Hoth's Open Terrain

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jun 27, 2023 12:32:18 GMT -8

Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jun 27, 2023 12:32:18 GMT -8

Kr'Naan sat cross-legged on the metal floor as she watched Endor squirm and talk to himself. She wondered what he could seeing in whatever fantasy his mind had concocted. Kr'Naan cleared her throat, coughing slightly and blinking as some of the potent smoke also effected her senses despite the cloth meant to protect her. Turns out lighting up inhalable hallucigens in a small space with almost no circulation with only a rag covering your face was not necessarily wise. Kr'Naan wished she had a gekko in her possession that could have assisted in a much less messy way.

"Rk cr'roc ur'k ur r'rur'rk."

^{"It would not be easier."}

When the tripping Tusken opened her eyes her grandfather was standing next to the hanging Endor, his hands together in his long sleeves as the eyes of his masked face stared down at his granddaughter. Kr'Naan, thankfully still in control of most of her faculties and aware of what was going on ignored the vision of her dead grandfather. Grabbing another cloth from the tables and dipping it in a water basin, Kr'Naan squeezed the rag and then moved over to Endor, crouching down and dabbing the burly and bleeding brigadier's sweating and bleeding face. She spoke softly to the former pirate quietly, paranoidly glancing from the corner of her eye at the specter that was still there. "Only Hakusar can save you. You have to believe. Then we "

"Urr'ruk rk ror'rc c'roo urk arf'r rk ur'eer'u. Ur c'roo urk uk'r'rf."

^{"Saying it aloud will not make it happen. He will not break."}

Kr'Naan remained focused on Endor, moving back to the basin and rinsing out the sweat and blood before moving back over to Endor and continuing to watch over him closely, trying to make out what he was murmuring beneath his breath. She gave in momentarily, speaking in the native Tusken tongue to the hallucination.

"Rr'r rkr urk kr'ro."

^{"You are not real."}

The representation of her grandfather seemed to wilt with sadness at this statement, lowering his head and slowly dissipating.

"Ur, urk rr'rk rk'kr'ruu rkr."

^{"No, but your actions are."}

Kr'Naan's face showed the anger she felt, though it was mostly directed at herself. Her own mind was playing tricks on her. As she stood up and was about to go re-soak the rag once more Snowfang came running in, panic in his voice. "Problem! Icetrompers not strong enough to pull Gorax up the mountain!" It took a moment for Kr'Naan to take in the information as her senses began to clear more and more. Suddenly Kr'Naan yelled and pushed the table over in anger. The bloodied water left a dark puddle on the floor and the various items atop the surface clattered to the deck loudly. If there was one thing that she did not wish to do, it was venturing out into the freezing chill of Hoth. "Wart." The snowcerer apprentice said, trying to calm the rampaging Tusken with slightly raised paws to not seem threatening. "WART!" Finally Kr'Naan stopped, huffing and teary eyed as her small frame could hardly contain the bursting emotion from within her.

The child of sand hated this world. Hated every single molecule of frozen water. With every fiber of her being she wished throguh force of will her mind could will the Suns from her world to appear in the sky and scorch this world to its bones after she was reunited with her master. Maybe after he reclaimed her he might grant such a wish. Kr'Naan's shoulders went slack and her breathing slowed as she continued to calm down. Finally the Tusken youngling addressed Snowfang. "Get these two down. But fill them with more moss smoke to keep them docile for the journey. I shall inform the others to ready the mounts." Kr'Naan looked over to Endor once more before wiping the sweat from her own brow with her sleeve. "Maybe nearly freezing will help you see the error of your ways. The only other option is death." Kr'Naan practically hissed, a menacing warning to the delirious druid before heading out to gather her faithful.

Eventually the Gorax's slow crawl would completely stop, the Icetrompers unable to advance any further, but by that time they were ready. Multiple chain gangs of snowoks, divided into groups of around ten a piece and led by tauntauns mounted by those who had made clear their allegiance in the Schism of the Lost Tribe. Leading the pack was Snowfang and Kr'Naan, atop a single adult tauntun with their own special cargo. Pulled along atop a cobbled together stretcher sled were Endor and Grimfang, strapped in shoulder to shoulder and both still wounded, their injuries largely untreated except to keep them from dying until divine judgment could be passed upon them. Redclaw had been separated from the two, heavily strapped down to another stretcher not because he was injured but so he would not cause any trouble.

Kr'Naan tightly gripped onto Snowfang's white fur, trying not to shiver uncontrollably as the snowok maneuvered their tauntuan and cargo up the precarious trail to the mountaintop. Trying to spy the top of the mountain from below, Kr'Naan could not make out anything through the growing whiteout of a new storm rolling in. Without thinking her eyes looked down at the ground below, also not visible because of the snowy wind. The acrophobic augur's stomach started doing flips, causing her to cling tighter to Snowfang, causing the snowok to chuckle. Kr'Naan scowled in response, not that the apprentice shaman could see her expression from behind. "I have fallen from the skies twice now! I would much prefer not to make it a third. I prefer my feet with something solid beneath them." As if summoned by her bringing it up, there was a rumble in the mountain. Almost instantly part of the cliffside trail they were on started to shake and collapse. With it two tauntuns, each with their own line of tied up prisoners, went falling with them.

Endor
New Rebel Alliance

"No man is good enough to be another's master."

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jun 30, 2023 5:19:44 GMT -8

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Post by Endor on Jun 30, 2023 5:19:44 GMT -8

Ghosts of the past walked with Endor as he and Grimfang were pulled along, strapped to a sled to serve as their gurney while they were carried up the steepening slope of the mountain, the snows deeper and the weather less hospitable the higher they climbed. Affected by hallucigenic moss smoke, the forest druid was still not completely there, lost in a cascade of visions conjured from the depths of memory.

He saw his brother Sigilius and all the battles they had fought against one another. Draven was there, with his wolfish grin, a hole in his chest where Endor had stabbed him through the heart. He also saw the old man Captain, his young tag-along Rook, the bartender George, and Ricky Bolt from Tibannapolous. Ton Grendal was there, Grizz, and Ashla. He squinted, trying to peer through the white snow blinding them from all quarters. He thought he even saw Pirate King Krall walking shirtless in the snow, occasionally taking a drink from a bottle of liquor. Brulax Ruso was there, along with the rest of the Rodian Jedi Order, including that ewok that connected to the Force by song. Lastly there was Kitana, who walked beside him the longest, holding his cold hand.

The abominable snowoks hummed a dirge as they ascended the icy mountain, urging the tauntauns to pull harder as the teams attempted to conquer the slope. Fortunately the members of the Lost Tribe were excellent natural climbers with their curved claws and great physical strength. The progress they made was staggering, far beyond what a team of modernly equipped human would have been capable of.

Around him the spectres from his past faded and were replaced by steadily marching ewoks, thumping spears on the ground as they almost seemed to be preparing for war. All the shaman of Bright Tree Villages past were currently present, each a titan in their own respect as the forces of nature answered their prayers, transforming each into a living avatar of the forest for their time. Staffs rattled with bone charms as these wisebears of ewok civilization used their badge of office like walking sticks, traversing the hostile snows with some difficulty. The ancestors were with them.

"Do you see them?" Whispered Endor hoarsely to Grimfang who was strapped down next to him. The wounded chief looked a bit under the weather. A jagged red line extended from beneath a patch of hide that was tied over the bloodied bear's left eye. Like Endor he had a number of wounds, most bound, but slowly healing. The grizzly snowok still retained consciousness though, despite his barely moving form. He looked in the forest druid's direction with his remaining eye, and nodded. Grimfang didn't see anything, but if it would satisfy Endor enough to let him go back to sleep then he'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear. Endor smiled and looked up at the sky, which seemed to be darkening overhead. "We do not fight alone. There is hope."

Across from them strapped to another sled, Redclaw squirmed and struggled with an almost endless supply of feral tenacity, like an itch that could never quite be scratched. Unlike Endor and Grimfang, Redclaw took his incarceration rather personally. When he got his claws free he was going to throttle the chiefs traitorous son and then use the little lads corpse to bludgeon some sense into Endor for not seeing what an obvious danger the dune prophetess presented. What's more, the scheming sand serpent had tricked a good chunk of his people into following her on this mad scheme. He continued to work at his ropes while Endor looked over at him. The General had closed his eyes and was trying to focus his mind through the obscuring drug induced haze, just long enough to share his thoughts.

Save your strength. We'll need it for the summit.

Redclaw stopped struggling, eyes slightly disturbed by the mental intrusion. Slowly he looked over at the sled carrying Endor and Grimfang, then settled back down on his own, no longer fighting. Meanwhile walking out ahead of the sled teams was Icetooth, his sorcerous staff projecting an invisible barrier out ahead of them that redirected the wind and kept the worst of the elements off of them while they continued to climb. The exertion was causing the older bear's fur to lightly smoke as the arcane currents he was constantly channeling throughout his body were beginning to burn him out. Still his eyes glowed an intense blue, crackling with barely contained power. The Abominable Snowcerer turned to face the tauntaun carrying Kr'Naan and Snowfang, taking its reigns in paw as they caught up with him. The single fang of Force imbued ice that replaced his lost tooth pulsated as he spoke, causing light to project from his mouth as he spoke.

"We must increase our pace." Cautioned the snowok shaman. "The skels blood sacrifice has sped up the Feaster's Stare. Look at the Feaster's Eye!" Icetooth gestured at the bluish white star in the sky that served as Hoth's only sun. Its edge had begun to darken as it entered an unusual period of its orbital cycle where all three of its moons came between it and the system's star, creating a partial eclipse that only allowed the merest mote of solar radiance through, appearing like a hateful red eye in the sky. The sun hadn't quite reached that extreme state yet but it was only a matter of hours at this point. Unbeknownst to Icetooth or any of the other snowoks among the mutinous party, the eclipse coincided with another very special event. The Feast Day of the Eye draws near.

Last Edit: Jun 30, 2023 5:24:24 GMT -8 by Endor

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 5, 2023 12:25:50 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 5, 2023 12:25:50 GMT -8

The slow climb up Mount Permafrost was slow and arduous given the returning storm, but as the eclipse continued and they made their way higher the winds seemed to wither before reaching them; held back by some strange and unseen power. Kr'Naan held a gloved hand up into the sky to peripherally observe the darkening skies, which took on a strange orange-ish hue as the light from the sun was mostly blocked out. Kr'Naan knew better than to think that the sun of this world was the Eye of her master, knowing that his divine form was far off and hidden from him. No, this was certainly his doing but Snowok shaman had that part wrong. Not that the alluvium augur bothered to correct the ice-fanged snowcerer. The cold of Hoth pierced her mind, dulling it slightly as Kr'Naan focused on reaching the peak, clinging to Snowfang as they dragged behind them Endor and Grimfang behind their tauntaun.

Still, the eclipse did see to give the snowok extremists even more proof to deepen their beliefs, they yipped and pushed their tauntauns harder, religious fervor filling their hearts and loins to keep their pace quick, or as quick as their non-practicing mounts would allow given that the limited semi-sentience of the beasts of burden they had not developed the concept of religion as of yet and were unmoved by the jibber jabber of the yipping snowok riders.

Hours passed before they finally neared the peak plateau, Kr'Naan caught herself holding her breath in anticipation and fear. Some had perished along the way, but the party was largely intact. The most important "guests" had made it anyway, at least in her opinion. Endor and Grimfang, drugged and drug along behind them, they seemed to both be alive. Still, perhaps checking on them would not be the worst idea. Ungripping her fingers from Grimfang's fur, Kr'Naan swiveled around atop the mount to face backwards, peering down at the prisoners and still potential converts. At least if she had anything to about it anyway. Hopping down with all the grace of a gliding galoomp directly onto the sled cart between the wounded snowok chieftain and rebel general, Kr'Naan leaned her head down onto the burly man's chest to listen for a heartbeat. Satisfied upon finding the romping rhythm of the tortured man's ticker, Kr'Naan lifted to inspect his face, which was covered in frost. Kr'Naan addressed both beings, but seemed to put the bulk of her attention onto Endor, whom the dune dwelling devotee had taken a greater interest in.

"We grow near the peak. Soon you shall face my master once more, but the circumstances are much different than the last time. Repent for your sin now and make this easier on yourself." As if to try and push him towards the edge, Kr'Naan slowly took hold of the still jutting knife and began to ever so slowly apply a twisting pressure to the knife sticking from the man's gut. "I wish it had not come to this, but I promise it is for your own good. I need to save you. But there is only so much I can do for you." Kr'Naan looked up at the darkening sky before continuing to speak to Endor, her eyes glued to the heavens. "He is coming. Surely you can feel it? Why continue to resist when you can instead meet him as a loyal follower?" Kr'Naan released her grip on the broken blade and looked back down at Endor, placing a gloved hand on his cheek. "You shall see! When you stand beside me in paradise all this hardship and pain will be nothing more than a distant memory!"

Wobbling slightly before steadying herself as she slowly stood up, Kr'Naan balanced her way across the struts connecting the tauntaun and the stretcher sled and back behind Grimfang. The snowcerer apprentice glanced back at Kr'Naan for a moment before his eyes moved further back to steal a glance at his father before turning his attention back to the final stretch of their journey.

Endor
New Rebel Alliance

"No man is good enough to be another's master."

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 5, 2023 18:25:40 GMT -8

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Post by Endor on Jul 5, 2023 18:25:40 GMT -8

Jul 5, 2023 12:25:50 GMT -8 Kr'Naan'Kar said:

"He is coming. Surely you can feel it?"

Endor could feel it, even through the pain in his gut as Kr'Naan twisted the knife blade embedded there, deepening a wound his body was already putting up a concerted fight to stave off infection. He could feel the steady pulse of the mountain as something deeply rooted in the Force was exposed there, venting its primal fury up into the sky. Near the summit of Mt. Permafrost the heavens above had become luminous with an ethereal blue glow that seemed to steal the warmth from the air. The closer to the top the worse it got. Even snowoks could be seen shivering or huddling together to share their body heat, as the harsh wind cut deep through the layers of fur they wore. The General shivered where he lay frozen on the sled, bound in rope and pulled up the slope like a bag of burden, feeling the cold bite down to the skin beneath. Slowly he drew in a breath, ignoring the rest of Naan's words which honestly were mostly an easily forgotten blur of drug induced memory loss. The natural flow of Force currents responded stronger here, answering his call more easily as he focused on spreading its power throughout his body to shield him from the elements. It was not a difficult feat, which was fortunate given his current handicap.

He was pretty certain he was strong enough now to break out of his bonds, but to do so would be a fruitless effort. If their close proximity to the mountains peak was allowing for easier access to the Force, thereby enhancing the druids strength, it meant the same could be assumed for Icetooth and Snowfang. He was confident he could handle Grimfang's boy without trouble but in his current injured state he wasn't so sure he could take on Icetooth and the others, not without his comrades freed as well. Grimfang and Redclaw were two of the Lost Tribes best warriors. Between the three of them they'd make short work of the traitors and put an end to this madness. Before that could happen he needed to figure out how to get them free.

There was another concern. His green eyes flicked up to the sky overhead, where the sun continued to darken and the sense of foreboding grew worse and worse. As he extended his druid senses to the universe and joined with the strands of energy that connected all living things, he felt something unnatural clawing at the edge of his perception, a malign force of utter wrongness that reeked of blood and radiated an oppressive aura of fear. There was something coming. A malevolent presence drew ever closer, creeping across the vast lifeless depths of space on its inexorable journey towards this ball of ice, coming for what purpose he couldn't say, though he doubted it had much to do with the Sand Child's religious fervour.

As they reached the top they passed through a permeable barrier of blue energy swirling around the peak in a vortex of barely contained primal power bleeding from the heart of the mountain. Exposed to their seeking eyes as they crested the summit, they could see the caldera that had formed from a meteor strike, transforming the top of the mountain into a massive crater. There at the center of what looked to be a gigantic formation of Force imbued ice was a towering Permafrost crystal the size of an AT-ST. With each steady pulse of the kyber stone's light, the Force energy swirling around the top of the mountain grew more intense. Endor, Icetooth, and Snowfang could see spirits swirling around in the bluish soul light. They saw the ghosts of shamans past that had joined with the greater energies of the universe, now a part of all living things. The air was practically electric to those with a Force connection. Endor chose his moment to act when he saw Kr'Naan and Snowfang turn their backs to him, both staring greedily at the giant crystal.

Strapped to the sled, the General's eyes began to glow blue as he reached out and took hold of those primal currents, channeling some of the wild power into his body. Endor sucked in a breath and then flexed every muscle he had, pulling his restraints taut until they snapped after a few seconds effort. He sat up and reached down to the knife blade in his side, securing a good grip on the broke edge before pulling it out in one unquestionably painful effort. He dropped the bloody shard to the snow and pressed a hand over the wound to staunch the flow of blood. A moment later when he pulled his hand away, scar tissue could be seen over the spot where the blade wound had been, rapidly healed by the supercharge of Force energy. Turning he reached over and snapped Grimfang's restraints next, helping the scarred chieftain sit up after being bound for several days. Lastly he raised an arm and extended his hand towards the sled with Redclaw, snapping the other snowoks binds with a telekinetic tug before quietly slipping off the sled.

They wasted little time disarming several of the mutineers of their weapons. Endor's lightsaber was lost to the snows of Hoth, but he planned to make due with a wooden spear topped with a conical shard of of Force imbued ice. Redclaw managed to secure a pair of daggers and Grimfang quietly pummeled the abominable snowok unfortunate enough to have taken his axe after they were betrayed. Weapons in hand, they approached the traitors silently from behind. It was Endor over the others who gave their presence away first, as the sense of impending doom led him to reckless action. He roared at the top of his lungs as he raced towards a wall of snowoks forming in front of Naan and Snowfang. Icetooth was off to the side, swirling his staff overhead as he began channeling a spell. Cocking his arm back, Endor hurled the spear in his hands as hard and a fast as he could, sending it hurtling into the shamans chest and flinging him over the side into the craters pit, his body falling several hundred feet to be broken on the rocks and ice below.

"FOR HOTH!"

In terms of a battle cry it left a lot to be desired, but it was mostly honest. They weren't fighting for the Rebellion against a fascist regime, they were fighting for the very soul of the planet.

Last Edit: Jul 5, 2023 18:29:27 GMT -8 by Endor

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 6, 2023 12:45:25 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 6, 2023 12:45:25 GMT -8

When they crested the peak of the mountain, Kr'Naan was momentarily blinded from the light emitted from within the impact crater that now rested within its center a large and mystical looking crystal. Kr'Naan squinted as her black eyes adjusted to the magical light before hopping off the tauntaun mount and slowly making her way down, leaving the rest of her furry pilgrimage to gather themselves atop the partially destroyed mountain. The exposed crystal reminded the dune disciple eerily of the one she had recovered for her master inside the ruins on the planet Pzob, although obviously much larger. But whereas there she had practically felt the crackle in the air, basically humming with magicks of the gods so intense even her lacking mind had picked up on, here she felt nothing. Why? What made this crystal different? Kr'Naan found herself standing before the crystal, staring deep in into the icy blue surface. She only turned her head to see Snowfang appear by her side. The shaman apprentice touched a paw to the blue crystal and closed his eyes as he concentrated for a moment. "Much power here. The prophecy was right!" Kr'Naan's black eyes turned away from the young snowok back towards the crystalline tower reaching into the sky.

Even as the prisoner uprising began behind her and Snowfang left her side to fight back, Kr'Naan's mind disconnected from the present and deep in thought as her naïve and young soul tried to discern the purpose of this marker before her. Not so much as turning around to see which side was winning, Kr'Naan continued to stare into the light of the marker planted before her. These crystals meant something to her master; that much she could put together since they had been pervasive in her time with him. Kr'Naan continued to wrack her brain, remembering the inscription from the ruins implanted by Dragus before their first adventure to Pzob. Something to do with the Celestials? Is the power Snowfang had spoken of when he touched the spire? But why could she not feel anything? It made no sense to her. In a desperate attempt to feel the power of her master that Snowfang had said was there, Kr'Naan ripped her gloves of and pressed her palms firmly against the frozen surface of the column.

Tears flowed down the sand child's face as she tried to force any feeling of her master's power to her, quickly turning into frozen droplets and falling to the ground. "Forgive me, Master! Please! I did not mean to betray you, I swear! Please come back! Do not abandon me!" Kr'Naan pleaded to the crystal as if it were a conduit to Dragus himself. Her ears strained themselves as they drowned out the yells and screams behind her, only truly listening for one thing and one thing only.

Dragus
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 6, 2023 17:21:10 GMT -8

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Post by Dragus on Jul 6, 2023 17:21:10 GMT -8

As a bloody mountain top battle erupted amidst the swirling vortex of Force energy, the sky darkened as the eclipse reached its apex, turning the blue tinged sky a hellish orange that seemed to cast the frigid ball of rock into darkness. Even the swirling storm of primal currents circling the giant permafrost crystal that served as the beating heart of the mountain seemed to stall as a cold chill quite unlike any on Hoth began to settle in over those gathered atop the windy peak. It started as a little red speck in the false night sky, growing larger the nearer it came, soon revealed above their heads as a massive ruby red sphere that glowed with an inner fire that raged beneath its luminous surface. A terrible slit black pupil peered hatefully at those gathered below, seeming to fixate first on the Sand Child begging for forgiveness, then slowly moving away as it glared in abject fury at the bearded general on the mountain. The meltmassif ore that comprised the hull of the Core Ship known as the Occulori pulsated, the unique alchemically suitable material acting as a transmitter, projecting the fear inducing aura of its hideous hungering master. The thrust nozzles of the spherical core ship could be heard roaring as it slowed to a stop, hovering two dozen feet over the crystal as its repulsors kicked up a frigid mist.

Atop the mound, the fighting had ceased as all eyes turned towards the bright red orb floating above them. Even Endor who could sense the raw malevolence radiating off the sinister ship was struck with silent awe, releasing the the treasonous snowok he had been choking with his strong bare hands. A hiss sounded as clouds of gas vented beneath the hovering orb, before a giant four clawed pincer attached to a rather thick Sith iron chain dropped like an anchor towards the ice blue permafrost crystal, jerking to a stop just shy of its jagged tip. The pincer claws snapped open as the chain lowered a few more feet, then those vice like claws snapped shut, getting a death-grip on the top of the crystal. Several more eruptions of gas sounded like machine gun fire as eight more chains attached to platforms dropped around the perimeter of the crystal, each with a lead-lined rubber suited warlock enginseer attached to the platforms with a safety harness. They held in their insulated paws large vibro-saws with gnarly sets of dragons teeth that snarled as they revved the engines. With coordinated precision the vermin began sawing away at the base of the giant crystal. Ice chips and crystal fragments blasted all around them as they made quick progress.

Finally a long curved boarding platform folded outwards from the lower surface of the Occulori as it extended its large boarding ramp. There was a ten foot gap between where the ramp ended and the top of the peak. While the sky was as black as the absolute dead of night, the interior of the sphere shone with an intense brilliance that was impossible to directly look at. Three dark figures formed of shadow appeared in the light, their image sharpening as they stepped out of the oppressive glow and took form at the base of the ramp. Standing there in fiendish fashion was none other than the Famine Lord, his feathered robe fluttering in the cold winds like a vultures wings. The top half of a rishii skull rested on the crown of his head, its jagged beak curling over the end of his snout. Held in both claws was the terrible black mace he had forged in the fires of Mt. Tawntoom, Exsanguinator. It projected almost an even more sinister aura than the drake that held it, possessing a hunger to match its master. The flanged head of the mace crackled with electrical fury as the twisted terrorsaur slid his scaled thumb over the ignition switch on the handle that brought the arcane science contained within its fume belching head to life.

Standing beside and in front of the dastardly draconian's long serpentine tail with its scorpion like spike were two members of the notorious shepherd's flock. Broad across the shoulder with chestnut coloured fur and a leathery patch over one eye was none other than the burly chested Lil'Bacca, the cycloptic ewok avatar of war, just off to the Famine Lord's right. His paws gripped the worn haft of a wooden mallet studded with broken teeth. He gave the morbid weapon a few warm up swings before resting it against his shoulder as his hooded form presented a bastion of strength next to his dark liege. To the villainous velociraptors left was the emaciated and dark furred ewok known as Lil'Mort, practically frothing at the mouth with yellow sputum as he glared at Redclaw with two merciless black eyes, flexing the claws of one paw in a series of sinuous pops while his other rested around a sacred totem. Gripped in the left paw of the ewok avatar of death was the ewok spear of powa!, a powerful artifact of the ewok tribes of the forest moon, though appearing as only a basic stick with a stone spear tip.

"Dragus!" Roared Endor, finally regaining sense of himself as he stared madly at the sinister serpent lord perched on the ramp of his corrupted core ship. It took all the forest druids effort not to give in to his anger, to find his peaceful centre so that the Force continued to use his body as a conduit for its benevolent power. Releasing a hot exhalation, the woodsman calmed himself with a cold breath of mountain air, quickly finding his spiritual balance. He extended a hand towards the snow, reaching a gloved hand towards a snowok frost axe buried next to its former owner. With a telekinetic tug he wrenched the axe from the ground and its handle flew into his outstretched palm. The Force imbued ice sparkled in his grip, growing more luminous as the General's strength flowed into it. Grimfang stood next to him, placing the butt of his vibro-axe on the ground and resting his paws atop the double faced axe blades. The snowok chieftain rubbed the back of a scarred paw against the hide bandage covering his ruined eye. The other he used to stare down his father.

"HAR! HAR! HAR!" Cackled the more commonly quiet Lil'Bacca as he returned his son's one eyed expression. Of course if it was going to be any member of the flock that had slept with a wampa ice beast, it had to be the most muscular beefcake among them. The wrathful bear nodded appreciatively at his son, who had become a tribal chieftain who had won his position through war and blood. It was fair to say he was proud of the little bastard, though that wouldn't stop him from bludgeoning him to death if he got in the way of his master. Lil'Bacca bared his fangs and beat his chest, pointing the tip of his mallet towards Grimfang in challenge. Opposite him Lil'Mort and Redclaw were making similar gestures at one another, practically chomping at the bit as they longed for the blood letting to surely follow. Everything seemed to wait on Dragus next words or actions.

"Yez, it'z me, father. A sssight for sssore eyez no doubt after you blew up my beloved Covenant of Blood and banished me to the ssspider dimensssion for thirty yearz." Technically only around a week had passed since the events of Salis D'aar, but time worked a little differently in the spider dimension. Something about being on the edge of a bunch of blackholes made time stand still, somewhat fitting of the colourless grey purgatory like dimension almost entirely void of life, save of course for the spider-folk known as charon. "Probably thought you'd never sssee thiz ol'lizard again, eh? Well clearly you underessstimated my vassst brilliance. I reverssse engineered a hyperdrive powered through alchemical meanz usssing rare ingredientz found in Otherssspace and fueled by processsed spiderz blood. With my new helldrive we broke through the dimensssional barrier, only to return to the dessstruction you wrought upon my beloved flagship and all itz expertly cultured parasitez. What'z more, I find you've gone and taken my mossst amusssing ssservant for yourssself. You Jedi are nothing but a bunch of thievez!"

A mist of steaming blood sprayed from the hellish Hakusar's wet lips as his jaws parted and his nostril slits huffed two ethereal wisps of smoke that briefly formed into spectral horrors before dispersing into the frosty air. The acrid stench of burnt ozone overpowered even the carrion reek that seemed to permanently cling to the vile serpent's scales, as the Famine Lord extended the crackling head of his burning mace towards where Endor stood, facing him down with a determined but ultimately foolish look. Endor hadn't been a match for him during their last confrontation. He had only gotten lucky because Dragus had expended so much energy in the fight against the corpse monster created from the citizens of Bakura's capital city. If Endor had faced him at his full strength, things would have gone quite a bit different, of that he was most confident. Now after three decades of training and study under his belt, he was a whole different kind of beast. Purple smoke belched from the burning brazier at the core of the mace, the narcotic fume a delightful blend of darkside infused spice that induced fear and caused horrific hallucinations as though one was in a nightmare. The Famine Lord took in a deep breath of the funky fog and exhaled a poisonous breath, his fangs glistening.

In the chaos of it, Squeakers sneakily snuck its way down from the Occulori, nimbly climbing down one of the wildly swinging chains the tinker rats with vibrosaws were hanging from. The rodent instantly regretted the decision it had made as its paws felt the frigid floor beneath them, almost recoiling but then quickly acclimatizing to the situation. It was a ranat. They were adapted to live pretty much anywhere. It scurried around the base of the crystal that was being carved from the mountain caldera, until its beady eye found the one individual it was hoping to see. Its fiendish rat face twisted in a sinister grin that exposed long yellow fangs that dripped with diseased saliva, whiskers twitching as its scabrous paw reached down to its waist where it wrapped a gnarled claw around the hide bound handle of a twisted shard of sharpened metal the rodent had taken from Darth Vader's Castle on Mustafar. The makeshift knife still possessed a potent stench of brimstone and sulphur, its edge brutal looking but deadly efficient in the paws of the rodent.

"DIE!" Roared Dragus. "Squeak!" Squeaked Squeakers.

Dragus, Lil'Bacca, and Lil'Mort leapt across the gap as they jumped passionately into battle against Endor, Grimfang, and Redclaw. While this occured, Squeakers charged towards Kr'Naan with its prison knife held out in front of it, foaming at the mouth while murder written in its remaining eye. It had vowed his revenge. First for what she had done to its tail, then for the eye. It had to hurry-scurry before she took its life next. Like a feral boar-wolf, the verminous assistant of the Famine Lord and the Sand Child's fellow flockmate, threw itself at her with murderous intent.

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2023 17:30:49 GMT -8 by Dragus

"Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself. Yes, I seek perfection. Perfection of body, perfection of mind, and perfection of the soul. Attaining perfection is the ultimate acquisition of power, and I crave power."

- Dragus, excerpt from the Book of Hate

Kr'Naan'Kar
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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 10, 2023 13:23:11 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 10, 2023 13:23:11 GMT -8

Kr'Naan took a few stps back from the permafrost crystal spire, so she could angle her gaze upward at the descending ship that resembled an orb, or better yet a giant eye removed from its socket. The Tusken child's mouth hung open in joyful disbelief. She took this as exactly what it was: her master had returned to the mortal realm and come to rescue her from this frozen rock, or so she believed. Kr'Naan covered her ears as the Occulori let out a series of booming sounds, a smile growing on her face as she could practically taste the aura of her master in the air. Being disconnected from the Force this was an impossibility, being a trick of the religious fervor that had taken over her mind upon meeting to dreaded drake. Kr'Naan eyes grew wide as the ramp lowered and she was greeted with the visage of not only that of her master, but what of the Flock was with him as well.

"MASTER!" Kr'Naan yelled as if even she could not believe her eyes. Despite the deviant dune dweller's mad preachings and sermons she had no way of knowing for sure the intent of her dark god or divining the future. Despite being called an Oracle by the snowoks, she was very much making it up as she went along. Dragus would be so proud, not that Kr'Naan would ever know. But her surprised exclaim was not returned, as Dragus seemed pre-occupied with facing the raging general that had moments ago been tearing through the ranks of the converted snowok tribals. Kr'Naan tried to get the attention of the repugnant reptilian by jumping up and down and waving her arms, but soon stopped as she strained to her the exchange between Dragus and Endor. Wait, did her master just call that human FATHER? Had Endor been telling the truth of her master's lineage? Did that make Endor a god? One of the twin suns, or another god, taking mortal form to interfere? Kr'Naan threw these thoughts aside as she focused on the descent of the Ranat Squeakers. They had been on bad terms since fate had brought her under the scaly influence of their shared master, but never in her time knowing the miserable rodent was Kr'Naan happier to see the ranat.

That lasted until Kr'Naan saw the flash of metal in the ranat's claws as he lunged at her.

Kr'Naan shifted to the right to avoid the strike plunging into her chest, but it was too late. The pair fell to the ground, with the Tusken letting out a scream of mixed rage and pain as the the twisted metal sharpened into a blade plunged into the side of her shoulder. The one-eyed ranat hissed triumphantly, preparing to lift the blade and finished the job. Unfortunately for the would-be ratssassin, that miss would cost him dearly. Gripping the ranat's arm with both hands and thrusting her legs up to wrap them around his neck to push his head and other shoulder away to keep him from fleeing or attacking for the moment. This unfortunately meant that the blade was still lodged in her shoulder and Kr'Naan's face showed agony fueled fury as the ranat attempted to pull away, causing the blade to move, but the tiny Tusken held firm her grip. With her only thought to remove the blade from Squeaker's hand, Kr'Naan opened her mouth wide and started tearing into the wrist of the now screaming rodent being. Steaming blood from the veins and meat she tore through the wiry appendage poured into her mouth and on her face and clothes. Twisting and contorting to keep the squirming ranat in a leg lock, screaming but unable to escape or effectively retaliate except to twist the blade in her shoulder. Each twist or motion of the knife in her shoulder only made Kr'Naan chew and bite her way through the ranat's wrist more quickly and painfully.

Finally the Tusken released the ranat from the leglock and quickly got up from the snow-covered ground. In her shoulder the sharpened makeshift metal knife still stuck out, except now Squeaker's hand, which had been separated from the rest of his arm, still grasped the hilt. The ranat gripped his new stump to stem the bleeding, screaming more curses at the sand child. Kr'Naan spit a mouthful of rat's blood onto the snow covered ground before quickly ripping the blade from her shoulder. Unwrapping each of the ranat's clawed fingers from it until taking hold of the separated paw. With little hesitation Kr'Naan flung the paw as far as she could throw it. Squeakers ran after his flying hand, but the Tusken child had a surprisingly strong arm, and all he could do was watch and curse even more as his hand fell off the side of the mountain and into the snow-covered rocky wasteland below, never to be found.

When Squeakers turned back to face Kr'Naan, he found the child of sand within a foot of him, and the blade she had taken from him at his throat. Her black eyes stared into his with a cold expression. This was where he would die; he knew it. The ranat Squeakers closed his eyes. Kr'Naan turned around and ran into the fray between the clashing factions. He opened them when the killing blow did not come, instead his eyes spotting and following the sand child as she navigated through the clashing factions to work her way to where Endor and Dragus were fighting, seemingly to the death.

Endor
New Rebel Alliance

"No man is good enough to be another's master."

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 11, 2023 7:02:20 GMT -8

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Post by Endor on Jul 11, 2023 7:02:20 GMT -8

Wood splinters and durasteel shards scattered across the snow at Grimfang and Lil'Bacca's furry feet as both burly chested woks of differing flocks let their weapons fly at one another. The gnarled head of a tooth studded mallet crashed against the battle dulled edge of an ancient vibro-ax, each hitting like a hammer, delivered by true war-smiths as neither brutal bear was willing to give an inch. Cracks formed in the ice as the heads of either weapon rang and the kinetic force of their strikes caused fractures beneath where they fought. Avalanches started across the mountain below, sending a white curtain back down to where they had abandoned the Gorax. Each veteran of a hundred battles used everything at their disposal, letting elbows and headbutts fly, raking at their foes good eye with a flexed claw. There was no hiding the family resemblance, they fought much the same, savagely and with purpose. The snowok chieftain fought with such ferocity that it stirred the memories of many of the snowoks that had sided with Naan in the coup, filling their hearts with shame that they could have turned on such a spectacular warrior who had led them through some of the worst moments of Hoth's bloody tribal conflicts. Many laid down their weapons and simply watched these two go at it, waiting to see which would falter first.

Redclaw and Lil'Mort's fight was less about power and more about speed. The abominable snowok tracker wielded a pair of ice-daggers like he had been born with them in his paws, fighting with the skill and precision of a Nar Shaddaa back alley cut-purse. Remarkably while each jagged blade had been sharp enough to slice through thick snowok hide mere moments ago, his pair of blades didn't so much as leave a notch in the seemingly less remarkable wooden stick gripped in the skeletal paws of the dark furred ewok, simply scraping off its surface as though striking stone or iron. The forest hunter returned the trackers aggression with a machine gun flurry of thrusts, the stone tip of the spear barely visible as the emaciated bear stabbed it in and out in rapid succession, occasionally swinging the butt end out to try and batter his foe. Lil'Mort however had found his match in Redclaw, whose knives came away wet with ewok blood after several exchanges, whereas the tip of the ewok spear of powa! remained unsoiled. The avatar of death was the first to slow, giving ground as Redclaw came at him with renewed ferocity, tearing out tuffs of fur and leaving lots of little cuts across his lithe form.

Finally there was Endor and Dragus, two mortal enemies locked in combat atop a mountain on frigid Hoth, trading blows with weapons not meant for mortal hands. The forest druid's frost axe pulsated in rhythm with the permafrost crystal the villains were currently cutting away at, trailing a mist of ice crystals in the air as he swung it about, smashing against the villain's smoke billowing mace with the force of a blizzard storm. Each time the dread weapons connected the mountain seemed to shake. Lightning crackled around the head of Exsanguinator in the drake lord's clawed grip, eviscerating the air molecules around it as the hellish mace screamed for blood, wreathing the fiendish draconian in smoke and shadow as the two men fought. Despite all the injuries he had taken on his journey across Hoth's icy terrain, the General still fought with the savage ferocity of a snow bear, delivering a jaw jarring punch across the black scaled barabel's snout after deflecting a sweep of the terrosaur's maul. Dragus spit blood and sulphur as he shrugged off the blow and came at his father with renewed fury, using his overlong tail to attack the hairy woodsman from more than one side at once.

What was less obvious between these two masters of opposing sides of the Force was the war waged between their auras. Light and the natural order fought against corruption and the Dark. Endor was a shining beacon of purity, Dragus a dark ink blot on the fabric of reality.

As the two warriors battled, a tiny flicker of movement at the corner of the Dark Apothecary's vision briefly distracted the hateful Hakusar, just long enough for the bearish Endor drive the Famine Lord to his knees with repeated overhead axe blows. Sparks and ash danced across the saurian Sith's vision as he was driven to his knees, forced on the defensive while his bloody orb continued to probe for the thing that lingered just beyond his complete perception. That was when he saw her, climbing out of the meteor-made caldera in her hilarious furred outfit, her pecan hued skin and black eyes unmistakable as his rakatan ocular implant analyzed the Sand Child's face. Kr'Naan, his precious little sand flea. For the desert despot it would have been only around a week or two since she had rested her eyes on the Famine Lord's scaled visage, but for Dragus it had been even longer, with the passage of time somewhat sped up in the spider dimension. To him he hadn't seen her in the better part of three decades, yet there she was, as perfectly pathetic as he remembered her. Dragus' teeth sank into his black gums, bleeding them as he grit his forest of fangs under the vicious onslaught of axe blows. A wet slurry of blood and steaming saliva tricked down his throat, delivering his rasping reptilian words from blood misting lips as more of a bubbling gurgle.

"Wart!" Exclaimed the Hungering One, even as Endor's rain of blows caused the ice to crack beneath his bent knees, each strike delivered with the force of winter's fury. Coincidentally the moment her name was spoken was the also the moment when the vibrosaw wielding warlock enginseers finally chewed through the base of the Permafrost crystal. As Endor snarled and smashed his axe into Dragus' mace, the glowing blue blade began to dim, shorting out in a fading flicker of luminescence. In a final act of desperation, the broad shouldered General wrapped both hands around the handle of the frost axe and swung it down with everything he had left, striking the edge of the blade upon the flanged head of the Great Devourer's mace. The moment the axe blade made contact with the Sith iron head of the maul, the axe shattered into a dozen frigid fragments, exploding in Endor's grip as the magic departed. Staring stunned at the broken handle in his gloved hands, Endor was unprepared for a jab from the Famine Lord's mace that doubled him over as it knocked the wind out of him, followed by a second stroke that sent the General rolling down the slope as electrical current crackled across his smoking flesh.

Dragus rose as Endor fell, not even deigning to watch his father's full demise as He-Who-Hungers only had attention for the black melon working her way towards him. The scheming saurian's scaled scowl split his fanged face as he removed his left claw from the haft of Exsanguinator and pointed a curling obsidian talon at the Sand Child.

"You are in ssso much trouble, Misssy!" Hissed the draconian venomously, lowering his burning mace down to his side, ignoring the other fights winding down as he towered over the tusken girl. "Don't think jussst becaussse I've been trapped in an alternative dimensssion for a few decadez that I have forgot about your punishment. And what'z all thiz?" He looked around as snowok fought snowok, though many of those duels were winding down as whatever power imbued their weapons with power departed when the crystal was freed from the mountain. Behind them, that large claw that descended from the bottom of the Occulori could be seen retracting into the Core Ship, lifting the giant crystal with it.

Without Hoth's power, the fight between Lil'Mort and Redclaw quickly changed directions, the ice daggers shattering in the trackers grip. Only Grimfang who fought with durasteel instead of Force imbued ice seemed to be holding his own, though even the chief was beginning to waver against a much fresher opponent.

Last Edit: Jul 11, 2023 7:11:54 GMT -8 by Endor

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 11, 2023 9:25:09 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 11, 2023 9:25:09 GMT -8

Kr'Naan had been prepared to jump into the fray of the fracas between Dragus and Endor, but was more than satisfied to see her master victorious in that moment, with Endor falling down the slope sparking with arcs of energy so intense it was visible to the naked eye. Kr'Naan lowered the knife as her master pointed a black talon at her accusingly. Kr'Naan took a step back, as if physically struck by the saurian sith's words. The child of sand's lips quivered and her black eyes swelled with barely contained tears as the finally confirmed she was not hallucinating or going crazy. Dragus was here, in the flesh. Kr'Naan ran at the sinister serpent and somehow before he could react wrapped her arms around one of his legs, embracing his scaled hide and ugly crying into his feathered robe. "Master! You're here!" She practically squealed in glee through sobs and snot.

Practically needing to be peeled from his leg, Dragus gripped the Tusken younling by the nape of the neck of her hooded winter garb and plopped her down to glower at her. Quickly wiping her face Kr'Naan cleared her throat and did her best to explain. "I brought these here as a present to you, master! New followers for your cause and sacrifices for your entertainment!" Kr'Naan stammered slightly trying to keep herself composed as she quickly recounted the past week's events as fast as possible to Dragus. "You were gone and that man kept me in a prison to try and break me, but I did not break. I stabbed him. Twice! He brought me here, and I saw these creatures!" Kr'Naan did a twirl, gesturing at the fighting snowoks as she spun. Blood from her shoulder wound flew out from both the wound and her arm where it had been trailing as she did so, adding more dots of crimson to the spreading sanguine coloring the ground had been doused with, but it did not seem to bother her. When she finished her spin she continued. "I saw the resemblance! They are descendants of Celestials! I then knew this was all part of your design! I was meant to be here, to find these lost children and bring them back under your control!" With her uninjured arm she did a so-so gesture, her face scrunching anxiously. "Could have turned out better, but some is better than none, right?"

Kr'Naan's eyes widened with fear as her master cracked his tail. "I did not know about the true identity of the human! I thought I could turn him, make him see that yours is the only way, but I failed. It's his fault! He hid his true identity as a god from me to try and trick me! He told so many lies of you, how could I have possibly known he was weaving some truth in them?" Kr'Naan did her best to remain upright and seem strong, but the more Dragus's eyes stared at her, she felt herself shrink. "Not once did I doubt this was all your will, master! I never faltered in following the destiny you laid out for me. Please, forgive my shortcomings. In my ignorance, I could not see the entire path you lovingly created for me to follow."

Kr'Naan sniffled to try and compose herself some more before taking a knee and bowing her head. "If I cannot have your forgiveness, then I shall accept my punishment." Kr'Naan said quietly as she closed her eyes and lowered her hood before tilting her head down further to expose her neck. An act of pure devotion and belief, the Tusken extremist's willingness to offer her master the easy time of removing her head from her shoulders should be deem it so.

Dragus
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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 11, 2023 10:54:05 GMT -8

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Post by Dragus on Jul 11, 2023 10:54:05 GMT -8

While Naan groveled and prostrated herself before his dark resplendent scaled form, he could not deny briefly considering dragging his serrated tail spike slowly across her throat until her delightfully pecan hued flesh opened in a red gush of delicious crimson vitae. The reprehensible reptilian's overlong tail even lifted into the air as though it were about to drop like a guillotine blade against the back of the tiny tusken's neck, but the killing blow never came. It was only a sadists desire that tempted him, not true disdain for his pitiful puny pet, who even in captivity seemed to have cobbled together a primitive force of furry curiosities that tickled his scales in all the right places. Instead his animated limb slipped the glistening face of its blade beneath the Sand Child's feet and began to coil beneath them, raising Kr'Naan up to eye level with the mad drake as his slithering length formed a platform upon which to stand.

"Foolish child." Hissed Dragus, misting her frosted pecan complexion with red warmth. "Death will not bring an end to your ssservice. You are mine, Wart." A rumbling growl sounded from somewhere in his throat as his forked tongue flicked and steam clouds formed with every hot exhalation of rancid breath. He prodded her in the chest with a claw as he said it, pricking her ever so slightly so that she would remember his words. That was when his nostril slits flared as he scented her wound. Without seeking permission, Dragus grabbed the girl's injured arm and extended it, examining the knife wound where Squeakers had stabbed her. His nostril slits flared again as he brought his snout close to her face, before leaning back as his scaled lips twisted into a sinister black smile. "I waz about to admonish you for taking injury without my expresss permisssion, but sssince Squeakerz iz the culprit I sssuppose I'll let it ssslide thiz time. Siss, Siss, Siss!"

The rat blood on her lips might have appeared much the same as any other, but the powerful olfactory senses of the hissing Hungering One were able to determine not only the chemical composition of the metallic scented substance, but also to whom it belonged. Dragus had drank enough rat-blood over the years to be something of a connoisseur.

In the background behind him, the walker sized crystal disappeared into the undercarriage of the Occulori, its power completely faded by the time it disappeared into those glowing red depths. Squeakers could also be seen, nursing a frozen stump where his paw used to be as he rose up into the ship on one of the chained platforms the tinker rats had used. Next to them, a loud clang sounded as Lil'Bacca sent Krakenmaw flying from Chief Grimfang's clawed paws down into the caldera. The grizzled leader of the tribe dropped to a knee, panting heavily as his father raised his chin with the head of his tooth studded mallet. Grimfang looked back at him, his face a mask of feral fury, even as his eyes accepted his fate. Redclaw dropped into the snow beside him, bleeding from a dozen wounds now that Lil'Mort had the advantage again. Both flock members stood with their weapons ready to deliver the finishing blow, but halted at the last minute, their beady eyes locked on the sinful sultan who had fixed his own mismatched gaze upon them in turn.

"You brought thessse here for me?" Queried the Hakusar curiously as he studied the snowok form. His shoulders swayed from right to left as he stalked, more raptor than man, his movements unnatural. As fear fume followed his smoke wreathed figure, still belching from the burning brazier at the heart of his miserable mace, the Famine Lord stood in front of the two defeated snowoks. He brought a claw under his snout and scraped at his chin until a few red beads formed on its tip. "But not all of them, hmmm? Thessse two ssstill resssist. How terribly disssappointing." Then without warning, his tail spike plummeted towards Grimfang, striking the bowed little bear square in the centre of his chest where it burst out his backside in a welter of gore that erupted across the snow.

"NO!" Growled Snowfang in tribally accented ewokese, racing towards the lip of the caldera at the mountain's peak as the monstrous draconian swung his tail around in an attempt to free the fresh cadaver threaded through its length. The chief's holed body slid wetly from its dripping end, deposited unceremoniously into the pit below. Lil'Bacca stepped in front of the racing Snowfang and smashed the shaman-in-training to the snow with a sweep of his mallet. The avatar of war then stood over his crumpled grandson and placed the studded head of the mallet against the side of the young snowoks head, again, waiting for a sign from Dragus.

"No touching. Siss, Siss, Siss." A forked tongue slurped up a steaming gooey rope of salivation from his lips before it soiled his feathered robe and turned to slush. He delivered an unnecessarily harsh kick to Snowfang's side before then placing a foot down on the chalk white furred chest of the dead chief's son, slowly squeezing the air out of the little lads lungs, his toe talons on either side of the snowoks throat. Dragus then turned his snout, regarding the rest of the snowoks that had joined Naan up the mountain. There were maybe a dozen left after all the fighting, with numerous snowok bodies littering the peak of Mt. Permafrost. Dragus directed a dirty talon at Redclaw, who had been glaring knives at him since he had murdered Grimfang. "Now what shall become of the ressst of you? Hmmmm." He tapped a toe talon ponderously, stabbing Snowfang in the shoulder painfully each time he did so. The little bear squealed beneath his foot, until he ran out of air.

Certainly he could appreciate the trouble his tusken ward had gone to on his behalf, but sadly there was really only one opening in the flock at the moment.

"I'm afraid there iz not enough room upon the ship for all your new friendz." There was, there was even enough room to bring the icetrompers if they wanted to. "Ssso here'z what we'll do. That one..." He indicated Redclaw with his tail tip. "...may live, to ssspread word to the ressst of hiz kin of what transsspired here." He leaned towards his fur clad pupil. "Make a note of thiz, my child. Alwayz let at leassst one live." Honouring his word, Lil'Mort and Lil'Bacca stepped away from Redclaw and allowed the injured snowok to retreat down the side of the mountain. The bear swore his revenge as he departed, leaving the remaining snowoks to deal with.

Seeming to read his thoughts, the Occulori hovered a little nearer until the ramp reached the peak and came level with where they were all standing. Two warlock enginseers, tinker rats from tech-obsessed Clan Rustrot, walked down the ramp carrying the nozzles of heavy flamers in their paws. Large fuel tanks were strapped to their backs and the pilot light on the barrel of either flamer was ignited. They pointed the dragon themed nozzles of their weapons at the crowd of gathered snowoks who were still staring in bewilderment.

"Az for the ressst, you may pick one to keep. Even thiz one if you prefer it." He said, lifting his raptor like foot off Snowfang's chest and gave the little bear another kick that sent him rolling over towards the others. The shaman-in-training coughed up frost and blood, tears turned to ice crystals weeping from his eyes. Dragus stared at the crowd and licked his terrifying teeth. "Then give the order to dissspose of the remainder, my faithful and oh'ssso'loyal little Wart."

Last Edit: Jul 11, 2023 11:04:01 GMT -8 by Dragus

Kr'Naan'Kar
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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 13, 2023 11:26:07 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 13, 2023 11:26:07 GMT -8

Keeping her head down, Kr'Naan shook it slightly. "Of course not master, but my life is yours to take if you should will it. Even beyond death I shall serve you. My soul is yours." Something seemed to have changed within the Tusken youngling. Dragus may have noticed some changes before the incident aboard the Rakatan ship and the whole corpse-monster on Bakura, but the child of sand had acclimated well to her new environment. Her demeanor had settled as her acceptance of her circumstances grew, but this was different. Her experience on this frozen ball had changed her. She had been outside his watchful eye for more than a week and had operated largely independently, self-maintaining the lie of the dreaded draconian's divine origins and even bringing half-wok mutants to massacre each other in celebration of his arrival.

Yet despite having the wherewithal to accomplish such things the sand flea still knew her place.

Kr'Naan remained knelt before Dragus, remaining silent as he observed the surrounding snowok battlefield, only speaking once spoken to. "All for you, master. To do with as you see fit." Still remaining knelt in the snow, Kr'Naan didn't so much as flinch as Snowfang screamed. She already knew what had occurred, without looking up. She had told the snowcerer apprentice that he had until her master returned to convince him to join their side. Finally as Dragus walked away to torment the beaten down snowok Kr'Naan stood, her black eyes glowering down at the snowbear with the cold glowering of disappointment. She stopped at the side of Dragus, a few feet away, standing silently as she let her master decide the fate of all within his area of influence. Even allowing Redclaw gave her no reaction. Her master's word was absolute, whatever he said was divine decree.

But then came the order to dispose of all but one of the snowok tribals, even those that had survived and pledged their loyalty to her movement. Kr'Naan's eye and lip twitched slightly, hesitating as she surveyed the surviving snowoks before her eyes finally settled on Snowfang. Her cold glare of disappointment was now tinged with anger as she placed the blame for this turn of events on the shaman apprentice's shoulders. If he had done his duty and turned his father to their side, in her mind all his people would have been welcomed into the fold once more. But that onus ultimately fell to her.

She had failed.

The Tusken's shiny black eyes turned flat and devoid of emotion for a moment. Kr'Naan lifted her chin high and turned away from Snowfang and the other snowoks. Snowfang's tears turned from sadness to anger as he watched "There are none worth keeping, master." Beyond the knowledge of the event, there would be no living reminder of her failure. Lifting an arm up with a balled fist to signal the tinker rats. The roar of the nozzles idling as they were primed. Kr'Naan brought her arm down quickly in an almost chopping motion, her back still turned. A single tear escaped her eye as she fought against the emotions stirred up by her believed failure, trailing through the smeared ranat blood and snot already on her face.

Dragus
The Sith Eternal

In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 14, 2023 7:57:45 GMT -8

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Post by Dragus on Jul 14, 2023 7:57:45 GMT -8

As the order was given, both apron wearing rodents squeezed gnarled digits to the trigger of their heavy flamers, unleashing twin curtains of immolating fire that quickly consumed the snowok sacrifices, so intense it stole the screams from their flash-seared lungs. Transformed into pillars of black ash, their remains were scattered by the air curtain kicked up by the Occulori's repulsor-lift. The heat briefly dispelled the bitter cold all around them, though the second the fuel supply was cut off everything became inhospitably frigid again. A rime of frost was beginning to form on the yellowed skull cap the drake lord was wearing, clear enough a sign that they should be off from this hostile place.

Reaching down, Dragus placed a comforting claw on Kr'Naan's shoulder as he watched the progeny of his one-eyed flock-mate become cleansed from the mountain top. "There. All iz az it should be." He hissed approvingly, then turned towards the ramp of the glowing red Core Ship. "Allow me to be the firssst to welcome you to your new home." Holding his dreaded black mace out to the side, the saurian Sith offered the weapon to the burly ewok cyclops, Lil'Bacca. Even the furry avatar of war seemed to struggle to carry that malevolent maul. With his hands free, He-Who-Hungers extended his claws out to the sides as though attempting to wrap them around the hovering ship. "Thiz iz the Occulori, one half of the Haemonculuz Occulori, my mobile monssster maker and alchemy lab. Come, Wart. I shall give you the grand tour."

For all its differences, the Core Ship lacked for none of the Covenant of Blood's charm. While the majority of the Dark Apothecary's bestial servants and mutant creatures were penned aboard the ring carrier, the core ship had been transformed from warship to laboratory, housing many of the Blood Wyrm's ongoing projects.

Stalking up the ramp, the Famine Lord led his flock of followers back aboard the fortunately climate controlled vessel that while utterly bizarre, was most welcome with its warmth. Lil'Bacca and Lil'Mort took a moment to become reacquainted with their tusken flock-mate, poking and prodding her before ultimately embracing her, taking turns to offer her a fuzzy hug. Once inside, Kr'Naan's senses would be greeted with an endless series of insane sights and sounds. The central length of the Occulori had effectively been hollowed out, with a large open space in the centre that ran almost to the very top of the spherical ship. Each visible floor appeared to be taken over by shelves of books or alchemical ingredients, bubbling beakers and steaming cauldrons, which was only to name a few of the things more easily described. As with the Covenant, ranats could be found scurrying back and forth, or floating from place to pace atop hovering repulsor platforms. Absent a functional tubolift system, the vast majority of the rodent occupants of the core ship seemed to get around in this way, though Dragus had something else in mind for he and Wart.

Upon entering through the main ramp, they were greeted by a pair of sulphur smelling night ewoks that offered the Great Devourer a silver platter with steaming mugs and a set of reigns connected to a land-speeder sized nadir spider. The five red eyes of the arachnid stared at Dragus and Naan with a sort of cold intelligence, as acidic saliva drizzled from its beaked insectile mouth, smoking where it ate through the deck. Fitted to the riding-spider's back was a throne crafted from bone and sinew. It creaked as the deranged drake climbed onto the spider's back. He turned and offered Kr'Naan a claw up before seating himself in the bone-throne on the spider's back with the tusken seated in Dragus' feathered swathed lap. After taking the reigns from the second night ewok, he accepted the mugs from the first, handing one to his child-slave. Inside either cup was a mixture of mulled blood, spotted with savoury herbs and spices, with just a hint of metallic aftertaste. It might not have been her first choice but at least it was hot. He stamped a foot down hard on the spider's back, sinking his foot talons into its coarse chitinous flesh, which caused the five legged arachnid to scurry forwards.

Last Edit: Jul 14, 2023 10:10:24 GMT -8 by Dragus

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 18, 2023 10:11:34 GMT -8

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Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Jul 18, 2023 10:11:34 GMT -8

Remaining silent as Dragus palced a claw on her shoulder and guided her inside the Occulori, the warm interior of the altered core ship causing the forst built up on her clothes to melt within moments. The white furred garb became moist and smelly(er) as the temperature increased. The Tusken youngling seemed to shrink as her Ewok flockmates inspected her, but was caught off guard as instead of rejection she expected due to her recent failures, not knowing decades had passed for them in the week they had been separated. Kr'Naan gladly returned the embraces of both Lil'Bacca and Lil'Mort heartily, a shimmer in her black eyes from the happiness she felt at being welcomed back.

The large spider made her uneasy as she was reminded of previous encounters with arachnid creatures on Pzob, but Kr'Naan knew she was in no true danger so longer as her master did not wish it so. Taking hold of the extended taloned hand of Dragus, Kr'Naan let out a surprised gasp as he quickly swept her off the ground and onto the spider's back and seated on the barbaric barabel's lap and a mug of mulled blood thrust into her hands. Not even caring what the contents of the cup were she downed the warm beverage greedily. The piercing cold of Hoth was something she wanted to rid her senses of as soon as possible. The jostle of the nadir moving forward caused her to spill some of the blood beverage onto her face and dripped onto the furry clothing she wore, but thankfully none spilled onto the feathered garments of Dragus. Kr'Naan wiped the spilled ichor with a sleeve, smearing the residue across the sides of her mouth.

As Dragus began to boast and bluster, giving the child of sand a complete intricate description of the Occulori's insides far beyond her understanding, her mind began to wander. Even seated on the scaly knee of her master she could not feel his presence as she had before. Besides that, he seemed to be acting strange given the circumstances, as if nothing had happened. She had so many questions regarding the true nature of Endor, whom Dragus had acknowledged as his father. About what had happened on the world they had been separated. The exhaustion of her adventure and the soothing warmth of the spiced blood caused her eyelids to grow heavy. So many questions, she continued to think. Finally her head tilted back and she gave into the feeling of safety and security, coupled with the exhaustion of her journey back to Dragus she had fallen into a peaceful sleep, complete with a small trickle of drool as time went on.

Dragus
The Sith Eternal

In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.

Posts: 1,409
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Hoth's Open Terrain Jul 19, 2023 7:51:21 GMT -8

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Post by Dragus on Jul 19, 2023 7:51:21 GMT -8

As Kr'Naan rocked to sleep in the arms of the devious draconian, the Occulori sealed itself against the elements and blasted off from the top of the mountain, heading back into the vast empty blackness of space.

Our villains adventure continues here, several weeks later.

Last Edit: Jul 19, 2023 7:53:18 GMT -8 by Dragus

Endor
New Rebel Alliance

"No man is good enough to be another's master."

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Hoth's Open Terrain Aug 20, 2023 12:48:46 GMT -8

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Post by Endor on Aug 20, 2023 12:48:46 GMT -8

A sharp pain jarred Endor away, his wild eyes going wide in shock, his mouth agape even as the pained gasp caught in his throat. Everything hurt and he was beyond exhausted, pushed past his limit and then some by the journey. Naan... He grit his teeth bitterly. He should have seen her for the serpent she was. Everything that demonic lizard sank his crooked claws into became utterly corrupted, no exception, he knew that now. A different sort of strength flowed into his limbs as he gave into anger, his eyes glazing an insidious yellow. THWACK! Another jarring jolt of pain surged through his body, radiating from his side where he had been struck for a second time but what felt like a wooden pole. The General grit teeth stained pink and rolled over onto his side, observing for the first time a familiar furry face. Standing there in the snow with a wooden spear haft in his clawed paw was none other then Redclaw, the only Abominable Snowok to make it off the mountain.

"Redclaw!" Whispered the General hoarsely, feeling weaker than ever before, yet relieved to see his friend still lived. Endor had felt what had happened to Grimfang, and then Snowfang after that. Naan, why? You had a choice. You chose evil. His hands balled into fists. You chose wrong. "She chose wrong." THWACK! "Ow! Damn it, Redclaw. Enough with the stick. I'm alive, I'm awake." He grunted, forcing his body to roll once more onto his stomach, groaning as he forced himself up to his feet. At first the outer of place forest druid swayed unsteadily on his feet, struggling even to stay standing after the ordeal he had just suffered. As he cast his vision back towards the top of the mountain, he could see that the terrible red ship his wicked offspring had rode in on was gone, and with it the source of Hoth's sacred ice magic.

That was why Redclaw no longer carried a spear, but now held a stick instead, the former magical leaf shaped tip having shattered when the permafrost crystal that served as a conduit of the Living Force was severed from the planet. Growling in frustration, he exhaled a steaming breath and looked further down the mountain towards the last known location of the Gorax. If they wanted to have any hope of returning to Echo Base alive, they'd need to find that Snowcrawler before night set in. The pair of druid and snowok hurried down the mountainside, starting the long trek home.

Last Edit: Aug 20, 2023 12:49:28 GMT -8 by Endor