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Adascopolis


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Post Sun Sep 09, 2012 9:44 am

Re: Adascopolis

The sound of bone cracking underneath my metallic fingers had boomed into my aural amplifiers. My visor had foreseen the damage my punch would inflict, truthfully when one's arms were made of a highly dense metal alloy, pain was the only constant. As his body recoiled from my strike, I had turned abruptly to catch the exposed hilt of a cultist's downward strike. His form was sloppy, untrained. It was like he was given this crimson bladed weapon and told to wreck havoc in the streets. --Something I had not seen before this moment. My servos had overpowered the savagery behind his strike, as my hand had twisted, so to did the blade. The crimson blade sweep across the man's shoulders, severing his ties to the mortal realm. The grip on the weapon slacked and in an instant I was armed with a light saber.

It felt heavy in my hands, foreign even. When Varro had taken my saber, I vowed that I would hunt him down and reclaim it. The lightsaber to the Jedi was their life, given form in the shape of a tool. To lose it was the greatest of heresies against the Order. His mind silently thanked itself for becoming an exile before that point. The crimson saber came round and slashed through the guard of yet another untrained cultist. So far I wasn't impressed with the martial prowess of this congregation. They had managed to get a hold of lightsabers, an impressive feat on it's own, but lacked the finesse to wield it's weight. They should've just started hitting me with clubs.

My eyes had darted back towards Ahriia, to see that she was still in one piece. My senses still getting used to the enclosure of the suit could not focus upon the events that occurred beyond the line of sight my helmet had restricted. All I saw was her form was airborne, the ground ripped from underneath her and catapulted into the air like some poor skeet. I knew she could handle herself, but I wanted to help somehow. To be her hero, in a sense. However that flicker of a thought was squashed as I had brought my blade down to parry a sweep one of these damned cultists made for my prosthetic legs. This skirmish was starting to get on my nerves, anger started to seep into my blood and the looming cloud of the darkside had formulated at the back of my mind.

Give in, a voice had said. Give into your anger, and these cultists will be swept under your prowess. You have but to merely open your mind to me, and my powers will augment yours. -- You will become what you were destined to become. You will become my paragon, my knight clad in midnight armour. My burnt brow had furrowed under the strain of keeping this blade locked with this zealot. The voice slowly turned from a deep guttural rasp, to the sweet and familiar song of a woman. At first I had thought it was Arhiia's voice, using my mind as a platform to fight against the darkness. But when this heavenly choir had spoken, I knew exactly whom it was.


:: Kiana... ::

My hold over the lightsaber slackened as my helmet had tilted towards the sky. The battle around me had drifted into another universe, fading away only to be replaced by a warm white light bathing me in it's glow. I had felt this way once before, it had given me the strength I needed to carry on. In this tunnel of light I had beheld a woman. She was covered only by a simple cloth of bleached white linen. Angelic wings had sprouted from her back, and were spread wide. Her unmistakable hair, kissed by the fire, bounced upon an invisible breeze. And her eyes, once a piercing ice blue now glowing white, had stared down at my wretched form. Sadness enveloped her lips as they curled into a frown. I thought never to see her again, that what happened before was a mere circumstance. Clearly I was proven wrong.

<< My love... I am sorry... >> Her voice was heavenly, despite the despair clinging to her every word. My heart surged with both reverence and joy. Something I had not felt since being entombed within the iron lung. Her angelic hand had touched my face, not my helmet, but the scorched flesh underneath. She saw through my Vader visage to the being underneath. The necrotic flesh, the exposed cranium, and the clouded eyes saved only by the technology of science. << I've failed you Arcanus... I was not there when you needed me... >> My emotions had gotten the better of me. Stinging tears had begun to flow freely down what was left of my cheeks. It was painful, yet I could not stop. The cloud of darkness that hovered at the back of my mind surged forth and claimed my distracted mind for it's own.

:: RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! ::

Anger surged through my bones as the zealot before me had gained ground in my minds absence. My helmet sprung forward and smashed against the skull of my opponent. The Mandalorians would call that a Keldable Kiss. Bone's and cartilage shattered as my head surged forward. A sudden and violent cry of agony emerged from the man's lips, silenced own by the lack of connection from his brain. I had hit him with such force that his skull had shattered and the pieces caved inwards, carving into the brain that lay underneath. His corpse crumbled and his saber was left deactivated and smoking. The cultists surrounding me had been taken aback. They say the cloud that overtook my mind. They saw the darkness within me, saw how it was caged beneath pillars of discipline.

They were the one's whom had broken the lock and left the door ajar. Now they would be the one's to taste it's unleashed fury.
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Post Sun Sep 09, 2012 6:21 pm

Re: Adascopolis

*Sweat beaded across my forehead and ran down the side of my face as a soft breeze rustled my messy white hair. Sparks cascaded from the blade lock I found myself in with the two dark sider's as they pressed my defenses, attempting to find a weakness. Narrowing my eyes, I showed no fear as I stared straight into the depths of their own bloodshot eyes, marred and tainted by the dark side.

I was not afraid. I had been a slave to the dark side before and while it still existed within me, it was a power I had been able to keep at bay.

The cultist nearest to me flashed a sick grin full of yellowed, perhaps rotting, teeth as he applied even more strength against my blade. I knew when it came down to a battle of strength, that was one fight I could not win and I had to figure out a course of action that would end this blade lock before it became the end of me. Momentarily flicking my gaze in Arcanus' direction, I watched with cold eyes as he swung about his newly won lightsaber before returning my attention to the two men pressing their attack.

Then I heard it. Someone crying out with such emotion that it sent chills down my spine as it reverberated within the Force, sending ripples through the fabric that surrounded me. At first I thought one of the Arkanians had gotten in the way, but then I felt it before realizing it. It had come from Arcanus. Not knowing what had taken place, my first thought was that he was in trouble and without having time to pause and look, I acted. Pushing the blades of my saberstaff against those of the cultists' with all the strength I could muster, I removed one hand from the hilt and summoned the Force into my palm before releasing it into the chest of the man in front of me, taking him by surprise and sending him flying away from me. A quick twist of my body, the midnight blue tabards of my outfit swinging in tandem with my hips as I pivoted and landed a well placed kick in the centre of the remaining cultist's stomach, sending him careening into a duracrete wall. He wasn't going to be getting back up, judging by the way he slumped over as he sunk to the ground.

Flicking my white hair from my eyes, I stole a glance in Arcanus' direction -- one look was all I needed and it was almost as if I could see the raw power seeping from his every pore. It hung about him like a fog, his emotions running rampant as I watched him dispatch the men who had been foolish enough to charge him in such a volatile manner I was almost taken aback myself. I began to wonder if he even had control of himself anymore -- in all the time I had known him, I had never seen him quite like this -- savage and frenzied almost.

The fear was palpable, but apparently one cultist was still a few brain cells short of the average IQ and was about to strike at Arcanus from behind. Flicking the secondary blade of my saberstaff off, I threw it at the cultist and raced after it. My aim had been true as it skewered him straight through the chest a split second before I landed atop him and retrieved my blade. There had been scarce few other than Arcanus that I had been so protective over from day 1.

Holding my saberstaff out defensively in front of me, I positioned myself behind Arcanus, igniting the secondary blade once more as I stared down the dark siders in front of me.*
"I've got your back..." *I called over my shoulder, my face highlighted by the white glow of my saber.

I wasn't going to even bother to ask if he was okay, not because it wasn't exactly the time or place, but because I already knew the answer to that. He wasn't. I didn't know what had happened, but he was one of the few people I shared such a strong bond with that I could tell when things were not okay without any words even being exchanged. He'd been acting strange all day and I had finally decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. There would be plenty of time for questions later..*
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Post Mon Sep 10, 2012 7:55 pm

Re: Adascopolis

His body was no longer his to command. Arcanus had merely become a puppet to a will that was not his own. His consciousness was trapped within his own mind, dreaming a woman he had lost to the fires of war. It was something he had never forgiven himself for, thus making the hold his puppeteer held over him all the stronger. The cultist, whom suffered such a blow to the head, had died instantaneously. His lifeless body crumbled under it's own weight and joined those resting in peace beneath the Jedi's feet. There were only two of these cultists that remained standing, odds that were infantile when compared to just a few moments ago. If Arcanus noticed the sudden appearance of his mentor behind him, he showed no regard. He was truly lost in the darkness without a lamp to light his way. Underneath the mechanical respiration that shattered the silence, a guttural growl emanated from his cracked lips.

Within his mind, he stood vigilant before the shade of a lover lost amongst the tides. This happened to me before, I knew she held the power to come to me when I needed her the most. It was strange that she came to me now, in the midst of a small brawl in the streets of Arkania. She had never done this before, perhaps she had decided it was for the best. To let my body do as it may as my mind had embraced her angelic touch. That seemed like the best idea, to let her take away the pain I endured to be with her one more time. I enjoyed it, and I knew she did too. Her hands caressed my face, making my skin pimple in excitement. The luminous warmth her hands had bore was complete decadence to me. Bereft of such love, I had almost forgotten what it felt like. My scorched lips formed a thin smile. I was living this moment in complete bliss.

Without, my body had taken on a more feral pose. I was an animal clad in ebony, caged by the visage of Vader, and enslaved by another. Anger had become me, fueling my broken body with power I had not felt since I was a youthful knight. My blood boiled with a rage borne from someone else and had fueled my soul. I had become a living embodiment of everything I had once stood against. I was rage incarnate. My wrath could not be stopped, only unleashed. With the collar loose and a cultist poised to strike, my hand had shot up. Transparent tendrils of the force burst forth from my fingers, wrapping themselves about the poor man's throat. He was my victim, and soon he would find death to be the only peace in his life. His feet had lifted from the ground as I had raised my arm. His life had hung in the balance, and my body began to savour the kill. It relished the silent screams of agony emanating from his lips. My body craved for more.

The tendrils began to tighten as my fist began to clench. Ever so slowly did this man's soul fade away into oblivion. Moment to moment, he watched helplessly in terror as he died before one of his brethren. To his comrade, such a display of hatred was astonishing. You could see it in his eyes as he watched in horror. There was nothing he could do when a servant of the enemy had displayed a power that his master had commanded so fluently. A choking cough soon shattered the man from his momentary emotional setback. Instinct took over. He would not let his friend die this day. No, he would strike while this skull faced demon kept his focus upon the airborne brother. I turned my head to meet the gaze of confidence that had taken over the cultist. His hopes of saving grace had instantly been put to the torch as I gazed upon him. I finally clenched my fist together and let the corpse hit the ground with a deafening impact.

I knew that this cultist would flee, it was typical human nature when faced with something scarier than ones self.


:: Paradise awaits..! ::

I had called after him as he started to run. An audible laughter was cast from my suit as his move was cut short. He was starting to run in place, slowly dragging back debris and flesh as I had pulled him towards me. He was my puppet and he would endure a fate most foul. Yes, foul indeed. The pull was slow and steady, no need to rush his death without garnering a gift for the woman I had taken as my mentor. She needed answers as to why they were here, why they were slaughtering her people. I sought to give her those, to seem like I had gone off the deep end only as a scare tactic, to easily get the information from their broken minds. She would ask me questions, of that I had no doubt. But her mind would be to distracted to concern herself with my answers.

With my free hand, I had pointed my humming blade towards the man's back. His eyes had managed to turn about and see what he was to bring about his end. I could feel his fear, the scent of it was hanging heavily upon the air, ensnaring me with it's dark shroud. I was fully immersed in the bliss of this moment. He screamed in terror as his body drifted closer.


"Don't kill me!" He screamed. "Anything I have, it's yours! Just don't... don't kill me!"

:: Too late... ::

His back crashed against the hilt of my saber. The blade extinguished. He dropped to the ground, a small puddle formed beneath him and tears fell freely from his eyes. He thought he was going to die, in the most helpless way possible. To take away that control over fate, scared the very soul in it's death throes. I watched his pathetic, mewling form turn to face me. He could not stop thanking me for choosing to spare his life. Why he wasted his breath upon the imposing figure before him? I have no idea. But I decided that it was time to take advantage of the scene I had created.

:: What is your purpose here... :: An audible breath. :: Why attack these innocents? ::

"To draw the one... whom strides the suns from hiding." I tilted my head, keeping the appearance of shock and interest playing throughout my body. "My master... seeks... Arkania was the beacon... we had set aflame. The pyre... Innocents were the kindle and we... we chosen few... were the consuming fire."

:: Incoherent, if you value your life... :: Yet another breath. :: Speak plainly. ::

He spat at my feet, an act of defiance from some shred of courage he had left. I knew he would not speak no more, not when he had said enough. Tendrils of darkness had flew from my fingers and once again wrapped themselves around his wretched form. He had failed me, a voice had called off in the distance. In a flash, the saber was humming and active. The cultist's body hung limply in the air, a blade of crimson protruding from his heart. A silent gasp had escaped his lips as his life had ended. Crashing to the ground, my fingers had left go of the weapon I held. My foot had lcome down upon the cylinder, crushing it underfoot. It's song of death, silenced forevermore. The cloud that had taken control of my mind had started to cut all of it's strings. My mind was once again mine, suddenly surrounded by the recently slain. Kiana was gone. She vanished. No lingering goodbyes as she left like the last time. No trace of her form ever having touched my covered face.

I turned to face Arhiia, joy overtaking my voice as it was emulated through my vocabulator.


:: I saw Kiana once more..! ::
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Post Tue Sep 11, 2012 1:02 pm

Re: Adascopolis

*Through it all I turned and watched. I could see that Arcanus was losing control and part of me wanted to step in and interfere, but an even greater part of me felt no pity for these men. They had come to my home and attacked my people, mercy was the last thing they would get from me. Eyebrows furrowed, a stern expression plastered across my face, I found myself unable to turn away or tune out the events unfolding before me. I was in shock, but it didn't show because I had no idea I was in shock to begin with.

Once upon a time I had been a master of the Jedi Order, now I was confused...what had happened?

I should feel some sense of remorse, some pity. Nothing. I felt no anger, no hatred either. It was a strange sense of nothingness that had suddenly swept over me, suffocating like a blanket of darkness. Ice blue eyes glued to the cultist on his knees before Arcanus, I relaxed slightly -- he was the last -- the immediate threat had ended for the time being, so I clipped my saberstaff to my belt once more. My attention had begun to drift until Arcanus spoke directly to me.*


"Arcanus, she's dead. Been that way for years now..." *I said plainly, almost casually, straight to the point as I stared at the ground. I was still processing what had just happened and some of it was finally starting to sink in. Crossing an arm over my chest, I reached up and thoughtfully rubbed my chin as I chewed my lip. Pausing, I finally looked up at him inquisitively,* "Who else knew you were coming here? To Arkania, I mean?" *Tilting my head, I studied him through a piercing gaze.

My mind had already unraveled the riddle between the lines except I was not quite privy to all of the answers just yet.

For a moment I wondered what was going on within the confines of his mind, it was almost as if he wasn't quite himself during the fighting -- as if he had somehow just "checked out." These were not powers I had ever taught him, course we had been in and out of one another's lives for many years now, so another source would have to be accounted for. But still....it was plausible that he could have picked up things elsewhere. Something still did not feel right and I wasn't so sure it was due to the carnage and overbearing atmosphere that hung around me since the riots had begun.

But what did Kiana have to do with all of this? There were so many seemingly unrelated pieces to this puzzle that it was mind boggling to try to piece them together.*
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Post Wed Sep 12, 2012 5:29 pm

Re: Adascopolis

She was dead. Even though I knew it was true, having witnessed it with my own eyes. It was still heart breaking to hear all over again. This was the only wound that would not heal, the one that cut deeper than any blade. I could still remember the glaze over top her eyes as I held her dying form. The assassin's blade still buried beneath her body glove. The blood staining her face and mine. The pained whispers of love, drowned out by the sounds of my sorrow. It was all to much to bare, I couldn't handle the despair gripping my heart once more. Not as I was, not as a man giving life to the past. I could not turn into the fallen one. Though the differences now were sparse, our lives were different. I held true to the light throughout my sorrow, he did not. It was in that moment when she had told me that my wife had died, that a tear had fell from my eye. As it cascaded across my face it burned, a silver of what festered within.

:: You're right... :: I had said, sorrow hanging heavily from my erstwhile monotone voice. :: She's long dead... :: My head had hung low as I admitted this, as if I could scarcely believe it myself.

It took me a moment to collect myself, compartmentalizing my thoughts and to focus upon the burning city. There were greater things at work here, and I had already avenged my love's death. She could rest in peace knowing his body was scattered to the winds. That was enough for me to be at ease with her loss, though never truly able to move on. Switching my line of thought towards my arrival here, I had not told anyone I had come. The only ones that knew were the Republic personnel I had arrived with, and they couldn't have contacted anyone. I would've felt the the malicious intent behind something this catastrophic. So as it seemed, we were stuck at square one.

Inhaling deeply and turning my gaze upon my mentor, I had told her of what I knew. Despite being nothing, I still had to keep her from falling into the dark. Information was victory, they say. The more of it you have, the better your chances would be to emerge unscathed and bathing in glory.


:: No one save those aboard my ship... ::

As I had thought of all those familiar faces, my eyes had drifted towards the fallen cultists laying about our feet. In life, there was nothing familiar about these men, their acts to strange to even comprehend. As they lay dead however, a spark of remembrance had shot through my mind.

:: Wait... ::

I had been the harbinger of Adascopolis' doom. In coming back to this place, I had cosigned it's death at the hands of those I once respected. I had brought these cultists here aboard my ship, they were once supposedly devout to the Republic and the Order there after. I was sure of it when I had assigned them all to my crew! Yet here one of them lay, his face ritually scarred and his betrayal evident.

:: Part of my vessel's crew... :: My vocabulator had broadcast, as my foot had turned the man's face skyward.
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Post Mon Sep 24, 2012 6:15 pm

Re: Adascopolis

Shaking my head, I reached up and ran a hand through my white hair, brushing it out of my face. Taking a deep breath, I sighed in resignation and walked towards Arcanus. The air had a metallic scent that hung like a cloud around us. The smell of blood. It was almost nauseating, but definitely added an edge to my attitude since it wasn't something I could readily filter out and effectively ignore.

"I'm sorry.." I spoke softly as I came to stand next to him. "It doesn't matter how right I am," Extending my arm out towards him, I placed my hand on his bicep, since I couldn't easily reach his shoulder, and gave a reassuring squeeze. A distraught, downtrodden expression crossed my face as I looked at him. "I was still being an insensitive choobies.." I admitted as the corner of my mouth turned upwards in a lopsided grin.

And I was being a bit of an choobies, there was plenty of truth in that statement. This turn of events had made me cranky and callous. How quickly it seemed I had forgotten the pain that was brought about by losing a loved one. I was more than sympathetic for my friend, but like always emotion hijacked logic.

Studying him with a contemplative gaze as he came to the realization about his crew, I sighed and followed his line of sight. Now this was something to consider. It seemed those we chose to trust the most were those who hid the greatest darkness within. I frowned as my tense expression softened.


"Don't blame yourself." I wasn't reading his mind through the Force, but I knew Arcanus well enough to know pretty much what was going through his mind right now. I gave his arm another gentle squeeze, turning my icy blue eyes towards him. "You had no way of knowing." And it was the truth that I spoke. Ferocity swelled up within my breast at the admission that these men were supposed to be on our side and was reflected in a nexus of fire swirling within my eyes.

"They are only to blame for their actions.."
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Post Tue Sep 25, 2012 7:06 pm

Re: Adascopolis

Betrayal. It was as close to me as any woman I have loved. Sufficed to say, I knew it well. Having grown up in it's embrace I had believed myself used to it's caress. But as I looked upon the scarred face of one of the men I had learned to love as a friend, it hit me harder than anything I could ever imagine. My heart began to sink as I pulled my boot away from his mangled face. My crew was but the first to betray me in my darkest hours, and had I known what was to come I would've never returned to Arkania. I had waltzed willingly into the spider's web, and unknowingly I continued to press forward. My eyes had not left this Cultist's face as my boot had returned to my side. I still could not believe that this was happening to me. That my arrival here was connected to the fires that raged within this very city. That somehow everything here was meant to draw me out from hiding and reveal to the galaxy what destruction my coming brings.

Letting a sorrowful sigh slip past my burnt lips, I tore my attention away from the fallen former comrade.


:: I blame myself only for... :: A heavy labored breath was emitted from my chest. :: Not seeing the truth... ::

I expected her to counter, saying that I should not blame myself once more. I did not desire to hear more of her pity, she said she was sorry for being an insensitive choobies regarding the death of my wife and I had forgiven her. Having been entombed within this technological terror, nothing but pity had become my company. I was tired of I'm sorry and of gentle caresses of sorrow. I wanted out. I wanted to be free of this suit and feel the gentle kiss of snow once more. I wanted to be able to feel the heat of battle once more, and not be stung by own sweat.

I wanted many things in this life, yet as I looked back, I knew they would become nothing more than vaunted dreams.


              * * * *

*Off in the distance there was a terrifying sound that echoed throughout the gore slicked streets pf Adascopolis. It was the sound of pain being inflicted upon some hellish creature, as if it's very form was being torn molecule by molecule. The scream itself was bloodcurdling, primal, and horrible to behold. Those caught in it's vicious path would drop to their knees, as the voice bore deep into their unshielded minds. It was an unnatural bellow, one brought on by the darkness of the force. One that would effect our heroes in a way they could never imagine.

This was the sound of Arkania entering it's death throes.*


              * * * *

As the blast of vocalized scream had burst into the air, my aural receptors exploded with static as it tried to compensate for the change in pitch. Even though I had placed my hands upon my helm, I could not silence the scream resounding within my skull. The damage was nothing more than a loud and constant ringing within my enhanced ears, something I could recover from if given the time. I dared not think of what would happen to a woman not blessed with the mental fortitude of a Jedi. The sight of it would sicken me to the core.

As fate would have it, I would bear witness to it's effects.

Down the street I had seen some poor woman stumble from her home, screaming in agony. Her eyes were bleeding, just as her ears were. she was wracked with pain as her hands unsteadily came to cover her ears. Her body was trembling beneath her robes, shaking violently. As the climax came to pass, I could not help myself. I stared in amazement as her eyes burst forth from her skull and her crimson vitae drenched the ash trodden snow beneath. As she collapsed, my feet took a step backwards. Not out of terror, but of shock.


:: Dear gods.... ::
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Post Wed Sep 26, 2012 3:57 pm

Re: Adascopolis

Defiantly crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked a knee, and scowled at Arcanus. I had known betrayal exactly the same as he knew now, several times in fact. The first of which had been when I was just a child and though I didn't remember most of it, just knowing that allies of my family had arranged for their executions was enough to make it sting. The second instance was 6 years ago during the break out of the first Arkanian civil war. Nearly my whole cabinet had betrayed me that time around. It was as if Arkania gave life to such a volatile atmosphere, as if the planet itself thrived off of betrayal fueled by power grabs and the like. It was the only constant variable.

Maybe this planet was so tainted by evil that not even the Jedi could cleanse it, I mused.

I was about ready to object to Arcanus and point out the stupidity of his statement, yes, it seemed the tendency to be an choobies struck me quite often as of late, but I was waylaid when I began to feel rather faint. For a split second there was no silence, there was no noise. Everything and nothing filled the air at the same time. Like thunder without a sound. It hurt everywhere, but it also brought me pleasure. I was confused. Reaching into the Force I plucked a small stream from its current, diverting it for my own use as I threw up my mental barriers.

I stumbled as the earth beneath my feet seemed to destabilize momentarily and frantically scrambled to catch myself on the fallen stone column off to my side, briefly noticing Arcanus struggling against the very same thing out of the corner of my eye. I felt fear for the first time in a very long time. And then the pressure against my mental barriers increased tenfold before ceasing altogether. Leaning against the stone, it was cool against the pale blue skin of my face as I took a moment to catch my breath, heart beating in my ears as my vision darkened. Something warm and wet dripped down my cheek, tickling my skin almost. Sweat? No. I looked down at the pale white stone now newly stained a bright crimson hue. Steadying myself, I pushed off the column and turned towards Arcanus, the crimson of my blood tracing a bold line from the corner of one eye and down my cheek. Bringing a shaky hand up to my face, I recoiled as I pulled my slender fingers away, now wet with my own blood.

My attention was redirected as I heard a shrill scream emit from a woman who had just stumbled onto the street, the noise itself was almost painful to listen to and it struck a cord within me that raised my blood pressure even higher. Her eyes. Ears. Blood was streaming down her face and as she shook with such violent tremors, I shivered, but could not look away.

Eyes widening at the events unfolding before me, I swallowed hard -- audibly -- I could do nothing as I stood there staring at the lifeless form of the woman who had collapsed. I was clearly distressed and perplexed at the same time.


"What in chaos...?" I whispered softly -- mostly to myself -- as a gentle breeze caressed my face and tousled my hair. I had never felt weaker than I did in that moment and it made me just want to cry. Slowly turning to look at Arcanus, I knew right then and there that I could be the stalwart warrior I needed to be. My resolve had never been stronger. "Hmm... I don't suppose you neglected to mention /that/ being in your cargo hold before landing, eh?" I said halfheartedly, referring to whatever creature had made such a godawful sound, as I attempted to make light of the situation at hand.
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Post Fri Oct 05, 2012 8:37 pm

Re: Adascopolis

In the Heart of Adascopolis..

*Far from the Jedi bound by winter's embrace, stood a man. Venerable in age and appearance, clad in resplendent armour of glittering copper, and wrapped in a veil of liquified sapphires trimmed in molten silver. Poised above a dais with arms raised towards the heavens, he persevered through the lengthy incantation spewing from his hidden lips. The language was not one his mouth was accustomed too, being foreign in nature. The annunciation was harsh, low, and often enough came out as a primal growl. This was producing the desired effect, as the ruinous nature of the ritual needed something primordial rather than perfection. The skies swirled about the mysterious azure figure, the very world obeying it's new masters whim. The celestial sphere crackled in anger as more and more of these feral words clawed their way from his gullet. Illuminated by the flashes of lightning, several figures loosely gathered about their apostle. Each wore the same hue of robes as their divine leader, and each wore a dull beaten cooper mask over their features. Arkania would not be beaten by an expansive force of arms. It would not be defeated by the prowess of a naval officer. This world would be torn asunder by the very energy that connected the very universe together.

The primordial annihilator. The Dark Side of the Force. The one before the dais was it's herald. He was the bringer of agony and the lord of pain. His very presence foretold the waning hours of this winter wonderlands existence. For he was a Dark Lord of the Sith and he was the Villain of this story. Those before him were his minions. His expendable pawns. Everyone of them had a story of their own, each one more varied than the last. To the apostle's left stood a figure arrayed in azure, easily perceived as a woman for the subtle curves hidden beneath her finery. Her name was Lelith, and she was dubbed the Princess of Excess for her use of ruthless adultery to rise to power. Behind the mask of beaten copper, strands of raven black hair lethargically laid about her covered collar. Beside her stood Thanatos, known to this cult as the Silent Guardian. He was an assassin by trade, and the armour he had worn beneath his flowing sapphire robes had picked him out as such. Surrounding these two figures, were various members of the sect's hierarchy, everyone of them blending in as if they were but the same.

Afore them all, lay the wounded carcass of a broken beast. It was battered and caked with it's own liquids. A Reek, is the name it went by when sentient life had discovered it upon another system. It's slime encrusted tongue hung limply from his swollen orifice. With a devilish smile crossing his lips, the apostle tore his arms from the skies and brought the deafening crack of thunder upon the ailing beast. Smoke billowed from it's smoldering flesh, the scent of scorched flesh filled the air. From where the bolt had struck, the darkness that floated about them all poured into the wound. Inside the beast everything that made it what it was, was being broken down molecule by molecule. It's very genetic structure was being reformed into something akin to a living nightmare. The beast howled as it's master set to work, the high pitched scream became a carrion call for the tides of death itself. Within the very DNA of this Reek, a pathogen would be born. Formed from the lingering energies of the darkness and nature herself, a virus would burst forth into the veins of the animal. Infecting everything.

Clasping his hands together with the sound of wet flesh slapping together, the Sith lord had envisioned the virus taking shape. Litanies of darkness still poured from his mouth, tendrils of darkside energies sprouted from his spine only to dive deep into the very fabric of this creature's existence. Forcefully tearing his hands from each others grasp, the ear shattering scream echoed from between the wounded Reek's lips. It was then that the pathogen had become one with the animal's bloodstream. The beast convulsed and roared in pain as it spread through it's bloodstream, changing the very genetic structure that marked it as unique. It's blood began to curdle and thicken. The hemoglobin within darkened, turning to oil. Spreading quickly through the beasts cardiovascular system, it's veins became visible as the darkness began it's endeavor. The chitin skin began to harder, the scales bonding together and melting into plates of metal. The screams sounded less organic now as the reek was engulfed in magic forged steel. The metallic overlay became thick cords of wrought iron, replacing the muscle fibers that had given this beast it's grazing strength. The virus was the most feared forms of Sith sorcery ever unleashed upon the universe. Whomever it touched, it infected them with the pathogen. It was the bane of sentient life, it was the Technovirus. It was the most perverse irony ever to grace the galaxy, as mankind ascended to the heavens upon technological steeds and it would plummet because of it's carelessness. Defeated by their own creations, machines would become the masters of the universe, and then by proxy this Apostle would become a god in his own right. A throaty laughter bellowed from the Sith lord's cracked lips as he watched his sufferance take effect.

Second became minutes, and the life of the Reek was now forfeit. It's soul had been ripped from it's husk, in payment to the dark gods for the gift they had bestowed. Plated in metal, iron chords snaking through it's shell, and gruesome spikes replacing the ones of ivory. Replacing the ice blue eyes, common among these plains grazers, were a pair of red glimmering lights burning bright. Hydraulic steam hissed from it's clenched metallic teeth. This abomination was the steed that would trample this world underfoot. The unstoppable juggernaut of fury and metal, Arkania's doom made manifest. Releasing it's barely contained rage through it's chrome lips, the Technofiend roared in primordial hatred. Clenching it's teeth, the glowing crimson sockets focused upon it's master, the feral desire to kill echoing throughout it's now trans-mortal husk. With his laughter abated, the Sith lord bellowed his approval. A verse matched by the chorus of voices joining in. They had toiled for days to create this beast. Now they bore witness to the very symbol of their master's power. Surely he was already a god. Yet within the mind of this Sith, this Lord of pain. Ahriman was simply still flesh and bone.*
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Post Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:14 pm

Re: Adascopolis

While I could not see Arcanus' face, I could feel his scowl and slight annoyance at me through the force. I was being an choobies again. He already felt responsible enough and I was just compounding it, no doubt. My smile faded as my expression shifted to one of absolute seriousness, delicate features marred by the sobering reality that lay before us.

I could feel it. A ravenous hunger. My eyes were drawn towards the heart of Adascopolis. It was a familiar feeling. Frantic. Aberrant. Savage and feral. The dark side of the force.

Inhaling sharply as the shroud of darkness fogged my mind, I unconsciously took a step back, eyes remaining glued to the centre of the city. I was quick to encompass myself with a cloak of light, driving the darkness from my mind. Running my hands through my hair, I pulled it into a single braid that hung halfway down my back before my eyes darted over to Arcanus. Without even asking, I could tell that he felt it too and like I, was mentally preparing himself for whatever we were going to encounter.
"I have a bad feeling about this.." I breathed as the winds picked up around us, a sure sign that a storm was brewing on the horizon.

*Somehow, when I turned inside myself to escape, I found something there — power. The power not to be afraid of dying. The power not to die. The power to heal myself. And once I'd succeeded — the power to fight for the freedom of my people — and exact my revenge. I had always been taught that a Jedi is never supposed to seek revenge. My teachers had either been in denial or lying through their teeth. What else was there to do when all seemed lost?

Between the dead of night and the light of dawn futures unfold and stories are told. Between the whispers and the silence, bonds are created and lives are shattered, minds broken. Many would survive, but few would come out alive. What begins, ends. What is born, dies. All that is made can be un-made. Darkness has no meaning without the light, and for all living things there is the final silence...

Arcanus Sunstrider; the strider of suns. The Liberator. The Wayward Knight who refused to give ground or be struck down, he is one of two that take up the challenge. Arhiia Concordia, a heroine in her own right. An enigma that makes the workings of the universe itself appear easier to solve. Saving lives with her blade as well as her word. They take a stand together along the path of the hero's journey. One the light, another the dark. Anima. Animus. Two complementary forces sustaining the drive to save each other and those that surround them, neither coming out alive.*


"What the kriff is that?"

I whispered, blunt as ever in my speech. Arcanus and I had spent the better part of the past two hours making our way through Adascopolis. It was slow going since we avoided as many of the cultists as we possibly could, trying to draw less attention to ourselves. As soon as darkness had fallen across the decrepit remains of the city we were able move faster, but not by much due to the weather. Snow lightly began to dust the landscape as we progressed and quickly evolved into slick sheets of ice.

Resting my chin on folded hands, I crawled forward on my stomach to get a better view as I pulled out a pair of electrobinoculars we had come across while traversing the city. We found a partially collapsed building near the gathering of cultists and made ourselves at home atop what remained of the roof. My breath fogged in the air as I strained to see what was taking place far below us. One figure caught my eye, dressed in copper armour that glittered in what little light was present. He had assumed dominance in every facet of his interactions with the other cult members. He had to be the leader.

Turning my eyes back to the technobeasts, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully before I leaned closer to Arcanus and spoke softly.
"Have you ever seen anything like this? It's gotta be Sith Magic, I know that much, but the rest is beyond me..." I had never seen anything like this in my life and as I watched the cultists, I was both perplexed and unnerved by it all.

Several other beasts had risen from the ground since we had started observing the city square. Brushing a stray piece of white hair from my face, a shudder made its way down the length of my body, not from the cold, but from the sheer magnitude of the dark side energies that were building to a climax. We were only two and I wasn't quite sure how we were going to combat this. I had already checked earlier, but planetary communications were being jammed and monitored. There was no calling for backup this time.


"What do you think we should do?"

*They are as stars in the sky; numerous, but ancient. The light they offer was generations old when they first made themselves known. They burned out long ago, once shining brightly for all the universe to see. Only now do we see the darkness they will leave behind when all, but a few fade away under the influence of time...*
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Post Mon Oct 08, 2012 9:06 am

Re: Adascopolis

Violence Incarnate. The only words I could find to truly describe the technological terrors that were removing themselves from the ground. Arhiia and I had bore witness to the dark arts that had morphed and changed this beast into what it now was. She was just as shocked as I was, though in truth she was more vocal about it. Throughout my time as a Jedi, her company had meant the blunt and honest truth. Sure, she was an choobies. There was no doubts about that fact. But in a galaxy filled with secrets and lies, the brutal honesty was a welcome change. As my mind had tried to find the light at the end of the tunnel, it could not stop thinking of Arhiia. The darkness must be bringing the worst out in us both. I willingly admit that I had feelings for her, she gave me a new life in which I believe I have lived well. She turned me from my criminal roots and brought me into the fold of the Jedi Order.

Though it was fractured and scattered about the galaxy, I did not falter in the face of the seemingly victorious Sith factions. I was heralded as a Hero when I had freed Coruscant from it's deadlock. The system was plagued by war, changing hands literally day and night. The stories have stylized me fighting off wave after wave of Sith Soldiers at the precipice of the Temple steps. Though the climax was exaggerated grossly, the truth was not far off. I had fought at the lip of the temple stairs against an army of Sith Troopers, though I was not alone. Hundreds of weary Republic soldiers stood at my back and fought harder than any men I have seen before. I tolerated these lies, only because it boosted the morale of the men I aimed to serve and protect.

Here, such feats would be almost impossible. I could not live up to my own legend that I had let get out of control. I could not leap from this tall building and rush this dark cabal, nor could I see a way to destroy these beasts; forged by hatred and bound by metal. We were once again surrounded by enemies, cut off from support, and in a ruin looking out into the heart of darkness. It was like Anobis all over again. My tormented flesh had crawled in horror as my mind had sent ne back to those dark days. The Sith had made their counter offensive against our army of light's advance from the Core. Anobis was the home of the Emerald Jedi order, a major player in the unification talks between the shattered pieces of the Jedi order. Brutally assaulted and nearly wiped from the map, the forces of the Republic had finally arrived to counter invade. Flanking them with precision and cutting through the ranks. Yet we were out numbered; a factor of ten to one.

It was then, that I had broken my own spirit with the death of tens of thousands. A devastating strike from the orbital Republic fleet had torn into the city below. Buildings turned to slag. Flesh dissolved to ash. Lives had simply ended with nothing more than a whimper. Innocent and guilty alike had died that day, and it was that fact alone I could never atone for the sins I have wrought. I had essentially become a fallen Jedi from that point on, afflicted by depression my actions from there on in were less than exemplary. After settling upon an unsteady and unofficial ceasefire, the Jedi and Sith had turned tail and returned to their holdings. It gave us time to breathe, but the cost was far too high. Killing Sith, in a way was righteous. Killing an innocent life however, that goes against everything that we Jedi are. I couldn't cope and I've done many a terrible thing since then because of it.

Feeling the sting of a tear forming upon my scorched eyelid, I blinked the painful thoughts away and began to think as clearly as possible. We were now surrounded by the roving bands of cultists, flocking to their master to see the gift he would bestow upon them. They would be easy enough to cut down on our way to gather support, but then whose to say that this dark apostle figure would not garner more of these vile machines to his banner? They alone had the stench of sith magic; the greasy taste of ozone. Perhaps they were beings bound to this leader figure, thus if that was the case then it would be simple to scatter this cult to the wind. A surgical strike that knocked the head from the snake. It was the only option, we had to take the chance.


:: Darkness looms... :: A heavy mechanical breath ensues. :: We must strike at their leader... :: Koooo...paaaahhh... :: Strike the head of the snake... :: A laboured breath :: The body will wither and die... ::
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Post Mon Oct 08, 2012 6:51 pm

Re: Adascopolis

"Alright, we'll do this together then.."

My tone was a bit apprehensive, almost lackadaisical in nature. I didn't doubt that we couldn't get the job done together, just that we would come out of this one on the other side. Though if anyone could accomplish such a feat, it was Arcanus and I. Inhaling deeply, I hadn't even realized I had been holding my breath the whole time I was waiting for his answer and as my breath fogged the air once more, I put the electrobinoculars down between Arcanus and myself. Bowing my head and placing it in my hands, I squeezed my eyes shut as I ran my hands through my hair, balling them up into fists.

*When we take our oaths upon becoming Jedi, we pledge to protect the galaxy from all that is insidious and evil. Even at the cost of our own lives. Once you become a Jedi your life will never be your own again and that which remains will forever be devoted to people that are absolute strangers to us, but still we must push on. We are urged to push on. The Force beckons us with her call to duty and sometimes to heed the call, one must forsake everything they ever knew or loved. . .*

And that was when it hit me, I was angry.

I hadn't even realized it at first, but now I was completely aware. When I first sent a comm to Arcanus, beckoning him to Arkania, I had imagined we would go gallivanting around the planet poking fun at the Jedi Order and catching up on one another's lives. He was quite possibly my oldest and dearest friend. While our friendship started with him trying to kill me, it had blossomed into so much more, and at one point in time I had even entertained the thought of us becoming romantically involved. So much had happened since the last time we spoke and now I was pissed off that these cultists had ruined the time I had planned to spend with my best friend.

I had received intensive training, but nothing ever prepared me for this. Was there a class I had missed taking back in the temple of The Emerald Order on Anobis? What to do when clinically insane Sith cultists take over your planet and outnumber you 10 to 1. So instead I open my eyes, swallow against the sickness inside and inch back from the ledge, turning over on my back to look up at the night sky. I must take this helpless, blinding fury and turn it into resolve as I was taught to do. I will survive. Arcanus will survive and I will see my enemy surrender. . . The anger slowly gave way to confidence.


*Looking up at the stars twinkling in the sky, remembering the light of the morning sun as it rushed across the landscape of Coruscant, what was left of it anyways. Scores of wars over the years had caused the jewel of the core to deteriorate to the point where it wasn't just the lower levels that stunk of death and decay. It was where my friendship with Arcanus had begun, but that was not the particular war that first came to mind.

Representing the whole of the New Republic, my hand had been forced. Our armies and navies had over extended their reach and we faced insurmountable casualties; the Jedi Temple had been sacked and the Iron Fists were threatening to further level the planet.

For one split second the fate of Coruscant and its people had rested atop my shoulders, a weight that no one should have ever been made to bear. My hand had been forced, our people were dying. A choice was laid before me: sign the treaty and be allowed to evacuate all who wished to leave or refuse and watch the planet burn. As a Jedi, that was one of the hardest decisions of my life.*


Sitting up and crossing my legs, I smoothed my robes out then clasped my hands together and held them to my mouth, blowing into them in attempts to warm up a bit. Even I was beginning to feel chilled out here in the snow fall.

That was when I felt it.

Whumpf. Whumpf. Whumpf. It was like thunder without a sound, reverberating in my chest and echoing in my mind. Icy blue eyes widened, I turned my head to the sky and spoke in hushed tones to Arcanus.


"Wait..." I held my hand out and gestured towards him, emphasizing my words in the process. "My dragons.." I murmured as my eyes remained fixated on the sky, scanning it in hopes of stealing a glimpse of their glittering scales against the night sky. I knew I wouldn't be able to see them, since they were circling the upper atmosphere, but it didn't keep me from hoping. Not even the Sith would be able to sense them at that height, which would work to our advantage.

*Those dragons were the life and blood of Arkania and stood as a reminder of one of the tragic lessons that accompanied the title of Jedi. By nature Jedi are trained, first and foremost, to always seek a diplomatic solution to the conflicts they encounter. Such a pacifist nature is what creates armies, inspires bystanders to take up arms, and destroys lives. Our masters always tell us that the life of a Jedi is filled with sacrifice and normally that is defined by the Jedi sacrificing their life.

What they don't tell you is that it also means the sacrifice of the lives of those that choose to surround you, those that you inspire to bear arms and join your cause..*


Standing to my feet, I wrap my arms around myself, continuing to rub my hands together and then turn my gaze to Arcanus. "Be ready to move. And fast." Eyes glittering like embers amongst the ruins of a long forgotten fire, I begin to mentally steel myself against the darkness. It would do us no favour if the Sith know we are coming. "Take point and head straight for their leader, I'll provide the distraction and firepower.." Grinning like a Nexu, I take a deep breath and touch minds with both of my dragons. They are semi-sentient creatures enhanced with cybernetics, so touching minds with them is both a jolting and enthralling experience.

Without the darkness, the light has no meaning. Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.
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Post Wed Oct 17, 2012 6:27 pm

Re: Adascopolis

I had never truly knew the meaning of fear. My arm stuck down thousands of slaves to the darkness, butchering them all in the name of the light. I stood before the Jedi temple, repulsed the horde of crazed flesh and bone. I marched alone against the leviathan, weapon in hand. All I have done, I was absent of terror's embrace. I knew no fear, for I was invincible. Then the balance had tipped and I was encased within the iron lung. My luck had run dry, and as a result I felt nothing but pain. I hated this, I wanted to be free of this suit. To feel invincible. To feel whole. This iron lung had made me nothing more than a machine that could think, that could move, and become a conduit for the force's will. My seared flesh meant nothing to the cruel laughter of the gods and the predetermined weave of fate. I was but a pawn upon the board, moved against my will and easily taken out of play with a simple change of positions.

My head swam with such thoughts, as I stared out into the swirling storm of madness embroiling before us. This was suicide, I knew only thus about the situation at hand. I've thrown myself onto the anvil of war a plethora of times, each attempt to give my life willingly to death's cold embrace ended in failure. As each time I was counted among the living. I had the hope that my actions would one day change the galaxy for the better. Yet as I was cast down from my own form, the noxious weed of doubt had planted it's seeds. I began to doubt myself and my actions, everything my hands had ever forged was critically judged in error. Every life I had taken, was viewed behind a veil of regret. Despair had gripped my heart tightly and refuted to withdraw.

When I had awoken within this damned suit, I saw nothing but darkness about me. With a fury uncontrolled, I had slain the good natured doctor whom desired to save my wretched life. I had cut the threads of life to those around him, nurturing the blood-lust that had bubbled to the surface. As the red haze faded, that was when the taint had spread. Taking hold of my condemned form, I was struck by grief. At that moment I had regretted what I had done, for he had committed his life to save mine and did not live to see his work complete. He was a better Jedi than I. Sylas was a great man, his wife was destined for great things too. Yet I now could only assume she would grieve, the blight unleashed by my own hands, ruining all that she desired.

As my mind dragged itself from the darkness of reverie, I knew what had to be done. I would aspire to follow through with the good Doctor's example. I would commit myself to the righteous cause of the light, sacrifice myself to redeem the horrors I had inflicted upon the universe and rid my fore-bearers of this evil taint. A faint glimmer of hope had simmered in my stomach, emboldening me to my purpose. Though I had sought to become a true Jedi in life, I would achieve what I could not as my body was laid to rest. I would bear the word of ashla to these unbelievers until my last breath, and as it was slipping through my lips, it would be laced with defiance. I would stand firm until I could stand no longer. I would fight until the drive had been stricken from my soul. If I was to meet my end here upon the crimson snow of Arkania, it would be such an end that hearts would will with pride knowing that one man can stand when others will falter.

Turning my visor upon the beasts below, I felt a moment of revulsion creep through my damaged spine. These beasts were the scions of the primordial annihilator. The hounds of chaos, and the twisted technological marvels of the darkness. They were everything evil personified. Bound together by plates of metal and filled with the hateful souls of the fallen, I felt no remorse. They were my worst nightmare, brought from the behind the veil of the immaterium and belched into reality. I felt no terror from bestowing these creatures with my furious gaze, they were everything I hated in this life. That alone earned them nothing more than my wrath. Like all arrayed before me, they would be sent into the shrouded realm of chaos, screaming my name with oaths of vengeance. I could feel the red haze return, and this time it was of my own design.


    *His suit laboured to keep up with his rising heart rate. His breathing was heavy, short, and taken with haste. An aura of rage began to shine brightly, it was pure and primal. It was the sigil of his sentience, for anger was the truest of all mankind's emotions. Anger was hard to emulate without being affected by it's infectious caress, for it cared not for the cunning of life or the deception of shadows and secrets. Rage is what fueled a man to defend his farm and family, it strengthened a soldier upon the crucible of war to rise to the occasion, and it fueled the passions of life itself. Through anger, a measure of peace could be bought. With this galaxy in flames, peace was nothing more than a flickering memory. The very thought of peace was to be considered nothing more than a ceasefire between to bitter rivals, as some where else anger had befallen upon another mortal being and brought vindication upon his soul. Peace, as the Sith had put it, was truly a lie and the living were fools to believe it was the truth.

    The silent sound of pneumatic gears and hydraulic servos clicking into place, had caused his hands to clench tightly about his pilfered weapon. The humming maroon blade, bathing the area about his feet in it's light, was activated with a swift depression of his thumb. Heralded by the signature snap-hiss, Arcanus lifted the blade aloft. Above his head and pointed skyward, the wayward knight stared out into the storm. He would unleash his hatred, and willingly die in the process, if it meant that this world would be saved. To symbolize his triumph he would be like a dying star. As it's life had come to an end, it would explode, rippling across thousands of light years effecting all within it's path. When he would feel his crude flesh wither, he would become the catalyst for the forces of light. He was the stigmartyr of ashla! He had foreseen this future unfold, and he would willing go to his death.

    If only he had seen the truth behind the ever changing flow of the force, then his noble act would cease and the fear that he had been blind too all of his life, would return and claim his life for it's own. If only the secrets of the hydrae were so foolish, he would not have done what he was about to do. Then perhaps, the galaxy might have had a chance.*

With my blade arcing down towards the ruin's deck, I had leaned forward. With a quick dip of my hips, my wretched form was falling through the air. With the silent metallic groan of servos and gears I had stood to my full height and glared at the heretics before me. How dare they turn their back from the light of the Republic. How dare they betray me. My fury would become unleashed, and the red haze that had engulfed my iris would be the only thing I'd see. Blood shall soak the snow, and through it's spillage, Arkania's freedom would be bought. Giving into my primal nature, I surged forth into the horde of cultists. Crimson arcs of light severing limbs and lives. My suit howled my rage through it's voxcaster, the mechanical sound matching the screams of delight of these techno abominations.

I had become ashla's avatar of war.
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Post Fri Nov 02, 2012 6:42 pm

Re: Adascopolis

*As Taung approached Adascopolis on his borrowed, cobbled together speeder, the feeling of unease and years of training and experience were confirming what his feelings were telling him. Something was wrong in Adascopolis. Not wrong like there was a trap, but just plain wrong, in a creepy, watch over your shoulder kind of way. He brought his speeder to a stop off the main roadway into some snow covered rocks and climbed up on one to examine the city in more detail through his armor's electrobinoculars.

His first impression was quiet. Too quiet for a city, almost as if it were abandoned, but that wasnt right either. There were fires burning in places, but it didnt appear that there were battles or riots happening, the comm channels seemed mysteriously quiet, those that were active, were very active. Something about mechanical dead, others talked about spread and containment. Not being in on the original conversation it sounded to him almost like a droid virus perhaps. No matter what happened, confusion was his ally...but the comforting confusion that would allow him to disappear more completely...did nothing to stave off the feeling of wrongness that seemed to seep from the city.

He shook his head. That city was the most likely way for him to get off the planet. Whether it felt wrong or not, he was going to have to go in. He checked his Imperial Heavy Repeater once more to make sure it was loaded and climbed back on the speeder, carefully guiding it out from its concealment. Carefully he throttled up, and moved into the outer reaches of the city, heading for the starport.*
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Post Sun Nov 04, 2012 1:53 pm

Re: Adascopolis

Pausing a moment, I impassively watched as Arcanus disappeared over the ledge of the building and dropped into a kneeling position in order to peer over the side. Satisfied, I closed my eyes and rekindled the connection between myself and the two Arkanian Dragons circling overhead. Blindly reaching out, I held fast to the ledge of the building as if to anchor myself within this reality before diving in.

*It was such a rush, a horde of sensory input information all streaming in at once. It almost made me forget I was Arkanian, not dragon. I could feel his agitation...his hunger.. It was now my agitation, my hunger. His territorial instincts came to the forefront as I gently directed his mind towards the cultists gathering in the city square. It felt as if a violent storm were brewing in the very centre of my being and it took everything within me to retain control. I stoked the fire as the dragons began their descent and directed their unbridled rage. When I was certain the pair would act upon my suggestions, I severed the connection before I lost myself..*

Inhaling sharply as I was forced back into my flesh and blood body far below, I blinked rapidly as the world regained focus. Such a surge of force power would no doubt go unnoticed by the cultists below, so I knew moving from my current position would be pertinent to my survival. Throwing all caution to the wind, I dropped over the side of the dilapidated building that had served as our momentary base of operations and as soon as my feet hit the ground, the city square was suddenly alight with fire as my pair of Arkanian Dragons swooped down from the sky.

Like white bullets, they hurdled through the cultists taking them out left and right, creating a firestorm before concentrating on the technobeasts. Suddenly the world erupted in chaos. Yet it was as silent as ever. The roaring of the walls of fire that had been sown around the city square seemed to drown out all of the blood curdling screams of the cultists as they burned alive. The air quickly became laden with the smell of burning flesh.

Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I drew my sabrestaff and depressed the activation switch as the blades sprung to life with their characteristic snap-hiss. My midnight blue robes were bathed in a pale white light as I picked my way through the city square.

Something primal stirred within me and my blue skin prickled with goosebumps. A light dusting of snow continued to fall from the sky, melting before it even reached the ground and that already on the ground was quickly becoming stained with crimson. I looked about as lightning flashed high in the sky overhead and the backdrop was accented with the occasional roar of one of the dragons. I was searching in vain for Arcanus, but I seemed to have lost track of him after I descended to the ground. Head on the swivel, I continued scanning the scene before me -- though I knew it was useless and incredibly likely that I would not find him in this mess -- I had to get to higher ground.


~ Sithspit! Sithspit! Where is he? What the kriff happened to doing this together?! ~

Gritting my teeth, my face set in a scowl; I bounded up the nearest pile of rubble and deactivated my sabrestaff before taking a running jump onto the exposed pipe system that attached to one of the buildings which ran adjacent to the city square. The pipes barely swayed beneath my weight as I found my centre of balance atop them. Logic told me that I could use the pipe system to skirt around the edges of the city centre in order to reach the dais where I had last laid eyes on the cultists' leader. Even without Arcanus by my side, I knew I had to stick to the plan we made before all hell broke loose. I was high enough above the ground that I wouldn't attract attention if I was quiet and could evade being torched by one of my dragons in the process.

Light on my feet, I strode along like the graceful Coruscani dancers I used to love to watch when I was younger. It seemed my gymnastics training was finally finding some use here. Halting my progress for a moment, I surveyed the pipe work in front of me -- the pipe dropped off and ran vertical for a while before resuming its horizontal course along the duracrete wall about 45 feet away from me.

No problem.

Taking a running start, I launched myself off one end of the pipe and sailed halfway across the opening before catching a smaller pipe jutting from the wall, flipping around it like a trapeze before tucking my body into a flip and landing on the continuation of the pipe system.


"Sweet mother of chaos..." I whispered to myself as I straightened and released the breath I had unknowingly been holding all along. "I really am getting too old for this.."

Resuming my mission along the pipe system, I finally came in sight of the dais where the leader of the cultists stood. Apparently or seemingly alone. I stopped to crouch and survey the situation, looking around for Arcanus again -- not finding him once more. Biting the inside of my cheek, I stroked my chin thoughtfully before deciding on a course of action. Unhooking my saberstaff, I unexpectedly dropped down from the pipe system and landed on the dais in a crouch, facing the leader.

Slowly I rose to my full height, icy blue eyes set upon him in a piercing gaze. Armour of glittering copper, sapphire, and silver coalescing to form what would appear to most, an opposing figure. The look of amusement reflecting in his worn emerald green eyes taunted me and though I could not see his lips, his smirk rose to touch his eyes -- mocking me. I stood poised -- statuesque -- empowered by my confidence and driven by the pain I felt seeping into the Force around me. Auras clashing within the force, almost visibly; the air around us rose in temperature and crackled with power.

This was the dance of a predator and its prey.

Though it was not yet clear which was which. Muscles tensing in anticipation, I felt everything that he was in this moment, everything that he would be; I did not recognise him nor his intentions. He felt foreign to me and commanding in nature; not an authority I recognised. Wary of my movements, cautious of his oppression, I stood out of his reach. Idly flipping my deactivated sabrestaff in my left hand, I began to pace a wide circle around him. He reeked of the dark side and while I was a Jedi, first and foremost, I had since decided there would be no second chances tonight. There would be no mercy.

Lightning flashed far overhead, lighting the landscape around us before returning us to the darkness' embrace. My train of thought was derailed as several cultists seemingly appeared out of nowhere, walking to stand between myself and their leader as the lightning illuminated their forms. I was nearly blinded each and every time the lightning struck, so I was forced to rely upon the Force in order to ascertain the positions of my enemies. A lopsided grin slowly traced its way across my lips as I sunk down into a defensive stance and dared the cultists to give it their best shot.

He thought I was overconfident, it didn't need to be said for me to be able to feel the cultist leader's thoughts permeate through the Force. I would show him overconfidence. A brief flash of light revealed that the cultists had spread out to surround me on all sides and the first two charged me the moment the darkness settled in.

All too easy.

The man running straight at my front was the first to reach me; I ducked a right hook, sidestepped a swipe of his crimson sabre before quickly turning 180 degrees to meet the woman attempting to take me by surprise from behind, and drove my elbow into the bridge of her nose before briefly igniting one of the brilliant white blades of my sabre to cut straight through her midsection. Hardly turning an inch, I directed a force push towards the other cultist and launched him into a wall of fire. The screams of a dying man hardly phased me and I did not miss a step. Two more cultists charged in from my right side, so I entangled the Force around the man I had just tossed into the fire and propelled his flaming corpse into his two comrades. One caught on fire and spent his final moments writhing on the ground as the skin peeled and evaporated from his skeleton. The other shrugged off his robes and tossed his lightsabre in my direction, a crimson arc tracing its way through the air. I tucked into a roll and dived out of the way though the sabre seemed to spin wide of me. Shoddy aim, I thought. It was a matter of a second after I regained my footing when an explosion sent me flying across the length of the dais, skidding and wildly rolling off the edge and out into the chaos of the city square. There were a few barrels of flammable biomedical waste in the background that I had carelessly missed during my survey of the area.

My battered body finally came to a stop and I struggled to pick myself up as I heard the footsteps of the cultist fast approaching. Rolling over, I used the Force to grab a piece of debris from the fires that surrounded me on all sides and as he cleared the fiery wall of my sanctuary, I lobbed the debris at him and sent him back into the fire.

This was getting ridiculous. I should have sensed his intentions. The dark side was overpowering here, but surely it couldn't completely blot out the light, could it?


*Where Arcanus saw only darkness and suffering, Arhiia knew somewhere the light of hope was still burning. This was not a suicide mission and she would not willingly surrender her own life. She dreamt the impossible, that they would survive this together and even were that not the case, then there would only be others to take up the mantle and continue in their places. Arkania would not be lost. She would not allow it. She would not allow her best friend to sacrifice himself either.

Perhaps this was why the Jedi had always cautioned against attachment..*
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Post Wed Nov 07, 2012 6:30 pm

Re: Adascopolis

*Taung moved further into the outskirts of the city, his eyes seemed to be scanning as much as his sensor systems. The quietness on the street had nothing to do with the cold snowy weather, the local populace was used to such weather...it was always like this. The streets were simply too quiet. The low temperatures likewise had nothing to do with the feeling of cold that ran down his spine and made him edgy. Occasionally he passed speeders that were overturned, some of them had gouges ripped out of them like a blade had sliced or been punched into them. Others were burning or simply crashed into buildings or each other, others simply sat clogged up. He considered increasing the power to the repulsors so he could simply go over, but he doubted that the power cells had enough juice left to move him far at altitude, besides, a running speeder bike was just a homing beacon that screamed for attention. He frowned at that thought, but stopped the bike and climbed off. Checking the power levels on his armor he had about six hours of full power left, the extended time remaining cloaked was really eating into power reserves that would normally power other systems at a fraction of the energy usage, even with weapons and shields running.

Six hours to find a craft and get off this place. Something told him to hurry. He knew what it was, but not what it was. He didnt like not knowing what made him uneasy. He hadnt delved into the Force much in a long time, but he could feel it here. Something cold and dark, great pain and panic was making him edgy. It didnt feel like pain and panic of battle, it felt tainted somehow, like something not natural had driven the panic that he could feel. He glanced one way expecting to see something, then looked in another expecting something to be there as well. Nothing. He shook his head and started moving. He wasnt far from the main spaceport, having circled part of the city to be physically closer to his destination, unfortunately, that was also where a stronger feeling of panic seemed to come from. Not current panic really, but a feeling that the panic had already taken place. Never a good sign in his estimation. Glancing over his shoulder one more time, despite the 360 degree field of view his armor allowed him, he set off, his boots crunching lightly in the snow.

It took him 2 long hours to get to the starport, and the scene that greeted him was what he would have imagined mass panic to look like. Speeders were smashed and crashed, black smoke seemed to tear gruesome holes in the white snowscape, starships lay broken, others had crashed. There were bodies, lots of bodies. He didnt see much signs of ranged weapons, mostly it appeared to be edged weapons that had done the damage. He could see where other survivors, or bodies had been pulled away, the snow still bright with blood, the staggered footsteps that trampled over the other more orderly footsteps showed who was wounded, and there were lots of wounded at the end.

Keeping his weapon at the ready he moved carefully in amongst the docks, looking for a serviceable ship that would have hyperdrive capability. He couldnt count on military starfighters, those would have extra encrypts and likely all be destroyed anyway. He found a likely ship, a Lambda class shuttle, the things were so ubiquitious that one could likely trust to find one just about anywhere. That beat the fifteen broken or burning ships that he had passed already, not counting the empty bays that he had stopped counting some time ago.

He moved to the ship and looked it over, it didnt appear damaged except for one mark on one landing strut. He started to walk up the ramp after one last quick look around, his boots making a slight thump on the metal. With an electronic squeal something shuffled in the darkness of the shuttles interior. Taung brought his weapon up and froze, the Imperial Heavy Repeater wasnt the thing to be using inside an escape vessel, but it was guaranteed to stop just about anything. Part of that problem was that it would also likely destroy a good portion of the interior of the shuttle that he needed to escape in. He took a careful step back, then another, ensuring that his footfalls were silent before stepping around the landing ramp of the shuttle and out of sight. He knelt down and picked up a hydrospanner from a toolbench and flung it towards a set of barrels.

The harsh sudden sound had instant results, squealing and snarling a...beast...of scrambled out of the shuttle. He didnt get a good look at it, but then he didnt need to to know that it needed to die whatever it was. He saw that it was humanoid, but it looked like it was made half of metal and half organic material with a large bladed for one forearm and a giant spike for the other. He twisted as the technobeast rushed towards the sound, in a circle path from where he was standing, he simply lined up the sights on the head and squeezed the trigger. The weapon sang in his hands and brilliant bolts of solid material leapt out and seemed to rip the head apart. The beast dropped as if it had its power supply cut, crashing to the floor uncontrolled and limp, its metal parts scratching the duracrete floor and its organic parts leaving lines of red blood. He paused for a moment, the harsh sound of the weapons echo seemed to ache in the still air. Taung quickly took some detailed holos and scans and rushed into the cockpit, not trusting that the sound of weapons fire wouldnt draw more of those...things to where he was. Besides some damage to some non critical systems, everything seemed more or less intact. With a few quick pushes of buttons the controls lit up with a reassuring glow and Taung quickly began a preflight sequence. Movement in front of him made him glance up from his task. If the weapons fire hadnt brought a reaction, the sound of engines starting up certainly had. One of the mechanical monsters was moving around the end of the bay door, quickly followed by more. Moving quickly he applied power to the repulsors and shut the landing ramp, looking over his shoulder to make sure everything was clear.

It wasnt until he reached vacuum and did a complete scan that he started to relax.*
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Post Thu Dec 20, 2012 6:49 pm

Re: Of Martyrs and Monsters.

Arcanus Sunstrider
Hero of Coruscant, Butcher of Anobis.

*Death. Though Arcanus did not desire to court it's embrace, his foolish headstrong charge into the mass of flesh and bone before him took him down that path. It was too late for him now, to turn and flee to safety. He was committed. His suit's auto-senses prowled through those arrayed before him, their forms outlined in a yellowish hue. Targeting reticules appeared over several of the closest cultists, his armour deeming them the most dangerous of threats. Inhaling deeply, the Wayward knight surged forth into the melee - his pilfered lightsaber singing hungrily. The crimson blade arced through the air, hissing with a barely contained rage as it brought about its new masters wrath. The smell of scorched fabric and cindered flesh hung heavily in the air, after several corpses dotted the freshly fallen snowscape.

His heart was cloven in two at his honoured crews betrayal, for there was no words to describe the horrors of treachery that had befallen him. It all started with the death of his wife, a friend turned foe and a blade carving the throat. He endured what no man should, as he watched the fallen son of the Order open her neck for him to see. Arcanus was helpless to act, bounded and gagged, alone and unarmed. His silent screams fell upon deaf ears as her life bubbled away before him. It was in that lesson - the hardest of any to come - that Arcanus understood the disassociation the Jedi had made with attachments. The loss, bore heavily upon his heart after the attack. His mind was fractured and the seed of darkness had implanted itself in the cracks. The wayward knight became more radical after the death of his loved one, willing to put the lives of thousands at risk in order to route out a single whisper of the Sith.

In one of those moments, he had birthed an evil that would set the galaxy aflame. And for that action alone, he would finally be pushed over the edge. Anobis was alight with fire and smoke, cries of agony echoed throughout the capital's streets. Destruction was all about him, and normally he would reveled in the chaos - considering the damage an acceptable loss in the long run. But, something was different. He felt as if a veil was lifted from his eyes and the same sorrow that had gripped his heart upon the death of Kiana, when his eyes prowled the devastated landscape. What he believed to be his inner voice, later manifesting itself as his most trusted source of clarity, manifested in that moment. It called him a monster for the horrendous act he had committed, and Arcanus grudgingly agreed.

He was a Jedi no longer, and he was fooling himself in carrying the title.

Blinking the iron grip of despair from his mind, the ebony clad warrior's conscious returned to the battle at hand. His singed flesh stung with the heat of tears, freshly fallen at the memory. Exasperated breaths surged forth from his lips, despite the straining of his suit to calm his laboured breathing. Arcanus' fingers tightened about the grip of the pilfered weapon, the augmentation cracking the outer casing. All the sorrow, all the rage, everything flowed through his system as the fueled the building bloodlust. The sound of a primal growl resounded in the back of his throat, roaring over his suit's voxcaster. His anger soared and the telltale sound of cracking metal echoed in his aural amplifiers, signifying that his newly acquired weapon had shattered under his bionics grip.

Uncaring, he surged forwards and grabbed the nearest cultist by the throat. Several microservos spun into place and the metallic fingers crushed the screaming zealots windpipe. Blaster weapons discharged all about the ebony clad warrior as he tossed the lifeless corpse to the ground, several marks of carbon scoring stood out amidst the midnight hue of his armour. In kind, small plates upon his forearm folded back to reveal a twin blaster laying beneath his augmented flesh. Snapping into place, Arcanus open fired. His damaged eyes flickered between targets as his suit feed him the calculations. Each salvo brought a fanatic to the ground, their bodies filled with smoking holes. As his charge ran dry, the weapon retreated into his arm and the small plates reforged the dark visage of his arm.

As more bolts tore through his clothing, Arcanus could feel the concoction of stims and adrenaline mix. His body trembled in delight as he felt the liquid surge through his veins. The bolts dissipated against his armourweave fabric and tore through the cape that donned his shoulders. He stood in the spitting image of Darth Vader, his rage causing everything he saw to fade to red. Another feral scream bubbled from his lips as the last of his sanity had slipped away, Arkania would be the death of him in one way or another. He was to die here, it was a fact he knew in both his blood and mind. There was no escape, only the last moments before his pillar of light faded from the universe all together. If this was to be his end, he mused, he would make it such an end that it would be worthy of remembrance.

His glazed eyes were drawn to the altar and the man that stop atop it. Though the colours of the robes he wore we clear, Arcanus saw nothing but the hateful hue of crimson. His legs pistoned into action as he charged towards the circle of offering, his mind settled upon a singular purpose. He would kill everyone and everything to abate his rage, and this man, this Dark apostle would be the first of many. It was then that something caught his attention, a glint of beaten copper out of the corner of his eye. Turning to see a fist fill his vision, Arcanus was forced back with the blow shattering the metal encasing his wounded head. His neck snapped backwards as the momentum carried him from his feet. The icy kiss of winter fell upon his burned flesh, though drugged beyond recollection that was the most painful experience he had endured since being interned.

The red haze that took hold of the wayward knight's vision faded to darkness, at the tune of familiar laughter.*


_____________________________________________________________________________

Lord Ahriman
The Fateweaver.

*Everything was unfolding according to his design. Every piece upon the table was moving in tandem to his will. The zealots in his service died in droves either by the hands of the monsters he had created or by the machinations of Arkania's defenders. The beasts he had forged from the mere essence of the primordial annihilator, rampaged throughout the city spreading it's noxious infection like a disease. Even his coven about him had begun taming the wild mechanical beasts, focusing upon the shred of sentience that remained within. He was alone atop the summoning circle, and had nothing save nature's wrath to keep him company. Atop the parapet, his eyes prowled over all that occurred before him, and as they did so his lips curled into a cruel smile. Bedecked in sapphire and brass, Lord Ahriman stood above them all - as was befitting a Lord of the Sith. The storm tugged at his robe, causing its tails to flicker in the wind.

This is what he lived for, moments in which he had seen his plans come to fruition. Where the screams of the dead and dying had brought his senses to another level of pleasure. He closed his eyes, reveling in the chaos his worshipers and the warp spawned beasts were creating. It was then that his eyes shot open, an unexpected piece surged onto the gameboard. A pair of dragons had come from no where, and spat fire upon his cult. This was an interesting turn of events, he mused as his helm tilted back. He wondered what it would be like to ride one of these magnificent beasts, to stride amongst the stars upon wings of flesh and blood. Though he knew it would not be upon these two beasts, for they were no doubt vassals to Lady Concordia's will, and would kill him should he take a careless step in their direction. However, his eyes darted to the massacre below and fell upon one of his technofiends and his cruel smile faded into a malicious sneer.

With a grunt of effort, he forced his mind free of it's physical shell. Tendrils of his soul eagerly clung to his corporal form as his mind raced towards the beast bound by metal and magic. Wrapping himself intimately around it's mind, drastically changed by it's transformation, Ahriman found what could once be considered the reek's central cortex. Once inside, he turned the beasts gaze skyward. With a feral mechanical growl informing it's master that it graciously accepted it's commands, he withdrew to the safety of his crude flesh. Rolling his eyes to rid himself of his disorientation, the Sith Lord watched with renewed interest as the Technofiend roared with a primal fury. He had ensured that this beast thought of the dragon as an affront to everything it had every known, and as the moment of raw fury had passed the beast took off. Technobeasts and Cultists alike were thrown from their feet as it trampled it's way to the nearest building. It's claws pushed off the duracrete and imbedded themselves into the steel framework of tower. Using it's digits, the metal clad beast climbed to the building's summit and waited.

As one of the dragons had swooped past, the daemon beast made it's move. Vaulting from the roof top and seeking to bring the dragon down.

Ahriman snorted in approval, as his gaze was drawn towards the melee before him. The rapport of a dual linked blaster resounded in his ears, and it's bearer was the subject of his interest. Nothing else matter now, for the strider of suns had shown his face. His trap had worked, and now it was time to close the maw that had swallowed them all. Issuing a command to his most favoured acolyte, the Sith lord watched as Arcanus had torn through his ranks. He did not want to see this Jedi dead, at least not yet. Had he wanted him dead, Ahriman would've struck when the wayward knight was bound by steel atop a medical slab. Drifting back - Ahriman remembered the smell of sterile antiseptics and the stench of scorched flesh. Within that cramped room he watched the Arkanian doctor, Sylas was his name, perform a miracle. Necrotic flesh piled in the corner and glistening bionics attached to the Strider's wounded form, signaled that Sylas was finished with phase one. Phase two had shaped Arcanus to Ahriman's design, the spitting image of Darth Vader brought to life by the Galactic Republic, the irony.

When he had awoke, there was something in the wayward knight's mind that snapped. Many assumed the augmentations did not hold true to Sylas promise, but I and I alone knew the truth. I had constantly fed Arcanus images of his dead wife calling him a monster, and when he awoke the anger that his form had barely contained exploded outwards. I had vanished before his rage had escalated, but as I walked away I could hear the screams of those that I shared a room with, just moments before. The doctor and many high ranking officials died that day, and it was a blow that the Republic barely recovered from. Now, seeing him react the same way as he had back then, it brought a smile of pride to my lips.

As Varro had subdued the Strider of Suns, Ahriman's attentions fell upon Arhiia Concordia, this world's Queen. Her lithe figure had a feral charm to it's albino hue, and he felt the cringe of desire building at the back of his throat. For some reason, his aging body had trembled beneath the cloak about his shoulders, eager to force her into his embrace. Yet as he felt her aura, that feeling of desire transformed into disgust. Though she was the beauty of winter personified, Ahriman could not help but hate her for what she was. Perhaps if he had bound her petite figure in irons and stripped her of her Jedi garments, maybe then the feeling of revulsion would fade.*


"Lady Concordia!" *He cried, his voice cutting through the chaos about him.* "Do you like what I've done with your world?" *A coarse laughter emanated from his dry lips, barely audible above the din of battle.* "You can not hope to stop a demi-god, Arii." *He said sensually, the words being carried upon the wind and fell upon it's target with a lovers caress.* "Submit, and Arkania will be spared!"

*His laughter faltered as he felt the weakness from before overtake his limbs. Taking a mouthful of chilled air, Ahriman's gaze fell to a Cultist that had dared to climb his altar. Irritation filled his thoughts as he extended a hand and feed upon his life's essence. The man aged a thousand years in the blink of an eye, and Ahriman felt rejuvenated. The now ancient corpse fell from the parapet into the chaos below, and with that he turned towards the Arkanian Queen once more.*

"What say you Ice Queen?!"
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Post Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:51 pm

Re: Adascopolis

It had been decreed: there would be no mercy. There would be no second chances.

In the chaos of it all, I recognized the look of triumph reflecting within the eyes of the man I opposed. Though we were separated by several metres, it was unmistakable -- my eyes followed the path Ahriman's gaze etched through the darkness as fires flickered within the central square, shadows dancing across the walls -- unintelligible forms coalescing into figures like those of a spectre in the dead of night. I was mystified as my eyes darted through the darkness, briefly taking this respite in action to catch my breath -- the cool air felt harsh within my lungs, like taking in handfuls of sand with every ragged breath I drew. It was an unpleasant sensation.

Then I saw what he had been watching. Arcanus! I wanted to cry out to him, but my voice was lost within my throat and I was filled with despair as our predicament became increasingly clearer. I could not see with my own eyes that life still inhabited his body, but I could feel his life burning within the force -- burning a hateful hue of crimson. Anger would always be your downfall, dear Arcanus and Anobis learned me my lesson. Just that he was alive meant that we still had a chance. A flash of copper by Arcanus' prone body caught my eye, it was the other cultist that had stood out to me before.

Narrowing my eyes in exasperation, I was torn between my mission objective and coming to the rescue of a dear friend. What would Arcanus do? He would complete the objective -- taking out the cultist leader. But I could not resign myself to such narrow minded thinking. Perhaps it was folly on my part, but I was bound and determined to get both he and I out of this one alive. Alas, with that determination came a gut feeling, a macabre and foreboding feeling that this would be our last adventure together. Neither would live to see the next dawn, but only one would survive.

Slowly pushing myself up off the ground, I listened to Ahriman gloating over his destruction of my home planet and all I could do was laugh. Laugh? Surely I was going mad.
"Submit? If you think I will submit, then you truly are delusional." I boldly stated as I looked up from where I was currently sprawled across the ground before continuing to laugh. "But in case you failed to notice, it is no longer my place to speak for Arkania. I believe you already killed the man I installed in the wake of my resignation as the governing body of this planet."

Pulling myself completely off of the ground, I could now see the way that he was looking at me, hungry with a familiar desire within his eyes. I averted my gaze and did not look at Ahriman, so that I could give off no telltale discomfort. I was caught off guard. It had been quite some time since I had last faced a Sith Lord and thus had briefly forgotten how overbearing they could be. As long as I stayed alive, I would have the upper hand. Slowly blinking my eyes as the cool breeze washed over me, flushing my skin with a full-bodied rosy glow, I reached up to brush my hair away as Ahriman's words fell upon my ears. There was something harmonic -- hypnotizing even -- about his voice as it reached my conscious and gave me pause. It took me a moment to shake the unease off as I indignantly ripped the remains of my outer robes from my shoulders and discarded the midnight blue material, singed and stained with blood, the breeze carrying the fabric a few feet to my left.

Nonchalantly brushing myself off, I threw my hand out and called my saberstaff to hand, clipping it to my belt. I was done playing around and as the fire came to climax within my eyes, I set my gaze upon the man before me -- icy blue eyes piercing through the night as my muscles trembled in anticipation of the release. There was something primal, feral, and dark in the way I desired to make this Sith pay for ever stepping foot upon my homeworld. I had never felt this way before and it was wholly new to me in such a way that it reduced me to nothing more than a virgin lost in her own naivete.

Walking -- sauntering towards him, my pale lips pursed and slowly formed into a smirk. Mere metres and a constellation of fiery debris separated Ahriman and I as I looked directly into my destiny.


"There is nothing that I hope to do and in doing so, I accomplish everything...." It was with this one phrase that I hoped to bring this Sith Lord to his knees. As the Force would mandate, I was provided my opportunity in the most unsuspecting of forms.

As the reek had deftly scaled the crumbling building and thrown itself from the summit, one of the snow white dragons was clipped by the large metallic beast and tumbled to the ground, a tangle of horns and wings. The reek survived the fall and latched onto the dragon by the neck, driving its teeth like a wedge between the armoured plates. As the dragon plummeted from the sky, most eyes were drawn to such a large beast that I took this moment in time -- used this distraction, however minor, to my advantage. Staring Ahriman down, my face remained solemn and emotionless as my body appeared to be engulfed in a light brighter than Olim itself. Surrounded by the darkness, my Force Blinding easily took hold as it grew in intensity from the palm of my hand and left its impression on all who surrounded me -- and I hoped to the point that I would be able to slip away unnoticed into the darkness.

A defeated look reflected within the dragon's eyes as it resigned itself to its fate; screeching once, then twice before falling silent as the technovirus invaded its system. As its armoured plates morphed into something more, metallic in nature, the beast took on a macabre appearance as its white skin slowly bled crimson and black. All activity was severed in the frontal lobes as the technovirus continued its rampage -- what was one a semi-sentient creature had been reduced to a drone capable of a single desire -- to serve its master. Ahriman had won another dejarik piece to his cause.

By the time the commotion had come to rest and the light of my Force Blinding had faded, I was nowhere to be seen, concealing my presence within the force much as my physical appearance had been concealed within the dead of night. I had scaled the nearest remnant of a building that had bordered the city square, hoping to reach Arcanus in time before this other Sith had a chance to inflict any further damage. Time was running out and I could only maintain my cover for so long -- what felt like minutes dragging on was actually only mere seconds -- they were all I had to act to save my friend and my planet. Closing my eyes, I steadied myself upon my perch, looking out at the world with the aid of the force.

It was strange, both in visual sight and sensation.

I could see the steady beating of Arcanus' heart and the Sith encircling his incapacitated form rendered as nothing but a shadow. Opening my eyes and inhaling sharply as the world flooded into focus once more, I made my decision and my move. Silently, effortlessly I dropped down the side of the building and cart wheeled over piles of duracrete -- throwing myself into Varro and with the aid of a well timed force push, sent him flying away.

Exhaling the breath I had unknowingly held, I knew time was not on my side as I rushed over to Arcanus and knelt down next to him, grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling his torso closer to me as I attempted to rouse him to consciousness.
"Arcanus!" I hissed, voice ripe with anger and panic as I looked up and scanned the area around us. Nothing but a fiery back drop to our star crossed situation. I shook him again, a little bit harder this time as I hugged his body close to my own. Surveying the situation, I knew I would have difficulty moving him on my own, so my best bet was to try to wake him.

"Arcanus! We don't have much time now...wake up!" I spoke hurriedly once more as I examined his injuries a bit closer now. It only appeared as though the metal encasing his head had been compromised. He would survive for now. To accompany my words, I connected with his conscious within the force; prodded his mind and extended a type of healing tendril out towards him just as I had watched my father do many a time before.

Those we care about were always the ones to pay the price we seemed to owe as Jedi, as fighters of the light. I was not even entirely sure if I was just fooling myself by clinging to such a title anymore or not. Ever since the Order had failed in protecting my father, the once great Grand Master Coral, I had lost my faith in them. For me, it was more of a personal vendetta now. I no longer ascribed to the Jedi Code and had strayed, not far, but still strayed from the path of the Jedi Master I had once been.
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Post Tue Jan 22, 2013 9:17 pm

Re: Adascopolis

*His vision of reality about him, suddenly went white. it was the absence of colour, yet the culmination of them all. Ahriman was blind, not only to the world around him but deadened to the force itself. The momentary slip in control broke his hold over the elements. The gale winds began to falter and the storm above stirred into silence. Beams of heavenly light broke through the cover of clouds, and illuminated the carnage below. The sight of white faded to black, as if midnights embrace banished the light from his vision. Farther than he could reach, the sorcerer saw an all too familiar sight playing out before his very eyes. It was a scene from the past- one played out through his own eyes- in which the Fateweaver had his first taste of true power and a glimpse of the truth that lay beyond the light. In the hallowed halls of the Jedi Temple, Ahriman watched events unfold through his youthful eyes as his childish form took off into the darkness of the night and into the forbidden vaults, sealed beneath the Coruscant's crust. Impressions, nay, something akin to instinct had led him into the planets depths. A dull ache echoed within his mind. Drawn to the whispers of power and the temptations of knowledge unbound, the youthful Ahriman nimbly danced through the lethal mazes rife with traps. These were put in place to ensure that the darkest secrets of the Jedi Order were kept safe, from both the weak minded and greed stuck treasure hunters alike. They, however, meant very little to a determined soul hungry for the truth.

Ahriman watched with fleeting interest as his younger self had claimed his rightful prize. He felt the same power flow through his veins, as his teenaged form lifted the pyramid towards the heavens. Nearly a century had passed since then, and his power had flourished under the limits of his own ambition. He laughed - so too did his youthful form, both were hoarse and rife with malice. In the darkness of his own mind, the laughter broke the momentary blindness and echoed into the realm of reality. The sound carried upon the breeze, filling the hearts of those that worshiped him and stopping those infected with the techno-virus in their tracks. His mind was his own again, and the light that had thrown him onto the stage of remembrance had finally withdrawn it's curtains.*


"Clever nemoidian." *The Sorcerer muttered. Lifting his restored eyes towards the approaching figure, his voice carried upon the wind and flowed down the altar's steps. Though she was hidden from his sight by the trickery of Ashla, he knew she would not leave the field of battle.* "The offer still stands, regardless of your resistance Lady Concordia. Submit and your planet and it's people will be spared this torment."

*He took a moment, his helms gaze cast aside to stare at nothing. The right hand cupped the outside of his helmet, the exact place where his ears would be.* "Can you not hear the song of Arkania's lament? The sorrow of it's people, the despair of a planet in it's death throes?" *He shook his head.* "No, Of course you can't. Your ears are not as attuned to the Primordial truth as mine are. You are blinded by your faith in the anathema, for you can not see the events shaping the galaxy taking place about you. The one truth will Illuminate your doubt. It will show you the wondrous things you've been taught to fear and loathe. It is the force of creation itself, and it can not be denied!"

*He let loose a sigh of resignation as he watched her fly towards her fallen friend, casting his own promising acolyte into the chilled air. Finally phasing back into reality, Ahriman's glare befell the defiant Ice Queen.*

"Resist all you like Witch, for in the end all souls become one with the darkness. The afterlife your precious Jedi Order preaches is nothing more than a crafted lie to grant your brothers a life without fear of death, blinded by their own foolishness. Though when your time has come, if you take my offer, I can assure you that death will forever avert it's gaze. Side with the forces of Bogan and Immortality shall be yours! Creation itself shall ever more be your ally, and the afterlife shall be nothing more than a broken chain strewn about your feet."

*Ahriman knew that she would not be cooed by words alone, yet he relished the chance to spread the word of the Primordial Annihilator. Normally - entire cities would be corrupted from Ashla's cause by the words of a skillful orator, however since much of the population of Adascopolis was already enthralled or infected Ahriman knew they would fall upon deaf ears. Yet there was the chance, a vision of the future that could come true should her choice be akin to his desires. And that fact alone was enough to stake his craft as a wordsmith upon. Whilst his voice called out to the lithe figure cradling the fallen one below, Ahriman's mind broke through the crude matter of his physical shell and projected a single impulse into the mind of his battered apprentice. A single thought bore into his mind as the youthful acolyte regained his footing. Vivid images of violence and the woman before them both flashed in Varro's eyes. The fires of rage broiled within his chest, boiling the blood flowing through his veins. His pride was hurt, falling once more for a simple Witches trickery. The warrior's teeth were clenched tight with malice forming across his face, the barely contained animal within lashing at it's cage.

As the impression had subsided, Varro regained control over his body wracked with aches. His blood began to simmer and pools of hatred slowly began to swirl within his emerald eyes. His intense gaze fell upon the Lady Concordia and the fallen one lying beneath. Pain in his knuckles flared as his lips curled into a malicious grin, the memory of cracking open the strider of suns Helm still fresh. His prey had come to the aid of her friend, and the Warrior could not imagine how many times this scene has replayed itself through out their star crossed histories. That alone made this encounter laughable.*


"He's more machine now, than man." *Varro said reverently, as if the words themselves held a power beyond imagination. Despite the reverence, the words had left a sour taste upon his tongue, having ripped them from the mouth of one of Ashla's greatest champions.* "He will not wake for the like of you." *Varro stopped, a few feet between the Jedi pair and himself. He adopted a wide stance, bringing his boots down firmly upon the snow - a shoulders width apart.* "The only thing that can bring him back, is the very thing that he has fought his entire life. One of the primordial truth's great paradoxes, for one to die alone in order to be reborn in the face of creation." *The sapphire robes encasing the warrior flickered in the gentle breeze.* "The light, as you know it, is a lie. It breeds stagnation and death. It is the true anathema to the primordial truth. We serve the one true power in a universe of pariah's and heretics. One way or another, we will Illuminate your mind to the truth behind the veil of our fickle galaxy."

*Varro's hand lifted to point at his master, the soft flesh of his palm facing the sky above.*

"He is the very will of the Annhilator made manifest, and the darkness that you sought to shroud beneath the mountains will be uncovered. Such parlor tricks can not hide the vaults from my master's all seeing eye, for he has foreseen this world burning in it's own folly. He has stared into the depths of time immemorial and seen through the eyes of the one you seek to save. We have seen the door in which you have stored your secrets, an abandoned vault rife with trinkets and tomes. It is useless to resist when your Ashla's trickery has been foiled by Bogan's righteous wrath." *He paused for a moment, to collect his breath.* "While you still draw breath, submit to the will of creation and end this eternal age of strife."

*Varro - as his master had already known - knew that she would not bend the knee to reason. She would defy the will of genesis itself, as it was Ashla's way to rebel against action when stagnation reigned supreme. Varro's smile faded as he had finally come to this conclusion. Knowing Arhiia to stand resolute in her faith, despite the truth erupting about her. It was the Jedi way. The steadfast guardians of a corrupt lie that preached peace. Shifting his hand away from his master and pointing it at the fallen form of Arcanus, a tendril of telekine energy leapt from his fingers and firmly bound itself around the Wayward Knight's waist. Yanking the prone figure from underneath the touching embrace of the Ice Queen, the Son of Calistarious wrapped his fingers around the Jedi's belt. Falling limp in Varro's grasp, the wayward knight's form crashed to the altar's surface. With his free hand, the Sith warrior removed his lightsaber and activated the blade. A snap-hiss filled the deathly silence and washed the plinith with a purple glow. The weapon was not made by the hands of the man whom held it, rather it was a trophy taken from the wounded figure whom now lay once more at the armed figures feet. Varro dipped Arcanus' saber down towards the wayward knight's throat.

It was in that moment that Varro had experienced a moment of the Primordial truths true power. The power over life and death itself. He held the life of Arcanus Sunstrider within the palm of his hand. A simple downwards thrust and the man that caused him to endure months of grief and a lifetime of hate, would be dead. A simple flick of the wrist and his golden thread would be cut. Temptation was beginning to gnaw at his mind, his passions for revenge obscuring the plan his master had outlined.*


"Varro..."

*A stern voice called out in the distance, breaking the warriors moment of weakness. Deactivating the lightsaber and replacing it upon his belt, the hound had finally come to heel. While his blood once again began to boil, that same voice cut through the red haze of vengeance.* "You will get your revenge, my son. Of that I give you my word. For now, leave his broken shell to its own devices as we have more pressing matters at hand."

*Varro nodded absently.*

'As you wish, my master..."

*Descending the steps with an unnatural grace, Ahriman came to stand beside his pupil. His gaze never faltering from the Lady Concordia, ever watchful for more trickery and deception.* "It is the Jedi way to resist the forces of Bogan. They seek to shackle the uncontrollable and halt the Annihilators relentless advance. Control, Order? They are but words, though powerful as they maybe, they are still just words. It is the action that forms the word and gives it substance, and the Jedi are not inherit beings of action. No, action is the realm in which preside. We, whom had no name till we met the very aspects of creation, upon the cinnamon dusted plains of Korriban." *Ahriman paused for a moment, taking in the beauty of creation and the lithe figure of his foe.* "It will be a shame if you refute my offer of allegiance, as I would very much like your body to be alive and warm when I delve into the depths of this world."

*Leaning heavily upon his staff, the sorcerer's cracked lips formed an insidious smile shrouded by his helm.*

"Oh." *A dramatic pause.* "What secrets we shall uncover."
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