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Darth Nyrys

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  1. The strange and archaic weapon had a greater spread than Nyrys anticipated, and as a result it still clipped her shoulder armor and sent her spinning, although her training kept her from losing her footing completely. She recovered by extending her left leg, bending her right, and lowering her center of gravity with dancer like poise until she reached a predatory stance. “Did it ever occur to you that by that logic you’re just as guilty of your own side’s massacres? I’m from Kuat, and my people were builders on one of the civilian ship manufacturing stations. They had no part in this damned war, and they were slaughtered anyway. Maybe you can explain to them why they had to die?” It was like vomiting acid and tears, crafting and projecting this illusion. To take those happy images of her cousins, aunts, and uncles, and twist them into representations of their mangled corpses. What remained was virtually inhuman, but with just enough humanity to bring about that unsettling connection. Their flesh was burnt into grotesque mockeries of human faces, and their movements were disjointed and fitful, the bones and muscles that supported them broken and torn by incomprehensible force. The little bodies clutched the remains of favored toys that they had once held for reassurance as the New Republic murdered them all with self righteous zeal. However, despite their monstrous appearance these were no boogeymen or phantasmal chimera meant for attacking. They were effigies of sadness and mourning, weeping as they shambled and crawled towards the marshal. All of them had the same one word question on their blistered lips. “Why?” A chorus of scared and confused voices erupted from the amassing crowd of bodies as they circled and pressed in on the Shistavanen. Nyrys herself stood in the background, clutching a nearby console and trying to choke back tears from having to imagine her family this way. Her blade was ready to guard but she made no move to attack. She drowned the room in an even deeper quietude, one so heavy that you would have to strain to hear even shouting. Only the whispered question was permitted to be heard easily in the room. ((2))
  2. OOC((Incapacitation of NPCs was agreed upon over Discord, I’ve also agreed to no NPCs interfering with the Mythos duel on the Sith side.)) After a time, the ramp fell, and a Jedi shot out of the hold and up onto the maintenance catwalks like a small rodent on methamphetamines. Her apprentice dutifully followed him up, knowing what was expected of him in this encounter. Nyrys, not keen on having her apprentice’s test interfered with, turned her attention to the disembarking rebels. At her suggestion, their minds perceived their weapons turning into venomous snakes and striking at them until they collapsed into a catatonic stupor. Well, all of them save for a Shistaven canid. She had studied them in her sociological trends of sapient predatory species class at uni, they were physically capable with the keen senses that were part and parcel of being a superior hunting species. In many ways they were similar to the Cathar, in a poorly refined, underevolved sort of way. Budget Cathar. But an intriguing distraction nonetheless. Unnatural silence began to infect the air as an otherworldly fog flooded into the bay, a crimson bank of obscuration. It was an obvious illusion, but knowing that it was an illusion did not necessarily lift it’s suffocating pall. The fog did not reach the catwalks, Nyrys had been sincere in her position of not aiding her apprentice in his test. Darth Nyrys drew Brathiad Gwynt as she started to feel the dread and suffering of the innocents on Dark Sun station. When military ships were hit with ion cannons, the crew knew the appropriate procedures, had equipment to survive, and knew that engineers would be working to fix things. A junior banker living in an econo hab block as a wage slave wasn’t going to have any of those reassurances as the station went dark, the power doors stopped working, and the life support died. It was going to be Kamino all over again. Blistering fury gushed through Nyrys like molten steel and she flowed through the fog like a quicksilver apparition, darting in with a light probing strike from Brathiad Gwynt before departing with preternatural speed back into the fog. Mockingly playful laughter accompanied her during the attack, sourceless and disconcerting. “I can feel them dying right now, you know. How can you claim to care about the innocent when you always so casually sacrifice their lives in horrific ways? The Crusaders rampage through the core and you do nothing but hide, but a military strike against a civilian space station and suddenly you’re all patriots of justice? COWARDS, ALL OF YOU!” Duel Post One Darth Nyrys vs Mythos
  3. Slipblades are Sith swords designed primarily for thrusting that allow the blade to “slip” through the handle, allowing the blade to extend and recede at the will of the wielder, even to the point of extending fully out of pommel and effectively reversing the orientation of the blade. Warriors and assassins with sufficient skill (lord rank) can temporarily launch the blade in a thrusting motion beyond the confines of the handle, but after that initial launch if the next movement is not a return to the handle the blade’s momentum slows to normal telekinesis speed and any further actions require traditional telekinesis control. The slipblade is a new weapon design and its properties in the hands of a master have not been demonstrated, but greater versatility in its ejected state is a solid supposition.
  4. OOC((Duel request for Mythos and Aidan's stunt double aboard the Scarab)) A black canvas painted with fleeting streaks of red, green, and blue, along with the occasional orange or blue blossom of explosive energy lay before Darth Nyrys. In another respect, it looked like a top down perspective RTS game, something she would have played with her friends during the Before. This wasn’t her first time being on a warship during a battle, but it was the first time that she had seen the Jedi maintain enough of a spine to commit to an extended firefight. She hadn’t been present at Onderon for the second battle, but she had read reports and according to them, the Jedi ran after only minimal contact. Apparently here they had sought to isolate the Black Sun fleet and overwhelm it with the help of their allies, the fragmented remains of the Galactic Alliance and the treacherous Imperial Remnant. Failures and oathbreakers were fitting company for the hypocritical Jedi. On paper, the Jedi sounded like heroes of legend, warrior mystics dedicated to protecting the light and the people that carry it. Selfless individuals who wielded power but never owned it. Goodness in a vast void of apathy and cruelty. The reality however painted a far less compelling picture. Cultures genocided for failing to step in line, children stolen away from parents and forced into cult like indoctrination, slave armies of clones, planets burned or worse for picking the “wrong” side. War didn’t make heroes, only popular monsters, and the Jedi had been fighting this war for as long as the Sith had. Nyrys didn’t begrudge the Jedi for the life they chose, in different circumstances she would find it admirable, but their need to force others to surrender to their beliefs was unforgivable. Remembering her mother and father sitting her down and telling her that her Grammy and her aunts and uncles and cousins were all gone still brought forth palpable feelings of grief, loss, helplessness, and rage. It was a massive emotional wound shared by the survivors, and it was left untreated until it festered and became infected. When the Jedi saw what had been born of their actions, they admonished the weeping and the wounded for having such a darkness growing within them, and denied any wrongdoing. So much for champions of justice. The Galactic Alliance would later pardon the Jedi that committed the murders, and he would quietly slip away from the public’s narrow focus as new scandals and controversies arose. But his legacy remained, and the Kuati people would never forget the crimes of the Jedi and the Rebellion. Now that legacy of violence had come to Dark Sun Station, and while killing its adherents would bring no meaningful justice to the dead of Kuat, it might just save the civilians on the station. She cast herself into the infinite chaos of interwoven connections between candle flames in the Force, a web of silver strands reflecting a sourceless iridescent light. After some searching, she found what she was looking for amidst the swirling confusion. “Prepare bay epsilon for a shuttle seizure and inform gunnery that I want this enemy shuttle tractored in. I expect things will go smoothly, but just in case, be prepared to seal and vent the bay should things take an unexpected turn.” The junior officer took the datapad with the shuttle designation and moved with purpose to execute Nyrys’s orders. Nyrys took a moment to regard the Dark Lord, inscrutable as always as he observed the battle unfolding. She wondered if her efforts had been enough to satisfy his expectations for a new agent. Perhaps her doubt was baseless, but it kept her sharp and always looking for ways to better herself. “The Dark Lord is the will, and we are the blade.” She punctuated the motto with a salute of thumping her hand over her heart while holding her sword just below the hilt on the scabbard. Gathering up her apprentice she departed to meet their new prey. “The next phase of your training will require that you overcome an enemy of some ability, an adept of the Force like yourself, in single combat. I will not aid you in this trial outside of preventing outside interference, and failure most likely will result in death. May you find your worth in your sword’s poetry.” The pair arrived at the bay and at Nyrys’s instruction took cover as the gunnery crew began reeling in their prey. “Situations like this, find something that you trust to not fail under enemy fire, and wait for them to blow their load on the charge. They’ll always start with something meant to make people duck or leave cover, deny both, remain level headed, and when they get in range make a clean strike.”
  5. Developer introduction and notes Alpha pitch for task forces Each player participating in a fleet battle commands their own task force. If the numbers are uneven, then the admiral with fewer task forces can either choose to take a number of unranked task forces to create an equal conflict, or request a secret win objective from the mods if it makes narrative sense to do so. No engagement is ever considered to include any faction’s entire fleet, and players can enter subsequent battles even if their last task force suffered total destruction. Player commanders are responsible for their task force’s ship composition, names, traditions, and portrayal in the RP, not to mention their actions on the field. If a PC leading a task force is killed, the task force forfeits one round of ability use, and then returns to normal function the following round. Task forces(TFs) gain levels from participating in fleet combat, Any PC led task force starts at blooded, needs two additional battles for veteran, and three further battles for elite (As in, it takes six battles in total to gain elite status). A task force that loses over half of its ships loses a level of veterancy, and a task force that is wiped out loses all veterancy unless it has a bonus to prevent that. Withdrawing is a full round action, but can prevent the loss of valuable experience and abilities. Commanders are expected to maintain lines of communication and goodwill to the opposing players. All fleet abilities are announced at the beginning of the round (in secret) and resolved at the end of the round to represent simultaneous events rather than each post being slightly later in the timeline. Players that fail to meet the three day rule requirement are assumed to repeat their last action if possible. If it’s the first round, their commander is assumed to have choked. Since all actions are determined at the beginning, and resolved at the end, post order of combatants is irrelevant as long as they post in the round, and the three day countdown goes into effect at the start of the round. Some task forces in this list mention that they are supported by smaller ships, such as the Interdiction Cadre. Leaders of these task forces can choose to reallocate removal abilities from their key ship to other ships in the task force to represent other ships tanking fire to keep their key piece on the field. Other task forces are escorts, and can attach themselves to other task forces to allow their ships to serve as support. Cruiser and capital escorts cannot intercept bomber attacks. Removal abilities that overkill a target with damage have the excess distributed to another target in the task force, and if necessary however many more targets are required to account for all of the damage. If the task force is destroyed entirely, the remaining damage is lost. Ship scaling: A Task Force is 6 points One capital is 6 points. One cruiser is 3 points. One frigate is 1 point. Three corvettes are 1 point. (Targeted removal charts will be located at the bottom of the doc for easier comparison and formatting) Task Forces Removal effects and ship health Ship shields and hull by type Corvette: 1(This is not to imply that corvettes don’t have shields, just that the scale of firepower we’re measuring makes them irrelevant.) Frigate: 3/3 Cruiser: 9/9 Capital: 20/20 Damage per by ship type Bomber Wing: 4 Cruiser: 4 Capital: 6 Starfighter Actions Each side gets one starfighter action per round, with some task forces providing additional ones. Bombers Inbound: The fleet’s bombers move to engage a frigate or larger ship, doing direct removal damage. When bombers target ships supported by corvettes their damage is reduced by one. Interception: The commander issuing the order picks two task forces, they cannot cannot be targeted by bombers for this round. Dogfighting: The fleet’s dogfighters focus on clearing a lane for their bombers or interceptors. One Bombers Inbound action does double damage next turn or one Interception action covers an additional task force.
  6. Personal Scale Ysalamir -Only PCs OR one person of their accompanying retinue can carry ysalamir. -Anyone carrying a ysalamiri must account for the bulk and weight of an adult, full sized version of the creature, and it must be properly situated on a nutrient frame, no more lizard in a lunchbox antics. -Constructs and amulets can function internally at reduced capacity for one post in range, then go to barely functional. They lose any external functions immediately. Reanimants treat ysalamir like vampires treat crosses, they keep them at bay but do not destroy them. Factions have a yearly cap of ten ysalamir that they can harvest/maintain at one time. If those ten are lost in battle before the year’s end, the faction will have to cope without. Ysalamir cannot be stolen by another faction as a work around, and new factions will start with their full allotment at faction creation (Creating new factions as a workaround to running out of ysalamir will not be tolerated). Faction leaders have final say on ysalamir use. Factions can lend out ysalamir to freelancers, but not other factions. Cortosis Due to varying examples in canon, we have decided that Cortosis will work the following way on our board: - Cortosis Alloy(s), as seen in KoToR, functions as expected, it is lightsaber resistant and suitable for making vibroblades and similar weapons from to properly defend against lightsabers. -Raw/Pure/Refined Cortosis, or basically any iteration of the material not mixed in an alloy, significantly drains the power from a lightsaber with each hit. Lightsabers retain the ability to block, almost like in a training setting, but immediately lose the energy necessary to cut through materials. This can be fixed by simply power cycling the lightsaber (turning it off and on). Several hits and the RPer should consider having to swap out the lightsaber's power cell for realism's sake. This kind of cortosis is prohibited from being used in weapons/bullets/any offensive capacity designed to automatically imply deactivation/power reduction of a lightsaber in a chain effect to subvert another RPer's agency to react. Basically, don't use it in weapons. Beskar -While it's reasonable to believe that anyone can acquire beskar with enough money and connections, the secrets to properly forging the material remain a well guarded Mandalorian secret. As such, Mandalorian iron armor is largely limited to members of this elite warrior culture, and their closest allies. Sith Steel and other Sith alchemies -A specialty once monopolized by the Krath, the warriors of the Sith are now the primary producers of this alloy, using it in their arms and armor. -NFUs can wear and use items of these materials, but it doesn't give them any benefit, unless you consider spiritual cancer a benefit. -Jedi can wear and use items of these materials, and gain their benefits, but doing so usually means they won't be Jedi for long. Disruptors Mechanically, totally legal. In character, SUPER illegal. Role play accordingly.
  7. A curated active RPer list to know who is currently around.
  8. The Dark Side is a pathway to many abilities that some would consider unnatural. I used them to locate your character sheet. Name: Revan Khanjell Nickname: Darth Revan, RK. Species: Human Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Dark Red Clothing: He wears a medium-based phrik armor set with a personal shield built within the armor. His face mask covers all but his eyes. There are two fore-arm blasters implanted on his armor. Weapons: A cortosis weaved vibroblade created with a curved handle. As from his times as a Sith Lord, he built a crimson bladed lightsaber made from the amulet his father had given him so long ago. Home Planet: Coruscant Gender: Male History: Revan was a happy child. He lived with his mother and his brother on Coruscant. His fater valiantly died in the Republic Navy in a daring rescue mission. His mother and them were left alone. However, that did not stop them. They were a happy family. Until one night, three dark figures came to their door. Their faces were concealed. They barged in, and kidnapped Revan's brother. His mother and him had put up a fight, but they were no match to the mysterious figures who he later found were Sith. After a devastating three days of contacting Corsucant Authority, and a large search had been placed, they had no luck. Even though his mother was emotionally distraught, and would love for her now only son to stay with her, she had to let go. Revan had to fulfill his destiny. So, he joined the Jedi. He was trained vigourously from the get-go. He was trained by a Jedi Master known as Nom Anorus, a very skilled Jedi and master of the form III. Whilst mastering that specific form, he was also taught Form IV by a Jedi Master known as Onderin Starlisk. He quickly rose to the rank of Jedi Knight, and became a great asset to the Jedi Order. However, his glory was soon doubted. He became...somewhat...delirious. Oblivious to what was going on. He felt...neglected, as though the Jedi didn't recognize his abilities. Moving further and further into Isolation he was soon found. On a daring solo mission, he encountered the Dark Lord Of The Sith, Kakuto Ryu and immedialy, the Dark Lord bonded with his mind. He entered his thoughts and corrupted them, and entered his dreams and made them nightmares. With that, came the power to persuade Revan to turn on the Jedi. However, Revan refused to give in. The pain had stopped for a while, giving Revan the idea that he had been vanquished by Revan's own determination to stay with the lightside of the force. But that soon changed. He found himself on Haruun Kal, training his first ever padawan. But there, a Sith Master known as Alora found herself there, sent by the Dark Lord himself to taint Revan, capture him, and bring him forth to Kakuto. Putting up a fight, he was no match for Alora's seductive ways and soon fell into her grasp along with his padawan. Being chained up, he was brought forth to the Dark Lord himself where he immediatly began his training. Night and day, 24-7 he was bombarded with sadistic memories of Kakuto and it soon corrupted his mind. He became suicidal, and very viscious, like an animal. His body began transform physically and mentally became more of a savage everyday. Kakuto had raided his mind, and replaced his thoughts of the Jedi with the mentality of the Sith. He became the Dark Lord's puppet. He was trained vigourously. But no matter how much Kakuto implanted evil thoughts into his mind, he still remembered his former master, Nom Anorus. He had to find him. Either to kill him, or see him one last time. Searching for him through the force, he eventually detected him through his senses. Revan traveled to Mechis III, where he approached his former master. It was a dramatic moment for the two of them, and their bond shined through the blackness of Revan's heart. Revan became weak. His love and bond for his former master was too much for him to handle, and he fell to Nom Anorus's words. However, Kakuto was not going to let his hard work be in vain. He too followed Revan, and arrived on Mechis III in the nick of time. Torn between both sides of his heart, he was unable to fight for himself. And the Dark Lord and the Jedi Master fought for control of Revan. In a long, tedious and bloody duel, the Dark Lord eventually gained the upper hand and destroyed Nom Anorus, killing him on the spot, adding to the pain and darkness to Revan's already tainted soul. Taking control of Revan once more, he finished his training. For his trials, he dueled a Jedi Padawan known as Durandal. The Jedi had escaped Revan's grasp and ran. For his valor, Revan obtained Sith Lord rank. Facing brutal nightmares, Revan eventually turned himself from an emotionally disable Sith, to a determined Jedi. He once again came into the light, somewhat "Reborn" into the Jedi Order once more. However, he could not escape his true destiny. Eventually, he was over taken by the Sith inside of him and rejoined his brothers yet again. Through hard work and more training, he was up for his master trials. He passed them with ease and gained master rank within the Sith brotherhood. However, it wasn't long before a change of heart was set. He is now affiliated with DarkWatch Securities, to where he lies his alliegance to Lord Dagon. No matter the strength of any faction, some rise and some fall. Whilst Darkwatch Securities was no more, Revan began a new quest. His affiliation now lies with the Empire...where it should so long ago. Force User Trained by: Nom Anorus/Kakuto Ryu/Onderin Starlisk Padawans/Apprentices Trained: Reideran Hasl Current Affiliation: Empire Edited July 19, 2009 by Guest (see edit history)
  9. Looking for a duel for your PC for fun or advancement? Post here to throw down the gauntlet.
  10. We are currently in the middle of a comprehensive update to our information resources, but here are the cliff notes: The Galactic Alliance has failed after years of supremacy, following a number of decisive victories by the Sith under the leadership of the Dark Lord Exodus. The scattered remnants of its military is regrouping after an alliance with the Imperial Remnant (Think Pellaeon era imperials), and Admiral Slaughter is currently launching a rescue mission with coalition forces to rescue Empress Raven. The Jedi assisting the rescue are led by Adenna Alluyen, a revanchist Jedi grand master set on taking a more hard line stance on Sith and Black Sun activity. The assault is targeting Black Sun's Dark Sun space station, a pet project of Black Sun leader Zalis that is currently being defended by Blood Prince Delta.
  11. This is a list of active volunteer mentors and their specialties. (Reply in the thread to be added, must be experienced and in good standing with the community) Darth Nyrys (World building, character ideas, all things fleets, dueling, rules queries, story ideas, and content creation) Ary the Grey (Writing, PvP, world building, and plotsmithing, extensive site experience)
  12. Notify others of extended absences by posting here.
  13. The Scarab was immense, a bigger, blacker expression of the Dark Lord’s power than even the spire on Onderon. As much a status symbol as a machine of war, the Scarab offered far more logistical support to the Sith aboard it than most capital ships. For the first time in what seemed like too long, Nyrys had access to a forge again. Forging arms and armor were in their own way snapshots of Nyrys’s life. Whatever she made reflected the trials she was facing at the time, a moment of conflict cast into permanence Sith steel and sorcery. She bid her apprentice observe her as she worked, for his own edification. She was proficient enough with the Force to shape the metals through will alone, but she was fond of the traditional methods of hammer and anvil. The heat, exertion, and rhythm allowed her mind to wander to other places, to rummage through deeper ambitions and desires. The fleet was rallying in totality so she had time to work in depth on her new weapon. Gwn Marwolaeth was an excellent all around blade, but Nyrys wanted something more specialized towards thrusting in the advent of combat in tight spaces.The blade was forty inches long from guard to point at full extension, with a two handed grip and guard. A combination of technology and sorcery allowed the blade to secure or slide through the hilt and out the pommel, creating a blade that could shorten or even reverse direction at will. She called it a slipblade, and she was rather pleased with how it turned out. The next stage of the work was new territory for Nyrys, a process of cursing the blade so heavily that it was essentially poisonous. The maleficence of the curses would cause necrosis upon a successful stabbing, filling the body with lethal toxins. The curses were tattooed onto captives, who were then flayed, and the flesh was wrapped around the blade and burned until it transubstantiated into maladictive runes. Nyrys wrote curses of vengeance for Kuat, and for her loved ones that had died there. The steel blackened and radiated an ethereal glow of sickly green. “I will call you Brathiad Gwynt.” She spent a great deal of time familiarizing herself with her new weapon and sparring with Drago, who was getting to be solidly average with the lightsaber. She still took a sample for cloning purposes anyway. Sorcerers were… vulnerable during their early periods of training. With her new weapon she headed to the bridge of the Scarab to stand with the Dark Lord in his crusade.
  14. The stay on Mandalore had changed over the days of sensor silence, drifting from tense preparations to idle hours spent training beneath a specter of uncertainty. Some thought that the Crusaders were building up their forces for an overwhelming assault, others believed that the horde had buckled under its own explosive expansion and imploded. Lissi had coordinated with the Mandalorians to retain some combat instructors for 03, both to sharpen his unarmed combat skills and to strengthen ties with the locals. While she could certainly deliver a lethal show of force while unarmed, Nyrys’ own methods were far removed from the precision strikes prevalent in 03’s style, instead capitalizing on the presence of heavy armor, leverage, throws, and bending things in ways they were not meant to be bent. Engineering versus artistry and all that. Drago was thriving in his research, completing his assignments with thoroughness and imagination. While her two apprentices conversed, a dispatch came in for Nyrys, from Onderon. War had come for them after all. It was only a matter of time really. She sent a message to an old mentor on Korriban, along with a healthy sum of credits for the work if he chose to accept the offer. There were too many fakes on the market to trust a third party on this matter. After the present storm was weathered she could teach her apprentices how to forge their own arms, but for now they would get acceptable substitutes. At least one Sith would need to remain planetside as a sign of Sith presence to the Mandalorian leadership. At first glance Drago seemed the natural choice, his training was about to bear serious fruit, and while having some martial background, he wasn’t the brawler that 03 was. However, without supervision, his desire to experiment and insatiable curiosity could easily lead to a faux pas that might damage or even sever diplomatic ties. Better to leave the nascent warrior among his own. Besides, sooner or later, Drago would need to face the enemies of the Sith. “Sons of mine, the Dark Lord has called his banners and mobilized the fleet. While I had hoped to have time to teach you to craft your own weapons, we have been summoned with a great deal of urgency. So for now, I have gifts for you. When I was an apprentice on Korriban, I gained a reputation for my work in the forge, where I studied under the forgemaster. A Sith of higher rank sought me out for my talents, and thought that they could secure my services through death threats. This Sith underestimated me, thought that our difference in status made me harmless. Suffice it to say, I ate her and took her weapons. It’s not our place in the world that defines us, but how hard we’re willing to fight for a better position. I don’t want to have to bury either of you, so I’m going to teach you how to push yourselves outside of what you believe are your limits. Drago, this was Lady Keenava’s lightsaber, you will take it and join me in answering the Dark Lord’s summons. May you find your worth in the coming conflict. Zero Three, you will remain here as a symbol of good faith to the Mandalorians. I have arranged for you to study under some of their weapon masters, you will learn everything they have to teach you, and you will impress them with your discipline and drive. Here you will find your voice, and achieve respect in their eyes. These people are of good warrior stock, so build a life here, find a lover if it suits you, and begin to meld our ways with theirs. You’ve already started to speak with us, but on Mandalore you will truly find your voice. My gift to you is these knives, Sith crafted and able to extend on chains like a whip, and a Massassi Lanvarok which will find its way here shortly, a weapon of great history and significance in Sith culture.” Darth Nyrys knew that both apprentices would struggle with their assigned tasks, but that was the point. To make them flourish through conflict. Speaking of conflict, she had her own issue to resolve so that she could be focused on the battle. She needed to get past the guilt and do the right thing. Lissi was right where Nyrys expected to find her, in her personal quarters. Nyrys had caught her watching her sleep more times than she cared to count. There was an intensity in the girl’s eyes whenever she saw the Sith, but Nyrys doubted that she had always been that way. This was a monster of her own making. Lissi, unaware of Nyrys’ intentions, closed the distance to kiss her. Nyrys had been such a child when she twisted the poor girl’s mind. What had once felt like a moment of empowerment and growth now only served to make her think of a child’s finger painting gone horribly wrong. It was a bitter lesson that could only be learned through personal experience, absolute power and complete certainty were not immune to bad decision making. She had pfasked up majorly, and all of the fallout had landed on somebody that didn’t deserve it. Maybe this was why so many Sith were moral relativists or had wholly given themselves over to the Darkness, to hide from the consequences of their actions. Nyrys wasn’t going to hide from what she did, not anymore, but she wasn’t going to abandon her philosophy over a mistake. But what even was her philosophy anymore? In the beginning she had endeavored to only harm the wicked and the guilty, and for the most part was successful. But her power had a smaller footprint back then. Now she felt like a giant timidly trying to move without stepping on ants. A shark cannot survive in a fishbowl. And yet even her new powers were miniscule in impact compared to the larger conflict, which routinely toppled or destroyed the lives of billions. The Jedi claimed to be heroes, but they had abandoned whatever light there was to be found in the galaxy in favor of dogma and self righteousness. Maybe one day the illusion could be shattered and a new faith could restore the light to the galaxy instead of trying to claim they owned that light. Maybe that was her philosophy now, burn away the past mistakes that haunted so many to create a better galaxy. She wouldn’t just break her own chains, she would break the chains that bound the galaxy in its brutal cycle. She would start with burning away her own chains. She put her hands on Lissi’s neck… “You’ve always been better to me than I ever deserved. This isn’t about you doing something wrong or not doing something right, it’s just the only way I know how to get back to the person who deserves you, and whom you deserve. I don’t expect forgiveness from you, but I hope you find some measure of happiness in her arms.” She squeezed. It needed to be with her bare hands. It needed to be personal. The looks of shock and betrayal cut deeper than she expected, but she held the course. Even when the light left Lissi’s eyes, when her feeble attempts to struggle stopped and her body went limp, she held the course. She kissed Lissi’s forehead like a mother kissing a child goodnight, and then she drew the girl’s soul into her crimson heartstone. Moments later, Lissi’s remains were naught but ash and cinders. The ashen figure, unable to maintain its own integrity, collapsed and coated the room in grey. The color seemed appropriate, Nyrys had always been a liminal being. Neither completely human or alien, unwilling to see herself as completely good or evil, broken yet thriving. A vagabond of blurred identity in a galaxy often clearly defined in stark black and white. “Now your chains are broken too.” She left the room unburdened. ================================ A shuttle arrived for them, privately booked and with the captain fully expecting a mindwipe. Nyrys didn’t want her new ship getting marked as a Sith one this early on. She had started Drago on basic form training, he was already familiar enough with the aspects of sword fighting such as footwork and spacing, and the biggest obstacle was getting him adjusted to the weightlessness of the blade. She had him training against a remote currently, out of fear of straight up murdering him if she entered the training circle against him. Not because he was doing anything wrong, she was just struggling with the realities of having a healthy body for the first time in her life. Her emotions were tempestuous, everything hurt, and after one of the crew members had suggested sweets as a potential relief she ate so much that she got sick and spent an even more miserable period of time hunched over a refresher. The human digestive system was clearly designed by a drunken deity, a total jerk, or someone completely unable to commit to decisions. Possibly all three. When she had been mostly Cathar, it was simple and delicious. As a meatavore it was all meat all the time. Now it was meat and fruit and vegetables and dairy and grains, but not too much of any one thing or else it was misery and vomiting. Making up your pfasking mind, stomach. She had also lost a great deal of range in terms of her senses, but in that area the Force had stepped in to make up the difference, and then some. The way she experienced the world was different now. Emotions and experiences had color, texture, even taste. Some were saccharine or savory, others sour or bitter. Waiting in line tasted like unflavored oatmeal. Which was a thing that she now knew the taste of. The spectrum of how she fought and moved had widened too, although that was on account of her assassin training and not her new body, mostly. Her fitness regimen was much more balanced between strength and agility this time around, and her flexibility and coordination were things that actually existed now. She was experimenting with enhancing her mobility through the Force, and misdirecting opponents through illusionry. Every day she strengthened her bond with Gwn Marwolaeth through an intense training regimen. The sword had been a part of her since its creation, but now there was a familiarity to it that allowed her to wield it with ease. She embraced 03 before boarding the shuttle, he would have access to her ship which was practically a flying luxury house, and a credit account that she had set up for him, but money and nice things couldn’t solve everything. She worried, but she also knew that he was strong, within and without, and had survived many tribulations that had broken others. She handed him the lanvarok as a final gift before parting. “May you find the strength to break your chains.” With those words, they parted, and Darth Nyrys and Drago headed to rendezvous with the Sith fleet.
  15. Drago’s return heralded the continuation of Nyrys’s instruction in the beliefs and methods of the Sith for both of her apprentices. When separate, she could rely on both of them to pursue self improvement without any prodding from her. Both were loyal, and both were driven. “Students, it’s time you learned the code that provides the foundation of all Sith teachings and philosophy. I will speak it, and then go through it line by line to elucidate its meaning.” “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. The Force shall free me.” Even after all this time, saying the words was like conducting electricity through her entire body. The code wasn’t just a historical curiosity, or piece of dogma remembered through rote study. It was a philosophical map to a higher state of being. Instructions for achieving some measure of cosmic divinity for people who actually experienced the cosmos, rather than distant gods. “Many scholars have speculated that the first line was conceived to directly challenge the Jedi code, but I believe that the line has merit on its own. To live is to experience want, need, joy, loss, love, and pain. Peace is an illusion, a false opiate chased by fools who are too afraid to live a life of passion. We were made by the cosmos to be creatures of desire, to stand by the people that matter, to pfask the people that kindle our inner flame, to bring about the lamentations of those who wronged us. Love so hard you leave scars, and tear the stars out of the sky if they align against you. To do any less is to deny your truth. In the second line we learn the source of a Sith’s power, life itself. Not vital energy, although we can and do manipulate and consume that, but rather the experiences that define us, mark us by going through them, and the experiences we crave so deeply that we would break the natural order to pursue them. Seek out your passions, feed the fires that they stoke within, become a walking inferno of the realized self. There is no well of strength deeper or closer to you than your own heart. Strength is limited in application until it is refined into power. The strength of your desires is like a block of the finest marble, waiting to be sculpted by your hands into something magnificent. In heeding my training you will receive the tools necessary to craft marvels, altering both yourself and the world around you. Basic tools and skills will be progressively refined into advanced instruments and specialized masteries. But power alone will not satisfy you. The fourth line is often taken simply as a justification for the acquisition and use of power as a means to achieve victory, but I believe that there is more to it than that. Many Sith become so focused on hoarding power that they lose sight of what their actual goals are, consumed by the need for more power. But power without victory is a meaningless achievement that accomplishes nothing but turning the Sith into a numb and hollow husk. Power is a means, but never let it become the end. Our victories free us from living small and meager lives, opening our eyes to our true potential and revealing unconquered horizons of existence unbound by mortal concerns such as ethics or legality. What you are passionate about will almost certainly shift or evolve into something that your former self would find alien and incomprehensible, or at the very least quite impossible. Before I joined the ranks of the Sith, I was studying to become a university professor focusing on history, and I was a fragile little thing that hopelessly swooned over men who never saw value in me. Now I’m a warrior huntress who wields a sword quenched in her own heart's blood and parlays with world leaders. To be a Sith is to be free of all bonds and limitations, to make the world how you feel it should be, not some indifferent place of random and meaningless encounters. The Force is an unthinking and uncaring entity, a lobotomized god that has no goal or purpose other than what we give it. We are the ones that give existence meaning, the ones who value what life truly is, the ones who steal fire from the gods and use it to achieve the impossible.”
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