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  1. Few were aware of how the biting cold slowly transitioned into a crude warmth from the spilling death and the gathering of masses, a peculiarity that the assassin could sense. These arctic waters now ran septic with blood and blackest ink, defiling the very nature of this abandoned laboratory. The armor of the Dark King was not exempt from this; boiling drool beaded the canine lockjaw of his mask, running slick down his wyrmsteel-covered neckline and forearms, igniting the spider insignia carved into his chest-plate with an enriched oily tincture. Exodus heaved his respires purposefully, dialing down the revelry of his recent rampage, expertly controlling his breathing as the enemy seemed to recede and withdraw into the void. His endurance was beyond comprehension so accordingly, the phenomenal stir of force inside of him quickly calmed to a quiet. “At last you have come, heralded by my call. So quickly do slaves forget their place, existing but to do the will of their masters. When the master is away, those foolish servants think they are free. Freedom is an illusion. For on the day of the master’s return, will they be punished tenfold for their sins. Twenty for they that sought to lock the master from that which was his own.” ”Come to me my children! Come!” ".. This creature proclaims master-hood, but then is it confined by the conviction of the apprentice?" For every word that the creature spoke, it became infinitely more predictable in it's nature. There was a grating animosity within the undertones of the supposed cephalopod, a vengeance that stimulated the aggression that the brute organism utilized. Brooding over the particulars lasted little time, as a coughing belch blew a strange wind of rot down the gouge. Exodus slipped his weight low and shrunk into the washbasin of water and muck below. Something was awry, more than what was obvious. Beneath the surface, the assassin used his protracted jurisdiction of the force to map out the rest of this fever ward. Tracing the life forces of the involved congregation, Exodus began to summon an eldritch fount of power only known to the ancestors of the Sith.
  2. Their screams, powerfully acute with fear Was it the enthusiasm of an impending dread, Or the horrifying nature of their devouring, the way their armor caved beneath the crunch of crooked teeth? It was as if anarchy reached out with ghastly arms, grinning widely from the black veil. The creature thrashed in violence, and everywhere at once, aggressively unfocused to the numbers that contested it. Numbered forces mattered little when a sudden lack of structure paralyzed them where they stood. Lines of communication rotted in disorderly fashion as horror poured through transmission links, a crunching and screaming that was deafening to the audience. This was still war. "Execution above all else. Pull your pins, and quit your squealing. Die with dignity." His voice was impartial yet commanding over the comm-link, but the modulator inside of his fanged battle-mask amplified his every word, demanding that the eldritch sound of the Spider controlled the radio-waves with a true challenge. Exodus levied a defiance against the rules of physics as he carved with incredible speed, through the feelers of the beast. Thigh-high oceanic submergence did little to stop the master of movement from leaping into action, slashing loose whoever he could in order to reinforce the ranks. Scissoring through low-visibility atmosphere like a maddened butterfly, a powerful blade of furious-red continued to loosen Darkhand from the jaws of death. It was the Way of the Hawk-Bat that found purchase while full-figured spears of flesh aimed themselves towards the Dark King in retaliation. This reprieve would lessen the burden on those that shared the battlefield, and soon explosions from inside the belly of the beast would leave a reckoning if discipline favored the Captain's Company. But, this could not last forever. "Formations on my position." These words, he spoke aloud. The Inquisition was correct about the Neimoidian, and he had survived after all. Delta too, was invaluable to the machine, and now he sourly scavenged for his unit. These two represented note-worthy promise within the structure of the Sith Empire, with no better time than now to shine against the creatures of the deep. In conjunction with the other two unfamiliar elements, the opportunity to uncover the secrets of this lair, was ripe before their very eyes. The challenge of the hunt was here at last.
  3. CAIA (Covert Agency of Internal Affairs) (Credit: Darth Nyrys) CAIA is a department of the Sith Empire that oversees propaganda, political education, internal espionage, and covert interior political operations within the borders of the Sith Empire. The majority of CAIA field agents bear the title of Peacekeeper, effectively acting as authoritarian police officers under the auspices of the Pyramid of Laws and Justice (PLJ). While in uniform, Peacekeepers (PKs) wear white masks of faces with neutral expressions and built in vocal modifiers, symbolic of the PKs as agents of a system that cannot be swayed by emotion or mercy. The average citizen is not aware of the existence of CAIA as an umbrella organization that covers all of these aspects of society. In fact, most citizens do not know that the Sith holo-networks are in fact state controlled entities, or that the pyramid of laws and justice (PLJ) influences so many day to day elements of their lives. The majority of CAIA recruits come from what the PLJ refers to as first tier loyalty planets, and no recruit is ever deployed to their own home planet. There were discussions of reviving the Genesis Project to create an entirely clone populated PK force, but the majority of the original templates were lost in the massacre of Kamino, and attempts to recreate them have been lacking. The PLJ is instead now investigating a suite of reprogramming machines and techniques code-named Project Eclipse. Testing has shown potential in seeding recruits with alternate backgrounds and inducing a transition event over a period of months to replace the original identity. If successful, recruitment will increase exponentially through conscription efforts. While the project Genesis templates for police recruits were lost, one set of the preserved templates that CAIA uses extensively is for educators. Rebel recruiters are known to target citizens in this age bracket as they are particularly vulnerable to propaganda involving opposing authority at this stage in their lives. A significant number of schools have CAIA operatives posing as teachers and counselors to root out and eliminate rebel influences and the threat of dangerous ideologies. CAIA operatives will also groom certain students for recruitment by government, military, and research organizations. CAIA controlled media outlets are carefully managed to effectively reach multiple bands of media consumers, with “divergent” media using planned loss strategies to increase credibility on critical information campaigns while sacrificing more obvious propaganda attempts. As such, CAIA has control over a vast range of media outlets ranging from state controlled, “independent”, to even some guerrilla media streams. Sith fixers will often travel with reporters to “prep” interviewees with mental manipulation. While reporters covering state affairs are less investigators and more attractive government mouthpieces, journalists deployed to cover rebel and Jedi incidents are so similar in methods and means to espionage agents that they practically taste like almonds. Given that the enemies of the state have a tendency to brand themselves as moralists, exploiting the resultant tragedy and grief of rebel and Jedi military operations gone awry is a key component in the state’s media strategy. Scandal and stories that highlight deep failings of character are also highly sought after. In fact, many of these journalists are either former Sith spies or training to become Inquisitors. While some citizens might have concerns about imperial agents listening in on private communications, first of all, only guilty people should be bothered by that, and second, there’s far too much information being transmitted for agents to analyze everything, that’s why CAIA uses repurposed AVATAR AIs to review all communications and data feeds. CAIA agents only review post processing data relevant to treasonous activity, so that makes it totally ethical. Units of PKs are overseen by Scrutators, veteran PKs who have the authority to determine just cause for search, seizure, detainment, and execution without a warrant. A citizen’s loyalty rating can heavily influence how much leeway a Scrutator has for non treason allegations, but in matters of loyalty, the scrutator has carte blanche to use any means necessary. In accordance with the Citizen Safety Act a Scrutator can act against a citizen that they feel is endangering or infringing upon the rights of other citizens regardless of whether or not there is a law in place against the given activity or behavior. Scrutators report to High Scrutators, who in turn advise but don’t answer to District Overseers. Inquisitors function largely outside of the chain of command, but are able to take control of and utilize CAIA assets as they see fit, along with their own department resources. There are four departments within the Inquisitorium, Civil, Laws, Purity, and Authority. The Civil Department (CD) is the largest by necessity and oversees areas like the loyalty rating system and adherence to it, quality of goods and resources, immigration, disease control, and other basic needs of the state. Initially, communication and reporting were handled by call centers, but after polling revealed overwhelming dissatisfaction with operator performance, the call was made to switch to virtual operators simulated by an AVATAR. Satisfaction levels have improved dramatically since the change, with plaintiffs largely unaware that they are talking to a computer program. The Department of Laws (DoL) is a state run think tank for the research and development of the legal codes that provide order to the Sith Empire. New laws, suggested sentencing, changes to existing laws, all of these and more are the responsibilities of the Department of Laws. Assignment to the DoL is largely a desk job focused on theory and academia, but occasionally DoL inquisitors are attached to inquisitors from other departments to act as observers. Observation duty is sometimes requested as a precedent to transfer, but it’s largely seen as a form of punishment. When other departments assign inquisitors to observe a DoL inquisitor, it most definitely is always a form of punishment. The Department of Purity (DoP) is tasked with rooting out treasonous behavior and thoughts, along with investigating its governmental peers. Only the Sith themselves have any measure of protection from these inquisitors, although apprentices are not yet above the scrutiny of department. The Department of Purity has few allies, but they prefer it that way. Trust is a weakness that they will not abide. The Department of Authority (DoA) inquisitors are sometimes referred to as the rockstars and divas of CAIA, although never to their faces. These inquisitors handle the high profile cases that have the potential to threaten the perception of control and order provided by the state. Crime lords, serial killers, assassins that have killed political figures, these are the sorts of criminals that get the attention of the Department of Authority. DoA inquisitors often utilize military grade assets to eliminate or detain their targets, along with selective use of bounty hunters and other outside talent. While nothing has been substantiated, there are whispers of a covert operations group within CAIA that has the Dark Lord’s blessing to operate completely off the books and outside of the bounds of legality. While all good citizens know that there is no need for such a fanciful concepts as secret vigilante kill squads because Imperial Law is absolute, rumors of these “Righteous Devils” continue to persist.
  4. The screeching whine of over-strained pipelines and the moan of cracked bedrock, would soon convene into an untenable disaster. Strands of the force reached out to warn of this, catching as they fell before the eyes of the legendary assassin. As still as stone he stood, eavesdropping on the cavernous world around him. Darkhand ammunitions cut into the creatures that fell from the falling stream, tearing their flesh from soft bones and spreading lifeblood into the rising waters. Their squealing corpses heaped over one another in awkward mass, dripping large amounts of sickly pigment into the canal. Mounting death served as little more than a sacramental power source, the Dark King smiled as he noticed that this was a bait-trap for what hid below. The channel filled dangerously, but Exodus just watched, cognitively existing in a place that the ordinary would never know. His mind blossomed like an unbridled nexus, quickly understanding the extrapolation of the fools that surrounded him; they would die without him lifting a single blade. And they did, one after the other. Above the passages was no different, Exodus and his forces brutalized all who opposed, crushing their spirits long before their bones. It would seem that none had ever pushed this weapon to the brink, would it be so different deep down below? “We will soon see.” The chain-reaction erupted all at once, and the infrastructure caved under the pressure at last. There was a rippling realization between each individual when the echoes of collapse roared through the tunnel systems, whole foundations snapping like twigs. Then the invincible tide came. The sheer force of it was tremendous, a buckling flood raging towards the channel-dwellers without the slightest hesitation. The natural world was furious, coming to claim what was rightfully theirs. The Dark King turned to finally face the gargantuan rush, in a way, still unimpressed. Like dominos, the others were viciously swept from their feet, some as soon-to-be corpses that flung passed where he stood. Exodus raised both arms in a brace, spreading his fingers apart at the hands as if to catch the hastening torrent head-on. Just half-a-meter out, the flood tide split down the seams, stemming wide around the body of the Dark King. The divergence was too close, but it kept. Splashing ocean spouted against his black monolithic armor plates, running wild down its brutish carvings. The Anzat was barbaric in his power, monstrous in his hulking calm. The others washed passed him, colliding hard into the cave-in, breaking the staunch column completely free. Trembling power gushed from his body, wrestling with the herculean tension of multiplying motion. He cut an eye to his destination, knowing his challenge lay just ahead, and then he pushed. There was unparalleled artistry in his movement, such a natural fluency that allowed him to inherit the complete rush of the tide and spearhead himself into the falling geyser. The King of the Sith broke from the spring as hard as a buckshot, skidding across the laboratory lower than a Trithan prowler, unleashing his hoarse-red lightsaber in a wicked guard.
  5. BARK'A RADIR BE KAD HA'RANGIR ASH LEGIONS OF KAD HA'RANGIR Chaab va kyr'am par pur be gar bu'nas'r cuyir o'aryihida bal naasad kapr eyaytir bic. Fear not death for the hour of your doom is set and none may escape it. Classifications NPC Sub-Group of the Sith Empire Criminal Commander Arkab Skon (Deceased), TBD Members TBD Headquarters TBD Locations Coruscant The Bark'a Radir (Mando'a; lit. meaning "Ash Legions"), is a criminal pseudo-Mandalorian organization (formally known as the Glorybound), founded by Arkab Skon and comprised of extradited Mandalorian warriors, known to their kinsmen as Dar'manda, which was a term that effectively referred to such individuals as "soulless Mandalorians". Founded during the anarchic Crusader Rebellion against the Galactic Alliance during its calculated dissension by the Sith Empire, the then Glorybound drew fanatical alongside the Mandalorian Crusader war cult, engorging themselves on the the worship and spear-point of Kad Ha'rangir above all other Mandalorian divinities. The candlestick flame of the Mandalorian Crusaders spread their forces too thin, waning just as quickly as they had sparked, as if a sudden wind had caught them unawares. The Glorybound amputated themselves from the ruined Crusaders with renewed autonomy, scattering themselves throughout the jewel of the galaxy instead, and by way of open insurrection. They ran rampant throughout Coruscanti space during the uprising, mounting an unbridled chaos, underhandedly fueled by the power of the dark side and their Leader Skon. They asserted themselves as cut-price mercenaries and ambushed the innocent with incessant marauding, prioritizing indiscriminate and lewd displays of slaughter, electing for disorderly fire-fights in order to best spread their violence. BRIEFINGS "The Sith Empire has arrived in tremendous force, their numbers are many, and the disposition of their aggression is unmanageable. We are unprepared for this, and the Crusaders have spared no support. We burned far too high, and faster than we could have ever imagined. Was this the plan of the Sith? To strike from our blind-spot as we over-indulged on the defenseless like jackals? Like fools we came to feed on the scraps, but the wolves were watching all along. We will not hold out." Emperor-King Exodus and his hordes fell from the skies and swept across the dying jewel, decimating anything that stood in their way. They subjugated major tactical choke-points, deployed in-mass, and conquered the leader of the Glory Bound in open combat. With the fall of Arkab Skon, the Glory Bound became the Bark'a Radir, the Ash Legions of the Sith Empire. ASSETS COMPOSITION
  6. Exodus considered the arctic seawater that now washed upon his taut-leather greaves of black metal, the falling and spilling over unsettled rock, and the thundering crashes of movement above were the signs that these tunnels would soon drown whole. Darkhand Troopers withdrew from their position as the cold irrigation quickly sharpened senses, swallowing the strange milieu of gases that once stifled their air. Some nodded as they passed by, shockingly aware that the explosion was moments from eating into their flesh and bone. Those remaining moulded themselves into a rear-guard as they backpedaled, keeping a decelerated pace to those that lead the charge opposite of where they now stood. Even if the majority knew nothing of this, the Dark Lord stood with them now. His eyes fixated on the collapsed infrastructure, almost as if he was seeing beyond the gathering of stone, watching what the rest could not. "Captain. They have spit on your mercy.. When will you show them your rage?" The voice rumbled with sinister familiarity, dark and convincing, Spoken with a low voice inside the head-space of Delta-73. With arms behind his back, casually poised, the assassin understood how such things would play out. Followers of the Jedi doctrine were marvels of lunacy, they were unsettling creatures of predictable habit. They were abandoning one another, unclear whether they should lash out or surrender in the name of their vaunted peace. The oppression of the Dark Side fell hard as if the sun had suddenly rotted to a crisp, eating away at hope as they watched their world darken. The Blood Prince had shown himself in force, but with merciful hands. A knight of Fear had manifested from the shadows, and the calling of the creature that cried out from the depths of this forgotten place was enough for those of the Light to scatter like flies. If the Captain did not know before, the singularity of his ancient voice was enough to marry the idea that the King of the Sith had come. The six-heeled arachnid crest that overlaid his wyrmsteel breastplate seemed to flare alluringly in that moment, as glow-rods wormed their way passed the colossal man. Then, the Darkhand clutched their weapons and emptied a ruthless barrage into the beasts that squirmed through the rockfall, igniting the tunnel with thrilling flashes of illumination. Exodus reached for his weapon slowly, drawing for metal with a scratching patience, knowing that these aquatic creatures were distractions. A true monster drew near.
  7. "There is an innocence in the Dark Side of the Force; it is found in those to whom it has never yet occurred that they, one day, might become utterly consumed by it." - Dark Lord Exodus, Iv Tave Rozete XI, Chapter III Welcome to the Sith Empire. INTRODUCTION. ------------------ For the last decade within the dominion of uncharted space, Lord Exodus traversed and tantalized those that wandered those same wild realms, to a cause unknown by the sickly brotherhood. The culmination of his conquest led him to his habitation on the dark world of Umbara, wherewith the eccentric nature of the native people, he would spend years forging and fostering the capital into an extraordinary civilization that revered the dark arts he commanded as well as the unique acumen of his mind and spirit. He would subjugate the powerfully advanced society of Umbara and lay himself to rest beneath the earth until the stars aligned for his return. Upon his reawakening, the Spider would piously defy the ruination of the Sith Brotherhood at the hands of their former allies, as well as their mortal enemies, and stave off the blasphemous alliance the two had created. Heedlessly acting, Lord Exodus would raise an Empire of his own and blanket the stars with one of the darkest presences the galaxy would ever taste. Rising above the Imperial Remnant, and ravaging the supreme reign of the Galactic Alliance, the Sith Empire would shake the cosmos to the core and claim rule. Growing indiscriminately, and with the iron resilience of the Sith Empire at shore, the face of Imperial Rule would soon return. THE SITH. ------------------ "The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural." - Sheeve Palpatine. The Dark Side of the Force is driven by unbridled passion and emotion, expounding itself when the wielder of it pushes to reach self-interested aspirations. More often than not, it comes from a yearning to do what one believes is morally good, to save someone’s life, or to destroy a source of what the individual may believe is evil. But when you lose yourself to those emotions and desires, whether willing or unwilling, that is the road most traveled for those that dwell within the dark. Channeling the omniscience of the Dark Side however, obediently or masterfully, does not qualify one as representation of the Sith Empire. Abstaining from the ways of old, when senseless in-fighting and aimless savagery welcomed the complete degradation of the Sith Brotherhood and the Sith Order, is how the wisest found compromise. The ailing brotherhood of the Sith carved out a niche within the body of the Empire as the spiritual fist, with their dwindling numbers finding renewed purpose under Lord Exodus. The brotherhood became a tributary to the entirety of the Sith Empire, and was re-engineered to uphold the core tenets of the Sith Philosophy, all while serving a new decree, that the Sith would co-actively labor towards a unified goal. Therefore, the blind and ignorant consumption of the Dark Side, transformed into a more dutiful transaction filled with purpose. The Sith would adhere to their own code zealously, and infectiously spread the word to imperial societies to achieve the adopted objective of galactic rule. 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 The Sith code is centered around personal improvement and achievement, which consequently, loaned itself to the comprehensive growth and expansion of the Sith Empire . It was about first looking inward, taking your wants and desires, and flourishing with favorable outcomes which would bleed into the success of the Empire. It was taking the emotions, thoughts, and conflicts, and channeling them towards those goals and desires. This philosophy and ideology, was never touted as inherently evil, unless taken to its most extreme, and inevitable conclusion. That conclusion being that once you have achieved your goal, and possess all that you desire, ungoverned greed would come and take the place. Should you descend deeper within that rabbit-hole, the ordinance of the Sith-Imperial Empire would be swift and exacting. These are the realities of those that enter the Sith Empire. Transcending the weakened flesh of your bodies, and becoming invariably more powerful, always breaking the chains that keep you from achieving your goals, and gaining victory even through failure. JOIN US. OOC INFORMATION. ------------------ King of the Sith, Emperor of the Dark. (Faction Leader) Exodus Relevant Links: Guide to the Sith Empire (Essentials) Red Campaign (Past, Present, Future) Sith Prestige (Faction Reputation) Here is a link to our Discord Channel: Click Here If you'd like to join, feel free to post here, and any member will be happy to point you the right way. If you have any questions, feel free to PM myself or any other Staff Members, and anyone will be happy to assist.
  8. SHADOW The black tunnels flickered in snapshot framerates while a madbeast of unhinged speed thundered through the old systems. As fast as his natural body could push, the dark rush of the force urged him beyond that. A sonic press carried the assassin over tremendous chasms between strides, carrying the hunter far beyond the highest paces of an Asharl panther. The deep energy buried here was his beacon, a fascination inside of him fueling his turbulence, for his return had only unearthed the weakest of adversaries thus far. This encounter would not yield the same results. Retired sub-oceanic channel systems like these were sullied to the treads with dirt and muck layering themselves thrice over, and tracking the march of many men through these conditions became a thing of ease when your eyes were one with the darkness. The adrenaline of the hunt elevated his sensory perceptions in every sense, almost tasting the threat of excitable air leaking in abundance, savoring the bountiful life force straddled at the front line. Communications rattled off inside of his half-mask, keeping him apprised as the moments between Darkhand and the objectives intensified. Erroneous blocks of static worsened the deeper he journeyed, thankfully stealing his attention from the worthless rabble that echoed through the wide shaft part-ways. None of that mattered now that he drew dangerously close. The Neimodian apprentice that was sent here had found himself in the unforgiving stomach of destiny, signaling the the imperial machine of a presence far superior to that of simple rebel scum. What was of interest was the crackling archaic voice that had rummaged over the waters of Mon Calamari, the one that spoke with an alien tongue unknown and abstract of forgotten dialect, in a tone that seemed more drowned than coherent. That voice had gone quiet. Silence. The language of chaos rang loudly, bellowing rifles spit forward in an overwhelming tide of power. Over seventy of his own ahead, enormous in gathering, engorged the underpass wastefully. The Dark Lord shoved passed the Darkhand, titanic in the way his strength and speed carved a path through the formation. As he swept through the masses, their tactical visors synchronized that this was a friendly that had joined them, but their shock and awe of the man was not subdued by any stretch. Too late. The only shed of lighting came from the beaming of glow-rods, and while the first non-lethal volley let loose, an amateurish scramble between the two unidentified creatures became reality. The Blood Prince gave them a choice, therein lies his lesson. Exodus crashed forward noticing the glinting metal of a hand-grenade jar unwittingly from the fumbling woman, only seconds to react, the allfather knew this well, he reached out from two-thirds inside of the shootout and heaved a wolfish telekinectic throw with his left. With his right, he simultaneously yanked his arm backwards, pulling against what he had just shoved. The thermal detonator, and three of the servicemen whipped forward with bone-breaking airspeed, and then as if on strings, the three meat-sacks were wrenched backwards, careening into their comrades. Two, one...
  9. SERPENTSCALE STONE Satvaskalez Akmuo ² "Speak softly now And choose your next thoughts Carefully, For the eel of black has called My soul to dance Reckless, unmitigated Abandonment Of mind, body, and soul." A mantled set of armor stylized and reminiscent of ancient Sith armor, with an extremely distinct and technological flair. This consisted of a segmented torso armor shaped like a humanoid rib cage. Ornamental, demon-looking pauldrons covered the shoulders, the armpits and part of the back. The head was protected by a war helmet that transitioned between half-mask and full wear that was jaw-lined with fangs. A protective warskirt of blade-shaped strips was worn around the waist, that fell over hauntingly chiseled greaves. The body-suit was made of black-scaled armorweave and shelled spider silk, with organic wyrmsteel plates that fleshed out the torso, shoulders, arms and greaves. The plates themselves oozed in an inimitable eel-black ink. Emblazoned on the centerpiece was the raised insignia of the Spider, stretched rib-to-rib in a dripping obsidian. Authored by the carvers of the Stormcloaks, the blend of ancient design and tastes of modern technologies commissioned what would be the first model of a medium war-suit. Flexible wyrmsteel plates overlaid an MR-Fluid (magnetorheological) armor layer, incorporating the latest in Umbaran technology. The bodysuit consists of an outer and inner layer made from the aforementioned dipped tri-weave fiber mesh, and sandwiched in between is the MR-fluid based liquid armor system. The visceral MR-fluid hardens in response to impacts, specifically designed to provide superior shock absorption, as well as enabling greater force delivery behind counterattacks. The liquid body armor layer is also more flexible than ceramic or fiber-based alternatives tested in previous designs, allowing for greater maneuverability and faster elimination of multiple targets in quick succession. The left gauntlet possessed retractable vibro-blades, while the right was left out in place of prior equipment. The left gauntlet has embedded sensors that work in conjunction to analyze foreign samples and upload data to remote sites. The inclusion of a holographic screen projector in the left gauntlet also allowed him encrypted communications with familiar intelligence. While this model held an edge in technological nature and offered the wearer their full mobility, it was only moderately effective against munitions. While the wyrmsteel plates maintained their augmented resistances to close quarter combat, in between those plates was where one could find purchase. The alternative Sith Steel and the liquid armor layer was highly effective against impact, but only offered moderate protection from munitions, especially at point blank range.
  10. KILOMONGERONE The Dark Lord lifts his razor-hilt to his lips. He closes his eyes and kisses the sacred metal. Then his eyes open, and the spirit behind them surrenders any inkling of humanity, empty above the slit of his half-mask. When Exodus moves, they begin to die. He skims diagonally across the front rank of the Mon Calamari Forces with such possession of his body that it would seem he was another species entirely, one made of wind and wrath. Quarren blocked his path holding what appeared to be fishing spears, yet knowing them to be far deadlier than what image implied. He sidesteps two of their thrusts and removes the heads of three militiamen, exchanges two parries with a heavy-set mercenary woman, before pulling a second shorter blade from his belt and skewering her stomach, ripping sideways through half her rib-cage. Bodies hit stone with a miserable thump while she stood there helplessly trying to stuff intestines back into her abdomen. She collapses to her knees, gobbling screams from her mouth. The iconic lightsaber spun in his hand several times, deflecting sporadic laser-fire that aimed to bring him down, before heaving the dripping heat of the blade through the mouth responsible for the incessant wailing. The sound of her was unnerving, it distracted him from the dark voice that seemed to bellow through the force nearby. Exodus moved towards it. He continued in demoniac hyper-combat, demonstrating a brutal fluidity across the increasing number of resistances. They were dropping like weeds to a steady mowing. Imperial Legionnaires did their best to keep pace with blade and dance, while team Sentinel and the Dark Troopers entrenched themselves into chokepoints littered across the rural divide. They maintained precision cover-fire to match the march of death, flooding battlefield Intel to and from the SCI. It was easy for the units here to leech supreme confidence when in the presence of their King, even if he said nothing, the language he showed them was battle. It was a surreal invigoration whenever they were in his presence, multiplying their efficiencies across the board with a dangerous hunger. The boon was passive, none of them understanding the power with which they drew on, and how effectively it encompassed their armies when he was with them. This was reflected in the urgency of communications that spread throughout the armies, a flux of vital intelligence that was now mitigated with helpings of static for those below. "Break, break, break! Kilo Monger One. Emergency message for Kilo Monger One. Do you copy? Over." "..Go ahead." "Darkhand has uncovered tertiary objective. Anomalies are especially evident, exacting coordinates now, over." "Copy, already inbound. Over and out." He separated himself from the battle quickly, dexterously clean even as conqueror in the theater of war. He eased into the darkness now, swimming through narrow streets toward the beacon of black that ignorantly reached out through the force. The hunt was the pride and joy of the Anzati people. His boots were coupled with the swiftness of air, while he mind cinched the harrowing voice from the deep, trying to decipher it's meaning. He was near. Surface level would only surrender so much lee-way on his trailing of the tertiary objective, but once he completed his rendezvous with the entry point, he would disappear beneath a checkpoint maintenance drain-cover. It was quieter here, and as the King descended, his fingers curiously ran along the concrete underpass. The waters were soil, ordure and wild excrement. Hunting beneath Maggot's Cantina on Anzat, far below the uninviting slums, was doubly worse than this. Yet, the assassin reached outwards, feeling the loneliness of the cement infrastructure and allowing the echoes of the force to track his foothpath. A binding force sheathed the hide of his gloves and boots; a touch of the Kiin'Dray now carrying his weight above the wastewater. His limbs spread wide, gripping the ungraspable, and then not another sound from him could be heard, vanishing as if he was never there. "BEWARE OF THE SHADOW THAT ESCAPES FROM THE BODY LIKE AN ANIMAL STARVED."
  11. The sound of it was expressively deafening. The full tilt of force that the vessel had crashed with, completely broadsided the patrolmen in their attempt at vehicular escape. The steep impact sucked the wind from their throats, and froze their faces in a shock that paralyzed them with fear. It was a sudden violence so unbridled, that it ravaged the metal framework of the hover-bus, irreparably buckling the transport and layering it in the blood and bones of those that rode within. There were sickly screams; this was not for the faint of heart. The long screech of broken and brassy steel, twisting against the road, was far worse than dragging nails across a dry chalk-board. Those that heard it, screwed their faces in displeasure, covering their ears from the horrifying sound. A monster of a creature heaved himself from the braised innards of the drop shell, shoving thick electrical cables aside and rising to meet the carnal smell of petrichor in the air. Morjanssik and its earth would be washed before dusk, a telling omen that meant more than just rainwater. Of note was how his jawline was sheathed in a chilling metal, bearing the keen measure of white fangs engrafted into its side. These were teeth torn from the mandibular bone of the White Wolf, skillfully handcrafted into a demon half-mask, or some would say. The natural exuberance of his dark skin played contrast to how it remained untainted by time and rot, covered by a wild wolfish black mane. He emerged slowly, wearing the kit of an ancient Sith God, accentuated by a lamellar warskirt flinching like thick blades of shadows in the wind. Gloomy, narrow eyes brooded within an imperiously beardless face, bearing vestiges of beauty underneath a depository of brutality. Masked lips, long eyelashes, and eyes somehow without a trace of color stared outwardly. They were tempestuous by nature, eyes painted in blind albinism. The rest of the detailings were soft scars and scowls lined with regal bone structure. He wore plates of armor so dark, that the natural light around him seemed only to serve and feed the oily obsidian wyrmsteel. His all whites, now darkened with a clouded grey mixture at the sight of the rallying opposition. The force of him was so raw and so inevitably uncalculating, that he seemed as pure as natural lightning. Undimmed by compromise and untamed by society, even the best of them felt here would feel trapped, so small when they suddenly realized the lunacy in that creatures like him truly existed. The gathering crowd slowed before him as if facing down a thunderhead, small currents of electricity swimming in and out of naked sight across his forearms. The primal half-mask suited to his face, looked chiseled from runic images of a wild beast cloaked in symbolisms of spiders, fangs and magnetism. The demon mask clicked autonomously before a second plate shot up to cover the unfamiliar face of the Dark Lord, forming into a completed helm. “Status?” “...Execution diameter confirmed, these people are disease-stricken. We approximate a safe distance of 1.8 meters from all sentient life. Reconcile ground formations. Quarantine our wounded, advised to eradicate all hostiles." A low voice rumbled through his communications unit. The Mon Cal Defense Forces were a little more equipped than initial intelligence suggested with almost a hundred foot soldiers armed with a variety of military-grade blasters and anti-armor weapons slowly advancing on their positions. Three emplacement weapon crews installed themselves into a cover-fire position, readying to hose down the Imperial positions. Three archaic T2-B tanks churned around the battlefield on repulsorlifts, hoping to make use of their shields and light cannons to ensure that their small infantry could cross open patches of terrain safely. Their hope was dwindling fast as they watched what had crawled from that drop-shell. More of the Sith Empire arrived by the second, hoarding the skies and occupying the land. Additionally, several T4-B tanks and old walkers with worn rebel insignia painted onto its hull, were reported as pinned down by superior armor and firepower with the Imperial Offense slowly closing in on them with their advanced treads and armored feet. Exodus absorbed the atmosphere once more before the rain, this time with his mind far-reaching. And to his surprise, there was a voice, whispering a language unfamiliar.
  12. Mon Cal Authorities frantically flooded High Command with red-tape legislation, desperate chatter that did little more than breathe undertones of just how fearful these people had become under the guidance of the galactic alliance. Independance, boundaries and trespassings were the moaning of the Quarren people, of a system that had been rattled by the rumblings of war in the past. High Command remained stoical in their speech patterns, unmoved by incessant pleas, hardened in their resolve and empowered by the massive armada that swarmed to their call. A dreadful and swallowing eclipse mourned over the diminutive blue planet, monstrous vessels casting a shadow as black as eel ink across the raging waters. High Command was cold and matter-of-fact in how they addressed the Quarren, unbothered by the dressings of their law. This was Sith-Imperial space now, and with the rumors of a rebel alliance, the sanctioning of this world would be immediate and heavy-handed. The Sentinels prepared for drop as the count measured zero. Sentinel Lead resisted the bile that built up in his throat at the sound of it, the nausea that he could never escape at the head of each drop. The old man relaxed himself within the confines of his armor, praying to whichever God would hear him, knowing that the coming turbulence would be anything but forgiving. Drops never were. But, any measure of the scurrying resistance at this point, warranted such a response. As it were when the presence of the Sith and the Empire of old were under collapse, command almost unilaterally preferred small engagements or hit-and-run tactics, charging in like this was definitely something new. DROP COMMENCING. FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE… The pod shuddered as sub-light engines kicked on, an almost unnoticeable shift in gravity hinting at the tremendous acceleration the drop shells underwent as it jettisoned from the cavernous hangar bays of the Goliath. Inertial dampeners burned at peak efficiency, graciously. Adrenaline filled them. Everything appeared to be in functioning order, the armored pods beginning to rattle and shake as they abruptly entered the atmosphere, nothing but the sound of slightly elevated breathing coming in over the comms. Hard seconds passed, ambient heat leaking through the shielding of the drop pods and the heaviness of their environmental exo-suits chafing against skin. They would shed these once landed. The metal became too jarring, tremoring loudly before boiling to a climax. With a final starving whine, the worst was over. Sensors cleared now that their atmospheric breaching maneuver was complete, and showing the pods of Sentinel team all roughly where they should be, no more than a few hundred meters out of position which was quickly corrected by bursts of the built-in maneuvering repulsor-lifts. Impressively however, the skies were filled with more than just their brilliant metal. It was an iron rain, a storm of Imperial life and vast machines falling fearlessly from the skies as hundreds and hundreds were making land and sea-fall. A swift scan of their target arrival area, and connection to the local Imperial tac net painted a rather bleak representation of the situation on the ground than had initially been suspected, actual numbers and vehicle designations being provided in a rush of information. The warehouses were in disarray, a fallen complex more rubble than it was intact, and a platoon of Imperial Legion first-responders that began to dig in amongst the wreckage. Secondly, a pair of AT-ST walkers mobilized into transportable sentries, monitoring their coordinates while additional carriers fixed positions. Lastly, Sentinel-Lead turned to see another drop-pod unfastening, his eyes were strangely fixated for reasons he could not naturally explain. Ignoring the tactical displays shooting across his visor, he knew that this pod was not enlisted within their drop composition, and that this one must've blown way off course. But when the devilish burnish of black boots clamored from the armored shell, thick incenses crawling from it in sheets of steam, Sentinel-Lead knew that a Sith had arrived.
  13. S I T H L O R E ORIGIN LINKS: • Chaining of Onderon • Chaining of Onderon II Name: Hjertet av Raseri (Heart of Rage) Classification: Flower; Dark Side Nexus Lethality: Extreme Average Height: Varies Average Width: Varies C A U T I O N The Heart is the result of a moulded cast of Sith Steel being infused with necromantic energy either deliberately, or as the result of a traumatic event, with nourishment from a Seed of Rage.This type of amalgam breeds an infectious Dark Nexus that begins inorganically, and spreads as swift as wildfire once the roots set in. This type of embryonic flora is experimental, and has been produced only once prior. However, it is said that a sampling of this specimen has the ability to produce powerful crystals under the correct circumstances. It is worth noting, that to economically harvest or mine such artifacts from the grove is far too dangerous for ordinary folk. The Heart experiences rapid successions in expansive growth, as well as visual representation; Stems, roots, leaves and vascular tissue enlarges swellingly throughout the first few months of seeding and the developmental stages transition almost daily. As time progresses, the Heart will transcend into an entire ecosystem, evolving natural defences and hardening like bark around the blossomed seed and metal. As the natural complex magnifies it’s reach, the rate of maturation and spread will crawl to a slower pace and acclimatize to a specific territory. The Heart itself is autonomous and is an embodiment of raw Dark Side power, feeding profusely without reservations, yet offering an abundance of serviceability for those that can withstand and exploit such an alignment of force. With such an immense harnessing of energies, the flower inherits the aptitude to manipulate and influence biological matter on a cellular level. It dynamically perverts everything in its domain, predominates the nervous systems of wildlife, and also boasts the tendency to produce entirely new Sithspawn by means of a rather unique incubation system. These utilities act as a medium for manipulators of Sith Alchemy on a creatively grand scale; Necromancy, Sith Spawn Creation, Dark Immersion, Rehabilitative Incubation, Poison Creation to name a few. Hjertat av Raseri is cradle of pestilence, with roots and stems covered in poisonous thorns. The umbrage from the crowning ecosystem tunnels and burrows, opening pockets and cavities for mutated critters to breed, and for the undead to reign. A typical Seed of Rage infused with necromantic energies will hastily germinate in the midsts of rotting corpses and wastes of biological proportions. As time progresses the expansive roots will cover deceased corpses in a weblike manner and seemingly assimilate them into itself. Due to the shamanistic influences of the Force that drive this aberrant vegetation in its life cycle, there are cases in off-world projects that lay evidence to reanimation of the dead in both humanoids and creatures alike. The power of the Dark Side runs infinite within this type of habitation, rhythmical in how the pulsing red of the seed beats just as a heart does, and can be heard hypnotically for miles. The primal and non-sentient volition of the Heart maddens with time and pushes to consume all that surrounds it. As it stands, self preservation is the true purpose of this phenomenon. The reason for caution is death and the seductive mesmerism of the flower that professes a bevy of alarming traits; horrid hallucinations and self-harming thoughts flood the mind when in the vicinity of the flower. It is advised to not linger in the presence of it for any amount of time. H I S T O R Y • -- U N L O C K S • [sITH HIGH-RANKING NPC] • [sITH SPAWN #1] • [sITH SPAWN #2] • [sITH SPAWN #3] • [PERSONAL ARTIFACT] • [MORE TO COME]
  14. W A R C H E S T x Command of Emperor King Exodus, and the Sith Empire. LOCATIONS Arachnakorr Bastion of Pelko Dragon Gate SPECIES Xian'tii The Ashoriath SITHSPAWN Dragul / Dragnoc / Dracsha HOUSES House of Exiles House Vhassaar House Zibeti LORE Hjertet av Raseri, Heart of Rage Pyramid of Sith Philosophy Sith Pyramid of Production and Logistics WEAPONS Slipblade TECHNOLOGY / ARTIFACTS Skullclamp Sith Command Interface Wyrmsteel ORGANIZATIONS Knights of the Blooded Drexl Imperial Stormcloaks Howlers NPCs Sith Troopers OMEGA Squadron Garik Doma, Devilfish Darth Infidus Darth Sensara Gethin'pugh, Darth Gw'rchod The Prime Agent VEHICLES WARSHIPS The Bleeding Kyber Xian'tii Warships Valhalla, Centurion-Class Battlecruiser ---
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