Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Sept 24, 2023 20:33:48 GMT -8
* The force push wasn't strong enough to knock this Praetorian out of the fight but at least it drove him back. Thrakk smirked as he knew his old master would be scolding him for his lack of upkeep with his force abilities. He had to admit, he was a bit rusty, having spent most of his time these last few years focusing on the more humanitarian aspects of the force rather than combat. For so long he had suppressed that side of him, the side of him that relished for the thrill of the fight; the side of him and basked in the power that combat gave him...the side of him that his Master had helped him overcome so many years ago. But even as he contemplated this, he could not help but feel that spark once again ignite within himself, that spark that gave him his edge. This time he wouldn't turn away from it, he would embrace it; and let the spark become the inferno it was meant to be. He would do what needed to be done, for there was no shying away from it this time,
The Praetorian shook of his attack and spun its weapon with a such speed that gave it a kind of elegance before rushing towards Thrakk with two thrusts from it's voulge. As the glowing crimson tip headed straight for Thrakk's chest, it was as if time slowed as he felt himself become immersed into the force. The crackling sounds of his lightsaber deflecting the two thrusts split the air as sparks sprang out in all directions each time their weapons made contact. Thrakk was now moving on instinct letting the flow of the battle come to him naturally, freeing his mind and letting the force guide his actions. His face would display a calm that would make most feel a sense of unease as the years of muscle memory take over, he would not give...no he would not let this Praetorain take another step forward.
Thrakk's robes begin to billow softly around him, his hair even began to wisp about his head as if a breeze had set upon him. He takes the fight to the Praetorain, pressing forward with his own attack, the cyan blade becoming an unnatural blur as he spun the blade into a quick barrage of strikes aiming to overwhelm his enemy. With each step he takes forward, the power behind his strikes increases. Thrakk aimed to finish this fight here and now and then deal with the rest of the troopers around him, but before he could reach out into the force to do so, that's when he felt. An overwhelming sense of darkness drawing nearer...the Master of these minions had come. *
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Sept 28, 2023 6:22:32 GMT -8
A dark shadow crept across the city of Kessendra as the onyx black bulk of the Dark Apothecary's battle hydra, Draygore, swept over the tops of buildings as it descended towards the war torn streets below. With a thirty meter wide wingspan and a monstrous scaled body to boot, the two headed draconian mutant flattened structures to duracrete rubble as claws the length of spear carved up the road leading towards the alley, sliding to a stop just sort of the narrow channel whilst kicking up an obscuring cloud of dust.Thrakk had more pressing concerns at the moment than the arrival of the feared and often considered fictitious Famine Lord. Fortunately the Jedi's resurgence of strength was having the desired effect. NJX-13 was finally giving ground, driven back and on the defensive as the Thyrsian increased the pace of his attacks until even the gene-crafted warrior could barely keep up, each blow leaving a steaming welt across the length of his voulge. The technologically sophisticated crimson heavy armour he wore was scoured by a dozen smoking scars, each bite of Thrakk's cyan blade irreparably tarnishing the pristine overlapping plate. The overhead betting had stopped, partially due to he arrival of the dreaded drake lord, but also because of the turn in the flow of battle.A powerful blow from the Jedi's hissing blade finally swatted the long polearm from the Elite Praetorian's iron hard grip, the voulge's screaming head crackling as it embedded itself in the alley wall to the guardsman's left. A follow-up vertical strike brought NJX-13 to his knees, the mag-coils beneath his onionskin armour snarling as the electro-filaments were overworked and caused his joints to spark violently, sending rivulets of pain through the clone super-soldier's body.It was only then that the dust began to clear, blown away by large sulphurous wisps of Draygore's carrion reeking breath, wafting from twin jaws agape to expose fathomless dark maws guarded by sword length serrated teeth. Those bestial snouts connected to long necks, drawn back towards a voluminous body upon which a reek leather saddle was affixed. Perched upon the hydra's back was a creature as equally fierce but far more foul, exuding an aura that presented a prevailing wrongness at odds with the natural order. A insatiable thirst and ravenous hunger permeated the scaled black form of a barabel astride the great beast, swathed in a cloak of charcoal hued rishii feathers with a matching bird bone cap resting upon the Hungering One's head. The yellow beak curled over the end of his crocodilian snout, which spread into a villainous grin that seemed to stretch impossibly beyond the borders of his horrific visage. Though the bird skulls eye sockets he leered at the Jedi standing over his kneeling servant, the right eye a bloody saurian orb with a slit obsidian pupil, the left an amethyst gem that seemed to crackle with unnatural light. A buzzing crown of insectile gnats seemed to circle over the demonic drake's head, drawn to the overwhelming stench of sour blood and rancid offal that exuded from his scaled form. A forked tongue extended out from behind rows of glistening fangs that protruded from his jaws, stained pink from his most recent meal. The forked organ flicked in the air, sampling the savoury chemical composition, soiling the front of his robe in crimson flecks from his bleeding black gums."Oh, don't mind me." Hissed He-Who-Hungers with a maniacal cackle. "Siss, Siss, Siss. Finish him." His words were undoubtedly for the Jedi standing victorious over the Praetorian, now holding NJX-13's life in his hands, only...it was more than just words. The terrible telepathic will of the Great Devourer reverberated from his feathered form like a psychic hammer, resonating in the Force as a repeating echo.<< FINISH HIM! >> There was something utterly irresistible about that voice, seductive in its own sadistic way, seeking purchase in the battle lust risen in the Thyrsian.
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Sept 28, 2023 21:12:39 GMT -8
* It all just then suddenly stopped. As the dust from the large creature's wing beats cleared, Thrakk found himself standing over the kneeling Praetorian, looking down at his enemy in sheer confusion as his eyes ran over his red armored foe. The numerous lightsaber strikes that now marked the Praetorians armor, the voulge imbedded in the duracrete wall behind them, Thrakk was shaken at this sight. For it was if for those last brief moments of combat, he could not recall them even happening. His grip of the hilt of his lightsaber began to relax, the power that he had felt surging forth from within began to fade. The spark that had become the inferno that he had used to defeat his foe was now just a lingering ember. Was it the emotions he had so longed repressed? or the natural bloodlust that came from his Thyrsian heritage? He didn't know.
With the point of his cyan blade just barely under the Praetorians chin, Thrakk own vision in his left eye becomes clouded as he now realizes that at some point during the fight the voulges blade had struck true, leaving a slashed open wound starting above his left eye and going just down past his cheek. As the being atop the winged monstrosity dismounts the war beast, Thrakk feels a sudden darkness envelope him, the sick gut-wrenching feeling resulting from this causes him to stagger a few steps back from the Praetorian. Thrakk's thumb sliding over the ignition button of his lightsaber deactivating the cyan blade.
Thrakk turns to face the voice that he can now hear coming from behind him. His eyes meeting those of the Great Devourer's as it lets out a maniacal cackle. Thrakk can not only hear the words....but feels them and soon they are booming within his head. Reaching out into the force, Thrakk strains to calm his mind. He reaches out for the light but can only feel himself grasping out into a void of darkness....a darkness that soon begins to root itself within him. Clenching his teeth, Thrakk shuts his eyes as he tries to purge the voice from his mind, his left hand clenching his forehead. For brief moment he thinks he can hear his old Master calling to him through the force, but the voice is soon lost over the sadistic dark laced voice that has now anchored itself within Thrakk. Finish him.
Thrakk's posture changes, as he stands tall no longer hunched over in pain. His left hand slowly lowering to his side, his eyes open and his head lifts. His gaze no longer at his feet but back straight at the Great Devourer's. The iris of his injured left eye now a mix of crimson and yellow. Without turning back to face the Praetorian, Thrakk's left hand begins to slowly move at his side as his fingers begin to clench. Behind him the Praetorians armor starts to buckle, soon the sound of crunching armor is drowned out by the snaps of bone. With the final movement of his left hand turning into a closed fist, the Praetorian falls forward laying in a disfigured manner. *
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Sept 29, 2023 6:19:42 GMT -8
Exquisite, thought the Blood Wyrm. The scaled lid over his bloody right orb widened in genuine surprise at the dark turn of events, his scaled cheeks eliciting a leathery creek as they stretched just a little further, jaws agape in a heinously hungry expression. He had fully expected the Jedi to strike the Praetorian's helmeted head from its crimson clad body in a decapitating sweep of his lightsaber, instead the...Jedi? Well, that hardly felt like an appropriate term for the Thyrsian now. Instead, they had delved deep into the darkness inside of them and utilized the currents of the malevolent fey for their murder-make, crushing NJX-13 like a sardine can ground underfoot. The audible pops of cartilage and delightful snap of bone excited the saurian Sith's depraved appetite, causing scalding salivation mixed with the drake lord's own vitae to spill over his lips and drip down his scaled chin in long gooey ropes. His forked tongue swished across the front rows of his glistening incisors, sopping up the steaming residue with a slurp, causing the villainous velociraptor to gurgle wetly as he giggled aloud.
"Well done." Rasped the reprehensible reptile as he brought the scaled palms of his claws together in an approving clap, rising slowly to stand in the saddle atop Draygore's armoured backside. The battle hydra's left head lowered to the ground, forming a makeshift ramp with its neck so that its cruel hearted rider might descend to the alley floor. Dragus casually strolled from his seat down to the ground, the obsidian talon tips of his toes more akin to butchers hooks, pricking the hydra's scales with every sinister step. A glinting serrated spear tip refracted the low lighting of the alley as it rose up behind the Dark Apothecary's fiendish form, attached to the end of an overlong tail that protruded from his backside, swaying back and forth behind his beak bedecked skull in rhythmic fashion. There would be no mistaking Dragus for anything other than a creature of the darkside, he wore its corrupting influence as one might wear a cloak, radiating its wickedness from his aura as a wasting miasma anathema to all that was pure and good in the galaxy. He paused as he reached the cracked duracrete pavement, his freakish features faltering in the face of Thrakk, the corners of his lips drooping in a scornful scowl as he witnessed the marring of the murderer's freshly scarred visage.
That was unfortunate. Had he not given his precious Nu-Jake instruction to subdue the Jedi unharmed? Actually, he couldn't quite recall. No matter. Scars built character, assuming the meat didn't fester and spoil. Better the Praetorian was dead for this unseemly mistake, which gave him more reason to be pleased with the young man's actions.
"An absssolute pleasssure to make your acquaintance, my dear lad." Hissed the Hungering One, leaning forwards slightly at the waist in a mock bow, with his right claw draped across his feather swathed chest. His mismatched gaze never left the Thyrsian's form, the multi-faceted gem set in his left socket seeming to swirl out from the center somewhat hypnotically. As he slowly straightened, the black scaled barabel brought his claws together, intertwining his finger talons. "My name iz Draguz, Sssith extraordinaire and Massster of the Alchemical Artz. And you are..." His right eye lingered on the Praetorian's cooling corpse. "...my blood thirsssty, chum?"
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Sept 29, 2023 11:46:00 GMT -8
* Thrakk tilts his face slightly upwards to meet the gaze of the fiendish Saurian before him, the smell coming from the Dark Apothecary permeated his nostrils, but Thrakk held his composure. It was his first time meeting a being of this particular species, Thrakk had dealt with Trandoshans before and this Sith before him was clearly not of the sort. It took all of his inner constitution to hold himself together as he felt the nexus of darkside energy waft over him, Thrakk had felt the alure of the dark before but not like this. *
" Thrakk Valinor "
* Thrakk didn't know what would come next, his right thumb gently resting on the activator switch of his lightsaber*.
" I am surprised the Jedi have let such a specimen as yourself run rampant Lord Dragus "
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Sept 29, 2023 14:59:11 GMT -8
"Don't think they haven't tried." Lisped the lecherous lizard with a casual shrug of his feather draped shoulders. "I'm a hard Sssith to ignore when I come knocking on their door." Knocking was one way to put it, given that he had walked up to the Corellian Jedi Academy's front entrance and blasted a hole in it with a bazooka. He dragged his forked tongue over his lips, scattering a swarm of gnats drawn to the rancid morsels of spoiled meat caught between his forest of fangs. "But a Lord of the Eye iz not an easssy creature to kill."
To further make his case, the despicable draconian summoned a measure of his wrath, raw and unfiltered as he dipped ethereal claws into the wellspring of infinite hate and channeled the insidious currents of the darkside throughout his scaled form. Tendrils of shadow bled from between his scales, coalescing around his vulturous form, drawing the very warmth from the air around him. As he swallowed back the bubbling saliva pooling in his lower jaw from weeping glands, some of the insects caught between his teeth popped, teasing his palate with their putrid guts. The rest withered and died, dropping to the ground where they flaked away as ash. The twisted terrorsaur expressed a pleasurable shudder, wracked with a full bodied convulsion as he savoured the sensation, like a spice junky deep in their fix. Wisps of sulphurous breath blew through the beak he wore, exhaled from the flaring nostril slits of his toothy snout.
"Truth be told, I rather thought their kind extinct, sssave for a few stragglerz too ssstubborn to die. Ssso imagine my sssurprise when I heard word that one of their ilk waz in the city." His snout scrunched beneath his skull cap and the scaled lid over his right eye narrowed as he studied Thrakk with due curiosity. "Certainly, you are not quite what I waz expecting. Oh, don't missstake me, I'm sssure you're a paragon of moral sssuperiority." The Sith iron spike capping his serpentine tail flicked dismissively. "It'z jussst, they don't typically ussse the darkssside to kill. That'z what you did, waz it not? I certainly enjoyed the disssplay, enough perhapz to excussse the butchery of my rather expensssive clonez." Times were tough for the destitute drake, forcing him to pinch pennies like a credit counting meiser. "Unfortunately, you've already ssseen too much, which begz the quessstion...what to do with you? Hmmm? Loossse lipz sssink ssstar destroyerz, az the expresssion goez."
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Sept 30, 2023 16:20:36 GMT -8
* Thrakk moved with a visible shrug of discomfort as Dragus clacked his jaws together and began displaying his uncanny connection to the darkside of the force, he watched closely as the black tendrils of power appeared to form around the Dark Apothecary. Only for a brief moment could Thrakk see the black scales and feathers of the Sith before the saurian was completely cloaked in the darkside. The young Jedi's discomfort was soon exponentially increased as he could feel the hate and malice pour forth in the force and fill the area around him. He felt cold, he felt fear and Thrakk knew he did not have the power to fight against it. *
" I travel the Galaxy and go where the force needs me Lord Dragus "
* Thrakk knew that the Order had been shattered and left to only a few subsects operating on their own through the Galaxy, it had been many years since he had walked the Halls of the Temple on Coruscant or even been in contact with any semblance of a council. He had chosen to walk his own path and follow his Master's way of being a Jedi, roaming the galaxy like as if he was ronin, helping those in need where and when he could. Hence is being on Kessel before the Sith arrived.
The discomfort soon began to fade as his body began to except the darkness about him, it was as if he was adapting to it, his subconscious latching out to the power about him and trying to take it into himself to make it his own. Thrakk clipped his lightsaber hilt to his belt as he continued to meet Lord Dragus's stare*
" Certainly you could understand that your presence here was a surprise as well Lord Dragus"
* Thrakk crossed his arms across his chest as he continued to speak*
" The fate of your soldier was sealed once we crossed blades, just as mine would be if I was to attempt to contend with you. I know when I am outmatched "
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Oct 1, 2023 7:09:09 GMT -8
"Sssuch a flatterer." Cooed the criminally insane crocodilian, taking a clawed step closer to the Thyrsian, his wicked aura expressing itself in rapturous waves. Wordless whispers projected between their mindscapes, offering the allure of promised power, if only he would reach out and take hold of those corrupting currents. "And wissse well beyond your yearz. Feel no shame in acknowledging our differencez; you did quite well againssst my alchemically enhanced soldierz. In fact, you are only the sssecond thuz far to defeat one of my Elite Praetorian Guard in individual combat. Without quessstion you posssesss talent, unfortunately ssstymied by your indoctrination by the Light, but it'z there all the sssame." Shrugging his left shoulder, the devilish drake pulled back the feathered flap of his robe to reveal a satchel of alchemical supplies resting against his left hip. The pack elicited the jingle-jangle of glassware rattling together inside with every movement of his stalking saurian form. Slipping a claw into the bag, He-Who-Hungers rummaged around a moment before withdrawing a long stemmed pipe.
A gift from the night ewoks of Weeping Bark village on blessed Pzob. The celestial descendants had paw carved the smoking implement from a broken branch of the Witch Tree, whose roots ravenously fed off the primal dark magics of that tainted soil, imbuing the Pzobian oak a measure of the darkside.
With practised talons the sinister Scaled One packed a pinch of his own blend of darkside enriched spice into the bowl end of the pipe, a concoction more commonly referred to as Darkside Dank, then brought the fluted end of the hand carved device to his black lips. Blue forks of electrical current danced between the Great Devourer's talon tips, sparking the spice and immolating its contents as he inhaled, drawing a heady measure into his lungs. As he exhaled, two contrails of purple narcotic smoke expanded from his flaring nostrils, forming into nightmarish shapes in front of him before dispersing into the air.
"I should know." Holding the smoke pipe in his left claw, he placed his right to his chest, hovering over his cruel heart. "You sssee I am a collector of talented individualz, sssuch az yourssself. After ssseeing what I have ssseen, I sssimply mussst have you for myssself." He took another long draw from the pipe, before blowing a carcinogenic cloud at the Thyrsian. "Thessse people, they are unworthy of your protection. They would jussst az sssoon sssell their fellow man into ssslavery." He cupped his right ear hole with a claw. "You need only lisssten to the ssselfish desirez bleeding from their craven heartz, my dear darling Thrakk."
Flipping the foul tool over, he tapped out the ash before returning the pipe to his bag, then extended the same claw towards Thrakk in offering with his talons splayed and empty palm exposed.
"Come with me. I can offer you ssso much more than they ever could. A place at my ssside, kinship, power...you need only take my claw." Once more his words transcended the physical plane, this time delivered less bluntly. << Take my claw. >>
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Oct 2, 2023 18:23:23 GMT -8
* Thrakk watched as Dragus lit the pipe and took a few puffs before ashing his smoking implement, the smoke wafting in-between them before dissipating into the air above the pair. Listening to the Sith's words, Thrakk took the time to reach out into the force to sense what the Barabel was speaking of. That is when he felt it, amidst the chaos of the invasion and the bloodshed, the residents of Kessendra did not display any care for one another. Whether it be closing their doors to those that needed aid or turning on their own neighbor to save themselves, they displayed nothing of good intention. These people, the same people Thrakk came to aid would as soon turn on each other than unite to protect Kessendra or give any effort to help one another evacuate it.
He had fully prepared to lay down his life to save these people, like he had done before so many other times throughout his travels in the galaxy in his attempt to aid those in need. To what purpose though? he thought to himself, for it was clear that no matter how many times a helping hand was given; in time the peoples in the galaxy would just swat it away. As if choosing to continue the cycle of destruction instead of building a greater path forward for themselves...like drowning victims who would rather sink their rescuer then allow themselves to be rescued. Perhaps this is why the Jedi had continuously failed in their efforts across the Galaxy, why every time the Order had established peace through their own sacrifice they would be turned upon, as if they were the care takers of beast that had become rabid.
It was then the Jedi came to his realization, for so many years he did his best to follow his Master's teachings...but that is what got his Master killed, the inhabitants of the galaxy did not need a helping hand. No what they needed was a fist to keep them in line, for through their own freedoms they continuously brought about their own destruction. Freedom was the lie, for what the Galaxy needed was to be controlled. Thrakk felt the power welling up within him, he felt it driving him now to new purpose. A true purpose that he could finally fulfill, order needed to be brought to the chaos and he could do that if he but only accept the power Dragus was offering. Through fear and power would the systems in the Galaxy be brought in line, to establish a true peace. *
" If taking this path is the means to bringing about order in this Galaxy...then it is a path I shall take "
* Thrakk watches as Dragus extends his clawed hand out towards him, this was it. He knew that if he accepted this offer there would be no turning back for him. He would be turning away from everything he had done and known all his life, turning a back to the Order and to the light...but in return he knew he would become so much more. The power he needed was now so close to him, a literal fingers length away. But instead of taking Dragus's clawed hand, Thrakk kneels before the Sith Lord and lowers his head, then speaks in cold a determined voice*
" What ever is required of me, I shall do....Master "
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Post by Dragus on Oct 3, 2023 7:53:50 GMT -8
Thrakk's display of obeisance pleased the Great Devourer beyond measure. His ego could suffer no less than complete submission. More interesting was his new followers' assertion that these debaucheries committed in the sinful sultan's name had anything to do with order. It was rather low on the lisping lizard lord's to-do list. Nor did he care much about the success of the Sith as a whole, despite claiming to rank among their number. Everything was a means to an end, many shifting parts working in collaborative unison towards a singular goal: the completion of his work. The mad alchemist considered himself something of an artist, reshaping the tapestry of reality to suit his whim and desire. Yes, the conquest of Kessel would line the coffers of the Sith Eternal purse with spice profits for time to come, but his only real interest lay in the coaxium encrusted into its surface, to be utilized and processed with the formula he created to serve as fuel for the Eye of Astera currently being constructed over Hypori. Well, that and the Potage aux Esclave he had transformed the former population of the spice mines into. However, if galactic order was desire enough to set this new traveling companion down the ruinous road to the darkside, he'd happily support whichever lie served to do so.
"Oh my. Please rissse, Missseur Valinor." Hissed the Dark Apothecary in feigned embarrassment, covering his snout with a claw, as he referred to the Thyrsian using a Rylothian colloquial. "You'll make thiz old drake blush." Given the obsidian shade of his scales, so black they seemed to swallow up whatever light touched them, that was probably an impossibility.
With the Potage already completed and the subjugation of the planet well underway, there wasn't much need for the Famine Lord to hang around to oversee the remainder of the work. Meaning it was time he made for the Maelstrom to deliver his slave soup to the awaiting, and hopefully hungry, summa-verminoth that resided near the maw.
Casting his snout over his feather clad shoulder, He-Who-Hungers snarled at his waiting battle hydra, which had fixed the attention of both of its monstrous draconian heads on the two very different individuals standing in the alley.
"Draygore, be a dear and keep an eye on whatever edifice the sssubdued populace iz raisssing to show their appreciation of my benevolent liberation of thiz ssseedy cessspit of a planet. Nothing too gaudy. Sssomething tasssteful perhapz, like a jagged ssspire conssstructed from the bonez and sssinew of the deceasssed, hmmm?" Aye, keep it quaint, as they say. "You are welcome to eat anyone not pulling their weight. That should properly motivate thiz rabble."
Scaled membranous muscular wings beat together, flapping in rapid succession as the massive mutant hydra lifted off the ground, flying off possibly to carry out the Famine Lord's will. It was yet unclear exactly how intelligent the chimeric creature was. Its ascent kicked up the settled cloud of dust, causing the Blood Wyrm to cough as he turned back around to return his attention to Thrakk. Dragus' expression split into its usual sinister smirk, before motioning with a claw towards the cracked road leading out of the alley.
"Walk and talk with me, Thrakk. My transssport awaitz uz on the eassstern edge of the city, where I shall introduce you to the memberz of my Flock. Feel free to asssk me anything you wish along the way, I'm sssure you have many questionz, jussst az I am curiouz about you. Don't worry, I don't bite." He held a claw beneath his snout and scraped at his chin with a curved talon in clear contemplation. "Actually I do, but I won't, Sith'z honour. Shall we?"
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Oct 3, 2023 21:23:38 GMT -8
* Thrakk rises and then draws his hood over his head, he would play his part and play it well. He had already sensed what Dragus truly wanted or better yet yearned for. Chaos, death and the fulfillment of his own desires, that was Dragus's true nature and being a Sith Lord only hastened the completion of these goals. Thrakk in turn knew he needed to learn how to harness the power of the darkside, and that with the collapse of the Jedi; perhaps the Sith could offer another avenue for him to achieve his own ends and stabilize the rampant course the Galaxy had taken. He knew some of the teachings of the Sith as he learned of their ways throughout his years of training as a Jedi, he knew in order to succeed he would have to learn better yet adapt to the force. No longer following the will of the Force but bending it to his. This once again brought him full circle, for he had no want in taking part in the Dark Apothecary's amalgamations, but he needed to if he was to see his own interests bear into fruition. For in time, he knew that he himself could attain the mantle of a Dark Lord within the Sith and then set upon his own course.
Thrakk narrowed his eyes as the dust cloud billowed about them created from the great beast beating its wings and taking flight to wreak whatever havoc in Kessendra it pleased. He then matched Dragus's pace as the pair began to walk to the eastern edge of the city where they would then depart via the Dark Apothecary's transport. As Dragus spoke, Thrakk was innately impressed at the articulation he displayed, it was an eerie charisma to say the least and far better to endure than the stoic yammering he had listened to from others in the position of power in the past. Thrakk let a slight smirk cross his lips as he listened to Dragus and then spoke when his new Master had finished*
" Well I am glad that you have been satiated for the time being, a bite would surely spoil things "
*Thrakk did though have an idea that he would hope would begin to win him some favor in the eyes of Dragus. The game was afoot now and only need to play the part given to him*
" Your clones, especially the one I had fought are of great skill. They could be improved with genetic material from my home world, the Sun Guard are famed for their combat prowess"
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Post by Dragus on Oct 4, 2023 8:38:47 GMT -8
"Improved?" A leathery creak groaned from the stretched scales of the Blood Wyrm's brow as his right eye widened and his snout drooped into an irritable scowl. Intentional or not, the insinuation that the Dark Apothecary's alchemically altered creations were anything less than perfect was received as the gravest of insults. He knew well of the Sun Guard that served as the original template for Emperor Palpatine's royal guard. To a degree he even agreed with Thrakk, as both versions were warriors of rarely rivaled combat capability and skill, but they had also proven too highly independent for their own good. Kir Kanos, Carnor Jax, were to name but a few who ultimately turned traitor. Such traits were not easily bred out of a batch of clones, thus he had chosen a holo-drama star for exactly that reason. While typically possessing peak physical form, they also tended to not possess much between the ears, as it were. A blank slate to be imprinted with unwavering loyalty to the Sith Eternal cause. Kaminoan gene-craft, ranat science, and his own considerable mastery of the alchemical arts filled in the remaining gaps. Stretching out his right arm, Dragus dragged one of his razor tipped talons along the alley wall, eliciting a grating shriek like nails on slate as sparks skipped from the point of contact, carving a furrow in the duracrete brick.
"Tell you what, how'z about we leave the matterz of biomancy to thiz brilliant barabel and I'll sssave the ssswinging of lightsaberz to your expert handz, hmmm?" He pulled his claw away from the wall with a flick as they reached the alleys end and entered the streets, thick with smoke and stinking of scorched ozone from recent exchanges of blaster fire. The disorder of the invasion had given way to the despair of defeat, as crimson clad Sith Troopers led groups of captured civilians by gunpoint towards the centre of Kessendra, or New Dragusberg, as the Fanged Phenom was fond to think of it. Something to be worked out with Lord Valefor at a later date. Packs of hurry-scurrying ratmen picked through the dead, help themselves to whatever valuables they could stuff into the soiled pockets of their tattered robes before monstrous mutant ranat-ogres came by and hefted the corpse mulch onto repulsor sleds bound for the same place as the surviving citizens. No sense letting all that meat go to waste. "You should know, Thrakk, your mossst beloved massster iz in ssservice himssself to another az well. You sssee, I ssspent many a year beyond the borderz of civilized ssspace on....mmm, sssomething of a crusssade, you could sssay. The detailz hardly matter, but what doez iz the fact that upon my return I found myssself quite dessstitute, lacking the resourcez of my former empire. To continue my work, which iz of paramount importance, I required a benefactor to fund my resssearch."
By this point in time the Thyrsian would have seen more than enough emblems of the Greater Roon Remnant, emblazoned on a black background and flying from every flag and armoured shoulder pad of the soldiers going about their work. A facade meant to conceal the true forces at work in the Outer Rim.
"I belong to an organization, az do you now, known az the Sssith Eternal. Headquartered in a Ssstar Fortresss concealed within the depthz of the cosssmic dussst cloud known az the Cloak of the Sssith, it iz led by a council of myssself and sssix otherz, known only az the Council of Ssseven. Above it iz the benefactor of which I ssspoke, the Sssupreme Leader, an enigmatic sssorcerer with a great deal of power." He hissed that as though displeased by that simple fact. It chafed him to admit there might be someone more capable than himself. "We've been building an empire in sssecret, under the guissse of an Imperial remnant faction. No onez dared challenge our sssupremacy over the Abrion sssector and itz adjoining systemz az of yet, but it'z only a matter of time before sssomeone growz the stonez to give it a try. I relish the opportunity, az much of a dissstraction az it might be."
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Oct 4, 2023 17:40:29 GMT -8
* Thrakk didn't mean to ruffle his Master's scales in his attempt to try gain some favor, but it did lead into some further insight on the being that he would now be serving. It was made clear to him then that the Dark Apothecary had his own ideals of perfection in the alchemical arts. Thrakk paid close attention to the goings on around him as he walked with Dragus, the taking of captives and the pillaging of the dead. All which would typically done by those of the winning side, it didn't faze him. He had seen this all before, only except now he was a part of it and not fighting against it.*
" Then what shall you have me doing in order to further your designs "
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Oct 6, 2023 5:43:59 GMT -8
Pondering Thrakk's query, an eldritch amethyst light radiated from the multifaceted gem set in the leach lord's left eye socket, as neurons fired in his spice addled mind. The rakatan ocular implant had been hardwired to the scheming saurian's brain after he and his sand squire, Kr'Naan, had come upon a derelict starship of the old Infinite Empire found abandoned in the Ghost Nebula near Umbara. The duo had unwittingly stumbled into a trap, with each implanted with a different piece of arcane technology, which for Dragus was the unusual mechanism that had painfully supplanted his left eye. It had taken a great deal of time but eventually the learned lizard had unraveled the device's secrets. Rakatan technology was advanced for its time, but as He-Who-Hungers was fond of saying, their software was poodoo. His lips pressed together and pursed as he raised his snout and scraped a curved finger talon against his chin, causing scales to flake off as he seemed to visibly contemplate the question.
"That dependz largely on you, my curiouz companion." They were nearing the star-port by this point, which was overrun with brick shaped atmospheric assault landers and crimson clad Sith Troopers of the GRR 13th Legion, attending to various duties between the still smoking wrecks of civilian transports that had been blasted to smithereens before they could take off. Among the carbon scored ruins was a boat shaped gunship unblemished by the recent combat. It was an Amphibious Interstellar Assault Transport/infantry(AIAT/i), covered in a crimson coat of paint with black edging, with a pair of curling ribbed bantha horns attached to the turbines of its oversized sublight engines. He-Who-Hungered seemed to be leading the Thyrsian towards the parked vessel. "Dessspite our theological differencez, the Jedi know how to train competent warriorz, your combat skillz are not in quessstion. More ssso, I can sssmell the midi-chlorianz in your blood." His snout rattled as he inhaled a breath through his flaring nostrils slits, snorting, before hacking a wad of bloody phlegm onto the space-port tarmac. "The Force iz ssstrong in you. With the right guidance, in time, you could assscend to the upper echelonz of the Sssith Eternal. However, it will take more than ssskill with a lightsssaber and raw potential to do ssso."
Turning around, the stalking saurian Sith faced Thrakk, coming uncomfortably close until the former Jedi could no doubt feel his hot breath and got more than a nose-full of its rancid reek. His overlong tail slithered around from his backside, slowly encircling the Thyrsian as Dragus leaned in.
"Tell me, what are you good at? Hmmm? You're a deft hand with a lightsssaber, but what about a flight ssstick? What skillz do you posssesss beyond your ability to fight? Underssstanding your other talentz will help me decide how bessst to utilize your abilitiez."
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Oct 9, 2023 18:03:09 GMT -8
* Thrakks eyes slightly squinted as he took in the noxious stench coming from the Saurian's breath, and if that was not enough, he now had to deal with uncomfortable feeling of having his tail wrapped around him. He was truly in the embrace of death, and he was sure that Dragus had all the intention to make his time with him fruitful but far from enjoyable. *
" My talents were viewed by the Jedi as unorthodox as a result I spent most of my time in the order with my Master in the Outer Rim. Hunting for Sith Artifacts and seeing that they were destroyed or delivered back to the Temple on Ossus "
* Thrakk stopped to pause for a moment as he reflected on the memories of his past before continuing*
" After My Master was killed, I became a hunter a Shadow. Until the Order saw fit to reassign me to protection detail of the crystal caverns on Illum "
* Thrakk looked Dragus in the eyes, he focused on the Sith before him and not the goings on of the star port around them *
" I know the inner workings of the Jedi, and the few that are left will oppose you and the other Sith Eternal. Inside their Temples they may have objects of your desire. I can hunt them down and do so without yourself needing to be involved"
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Oct 11, 2023 7:31:55 GMT -8
By the sounds of Thrakk's explanation, the former Jedi was used to working independently as a lone operator. That certainly wasn't out of the question, but it would require a degree of trust that hadn't been formed between the two as of yet. While the ravenous reptilian highly doubted there was a soul in the galaxy that could resist his charm and potent compulsion, there was still every possibility that the Thyrsian was looking for a way to escape his current predicament. If he wished to be set loose, he would first have to prove himself. Fortunately the mad alchemist had an idea about that."And misss out on all the fun? Perish the thought, my boy." Said the serpent with a scowl, shaking his snout from side to side, misting the air between them with red flecks. He placed a claw to his chest, his lips twisting once more into his signature insincere smirk. "You'll find thiz Alchemical Massstermind iz not one to shy from getting hiz own clawz dirty."Turning, he uncoiled his tail as the slithering appendage rose to sway from side to side at his back, as he sought to draw his most recently acquired stray to the crimson coloured gunship parked before them. He continued to lead his new companion around to the rear of the AIAT/i, until the two of them were a half dozen paces from the raised ramp. He-Who-Hungers slipped a claw into the folds of his feathered robe, seeking one of several pockets concealed in the inner-lining. When he removed the limb from his cloak, he held in his palm a small remote, clicking a button on the black oval shaped device to elicited a chirp from the ship. Beep-Boop! A hiss of hydraulics and the groan of grinding metal harried their ear holes as the rear ramp unsealed and lowered to the tarmac, exposing the dark interior of the transport. Standing just inside at the top of the ramp were five small figures, none more than a meter in height, each unique in their own disturbing way.Furthest left was a greasy furred ranat with scabrous flesh, with a beady red right eye, while the ruined socket of its left was wrapped with a leathery man-hide patch. Its left paw was missing, replaced with a gnarly looking vibro-hook, marred with a rusty red rime. Its tail ended in a nub of scar tissue, and it wore a mouldering tattered robe. Clearly the rodent had seen better days. Next to it was a burly ewok with slightly greying chestnut coloured fur, broad of shoulder with brawny biceps. It too was missing an eye, its missing right orb concealed behind a patch of tanned gorax hide. Next to it was another ewok, emaciated to the point where its ribs protruded from its charcoal coloured fur, its malnourished form exuding the stench of grave mould. In its right paw it carried a primitive wooden spear with a jagged stone tip. It was known as the 'Ewok Spear of Powa!', in truth nothing more than a stick and a stone, though Dragus believed the device to be a totem of terrible power containing the might of ancient ewok magic. It was fair to say he had an unhealthy fear of the unexceptional weapon. Next to the skinny sentient bear was a stunted Rishii, barely more than a child by the standards of the species, with black feathers, wickedly sharp talons, and a beak with saw-toothed serrated edges. Finally furthest to the right was another ewok, unremarkable save for the fact that it currently appeared to be wearing a loose fitting tropical shirt, with a coconut drink held in its paw with a tiny umbrella sticking out of it. The ewoks eyes were a milky white, encrusted with cataracts, revealing the fact that it was blind."Welcome aboard the Bad Bantha." Hissed He-Who-Hungers, whose leering expression appeared pleased as he beheld the members of his Flock. "Allow me to introduce the memberz of my Flock. On the left there iz Squeakerz, my persssonal asssistant who I quite honessstly could not do without. Then there iz Lil'Bacca, Lil'Mort, Squawkerz, and lassst but not leassst, Lil'Havok. Lil'Havok servez az my persssonal chauffeur and az far az I am aware, the only blind ewok pilot in the galaxy. I'm ssstill not sssure how he doez it..." He queried aloud, scratching his chin with a talon until it bled, then offered Thrakk a shrug of his scaled shoulders. "...but he hasssn't crashed yet. Well, not lately anyway. Unfortunately I waz recently informed upon my arrival on Kesssel that he haz accrued quite a bit of vacation time and haz finally decided to cash it in. While I sssuggested he ssspend it on my tropical isle of Draggle Rock, he insssisted on a ssstay-cation aboard the ship. Sssadly we won't get a lick of work out of him for another three dayz."Frowning, the Famine Lord shook his head. Damn ewok labour unions. Again, he regarded Thrakk with keen interest. "That'z where you'll come in, my ssso-recently ssscarred asssociate. I require you to pilot uz into the Akkadessse Maelssstrom, towardz the Maw, ssso I might deliver my Potage aux Esssclave to a new friend found deep inssside that frozen rock choked debris field. I would do it, but conquering a planet iz tiring work, and I could do with a little R & R myssself."
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Thrakk Valinor
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Oct 21, 2023 19:11:02 GMT -8
* Thrakk takes a look at the assembled crew before him, hardly what one would think the cadre of Sith Lord would look like; but then again Dragus was no ordinary Sith. Following Dragus into the Ship, Thrakk takes the pilots seat and familiarizes himself with the controls. After a few moments, Thrakk is confident that he could pilot the vessel. He would labor these tasks for the time in order to secure the future power that lay before him. He knew his jounrey's with his Master would not be forever as once he attained the power needed to become a Sith Lord he could break free and be on his own. A thought he knew Dragus would know was coming. For Sith Master always knew that an Apprentice was asset but also a threat lying in wait. *
" Ready when you are"
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Oct 22, 2023 12:05:13 GMT -8
"One moment, lad." Hissed the saurian Sith with one claw on the back of the pilot's chair Thrakk was sitting in, the other resting on the co-pilots seat. Squeakers had settled into the chair beside the Thyrsian and slid a wired headset over his large mousy ears, flicking a few toggles with his vibro-hook as he assisted the latest in a long line of adventurers to assist the Dark Apothecary in his dastardly schemes and villainous exploits. "I ssstill need to prepare my inflight drink."
Exiting the cockpit, Dragus made his way over to the pantry and opened the miniature freezer, revealing a frigid duros severed arm, with all five long spindly fingers splayed with frozen rigor mortis. The black scaled barabel removed the arm from the fridge and placed it in a vibro-blender on the counter beside the storage device. He had to put a good portion of his weight on the lid to get it to close properly, then pressed the 'On' button with a curved talon and watched as the spinning blades inside pureed the limb into a frozen corpse smoothie. When the arm was completely blended, he turned off the blender and removed the cup from the base and poured its contents into a Sith iron chalice studded with flame jewels from the sea of Roon. He-Who-Hungers took a step back as he slid out the drawer beneath the counter, selecting a hollowed out lightsaber hilt he liked to use as a straw. He plopped the empty cylinder into the goblet and took the cup up in his right claw, then sauntered his way back into the cockpit. Dragus seated himself in the creaky leather chair behind the co-pilot seat, so that Thrakk could see him when he looked over his right shoulder.
"All ssset." Cooed the cruel crocodilian alchemist, before lowering his snout and wrapping his lips around his makeshift straw, sucking back a mouthful of frozen duros. He smacked his jaws in satisfaction before snapping the talons of his left claw. "Take uz out, number one." Number one? He probably meant Thrakk.
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Nov 3, 2023 13:15:25 GMT -8
* Thrakk rolled his eyes out of sight of his new Master as he gripped the controls of the ship and gradually ushered the vessel up into the air. With a few creaks and rattles that ship made during lift off soon began to lessen and then onl the sounds of the engines could be heard as Thrakk had become accustomed to the controls as the ship rocketed towards orbit. Thrakk was pleased that he was allowed to pilot the vessel, it gave him some brief respite from the Dark Apothecary and his motley crew. Allowing for the young Sith to reflect on the events that had just recently transpired and to find some sort of center within the darkside that was now seated deep inside of him and seeping throughout his body.
He was not in any sort of good mood to say the least but Thrakk did think about what the other Sith in the Eternal Order would be like and what they had to offer. He would not assign himself to just the Dark Apothecary, he would do his best to learn from as many of the other members of the Sith as he could. For Thrakk knew it would expediate his growth in power and knowledge of the Darkside.. But he could not sit idle and relish in his own thoughts or emotions for to long as he knew that Dragus would sense these feelings through the force and probably assume them to be some sort of misgivings. The consequences he would rather not deal with at the moment while confined to the vessel. Thrakk slightly turns his head towards his right shoulder and speaks out to Dragus*
" We are approaching orbit, how do wish to proceed ? "
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Dragus
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Post by Dragus on Nov 5, 2023 7:11:25 GMT -8
The intrepid company of villains adventure continues here.
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