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Sullust


Tarrian Skywalker
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Kirlocca could sense to growing presence through the haze. It was familiar to him, yet not so much as a friend or a constant enemy. The Jedi Master knew he had engaged whomever was on the surface before, but when? He attempted to stay connected to the Force and sense out what he was feeling, but his own sense of understanding the situation was growing as the ship got closer towards the surface. 

 

<< Pilot, open the hatch, make a swop flyby and then take off and await my signal. If you don't receive it within ten minutes- don't return. I'll be departing on your flyby. Johan, trust in the Force. >>

 

Kirlocca then walked back towards the hatch and prepared himself for the jump. This would be a fight much different then the one he had on Mon Cal. He knew that only because the Force was already telling him that. As the door opened, the Wookiee took a deep breath and held his lightsaber in his paw for a moment, letting the energy of the planet swirl around him. When the Force spoke, he leapt out of the ship and towards the landing pad of the space port of the city. Even as he landed, he began to use the Force to control his breathing, to allow the Force itself to sustain him on small traces as to allow for him to be on the surface without needing a mask. Reaching out to Johan through the Force, he spoke within his mind. "Johan, let the trace amounts of air in your lungs hold you. The Force can sustain you. Trust in it." Now, the Jedi Master began to feel out where he needed to go. 

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Johan blinked for a moment before doing as his master had said. "I suppose I will await your signal or a call for assistance then master" Johan sent mildly exasperated at the elder Jedi's exit, though also mildly amused at the thought of the Sith forces reaction to a magic Wookie dropping on them from above. He checked his gear and flicked on his radio "Anyone friendly forces in the area need assistance or evac?" he sent out over the comms network and leaned against the wall to wait, casting out his senses.

 

((This is and open invitation, I don't want to get wrecked by a master+ level, but if anyone of Padawan to knight (or equivalent) wants a duel or anyone wants another player acting in and reacting to their area of the battle feel free to contact me in some way))

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Around the great mountain of filth, a world continued to die, bleeding away into the void of the Maw. The sands beneath his bulk had been sterilized even down to the bacterial and fungal life that had made up the majority of the industrial world’s flora.  The world seemed to shift and surge, tectonic plates crashing like the titans of the underworld beneath the power of the Force.

 

Yet...

 

There was another presence that stood out against the background of death and gluttony. A song that was opposed to the resplendent beat of the heart of the revel. The Wookiee and his Apprentice. The Hutt smiled in the heart of the storm. How many of this Kiralocca’s apprentices had he killed? What was one more death in this storm? A voice leered, distorted by the lensing of the storm, erupting around the Jedi like the volcanoes about them,

 

<<Come then, Kiralocca. Let us have a fight, blade to blade. The fate of a world hangs in the balance.>>

 

A drifting laughter came then from the shifting sands, rippling them like waves.

 

<<I won’t explode a shuttle this time, I swear. Geki is long dead, just as is Ar-Pharazon. Against me fell Darex and Fitt, Dahar and all the others. Will your fate be different?>>

 

The Hutt would await them, in the heart of the broken city, beside a still running fountain. The water had turned an inky dark with the soot of a dying world. He was the heartbeat of the darkness, his veins rooted into the world, a horde of dead about him.

 

((Feel free to join into the duel Johan, I will not kill you no matter the outcome. It'd be a good dueling lesson, feel free to read the dueling guide. I'm happy to walk you through it if you need it, as is WJ))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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He would have missed it if his senses had not been cast forth, as it is he only caught a bit more then half of the foul presences words, but he heard enough.

"Pilot, do a second flyby as close to my Master's position as you can, I intend to join him" Johan managed, suppressing his fear before it could stop him

 

"Yes sir, there's a small clearing nearby, I should be able to nearly land as long as we are quick about it" the pilot responded

 

"Do it." Johan stared out switching between the Sith's and his Masters positions. waiting

 

((Sure why not, farm boi could use some scars))

Edited by Johan Fae
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Kirlocca could feel the Hutt almost as soon as he could hear his voice within the air. His apprentice, Johan was suddenly close to him. The boy was sure and calm, a surprise from what the Jedi Master expected. Knowing that the Force was strong still within this place, flowing and moving, weather tainted or not, was a slightly comfort, one that he was sure would provide him with what he needed. So he followed the Force towards the very heart of the city. He followed the water, which was darkened beyond what would even come across as cooling or refreshing. More repulsive than anything, very similar to the Hutt that taunted him and was now awaiting him near the fountain, the very source of the disgusting water. The Wookiee stood for a moment and looked at Sheog, his Clear Mind was already at work sensing through what was before him. 

 

<< You come to a planet to spread filth? Plagues and tricks of the Force is a far cry from what the Sith are capable of. Perhaps you do this to make things easier for the Jedi? Or maybe you've become more sluggish in your old age? I would hope that you are not enervated from such indolent acts. >>

 

Kirlocca offered up a smile at the Hutt. As he did, he activated his lightsaber with a snap-hiss, letting the orange balde spring to life. He knew that his own taunts might stir the Hutt towards a frenzy of sorts. It would be a challenge regardless, as he knew better than to underestimate the Hutt. Sheog had taken the lives of many. Many Jedi would have attempted to redeem, or within their won foolishness allow for the Sith Master to gain an upper hand first by having the first move. Not for this Jedi Guardian. He knew what needed to be done if he was to hold his own ground against him. 

 

Kirlocca moved with quickness from both the Force and his own naturally long legs towards the Hutt. As he moved, he used his Deft Bladework, having his blade move in a fast back and forth movement, each one designed to make small cuts and wounds, none of which would actually do any damage to the Hutt's naturally thick skin. Kirlocca finished off his maneuver with a low sweeping slash. Even as he moved, he had hoped that Johan would pick up on the cues and jump in, taking advantage of the maneuvers. Even if he did not, hopefully he would be able to see just how much movement the Sith Master could muster in this fight. 

 

((1)) 

Actions Taken: Kirlocca bolted forward using Deft Bladework on Sheog, opening to create an opening for Johan. 

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Even with out the almost painful movements and whispers of the force in the ruined city it was easy to see what the Hutt and his men had done, easier to realize that a similar fate would find his family and friends back home should the Hutt and his ilk be allowed to continue unchallenged. He waited for a moment before his Master attacked the Hutt, taking advantage of the opening. Johan burst from the trees, blaster firing thrice at the Hutt, before he holstered it and reached for his sabre, not breaking pace for an instant as he cried "Whatever your here to do Monster, we'll an end to it" Johan growled. 

 

((1))

3 shots from his blaster and then beginning to reach for his Sabre as he rushes towards Sheog, taking advantage of the opening

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Bleary eyes, yellow and red, set deep into their malformed sockets, stared into the veil of the Force. The Wookie had come to fight, followed by an apprentice, both strong signatures within the Force. A grotesque smile played across the crooked face of the Master of Gluttony and Greed. Those that came for him were bright stars, burning bright and hot, but once a star crossed the event horizon, it could not escape the clutches of the dark.

 

Misshapen nostrils flared, sucking in a slobbering breath as Sheog licked his pale lips with a quivering tongue. They would join the heart of the revel, that torturous display of consumption, and in turn be devoured by the Maw. The Wookie’s voice echoed, and the Hutt stared upon them, incredulous, leaning upon his dark staff as though old and decrepit.  

 

It had called his work… Filth.

 

Barking, twisted laughter, flavored with phlegm and salted with the sighing whispers of overworked, obese breaths. Gluttony’s foul song, that shuffling heartbeat of madness rang out into the winds of Sullust, the storm echoing the refrain of Avarice. The words that came were of two voices, split, but echoes of each other. It churned not only from the Hutt’s crooked tongue, but from the jaws of the withered dead strewn about the fountain

 

...Biters and Reprobates

 

Sheog’s joyful demeanor was all but gone, replaced by a wicked thing, all faux grace and poise fallen away to the embodiment of the Dark Side. It beckoned the two to fall into its embrace, that temptation to consume. To join in the corruption of soul, for it gave such sweet pleasures. The black stream erupted into a river, rolling in black flame like the fierce Phlegethon, yet carrying a woe deeper than the Acheron. Temptation was beheld within its waters, for it crested in dark fire. It held a dark energy, attuned as it was to the Revel of Gluttony and Avarice.

 

Crimson light smashed through the storm, burning a line of char across the Hutt’s immense side, streaming from the apprentice’s blaster. Pain seared with it, and the Sith Master’s laughter took on an even darker madness. The Wookie’s bladework came next, and the Sith Master lurched backwards, springing back upon his massive tail. There was little point in the attempt to block the Jedi’s blade, but Sheog attempted to give the blademaster some respect to it, using his strength to move one of the three strikes from their intended target with his staff.

 

The other two found purchase, slicing deep gouges into the flabby, thick flesh. Façade dropped away under the combined assault, and the Wookie’s lightsaber exposed rotted, decomposing flesh. Maggots crawled about the wound, white and dark, undead even in themselves, spilling onto the dark ground in wriggling heaps as the Hutt completed his backward leap. He needed distance from their blades. Pain from the combined attack bled into his control, and the great storm above leapt with dark lightning.

 

As if answering to the wounds of their master, the bodies that surrounded the corrupted fountain awoke from death. Scrambling, shrunken forms of unlife leapt to swarm the Jedi, aiming to hold and delay them with a dozen grasping, desperate hands. Their wilted tongues carried the shrieking pain that they felt.

 

They were shambling husks, but sloppy clones of humanity. With a flabby hand in the Force, the Mountain of Gluttony admired his creations, consuming the pain he felt from his wounds. Weapons made from rags of skin, emotions marionetted by inhumanity, a feeble interpretation of the breath of life. They had enjoyed life’s once, but they had turned their eyes from Heaven, to seek Greed and the all-consuming desire for more. More than can ever be gained. All they wanted was to rejoin their revel, the dying joys of gluttony’s overreach. Oh, such beautiful Sin, and these Jedi were stopping them from it. They would tear and howl, seeking to consume the Jedi as though a meal.

 

<<Drink now of the Acheron, revel in her woe, and drown in her flame… Be awash in this... Filth...>>

 

A deep wave came from that broken, black river, as though a dam had burst, bringing with it all manners of evil. It would coil and lash towards the Jedi, aiming to break against them and tear them away into the clutching hands of the undead. It was no longer the waters of Sullust, but some dark and decrepit thing of the Maw. It roiled with dark flames, within which lay the extinguished light of a thousand stars. It waters reflected naught but night, and even then, it appeared as though the fires came as through a dark mirror, for they were made of radiation. It aimed to burn them to nothing but bone.

 

With slow and slithering movements, the great Hutt continued to back away from the Jedi, reaching into the tectonic depths below, inflicting it with his pain, letting it echo into the storm above. His belly roiled, churning with pain and rot. The Jedi would not escape the Maw.

 

((1))

 

((Took damage from Johan’s blaster pistol as well as two of the strikes from Kiralocca. Attacked using an undead swarm combined with a vast wave of radiation.))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Kirlocca took a moment to feel out Johan, as his apprentice did indeed join in the fray. It would challenge him, as it always did for the Wookiee. But such challenges always moved him closer to what the Force had always intended for him. To be a constant learner. And through learning, the Jedi Master understood almost too quickly that such an advance as the one they made would always lead to a subtle change. The Force warned him through a tingle that ran down his spine, the Hutt had indeed recoiled quickly through the Force and was attacking both through means of despotic Force like attacks. The sense he got from the water that rose dangerously high from a fountain like stream into a raging river. 

 

Kirlocca paused, almost too long as he looked at it, feeling a danger emitting from it. He did not see the coming undead, only the warning of danger that echoed out from the river itself. It was the first claw like scratch that stung almost immediately, carrying with it great pain and a sense of stronger doom if they remained close. With a loud howl, followed simultaneously by a arc like swing towards the undead and the Jedi Master moved backwards. 

 

<< STAY AWAY FROM THE WATER JOHAN! >> 

 

It was all that he could muster for a moment as his lower left leg began to hold a burning sensation from the touch, or whatever the undead did to him began to increase steadily. The pain kept him frozen for a quick second as he could sense still where the Hutt was in the Force, even without making eye contact in the general direction. His Clear Mind was helping him maintain his focus on his true enemy on the battlefield. Without giving much thought, Kirlocca threw his left paw out towards the direction of the Hutt, letting the Force take over as his blade left his paw. Using as much speed as he could muster to the balde, yet still having control over it, he made sure his Saber Throw would be a strong one, worthy of making the Hutt pay for his debauchery of the Force display on Sullust. 

 

((2))

(Kirlocca took immediate and lingering damage from the undead. He followed it up by using Saber Throw at Sheog.)

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Johan felt a moment of pure horror at the echoing warnings, his masters and his own senses and his shaky readings of  his masters reaction (a hard thing to read at the best of times, that it was fairly clear was worrying on its own) feeding into each other. The distraction cost him somewhat, a pair of the undead struck out at him and sapped some of his energy away, even if most of the physical damage skid off his light armor plates. He lept back reaching out to the force to take him away from the water, radiation and closest undead while firing a pair of shots towards the Hutt, using his off hand to strike out in a sloppy mid-air attempt at form 1, cutting apart one of the dead.

 

<<How is he doing this?>> Johan called out into the force, only half expecting an answer.

 

((2))

(Johan lept back after taking a pair of light hits by the undead, hit by both the energy they emit and some (mostly blunt) damage from the strikes. while leaping he fires a pair of (poorly aimed snap shots) towards the nuclear Hutt and struck a undead as he landed with his saber)

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The Hutt watched with glee as the undead struck, but the glee began to pass into anger as his enemies refused to die so quickly. Though there was not the feast of death, there was pain that would whet his appetite. Perhaps they were stronger than he had envisioned. Would these pitiful Jedi be the last living things upon this cursed world?

 

A blaster shot burrowed into the Hutt’s flesh, rippling into the fat, spilling maggots in their swarms from the torn flesh. The Wookiee’s lightsaber came then, tearing into the flesh and muscle of his face. Its power ripped through him, cutting his lopsided smile far beyond its nature. His flabby jaw hung open now, dripping globs of spit and partially digested food. The pain was truly immense. The corpses, that danse macabre, dropped to the ground, the Hutt’s pain overwhelming his ability to control them. They returned to the Revel, devouring themselves instead of their enemy.

 

The Hutt tried to smile at the irony, but there was no longer the control he needed to do so. Instead he sighed, feeding his pain into the Storm overhead and below. The heartbeat of the ground was beginning to join truly with that of the Revel.

 

One, listless, yellow eye stared at the circling saber as it passed by from its strike. He could hear its defiant heartbeat. In his formal years, in those playful days of ignorance and mass killings, he would have been worried about the possibilities of death, but he no longer cared. The Power he had tasted was beyond the veil of mortality. The world of mortals was but a pale reflection of life as it could be and he was the mirror to the underworld. All the same, a lightsaber was the weapon of a Jedi, and he didn’t care to leave such a thing uncorrupted.

 

Be unto the river, devoured.   

 

Starless night streamed from a greasy hand, reaching to strike at the lightsaber’s handle, at the very heart of its soul. He could almost taste the crystal within, its life calling to him. He would devour its power unto himself, and with it slay its master.

 

Somewhere, lingering upon the wind, came the apprentice’s voice, questioning the power he saw.

 

How am I doing this?

 

The despotic voice was that of a lingering wraith, roiling forth in its hate from the veil of the Force. There was an unsubtle power to it all. It invited the apprentice to partake. To consume. To join the revel of madness, that fell stream from which such magnificent power could be drawn. Deep, guttural laughter came from about them all.

 

Behold, The Dark Side of the Force.

 

There was a sudden charge to that wind that blew about them all. Hair would stand on end, inky blackness playing upon the shadows. The heartbeat of the Revel began to pound loud and fast, a primal call to gluttony, to consumption; to that delightful, devouring greed of the ouroboros.

 

The wounded Hutt’s laughter began to take on a derisive edge, and from the seeping wounds and dripping maggots, dark lightning began to curl and play. His strongest opponent was, for now, disarmed of his greatest weapon, and it would be a cruel mistake. The Master of the Krath opened himself further to the madness that drew him, letting himself seep into the power of the Maw, to feel its pull upon his mind.

 

The Hutt tasted of the emotions on the wind, the terror of the recently dead, the pain and devastation of a planet in its death throes. He would channel it all towards the Wookie and his hapless apprentice. Dark lightning rippled from his flesh, from those seeping wounds, churning the air with the smell of death and ozone, the putrid scent of scorched fat and rot. With a waggling tongue, the Hutt thrust the tip of his ornamental cane towards the two and unleashed the storm.

 

Chain lightning, dark and cruel, would rush towards the unarmed Wookiee and his blaster-toting apprentice, fracturing the wind with the deafening rumble of devastating power. He would cast them into the heart of the storm. The ground shook, a rush of geomantric energy coursing from the storm, channeled as it was through the Hutt.

 

((2)) 

 

((Took damage from blaster and lightsaber throw, loses necromantic control due to damage taken. Attacks WJ's Lightsaber with consuming darkness, attempting to drain the life from the crystal and make it useless. Attacks Johan and WJ with chain lightning.))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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He could feel a slight shift somewhere within the Force. He didn't know what or why, but he knew who. The Hutt had been wounded, and somehow that may have been the turning point. Kirlocca and Johan may have struck too early. Even as he recalled the lightsaber back to him, he could feel it's energy lessened than when it first struck the Hutt. Before the blade returned to the Jedi Master's paw, he observed the undead beginning to dodder as the Hutt lost control over them. Johan shouted through the Force, and the Jedi Master thought about answering him for only half a second before deciding it would become a distraction to respond. But such a distraction was already given at him entertaining the very thought. 

 

The blade returned to his paw almost as soon as his Battle Precognition kicked in and felt danger before it arrived. Kirlocca threw his blade up in defense, only to barely catch the oncoming Force Lightning from the Hutt. But due to the fact the Sheog had already begun the plaguing of the lightsaber, and to add that Kirlocca himself was already affected by the radiation from the undead. As the Force Lightning struck the blade of the lightsaber, it quickly drained it of life rather quickly, causing the blade to short out, allowing the Lightning to enter his lower left leg where he was already opened from the undead and caused even more pain then what he had previously gone through. A loud grunt took over as he fell backwards in pain and the lightsaber given to him by Tobias failed him. 

 

The blast of Force Lightning was strong, staved off by whatever the lightsaber was able to do. As his body was rocked from the Lightning that entered his body, mainly through his left leg, Kirlocca decided that he needed to act. He had to change the course of the tide if he and Johan were to survive this encounter. And it was beyond clear to the Jedi Master that winning for them was simply survival. This planet would not be like Mon Cal where there could be a rescue by the two. Sullust was gone and already consumed by the plague and debauchery within the Force had already taken it's hold. Now was the time to find a way that both Jedi could get off the planet. 

 

Taking all the strength he could muster, Kirlocca stood back up, flooding his own presence within the Force, creating Daunting Presence as a beacon for Johan and to hopefully will the Hutt away from continuing on his path of destruction. As he did, he could feel the Force swirl around him, providing him with encouragement and motivation to make his final attempt on Sullust. Feeling the lightsaber, he could tell it held just enough energy and power for perhaps a final move. Trusting the Force, Kirlocca without hesitation made a leap within the Force towards the Hutt. As he moved downwards towards him, he took his blade and utilized the Force to amplify his swing in a very strong and deadly arc at the Hutt, handing over Wru'torr's most deadly move; The Rebuke. It was now or never, as his body did not have much strength or energy to do anything else beyond this. And he doubted that the Force would be able to supply him past this move. Everything now hung in the hands and actions of Johan. 

 

((3))

(Took part/majority the Force Lightning, along with allowed his lightsaber to be corrupted Sheog and have continued plague/radiation effects in his left leg, along with Force Lightning damage to his left leg.  Kirlocca then created a Daunting Presence and used his last energy to perform a Rebuke.)

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Johan realized in an instant that dodging the lightning fully was impossible, and he lacked the skill to redirect or block it. So he did the only thing he could think of and dove forward, rolling under some of the blast and using the momentum to close distance even as he lost control of his body for an instant, he dropped the blaster as he came sloppily out of the role, obviously it had little to no effect on the Hutt, who may not have been truly alive at this point.

 

"I won't let you leave this planet!" Johan Yelled as he came up. the pain was immense, nothing like the electrical shocks he had suffered on occasion back on the farm, but similar to the burns from the sewer detonation on Mon Cal. Between glancing blows from the undead and taking a fair portion of the force lightning he had little left, but he took his saber in both hands and delivered one of the few techniques he had properly 'mastered' of Shii'Cho (Form 1), known to some as the "Sarlacc Sweep". it was a simple strike designed to attack multiple enemies at once, and likely would have been useless against a foe like the Hutt in under normal circumstances, but he was coming from a different angle then his master, and if the attack DID hit the wipe sweep would have catastrophic implications for the Sith. the Hutt would be hard pressed to stop both attacks.

 

((3)) [This was fun, thanks for letting me join]

(Took damage from the force lighting as I rolled under it, dropped the blaster and came for the Sheog with a wide Shii'Cho strike, hoping he would have to pick either me OR Kirlocca to stop)

Edited by Johan Fae
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A great, blubbery sigh echoed across the desolate wasteland that had once been a metropolitan oaisis. It echoed in the storm, becoming resounding of thunder. A weariness. The Jedi had become… Tiresome. Did they not know they were attempting to stop nature itself? That bittersweet embrace of entropy, of consumption. Of decay?

 

Lightning had not felled them, even as the storm raged against them. The loose, split jaw of the wounded Hutt twisted into a smile, lips adorned with hardened phlegm and the wriggling of maggots. The Jedi’s blade had suffered, as had his apprentice. Their emotions reflected into the Force, added to the screaming terror of thousands. Yet their tune was off. They had not joined the Revel, that cacophony of madness, they stood apart; like how the whimpering mewing of an abused choirboy ruined the beautiful inflections of a holy chorus. Crimson eyes flicked from the Wookie to his present apprentice, a malformed eyebrow hooking upwards in derision.

 

The Force moved, the storm reflecting in the stones beneath him. A new sound that had been building across the whole battle. Another tone had joined the heartbeat of madness. That quaking ground had, at long last, answered to his temptation. It had longed to devour, and now it would. The Storm Beneath had joined the rhythm of the one above.

 

The Hutt’s smile widened, letting the lightning die as the Wookie bloomed before him as a beacon of light. It was quite the sight, like some hairy god come to preach the furry gospel to the imbecilic masses. The illumination caused the Hutt to ask the eternal question; what would the offspring of a Wookie and a Hutt look like? What would they name them? Would they lucky and have triplets? Would they care for their aging parents like good fuzzy worms, or would they lock us away in a rest home?

 

A spark of danger.

 

Oh, it had been a distraction, not an invitation. Alora had tried it on him before, but she hadn’t been the Hutt’s type. He preferred the muscular and masculine. And maybe now… Hairy. Crimson eyes looked to his side-satchel, made from the woven fur from Kiralocca from the last time he had killed him. He would put it to use, but after the fight. So, they had decided to run at him. One last charge of the Jedi Brigade, 

 

The blitzkrieg of a Wookie and his apprentice was a treacherously perilous thing. To charge a Master of the Krath headlong was both tactically ill-advised, and a deep study in one’s own mortality. And perhaps a decent way to test the theory of an afterlife. But Kiralloca should know that answer already. 

 

Sheog embraced the storm, drawing himself back to his time within the Maw. It had been an unending embrace of twisted gravity and malformed light. Gluttony and Greed pulled upon his flesh as if desiring to devour him, but the Hutt turned that attention to the elevated steps of the crumbled building that loomed behind him. He offered the temptation of his trap to the Force. They were walking right into it. A dark offering, a sacrifice of Jedi life, but a small price for the death of a planet. He could see a smile twist upon the starless darkness.

 

Light and matter began to distort, as if the Hutt had become a dark prism through which light itself was distorted and warped. To move across distances, even short ones, was a process that took time, and as the blades of the Jedi struck into his supple flesh, the Hutt distorted further. Both lightsabers ripped into him, tearing holes in dead flesh, exploding guts in wet bubbles of superheated rot. He pulled upon the Wookie's lightsaber, tempting the crystal within to join the Revel.

 

And then he was no longer… there. 

 

A booming, wheezing laugh came from the stairs behind where he had been. Sheog leaned heavily on his cane, the pain of the Jedi’s attacks causing him to release the Force Storm that radiated above them. Unfettered by his control it began to shatter the sky. All that was left now, was the other storm that had been brewing for the entire fight; the storm below.

 

His laughter seemed to rip open the cobblestone street, rending it like it was flesh. Molten stone surged at its master’s call, ripping free from the bonds that had restrained. The roadway had become a volcanic fissure and from it came an explosion. A great wave of magma, bubbling and frothing like a Salazian Ale, ripped through the street to reach for the Jedi like spice-crazed Twi’lek, wanting to trade some physical attention for but a few credits. Joining with it, came a rain of superheated ash and stone. All of it surged to consume the Jedi, to banish them from a world whose natural order had been corrupted by the Dark Side.

 

((3))

 

((Was dazzled by the Wookie Presence, took damage from both lightsaber attacks and from it lost control over the Force Storm in the atmosphere. Used the Force to escape close quarters, tempted WJ's lightsaber more, and then attacked with geomancy in the form of a volcanic eruption aimed at the Jedi. It’s been an absolute pleasure.))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Let me start by saying that this was a rather classic Star Warsy duel. On Team Sith we have Sheog, a powerful Sith Lord capable of consuming all life on a world, much like Darth Nihilus, and is attempting to do so here. On Team Jedi, we have standing against him the Wookie Jedi and his new apprentice, the last line of defense protecting this world from this eldritch monstrosity. This scenario comes out of something like classic KOTOR, or some of the larger scale Legends novels. We'll touch on the bad first, and then touch on the good and end on a happy note.

 

First, we'll touch on Sheog. In the first and second round, you react to the attacks out of order. While largely not changing the effects of the attacks, it's important to note that Kirlocca attacked in order to make an opening for Johan's attacks. In the grand scope of things, you still took damage from both, but I'd like to set a precedent that duelists should respect attacks in 2v1s in order of posting, from the first attack of the first post to the last attack of the second. The exception is if the duelists post their attacks happening out of order, such as if Johan had mentioned his attacks coming before Kirlocca's.
 

Next, Johann. This was Johann's first duel, both IC and OOC, and while it's a good showing, there are areas that can be improved. I would recommend putting more detail into your attacks to give the readers, and your opponent, a more clear idea of what you're attempting to do. For example, where did he aim his shots? What angle did he swing at? Is he on the Hutt's left or his right? Things like this not only make the duel easier to visualize, but in a 2v1 it gives your ally more to work off of in their post, and helps your opponent understand what they need to do to respect the attacks.

Kirlocca did much the same. In a duel, you should not simply be saying 'I used x ability for y effect'. The abilities should be the foundation of the writing, not the other way around. Your opponent and the mod should be able to know your attack and what you're trying to do with it through your post, and shouldn't have to pull up the ability spreadsheet to find the effect. For example:

'As he moved, he used his Deft Bladework, having his blade move in a fast back and forth movement, each one designed to make small cuts and wounds, none of which would actually do any damage to the Hutt's naturally thick skin. Kirlocca finished off his maneuver with a low sweeping slash.'

If I had not looked at the ability on the guide, I would have no idea that the attack was supposed to off-balance the opponent. In the future, what I would like to see is an explanation of how the attack is achieving its goal. What about the slashes will throw off a Hutt? How can you take a different approach to it to match the circumstance? A duel should be more than using abilities in sequence, and the guide should only be the foundation of your character's abilities, and a guideline as to what characters of that guide can do.

 

Now, onto the good.

Sheog, as usual, made a stellar effort to eat him some hairy Jedi. His attacks were clear, descriptive, and from what I can tell, his opponents and myself could clearly understand the desired effect and ways to respond. He's very dismissive and arrogant throughout the fight, but is a character with a storied history that give credence to these factors. He does a good job of balancing this with the subtle realizations that his opponents may be more than flies to swat away.

 

Johann and Kirlocca did an excellent job of believably attempting to coordinate their attacks, and both also played their characters well. Kirlocca, a seasoned Jedi who has faced Sheog before and knows the danger trying to watch out for his apprentice and guide him through the danger of his first duel. Johann plays the role of a padawan in over his head well, and while not knowing who or what Sheog is, understands the danger he's in against him.

 

With that said,

Sheog is victorious.

 

 

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Time itself seemed to roll out before the Hutt’s bleary eyes, echoes of actions taking form. Ripples from these Jedi, becoming waves across the galaxy, changing the Force itself. Laughter, sardonic and dark boomed across the dying planet.

 

He allowed the indignation of that storm below to consume itself, redirecting its outrage from the Jedi. The Krath filled their minds with the echoes he saw, such disasters and death, the result of their failure here to stop him. The Maw was insatiable. It would consume all life. And they had failed to stop it.

 

The Wookie and his apprentice fell to the ground, as the Hutt devoured the very essence of life. He bound them then to the fate of that world, their Force, their essence attuned to the rhythm of the Revel. The bonding of master and apprentice became a shimmering light that passed between them, appearing like the web spun by an arachoaus catching the misted dew-light of the morning. The Hutt touched that web, letting the soul reaper taste of it. A dark light began to spread across it, or perhaps it was simply the light dying. What was pure became corrupted with excess. Desire becoming insatiable. Appetite to Gluttony.

 

The temptation was there, to devour them in whole, but who would remain to carry the account of their failures here? Was not the greater torture to let them live to see the galaxy die? To watch the light of the stars wink out, one by one, each a testament to their failure?

 

He would leave them to an embittered, broken world. Devoid of all life but their own. He leaned heavily upon his staff, exhaustion sagging his grotesque shoulders. He took from the life of his opponents, sealing broken flesh. The civilians of the city had been fully consumed, and now the rest of the planet was the main course to come. 

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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     A lone T-70, S-Foils in Cruise Position, sped through the Outer System. The occupant had been out of commission for a while, once it had been found out by her Family that she was wounded, they hadn't let her out of the compound until she was healed. It had originally not been concerning, because Alliera's armor needed repairs, and she'd be in fighting shape when she returned to the Jedi. Then she got a horrible feeling about how her Master and Fellow Apprentice were doing, something bad was going to happen, she knew it. Her Family was adamant though, she wasn't to leave until she was well, and her armor was repaired. When both happened, Alliera didn't waste time, and here she was. 

 

    Sullust was a volcanic world already, and reports were coming in that the situation in one of the cities was getting worse. Alliera didn't need to hear more, her memories of Mon Cala and the later explanations of what happened filled in enough gaps that she turned off coms. If she had brought one of those new Heavy Y-Wings or a Gunship, she might have tried to run evacs, but she didn't think that far ahead when borrowing a ship for her little trip home. She needed to find Kirlocca and Fae, the dark feeling didn't stop, and it was only getting worse. When Alliera broke atmo, she focused on what Kirlocca taught her at Ossus...'seeing' with the force...feeling for life....two lives in particular. 

 

      Thier location stuck out to the Mandalorian immediately, but not for their presence, but for the Darkness and Death. While Alliera didn't have much training, the hunger and evil she felt was easy enough to discern in it's excess....A Sith Lord....or some kind of Monster. She could sense Kirlocca and Johan, but it was a vague sense, and they were faded. Alliera didn't quite know what that meant, but it wasn't good.  She she descended quickly and set her S-Foils to attack formation. Alliera came upon the rotten core of the dead city, and saw the Monstrous Hutt that stood victorious over her comrades. She quickly strafed the creature with the Fighter's Laser Cannons, hoping to drive him away from her friends, to save their lives. 

 

   Alliera landed on a nearby level rooftop that felt sturdy enough to hold the ship, big enough for the fighter to land. "Attention, any available shuttles, I need a hot extraction for two wounded Jedi." Alliera called into an open channel "We're at the center of the destroyed city, look for the X-Wing!" With that, Alliera jumped out of the X-Wing, followed by the R2 unit she had been working with since she borrowed the X-Wing. "Once we get down there, I need you to pull them out of danger, preferably to this rooftop, so the shuttle can grab them...hopefully." The R2 unit wistled an affirmative, with girl and droid both dropping off the edge of the building. The R2 unit slowed it's descent by controled usage of jump jets, while Alliera used her grapple line to guide her fall. Both landed with relative grace, and made their way over to were the pair of Jedi were laying. The R2 unit immediately used a grapple line of it's own to start pulling Johan in the direction where the X-Wing's building was....out of the line of fire with the Sith Lord. After he had gotten Johan to safety, he would come back for Kirlocca. 

 

  Alliera alighted her lightsaber as she regaurded the Sith in front of her, she could feel the gluttonous hunger that oozed from the creature, even with her limited training and insight. She could also feel how powerful he was, she could believe that he would beat her master...and here she was...between the creature and it's next meal. She was afraid, this was even bigger than the freeze on Mon Cala, this was a Sith Monster that had destroyed a whole city. Not helping the feel of the encounter was the ash, her helmet kept the worst out, but it lighted the world in an eerie haze. "Is this the part where you belt on about some weird Darkside BS, or go on about some evil plan that's been going on for some vaguely impressive amount of time?" Alliera asked, her fear trampled under determination "I just want to make sure you get it all out of your system before I shove this fancy laser stick down your throat." 

 

('Invitation Post' to begin Duel with Sheog). 

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A breath through uneven, collapsed nostrils brought in the smells of a world, teetering on the edge of environmental chaos and sterilization. It had happened before, many species had faced extinction from climate change, a stars detonation, or proliferated nuclear holocaust, but it had been generations since a planet had died due to the influence of that power which drove him to consume. The last had been on Katarr, and before that at Malachor. Yet there was something new, an encroaching rhythm on the heartbeat of the Revel.

 

The overlarge Hutt sighed, a deep and throaty sound that was accompanied by a spray of globs of phlegm and partially digested food. The matted hair of the Wookie picked up a few wriggling maggots, and large chunk of rancid Ewok.

 

Yet another interloper.

 

The great Hutt was forced back once again, fire from a starfighter stitching the still-molten lava surrounding the fallen Jedi with gouts of flame. The ground beneath him surged against his control like a bantha trying to throw its rider. The yokes of geomancy were heavy indeed. The Master of the Krath leaned again on his ornamental cane, shoulders sagging as if under great weight. Crimson eyes blinked blearily at the newcomer as they disembarked.

 

Mandalorian. Female. Young.

 

The many-lidden eyes squinted, focusing on the creature’s armor, stance, the way they carried themselves. What was Terra doing here of all places?

 

No, no touch of ruin. No rhythm of darkmetal. But there was… fear. The Hutt’s face, even with his torn maw, curled into a wicked smile.

 

A lightsaber’s glow illuminated the swirling ash, bathing the Mandalorian in a halo of light. When it spoke, it was of a mocking tone that smacked of misplaced arrogance.

 

"Is this the part where you belt on about some weird Darkside BS, or go on about some evil plan that's been going on for some vaguely impressive amount of time?"

 

The Hutt’s unsinged eyebrow sagged upwards in relative surprise. He hadn’t even thought to monologue, but now that the girl had said it, he felt in the mood for a grandiose speech. His stomach roiled in protest, a digestive bile building in his gullet. How he desired to eat this creature before him, but first he’d have to crack open the tin can all such warriors billeted themselves in.

 

"I just want to make sure you get it all out of your system before I shove this fancy laser stick down your throat."

 

The Hutt’s many-rolled neck rippled as he nodded to the Mandalorian, considering the words. Greasy fingers held up the ornate staff upon which he had leaned, waving it like a wand in the ash-filled air. His voice came not from his broken jaw, but from the rumbling storm above, each word that of thunder. The ground seemed to bend with his words, and an electricity piqued the air. If the Hutt had any hair, it would have stood on end. 

 

<<I half expected a darksaber. They seem so… in chic amongst your… sort.>>

 

The last word was one of deep distaste, a cycnical hate that surged in a wave of heat from the ground. Orange light streamed from his cane, the blade shimmering with golden lightning as if embodying the storm above. There was a rhythm to it, a heartbeat that echoed in the air, a madness in which restraint was fading. The Hutt latched onto the fear that he had felt before, and into it he pushed his own madness. His pain from the last fight was wearing on his physical form, and a sickening, dark light seemed to leak from his wounds like electrified sewage.

 

<<You see, I have a laser stick too…>>

 

The Krath swung the blade with stubby fingers like it was a baton, like a sugar-high toddler swings at a pinata as he stared across the distance to the Mandalorian. He hoped it would draw the eye, distract his young opponent. He latched onto the storm below, tempting it into the darkening sky, to consume and make the world new in its own image. The forces of change, that which made up the magma of many worlds was so easily bound by promises of rebirth, of exploration, of consumption.  

 

A great rush of volcanic ash belched from the earth before the Mandalorian, followed by superheated lava that seemed to shatter the air itself from its very heat. Magma belched forth, unbridled by the earth, shimmering in the same lightning that bathed the Sith’s lightsaber, for it was a mirror of the Hutt’s unrestrained madness. It would come as a great wave to wash the Mandalorian from Sullust like the vermin her kind was.

 

((1))

 

((Attacked with geomancy in the form of a volcanic eruption aimed at the Mandalorian while trying to distract with rather... unwieldy lightsaber flourishes))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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  <<I half expected a darksaber. They seem so… in chic amongst your… sort.>>

 

      The Words thundered from the sky, and the Mandalorian couldn't help but eye the storm above. It sounded like a sentient storm was communicating with her, a vast elemental from the most fantastic of the Ancient Stories, and not the wasting monster before her. There was a moment where Alliera wondered if this was the case, the creature before here was clearly mid-degeneration, and the fight with her companions had not helped matters. Electricity danced in the air as the creature spoke, and Alliera her hair standing on end under her armor. Could this creature be the same that froze over Mon Cala? No...she would have sensed this monstrosity. She had just met it, and she would likely recognize the stench and hunger until her dying day. The light billowing out from it's wounds was almost nauseating, giving the creature an element of Unreality to the young Mandalorian.  

 

<<You see, I have a laser stick too…>>

 

       Now....Alliera wasn't a trained Jedi. By the Ancestors, she barely had enough training to feel things in the force! That all said, the image of the Slug Creature waving it's lightsaber/cane like a one of the Clan Foundlings would wave around a Toy Sword stuck out to her as wrong. She still backed up, adopting a rough guard, half drawn from her limited study in the first form and half from her Mandalorian CQC Training. Her experiance however, in both training and Mon Cala, spoke in her mind to keep her attentions to the environment. This creature showed the capability to move the Earth below her in violent Eruptions, as well as having some power over the storm above...she couldn't get distracted. 

 

     So, when the Volcano came from bellow, she was still suprised. Because seriously, who would realistically expect an ATTACK VOLCANO? That said, she was able to react quickly, grabbing her still unconscious Master, and ran for it. She didn't go far, just out of the square for a moment and around a corner. What she found was rather fortuitous...there was a Hover-sled, run by an integrated R2 unit...it seemed to be doing it's best to stay out of the way of the fighting. Alliera stowed her unconscious Master on the empty sled, and was about to tell the droid to get gone...until she noticed something. Her practice saber had been destroyed, it must have been hit by debris in the run, because the top of the saber was completely gone, with the occasional pop and spark coming from the remains. She tossed this saber, and grabbed her Master's saber, without thinking. She might need a saber. The Droid in charge of the sled was watching her, scared out of it's little mind. "Go, take him as far as you can away from the city." Alliera said, activating the lightsaber and holding it dangerously close to the Droid's eye when it didn't move "GO!" The droid went then, almost thundering itself. ALliera watched the Sled go towards teh outskirts of town and beyond....away from the phantasmal chaos of the Monster

 

   Alliera slid up to the wall, and looked around the corner back at the creature and it's work. . Upon looking at the two Volcanic events, she couldn't help but wonder: Shouldn't this be causing all kinds of geological chaos? Realistically, the molten rock and geological disturbances should have caused a much larger event, or the formation of an actual volcano. The Creature must be controlling the chaos below the surface, and keeping it under enough control to maintain his existence. SO Alliera wondered what would happen if she made things worse? She clipped her Master's lightsaber to her belt and grabbed her detonite, and plugged a simple detonator into it. Moving out of cover, she started firing one of her Westar-55s at the Monster, hoping to keep it focused on the blaster fire. After she was done, she threw the one pound detonite block, so it landed near to one of the fissures caused by the volcanic activity, and pressed the detonate switch on her bracer with the underside of her arm. 

 

(1)

(Used some Pistol Fire to try and keep Sheog focused on that and attempted to use a Detonite Brick(one pound) to destabilize the geological situation)

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A haggard, greasy eyebrow rose in surprise as the Mandalorian just simply, didn’t die. Nor did the Wookie or his other apprentice. The lack of death was simply disconcerting. A flare of anger began to build in one of his many hearts, adding a staccato rhythm to the revel, a dangerous beat. One that pulsed nearly out of control, revealing portions of the madness that had been hidden by the emptiness of the Maw.

 

Blasterfire scorched into the hide of the Hutt, digging deep in a gout of coagulated blood and wriggling maggots that sprayed the air. The maggots didn’t last long in the intense heat of the building volcano, the liquid in their bodies superheating into steam causing them to rupture in small pops of rancid vapor. The pain accumulated within the Hutt’s mind, adding itself to the rising madness. The dark lightning that swirled about the Hutt became more erratic, sparking with blackfyre, dancing to the heartbeat of the Revel.

 

Then the detonation came and there was a new, unnatural rhythm spreading now, trying to unyoke the storm below and unleash what the Sith had restrained. The Hutt smiled, the invitation to chaos too great. What the Maw could not consume it would happily destroy. He didn’t need the city to stand, the lives had all but been consumed now by the howling, ravenous force. Such destructive impulses for a Jedi, perhaps this young one would prefer the natural chaos of the Dark? The Hutt took up a paving stone with the Force, holding it before him like a casual shield against any further blasterfire.

 

The Hutt let the heavy weight drop from his shoulders. To restrain the geological storm had been an act of mercy to the planet, one that had outlived its usefulness. What had been a dribble of lava, became an estuary of steam, ash, and superheated stone. The last act of the Hutt upon the storm below was to redirect its fury from the steps upon which he sat his bulk. It raged out towards the city, to consume and devour what the natives of Sullust had built in their arrogance. The materials from which it had been built had been pulled from its depths, and now it would have its vengeance.

 

Buildings began to collapse in a fury of flame from the unleashed earth. The Hutt gestured to the destruction with a clumsy wave of his saber. His own stomach began to growl, shuddering with an unending hunger.

 

<<Are you sure you aren’t with Mandalore the Bloody? You've destroyed a city!>>

 

Maddened eyes stared at the Jedi Apprentice, the words hanging on the storm above, thunder echoing. The Dark Lightning began to shiver down the lightsaber, reaching for a release. The Hutt’s words were coated in a mirth that was fitting such a show of destruction.

 

<<Your actions are… ures ijaa… Wouldn’t that make you… Kyr'tsad?>>  

 

With a wave of a chubby hand, the Hutt cast the stone shield at the Mandalorian, aiming in an arc to attempt to hit the woman from the side, to cast her into the lavastorm she had created. At the same time, the dark lightning leapt forward in a shriek and crack, reaching to snag the Mandalorian in an embrace of withering electricity.

 

((2))

 

((Took damage from the blasterfire and released the firestorm to consume the city. Attacks with a force propelled stone and chain lightning. Also insulted the Mandalorian’s beloved honor.))

 

Translation: ures ijaa is Mandalorian for without honor

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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  • 2 weeks later...

      Alliera had not expected the eruption to be quite as massive as it was, clearly the damage to the rock layers underground was pretty large. Pillars of Ash, Steam, and Fire danced around the Mandalorian Girl as she stood; suddenly uncertain.  The scale of the destruction meant that she had been right, it had been waiting to go off. The Creature had done this in a relatively short time, only controlling it for it's own safety. She forced it to release control, and now the city was burning around her. That left her feeling fear again, this creature was going to kill so many people in horrible ways...if she didn't stop it. 

 

        She wasn't even sure if she could stop the monster, she may have been Kirlocca's apprentice, but all she really learned from him was patience and how to sense the force....That was it! She had no mystic super powers to throw at the creature, and she sure wasn't the best when it came to hitting someone with a Lightsaber. She had to try though, there were countless lives on the line. The hunger Alliera sensed off the monster gave her a sinking feeling about the fate of the planet. If he could destroy a city within an hour, what could he do to a planet if given enough time? Alliera wasn't planning on letting the creature find out. 

 

   <<Are you sure you aren’t with Mandalore the Bloody? You've destroyed a city!>>

 

  ...And just like that, Alliera had more motivation to kill the rancid pile of nerf-meat than the typical 'Save the World' shtick. The creature found the absolute wrong emotional string to tug. She was nothing like Mandalore the Bloody, and she was nothing like the maniacs and Dar'Manda that followed her. It was the reason she joined the Rebel Alliance. She had been accepted, and even shunted off to be a Jedi when her Force Sensitivity came up...it didn't matter what this creature thought, or even what those 'Imperial Exorcists' thought. She was a Jedi, and she was going to kill the fetid thing before her, if she could ever get through the rotten bloat. Seriously, how had this thing not died from it's own gangrenous mass?

 

<<Your actions are… ures ijaa… Wouldn’t that make you… Kyr'tsad?>>

 

   "At least I'm not a sentient pile of Rancor Poodoo." Alliera said, Keeping an eye on the Stone Shield as it started to move from it's defensive position "Seriously, did your mother just take a dip in a desiccated Swamp when she was pregnant with you, or is this the Hutt equivalent of a weird teenage phase that never went away?" Alliera quickly rolled to avoid the stone shield as the Monster threw it at her, hissing in pain as she did. The ground was hot, and she could feel the beginning of a few burns on the unarmored parts of her arms and legs. Careful to avoid Lava and Superheated Rock, Alliera pulled out her Master's saber, and attempted to stop the Electrical attack with said lightsaber. Alliera succeeded, mostly. Some of the searing lightning still got through, and Alliera felt like her chest was on fire where the errant strike hit. Alliera then attempted to swing her lightsaber in such a way that the energy of the attack would fly back at the Monster. Alliera wasn't done yet, she triggered her flamethrower, attempting to catch the monster in the arc of the flamethrower. 

 

((2))

 

(Tried to turn Sheog's lightning attack back on him, and tried to hit him with Alliera's flamethrower)

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  • 2 weeks later...

The overlarge Hutt let out a blubbering, hissing sigh, which echoed with a crack of thunder. The Mandalorian, despite the power of his dark energy, had denied his corporeal desires for a deeply fried meal.  His stomach lurched, turning and crawling within him, responding to unrequited gluttony. He could hear distant voices, those consumed and turned into his power. A flitmoth speaking into a storm, yet her voice was a clear tone within the Rhythm.

 

Armalite rose into his other hand, held loosely beside the saber-staff, glimmering with the fire of its glow. Ice seemed to shimmer on its blade, curving the light about it into a dark rainbow. The Mandalorian’s words bore the truth, she was child screaming as if against a too strict parent. Strike a Mandalorian in their honor, and they crumpled into a petulant toddler, all tantrums and tears. Laughter echoed in the storm, and the world about the Hutt seemed to grow dark. His maddened mind turned to Maw, and that which devoured the light.

 

<<You do not see my designs. The echoes that shall rise from this place…>>

 

The Mandalorian’s redirection of lightning came swiftly, and Sheog had little time to catch it on his own saber, it wreathing the blade in darkness. His hand sparked and smoked, and the great Hutt let the staff fall to the ground. The lightsaber drove into the surface of the shattered world and remained ignited as a pillar of dark flame. Crimson eyes narrowed.

 

The growing darkness continued to drip from his wounds, pooling like liquid night around him, gliding like mercury upon the ground, seeping like tendrils across the shattered earth, searching, clawing. He would have his satisfaction. The Mandalorian would be a paltry meal, but a morsel nonetheless. Hunger had nearly consumed all his control.

 

When the fire came, the Hutt embraced it. It singed and burnt, boiling away chunks of steaming fat, but his designs were drawing to an end. The Storm withered away, consumed as the Hutt unleashed everything upon the lone Mandalorian. Emotions, passions. Pain coursed through the Hutt, but he dove deeper into the Heart of the Revel, that rhythm of madness from which his power grew. 

 

Rage came as it always did, overbold and unbowed. From that wave of fire would spring Armalite, that great alchemical axe cutting through the air towards the helmet of the Mandalorian. It was bidden by the force, by the spirit of Rage. The blade itself seemed to warp, bound as it was to the designs of its master, each part of the Sith weapon crying to be first to strike lifeblood. The voices of those that had been bound into the blade cried in terror, Jedi and Sith alike; Teravast, Black, Furion, Sarna, Dahar. Five of the greatest had been felled by it, and now corrupted forms of them bade the blade to sink into another victim and strike true.

 

Gluttony followed with its sister in a wave of vomit, spewed from the great Maw of the Hutt. He would bid the fool to suffer, encompassed in an acidic river of rotting, denatured flesh and wriggling digesting undeath. It would rush towards the Mandalorion to devour her in its murky, fetid embrace. Stone smoked where the river ran, contaminating all it touched. He never minded a partially digested meal, and the Mandalorian’s acid-torn flesh would wonderfully tender.

 

Avarice , that bitter jealousy that lurked beyond the stars. It was patient in its attack. Avarice corrupted all power, dripped contempt into compassion, and the bitter seed that poisoned love with doubt. The Master of the Krath had found her within the Maw, where it took all light into an embrace of nothingness so strong was its desire to take. Those grasping, crawling hands of night stole from the ground to leap at the Mandalorian. If she could, Avarice would drag the Mandalorian mewing into the void.

 

The Hutt had become more than an insurmountable mountain of filth, he became that which fueled the Sith; unrestrained passion. The Mandalorian would be the rock upon which three loud-roaring rivers met; Steely rage, one of decay, the other of unfettered consumption. The void had been flung open, the shadows rent, and the true power of emotion had been belched forth in steel, bile, and darkness. The Mandalorian would die in streams of murky flame and noisome mud. She would be the star consumed by the Maw; broken and ripped asunder by forces beyond her understanding. The Heartbeat of the Revel would be disturbed no longer.

 

((3)) 

 

((Lost the lightsaber to lightning, boiled away some extra chub with the flamethrower. Attacked with a three-pronged attack of a force-thrown Axe, Force-Vomit, and a radiation beam. Well done, very enjoyable duel.))

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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  • 3 weeks later...

       The creature simply allowing itself to boil away, even if it still had something left under what was consumed, was disturbing. Alliera had known huts were damage resistant, but this took things to a ridiculous level. Seriously, could anything hurt this monster? Did it feel pain? Would anything kill it? That line of thought was derailed when the axe came hurtling at Alliera, with some kind of darkside spirits haunting it. Alliera tried to dodge out of the way of the axe, feeling more intense heat as her maneuver brought her closer to one of the lava flows, and what happened next almost sent her INTO The lavaflow. Alliera hadn't quiet dodged far enough, so her helmet now had a rather sizable gash in the side of it. The creation of this gash caused Alliera's head to recoil and stumble, and almost falling into the nearest lava flow. What stopped this fall was a quick grapple to the nearest roof that was not on fire, which pulled her up just as she was about to fall into the Lava

 

      The Vomit came next, while Alliera was rapidly ascending the building, doing her best to avoid fires and particularly hot pieces. Alliera wasn't particularly aware of this happening, but she did miss it. When Alliera crawled onto the building, she layed herself down on the roof. Her head was ringing, and the damage to her helmet made the hud glitch out. Alliera pried off her helmet, and tossed it to the side...it was useless in any case. Alliera tried to reach through the force to feel something to bring her back to normal, and she felt the world below her dying. She had been too late. She couldn't save this world, she couldn't even save this city. Alliera just hoped the Johan and Kirlocca get off world before it finally collapsed in on itself, or was eaten. 

 

     They would, Alliera knew they would. Kirlocca was an experianced Jedi Master, and the apprentice he would have with him was the one who didn't have a habit of blowing things up...which was always handy in escapes like the one those two would have to undertake. Alliera knew she would likely die here now, the monster was absorbing everything, and the city was burning around her. She didn't dare get in close to use the lightsaber she pocketed from her master, it was mostly there to do what it did. Alliera briefly contemplated dying where she was....letting the fire consume her while the monster continued it's path of destruction. Why not? She had made her stand, she got her Master and Fellow student both out of the way of the monster. Alliera did her job, she could rest now. Alliera looked up at the evening sky, it was ruined by the storm and the random black hole-ish things in the atmosphere....but she could imagine the stars. 

 

     Countless worlds and the Massive Stars they orbited, she had visited a fair few in her lifetime, more than a girl like her had any right too. The young girl briefly wondered if she'd be able to see Concord's Star from here, if the whole dark side thing wasn't happening. How long would it take this creature to get there, the girl wondered next, how long to Concord Dawn for a monster like the Slug below her? How many worlds would he consume, before a real Jedi stopped him, before someone like the mighty Paladins of Legend came? Alliera's right hand found one of her grenades, and with it, an idea came...unbidden. Maybe she could damage this creature after all, or at least slow it down long enough for her Master and Johan to get off world and warn someone. Alliera kept the grenade, a typical thermal detonator, as she stood up and looked over the edge... 

 

    Alliera shook her head, clearing the cobwebs and letting the thought settle, and working to make sure she knew where the creature went while she was recovering. Alliera found what she was looking for almost immediately. The creature was dotted with gaping wounds from her fight with him as well as Kirlocca and Johan's own work. Alliera just needed one deeper one, and she had one. Alliera quickly grappled to a roof closer to the monster, and then grappled down to almost ground level, using her pistol to try and cover her descent. As alliera got low enough to avoid very serious injury, she pushed off of the wall of the building she was grappling down, and disengaged the grapple. At this point, she depressed the button of the Thermal Detonator, causing it to start it's countdown. Alliera landed in a roll, almost colliding into the side of the massive beast, and attempted to shove the thermal detonator as far as she could into the nearest deep wound with her arm. 

 

((3))

((took more burns from the ground, got her bell rung and helmet ruined by the axe. Tried to use her pistol to cover her descent. Cooked her grenade so it would go off sooner, and tried to shove it and one of her arms as deep into the ugly slug as she could. This was scary and awesome, and I'm sorry it took me this long.))

       

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Whew, another duel here. Y'all are keeping me busy, you bastards. But I'm happy to do it! As before, we'll start with the bad, then hit the good, end on a positive note for the ruling.

 

First, Sheog. There are two things that spring to mind here.

  • First, I couldn't find any mention whatsoever of damage taken in the previous duel, which in battles where you're dueling consecutively stands as an important note to take.
  • Next, your final post pushes your abilities a little too far, I feel. From summoning your axe and throwing it, conjuring Force Vomitus, and firing a radiation beam at your opponent, you're using two major force powers while trying to guide your axe to your target. While the setting is Sheog clearly eating a planet, and the schism between that and what you're capable of in a duel can be a tad jarring, it's important to take a look at what you're doing and considering if it's too much.

 

Next, Alleria. This is your first duel on the site, and while your posts keep up with the narrative in Sheog's well, when we get down to the fight itself we're left with a bit of a pickle.

  • First, the power disparity. A fight against a higher ranked character, even an injured one, will almost always be an uphill battle. Very rarely do we see upsets of this balance, and that's important to keep in mind when deciding if you'll duel or not.
  • Second, as an apprentice force user who has not taken up a class yet, you try to take from the best of both FU and NFU worlds, which for balance purposes is not acceptable. NFUs are inherently at a disadvantage to FUs without these rules, as anything an NFU could do a FU could potentially do better. As such, we limit tech FUs are allowed to use. Between your usage of the Force and a lightsaber, and a veritable armory of NFU tech like blaster pistols and heavy duty explosives (Like the detonite and thermal detonators), this is a violation of our dueling rules. Again, it's your first duel on this site, so you aren't in trouble, but it certainly counts against you for the purposes of this ruling.
  • Finally, your last attack against your opponent. At no point can you write your attack hitting your opponent. Sticking your arm into the wounded Hutt, while a bad idea for reasons beyond what I'm touching on here, is closed attack, as your opponent has been granted no opportunity to defend himself. Even if he has a chance to react to the detonator, you've dealt damage to him by showing an appendage into a gaping wound. As the rules stand at the time of writing this ruling, even grabbing an opponent's shirt is grounds for a duel loss, as it can put them at a disadvantageous position without getting a say in the matter. Even for the last post in a duel, this is unacceptable due to the existence of follow-up duels and ties that turn into a second duel. (Again not in trouble, it's just important to mention these things in the ruling so that players have a clear and concise idea of what they did right and wrong

 

Now we can move to the good.

 

You both did excellently at responding to and receiving damage, and both of you led with clear and concise attacks that are explained well. At no time was I scratching my head saying 'What just happened?'. The scene was written well, and I kept track of the fight pretty easily. With the timing of the duel taken into account both IC and OOC, both of y'all made an admirable showing and despite the above criticisms, should come out of this feeling confident that you both put up a good fight.

With all that said, my ruling is thus:

Sheog the Mad defeats Alleria Tal'verda, and has next post.

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Armalite whipped away, its edge gleaming in the fading light. The blade of the great axe glimmered as it drank deeply of the Mandalorian Iron, taking into itself its essence and beauty. It was a jealous thing, always eager to change when it saw something better. A bitter feminine, her name of secrets was Invidia, that serpent’s fang, that biting eye that sets upon the heart dissatisfaction with love. The fell breeze of rot and putrid death carried her back to the hands of her Master, the Lord of all Krath.

 

Before the Hutt lay a broken opponent, alive, but listless. The Mandalorian rested upon the event horizon of infinity, pulled towards doom by a strange rhythm. A Thermal Detonator blinked in a gore-covered hand, lazily counting down to lonely catastrophe. Beneath its shell, the Baradium had taken on the Master of the Krath’s heartbeat, terrible and unending. Invidia’s bitter laughter, grinding and bright as fresh-forged steel, bid it to change, to follow the echoes of its master’s will. The axidate melded to it and with it the rest of the thermal detonator flowed into melted Aurodium, burning, and passing through the Mandalorian’s hands like water.

 

The Hutt returned the lively axe to its worn leather sheathe, the laughter fading into nothingness. The beast of the quiets would utter no more curses. Eyes of yellow-speckled crimson stared at the Mandalorian before him. He could hear her fitful breaths. The creaking gasps of broken ribs. The pain that emanated from her was palpable and as delicious as a dumpling of spiced Ewok. He drank it in greedily, relishing it.

 

Lifting her body before him, The Master of the Krath cast out an image of precious, honorable helmet, casting it to the dust and grime where it rolled aimlessly, no longer bright with electronic color. The hawk-fashioned T-Visor reflected the dying world and the grim colors of death. Brown hair fell in locks about her head, grey eyes fluttering in the fashion of all those that stood on the precipice of death, about to jump into oblivion. A child on the brink of death.

 

<<You were foolish.>>

 

The vile Hutt smiled, focusing the touch of the Dark Side, letting it fill the listless girl with curling, twisting pain. The smokey eyes shot open with a touch of bloodshot terror as the Master of the Dark Side shattered and devoured her mental defenses. With a grubby hand, the Sith Master picked up one of the Mandalorian’s fallen weapons, a modified shotgun, and held it before him like a wand. Her mind fell open to him, for a brief terrified second.

 

<<A father’s gift?>>

 

A great pillar of volcanic stone; obsidian, peridot and granite, rose from the shattered ground to loom behind the Mandalorian. That dripping evil darkness seemed to swirl about the shotgun, running into it with gleeful streams of liquid night.

 

<<Becomes a curse.>>

 

The Great Hutt rammed the Ori’kad through the woman’s chest like a stake, shattering through beskar’gam, flesh, viscera, and spine, to pin the Mandalorian to the pillar like a bug in a madman’s collection. As the twisting metal mixed with the woman’s blood, the shotgun became a lightning rod for the darkside. The death of an entire planet, shattered into reality, forced into the blood like a withering poison. 

 

<<Can you hear their screams?>>

 

And with that, the Hutt left the girl to live or die, tormented in flesh and mind by the wailing dead. The planet had suffered a worse fate than being conquered by the Sith, it had been exterminated and consumed.  

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Whether by stupidity, sheer luck or the will of the Force, the pilot Kirlocca had sent away and told not to return if he never received a signal; he returned to the scene in order to help pull the Jedi Master and his apprentice out of the area. The thought of leaving him on a planet to die seemed rather unnecessary when the galaxy could really use the legendary Jedi Wookiee in the galaxy. To his surprise he found the pair rather quickly on the outskirts of the slowly dying city. Getting them loaded up, the droid that pulled the younger Jedi on board was blaring whistles and everything else to let him know that there was another one that still needed to be rescued. 

 

Tracking the lifeform on the dying planet seemed easy enough, but the pilot found her much further in the main city, where everything was starting to go downhill quickly. The pilot had the crew move quickly and get the girl on board quickly. She was badly injured, with limbs either not on or barely hanging on. Most notably what appeared to be a shotgun being impaled through her chest, hanging from it on some kind of pillar. Once they had everyone recovered and stable for the moment, the pilot then quickly raced off and headed back for Nar Shaddaa quickly to get the three Jedi medical attention quickly. 

Edited by Wookiee Jedi
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The desecrated world of Sullust; it’s devastation expanded outward into surrounding space. It was so potent that as the Eternus entered it’s aura, the necromancer, who had been reposed within his sarcophagus in a state of death sat straight up. So strong was the odor of absolute destruction, of total death, that they were like a beacon shining clearly through the fog of the wretched being’s existence. A rotted tongue lapped at the skeletal lipless maw of the Necropolis King.

 

Leaping from his coffin, the undead, rotted skeletal being hurried towards a window looming out over the looming world. He had to see it for himself. With failing eyes, Inmortos took in the fires that could be seen from orbit. With a blink his view transitioned to that of another world, unseen by most moral eyes; and it was in this sight he delighted. Total devestation. Nothing remained alive on this planet, no plant, animal, fungal patch, or being, save for one. It was this one that Inmortos had come for. It was this one who he had sensed in his visions; a great greasy blotch of black power that oozed life.

 

With the wave of his hand, Inmortos directed his undead pilot, a ravaged soul of Aaris III aristocracy supplanted in a Sithspawn werewolfish body, to take them in to land. He would not take his eyes from his prize. Had the glands remained, he would have salivated at the thought, the darkness he was seeking. As he was; however, such an act was inpossible, and the ichor that oozed about his mouth did little but to coat his yellowed fractured teeth in shimmering black slime.

 

As the ship settled to the devastated landscape amongst plumes of ashen dust, Inmortos donned his nanosilk robe of midnight. Calling his heavy walking stick to his skeletonized hand, he descended the boarding ramp, alone. This font of darkness, this devourer of worlds, was to be his and his alone, unfit for the eyes of lesser beings. For even amongst the gods there was a hierarchy. In it, Inmortos knew his place. He, Inmortos might have been a god of death and the stillness of time, but he was not yet their king; not yet. Shuffling forward, concealed entirely in his flowing robe save for his white-boned hand atop his cane, the necromancer trailed an odor of death and a wake of it’s icy grip.

 

He paused at the sight of the great Hutt, fresh from battle. The being’s aura within the force was something else entirely. That was what he saw, unconcerned with the jiggling physical form. Blacker than that which he could yet create, Inmortos was taken aback. To be in the presence of such vileness was another sense in and of itself. His cane fell from his hand into the ash and dust, whipping up plumes of fine cancerous powders as the Sith Lord fell to his knees with a surge of pain through his body.

 

With head held low, Inmortos raised his hands above his head in reverence to the despicable being before him @Sheog the Mad. Here was someone who possessed the powers that Inmortos coveted for himself, for eternity. “My master,” he wheezed, his voice shaking in awe and fearful recognition of his own pale skills. “I am Krath Inmortos, Lord of the Sith, Reaper of Mon Cal, and god-king of the people of Aaris III. I have come to kneel before your power and learn of how you have done,” his hands spread to either side gesturing to the dead world about them. “I beseech you. Show me how to attain this power.” 

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