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Post by Shaman Odin Alfodr on Feb 26, 2013 22:46:26 GMT -8
*A harsh world of tundra and ice, Arkania was able to sustain life and civilization despite the harsh climate. Deep underground, the planet was filled with diamond stores considered extremely valuable by those on the surface, resulting in the excavation of extensive mines across the world.*
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
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Post by Darth Belial on Feb 10, 2014 18:20:19 GMT -8
“I think we found it!” She bellowed over her shoulder, letting her voice echo throughout the man-made tunnel. The acoustics of her voice ferried the sound along the length of the plasma scored walls, passing the rest of her dig team as they made their way towards her location. As the sounds of her comrades boots carried them ever closer, the woman turned towards them with an excitable look painted across her face. “Airen,” One of her associates started, before her teeth begun to clatter together in response to the inhospitable cold seeping into the dig site. “You’ve been saying that for months now. As if Arkania didn’t have it bad enough, what with the war and the sinking of Adascopolis, you’ve gone and drilled seventeen holes into this mountain range alone.” Airen scowled as her eyes fell upon the speaker, a cowardly man that had no right to be a part of this expedition. It was her dreams that had led her to this sundered world, and it had been her Uncle’s credits that saw this adventure fully funded with all the equipment and transportation she would require. The fact that her Uncle’s only condition was to bring along her worm of a Cousin, Airen knew it was a worthy burden to bear. “A few kilometres of planetary crust won’t threaten what remains of the planet. As long as what lies on the other side of this rock formation isn’t the frozen core of this Ice ball, we’ll be fine.” Darmani sighed, heavily. “This better be it, Airen. My father was a fool to let you go off on a trek across the galaxy on a damned quest to find some hidden archive that you saw in your dreams.” Turning her back upon her doubtful kinsman, the woman palmed the surface of the smooth rock face; feeling the flickering ebbs of the laser drills heat rush through her gloved extremity.
For nearly a year, this frozen wasteland had haunted her in ways she could not explain. At first they started out as vivid flashes, images that slowly began to infiltrate her thoughts. She would see the sunken city of Adascopolis before it had been put to the torch, streets filled with row upon row of corpses. She believed this to be a horrid glimpse of what was to come, that this so called ‘Force’ had given her a portent as to what was to come. Due to the brutal sight of the gore flecked scene, she had believed it to be a system that was swept up into the varied atrocities of the Second Mandalorian Crusade. Yet as the image began returning every time she had closed her eyes, Airen noticed that upon closer inspection, the fallen corpses weren’t entirely human. They were Arkanian and piled up in large numbers, suggesting that wherever this image was had an abundance of people belonging to that species. Then as if her dreams had a life of their own, the image changed into a view of a snow capped mountain range with a monastic like structure nestled between two of the peaks. She noted that the design was similar to the ancient Jedi temples upon Tython, but through further unconscious study Airen had noted something wasn’t right about this image. The waves of serenity she had felt when the images changed to that of terror and horrors beyond imagining. Fires had broken out across this mountain retreat, leaving her to believe that the fortress was besieged by some titanic entity.
Pulling herself out of the darkness, letting the lingering traces of the mind fire sputter out, Airen removed her palm off the rapidly melting wall of ice. Her excitable smile had faded slightly as she began to back away towards the surface. There was something not right about this place, despite the sudden and irresistible desire to proceed into the depths of whatever lay beyond. Her trepidation was well founded, as no matter how hard she wanted to abandon this expedition, there was a force within her mind that saw to emboldening her towards her purpose. Like she was an observer within her own flesh, only to watch as her body was strung along like a marionette. Forcibly tearing her gaze away from the trails of water running down the length of the frozen barricade, Airen moved towards the lip of the expanse created by her Uncle’s drill; letting her mind wander over what dwelled within the heart of the mountain…
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Murmur
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Post by Murmur on Feb 11, 2014 21:05:51 GMT -8
Just as her charge felt compelled by a force she could not explain, so did she, herself.
It was not in her typical wont to take on security detail, but as soon as Murmur saw where this girl was headed she knew that she had to be a part of the journey. Whatever was on Arkania enticed her with the promise of the fulfillment of ambitions she’d long harbored. Standing there, just behind her charge, she remembered well that day a year ago when she gave into the overwhelming urge to follow this girl. Even now, that same, breathless feeling surged within her saurian veins, just as vital to her as her life-blood. It was akin to a joy she’d not felt since her early childhood, but this feeling was deeper and far more satisfying. She hissed quietly to herself, and flicked out her tongue to sample the air around her. The atmosphere was sodden with anticipation, but Murmur’s charge added the distinctive spice of wakening, confused dread. The taste was mouth-watering, kindling her instincts, forcing her to exert real effort in order to keep herself in check.
To distract herself, she stepped closer to her charge, trying to ignore how tantalizing nearer proximity made the girl, and spoke, “Thissssssss one hassss confidenssssce in your ssssskillsss.” Again, she flicked her tongue out, this time tasting for the presence of what they sought. It was just there. Lying at the edge of her awareness, the unmistakable, ferric taste of blood and power bit at her taste buds. Thankfully, it helped to curb her predatory instincts somewhat. After a moment spent collecting herself, she continued, “It isssss clossssssse now. Thissssss one beginsssss to tasssssste it.” Her trademark smile spread across her face as she joined her charge in her attempt to descry some clue from the maw yawning before her. And, though her vision was better by far than her charge’s was, nothing could be distinguished from the endless black of the tunnel. Not yet, at least.
Again, an intoxicating wave of fear intermingled with excitement met her senses. Murmur spared a sideways glance at her charge. The girl’s emotions were fascinating—if maddening—to behold. Her charge had spent the last year manic with impatience and need. And now that the moment was nearly upon her, she was balking. Such a curious creature. With emotions like hers, it was a wonder the poor girl got anything done. As for herself, there was no such conflict of feelings. In fact, Murmur was nearly giddy from excitement. After a painfully slow year of waiting, the moment was almost upon them. She would finally know what planetary force drew her to this desolate ice berg. And, whatever it was, she knew beyond doubt that it would be the means by which she finally, after eighteen years, attained her goals. The memories of her long dead siblings would finally be appeased, and her enemies would finally be brought to their knees.
For the first time since the day of her siblings’ deaths, her pleasant smile took on a barely-perceptible, darker edge.
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Feb 12, 2014 20:00:42 GMT -8
When this journey had begun a year ago, Airen had never imagined the diverse palate of sentient life she would encounter. From the noble Arkanian’s to varied human genotypes, nothing had been more surprising than the ebon clad Barabel seeking to enlist within her expedition. It was not uncommon for the seemingly feral species to become hunters of either profits or trophies, but this woman had a shrouded ulterior motive. Her cousin had advised against taking her with them as they left Coruscant, his reasoning’s were nothing more than lingering traces of Imperial indoctrination. Sure, the reptilian had a chance to slay the entire crew and make off with the priceless information they already attained; but for some reason she defied the ties that bound her to such an inappropriate stereotype. She had been a mysterious figure during the journey, or at least as far as Airen was concerned, for living within a nightmare that haunted her every waking moment made the woman into a recluse.
Breathing softly, doing what she could to avoid gulping down the frigid air, Airen offered up a small smile in return for the words of kindness. “Thank you for your kind words.” She said, through chattering teeth, shattering all pre-tense of gratitude with the ascending clatter. “What I wouldn’t give to be birthed with a nose like yours; whatever lays beyond this tunnel must be ripe with stories.” Without skipping a beat, Airen activated her survival gears heat exchange; letting the warmth of her core extend towards her extremities. Sadly the kiss of fire stopped below her collarbone, leaving her already porcelain skin to ever slowly match the clarity of the ice surrounding them. With the frosted fingers of death stopped in their tracks by the sudden surge of powered heat, the living dreamer tossed her gaze back towards the encroaching darkness of the tunnel. “This world is steeped in history, Barabel. It has been giving these dreams in the hopes I would unlock its secrets, that whatever lay at the heart of…” She let her words trail off, echoing down into the tunnel. Her mind was lost in thought as yet another vision came to her, forcing her silence so that she could decipher its meaning.
Vivid flashes of the Fortress walls washed over Airen’s mind, soaking into the meat of her brain. Though there was something different about this vision, something that had changed since she had seen the fortress monastery minutes before. The walls were no longer there, nor were the towering citadels sequestered behind them. Instead, an ocean of ash was left in the castle’s stead, bleeding off into the darkness below as the frigid waters of destruction began to well within the massive expanse before the fortress. It was within those reformed waters that the expedition stood, leading her thoughts towards a penultimate conclusion – whatever she sought lay beneath the frozen crust of this broken world. Airen already knew that what she sought was beneath the surface, but as if in response the images began fading to black; only to be replaced by a violet mist.
This miasma shrouded something sinister; Airen could feel it in the back of her mind. As her body, bereft of the control her mind desired began walking through the mists, she saw what was truly hidden beneath the purple veil. Twisted and mangled corpses of both Jedi and Sith, marked out by their distinguished attire. Without having to count them, she knew the total number of the dead; over two thousand dead warrior monks, each fighting to protect their differing ideals. Various other corpses were strewn between the venerable dead, showing recent signs of expiration. She was walking among the remnants of some unremembered battle, moving towards a towering obelisk in the distance. Airen couldn’t make out what it was, but the smell was worse than she could ever imagine. Death hung about her shoulders like a shroud, enveloping her in ways that she could never imagine. It was then that she started to rebel against the path set before her, for whatever lay beyond the expanse of the tunnel was nothing short of doom incarnate. She didn’t want to go any closer to the towering block of cast obsidian, ringed by steps formed from blood caked skulls. Yet, there was something oddly alluring about this obelisk – nay it was more throne like in its appearance.
It was a pair of glowing crimson orbs…
Yanking herself out of the dream like trance, Airen had found herself standing beyond the lip of the manmade crevasse and several feet inside the darkened tunnel. She didn’t know how she had moved from the side of her Barabel security officer, but whatever was causing the dreams seemed to be the most likely suspect. She wanted them to stop, and the only way it seemed that such a feat could be accomplished, was by finding out what secrets this lair held. Turning her head towards her Barabel companion and the descending dig team thereafter, Airen spoke with an ethereal resonance tainted her normal tone of voice.
“Come, come. These dreams won’t stop themselves.”
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Murmur
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Post by Murmur on Feb 12, 2014 21:37:03 GMT -8
"Whatever lay at the heart of this mountain…"
As the girl lapsed back into one of her waking dreams, the Barabel was left to taste as the confusion of her charge’s emotions resolved into abject horror. Murmur’s instincts ran wildly in response to the change, as did a newfound sense of clarity. Instead of a vague, irresistible force, she could feel the distinct, overwhelming will of another entity pulling at her as irresistibly as if the mountain wasn’t even there. Her reptilian mind raced to answer her nagging curiosity, but her eagerness and urge to hunt were too all-consuming.
Glowing with the eerie calm of a predator, her molten eyes affixed themselves to the advancing form of her charge. Her field of perception narrowed. In her eyes, there was no one else on this frozen wasteland of a planet except for the two of them. The girl moved forward as if attached to string, helpless as a puppet in its master’s hands. And, taking on the role of her shadow, Murmur stalked at the girl’s heels. She was waiting for the moment wherein this puppet lost its usefulness. She knew, now, that this girl was merely a means to her end. Then, suddenly, as if in confirmation of her conclusion, the girl paused to look over her shoulder and told her to come along. Though, the voice that escaped the girl’s lips was not entirely her own.
A serene smile met the command, and she bowed her head in a show of deference—a rarity for her. She did not know if the entity was watching through the girl’s vacant eyes, but she knew that she wanted to play a part in this force of nature’s unfolding saga. This was where she belonged. So, suffice to say, it wouldn’t hurt to do what she could to portray herself in a favorable light.
Again, her pearlescent tongue sampled the air. Among the growing taste of blood and power, she tasted decay’s putrid taint on the earthy sediment surrounding her. This mountain was a monument to death; it was an alter to the entity housed within. And it thrilled her in ways beyond what speech could describe. Abruptly, she found that she envied the girl her dreams. She longed to bear witness to the ancient battle that resulted in this monolithic cathedral. It must have been a holy sacrifice to shame all other holy sacrifices. Even more potently, she wanted to know what it felt like to wield so much power. It felt like enough to bring the whole universe to its knees. By comparison, the Jedi order was an insect. The appreciative hiss escaped her before she could stifle it, but she was long past caring.
Her marionette guide continued leading the way deeper into the mountain. Meanwhile, she honed her instincts further. She had no suitable weapon on her, as the inadequate blaster she’d been given had long since succumbed to the extreme temperature. So, her claws and teeth would have to do instead. Not that she was very put out by the conclusion. Quite the contrary, she would be able to feel the girl’s life ebb away into nothingness—such a pleasure had eluded her for far too long.
The thought made her serene smile deepen.
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Feb 13, 2014 18:30:53 GMT -8
The encroaching darkness seemed to absorb her body, as she took another step towards the peaks heart. Invisible tendrils of black ink sought to drink in her luminescence, taking her crude flesh into the fold of the void; making her forever a part of the mountain. Airen almost succumbed to this irresistible pull that caused her body to move of its own accord, leaving her world behind in the promises of whatever wish this darkness would grant. Was it the whispered assurances of solace from her waking dreams that drove her body forward; or perhaps something darker and deeply seeded within the back of her mind? Airen could never be sure, for the two questions would not be answered while the mystery that lay in the heart of this cordillera. Snapping back into focus with a simple blink, the woman watched as the dig team had flew into view. Deposited by a heavy lander, the men and women of various backgrounds and species rushed down the crevasse with their gear in tow. Several of the brutish males bore a large mining laser in their two handed grip, making for an impressive sight of rippling flesh shrouded by the winter white of their cold survival gear. Behind them, trailing underneath the weight of their packs, were the geologists and other specialists she had hired for this excavation. Airen needed experts of every stripe to ensure that their path forward would be safe and sound, rather than just mindlessly drilling into the heart of an unstable mountain range perched atop a broken planet.
Within moments, light flooded the tunnel, driving back the ever advancing darkness with pools of artificial illumination. Closing her eyes to dampen the sudden flare of contained fire seeking to scorch her vision, Airen blinked several times to ensure her eyes had adjusted. Confident that she could see without any marks marring her sight, she forcefully lifted her eyelids – gasping in astonishment as they beheld a wondrous spectacle. Before the gathering of like-minded souls, was a lengthy corridor of polished stone leading further into the realm of shadows. Airen’s lips curled into a smile as she saw that the walls of this small expanse weren’t as smooth as she had first assumed, instead the non-metallic panels adorning the walls were polished obsidian that seemed to drink in the light. It was an optical illusion that tricked her mind into seeing what was never truly there. A low whistle emanated from one of her companions lips as his hand brushed against the surface. “It’s warm to the touch. Like the heat of our drill was drunk into the walls. I… I can’t explain how this is possible.” The man withdrew his hand from the ebon barrier, only to stare at his fingers in disbelief. Uncaring, Airen grabbed one of the portable flood lamps and moved past the awed specialists. She didn’t bring them here to study the strange quality of the seemingly eldritch composition of the corridor’s walls.
“Do you know what this place is?” She asked, her question directed at no one. Airen knew that her newly appointed bodyguard would follow; she saw the hunger – nay desire for knowledge in her scarlet eyes. “It was a place long forgotten by time.” Airen began, letting her scholarly tone resonate within the stale air about them. “Arkania was home to a large repository of Dark knowledge once. For it was during the days of the Sith Empire – the Elder one under the Jen’ari Naga Sadow, that these hallowed halls were rife with the enemies of the Jedi. In true Sith fashion, either out of rivalry or jealousy, they had built a vast archive of secrets to rival the Great Jedi Library of Ossus.” Her enlarged flashlight filled the darkened corridor before her, banishing the relentless shadows wherever her wrist twisted. “Some of those warrior monks I had met, told me that this place was called Veeshas Tuwan; a name whose meaning was lost when the Old Sith Empire was broken after the defeat of Naga Sadow.”
“In standard Jedi fashion,” she continued, “A strike force comprised of several Jedi masters was sent to these halls, bringing the repository down upon itself; destroying thousands of years’ worth of priceless relics and cultural documents.” Sorrow had edged in upon her tone, casting what could be seen of her face into a gloomy light. “The Jedi feared what the Sith could become, you see. They feared that if a being sensitive enough to bind the very will of the universe to their hands, which lived without the enforced restraint of the Jedi – they would plunge the galaxy into a war, from in which it would never recover.” A heavy sigh slipped through her lips, echoing out in the dispersing darkness. “Having something to rival the Great Jedi Library would simply not do for the supposed protectors of the galaxy. They couldn’t have anyone challenge their rule.”
Airen turned her face to see if she had been followed by the Barabel from her Security detail. Knwoing that she would have followed her, the act was more to gauge her reaction to the tale she had woven. Letting a trace of a smile curl upon her upper lip as her feet carried her forward, Airen spoke a selection of words that would possibly ring true with her tailing companion.
“Is it often that the desire to save the Galaxy, is often shrouded by the lust to rule it.”
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Murmur
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Post by Murmur on Feb 13, 2014 23:48:22 GMT -8
The girl looked over her shoulder once more, no doubt checking to see if she was still being attended by her Barabel shadow. She would not be disappointed. Still managing to cling to her rationality with a single claw, Murmur was following hard on her charge’s heels. The girl’s sudden question partially summoned her out of her predatory fog like a beacon. She shook her head to show her ignorance, but she doubted very seriously that the girl even noticed. She was lost in her dreams, and in her scholarly interest. After a year of seeing this first hand, Murmur knew that the girl was far beyond the ability of interpersonal conversation. So, she followed on as the girl explained the significance of this ancient, forgotten tomb:
The names meant nothing to her, but she did mark the factions. And if that wasn’t enough to enthrall her, the purpose of this place definitely would. Like the rest of her species, she valued wisdom and knowledge above all else. That held especially true when said knowledge was of particular use to her. Unwittingly, her red-gold eyes mirrored the sorrow emanating from her charge. She would’ve killed for the chance to learn what this library held. Reverently, she reached out to run her clawed hand along the heated walls as she walked. But, as soon as the girl ahead of her continued, her hand dropped away and she listened closely to her charge’s words.
Once more the girl turned to look at her. A brief moment of silence fell between them, then she finished her lecture:
The words rang through her head like a clarion. Her charge could not know—and would never know—just what effect that statement had on the Barabel. To the girl, it was an historian’s summation of an event that happened long ago. To Murmur, it was an epiphany. Her eyes glinted in acceptance as, yet again, her particular smile made its appearance. In the oppressive silence that now reigned, Murmur’s soft lisp reverberated, “Thisssss one admiresssssss your wissssssdom. It isssss fitting then, that you will be the one to dissssscover what sssssecretssss are hid in thisssssss crypt of knowledge. Thissssss one isssss honored to sssssee you to your long journey’ssssss culmination.”
And what a culmination it would turn out to be.
As her plan finally took shape, Murmur’s tongue sampled the air once more. The presence that loomed was so close that its taste made her senses reel. The mountain was saturated with it, and so Murmur could not yet pinpoint the source. Indeed, until the entity was exhumed at last, she would require the girl’s help.
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
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Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Feb 19, 2014 17:59:18 GMT -8
Airen’s pursuit of the esoteric arts revolving about the Sith and their mysterious order, had proven to be the epitome of hubris in her life. Before the dreams had started haunting her every waking thought, she was commissioned by the Galactic Republic to study the dark arts of their enemies in the attempt to exploit any weaknesses that could be garnered through confiscated Ancient Sith Lore. It was through the pursuit of this malicious knowledge, while pure of purpose and heart; that Airen’s sanity began to slowly fester and rot. She soon became obsessed with the vast repositories on Korriban and Dromund Kaas, often leading doomed expeditions into the very core of Sith controlled space in order to expand her understanding of the Dark Side. When the Republic had learned that Airen’s understanding of their enemies had become a fixation for her comprehension, she was hunted down and dragged before the Senate in chains. The Senators present had deemed her an unnecessary risk to the safety of the Republic, as she had breached the terms of their contract – almost rivalling the potential danger the Sith posed to the Coruscanti based government. The fact her uncle had pull with several of the Senators at her hearing, saved her from a public disgrace – thus allowing her to continue on with quenching her hunger for knowledge. All she had done and all she had seen, brought her to this point. Airen’s flesh began to pimple as the cold thrill of excitement ran down the length of her spine. She had done what no Archeo-Historian before could claim; for she had found what remained of Veeshas Tuwan. Her previous exploits had caused her to garner the most basic of understandings in regards to ancient Sith lore, most notably the runes and hieroglyphs attributed to the extinct species and their pretenders thereafter. Thus as Airen and her reptilian companion continued down the length of the ebon clad corridor, the credibility of her earlier assumption had been proven. The smooth stone of the walls had ended abruptly as the hallway branched off into a pillar supported chamber, in which everything of scrawled with embossed markings that caused her eyes to ache with a phantom pain. The scope of the rocky expanse before the two of them was seemingly endless, as where ever Airen had directed her light the room about her suckled upon the beam. The archeo-historian let out a pleasurable sigh as she spun and skipped about in the column supported chamber, reveling in the assumed size of the place.
“Veeshas Tuwan.” She had said, coming down from her moment of childish elation. “It’s not what I expected, but knowing the Sith – There is always more than meets the eye.”
Placing the portable lamp down upon the ash strewn ground, Airen withdrew several glowsticks from her breast pocket. While they would do little to brighten these darkened halls, it would give her an approximation as to how far the shadows would go. In what seemed to be like a moment of clarity, she tossed the freshly cracked sticks along the cardinal points of a compass rose; bathing the ebon stone chamber with an eerie beryl light. With more of the shrouded room exposed to her unaltered gaze, there was a single item that instantly caught her eyes. Before her stood a massive door, that had no visible access and egress for her and her followers to press on. It was no surprise that these halls seemed untouched by the destructive fires of the Jedi, despite the noticeable lack of archive worthy material. The sounds of her pleasurable sigh had been replaced by that of frustration, as it seemed just by visual inspection alone that the mining lasers she had requisitioned from the Republic would not break through whatever dark materials comprised this door’s composition. In the depths of her consciousness, she felt the sudden and unavoidable urge to run fill her thoughts. She had come this far and had seen what no one alive had ever seen since the Jedi set this repository to the torch. That was enough to claim yet another scrap of fame, but with the unyielding immensity of the door placed before her; any credit would reek heavily of shame. Airen couldn’t let such a failure stain her festering soul, for she had to breach this door and find the being to which belonged the crimson gaze haunting her waking dreams. There was no other alternative to undergo; it was now all or nothing. Breathing in a hearty helping of frigid air, Airen closed her eyes and forced her body to calm her pacing heartbeat. It’s excited and violent pulse needed to be tempered, so that the vicious pounding behind her eyes would cease; allowing her to think clearly. Another mouthful of the freezing environment slid down her throat, washing away the turmoil within the violet miasma of her consciousness. Over the course of several silent moments her racing pulse began to slow, the rationality of a wise scholar overtaking the sudden desire of a youthful form lusting after forgotten secrets.
Now with her thoughts untainted by the discovery of the door, she advanced upon the silent stone sentinel; cautiously placing her feet atop the uneven flooring to ensure she didn’t set off any traps, something that one of her colleagues had failed to learn during their stay upon the red sands of Korriban. Bypassing the small expanse of rocky flooring before her, Airen came to stand directly in front of the stone portal. Like the obsidian walls that coated the hallways behind her, this covered opening was oddly warm to the touch. When Airen had removed her glove to place her bare hand upon its weathered surface, she knew almost instantaneously that the warmth was far from natural. In their initial geological surveys of the broken world, there were no geothermal vents located anywhere close to this portion of the mountain range. So for a stone to have such eldritch heat billowing from its surface meant that whatever was on the other side of this door – was what they were looking for. As if in response to her touch, the doors began to part; acting of their own volition as they began to push away from Airen’s form. Sluggish in their movement as they dragged across the uneven floor, letting the rancid stench of time and decay waft out with haste. Airen dropped to her knees and gagged, nearly losing the contents of her stomach. The fetid aroma of rotting meat and stale ozone assailed her nostrils, as she began dragging herself to her feet. The archeo-historian bit down upon her tongue to halt her body’s natural reaction to the odour, but as she felt compelled to advance farther into the fetid den, blood began to well under her tongue. Each step the woman took had pushed her further into the welling darkness of this newly opened cavern, advancing towards her destiny. With the shadows filling her vision, Airen’s hand instinctively went into her breast pocket and withdrew the final stick of emerald luminescence. Cracking the internal canister and watching the beryl lights bathe the floor about her feet, she cried out in alarm. Washed in the green illumination of the glowstick, were dozens of corpses in various states of decay. Upon seeing the crumbling and mummified bodies with threadbare clothing, the contents of her stomach had finally upended.
Purging her stomach of the accumulated bile as her spine launched Airen’s mouth forwards, the noxious scent joined with malodorous smell; weaving a tapestry of a toxic bouquet. The woman’s eyes closed as she did her best to recover from her bout of weakness, only to open again when she had steeled herself for what was to come. Airen had a purpose here, and a literal field of fetid corpses would not stop her now. Heaving in a breath of poisonous air, she gently stepped over the weathered and headless corpse of a figure that could only be assumed to be a member of either the Jedi Order or Sith. With her eyes adjusting to the encroaching darkness battling the radiance of her glowstick, Airen noted something colossal in the center of this chamber. Something so massive that the darkness itself seemed to swirl around this centerpiece, giving birth to the shadows that bathed this vault in a hundred shades of black. As Airen had found herself stepping closer and closer towards this monument surrounded by a carpet of slain Jedi and Sith, she began to see the outermost details washed in green light. Row upon row of boiled skulls stretched into the darkness, various tiers forming what she had assumed to be a throne. Many of these naked craniums were lashed together by fraying strands of rope; others were bound as one by an ethereal metallic gleam. It was a literal testament to the ancient carnage that had been wrought within these hallowed halls. Airen had considered it odd that all the corpses she had passed were bereft of their heads, but as she had seen the sheer scope of the carnage about her feet – she could not say that she was surprised.
Her eyes were drawn towards the precipice of the bone dais, feeling the revulsion of standing within the room where the pestilence was palpable upon the tongue; fade away as her glow stick revealed a pair of immense steel clad boots. Airen had hardly felt fear throughout her lifetime, mostly due to the fact she was nothing but a puppet drawn upon willing strings, yet at this moment her blood had gone cold. Terror gripped her heart as she willed her eyes to look up, attempting to reveal the figure bathed in darkness. Instead, her arm remained fixed in place; fixating her glow sticks illumination solely the massive implacable footwear. It took a great force of will for the woman to lift her gaze towards the heavens, and when she had found that dark; cold well of intent, she was greeted by a pair of burning crimson eyes…
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Murmur
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Post by Murmur on Feb 20, 2014 14:29:55 GMT -8
There is no peace, there is anger. There is no fear, there is power. There is no death, there is immortality. There is no weakness, there is the Dark Side. Following the human into the pillared chamber, Murmur was unprepared for the feeling of vertigo that overtook her senses as a result of the abrupt change in atmosphere. Where there was previously a sense of building anticipation, now there was only an overwhelmingly potent and intoxicating sense of arrival.
The air was suffused with it.
A sentient darkness floated and crept around them in sullen clouds of blood, dust, and decay. All of it served only to goad the human puppet deeper into her servile delirium, forcing her to become irrevocably committed to her final, all-important performance. Concealed amid the deeper shadows which the glow sticks engendered, the Barabel was similarly spellbound. The darkness whispered demandingly at her with primal, alluring malevolence. Helpless, Murmur surrendered completely to the summons, and lost herself to a sudden, searing torrent of rekindled emotions. All in the space of a moment, she was transported backwards in time to watch while that Man systematically murdered her siblings in front of her. She saw the younger version of herself reach out—horrified—to touch the still-warm blood that gently lapped through the bars of her prison like a gruesome, in-coming tide. And she experienced, again, that life-changing moment wherein her impotent fear transformed into incredible power. Power which she then used to break free from her cage and slaughter the man that slaughtered the last remainders of her family, the siblings which she’d vowed to protect. Finally, the memories faded, and she was left with the power itself. A moment’s moment passed. Then, like an addict, she felt herself seize onto that power once more. Greedily, it raced through her veins like living fire, consuming her, enslaving her, and forging her anew.
I am the heart of the darkness. I know no fear; But, rather, I instill it in my enemies. I am the destroyer of worlds. The resonating sound of stone scraping against stone woke her from the fleeting clarity of her rebirth. A fresh wave of old death crashed into her senses with the force of a tidal wave. And a demon sat complacently within, on a throne of skulls. Evidently, this was the being— the heart of darkness—which had summoned her a year ago across the infinite expanse of space.
She heard the human puppet retch, a worthless offering at the feet of a blood-eyed god.
I know the power of the Dark Side. I am the fire of hate. All the universe bows before me. A serene, all-too-familiar smile spread across the Barabel’s face.
This was the moment: the puppet had exhausted its usefulness at last. Finally, summoning the hatred still coursing rampantly through her veins, she yielded to the predator within that had waited too long to slake its hunger. Once more, the world retreated until it contained just herself and the prey she stalked. The human was oblivious, completely paralyzed by her own weakness. Murmur did not need stealth, but the instinct was too ingrained. She crouched and clung to the shadows, advancing smoothly in the confident rush of a climax predator. It was too easy to get within arm’s reach of the female. It was easier, still, to grab her by the neck and lift her so that her feet dangled helplessly, just above the dusty stone ground. Murmur’s claws slightly punctured the soft, tender skin of the girl’s throat, completely oblivious to her struggling. As soon as the heady scent of blood reached her nostrils, her eyes dilated and she brought the girl closer, snaking her other arm around the girl’s waist as if she were a lover, vice-like and inescapable. Murmur flicked her tongue out to taste the trickle of liquid ruby that flowed gently but rapidly over her hand. The blood was just as good to taste as it was to smell.
Shutting her eyes in animalistic satisfaction, she took a brief, quiet moment to relish the flavor…
All too soon, though, the moment passed. Somehow, Murmur forced herself to regain enough composure to complete her task. Under the stony, bloody scrutiny of the One she sought, the Barabel spoke. Her soft, lisping voice was quiet—almost soothing—as she spoke to the frightened female, “Thissssss one thankssss you.” Afterwards, without waiting for a response, she dug her claws deep into the girl’s jugular vein and raked her claws sideways, slitting her prey’s throat and killing her. New, arterial blood joined and briefly revitalized the blood of so many headless dead lying like forgotten dolls around the throne they helped to build. Adding to the morbid collection, Murmur carefully laid the now lifeless puppet to her rest there as well.
I pledge myself unto darkness, For I have found true life In the dark of the light— Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken… Murmur was neither proud of what she’d done, nor was she ashamed.
The girl’s death had been necessary: On a personal level, it demonstrated the breath-taking power that came from harnessing her passions. Publicly, it served as a demonstration of her willingness to take whatever lengths necessary to achieve her goals. Then, the brief moment of contemplation passed. Molten eyes met crimson as Murmur stepped over the limp corpse closer to the One that brought her here.
Unabashedly, she held the gaze and waited.
The Force shall free me.
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Darth Belial
Member
"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Feb 23, 2014 14:13:28 GMT -8
In a galaxy beset upon all sides by chaos, there was always an underlying semblance of order. Where there was darkness, there would be the faintest trickle light. The blazing sun, though warm and considered to be the giver of life, would always cast the largest of shadows. It was the unwritten law of balance that dictated every facet of how sentient life would interact with the environment about them. This has been understood and accepted since the beginning of time itself, taken advantage of by religious bodies to control the emerging masses with blind faith, and giving all breathing beings the illusion of controlling their own destiny. Anything that dare clung to their existence was subjected to the rules of balance, forever considered a slave to the unforeseeable will of an uncaring galaxy. By means still shrouded in secrecy, these unrecorded decrees had led to the creation of the organization that would in turn father the roots of the modern day Sith and Jedi orders. Through the varied gathering of warriors, monks, and scientists; they would give life to this principle of balance. Forever more this otherworldly power would be defined as the Force, instating the balance as it flew within every sentient being. Those capable of manipulating this divine power had likened it to being godlike, as they created works of art with nothing more than their minds, or dominated the wills of others with simple tricks.
From that point forward, like all beliefs in a mystical power of old idolatry, its original purpose was shaped into a new form to befit the needs of a select few. It was from this change, the only truth besides balance in an uncertain galaxy, that the Jedi order would be born – with the exiles that reveled in the glorious power they attained forgotten upon Tython’s moon of Bogan. The two sides of the same coin became apparent that day, leading to the greatest conflict of interests of that era. A war between the servants of Bogan - the dark moon, and the slaves of Ashla - a rock bathing in the light of the systems sun; tore the surface of Tython apart. Conflicting reports upon both sides, as with the great many lost details due to the antiquity of any archived material regarding that era, had forged an everlasting hatred between the forces of the light and the armies of darkness. The Taoist symbol regarding the interdependent and interconnected forces of chaos and order had become popular among the warrior monks of that era, a symbol of understanding that each would wear out of respect for the other. However over time that symbol was forgotten and the forces of light had become arrogant in their hubris of power, silently dwelling upon harnessing the powers of the universe for their own benefit rather than letting the balance of the galaxy run its course.
This has always been a point of contention between the Jedi and the Sith, each side unwilling to see the truth underlying the words spilling from their indoctrinated mouths. They refuse to see that the force, flowing through each living being residing within the living realm, shapes this mystical power by forcing their emotions upon its every ebb and flow. While a man sensitive enough to use this power for good would liken himself to a Jedi, a thoughtless man would despoil the force with his own selfish ambition. All of this emotion enforced upon the mystical energy field, spanning the ages, birthed the benevolent and malign beings of sentience beyond the veil of reality. Enthroned within the enameled embrace of his skull throne, this man was created by another who sought to usurp the collective power; and become greater than the whole. That man’s dream was the take the power of the gods to enhance his own, allowing him to bypass the very laws of nature to shape the galaxy to his will. However in a fit of the greatest irony, this Dark Lord of the Sith had failed moments before his ascension; leaving all of the incumbent power to surge through his apprentices veins.
So when the life of his puppet had finally come to an end, for her services where no longer required in the greater prize she had brought with her, the man known as Belial was unfazed. Death was nothing more than another chain, lashing his flesh to reality; waiting to be broken. Airen was weak, and thus deserved to be devoured by a predator with greater strength. It was the way of the galaxy, a mockery of the very balance the Jedi seek to abhor. When the corpse of his fallen marionette had finally collapsed to the ground, gurgling up mouthfuls of crimson vitae as her death echoed throughout the force, the Sith lord offered up a small smile of amusement. Her life expiring before him, danced across his thoughts as a pleasing meal would tickle the tastebuds. He relished her transference through the force, the chord striking him in such a way that he had to fight the urge to become a conductor of souls, therefore relinquishing the powerful image he had set by creating this shrine to massacre. When this reptile woman had finished her act of depravity, her bloodshot eyes fell upon him; defiance and the desire for revenge painted plainly for him to see.
Leaning forward, manipulating the swirling shadows to fall back from their master and revealing a face covered by the pitiful remains of a human skull, the giant spoke; his voice echoing throughout the halls as two souls clashed against one another for the control of his mouth. “You have done well, Barabelell... Exceeding my expectations at every turn; proving to me that you are worth my timemee... I have been freed from this prison of my former master’s design, now able to continue his work without the hindrance of frailtylttyy... Thus, I feel the expectation of questions burning within your mind. I shall answer them, but know that should you lie I shall see the truth ten thousand foldolldd... Upon the threat of following in my puppets steps, I will leave you to ask your questionsoonnss…”
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Murmur
Member
Posts: 17
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Murmur on Feb 26, 2014 10:37:44 GMT -8
The cloudy shadows eddied away from their originator on his alter-throne, playful and heavy, like incense smoke caught up in an invading breeze. Finally, he was revealed and she beheld this newly liberated, blasphemous god for the first time. He was human. He was clad in the same death that surrounded him, the same death that he sat upon, and the same death that he tasted of. If Murmur didn’t know better, she would have named him Death—though, doubtless, such an appellation would serve him as well as whatever his real name was. A low hiss escaped her, giving her intrigue a voice, but the chamber quickly consumed it. It was as if this long forgotten tomb on this long frozen planet was holding its breath, waiting—fearfully? eagerly?—for the human before her to speak. She waited also, her heavy tail thrashing back and forth through the dark smoke as the only testament to her impatience.
Then, when he did speak, everything fell still. Everything listened with baited breath to the curiously unnatural duality of the human’s voice. Such a voice did not rightly belong in the world of the living; and, Murmur could plainly see the human’s struggle to master it. He praised her efforts, threatened her, and invited her to question him.
Her mind reeled in the silence that reasserted itself once his voice faded. She stepped still closer to the human male, flicking her tongue out to taste the air once more, reaffirming the fact that all of this was real. The familiar, maddening taste of fetid decay intermingled with the dead female’s fresh blood assaulted her taste buds and assured her that all of this was actually happening. Thus satisfied, Murmur finally responded. Her soft lisp was a stark contrast to the human’s supernatural baritone, “What can thisssss one call you, ssssstrange human? And how did you know to ssssssssummon thissss one here from acrosssss the galaxxssssy?”
Her first questions were no profound inquiries into the vast workings of the universe, but that didn’t make them any less important. She wanted to know if her being here was simply random chance, or a product of Bogan’s design. Would this man sitting so casually before her even know? Or was he, like her, simply following a compelling force of his own? Either way, his answer would be her answer.
After a pause, she continued, “Thisssssss one alsssso is curioussss about your purpossse. Thissss one anssswered your ssssummonsssss, yesssss… but thissss one alssssso hassss planssss. Will your ambitionssss be compatible with thissss one’sssss own? Thissss one wonderssssss…”
Never mind that she traveled several light years a year ago to get there. If this human only expected her to achieve his own ends, he would be egregiously mistaken. He was strong—probably unimaginably so—and he probably had the means to teach her a great many useful things; but she still had free-will, and there was a whole universe of other teachers for her to find. She would be disappointed. She’d get over it. Her family had made the mistake of entailing themselves to the Jedi order, and it had gotten them all killed for a Jedi’s profit. She would not make the same mistake. This man would either help her get to where she wanted to go, or she would leave him on this frozen rock to his own devices.
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Darth Belial
Member
"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Mar 2, 2014 10:53:59 GMT -8
It was the natural state of the galaxy to jealously hold her secrets tight, so that the balance of power would forever more remain within her gnarled grasp. Thus in the pursuit of such forbidden knowledge, many brilliant minds were dragged into the dark abyss of death; by fate’s unkind hands. Such was the case for one man and his vision of upending the natural order of things. This man was forever lashed to the strings of destiny, believing in his hubris that he could alter the course of the galaxy with subtle twists of his wrists. In the end, Arkania and the realm beyond the veil, were to become this man’s corporeal resting place; leaving his soul to graft onto that of his acolyte. The fusing of their souls in a realm drenched in energies corrupted by the fetid touch of chaos, had birthed a being like no other. Agony had been the first sensation that this creature felt, as the transformative energies surged through his body; igniting every nerve cluster with a soul searing pain. That had been nearly two years ago when his corporeal form had manifested within the seared vaults beneath the remnants of the great repository. The body his twin souls had taken for their own was damaged beyond belief when it had entered the realm beyond the veil of reality, and now that it had returned – the being’s flesh was smooth to the touch; unmarked by the ravages of war that had previously adorned the hulking Epicanthix.
As he leaned forward, resting his elbows upon a skirt of silver scales, the man contemplated the answers to the dragon-woman’s questions. What was his name? Unlike the trillions of souls about the universe, this man had not been born by conventional means – nor had he reveled in the experiences of childbirth. Bereft of loving parents to bequeath a name unto him, the man was left to his own devices to choose his own name. In the space of a fleeting moment, he had chosen his personal title; basing such a conclusion on the immaterial realm that had fused him together and the shadows that had followed him through when he had fell into the mortal realm. The shadows had whispered sweet lies into his ears when his body was enduring the fires of change, leaving the enthrone demi-god to extrapolate upon the desires of the nether realm and combine them with the fragmented memories caged within his skull. He was to be the new Lord of Lies, a man bearing the mortal title of Darth Belial.
“You may call me Lord Belial, Barabelaabbeell.” His beings speech had taken on a resonate tone with the dual voices, ever threatening to overcome one another, yet despite the chaos apparent in his words; managed to remain as a honeyed potion to the ears. “And through the pursuit of knowledge and the power at my command, I have called you here to this frigid world of hopeless isolation, to free me from my mortal prisoniissoonn. The Ancient Sith that once housed themselves within these hallowed halls, had placed wards upon the walls; should that any being return from the veil beyond reality – become trapped within this vault. They hoped to study the effects of the immaterial realm, before the Jedi had put this archive to the torch. Yet no matter the intensity of the fire, they could not burn away these petulant magic sealseeaallss.”
“As to my purpose, Dragonspawn, I shall tell you nothingtthhiinngg.” His words were flecked with conflicting tones; the ethereal voice had become abrasive in their presentation, while the corporeal side had remained pleasantly neutral. “However, as you have done me a service – so to shall I for youoouu.” His crimson eyes narrowed as the shadows began to recede in upon themselves, whisking into the darkened corners of the vault; somehow brightening the room despite the blatant fact everything was shrouded within the absence of light. Belial’s lips curled into a sneering smile as his consciousness tore itself free from the corporeal bonds of his mortal flesh, only to skim the surface thoughts of this newest arrival. Within seconds he had taken the knowledge of her past from the supple meat of her cerebral matter, formulating a payment he would willing return for the favour she had done him. While it was an act of hypocrisy, Belial felt that if he willing went along with the idea of balance – he would garner a steady base of followers upon which he would build the galaxy anew. Letting the sneering curl of his mouth widen, revealing the glossy enamel chips within, the Dark Lord knew that her goal would align with his in ways no one could ever imagine. She wanted to avenge the death of her siblings, such thoughts were clear when she had torn the throat from his puppet, yet there was something more heavily alluded to beneath such plaintive desires. Perhaps it was a desire for power, or a bloodlust unattainable by her paltry powers? Only time and further uninvited entrances to her consciousness, would tell.
“The force, a name given to powers we wield by mortal minds, runs thick within your veins, Barabelaabbeell. Like a pool of water, tainted by the presence of crude oils, it runs thick with hatred and sorrow. I have read the unguarded portions of your mind, and see that you desire revenge – so strongly – that the aura about you seethes with unbridled anger. Powerful in its own right, yet utterly useless should it not be harnessed or controlledttrrolllleedd. Thus, as you have freed me from this ancient penitentiary, I shall teach you to become a master of the powers boiling within your scaled hide. Through my instruction, my final gift to you shall be for the taking. Revenge against those that wronged you and a place at my side as the complexities of my designs becomes apparentppaarreenntt.”
The abrasiveness within his ethereal voice had faded, only to be subsumed by his mortal tongue.
“Should you refute my offer, I shall let you leave this vault with your life. In thanks for opening the sealed door. However when we cross paths once more, I shall not be so kindiinndd.”
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Post by Vongoria on Mar 23, 2014 19:58:01 GMT -8
The yorik-trema of Vongoria landed in the open terrain of Arkania, landing claws gripping the surface of the planet firmly as the molleung worms extended from the ship. Female Yuuzhan Vong warriors, christened Vongalites but Vongoria, slipped from the worms on to the planets surface. Five females in totally came from the ship, each encased in her specially crafted Vonduun Skerr Kyrric. Each Vongalite carries a chitin carbine across her back, a yanskac, two blorash jellies, and one of these Vongalites had a fire spitter in her arm.
After all the Vongalites where on the ground, Vongoria stepped out between them and looked around in pride at her darlings. These where her warriors, faithful to her as they all had weathered trials and come to believe and trust in each other. Dressed in her red oozhith/Vonduun Skerr Kyrric armor, Vongoria was the only of the six females to carry an amphistaff weapon. She lacked the other weapons of her feminine warrior elites, carrying four blorash jellies instead and her whipsting in her shaper hand.
She nodded at her warriors and spoke to them softly. "Vongalites, we know why we are here. We hunt the might dragon o Arkania, but remember this is not to kill the creature! We want this mighty, magnificent creature alive and well. If any of you hard it, you will answer to me. However do not waste your lives attempting to capture this creature either. Retreat in these circumstances does not lower your honor, for this will not be a true or fair standing fight. Remember your training ladies! We may not even find anything, however of that chance should arise we shall remain upon this planet until we find something of these creatures to take back and study! Now, to the hunt!!!" She cried out, raising her amphistaff over her head as the Vongalites cried out their warrior cry and saluted her back, unslinging their chitin carbines loaded with Nang hul, instead if the razor or blast variants as tees where less lethal. She smiled and with a touch her amphistaff relaxed and wrapped around her arm, nuzzling her neck with a soft hiss. She stroked its head and laughed softly, moving off with her warrior/elites. "Yes, we hunt as well my dear." She whispered to the creature.
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Post by Edward James Wright on Dec 13, 2018 23:45:59 GMT -8
= Arkania , Mount Doubiaya, Prison Facility 1343-X2=
In the foothills of Mount Doubiaya, a single antenna ascended into the low-hanging clouds that danced over the ground. Hundreds of kilometers from any civilized port, this single structure stood out against the natural terrain. Below it, a small box structure with no windows was surrounded by snow drifts kept at bay by the heat emitted from the building.
A walkway extended outward, dimly lit and warmed as well keeping it bare and dry. At the end of the walkway were two landing pads that too were bare and dimly lit. There were no amenities, no refueling, and no attendants.
The deep roar of the engines of an incoming supply shuttle echoed over the hills, but there was no-one to hear it.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2019 9:04:17 GMT -8
Outskirts of Trade City. A team of rogue hunters were in the middle of tracking a nest of an Arkanian Dragon. The two of them had laid traps down around their camp just incase the dragon should appear while they slept. One of the hunters wore the armor of a Mandalorian he had killed, while the other wore his own armor. They both made use of blaster pistols while the hunter who was wearing the Mandalorian armor also made use of a sniper rifle. The other hunter had several toxic grenades with him, he thought that poisoning the dragon would be one of the faster ways to slow it down, if not kill it.
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Vasari
Blackguard Imperium
Tell me that I wont feel a thing...
Posts: 1,237
Affiliation: Academy of Iridonia - Blackguard Reborn
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Vasari on Oct 14, 2019 15:08:24 GMT -8
~Arkanian Diamond Mine - In the days following First Order Occupation of the planet~
The Sith Infiltrator descended through the lower atmosphere at a rather reckless speed following the course set by the orbital command station the pilot had checked in with above the planet. Within moments the ship was docking somewhat sloppily within a small bio-dome at the mouth of a great maw in the white tundra of Arkania. One of the famed Diamond mines the planet hosted sprawled out below but only the large gaping entrance could be seen. Once the craft had landed several workers rushed forward to hook up the craft for refueling and the cockpit opened with a bit of a hiss and a dark cloaked figure emerged from the small deadly looking fighter.
Vasari descended the ladder the workers had brought up next to the ship with her black Acolytes cloak billowing around her. The first thing she noted about the planet was the terrible cold. She was chilled to the point of uncontrollable shivers by the tundra planets low temperatures - up until this moment she didn't think anything could feel colder than the empty embrace of space. She wrapped the cloak tightly around her small frame and walked towards the entrance to the compound. She knew this to be the forward command and control center for the entire mine beneath, no actual control over the mine was done here, that was managed by foremans below the surface, but here is where she would be meeting with the owner of the mine - A rich self indulgent Muun who had recently 'acquired' the mine through his contacts with the first order. He hadn't been here for long, perhaps a week since the occupation of the planet. Time was certainly against him for he would be speaking on something he would have had only days to study. Vasari hoped this would provide her an edge in her dealings with the man. She had never met a Muun before but she knew of their reputation. The Intergalactic Banking Clan had ruled the economy of the galaxy for centuries, perhaps longer. Muun's were said to be ruthless businessmen but it was also said they kept their word when they made it, and held to their business dealings to the letter.
The young Acolyte was brought out of her thoughts when she almost walked into a small party that had been sent to greet her. She brought herself up short only inches from the supposed spokesman for the party who seemed uncomfortable by the closeness but not did say a thing about it or take a step back, simply cleared his throat and spoke clearly.
"My name is Yoto Captain of security for Dragon's Deep, and on behalf of the First Order and our gracious Benefactor Kram Lesser... we welcome you... lady...?
Vasari held her tongue, she did not come here to speak with local security and so she didn't. She did however lower herself into the force and use her connection to project a feeling of unease into the minds of those present. At that the Captain did finally stagger backwards a half a step, to his credit, not paling and backing away completely as some of the others behind him had - no doubt simple mindless muscle. Vasari then raised her head only slightly, her Yellow eyes peering out at the Captain in perfect silence, looking past his eyes into his mind. Her head tilted slightly, as if focusing on something far away, and only then did the Captain step to one side holding out his hand rather shakily for her to pass.
"Yes... of course... right this way..."
Vasari would have smirked had her face not been visible, she had planned on taking control of this simpliton's mind and ordering him to take her to Kram himself, but he must have had dealings with force users in the past because he knew what he was feeling, she could see that much. And she had already passed security check with Blackguard credentials to reach the dome in the first place. Vasari did not wait for him to take the lead but stepped passed him and into the structure before her walking up one of the corridors like she already knew where she was going...
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Post by Dah'lis 'Azure' Vao on Oct 15, 2019 8:45:59 GMT -8
~Arkanian Diamond Mine - In the days following First Order Occupation of the planet~
The Upsilon-class shuttle Aboard the shuttle sat eight troopers, each well trained, each a former slave, each a woman who had been done wrong by the galaxy. At their lead was another former slave, but this one wore crimson, an Imperial Knight. A Knight-Errant to be precise. This stop was another step on her path to full knighthood. The ramp lowered reveling the party to the cold of Arkania. Dah'lis, Knight of the Emperor, drew her cloak around herself to keep out the cold. She scanned the landing pads and made note of the Sith Starfighter.
Huh, looks like things will be a little more interesting than we thought. You two, stay with the ship, I don't want any surprises.
A salute from the two indicated troopers was all that was needed in response. Then the Half Twi-lek-half Nautolan, with her escort now six trooper escort, made her way to the building where she would be 'meeting' the proprietor of the Mine. Once inside, Dah'lis cast open her cloak to reveal her red body suit and hairless blue skin underneath. She made note of the guards, they would likely be getting paid extra under the table by Mister Lesser for extra loyalty to him and not the First Order. That would be a problem. Speaking of though, their in front of her was the Sith that the fighter no doubt belonged to, and it seemed she had already bullied her way through the guards.
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Vasari
Blackguard Imperium
Tell me that I wont feel a thing...
Posts: 1,237
Affiliation: Academy of Iridonia - Blackguard Reborn
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Vasari on Oct 15, 2019 17:49:02 GMT -8
Vasari felt a stronger presence than the mindless peon's around her as she made her way into the compound and up the corridor leading towards the Muun's office. In truth she hadn't seen a floor plan of the compound or studied it at all as she should have, she was pulling the information from the mind of the security captain. His mind was weak - an open box to her to rummage through as she wished. In this case she saw the plans for the building, how it connected to the Mine below and the various access points and choke points. She had a feeling she would be short on time and so she quickened her pace slightly, taking wider strides to a turbo lift and then down two floors to the Muun's office - a wide open room overlooking the snowy mouth of the mine shaft that disappeared into the earth. She stopped before exiting the turbo lift and put a hand over the control panel, sending an electrical surge of green Lightning into the panel shorting it out. The turbo lift wasn't the only way into the Muun's office, there were the stairs, and removing it from order would buy her time. She opened the doors to the turbo lift with the help of the force and moved into the office approaching the large desk in the center of the room with a casual grace.
"You've made yourself comfortable in the few days since you've been here Kram."
The large Muun smiled at her and stood from behind the desk splaying his arms wide nearly engulfing the full length of the table, then he brought them together almost in a praying motion as he bowed at the waist before replying.
"What brings the Blackguard Reborn to my door... Lady?"
He paused a little making it a question, giving the dark robed woman a moment to introduce himself. Vasari however made no move to introduce herself, content on simply being a figure of the blackguard, as long as she was only that it would be believable that she was acting on their behalf. She took a step to move around the table looking down at it. It was a beautifully carved wooden table depicting a map of the mines as best it could being a two dimensional surface.
"I've come to see the mines, sample your product, and make sure that Dragon's Deep is in the right hands, to be frank with you 'Director' Lesser... our Master has his doubts, you might say."
Vasari could feel the tension in the room now, he was upset clearly but he wasn't nervous. An odd lack of reaction Vasari would have thought. But this was the first Muun she had ever met - and all she knew is they were businessmen to the core. He would try to make a deal before resorting to violence, and it was that reason alone why Vasari had come alone. If she would have brought more men then he would not have felt the need to negotiate and this would have been much harder for her than it had to be. And so she smiled and looked back up at the Muun, finally pulling her hood back to reveal her bald head and her perfectly polished crown of horns.
"So... Shall we begin?"
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Post by Dah'lis 'Azure' Vao on Oct 15, 2019 18:21:49 GMT -8
Dah'lis saw that the Sith was already a head of them but it wouldn't matter, so long as the Sith didn't kill Kram before she got their. Besides, she would have to got through security and likely get clearance, so as to avoid an altercation. But at that moment the captain turned back and made eye contact with Dah'lis. The two recognized each other. Back then Dah'lis went by her slave name, Azure, and he was just an aide to Kram. A very easily seduced aide and one that liked to talk to impress the ladies. Both had a moment to think back on their brief 'meeting' while their masters met in private. But that moment passed quickly as Peon went into a full panic.
=Captain Peon= No no no no! It's her! She's here for the boss! Kill 'em!
And with that the room erupted into chaos. The guards out numbered the Imperials, but the Knight and her troopers were better trained. Blaster bolts rang out and a lightsaber came to life. The din lasted for what in the moment felt like an hour, but in reality only a few moments. One trooper was injured, but the guards were all dead or dying, exept Peon's corps wasn't one of the bodies. Throwing off her cloak and drawing her saberwhip as well, Dah'lis gave chase.
You all stay here and cover our exit. I wont let them get away!
Tearing off after the cowardly captain, Azure saw at the end of the hallway a door slide shut. Curious why he hadn't taken the turbolift next to it, Dah'lis paused for only a moment. The reason became clear as the consul sparked and sputtered. Not letting this stop her, she pulled open the door Peon had run through and followed down the stairs with all haste.
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Vasari
Blackguard Imperium
Tell me that I wont feel a thing...
Posts: 1,237
Affiliation: Academy of Iridonia - Blackguard Reborn
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Vasari on Oct 15, 2019 19:19:01 GMT -8
Kram looked over the Zabrak female now before him with a discerning eye, eyes that knew the worth of things, calculation and cold hard numbers. Thats all these sorts cared about. Bankers by name and trade and heart. Vasari looked back at him and the silence held for a few more moments before Kram finally spoke.
"Of course you will have a tour... i will set one up for you at once, and i have a few of our refined product here already for your inspection.
Vasari moved forward to inspect the clean cut diamonds that the Muun produced, all rather large, and fashioned into cuts that would would serve more than one purpose - focusing lenses, jewelry settings, and they were all various shapes and sizes. Vasari reached forward and picked up three or four of them as if inspecting their size and rough shape. She shook her head laying them back down on the felt case they were in.
"Of course if none of these fit your ne-"
"I am looking for Blood Diamonds."
"Oh... oh my, those are very rare only found in the deepest depths of the mine. They are very expensive too you know?"
The Muun was sitting at the desk looking quite calm and composed with Vasari still standing - still not even matching his full height - when the Zabrak's hunters senses heard rushed steps on the stairs, accompanied by the rapid beating of a singular heart. She lowered her hands down into her cloak half turning towards the door - away from the now empty sheet that used to contain the Diamonds - only moments before the mindless peon of a security captain burst through in a panic.
"Sir, she is here! That girl... that half breed slave girl! She has come to kill you!"
Vasari raised an eyebrow looking at the door, obviously the captain had a bit of a lead on whoever was in pursuit, giving her some time to get a handle on the situation. Her fingers rested gently on the hilt of the curved bladed saber under her cloak and she had tucked the diamonds she had taken into a pack secured to her back as well. The large Muun had already stood with a rather panicked look on his face and pressed a button under the table, no doubt a security alarm. Vasari rolled her eyes, her mission her just became much more complicated...
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