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  1. The old cantina was but a small outcrop that squeezed itself between the seams of the newer establishments, sticking out like a bruised toe against the many more popular options that now made themselves available after the war. Development in Iziz was at an all-time high, and opportunists from every wretched corner insisted on leaving their mark. Familiar faces enjoyed the company of familiar faces, and those that frequented this particular bar knew the smell of fresh meat all too well. "..Yer none the better trading in rumors, darling. Yer super-guy might be fixing you for a bad time, naming things to strangers that you darn sure shouldn't be naming. Unless yer one of them witches now, that's what they'll be needing up them ways. Hair like fire I tell you, pretty face too, ain't never seen you around these parts.. But-but what was it you said you did again?" His haggard and heavy face drew closely to her own, promising the full punch of his alcohol-sweetened breath to roll delicately off of his sour tongue and into her little button nose. The old man had tired feel about him, his features sagging and his voice nearly coaxing black smoke from out of his throat. His bald head was the shiniest thing he owned, and judging by the fill of dirt between his nails, probably the cleanest. He dressed himself in typical civilian attire too, except his was more worn and worked in, loosely keeping to his old bones. He had a knowing look about his brown eyes though, eyebrows intrusively questioning her place here amongst thieves.
  2. The eldritch composition of the Sith fleet brooded across the lower orbit of Onderon. Black color-crafts trimmed with the red of battle blood washed each of the vessels that prowled the dark skies. The Black Scarab mounted the planet as crown jewel while the rest of the flotilla moved into a synonymous formation. The Sith Star Dreadnought steered the likes of the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, the Bleeding Kyber. Warspite, Sunder, Hyperion and Blackblade cut their vessels into the black of space as an escort to their command ship. The collective armies and the bodies that conducted them were now aboard and moments away from their jump to the rendezvous coordinates. Those that abandoned the call of their King, would be ostracized from their ruling campaign indiscriminately. (Sith Fleet leaves for Space.)
  3. The words of the Massassi were hard to discern over the thrashing climate, rain and wind pounding terrain ceaselessly, and a film of smog that made it even harder to see. Darkness settled in, and the remnants of dawn bled from the black skies. A howling from all angles shrieked loudly, unapparent where the calls originated from. They were hungry, they were cries more alarming than the fierce atmosphere all around them, more intimidating than any creature one could call to mind. Erupting from the treelines, four enormous bestial shapes lunged with extraordinary speed. The four dashed across the field with a predatorial acuteness, all converging towards the loud and outspoken warrior Sith. Their bodies were a reflection of raw power, skin as hard as steel and a frame broadened with the power of the dark side. Each of them, easily comparable in sheer length to a stalwart speeder, covered from head to toe in dark bristles of hair. Monstrosities was what they were, mountainous bodies but with a swiftness that betrayed their brutish physical appearance. Their natural weapons were thick and sharpened enough to puncture armor of all kind, teeth and talons long and protruding. As they trudged heavily into the wet earth, the mud violently shifted beneath them. They were malformed hounds, salivating uncontrollably as they charged towards their mark. They carried no distinct formation, none that was obvious first-hand anyways, but each of them collaboratively rounded towards the Sith Warrior. Before he knew it, the four of them pounced towards him, all from different inclines, ready to tear him to shreds.
  4. "A frail child representative of the infamous Black Sun, the stoic boy Prince of Panatha, a mongering Neimoidian, the Dathomiri apprentice of the Dark Lord himself, and a giant f—king snake.." They might need a name— Valandil smiled with stained and broken teeth as they approached, as they mingled, and as their presences unrolled amidst the group. Each of them had a very vivid personality about them, even if nothing was spoken, there was much to be said in silence. Valandil watched amusingly as the inception of a small drama unfolded, but knew this was neither the time nor the place. "Okay! Okay!" The supervisor swung the sash of the spear from his shoulder, and planted the butt of his weapon firmly in front of his feet, sound loudly echoing off of the bridge they stood upon. Three Growler-556s were stationed all around them, all retrofitted to fit a pair of passengers instead of the customary 1. "We've got some hunting to do! Pair up!" Valandil brushed the unkempt hair from his face and pointed his spear towards the destination that they would soon find themselves. Their second-handed chariots that would get them there, were individually painted with distinction for identification purposes. Valandil kicked his first foot forward, and the metal pistons in his legs pushed functionally towards the all black Growler. The white one to the right held a fair bit of rust beneath the front-left turbine, while the red paint on the third landspeeder was peeling from front to back. Valandil strapped himself into the driver seat, and flared the engines, roaring the old engine across the walls of Dragon's Gate. He would allow them a few moments to get sorted, and wondered which of the five would find themselves accompanying him in his own cockpit. [OOC: Pair up, and let's get rolling, the fun begins now]
  5. S I T H C A M P A I G N [The Scourge of Nabara] Centuries ago, a ferocious legion of Taung tribesmen rampaged across this land, but were halted at the Battle of the Blood Reef by the power of an estranged Dark side sorcerer and his minions. The March of the Tyrant, as it was known, unleashed brute Sith Magic to defeat the warrior horde on those very plains. Stories tell of the Tyrants' raw ability to manipulate the land, subduing and imprisoning the unrelenting tribes beneath the war-torn terrain. Over time followers and survivors of the proud people began worship over the final resting place of these tribal warriors and built catacombs of cold stone over the battlefield in their honor. The influence of the Hjertet av Raseri is beginning to thaw out an ever ancient power, warming spirits of the dead that have long been lost to the annals of history. It is a plague that has resulted in a quarantine of a large circumference of land in the deep South of Onderon, investigation reveals that the plague was created by the aggressive expanse of the nearby Hjertet av Raseri and is centered around a festering populace of afflicted fauna. A team of scout troopers enlisted to survey the area, but communications with the group have been nothing short of failure. A distress beacon has recently been deployed in the thick of it, but the objective is buried too far beneath the deep cover of the forest. It is impossible for our ships to rendezvous, you must adhere to the ground game. Several stationed speeders are untenanted just outside of Dragons' Gate, use these to spark your journey, for travel to the South is long-winded. The damp forests of Nabara was known as the dwelling-place of these Taung, and those that now occupy the area reflect the gladiatorial qualities of those that were before. The forest was a haven for those that lived for the hunt, who were able to survive and live off of the land. Nabara is a large expanse of connected woodlands, with long, murky streams running along the relentless undergrowth and a magnificent variety of animals living in the foliage of the incredibly tall trees. Most that live in the region still build their homes like their ancestors did, constructing houses and huts high into the trees and on the treetops. Since Nabara can be and often is a cruel home, few of these settlements are permanent. These forests are also home to a great variety of dangerous beasts, ranging from the more mundane Tee-muss all the way to terrifying Drexl and Gutkurr. 1) Reach the Beacon 2) Eliminate the Afflicted 3) Optional: Redezvous with the Scouting Party Guide: Lord Exodus Participants: [sith] Exodus [sith] [Telperien Ar-Pharazon] [ MISSING ] [sith] [Nok Morliss] [ MISSING ] [sith] [snake] [ MISSING ] [sith] [Milenko] [ MISSING ] [Ally] [Celora Karth] [ MISSING ] OOC THREAD* - Look Here ============================================================================================== Chapter One R E N D E Z V O U S Valandil Simmons is an exceptionally handsome man, but beneath the good looks is a shallow, abrasive personality. He often stares vacantly into the distance, mentally dissecting the intricacies of his lifeline. He is perceptive and has good knowledge of survival in Onderon and is usually seen buried in traditional card games. He usually wears a black robe and has his spear slung over his shoulder. His long chestnut hair reaches down to his waist and wears a strange pair of goggles to shield his eyes. Beneath his robe he wears a custom-built plate barding that's adorned with green lining and jungle motifs. Valandil is envious of those that immerse themselves in the adrenaline of adventure, for his time as a Onderonion hunter ended prematurely when his legs were viciously ripped from their sockets by a pregnant Drexl. He spends his days hoarding small treasures and trading for art, and anything that he so desires. Nonetheless Valandil is a true patriot, and would do anything for his people. He is fiercely protective of his fellow citizens and foreign allies. By the narrow neck of Dragon Gate, he watched for five particular individuals who had been assigned to his post, knowing his message had reached them the night prior. Just outside of the bastion, Valandil was accompanied by several ground-speeders, all of varying sizes. The odd folk, or hunter, or trooper would pass him by and enter through the Gate, or would follow the fork in the road to enter Iziz by other means. The cold and dark bridge however is where he pondered a great many things, mostly alone. With nothing but the scruff of his beard in one hand, and a chewed smoke-pipe dangling from the tip of his lips, he sat and waited..
  6. “Mr. Morliss, your timing is a curious one. The ruins and corpses that your vessel swims through, came seeking the Sith all the same. Be careful what you ask for. Proceed to harbor A3789, you will be processed for inspection. Thorough coordinates are being uploaded to your navigation system, it is strongly advised that you do not deviate.” The uplink muzzled out and the directions through the minefield transferred to the Bleeding Edge. Other off-world transports would tail behind this ship, just as ships that had come before were accelerating towards a similar pathway. Traffic towards Iziz City would be choked until the minefield was bridled by the same operations team that had laid them. Once the Bleeding Edge had touched down, a dedicated sweep of the ship, and an interrogation of those on-board would be customary.
  7. "Lady Darksong," The world-weary voice peeled from the shadows casted by the metal walls surrounding the entrance to the command center, and now the full figure of a man approached her slowly. A smooth and synthetic black armor covered the messenger entirely, no trace of who or what he was. He was no a muscular creature, for traveling the shadows as he did, beckoned him to be the lightest he could be on his feet. The helmet that sheltered the world from his features shared similarities to that of the common Sith Trooper, but this held no color and carried the etchings of a spider-web scratched into the full-visor. "..It is an honor." The Shadow bowed deeply and knelt onto bended knee, expressing his admiration for the power that this woman held. "There has been a development on the world of Korriban, Vardin Valley has been restored to health." As he spoke, he turned his palm over and then opened it to reveal a chained medallion. This one differed vastly from the ones that the newcomers of the Valley were now in a rave about. This medallion was crafted diligently, compounded with the finest of metals the Krath had access too. Buried inside the centerpiece of the medallion, an exquisite black jewel laid asleep. The messenger extended his lanky arm, and offered the important piece of jewelry to Master Darksong. "He has chosen you to rule over the Bastion of Pelko." The Shadow, through his otherworldly tone of voice, waited patiently with the gift in arm.
  8. ___ Over the course of the weeks prior, the capital of Onderon and the settlements that neared, lifted their hesitations of the new administration of power. It was an unfamiliar aura, one that the people believed would doom them as soon as the peaceful acquisition was completed. Truth was, this civilization had been anchored from the poor supervision of those that came before. Occupations opened up all across the districts; developmental work on structures that were left in poor conditions, professions that the Black Sun provided the people, depreciated defenses that left the public at risk had now been re-tooled and reinforced. The treasuries swelled, public morale sky-rocketed and the safety of the general population had never been this invested in. Crime was at an all-time low, and order had been established across the board with teams of councils to dole out new legislation. Open trade boomed louder than ever, which was illustrated by the amount of off-world vessels that charted back and forth. The alliance between the Sith and the Black Sun coined a brilliant theme of collaboration that the communities took note of, and even employed into their own everyday lives. Ever since the Jedi had abandoned them, enthusiasts made their voices well-known, condemning the dogmatic preachings of the Jedi and embracing the freedom and liberation that Emperor of the Sith had driven. Consecrated places of worship became a new trend throughout Iziz, a service to the Dark Lord and what his power meant to them. This was the healthiest the settled localities of Onderon had been, especially with a subdued fear from the creatures that remained outside of the wall. The Sith and Black Sun made it sport to hunt these creatures, and host monumental feasts with the public in celebration. The communion between the Onderonians, the Sith, and the Black Sun had bonded the three parts into one. They began to share their beliefs to the core, and preach them as their own, a mental conviction of strengthening self fundamentally by any means. Growth of Onderon, and its people, was at last blossoming.
  9. The bedfloor of sand that covered the expanse just outside of the Praxeum reminded him of an amphitheater that he and others would spill blood in for sport. It was a time when war ran deep between all factions, and indiscriminate murder was how one survived. The smell of sweat and blood still stained his nostrils, and he could never soak the stench from his skin. His scales reflected a profuse red, perhaps forever drenched in the life force of those he had slaughtered. The mildew of Korriban was different now, and the caliber of warriors that existed paled in comparison to what it once was. General Omm reviewed the responses from the children before him, noticing the another that had arrived at the burly gates. Sickly eyes, filled with the curiosity of a carnivorous reptile, searching all three men thoroughly. Their emotions, their body languages, and the tone of their voices all provided detail into who and what they were. "Acolytesss Camik, Acheron, and Nieve. You three will be the firssst of many, to usssher in a new era. You have come ill-prepared for battle, but I asssssure you, that will change ssswiftly under my command. Wherever you carry yourssselvess, you must be prepared. Your life will be challenged. If you are not ready for thisss, your journey will end before you know it." General Omm reviewed the three of them, and extended his powerful arm to the West. "There exissstss an inssstitution to the Wessst, your admissssion into the Sssith beginsss there. Enter the deposssitory and retrieve the bassicss of whatever weaponsss you desssire. Tell them the General hass ssent you. When you've gathered yoursselvess. Take the carrier to the Wesst and you will come upon the Academy. I will sssee you all there." (Access the small facility, take a starter melee/ranged weapon that will represent the combative direction you want your character to take on, and then take a small transport West to the Academy. It will be a new topic, which isn't created yet, but will be. So look out for that.)
  10. Ships of all classifications hailed across the lands. An outpouring of meticulous Sith task forces bled into the forests and small settlements. Creatures covered in black armor from head-to-toe moved unnervingly with eerie discipline and formation. Battalions moved swiftly to subdue the opposition without an inkling of mercy, enslaving those that survived and butchering those that clung to their stubborn insistence. Their presentation was a first for the galaxy at large to bear witness too, for the movement of the Sith Legion had only existed in stories decades old. They were here now, as invasive as any nightmare, and overwhelming in presence. There were vessels that hauled large quantities of these soldiers, monstrous vehicles, and also ships re-purposed for the detainment of fresh slaves. In the midst of these enormous deployments there were few who were cloaked in the wicked vestments of a Sith Lord, and these were the creatures that marshaled an animosity that shredded the opposition with blinding terror. Kashyyyk was no match.
  11. The Sith and the Umbaran defense fleet earmarked another advancement in their machine with the completion of a planetary shield system that would cover the planet whole. The automation of the defense grid was built on the premise of a fractional refresh rate, which magnified the importance of the capital world. The citizens of Umbara understood the sophistication of their protections and hailed the Sith as a necessary evolution to their current technological standings. With the brilliant minds that the kin of this world had had access too, the construction of an efficient time-table which monitored the shield system was concocted and put into exercise. The regulation of these times were made known to a select few, as well as the power that sourced this entire project. In light of the progressions, the overall security of Umbara would tighten further and the grip that the Sith Empire held on this dark world was just where it needed to be. The civilization droned harder than ever before in military exercises, and their industrial factories boomed with profit and produce.
  12. Warchief Dzadûr was a beast of a creature that fascinated over the hunt. The thrill of the chase aroused his blackened heart to a plane of madness he could never recover from. His unwieldy mass rivaled that of even Sheog The Mad, and his brutish aggression had no place in the cockpit of some metal chariot. Yet and still, his heavy and bestial breath pumped through the hollow commline from a station below, allowing the haunting of his presence to motivate the swiftness of the patrol formations intercepting the trespassing vessel. The precious cargo freight vanished impatiently as units of starfighters equipped with lethal force surrounded the two rather imprudent pilots and chaperoned them out of sight. What would become of the inestimable stock was an unpublished truth between the higher ranking posts within the auspicious Sith Empire. Make no mistake, anything caught in the web that Exodus spun would be torn asunder and picked threadbare for all the little seeds that would allow his people to flourish once more.
  13. “No one will pick the pieces up for you. I think you should. I think you should pick them up and put them in all the little places that they fit. If you don’t they will be the openings to your mind and your body and your soul that will be manipulated by all. You would’ve done a dress well Lady Keenava, but that isn’t in your cards.” The blue field of sky still shone bright, but the environment changed swiftly. The conversation was distracting, the thoughts and the ideals were enough to suck the mind into the deepest recesses of a time past. It was inevitable that this woman suffered, but for all the ears that listened to the ship, it was tell-tale that she needed to find her peace before she could be unleashed and feared for what she could become. Sand slammed against the hull of the ship, and alarms for turbulence flared to break the seriousness of their conversation. The harsh shudders woke the pilot, but he smiled and knew it was time. Below the ship was maelstroms of sand, not anything else but a sea of it. The sand shifted and spun high into the atmosphere, and then fell peacefully back to where it came from. But there was more, there was something far more sinister below. The sands shifted unnaturally, there was-- “.. Stay alive, Lady Keenava. Until we meet again.” Keenava, and the seat she was strapped into, burst from the entire manifest and plunged into the deep below. The pilot waved gleefully from the hull.
  14. The flat surface of the temple unwound to unleash the first apprentice since the creation of Arachnakorr. A man adorned in the wear of the Arachnakorian standards stood with an excited smile pasted across his face. He was a polished man from head to toe and his noble red and turquoise uniform was without a wrinkle. “Lord Keenava!” He waved familiarly towards what he perceived to be a woman full of distress, but his enthusiasm could never die, he lived to serve. The escort shuttle was fired up and primed to venture forward and continue her lessons; the door reeled open and once the woman braced herself for the ride, they were off. “Lord Keenava. We are headed towards the Sands of the Demon Moon.” He laughed quickly, nervously but still a smile laced his appearance. “It isn’t so bad really, and you’re strong, I can tell you’re strong. You’re young too, and very pretty might I add-- But I! Oh, I’m rambling again.” The ship lifted far into the skies and a refreshing flow of light beamed beautifully across the luxury escort-class, the worldcraft was nothing short of beautiful in every direction. “Pretty isn’t it? It is a gift. But you know that, or you will I think. I brought you clean clothes, they’re under the seat next to you, but where we’re going you may have no use for them just yet. You don’t talk much, do you? Or do you have no tongue? I’ve seen that before you know, I use to be a warrior myself, but mostly in my head. Or is it my breath? I’m sorry my Lady. Why is it you want to be a warrior anyways? Not like Master Ryu in the books I mean, but I mean a Sith? Why do you want to be a Sith?" He finally turned his head to look towards his passenger, his head filled with curiosity, and his joy for being entrusted with precious cargo was unmatched.
  15. The halls were embroidered with common-folk dappered in all black robes, each of them carried a vivid illustration of an emerald spider on their back. It was an ocean of thrillers; countless of men, women and children that walked unobstructed and poured through the deep halls. Their faces were impossible to define and how each of them wore their hoods as low as their nose added to the difficulty. One would wonder where the celebrations had moved too as well, and what happened to the pure ardor that shook the temple when the new Sith was born. The vitalities were replaced with a morose formation of dark wanderers that stepped in-sync to an invisible tune. Exodus was nowhere to be seen inside of the crowds of black. Chandeliers filled with raw flame hung from the tall outcrops of the ceilings, and the sand-touched stone walls held only what could be considered cave-paintings all across them. These drawings were archaic and held a truth that only few could truly understand. At a particular bend in the hall, there was an access point that was encapsulated in the same metal that covered the top of the temple; this is where one of few exits were located. Here, a transport ship awaited the Lord in action.
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