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Mavanger last won the day on November 9

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About Mavanger

  • Birthday 12/30/1999

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  1. Darth Mavanger watched from seclusion with interest. His cloak his his telltale armor, and while he doubted his presence in the force went unnoticed, her rested easy knowing that any who noticed him would likely let him bide his time. He knew the Sith needed strong leadership, and this new contender seemed to offer it. He would lead them himself in due time, but he had no place in aiding their efforts to rebuild, at least not yet. But there had been discontent even with Darth Nyrys, a renowned master of the Dark Side with a storied history of victory- there was no telling how the Sith would accept this stranger. She had power, but no standing ,and none loyal to her cause to protect her claim. While he believed her worthy, at least for now, the Sith needed stability to rebuild. Should she fail to grant that, he would step forward and claim the title for himself. But should she defeat her challengers, claim the throne free of any real dissent, then he would return to the shadows, watching, waiting for the day that he would lead the Sith from hiding into a glorious new conquest.
  2. Mavanger


    Darth Mavanger nodded. He'd heard enough- While Akheron clearly believed in his god, his declaration was a good start. "The road ahead is long, Lord Akheron, and you will have many trials ahead of you. The galaxy has fallen into the hands of the rebels, and the power that is rightfully ours has been stolen from our very grasp. The Jedi and Imperial Knights, despite their losses, walk openly in the galaxy once more. The Dark Lady has plans for a shadow war, anonymous terrorism and assassination. This is not a fight for me- the time is for those amongst our order who did not have a chance to show their worth under Darth Exodus to do so now. And to do this, you will have the backing of the Sith Empire as a Sith Master. By taking the first steps to casting off your chains, you have passed your trial. Masterhood is yours- use it well, or die trying."
  3. Mavanger


    "You know the code, but you do not understand it." Darth Mavanger turned to look at the Sith Lord before him. "There are those among the Sith who believe you to be ready for the title of Master. I am to be the judge of that. While none question your ability to fight, I question your loyalty. Your beliefs. Your dogmatic fanaticism to the cult that you've fallen in with raises concern. In the Sith code, we speak of chains to be broken. Not just physical chains, but mental chains. To be a master of the Sith, you must be above the chains of the lesser man. How can you claim you have broken free of yours if your every move, your every victory, is snatched away from you by some false god taught to you by a wayward cultist? There is a reason those that blindly follow gods do not rise above fodder." He set his glass down, his eyes finally meeting Akheron's in judgement. "What separates us is that you are a cultist blindly following a deity that if it exists, does not care for you or your struggles, seeking to be deemed worthy. I am a Master of the Sith Order, and I am the one who passes judgement, the one who people blindly follow. Lord Akheron, the true question to be asked of you here, is whether or not you are too blinded by faith to cast off your chains and rise above the fodder to show the galaxy why it should be you, not some dark god, who passes judgement on the worthy and unworthy alike?"
  4. Mavanger


    As Akheron spoke, Darth Mavanger shook his head. More talk of the Fanged God, of a fate that wasn't his to control. The man had been so neutered by his faith in this... cult, that he had forgotten what he was. It would be Mordecai's duty to rectify this mistake. While Nyrys's new shadow empire would sow discord and discontent within the new galactic government, he would remove any vestige of weakness and misguided faith from it. While he disagreed with the Dark Lady's methods, the deed was done, and the only chance to succeed would be to ensure that the Sith were at their very best when they were ready to return. "I don't recall asking for privacy, only for you to close the ramp behind you. Had I wished to remain anonymous, however, such a guard being placed outside defeats such a purpose. In truth, their presence matters not. What leaves this room after this conversation is for you to decide." He pulled himself to his feet, moving to the Ysalimiri enclosure that had protected them on their way into the Helvault. The beasts had been disposed of shorty after their retreat, and now the terrarium lie empty, still as the day it was created. No evidence that life had ever congregated within. "Are you able to recite the Sith code, Lord Akheron? Did your master ever teach you its proverbs? Help you understand it's meaning?"
  5. Mavanger


    Darth Mavanger watched in amusement as Lord Akheron swept for bugs and placed a rather overkill number of guards outside of the ship. As he finally returned, sitting before the Sith Warmaster, Mavanger took a drink from a cupboard. The ship was not only a stealth transport, but as it had been furnished for Sith operatives and members of Sith Intelligence, it had a healthy amount of luxurious hardware. He poured himself a glass- A bothan wine, from a manufacturer he didn't know. No matter, it was a formality more than anything. He poured a second glass, placing it upon the table before him. "Help yourself if you wish, Lord Akheron." He took a drink, watching the man's actions carefully. "Tell me, what do you believe the cause of this meeting to be if you have placed so many guards and performed such a diligent sweep for bugs? Do you not trust your own crew? The fellow Sith who just aided you in a mission most dangerous?" At a glance, he was at ease, more interested in the drink before him that the Sith that now sat opposite. But this, hopefully unbeknownst to the veteran Lord, was a test. A measurement of his character. A chance to see if his hunch was correct. His answers here would laregly steer the conversation, for better or worse. He would either be found a worthy ally, or a hapless pawn.
  6. Mavanger


    There was one last thing he had to do. As the other Sith filed out of the shuttle into the Sith vessel, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. Inmortos had gone down with the station, an unfortunate loss. But he doubted the master Necromancer would die so easily. No, he'd be back. Death had as little grip on the Krath as it did on himself. A monkey paw's curse. Immortality, but a life of pain and loss and grief. All that was left, the only reprieve he could find, was vengeance. Cassandra's death, Raven's. Every rebel he'd killed, every monarch he'd toppled, none of them were an equivalent exchange for the single one he's lost. And yet, it was all that came close. He forced himself to his feet, the weight of his armor holding him back. It was more than physical nowadays- it was an emotional leash, a psychological weight put in place by time after time of being handicapped at his moments of triumph. But this time- It would be his last, whether he won or lost. Even if death still refused to claim him, he would be done. Of that he was sure. He pulled out his comm device, keying it to call the last piece. "Lord Akheron, return to the shuttle immediately. Seal the entrance behind you. We have much to discuss."
  7. Darth Mavanger didn't know what Inmortos had in mind, but his own objective had been accomplished. The Helvault had been breached, and Apothos had been retrieved. Anything past that was secondary to getting those who had accompanied him off the station. He pushed through, just behind the wake of the remaining Sith forces as they filed towards the hangar. Upon their arrival, he swiftly boarded, firing up the engines of the craft. "Brace yourselves." As the Helvault plummeted towards the planet, a glowing meteor hurtling towards it's inevitable demise, the shuttle rocketed out. To the naked eye, it seems no more than a piece broken loose by the forces of re-entry. Yet another pillar of the false peace of the Rebels and their government- More willing to consign the souls aboard to death than to give them a chance at freedom. The shuttle rattled violently as they escaped the vortex left behind by what was now a glorified fireball. He stood, removing his mask and moving to the passenger section of the craft. Their allies would be here soon, and there was much to be discussed. He nodded his head at the new arrivals, his eyes decades older than they had been months past. "Krath Apothos. Did you think I would let an ally rot in a cell? It seems you made an ally of your own while inside." he said, motioning to the unknown party with a gauntleted hand. "We lost much at Mon Cal, and at Nar Shaddaa. Now, we rebuild."
  8. Darth Mavanger snarled as they entered and he heard the other Siths' words. As they spoke, the station was in freefall, flooding with dangerous droids, hostile prisoners, and force-bound horrors, and yet they stood around posturing as though for court. He glanced back towards where they came from- it seemed to still be open, albeit a path of much resistance. "You all speak to much. First we escape, then we can introduce ourselves. If you are Sith, follow us. If you are not, find your own way off this hulk. We have no interest pursuing you." He glanced at Apothos- Another lost to the battle of Mon Cal. Pain flashed in his chest- It was a battle that had claimed too many able warriors. At least Apothos could be recovered and rescued. The self proclaimed Darth Dictum, claiming title and position within the Sith Empire, although he was a stranger to the order. The veteran Lord Akheron, a warrior who's combat ability he'd been made aware of long before Nar Shaddaa. With these collected Sith, not only would the Empire survive, but he would with luck retain loyal allies within while he undertook his self-imposed exile. His glance drifted to Inmortos, nodding. "We have what we needed. We should return to the ship."
  9. Progress was easy, even without the use of the Force. At least, at first. Turrets with pre-programed targeting algorithms were easy to fool, and as long as they killed them faster than the station's systems could adapt, they would stay ahead of the curve. That was, until the programming realized that turrets alone couldn't stop them. A squad of Droids pressed towards them from a separate hall, and Mordecai snarled under his mask. He'd hoped to find a straggler, to give them time to find the registry. Instead, he'd gotten an entire security detachment. He ran forwards, his blades cleaving through droids like they were made of paper, stun batons bouncing off of his Sithsteel armor, blaster bolts trying desperately to keep up with his sporadic movements. The only thing that slowed him was the return of the Force. All at once, it hit him. Death. Anguish. Grief. Betrayal. Thousands of spirits, finally free from their eternal prison, finally able to find a vessel for their wrath. Even he could feel it, despite his unfamiliarity with the Necromancers' skills. But the feelings they forced on him, they were more familiar than most counted on. He didn't resist- He knew the burning rage in the souls of the departed. Left here, forgotten, nothing but death as their destinies were robbed of them. He let the fire rekindle in his chest, he channeled the emotions of the spirits around him. As the necromancer behind him screamed, and the droids in front of him fired another volley of shots, he felt them impact. Most were absorbed by the armor, but a few hit the less protected joints at his shoulders and elbows. He hissed, sneering. The ghosts around him cried for revenge. They tried to take control, to force their will upon him. They had no true hold over his psyche, however. Death had tried once before to claim him, and it had failed. The Force had dragged him back to this accursed war, to fulfill his purpose of establishing an unquestioned peace across the galaxy. He darted forward, the power of his rage fueling him once more as he sliced through the remaining droids with ease with the help of the Necromancer. He turned, nodding respectfully. The other Sith's power had grown since they last met- A harbinger of things to come, it seemed. He turned in time to see Solus peel around the corner, followed by a beast he'd never witnessed before. It was horrific, a snarling mass of rage and decay that seemed to destroy anything in its path. But Darth Mavanger recognized it for what it truly was. A puppet of the Dark Side, the amalgamation of the horrors of this station. Loss, pain, regret, and obscurity. And beneath it all, a desire. A hunger. But not a hunger for life. He knew this desire well. It desired death. It's own, or anything that got in its way. He would grant this kindred spirit its wish. That, or it would grant him his. His momentum carried him towards the beast, his oil-slicked blades cutting through grasping appendages and roiling flesh alike. The incarnations of his fury and grief, his greatest weapons, not just blades in his hands, but extensions of his body and of his will. The beast landed blow after blow against Darth Mavanger, but he pressed further in. "Let me grant you peace" he whispered in the chaos. The beast's death, or his. That was the only option.
  10. Mordecai's eyes snapped open as he drifted into the air and the Force rippled around him, even if for just a moment, sparking the quiet rage he felt deep within his chest. His respite, it seemed, was over. There was pain, but pain was not his enemy. He grabbed the bulkhead, pulling himself to the wall as he glanced at Inmortos. The Whiphid smashed into the cell once more, and he looked out. A shame- He had hoped that the local populace would relish their freedom, but it seemed this one wanted them dead. It mattered not. "Follow us, and you will be slain where you stand." He glanced at Inmortos, motioning him to follow as he began to move deeper into the station, pulling himself along the wall. He could hear the blaster fire throughout the station- It seemed that his compatriots had trigger the alarm. They would have to move fast if they wanted to find Apothos and escape in time. "We have much work to do, and I doubt our whiphid friend here is the only one who will try to kill us on sight. We must find a droid- more than likely, they will have a registry of prisoners for us to use."
  11. Darth Mavanger watched from the cockpit as his fellow Sith left, with Akheron and Inmortos charging headfirst into the frey. He closed his eyes, trying one more time to feel the Force. This was a place designed to hold and kill people like them- Those who's power relied on the Force and its machinations. They would get themselves killed like this. His armor rested heavily on him, moreso than usual. He would be slower, less coordinated, but even still he was confident that he was one of, if not the most dangerous lifeforms on the entire station. He rose, walking towards the still-cloaked exit ramp. He took one last deep breath before darting out of the craft. The force of his impact on the hangar deck still rattled the floor plates, and as he sprinted towards the prone form of Inmortos, his mind cleared. It was no longer clouded by the hate and anger that the Dark Side fed on, though the emotions were still there. His fury was not so easily calmed, but for now, it would take a backseat to the mission. Inmortos's plan had worked, and the blast doors had been torn apart by the station's turrets, with naught but twisted metal and burning slag remaining. He could see the turret reacquiring it's target, and he pushed himself harder. He reached down, grabbing the old necromancer by his clothing as the turret whirred to life again, firing a slew of deadly bolts behind them. The station's AI had adapted, and the bolts were no longer strong enough to tear open durasteel, but they impacted his armor as he crossed the threshold, launching him forward as he dropped the Necromancer into cover, his cloak smoking from the impact as he lay motionless for a moment, merely grunting at Inmortos to signal his survival. The bolts hadn't pierced his armor, but they had rattled his body from the impact.
  12. Mordecai boarded behind the rest, his voice silent as he took the helm. Wordlessly, he shut the boarding ramp and engaged the ship's cloak. In mere moments, the ship had disappeared from sight, and Mordecai engaged the engines. All that was left was to get in position and wait for the hangar shields to drop. As the ship lifted and began it's approach to the prison in the stars, he felt his stomach drop, and felt something leave him, as though he'd lost an organ without realizing it. The Force had left him- it was an alien feeling. He felt the true weight of his equipment, his strength no longer aided by the Dark Side. He was still strogn ,still powerful, still a warrior, but without the force he was as capable as any other. It reminded him of his days on Korriban, his connection to the Force a small strand of wool compared to what it was now. He hadn't known then what he was missing. There was something else though- It was like a bag had been taken off his head, as though he was coming to from a drunken stupor. A dark pressure that had loomed over him for years seemed lighter, less pervasive. His grief seemed to abate, even if momentarily, and his rage left him nearly entirely. It was a shock to his system- Was this some secondary effect of the Ysalimari? Was it an effect that was used to placate the prisoners and make them less violent? Only time would tell. The ship drifted into the void, approaching the prison with little trouble. He shut off the engines and leaned back, keying his communicator. "We've arrived. Once the shields are down, we'll infiltrate. Make yourselves comfortable- there's a chance we will be here for some time"
  13. "Krath Apothos is a Sith Lord that pledged himself to my campaign. I am not one to leave an ally to rot in a cell for my ambitions. Indeed, were it not for Darth Nyrys and he plans set in motion, I would have led this rescue months ago." He motioned towards the clearing, pressing a button and revealing a shuttle taken from the drydock of the Kuat Drive Yards months ago in nearly forgotten preparation for this very mission. Outfitted with a state of the art cloaking system and with enough room to fit several squads of Sith troopers, although it was empty now, it was the key to the locked vault. Sensors were useless against it, the active cloaking protected it from visual identification, and the Ysalimari aboard the vessel would stop anyone from sensing their presence in the Force. The only remaining hurdle was to find a way to open the hangar shields- He imagined that there would be a transport here eventually, and then they would simply slip in behind. "This is our way in. Once inside, we simply find our opening and take it."
  14. Darth Mavanger regarded the other Sith from behind his mask, his own emotions not outwardly displayed. When he had last seen Inmortos, it had been in the throne room of Naboo, after he had convinced his ally to return to the council. He thought back to that day- The Dark Lady had given him a title and a mission, and he had set aside his complaints to see it through. At he known the extent of what she had planned, he would have protested more strongly. He nodded curtly as both Akheron and Inmortos greeted him- He had few words for pleasantries now. All that mattered was the future. The next fight. The next Empire. As Solus spoke however, his hands went to his blades, and he hissed through his teeth. "If you wish for that crystal to stay in one piece you won't try mentioning that mission to me or any others again. Her fate must be lost to history so that she will never be revived." He looked up- He thought he could see it. The Helvault. Where the Rebels had kept their most dangerous prisoners. All in one place, waiting, biding its time for one prison break to set them all free again. This would do more to destabilize the new Alliance than a dozen battles over supply lines. "It is not only Krath Apothos that is held in the Helvault. He is, however, our primary objective. You'd do well in the future to not cast aside former allies so easily. Do it too often and you will be left with none."
  15. What a fucking duel. Just to give you guys an idea, This duel took 3 mods nearly an hour to decide who won because you both did so well and performed so close to each other. You both had good, bad, and fantastic, And even the bad was completely in character and narratively excellent. The idea of two of the greatest Mandalorians alive spiralling through the air in a brutal deathmatch was well portrayed here, from Terra's paranoia and sense of betrayal to Tros's desire to take disarm her and take her alive. If they ever duel again I'll be reading every post. Now, onto the meat of the duel: First and foremost, Terra's final post. In her attack, she grabs Tros's grappling hook and uses it to pull herself towards him to stab him in the collar. It's an excellent move, but grabbing your opponent's weapon and manipulating it for your attack is a very grey area. It works here since the nature of a grapple attack like this is to tether the two fighters, and in doing this Terra isn't undoing Tros's attack or taking actions beyond using it for it's intended purpose- to close the gap. I would not recommend trying this often due to the innate grey area of manipulating an opponent's weapon to your advantage in a closed way like this. Tros, your first post was a bit of a whiff. You made one attack against a target that you were informed was not a part of the duel. While thematic in the situation, and definitely in character, not making an attack in your first post is definitely not the greatest move for a duel post. In the future, I would treat things like this as part of the setup and make your attacks separate for the round. The barest edge was decided in the final post. While Terra is at a disadvantage, being without a jump pack or electronics to alter her course, Tros seems intent to engage her on this front with the intent of using his own blade. The deciding factor was that Terra was approaching rapidly with a long-reaching spear, and Tros hadn't even drawn his blade yet. You both did phenomenally and should both be proud, but Terra is the victor, and has next post.
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