by the Iron Fists & their friends. It is a stark reminder of who exactly resides on this planet. Remains of the Kashyyyk Academy riddle the outside. Feral’s throne also sits as a war prize. An open patio runs along the west side. The doorway has two stakes for heads – one on either side. The interior is a standard pub setup: booths & stools around the bar – a secluded corner for the randy. An old juke box sits – blasting constantly. This is a strange environment, the place of reckless brawls and murder yet also one where among the most sophisticated plans made and covenants sealed.
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 21, 2015 17:48:12 GMT -8
"Ugly? Have you looked in a mirror lately? Yikes"
He mock shuddered, adjusting his suit jacket once more. He looked at his shoes, now covered in sand, and flicked his fingers on his right hand, the sand disappearing. He stepped closer to the pyre, staring intently into the flames, the dark orange reflecting off the deep amethyst of his eyes. His consciousness was focused solely here, solely on the flames, entirely on the Urn in the center.
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An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Dec 21, 2015 18:55:43 GMT -8
*The old man shot a puzzled look at Elvis barking off a reply*
What is this... thing?
*Throwing his arms up the old man answered his own question*
No matter, you're paying respects thus welcome.
*Then shouting*
Would someone pay mind to this horrible, loathsome, sad excuse for a life form? Get him a... a dish with something of an alcoholic nature in it. Toss in a prostitute if he wishes... I'll foot the bill; wretched being appears as poor as he is hideous.
*Whill Shameful Elvis was promptly attended to by several scantly clad servants*
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 21, 2015 19:27:58 GMT -8
He waved off the women quietly, one of them trying a little too hard. In one second she found herself over top of the ocean, floating in mid air. A half second later she was Firaxan Shark bait.
"Not my type"
He continued to stare into the flames, seemingly lost.
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Adi
Crew of the Wayward Son
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Post by Adi on Dec 21, 2015 19:51:09 GMT -8
The small transport ship bearing the 'Happy Herbs' logo on the side landed outside of The Mortus. The energies surrounding this place were somber, different from the normally jovial atmosphere that resounded between the walls. Hopping out of the shuttle with the cat on his shoulder, and retrieving a bag from one of the side compartments, Skylar strode toward the entrance, past the staked heads, and stopping at the guards who blocked his way. Cocking his head, and looking at them like 'Really?', they understood, recognizing the youthful face that had once been here through the weathered scars and sunken eyes. Stepping aside, they allowed him entrance without a search, something that even Skylar was not used to. It wasn't like he was here to cause trouble, anyway....
...He was here to return something to the family which it belonged.
A few strides across the outside deck, and he saw the massive funeral pyre, and immediately understood. He could feel it, he knew who's remains were being consumed by the flames. THIS was why he was called here. It was a rather strange coincidence....but it was not time to dwell upon that. Seeing An-Tiarna talking to someone else, Skylar nodded deeply, and reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. Thrusting it at the old man's hands, Skylar didn't even stop, as he didnt want to interrupt the conversation, until he reached the pyre. He was so close that the heat was turning the exposed skin of his face red. The cat hopped off, moving out of the range of the singeing flames. Reaching once more into his bag, Skylar pulled out a second bottle of whiskey, this time opening it, and tossing it into the flames, landing it right beside the urn. One more time, he reached into the bag, and pulled out a final bottle of whiskey, opening it as well. Taking a long swig, he again bowed his head very deeply, closing his eyes.
A few moments of silence passed with Skylar's head bowed, and his eyes closed. He said nothing....he could come up with no words to signify what this man had meant to him. Dace Concordia had been a part of Skylar's entire life....always pushing him further, to get better, become stronger. He had lost his life to someone that had no idea the depth of the character he was slaying. Old or not, he had been taken too early from the world of the living.
"We will meet again soon, my brother."
Walking back over to An-Tiarna, Skylar took a swig from the bottle, and handed it over.
"Good to see you well, Old Man. It's been a long time. That's some pretty good stuff there....save that one I gave you for later. We can share mine for now. I have something for you, by the way." Stepping away, Skylar put one arm out, then his other. The force began swirling around him, bits and pieces of metal, and crystal, started to swirl around his hands. They began to piece together, snapping together in front of Skylar's outstretched palms. Soon, it became apparent what they were. Anyone who knew what the sabers of Lord Iniquitous would almost instantly recognize them.
As quickly as it had began, the assembly was completed, and the hilts rested in the Arkanian's hands. Thumbing the activators, both of the black bladed weapons came to life.
"I'm pretty sure you know who these belonged to. Almost killed me to get 'em back from the bastard that stole them, but I got 'em." He deactivated the weapons, and handed one over to An-Tiarna.
"He would have wanted you to have this. I cannot keep the weapon from it's family...it belongs here."
Bowing his head in respect, he awaited An-Tiarna's response.
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Dec 21, 2015 20:01:12 GMT -8
Stepping away from the pyre, Erevis stepped close to Adi and sniffed, arching an eyebrow at the man, a bemused look on his perfectly manicured face
"Huh. Didn't see that coming. Guess we will be seeing more of each other down the road"
He stepped back once more, keeping an eye on both Tiarna and Adi
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
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Post by Lord Nexus on Dec 22, 2015 9:53:02 GMT -8
The fire never came close to dying during the ceremony; the abundance of alcohol and kindling ensured that. An Tiarna stood near the fire, mourning the loss of his right hand. Nexus, on the other hand, stood well away from the pyre, and the soldiers. He had emerged from the Mortus when they started building the pyre, and made no move to greet An Tiarna as he returned with the ashes of the felled Iniquitous- or perhaps, Dace Concordia. As the high king began the ceremony, Nexus reached up for his helmet. Placing his finger on the biometric scanner, the helmet let out a hiss as its vacuum seal broke.
The helmet, which originally seemed to be one piece, began to shift; the section that covered the dark lord's mouth and nose lowered, while the cheek and jaw sections popped out and slid aside, revealing the gruff, unshaven chin and jaw of the War Lord. He reached up, pulling the top of the helmet off of his head to reveal his full face. His eyes were a cold, pale blue, while his hair was an even colder shade of silver. He was not easy on the eyes, with a strong brow and jaw along broad chin, covered in stubble. Once clear of his head, the helm reassembled into its ominous visage.
He made no move towards the pyre, instead, he watched from the side lines. He had not yet come to terms with Iniquitous' death. There was much that was left unsaid between the two. The most ironic of which was that Iniquitous was once ordered by the Old Man to kill Nexus for high treason many years ago. It felt like a life time ago. Since then, they had brought planets and species to their knees, yet towards the end, they grew apart- Iniquitous had joined the Jedi and Nexus disappeared, venturing in the uncharted regions of space, only to return for war, and on this occasion, the death of someone close.
As the ceremony went on, Nexus waved off attendants and soldiers- he was not in a speaking mood. Then, suddenly, Nexus felt a presence that he had not felt for many ages. He did not know him as well as others, yet he knew him all the same. When the man emerged from the Mortus, he looked different than Nexus remembered. The Dark Lord watched on as he approached An Tiarna, and then the pyre. He watched as Skylar returned to An Tiarna, handing him the lightsabers. A part of him wanted to interrupt, but he knew his place, and watched on in silence.
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