https://starwarsintrocreator.kassellabs.io/#!/BLzG6Hz0ghlFCzyxOvSJSTAR WARSINTERREGNUM - EPISODE IITHE CALL OF JOMBARALIt is a dark time. After four thousand years, the Sith have achieved their greatest victory through DARTH SIDIOUS, regent of the First Galactic Empire. Under his purview, the Jedi have been all but driven into extinction, and branded traitorous renegades by the wider galaxy.Unbeknownst to him, survivors of the Jedi Order have fled into the UNKNOWN REGIONS. There, Master BRETHON LARID oversees the next generation of Jedi from the former slave-world of Mylar-3, until a more permanent and obscure sanctuary can be found.His apprentice, FARREN GAELLE, has embarked on the final trial that would make him a Jedi Knight. Journeying to the war-torn jungles of Kakarit, he hopes to find Master UYER KOSA, her Padawan AROTTA BASHUR, and bring them into the fold of the last Jedi...=====================>>RECAP of the last thread:Departing from the liberated system of Mylar-3, Master Brethon Larid journeyed to Coruscant to find the Jedi Temple a plundered ruin, and the burning pyre of ten thousand Jedi at its footsteps. He encountered Jedi Masters Kai Hudorra and Das Jennir, but failed to recruit them into his refuge in the Unknown Regions. Following a fierce disagreement, he continued on his task to infiltrate the temple, and ascertained the true identities of Darth Sidious and Darth Vader.On Kakarit, Farren rendezvoused with the survivors of the 57th Elite Corps, led by Commander Skipp. He revealed his true nature as a Jedi, and quickly established a hesitant, if not eager working relationship to escape not only Jombaral, but the wrath of the Empire.His journey into the Heart of Kakarit, however, offered far more than the first step of emotional reconciliation with his rival/lover Arotta Bashur. In the depths of a forgotten temple, he dueled a gestalt entity of the Kakari to a standstill, and communed with the Force Ghost of his mother Alleana Gaelle. Further exploration yielded the Godseye, a massive crystal used as a foci for Force Energy, and Farren raised an ancient shield that drove the Children away and established a secure haven in the ruins of the ancient capital.But the Herald of Jombaral was not so easily dissuaded. He offered Farren a deal: the Sunstone Spear of the Accuser of Pilgrims in exchange for Jedi Master Uyer Kosa. Naturally, there was no deal, but a challenge: descend into the Womb of Jombaral and take Master Kosa from the depraved machinations of the Herald...Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4237192/Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Star%20Wars%20InterregnumCharacter Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/TaskForceKazTwitter: https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz
========>>Farren Gaelle>Brawn: 2>Finesse: 3>Intellect: 2>Cunning: 2>Resolve: 3>Panache: 2>>Skills:>Astronavigation 1 (Intellect) – a measure of knowledge about the galaxy’s stellar composition, allowing for the correct plotting of routes and hyperspace jumps.>Cool 1 (Panache) – a measure of a character’s ability to remain calm under danger. Rolled to resist Charm and Negotiation.>Coordination 1 (Finesse) – a measure of a character’s nimbleness and flexibility.>Deception 1 (Cunning) – judges the character’s ability to trick others into believing falsehoods.>Lore 2 (Intellect) – how much the character knows of the ancient galaxy and its history.>Mechanics 1 (Intellect) – skill and prowess in working on all things from weapons to droids and ships.>Melee 2 (Brawn) – a character’s proficiency with melee weapons such as knives and swords.>Medicine 1 (Intellect) – a skill used to treat wounds as minor as scrapes to life-threatening injuries.>Perception 2 (Cunning) – a skill used to notice clues, perceive hidden dangers, and all manner of hidden objects or persons.>Piloting [Space] 1 (Agility) – the ability to pilot starships and other stellar vessels.>Sith 1 (Intellect) – a measure of a character’s knowledge regarding the Sith and Dark Side of the Force.>Stealth 1 (Agility) – a measure of how easily a character can hide or appear inconspicuous.>Vigilance 2 (Resolve) – represents a character’s ability to take notice and react to events happening in their surroundings/peripheral vision.>>Traits:>Jedi Shadow [Add +2 to checks made for Deception, Perception, Stealth and Vigilance]>Makashi Expert [Roll 3d6 when using Form II/Makashi]>Indistinguishable [You are but a face in the crowd, and add 1d6 to Stealth rolls]>>Lightsaber Rating: 3>>Weapons: One yellow-gold, single-blade lightsaber.>>Lightsaber Forms:>Form II, Makashi [Finesse]>Form VI, Niman [Finesse+Cunning]>>Force Rating: 2 (2d10+Resolve)>>Force Affinity: Alter (+5 bonus to Alter-type powers)>>Force Powers:>Force Fire 2 (Alter) – a pyrokinetic ability that allows the practitioner to manipulate and conjure flames with the Force. Especially deadly against the Children of Jombaral.>Force Pull/Push 1 (Alter) – The iconic telekinesis of every Jedi, determines lifting limit and push power.>Force Speed 1 (Alter) – The universe seems to slow around you, and you are react faster as a result of it.>Force Weapon 3 (Alter) – You imbue a mundane weapon with the Force, increasing its durability and damage. Your lightsaber now does more damage. At fifth rank...?>Mystic Weapon 1 (Alter). You can imbue a lightsaber with the Force and make it fight remotely at your side. At third rank, you may add an additional lightsaber.>Sever Force 2 (Alter) – A rare and seldom-taught and used technique by the Jedi of the Old Republic that strips one’s connection with the Force. Leveling this increases duration and potency.======
===========Misc. Inventory=>Golden Lightsaber Crystal – one of two lightsaber crystals you had taken from the caves of Illum when you were a Youngling. The lightsaber it had been embedded in had been destroyed by the Herald of Jombaral.>Holocron of the Betrayer – a Jedi Holocron containing the persona of Kreia, an enigmatic Jedi from the time of Darth Revan.>Liar’s Blade – the spearhead carried into battle by the Liar Chieftain against the Herald of Jombaral thousands of years ago. Supposedly, it is to be used against the Herald to release the souls it devoured.>Mandalorian Blaster – a Mandalorian pistol given to you by Nomiana Whrul after a passionate evening on Mylar-3. She gave it to you in the hopes that it would keep you alive in the Unknown Regions.>Sunspear – an ancient weapon from a forgotten age, when the surface of Kakarit was an endless plain of sand. It is among the finest forms of Kakari technology, using the energy stored within embedded sunstones to manifest a field of energy along its blade. Its prior owner was the Accuser of Pilgrims, Guardian of the Godseye, a gestalt entity comprised of fifty souls strong in the Force.=Leads from Alleana=>Arkinnea, a planet in the Expanse Region, where refugees of both Separatist and Republic bent flee.>Bracca, a planet in the Mid Rim, where the only fortune to be made is from shipbreaking and scrapping.>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp void of any significant or advanced civilization.>U’haon, a planet in the Tingel Arm, suspected to be the planet you saw in the Revenant’s vision.>Uliea, a planet in the Outer Rim, homeworld of Alleana and Farren Gaelle largely unknown by the galaxy.==============
>19 BBY, approximately one month following Order 66.>>Kakarit, Behrilia System, Outer Rim>>Settlement of Nest’s End, The World Beneath>>Scrapper Squad, survivors of the 57th Elite Corps>Commander Skipp, Alpha-class ARC Trooper.>Oann, Field Medic.>Cooper, Ordinance Specialist.>Stye, Blaze Trooper.>Evo, AT-RT Scout Trooper.>Trykov, Logistics Officer, >Roppock, Infantry Trooper.Alpha -034, or Commander Skipp as he’d come to distinguish himself, had come to a quiet revelation about a terrible truth of the galaxy. It was a theory he kept quiet about, and had never shared aloud with anybody, not among his brothers nor the myriad Jedi Generals he’d served alongside with.Rations, even those produced in the Unknown Regions, tasted just as bad as the ones produced in the known areas of the galaxy. There were a few, of course, that tasted marginally better, but the ones flavored with something remotely palatable were always in short supply.Still, he wasn’t about to complain. After two months of extreme survival in conditions even the cloners couldn’t have predicted, the flavorless, borderline cardboard was a very welcome distraction. Trykov had cracked more than one joke about eating flies if they had to roast one more lizard-frog, Cooper’s tricks with spice and salt be damned.He managed a few more chews before swallowing some lump of unidentifiable proteins. The packet said that it was sequenced from ‘grox’ flank, but whatever the hell a grox was didn’t taste all that good. He’d had to flinch two pepper packets and a pinch of sugar to make it at least somewhat palatable.There was some comfort in that it at least wasn’t cloner rations. One of the trainers had made a joke about how the Kaminos didn’t waste anything, even ‘defective’ troopers. A whole platoon’s worth of shines had refused to eat for a day following that. Jango Fett had reprimanded the trainer sharply and assured the ARC troopers that, no, they were not eating the re-sequenced and/or recycled proteins of their ‘failed’ brothers.The overhead light of the Great Sunstone was dim, reflecting a natural sunset as best it could in the confines of the underground. Just a dozen meters from their makeshift outpost, the lights of Nest’s End were similarly diminishing. The bright lights in the houses and along the streets gave way to more solitary sources, either individual, smaller sunstones or the torches carried by the city guard.Skipp observed a plethora of colors. The patrols seemed to favor softer hues of white, leading credence to the theory that their eyesight was no different than more primitive reptilians. The lower tiers, the districts of the laborers and tradesmen, glowed with a collection of orange and yellows. Further up the social hierarchy, the priests and merchants carried purple and green sunstones. Blue was a rarer hue, reserved only for the likes of the chieftain’s compound.(cont.)
“It’s a real pretty sight, isn’t it, sir?” Oann mused from just behind his shoulder.The commander found himself agreeing. “Aesthetically? It’s quite pleasing. But from a tactical standpoint, it’s an absolute nightmare for the defenders.”The field medic chortled as he continued his bloody business. “How so?”“That many lights in this dark of a cavern? Sniper’s wet dream if I ever saw one, so long as they do a good job of hiding their muzzle flare.” Skipp winced as another one of the stitches was pulled out of his cranium. “...don’t be getting too entranced by the pretty lights. I’d like to have all these damned things out before they fester.”“I’m capable of multitasking,” assured Oann, emphasizing with a series of deft plucks. Setting down his forceps, he dabbed at the latest of angry red lines that went down the commander’s temple. With a quick dispensation of preciously limited bacta spray, the wound was properly dressed and protected from infection. “That was the last pair, actually. How are you feeling, sir?”His head was slightly throbbing, but it was a welcome pain. The damned things itched terribly. “Better. And embarrassed about taking a bloody rocket to the forehead.”“It technically exploded a good three feet away from you,” the medic corrected, dropping his equipment in a sanitizing solution. “There wouldn’t be any stitches for me to remove if that actually did happen.”“First thing in basic they always told us was to watch out for rockets,” he grumbled, standing up from a crate of rations to flex and stretch his muscles. It made for a poor gurney, especially in full Phase II armor sans the helmet. “Wrist-mounted or otherwise. The trainers would’ve given me an endless amount of grief for that.”They continued speaking as they made their way out of the ramshackle medical ward, more an enclosure of ratty tarp, and into the main body of the camp. It was a pittance compared to Firebase Charlie, less than square ten meters for their salvaged equipment and lonesome vehicles. Beyond the singular AT-RT that Evo guarded like a sacred cow, they had a pair of speeder bikes on loan from the Albatross.Still, Outpost Scales wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the prior hellhole’s Skipp had endured. Hell, if anything, it was borderline shore leave. With the Jedi’s cargo so close by, and an entire settlement’s worth of civie’s within walking distance, this was the closest place to heaven on this Force-forsaken hellhole of a planet.Cooper waved the pair over as they approached the center of the camp, all the while laboring over a giant pot set over a roaring fire. Around the pit, the rest of the survivors had assembled. To his side, a sour-looking Roppock threw vegetables and other ingredients into the mix. Evo and Stye were in the middle of an animated discussion, and a dutiful Trykov had just finished arranging bowls and utensils around the cook.(cont.)
At the sight of Skipp, Roppock immediately went ramrod straight. “Commander on deck-”“At ease,” he quickly interjected as he pulled up an empty ration crate for him and Oann. There wasn't even a deck, let alone anything beyond damp mud to stand on. “Won’t have you standing on ceremony.” To Evo and Stye, he offered a sharp nod as they settled in and picked up their utensils. “How was your patrol?”“Pretty uneventful, all things considered, sir,” answered the driver cheerfully, “Didn’t run into anything too threatening. Some of the Kakari called in for some help to deal with some kind of invertebrate with acidic spit that was terrorizing their grazing herds.”At the concerned eyebrow, Stye offered a grin, patting the heavy flamethrowers on his wrist. “Turns out they really don’t like getting flamed. They aren’t any larger than a small speeder, but the damned things just happen to hunt in packs. Honestly don’t smell too bad once cooked well-done.”Trykov laughed dryly as he wheeled in a barrel of fresh water drawn from a nearby spring. Popping open the top, he dropped in a pair of iodine tablets and began to agitate the mix vigorously. “Don’t lie to the commander like that. You came back covered in slime and manure, complaining about the stripped paint and stinking worse than an open grave.”Skipp opined to let them continue their back-and-forth, quietly observing as Cooper finished preparing dinner for all of them. Morale was up for the first time in what felt like several lifetimes since they’d made planetfall. He wasn’t nearly about to be the stick in the mud that the rookie thought of him.The commander stared at all of them for a hard, long time, taking in their faces that were nearly identical to his own. Out of three Venators’ worth of Clone Troopers, six thousand troops in total, only six had survived, not including himself. And from further information provided by Ren, of those three capital ships, each with seven thousand crew, only one had managed to escape from both the battle against the Seppies and an insidious, subversive plot by an eons-old tree spirit.With at least one Venator escaping, 33% of space forces had survived. Not great, not terrible, and depressingly common in some corners of the galaxy against certain Separatist admirals. But less than a percentile of the infantry had survived. A fraction of a percentile, really. 0.1%, to be precise. Somehow worse and complete annihilation.Oh, he’d heard the stories, of course. Settlements in the Outer Rim, whole cities glassed by turbolaser, populations and the garrison protecting them killed all the way to the last. At the very least, he could understand why an enemy commander might do it. Scorched earth was more than a viable tactic in both denying assets to an enemy, as well as demoralizing or otherwise cowing a populace into fearful submission.(cont.)
There was one recent instance that came to mind. A few months ago, he and the 57th stood atop the graves of a thousand dead villagers, firebombed into ash for supplying water to the Republic’s landing forces. Arotta had nearly caused a landslide with her anger and burning desire for justice.Master Kosa, on the other hand, used the atrocity as a trigger to rally the otherwise placid and neutral natives into aggressively defending their homeworld. The smug look on the enemy commander couldn’t have lasted too long once he’d learned about how his strategy of cowing the natives backfired horrifically.He’d picked up the scorched remains of a doll, a stuffed plushie in the image and garb of a native girl. And when no one was looking, he buried it atop a hill, facing the setting sun of the local star. Dead was dead. Not to a Jedi, but for the most of the galaxy, it happened to be the case.Not so much with Jombaral. Not so much with something that offered such a twisted form of love, an inhuman entity that killed as she loved, and still loved after death. The dead would find no peace with the likes of the False Mother, and that was a thought that deeply disturbed him.The crew of the Albatross had rescued seven clone troopers from the swamp, but there were at least fifty more that had managed to escape Firebase Charlie and resist the entity’s influence. Maybe there had been more. Perhaps they’d gotten waylaid in the jungle, either driven half-raving mad or caught by the Children. He’d never know. The armor left behind told no tales of their owners’ demises, be it by their own hands or the Call of Jombaral.Suddenly, Cooper was all up in his personal space. Skipp tensed, but there was no threat, and the abrupt tightness in his gut diminished to a low tension as the cook sauntered over with the pot. Flourishing his soup tureen with a playful gesture, he gave the commander the first serving.“Order up, sir,” groused the clone with a wry grin, oblivious to his inadvertent disturbance. He doled each member of Scrapper Squad a generous double-rations. “Compliments of both the Jedi’s cargo hold and the gifts of our hosts.”A gentle breeze blew through the underground, and the scent immutably whetted their appetites and brought Skipp out of his reverie. It smelled absolutely wonderful, something earthy and rich with just an undercurrent of exotic gaminess.Evo probed at the stew with his spork, lifting an unidentifiable mass of meat, roasted mushrooms and rehydrated grains. The driver grimaced as it fell back into his bowl with an obscene splat. “The hell is this?”“Braised sniztrix beef stew, garnished with wild pachi mushrooms,” the ordinance specialist explained, taking on an exaggerated accent that wouldn’t be out of place in the lofty tiers of the Senate building. He rattled off at least four more ingredients before he was finished. “Old family recipe.”(cont.)
Stye barked out a laugh as he dug in. Trapped in his Blaze Trooper armor, the man’s head looked comically small as he struggled to lift the bowl to his mouth. “Family recipe, eh? This come from out of the cloner’s cookbooks or from our newly-made friends?”“Considering how well he was able to make the lizard-frogs palatable, I’d believe the former,” mused Oann. He scratched at a wayward bandage around his neck, careful not to spill anything. “Never did see something with gills or fins that the Kamino’s didn’t want to eat.”Cooper hummed at the compliment, nursing his own bowl like one would a drink. Once everyone had gotten a serving, the cook sat back and took a generous gulp. “Did you ever actually see them eat, though? All I ever did see the cloners do was stand behind their consoles and stare at us condescendingly. Maybe talk to a Jedi or one of the trainers, but that’s just about it.”Variants of “no” echoed from the squad. The commander shook his head, both in wry amusement and weary resignation as he began to dig in. It certainly was good, and he suddenly found himself with a ravenous appetite. He’d managed a handful of bites and at least two-thirds of the bowl before his attention was called.“Commander Skipp, you were there in the beginning, weren’t you?” asked a curious Evo. All eyes suddenly turned towards the man in question, raising a brow in response to the query. “Out of all of us, you were on Kamino the longest.”“...yes, I was,” he answered, morbidly curious as to where this line of questioning was going. “My batch and I were among the first clones produced for the Republic.” That of course was following the headache that was the Null-class series of ARC troopers, but he didn’t mention any of that.The driver grinned eagerly, and inquired: “Did you ever see any of the cloners eat anything?”Roppock scowled, setting his spoon down with an irritated clang. “This is banal. The commander has other things to be worried about beyond baseless gossip.”The commander can think for himself and judge what is or isn’t a waste of time, thank you very much, rookie.But he didn’t say that aloud. Skipp merely finished his bowl of soup, and thought long and hard about Evo’s question. Roppock wasn’t wrong when he said it was banal. It served no obvious purpose beyond elevating morale. And it was certainly high enough already.Yet the commander wanted to think about something that wouldn’t aggravate his already dour mental state. Theorizing about the diet of the average Kaminoan was a welcome distraction from the chains of command, and migraine that was thinking too long about Jombaral. And what the hell, spitting in the eyes of the Cloners that largely left them to die seemed just about as fitting, now more than ever.“...long story short, that’s why you don’t set a ten-meter line with bait on the lower cargo platforms-”(cont.)
Halfway through his recounting of a particularly infamous “fishing” accident, the shrill whine of a speeder caught their attention. By any and all logic, it was a friendly; the Kakari were barely in the Bronze Age, and the sound of Droid STAP didn’t nearly match the pitch or timbre. But there was a brief moment as the Clones tensed as one, quietly lowering their bowls before the light illuminated Elbawaraak in his entirety.Skipp didn’t need to give the order. The squad relaxed, easing themselves back into their meals and banter. The commander stood up, gulping the last of his stew before he jogged towards the vehicle depot. The Albatross’ mechanic plucked the goggles out of his eyes, greeting Skipp with a low, undulating howl.“Evening, Elba,” returned the Clone. “82.”In spite of the relative indignity of his position in the gunny sack, the head of the HK droid was relatively chipper. “Statement: it is very much a good evening, commander.”“Let’s hope it stays that way. So what’s it gonna be tonight, business or pleasure?” Skipp gestured back towards the camp. “Cooper just made sniztrix stew.”Elba’s nostrils flared slightly as he tasted the air. He nodded, seemingly in approval, but tapped at the head of HK-82. Business first, it seemed. Cooper’s pot was certainly large enough for even fifth servings, but the voracious appetites of half-starved Clone Troopers weren’t small things to ignore at.Still, there wasn’t any reason for them to just stand awkwardly there. Skipp motioned for Elba to follow him. “Walk and talk.”The wookiee grunted as he walked, then followed up with a series of chiprs. The droid helpfully explained, “Translation: communications have been established with Master Gaelle. It seems his mission to the Heart of Kakarit was a success. Conclusion: the Children have lost their primary spawning grounds and stronghold.”That was the best damned news Skipp had heard in a very, very long time. He let out a long breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, along with a relieved chuckle. Admittedly not the most professional, but the situation more than warranted it. Beyond their rescue from the desolation, this was their first real victory against the bloody weeds.“No kriff, really?” replied Skipp with a grin and shake of his head. “Guess that’s a Jedi for you.” He paused as another thought surfaced to the forefront of his mind. “What about Padawan Bashur? I remember hearing that she disappear towards the Heart.”The droid continued, “Reassurance: Padawan Arotta Bashur has been recovered and is currently undergoing medical treatment.”Confusion dampened his joy. "With whom?”“Helpful Answer: Commodore Octavia Pullo Mercantor of the ISS Globus. Addendum: the Globus and Separatist Remnant have since relocated from the western side of the Apatorex and have established an F.O.B. in the ruins of the Heart.”(cont.)
His eyes narrowed. Separatists. Ren could give him all the assurances of the commodore’s promises and goodwill, but he’d have to see it for himself. His eyes flicked towards Elba, who picked up the question and shrugged in response. The wookiee didn’t seem to care so long as they were friendly and lacked bark as an epidermis.And hadn’t there been talks about evacuating the Kakari? Certainly, even the core ship of a Lucrehulk-class battleship would comfortably accommodate the thousand souls within Nest’s End. The main problem? With how Evo and Stye gave their report after their patrol, evacuation seemed to be the last thing on the Kakari’s minds.Not his pay grade. That was for the likes of Ren and Master Kosa, if she were here...When they reached the center of the camp, Cooper already had a steaming bowl waiting for Elba. At his firm reassurance that the grains came only from ration packs, the wookiee’s nervousness was sedated. Removing the bag containing HK-82, he took a seat besides Stye and began to tear into his dinner.Skipp gave the troops an abridged version of the report as he took his second serving for the evening. They reacted much as he’d have expected: obvious relief, reassured smirks and taunting jeers at the reversal of fortune. Even Roppock managed to crack a smile, small as it was.“And Ren’s back on his way now, right?” asked Evo. “Because we need some new orders! I’m gonna put on some weight if we keep eating like this.”“You’re already fat enough as it is,” grunted Oann, “Hopping around on that AT-RT instead of walking like a true Clone Trooper.”“C’mon,” Stye countered, sloshing the contents of his bowl around, “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t mind eating like this for a few more weeks?”Elba grunted in agreement, belching as he handed his bowl to Cooper for another double...triple serving. All the while, HK-82 blinked among the groans and jeers of the rest of Scrapper Squad, minus the commander and the hungry wookiee. “Sardonic conformation: yes. He is seeing to some final talks with the commodore-”thoomSkipp looked up from his meal, eyes narrowing into a deep frown. “...did you hear that?”The severity of his voice, like a harsh whippet that cracked the cool underground air, doused their jovial mood like a bucket of water. All of them, including the disembodied droid and wookiee, were suddenly alert and scanning for what the commander had heard.Roppock frowned. “Hear what, sir?”“Wrrah...” Elba’s eyes closed in concentration.Thoom“No, I definitely heard that,” interjected Stye, standing up abruptly. “I definitely heard it that time.”Evo looked nervously around the outpost. “What the hell is that noise? I know that the worms make a hell of a racket, but unless it’s some sort of migration...”THOOMCRACK(cont.)
There was a terrible noise as the earth seemed to tremble, disturbing the dust and dirt beneath their feet. From the ceiling, moisture from the overhanging stalactites were shaken off their surfaces, dusting over the camp and city in a mimicry of rainfall. The ground beneath their feet seemed to shake for a few more moments before coming to a standstill...“...earthquake?” offered Trykov hesitantly.“Everyone, shut up. Erm, no offense, sir...” Cooper frowned, closing his eyes and concentrating on the sound. His brow visibly twitched, and they could see the gears turning in his head as he ran through the mental database of possible battlefield noises. “...sounds like...”sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhweeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEHis eyes snapped open. “...artillery fire!”There was a great explosion of dirt stone just a few dozen meters away from the outpost. In an instant, the damp, cool air of the cavern was befouled by the sharp tang of smoke and burnt accelerant as a secondary explosion erupted from the site. It was shortly followed by at least a dozen more similar noises that rained down from the ceiling.Mere heartbeats after the first shell had fallen, Skipp leapt into action. Dinner was all but a distant memory as his entire being shifted into combat mode. “Helmets on!” he roared to Scrapper Squad in a voice that demanded nothing short of utter obedience, “Helmets on, right kriffing now!”There was a noise as the pot overturned and soup bowls went flying. The men of Scrapper Squad abandon their seats, scrambling for their firearms and equipment with all due haste. Elba simply upended the entirety of his bowl into his mouth, grabbing the burlap sack with HK-82 as well as the blaster rifle at his back.The peaceful image of the settlement, with their soft lights and myriad colors, was quickly roused into action just as they were. Overhead, the Great Sunstone flared to an almost painful degree as the artificial sun illuminated the entirety of the underground. Not unlike a searchlight, its magnificence seemed to focus, narrowing into a pillar of light that scanned the vast expanse of the Underground World.Skipp tracked the path it’s light carved, along the distant underground lake, through the mushroom forests, up along the maze of stalactites and stalagmites, the obsidian ceiling of the Firmament-“Oh fuck.” When the rest of Scrapper Squad turned to where the commander was staring at, they cut loose in their own way: strings of virulent curses, noises of disbelief...all equally fearful.It was a sight from out of a nightmare. From a large crack in the ceiling three klicks away, the Children of Jombaral streamed out of the crevice like demons out of hell itself. Holding open the crack in the Kakarit’s sacred Firmament was a monstrous series of roots, literally prying stone and earth apart to allow the horde entry...and in the darkness, a set of luminescent eyes glowed with evil intent.(cont.)
This...this was supposed to be impossible. He could see it on all of their faces. Some of them were shaking. All were frozen to the spot. Nest’s End was supposed to be the one place on this godforsaken planet that the Children weren’t able to enter. Even at its thinnest layer, the Firmament was supposed to be at least a kilometer thick.What the hell had changed?But the answer to his question wasn’t about to come anytime soon. Basic training kicked in. Skipp allowed himself one breath, exhaling his doubts and fears, and inhaling renewed purpose and vigor. And with the loudest voice he could muster, he shouted: “Contact, contact! X-Rays three klicks out, enemy count unknown! Move, dammit!"Instinct overrode any and all of their fears. Scrapper Squad resumed their actions of suiting up and scrambling for their equipment. The wookiee took one look at Skipp, gestured in the direction of the Albatross before roaring and sprinting away.“Translation!” shouted HK-82, struggling to remain audible as Elba ran further away, “He’s going back to the ship to provide air support and call for Master Farren!”“Much obliged!” Skipp flinched as another barrage of shells was launched. “Dammit, I need eyes on enemy artillery, and I need it yesterday!”Either by cosmic miracle or accident, none of the shells had landed atop of them. Most of them splashed harmlessly a hundred meters away from the outermost gate of Nest’s End. That relief quickly turned to alarm when the shells, bulbous, sinewy-things that looked more like living tumors began to expel a thick, muggy gas.“Chemical weapon!” shouted Cooper in a panic. “Hard seal, now!”As one, they all slapped their gauntlets, triggering the immediate activation of their Phase II armor. A timer immediately appeared on Skipp’s HUD, counting down the time for how much oxygen he had left in his backpack. He had three hours, maybe four if he pushed the recycler to its absolute limit.Evening twilight had quickly become day; the lights of Nest’s End were now in full illumination, and alarm bells were sounding from the lowest to highest tiers of the city. Someone had begun to blow a horn, sounding one, two, three sonorous blasts in a clarion call to rouse the sleepy inhabitants. Skipp cursed. He hadn’t thought to leave a liaison with the locals. He’d have to rectify that as soon as he could. But that was one out of dozens of thoughts as he pocketed ammunition clips and thermal detonators, all the while shouting orders at the rest of the squad:“Grab only what you need! Prioritize ammunition and whatever miscellaneous items you need for specialized equipment! Fall back to Alpha Trench and man your respective battle stations!"“And the rest, sir?” shouted Oann, stuffing his pack to the brim with bandages and other medical supplies."What do we do about them?"(cont.)
For a moment, he was tempted to leave everything behind as is. It wasn’t like the trees were smart enough to operate a blaster rifle or thermal detonator...and then he suddenly remembered the fate of his corps, and the disturbing thought of infected troopers using weapons other than their claws and inhuman strength.“Rig it to blow,” he said through clenched teeth, “Remote detonation. Cooper?”“Already on it, sir” answered the clone in question. He tossed Skipp the handheld detonator, and fished out half a dozen explosive charges from his backpack. “They’ll be ready to blow in thirty seconds, slave-linked to your master switch, sir.”All of the noise both Outpost Scales and Nest’s End made did nothing to mask or dampen the chanting of the Children. “Jombaral,” they hissed as they advanced upon the city, setting roots deep into the cavern ground. It was no louder than a whisper, barely a light gust of wind behind the ear, but they heard it just as easily as their numbers swelled and bloated. “Jombaral...”The shared HUD of Scrapper’s battle-net struggled to put firing solutions on the approaching horde. Tall Walkers descended from sinuous timbers as thick as starships, each holding a platoon’s worth of Infected in their arms in a grotesque parody of affection. They set them down at their makeshift LZ, climbing back up to bolster their numbers over and over again.(He quickly snagged the coordinates for a future bombing run.)There were at least twenty of the monstrosities, each bringing down even more creatures in their wake: canine quadrupeds, hunchbacked things with too many faces and mouths, monsters he’d never seen before in the long months since their deployment and subsequent marooning...Among the infantry were several poor souls Skipp recognized as Kakari scouts, twisted and deformed by the corruption. But an overwhelming number bore the shattered remnants of Phase II Clone Trooper Armor. Not all of them displayed the worst of the infection, but there was no hope for any of them beyond a blaster bolt between the eyes.For a moment, he could have sworn that one of them looked back at him. Its face was half-obscured by the transmutation of skin to wood, but its eyes held just the barest amount of cognition within them. And staring into that twisted reflection of himself and the rest of Scrapper Squad...Skipp felt a cold chill run down and up the length of his spine.The sound of a starship’s engines firing up broke him out of his thoughts. Just a bit a ways away by the gate, Ren’s crew had started the Albatross. There wasn’t nearly enough time.“Trykov, take one speeder and into the Albatross!” ordered Skipp, “They’re gonna need your help with air support!”The clone actually looked insulted, protesting, “I can fight on the front line, sir, no differently than anyone else in the squad! If you’re gonna send someone up into the air, at least have the rookie-!”(cont.)
He wasn’t having this. Even as Roppock gave voice to his own protest, Skipp marched towards Trykov, grabbing him harshly by the shoulders and screamed, “There isn’t anyone else here besides Evo who knows the insides of a starship better than you! And I need him as our liaison to the Kakari, do you understand?!”The requisitions officer had the good sense to not argue any further. He snapped a quick, if somewhat shaky salute and “YES, SIR!”. But aforementioned AT-RT driver’s posture all but spelled confusion at the order.“Integrate yourself with the highest echelons of their authority,” demanded Skipp of the driver. “I don’t care what you have to do. Pull the Jedi’s name if need be. They’ll listen to that, at the very least. Look for locals with blue scales and hides.”The commander gazed at them all, the six out of six thousand that had come to the system, the six out of fifty that had survived the Desolation of Moloch. This was, without a doubt, going to be the battle of their lives. They knew it, and he knew they knew. There wasn’t any mistaking their posture or candor.After all, were they not brothers, if not exactly the same? He felt their fear, their nervousness...morale had boomeranged back-and-forth. Was he scared? It had been bred out of him. But he'd be lying if he didn't have the jitters in his stomach that he hadn't felt since basic training.Grand speeches were never his strong suit. He left that up to the diplomats and the Jedi in charge of them. Why spend time with so many flowery words? Efficiency had been all but hardwired into his brain even when he was a fetus in a mechanical womb.Still...there was no greater time than the present to rally the flagging morale of Scrapper Squad. He'd seen Master Kosa do it before.“...we don’t need to hold them off forever,” he dryly demurred, slamming a fresh magazine into his weapon. The high-pitched whine of his WESTAR-M5 confirmed a full magazine, and he slotted in a grenade into the under-barrel launcher. “Just until the Jedi comes back. But until then...”>>How did Commander Skipp inspire the clones of Scrapper Squad?>Grimly remaining them to sell their lives dearly against Jombaral. If they fall, then the galaxy is doomed.>He invoked a war chant in guttural Mando’a, learned from his training with Jango Fett. Kote, Vode An!>With the boisterous, gung-ho bravado typical of a seasoned veteran. The only easy day was yesterday!VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS
>>4399528>He invoked a war chant in guttural Mando’a, learned from his training with Jango Fett. Kote, Vode An!That's heavy.
>>4399528>He invoked a war chant in guttural Mando’a, learned from his training with Jango Fett. Kote, Vode An!If we die, we die as ourselves.
>>4399528>He invoked a war chant in guttural Mando’a, learned from his training with Jango Fett. Kote, Vode An!Glad to have you back and for signs you're recovering.
>>4399528>>He invoked a war chant in guttural Mando’a, learned from his training with Jango Fett. Kote, Vode An!
Would it be odd to adopt a sort of honor suicide stance, given death is a preferable to the alternative in this scenario?
>>4399662No, not at all. That wouldn't be inordinately out of character.Writing...
>>4399831Kept us waiting, huh?
>>4399558>>4399584>>4399616>>4399636>>At the same time...There is a hiss of air as the medical capsule closes, sealing the comatose form of Arotta Bashur within a sterile environment. Within seconds, the embedded droid brain finishes a scan of its latest patient, and her bio-signs appear on the interface. All nominal, reading relatively normal for a togruta with her injuries. Sedatives have been administered, and what little bacta the Separatists have has already begun flooding her systems.It’s almost like a sick joke. For someone who prided herself on appearing strong, Arotta had never looked this vulnerable. And in spite of the mask affixed around her head, the pinched, tight expression seems to indicate that she’s well aware of her own situation. Angry about it, too.You pull your fingers away from the glass with a weary breath. To think, you’d gone and practiced whatever speeches and words necessary, and ran through a million scenarios as to how to deliver them. But none of those practiced words are able to be recounted.Octavia remains silent as the capsule levitates away from you, nestled between her honor guard. It travels up along the ramp and into the depths of a Sheathipede-class transport shuttle. Together, against the backdrop of the setting star, Jedi and Separatist officer quietly watch the sight of the shuttle and its precious cargo take flight into the air, returning back to the ISS Globus with little in the way of fanfare.You are the first to break the silence. “Thank you. I truly mean it.”She accepts your words with a curt nod. “I’m merely upholding my end of the deal, but your words are accepted. I can’t claim to know how you Jedi function, but I’m not blind to the bonds of brotherhood and camaraderie. Especially now, in a galaxy gone wrong.”That’s quite possibly the most bare-bone explanation of your relationship. Not quite wrong when applied to the Jedi as a wider whole, but still insufficient to describe Farren Gaelle and Arotta Bashur. And truth be told, you aren’t quite sure yourself how to put it into words.Octavia merely shrugs at your look, displaying great mobility in the confines of her bulky enviro-suit. “Between the admiral and myself, we’ve more than plenty supplies for your friend. On my honor, she’ll receive a full battery of treatment.”Considering how they were the only two remaining organics of the Separatists, that made more than enough sense. Curiously, you inquire, “How’s your husband, by the way?”“...doing better, actually.” In rare form, the severe, thin line of her mouth softens into something gentler. “His fever’s gone down, and the latest MRI confirmed that the hyperactivity in his brain is returning to normal function.”“I’m glad to hear that.” And you mean it. Privately, you chuckle inwardly at the thought of giving well-wishes to someone who was your enemy a month ago. “When do you think he’ll be awake?”(cont.)
“Soon, hopefully. The diagnosis was either as early as today, or sometime within the week.” She pauses, casting a weary look towards the bisected, mutilated corpse of an Infected Clone Trooper. “...are you going to tell me what that was about?”“...Jedi business.”She arches a dubious eyebrow, a dryly repeats, “Jedi business.”“Jedi business,” you answer back, but elaborate, “But it won’t be of any immediate concern to you. I’ve just got one more Jedi to rescue...” At the flat look that all but conveys the dissatisfaction with your answer, you relent, continuing, “...all the way in what I suspect to be the core of the planet.”Octavia barks out a derisive laugh. “You Jedi don’t really do anything by the half-measure, do you?”No, you honestly don’t.But before you could return to pensive silence or further banter, the comm-link in your ear goes off with a shrill series of electronic beeps. The blood in your veins freezes as the person on the other end, which only could have been the Albatross, is transmitting an emergency, high-priority signal at maximum power.You deftly answer, depressing the little bud. “Gaelle here. Report-”“Boss!” Suzel’s voice comes over the comm. He’s...well, panic from the Nagai isn’t anything new, even if he does do his job damned well. In any other situation, you’d chalk it up to his easily excitable nature, but there’s not an undercurrent as much as a torrent of dread interwoven within his voice. “Boss, you gotta get back here, now! We’ve got a big, fuckin' problem!”Wincing at the loudness of his voice, you sharply answer, “Suzel, what the hell-”His next words cause the blood in your veins to freeze. “They’ve breached the Firmament! I repeat, the Children have breached the bloody Firmament! They’re coming out of the goddamned ceiling and marching on Nest’s End!”The abrupt change in your posture and tone isn’t lost on Octavia or her escort. But what the actual hell?! “How the hell did that happen?” you demand, “Troxl told me that the Firmament and Ancestor’s Teeth-”“Earthquake of some sort, I honestly don’t know or really care all that much,” the nagai blithely answers, “But we need you down here, boss! The clones and I are of the same mind that a Jedi’s presence is sorely needed!”You run the math in your head. The journey atop Brighthorn had taken the better part of the afternoon. Four hours, at the latest? A walk in the park for a light scouting mission, but an absolute lifetime for a battle on the level of a siege.Shit! There's not enough time-Octavia pulls you out of your thoughts with a tight grip on your shoulder, and a sharp nod towards her shuttle. “Into the Sheathipede, Jedi! She’s sluggish, but still faster than an organic mount by leagues. All I need is a flight plan to the settlement and any TRP data your ship can provide.”(cont.)
>>4399894Well, since she was so polite in offering...“If you weren’t a married woman, I’d be sorely tempted to kiss you right now,” you call as you sprint up the ramp, hot on the heels of the commodore and her B2 escort.That elicits an uproarious laugh from the cockpit. “You’d have to get past the glass of this helmet before that, Jedi!”Rolling your eyes, you sit in an unoccupied chair and radio back Suzel, “The Seppies are offering me a ride back. Give advance warning to the clones that any or all CIS ships are not to be fired on.”“Understood...” transmits the nagai before he thoughtfully adds, “Say boss...you think you could convince your friends to loan us a few of their droids? Because, uh...” There’s a lull in the transmission before it continues, “Battle-net’s putting firing solutions on at least three thousand hostiles. Not including artillery, Tall Walkers, and something I swear that looks like my sleep paralysis demon.”You try not to blanche. Emphasis on ‘try’. “Confirm again...three thousand?”“Aye, at last count...although that number’s gonna keep on going up. Boss, I don’t know what the hell happened in the Heart, but it looks like you really kicked the hornet’s nest.”You should have taken my offer, Jedi...Violently quashing that train of thought before it can metastasize into something worse, you shout up to Octavia, “Did you get all that?”“I did and more,” comes the reply, with only the slightest hint of strain.“...I don’t suppose I could impose on you reinforcements, among other support?”The ship lurches as the drive spins to life, hovering into the air before flying away from the temple. Octavia descends from the cockpit, popping the top of her helmet off. Out the window, you can detect the auto-pilot taking a course back towards the Globus.“Impose?” jokes the commodore, “No, you wouldn’t be imposing. Although I have to say, it really does sometimes feel like I’m carrying most of the weight in this relationship, Jedi.”...it’s not as much an inability to argue as much as a want to argue. “Believe whatever you want, Mercantor.” Then, more seriously, “...how many can you spare?”Likewise, she sobers up to match the grave expression on your face. “I have eight hundred motley assortments of B1 and B2s. But numbers won’t win us anything if we can’t get our shuttles underground.”Recalling the circumstances of the Albatross’ escape, you hurriedly explain, “...there’s a temple a few klicks south, acting like a manhole for one of the Kakari’s passageways. One of the shamen was able to manipulated the stonework to allow my ship entry.”One quick transmission to Suzel, and the nagai confirms that the temple will be open upon your arrival. Returning your attention back to Octavia, you ask, “So of those eight hundred...”(cont.)
“Honestly? I’d send all of them if I had the transports,” she remarks blithely, “Even if I did, I don’t think that your hole is gonna nearly be big enough for a C-9979.” Her eyes flick upwards towards the ceiling of the shuttle. “That said...I’ve got a plethora of Type-B sheathipedes. They haul cargo, but they can more than easily haul the likes of battle droids.”She pauses, glancing out the window and down below the trees. And a borderline predatory smile breaks out across her lips. “I almost forgot that the weeds don’t have any kind of formalized air support...”>>Octavia will commit the following forces to battle:>300 B1 Battle Droids.>100 B2 Superbattle Droids.>36 Commando Droids.>18 Vulture Droids>5 Droidekas>3 HMP Droid GunshipsIt’s an odd thing to be not only relieved at droid reinforcements, but leading them into battle. Even though she isn’t sending her whole compliment (on both a practical grounds and citing a need for security), that many droids would do wonders for the defense of Nest’s End.But it’s once she’s finished making the necessary requisitions and barking orders back to the Globus does she catch you completely off-guard.“I’m coming with you,” she bluntly declares.“What?”She gives you a dry look before ordering her escort to make way. They part, allowing her access to the rear of the shuttle, towards a pair of locked doors and an enclosed space. An armory, of some sort, is your best guess. But...but surely she isn't thinking of...“You don’t intend to fight alongside your droids?” you query disbelievingly. “Commodore, there is a very fine line between bravery and recklessness-”“Only should they overrun our position.” With a fluid motion, she shucks off the rest of the envirosuit, stepping out of it in nothing but a skintight flight suit. She marches to the armory, and opens the door to reveal a small arsenal of handheld blasters and laser carbines, hanging alongside several pieces of body armor. “Which I would most certainly not look forward to, but am more than prepared should the worst happen."Oh, Sithspit. She's one of those types of commanders. "But what about the Globus-"“The first rule of leadership, Jedi,” she continues, all the while suiting up for battle and uncaring of any wayward gaze, “Is not to order your troops to do something that you can’t or otherwise aren’t willing to do yourself. And you’ll find that all the quantum-entanglement in the galaxy won’t make up for the commander being present on the field to oversee her troops and respond to changing threats in real time.”>>What will you do?>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.>Firmly refuse her. Any tactical advantage gained isn’t worth risking the life of the Separatist officer.[VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]
>>4399942>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.Just not too close to the front lines.
>>4399942>>Firmly refuse her. Any tactical advantage gained isn’t worth risking the life of the Separatist officer.>inb4 her husband wakes up and blames us for her death
>>4399942>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.Who dares, wins.
>>4399942>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.
>>4399942>>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.
>>4399942>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.IT’S BACK
>>4399942>>Firmly refuse her. Any tactical advantage gained isn’t worth risking the life of the Separatist officer.>If the enemy has any brains they'll be hitting here next.Also yay kaz is not dead!
>>4399942>>Firmly refuse her. Any tactical advantage gained isn’t worth risking the life of the Separatist officer.
>>4400190I don’t really think they actually have any brains, I think they’re panicking and lashing out
>>4400371The herald is with them. He is VERY intelligent. and is force sensitive to boot. Remember he took our arm. Underestimate them at our peril.
>>4399942>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.welcome back boss
>>4399942Good to have you back, boss. Between the plague and that surgery shit, I was worrying you'd gone the way of Crusty Jones, peace be upon him.>>Permit her to come. Direct oversight of the battle in real-time is well-worth the risk of her exposure.Lets hope the dice gods are kind this day.
>>4399963>>4399966>>4399972>>4400037>>4400039>>4400066>>4400190>>4400333>>4400342>>4400406>>4400520Octavia gives a self-assured smirk at your resigned agreement, slapping the final seal of her body armor shut. “Trust me, Jedi, you won’t have anything to regret.” She affectionately pats the heavy pistol at her side. “I’m more than just a pencil pusher, but let’s hope I don’t have to prove myself otherwise today.”If her performance so far is anything to be measured, then you truly won’t. Considering how she nearly blew your head off upon your first meeting, or casually mentioned the execution of her infected wardroom staff.Lucky man, her husband must be.>>You gained influence with Octavia Mercantor.For the first time in thousands of years, the Heart of Kakarit is a frenzy of activity. Air traffic around the Globus can best be described as an organized chaos. Between maintenance platforms that zip from one damaged array to the next, a veritable swarm of Sheathipede shuttles hum and buzz around the core ship.It is a testament to Octavia’s skills not only as a tactician, but expert logician that the droid expedition is ready within a handful of minutes. Against the setting sun, the droids are quite nearly enough to cast a shadow over the entire city of the Heart. They hold their formation, hovering low and ominously as the lead shuttle is piloted towards the massive crystal of the Godseye.Even as it pulsates a warm, benevolent light to maintain the shield, just standing close to it is enough to make your teeth hurt. Squinting at the bright light, you reach out a hand and extend with the Force. You issue not a command, but a desire of abatement, a quiet lull in the storm before you would see it return to full strength.And the crystal responds. At the highest point of the Heart, the protective shield flickers briefly, opening a hole no larger than a corvette between the masks of the Kakari Gods. To Octavia, you radio, “We’ve got our opening!”“Acknowledged.” Then, to the droids, she shouts, “First wave, go! Second and third waves, don’t waste any time once they clear the barrier!”The first ones out are the HMP gunships, rumbling up and out of the Heart each carrying two squads of commando droids. Next to follow are the improvised troop transports, nearly two dozen in all carrying the main bulk of the reinforcements. Last to follow are the commodore’s shuttle, pulling out away from the Godseye as you break contact with the crystal.“Goose it!” you shout, falling into the arms of a B2 as Octavia guns the throttle and rockets towards the hole. Although hadn’t been any need to hurry; the gap in the shield had closed at least a full minute after you broke through. And the glowing eyes of the stone masks seem to laugh privately at your assumed need for haste.(cont.)
The commodore orders you into the co-pilot seat, motioning for you to take up a commlink. The interface is familiar enough, if not efficiently intuitive, and you quickly settle in. Her eyes remain firmly on the flight plan displayed on the HUD, leading the pack of droids towards the temple. “Do we have eyes on the ground?” she asks.You nod, fiddling with your comm. “That can be arranged.”It’s no easy task to get your Republic-issued equipment to talk or interface with Separatist communication network. Still, you do the best you can, and manage to jury-rig as best a radio protocol as dictated by SOP. The last bit of hesitation in working together quickly falls by the wayside as you punch in the crypto-keys for the G.A.R. radio communications.In your left ear, you listen to the dulcet tone of Octavia barking orders to her droids.“Override IFF program, command code ‘Uncle Julius’; designate Kakari life-forms and embattled Clone Troopers as friendly. Any clones embedded deep within the enemy are assumed to be hostile and are to be taken down with extreme prejudice.”In your right, you have transmissions wired from the Albatross and Commander Skipp. Idly, you flip the switch on the alternative channel, drawling, “This is Farren Gaelle, coming at you guys at the head of reinforcements. ETA to Nest’s End, approximately ten minutes. Can I get a status, over?”Skipp doesn’t answer, which troubles you greatly. But at the very least, Suzel replies, “Reading you loud and clear, boss! Glad to hear that you’re on your way-” There’s a brief lull as the nagai transmits a very unprofessional swear. “Erm, sorry about that. Damned Tall Walkers are throwing boulders at the ship. Over.”“Don’t go smashing my Albatross, you hear?” you warn only somewhat seriously, “But digressing, do you have eyes on Commander Skipp or Scrapper Squad? I wasn’t able to raise the commander.”“I got one of the clones manning a turret with Elba. Evo's been attached to Prince Troxl as a liaison from us to the Kakari. There might’ve been something about him mentioning that it was something you wanted...”You can guess as to why they might’ve said that. “They’ve got my full permission to act accordingly with the commander’s discretion.” Pausing, you take a shallow breath before you continue, “And what about the rest of them?”The remaining five Clones, as it happened, took up an entrenched position three hundred meters in front of the main gate. Three repurposed Z-6 rotary cannons had been put to good use, sending a hail of blue laser bolts down a mess of dips and curves, mud flatlands and intertwining waterways, slowing the advance of the horde. Skipp and his field medic had sprinted off to evacuate civilians from the farms outside the city walls.(cont.)
It isn’t a surprise to discover that the Children of Jombaral have units and other creatures that you’d never heard of before. But what’s disturbing is the fact of how well-equipped they are for besieging something as large as Nest’s End.“It’s something really bad, Jedi,” transmits Evo via the Albatross, “The shaman had to dig up some ancient texts to figure out what the hell the damned weeds were fielding. There’s something really, really godawful to look at what they call a Harvester...large as a Walker, but twice as wide with too many tentacles, carrying some sort of bulbous, fleshy cage on its back.”You don’t need to ponder too hard about what a creature with that kind of name would mean for Jombaral. “...how many?”There’s a pained grimace in the Clone’s voice. “Before the commander was able to reach the farms, the Harvesters already snatched a whole lot of them. At least...a hundred iterant workers. Far as anyone knows, they’re still alive in the cage, but there isn’t anything in the texts suggesting how to get them out.”Filing that away, you continue, “...what about this fungal artillery? We received reports about a possible chemical weapon.”“The gas makes you go mad, Jedi,” interjects Skipp without any warning. His breath comes labored, as if sustaining not only a sprint but a heavy burden in his arms, “It isn’t pleasant to watch, either. Doesn’t appear to mess with any bodily functions, no chemical burns or any lethal effect. It leaves the victims hysterical and more easily susceptible to be scooped up by the Harvesters.”Non-leathal? You take your hand off the ‘talk’ button, quickly considering. Ignoring the rocks thrown up at the Albatross, the Children don’t seem to be fighting a campaign of extermination. Subjugation is the most logical casus beli, and it more than fits with your vision of the Mother and her twisted form of love. Much like how she nearly ensorcelled Arotta, the agents of Jombaral would first apply the carrot before the stick.But that’s neither here nor there. All that Jombaral offers is a fate worse than death. And though she’s recently departed the planet, you’d be damned if you aren’t going to spit in the face of their twisted ‘mercy’.You issue one last command to Suzel, before you turn back to Octavia. “Receiving TRP data from the Albatross. It’ll be on screen in a handful of moments.”True to form, it does. But the information displayed, of the allied and enemy forces as well as their respective movements, paints a very dim picture for the defenders of Nest’s End.>>What should the first wave of air prioritize as their target?>Fungal Artillery, the source of the malignant spores that instill fear and paranoia.>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.>Tall Walkers, the greatest threat to the high walls of Nest’s End.
[VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]
>>4400984>Tall Walkers, the greatest threat to the high walls of Nest’s End.
>>4400984>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.The tall harvesters are dangerous, but if we take out the Kidnappers we deprive The Mother of reinforcements
>>4400984>>Fungal Artillery, the source of the malignant spores that instill fear and paranoia.Walls won't matter when the planet gets glassed.
>>4400984>>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.Free the prisoners, maybe get reinforcements
>>4400984>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.reinforcements bad, even if the spores cause chaos it's better than organized enemy troops.
>>4400984>>Fungal Artillery, the source of the malignant spores that instill fear and paranoia.
>>4400984>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.I think these are the first priority, because they tip the numbers even further against us. The second priority would be the tall walkers, because they're tearing down the walls.
>>4400984>>Jombaral Harvesters, the lumbering mounds that cage hundreds of trapped Kakari.Outnumbered, out "gunned." We need to free those lizard homies, then we can use our new numbers to take down the walkers. Also, anyone for dropping the Globus on Treezomie HQ? Only if the situation gets real dire and the droids wont shut down?
>>4400991>>4401009>>4401012>>4401018>>4401115>>4401180>>4401208>>4401236“Concentrate your fire on the Harvesters,” you order brusquely, “Prioritize the empty ones, and blow them back to the abyss they spawned. After that, try to see if you can’t find a way to target the ones without killing the trapped civilians.”“Good copy.” / “Roger.” answer Skipp and Suzel, each signing off to perform their respective tasks.The Kakari kept their promise. The insertion point for the expedition force is devoid of its stone camouflage. But from the haphazard ruin and the scattered stonework that shows up on the scanners, one of two things can be inferred. Either the shaman responsible for lifting it hadn’t nearly had enough power, or they’d been violently interrupted by something else.“Adjust your scopes and keep a sharp eye out for any hostiles,” Octavia shouts over the radio, “Switch to thermal imaging, and try not to bump into each other.”The commodore guns the throttle, taking the sheathipede up into a sharp vertical incline before diving nose-first into the great fissure in the earth. In an instant, the light of the crimson sunset over the treetops disappears, as the expedition plunges into darkness. Soon after, the rest of the expedition comes hot on your trail. And as one, their forward lights snap to life. It is the combined light of over a dozen ships, as well as the buttons and display on the dashboard, that serve as the only source of illumination in the twisting corridors of Kakarit.“One hundred meters below sea level,” you report, squinting at the radar. The signal of the Albatross isn’t all that hard to find, as is retracing the steps back to Nest’s End. “Two hundred meters...at three hundred, there’s going to be a fork in the road. Take the rightmost one.”“Acknowledged.” Octavia tilts the yoke slightly, and the shuttle responds to her maneuver.“You’ll keep going down ahead for another klick, and up until six hundred meters below sea level. Suzel said that there’s a large crystal cavern of some sort...”“Understood.”Five tense minutes pass of this exchange before light can be spotted. It isn’t the kind of light generated by a shuttle, nor the natural light of the star Kakarit orbits. It’s a familiar light, one you easily recognize. The weight of the Sunspear on your back seems to grow just a tad bit heavier, and the oblong protrusions of the sunstones press lightly into your back.“This is it,” you tell Octavia, “Home stretch. Next corridor is gonna take you right smack into the middle of the World Beneath!The commodore nods sharply, transmitting even as she accelerates towards the light, “All units, standby to engage. You will be weapons free once we clear the tunnel! Let’s show these overgrown weeds the full wrath of the Separatist Droid Army!”“Roger-roger,” answers a chorus of synthetic voices.(cont.)
The commodore’s sheathipede bursts out of the final tunnel, rocketing out of the corridor with a magnificent cloud of dust. It wobbles slightly as Octavia winces at the sudden source of light, as bright as the midday sun. “Cut your thermals and switch to visual scanners!”All the TRP data in the world couldn’t begin to describe the battle you’ve come upon. Certainly, it’s nothing that you’ve ever seen in your entire service during the Clone Wars. This isn’t a battle for resources or political ideology as much as it’s one for survival against a fate worse than death.The light of the Great Sunstone flickers ominously, stuttering as it casts light about the entirety of the cavern. Hordes of Infected Troopers and their monsters shamble forward towards Nest’s End. Peppering them from above, the Albatross brings all guns to bear, firing from ventral, dorsal and forward laser lasercannons.Down below, the sight of blaster fire immediately catches your attention (mostly by the virtue of being the only blaster fire). The trench the Clones have dug themselves into belch out a steady stream of suppressing fire to anything that gets too close to the walls. Just a bit further beyond, you can see more cobalt rounds being shot towards a Harvester.Skipp, undoubtedly.But Scrapper Squad isn’t the only ones who have taken to the field. Leading one of three groups of mounted cavalry, Prince Troxl, son of Trax-Chief, directs his host into a counter-charge against the horde. From atop his bronka mount, he lifts high a saw-toothed blade, its obsidian teeth glowing sharply with a near-painful degree. Every ferocious swing seems to carve the very air itself into glowing ribbons, and make a smoking mess out of the Infected.Interestingly enough, hurrying along the otherwise organic cavalry is a Clone trooper atop an AT-RT. That could only be Evo, liaison to the Kakari on behalf of both the Jedi and the Clones. The mechanical walker isn’t quite nearly as quick to turn as the bronka, but more than makes up in terms of firepower and acceleration.Depressing your comm., you transmit, “This is Jedi Farren Gaelle. Sorry for coming late to the party, but I brought some friends, and I really hope you left us some food.” You pause, glancing out the window towards the prince's host. “Evo, tell Prince Troxl that his friend brought more friends. Metal-without-song are enemies of the Children.”That first bit elicits a nervous chuckle from the nagai. The clones, on the other hand?“Look alive, lads!” Skipp transmits a booming laugh into the squad comm., “The Jedi came back, and he brought some tin cans along with him! I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to be outdone by a bunch of clankers!”It’s certainly an odd thing for a Jedi to be leading Separatist droids into battle. But seeing hardened clones cheering for the arrival of droid reinforcements? That’s certainly one for the books and holo-vids.(cont.)
Even as she guides the shuttle in the direction of Nest’s End, Octavia begins to analyze the battlefield. Then, with a voice as sharp as a whippet, orders: “Break off into your respective formations! Priority targets are designated as the Harvester units, but you are weapons free. Pick your targets at your own discretion, but focus on maximum yield-”The air seems to shriek as a squadron of Vulture droids rocket past the shuttle. They split off into attack vectors, grouping in threes as they strafe the Children’s position. Explosions of dirt and stone break across the field as turbolaser bolts peppers their advance. They pull up, swiftly breaking formation before the Tall Walkers can retaliate with thrown boulders or tree trunks.Close on their tails are HMP gunships, firing their ordinance into large clusters of the Infected. They don’t nearly empty their weapons, quickly descending to deposit their troop compliment. Thirty six BX-Series Droid Commandos disconnect from the ships, lifting their swords and rifles high prior to charging into battle-“Incoming!” you shout in alarm. The console beeps a frantic warning. “Hostile missile-!”The missile in question is the trunk of a tree. Perhaps not the most aerodynamic projectile, but still terrifying to meet head on. Especially when thrown by a Tall Walker.Octavia swerves, pulling the ship into a barrel-roll to avoid being clipped. The shadow of the trunk briefly passes over the cockpit, before continuing on its way to crash into a large pool of water.“You need to set us down!” you tell her, gesturing towards the capital.She actually looks insulted. “I wasn’t about to stay up here, Gaelle.” With an irritated huff, she orders the remaining transport shuttles, “Make landfall just at the front of the gates, and form a line of battle! One B2 for every three B1 droids. Droidekas will await further instruction-”Nearby, three of the Tall Walkers closest to the walls hunch over themselves, hunching and violently shuddering as if afflicted by some terrible malady. The sight of it causes Octavia to pause, frowning as she steers the shuttle for a closer look. “What the hell are they doing?”You reach out with the Force, and nearly scald yourself. There’s something within their bodies, a foreign presence that twists and molds them like earthen clay. The breath in your throat catches as you recognize the Force-signature of the Herald of Jombaral.There’s a terrible noise as the Tall Walkers rear back, mouths opening in a hellish scream as their bodies visibly contort. Mass is shifted to any and all direction, husking their thick limbs of nutrients and distributing them elsewhere. It’s an awful noise, and the sheer power of the forced mutation is enough to nearly make you sick.But it isn’t the aura of the Herald that churns your stomach as much as it is the sight of wings sprouting out the backs of the mutated Children.(cont.)
The battlefield seems to almost grind to a halt as both sides take stock of the new...creatures. The first one tests its wings with a hesitant flap. The resulting change air pressure is nearly enough to cause the shuttle to hover lightly in the wind.Albatross isn’t having any of it. They’re the first to react, coming about in a sharp turn to strafe the mutated Children with nothing short of extreme prejudice. The first one falls, cut to smoking ribbons by the hail of laserfire. But the next two, beholding the burning remains of their comrade, mimic what their fallen brother did......and they take to the air with an inhumanly beautiful grace. And scooping up fistfuls of boulders, their wings beat a fierce tempo as they soar up and into the cavern, hot on the heels of the Albatross.“They fly now!” transmits a panicked Suzel as the Albatross swerves violently to dodge the missiles. The ship wobbles perilously for a heartbeat before the nagai is able to stabilize...only to be pelted with more speeder-sized boulders.“They fly now?!” demands an unnerved Octavia as millions of plans are revised on the spot.“...they fly now,” you confirm with a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.Well, if that development didn’t just go and cock up not an insignificant part of your battle doctrine...>>Where do you want to be dropped?>At the front of the gates, to rendezvous with the Clones of Scrapper Squad. [Low danger.]>In the middle of no-man’s-land, the thickest combat with Prince Troxl. [Moderate danger.]>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.][VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>4401275>>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]
>>4401275>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]We have to nip this at the bud.
>>4401275>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]I'm unsure about this, particularly because we might encounter the Herald, but the payoff is tempting.
>>4401275>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]
>>4401275>>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]All or nothing boys. Gotta make sure enough droids survive for the droid harem.
Ah yes let us go to extreme danger to fight the enemy that made us lose an arm last time. Great plan lads
>>4401275>>In the middle of no-man’s-land, the thickest combat with Prince Troxl. [Moderate danger.]
>>4401352Hey, at least this time we can fight without arms.
>>4401352I agree, but at the same time there are too many votes for extreme danger...
>>4401275OK, I'm switching from >>4401281 to>In the middle of no-man’s-land, the thickest combat with Prince Troxl. [Moderate danger.]
>>4401275>In the middle of no-man’s-land, the thickest combat with Prince Troxl. [Moderate danger.]
>>4401275>Towards the rear of the enemy, in an attempt to outmaneuver them. [Extreme danger.]HOOOO BOY LETS KILL US AN ANGEL if Interregnum is back, how long till Clone Trooper Quest is back? ...please? you should be ashamed of that reference Kaz
>>4401275>“They fly now!” transmits a panicked Suzel as the Albatross swerves violently to dodge the missiles. The ship wobbles perilously for a heartbeat before the nagai is able to stabilize...only to be pelted with more speeder-sized boulders.>“They fly now?!” demands an unnerved Octavia as millions of plans are revised on the spot.>“...they fly now,” you confirm with a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.fuck you
>>4401278>>4401279>>4401322>>4401332>>4401358>>4401404>>4401470>>4401512>>4401530>>4401604>>4401730At the proposed plan of action you offer Octavia, the woman looks at you with the same kind of incredulity as one might regard the clinically insane. Case in point when she just bluntly asks, “Were you dropped on your head as a toddler? Because with this scheme and your hair-brained attempt to sneak onto the Globus-”“Octavia.” She pauses mid-rant, twitching only so slightly as you give her the most serious look you can muster. “Trust me.”The commodore relents with a hiss of breath and a very unladylike swear. Perhaps just a tad bit more abruptly than necessary, she jerks the yaw of the shuttle and guns the ship towards the rear line of the advancing horde.“Real hypocritical for you to have me stay behind in the capital,” she drawls over the radio as you rush towards the rear of the ship. “When you decide to deploy smack in the middle behind enemy lines. Is this another Jedi thing?”“A Jedi’s life is sacrifice,” you mutter dryly, repeating the old adage as you pull the opening latch down. Almost immediately, the interior of the ship is violently buffeted by the displacement of winds as the commodore takes a hairpin turn to avoid another projectile. “Besides, my master would have my hide if I didn’t do something as nearly reckless.”“You aren’t doing the reputation of your order any favors, Gaelle,” snarks Octavia. The hull of the ship shudders as her foot eases off the throttle, slowing to the minimum maximum safe speed for airborne deployment. It’s only for a handful of moments before the enemy can get their bearings, but five seconds are more than enough time for you to leap into the fray. “Now get the hell off my ship. I’m expecting a full report in triplicate of your foolhardy actions when this mess is over and done with.”“Yes, ma’am.”The leap itself isn’t all that troubling. A five story jump was child’s play for a Jedi of your caliber. Palming the cool grip of your lightsaber, you turn around, give a cheery wave to the stoic forms of the B2 escort guard before you walk backwards, off the ramp of the ship and into the empty space of the World Beneath.In any other circumstances, you’d say that the view was breathtaking. Devoid of the black robes of a Jedi Shadow, your descent isn’t nearly as graceful, but still slow enough for you to taken in the sights of the battle. Octavia’s sheathipede flies away, evading even more projectiles the likes of rocks and boulders. A terrific explosion rocks the hulking form of a Harvester, and the monster topples over with an earth-shattering groan.(cont.)
>>4401530>Clone Trooper QuestWe can only hope, anon.
>>4401803Alas, not nearly enough time to appreciate everything. Your internal altimeter reads three hundred meters and rapidly closing towards the ground. You cast a wistful look to the nearby pools, regretful that your dropship hadn’t been anywhere near close for an impromptu swim. Still, at the very least, the enemy only seems to have noticed your arrival, pointing up into the air or otherwise making inarticulate noises.No time like the present to emulate Master Brethon Larid and piss all over the enemy’s fun.Concentrating on the Force feels...different. It’s suddenly easier to gather power within yourself. While you never struggled or otherwise strained to reach for it, it seems that your duel with the Accuser of Pilgrims yielded more rewards than the trophy of his Sunspear. All the more power to you, in perhaps a more literal sense.But you check yourself before you can become too giddy and foolish. The newfound ease to reach for your power is a welcome addition, but one that must always be restrained. With his abilities fueled by his grief and rage, Torok had come perilously close to falling to the Dark Side. You can only train your control to prevent such a thing from happening, and pray that Master Larid had shown mercy in his Trials.With a single flick of your empty hand, you blast the impromptu LZ clear of Infected with a wave of kinetic energy. And with another thought, you reorient yourself, landing as gracefully upon your own two legs as if you’d only leapt down from a handful of feet.They stare at you agog, as if unable to believe the enemy that fell out of the sky. But only briefly before you draw your weapon.snap-hiss!The golden brilliance of your lightsaber adds to the chorus of illumination, lights against the darkness that the Children of Jombaral would into until the World Beneath. Falling into a familiar stance, you throw yourself into battle against the snarling, shambling hordes of the Children.>>Please select a lightsaber form. I will ask for lightsaber rolls after we lock-in our choice:>Form II/Makashi. [Finesse]>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]
>>4401879>>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]makashi is for dueling, no?
>>4401879>>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]Niman is good for integrating force powers into a saber fight. Much better than Makashi for a crowd.
>>4401804That is true, I’ll continue to pray daily
>>4401879>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]Well at least they don't have blasters.
>>4401879>>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]Makashi is anti-hero, Niman is all purpose.
>>4401879>Form VI, Niman. [Finesse+Resolve.]We should really fix our saber soonish maybe with alotta Arotta wink wink
>>4401881>>4401885>>4401891>>4401892>>4401900>>Please roll 2d6 + 8 Lightsaber (+3 Skill, +3 Finesse, +2 Cunning)>Best out of three.Accidentally mistook Cunning for Resolve. My bad.
Rolled 2, 4 + 8 = 14 (2d6 + 8)>>4401910bruh
Rolled 1, 6 + 8 = 15 (2d6 + 8)>>4401910Watch this shit
Rolled 4, 2 + 8 = 14 (2d6 + 8)>>4401910
Rolled 4, 6 + 8 = 18 (2d6 + 8)>>4401910
>>4401912>>4401916>>4401917At its core, Niman is an aggregation of all five lightsaber disciplines with the exception of Makashi. It incorporates the best of what each form has to offer, culminating in what appeared to be an otherwise boring, but practical technique. Success of the form has always been largely dependent on the practitioner’s intuition and creativity in combat rather than rote responses.The forms are not entirely complimentary to each other. Form VI doesn’t quite nearly place as strict a focus on bladework as much as Form II. Yet it is in this paradox that you find balance; Makashi for all the Dark Jedi you could ever come across, and Niman for the rest of the scum that would otherwise impede your duties as a Jedi Shadow.“It’s the difference between forming scenarios for strategy,” Master Larid had once said, “And forming strategy for scenarios. The eternal debate of making practice conform to theory, and vice versa, Padawan.”That particular tidbit admittedly took you a long tie before you were able to parse that one out. There isn’t anything wrong with such a straightforward application. But overly relying on pre-determined formations or stances (in the case of the Jedi) wouldn’t be ideal either. Niman is perhaps the most flexible in this regard, emphasizing moderation over aggression. Still, a common criticism has always been that the form is insufficiently demanding, especially in bladework. And you readily agree.The Force, however, more than compensated for the more lenient swordsmanship requirements. And there is no greater demonstration for this than the horde of Children shambling towards you. Interwoven between every strike of your lightsaber, your free hand is always there, following up with a series of blows with a deft application of the Force.Clusters of Infected Clones are blasted away from a simple Push. Others are yanked violently forward, stumbling over their uncoordinated limbs and into your effective strike range. Sparks dance along your fingertips as tongues of Spirit Fire leap and lick at the Children. Against greater beasts the likes of quadrupeds, all it takes is a single hand upon their bodies to Sever their connection with the Force, and the hivemind of the Children.You leap out of the way as a Tall Walker swings a gigantic trunk in your direction. Even after you spit out the dirt and grime that entered your mouth, a sour taste lingers as you sprint after it. What was it that the Herald had said?“Henceforth, for sparing the nurseries, you will be untried and uncontested should you encounter the children.”...kriff that, you think, bisecting not only the weapon, but the arm of the Tall Walker holding onto it. If this was ‘uncontested’, then you’re really, really glad that you didn’t make the deal with that conniving bastard.(cont.)
Still, that does leave the question of Master Uyer Kosa trapped in the Womb of Jombaral. There’s...the remainder of this day, and the entirety of the next for you to return to Mylar-3 within Master Larid’s deadline. If...no, when you finish trimming the weeds and kickstart the evacuation, the retrieval of the Jedi Peacekeeper will be your utmost priority.>>You have succeeded in fraying the rear guard of the Children.Across the muddy surface of no-man’s-land, Octavia’s droid expedition has fully disembarked. Lined up in a series of staggered formations, the assembled B1s and B2s slowly advance into the thick of the battle. Prince Troxl, identifiable by both his glowing sawtooth sword and bright blue scales, blows a horn to signal a withdrawal. A gap in the infantry opens for the returning cavalry, and with the Clones laying down covering fire, the bronka riders are able to organize and regroup before launching another attack.Overhead, what was supposed to be one-sided air support seems to have degenerated into a frantic dogfight. More of the mutated Tall Walkers take to the air, chasing after the Vulture Droids, HMP gunships, and the Albatross with impunity. It’s hard not to wince when one of the former is either swatted out of the air or crashes into a wayward stalactite. Worse is all the debris that comes falling down, the most concerning of which was unexploded ordinance.Of course, that leaves you, slowly being encircled by cautious Children behind the enemy’s lines. Your mission to harass or otherwise attention was a rousing success. In the distance, several of the Tall Walkers have broken away from their march to the walls, as well as the Infected underneath their legs. And are slowly bearing down upon you...You take a glance up towards the hole in the Firmament, and the roots that have violently split the stone apart. It’s an ugly wound, and the tendrils holding the gap open are even more disgusting...least of all the eyes within, the eyes of a monstrous creature just lurking beyond the light of the sunstones and your own lightsaber.Without any warning, something brushes against the edge of your mind. You turn around, flailing abruptly before you recognize the aura of Grand Shamanka Bos: Jedi, can you hear me?You almost nod, but you don’t bother holding back a sigh of relief. Yeah, I hear you! It’s good to hear from you, but try to give advance warning next time. I wasn’t aware the Communion had Telepathy as a talent.I’m terribly sorry to have frightened you, Farren. I hope you accept my appologies The words are devoid of any sarcasm, but there isn’t missing the teasing lightness in them. Her intangible voice, however, quickly take on a melancholic air. I see that you’ve returned from the Heart with renewed purpose and vigor...as well as a relic of our past.(cont.)
As well as your own fair share of questions about the nature of the Liar’s Blade. Maybe a few about the Accuser and the Herald, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. ...I’ll tell you more about it later. you promise, squinting for an exit strategy as the horde slowly consolidates. Once I get out of this mess-I would be more than willing to give you aid...but a unique opportunity has presented itself before us.You pause, frowning. And what would that entail?The monster responsible for causing the earthquake and cracking the Firmament...do you see it? It’s hard to miss, even if all that’s visible are the eyes and tendrils. At your confirmation, she continues, I dare not even think about its name, but in your tongue, it would translate to Sings-of-Splitting-Stone. It is the last of its kind, a divine beast from the time before the False Mother, corrupted into yet another one of her catspaws and slaves...A wayward glance towards the hole does little to allay your worries. Maybe the murals of the Heart had something going for them with ...and what exactly is it that you need me to do?You can imagine the grim look on the Grand Shamanka’s face as she declares, If I gather the energy in the Great Sunstone, I can attempt a mimicry of the Liar Chieftain’s deed. I will seal the breach and repair the Firmament, but only if the monster is slain or driven back. Preferably the former.As if on cue, the artificial sun overhead dims perilously, flickering and shuddering before its light refocuses on some point in the battlefield. The sheer intensity of its light causes the weaker infantry to burst into flames, not unlike an insect beneath a magnifying glass.But still, you have your hesitations. You told me that the Kakari can’t go without sunlight for at least a week.That we do, but you’ve given us back the Heart, she counters, And I hear you’ve been whispering thoughts into the prince’s mind about an evacuation from the planet...Golly gee, when she puts it like that, of course your warnings about Base Delta Zero would come off as suspicious! But even so, it seems that you have your next task. All the reinforcements in the world (which were only 400 more droids) would barely count as a pebble against the avalanche that’s the Children of Jombaral. Even as you had continued to talk, more Tall Walkers and other infected emerge from the hole, gliding down along the writhing boughs and tendrils of the monstrous beast to join their fellows’ march against Nest’s End...>>What will you do?>Break through the enemy’s line and regroup with the rest of the company. You will need everyone’s help to stop the monster.>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.>Custom option. [Write-in.][VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]
>>4402240>Break through the enemy’s line and regroup with the rest of the company. You will need everyone’s help to stop the monster.
>>4402240>>Custom option. [Write-in.]Run for the gribble but call for any available aid.
>>4402240>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.Haha Anakin killed that thing on Nelvaan alone right?
>>4402240>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.
>>4402240Watch out everyone! It's a 9/9 with Shroud! Quick, use the droids to chumpblock it! It doesn't have Trample!>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.
>>4402240>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.We could see about combining Force Sever and Force Flame together Inb4 Force Cauterization
>>4402240>Continue cutting down the children, challenging Sings-of-Splitting-Stone only when it tries to enter or act.I'm worried about being flanked by the Herald, or if Bos' barrier will kill her.
>>4402240>>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.
>>4402240>>Charge up into the hole and challenge Sings-of-Splitting-Stone so Bos can seal the Firmament. This is a task that a Jedi can accomplish alone.Farren, god bless him, seems to be pretty good at achieving the impossible.
>>4402249>>4402254>>4402268>>4402274>>4402280>>4402280>>4402292>>4402311>>4402418>>4402428>>4402434>>4402540...Sings-of-Splitting-Stone is going to be the second Force aberrant that you’re going to be fighting today. At the very least, the duel with the Accuser ended with your arm restored and your scars little more than aches and pains. Physically, you’re more than active. Mentally? A bit drained even with the additive boost to your powers.Think you can keep the rest of the Children distracted? you think, tensing as you prepare to jump over the encroaching horde.That can be arranged, she answers quietly. Long has the Communion waited for the opportunity to go to war. My disciples are very eager to take the fight to the ancient enemy.That just leaves one last group of people to let in on the know. Cycling your comm. to the company channel, you quietly say, “You guys can scold me later.” And before they have any chance to argue or otherwise demand an explanation, you lower the volume, close your eyes, and take a great leap up and over the heads of the Children.At first, they almost seem confused. In their place, you might be as well. The enemy isn’t retreating back towards Nest’s End; the madman is actually continuing to advance! It’s all they can do to otherwise swipe ineffectually at you as you flip over fallen boulders, vault across perilous stalagmites.Unfortunately, it doesn’t last as long as you like. As one, they all abruptly still as you reach the roots of Sings-of-Splitting-Stone, and the fragmented, obsidian debris of the Firmament. In your adrenaline high, you can almost hear the voice of the Herald, ordering the Children in his thousand voices.STOP HIMThe Children not only double their efforts, but abandon any and all pretense of coordination as they all rush towards you. They come as an uncoordinated mass, snarling and ravening, teeth and claws extended. Quadrupeds leap over Infected Clones and Kakari alike, even as the ground trembles as a trio of Tall Walkers draw near. And to your equal measures of amazement and horror, one of the Harvesters has completely come about, and now lumbers with all haste to the rear.You allow a second to cringe before your eyes narrow, and your determination sharpens into something just as deadly as your lightsaber’s blade. And as you reach for the Force, the ancient mantra of the Jedi Code both guides and soothes your hand:“There is no emotion, there is peace...”From the opening stance, wide with the blade held out in a one-handed grip, you sweep your ‘saber in a wide arc. As the first of the Children fall, bisected down the middle, and your hand is sharply thrust out to deliver the follow-up blow. Everything within a ten meter radius is violently blown back and away from you in an unrelenting wave of Force.(cont.)
Suddenly, your senses flare sharply, and pure instinct causes you to leap out of the way of a snarling quadruped. With a cool glare, you reach for the Force, and with a sharp tug, Pull the yelping creature off the ground, into the air, and onto the length of your lightsaber.“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge...”Even before the creature slides off, you’re quick to press the opening to your advantage. A free hand goes towards your belt, detaching a thermal detonator and depressing the primary ignition switch. It cooks in your hand for a good three seconds before you lob it towards the next wave. It flies for a single second, reaching a cluster of Infected in the last before consuming everything in a fifteen meter radius upon its detonation.Bos had mentioned that using existing flames as the source for Spirit Fire was far easier than simply conjuring them out of thin air. And though certainly short-lived, the energy and heat of a fiery explosion are more than enough to start a fire. Just before the orange flare disappears, you reach out to capture the heat, purifying it of the chemical taint, honing it with the energies of the Force...“There is no passion, there is serenity...”A great ring of fire explodes around you, blazing merrily to life just before the third wave approaches. Those unable to stop in time disappear in the flames, twisting and flailing wildly in an attempt to douse the flames. The luckier ones quickly turn to ash from the sheer heat of the Spirit Fire. But the rest wait cautiously, hesitant to approach the story-high flames out of some base survival instinct.The Tall Walkers might have an easier time of dousing them than the common infantry. But they’re still well a way’s away, and you’d vastly prefer to be gone long before them. Once you’ve prepared the emergency grapple, you take a quick running leap and soar up into the air, reaching for the first tendril of Sings-of-Splitting-Stone...>>Roll 2d6+8 Coordination (+1 Skill, +3 Finesse, +2 Force Speed/Jump)>Best out of three.
Rolled 5, 2 + 6 = 13 (2d6 + 6)>>4402745hoo boy
Rolled 4, 5 + 8 = 17 (2d6 + 8)>>4402745
Rolled 1, 5 + 8 = 14 (2d6 + 8)>>4402745
>>4402745>It’s easiest to use currently existing flame to start Spirit Fire Does our Saber count?
>>4402923That's a good question. It might be something we can work on.
>>4402934>Inb4 Lightsaber Flamethrower Or, if we can mix all of our different force techniques together >Maximum Overdrive Mode for our lightsaber that makes it hotter than a star and Force-Absorbent
>>4402939Nah. More like extended fire blade. Maybe a saber wave at max ranks.
>>4402934I've been meaning to bring up some saber modifications to capitalize on our skills with Niman. It get's a bad rap for being the weakest or most passive of the seven forms, but Exar Kun was able to combine a heavily modified lightsaber and his ability to manage his resources in battle, as well as raw skill, to be pretty much unbeatable.I'm thinking that once we fix our other saber, we make both of them dual phase and give them interlocking hilts. In battle against other force-users or against clone/stormtroopers it'll work as well as anything and the unpredictability and adaptability will serve us well against multiple force users, where Makashi might fall short.This video sums up my thinking pretty well.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUSeuFRpX4o
>>4402750>>4402752>>4402753The instant you touch the lowest tendril, the beast in the crevice stirs to violent life. A maw with far too many teeth opens, expelling a nauseous odor that reeks of the sickeningly sweet stench of rot and putrefaction. It’s nearly enough to make you gag, and tears spring to the corners of your eyes. All four of its eyes swivel in their sockets, focusing sharply upon you as you haul yourself up and over the tendril.Sings-of-Splitting Stone is a monster in every sense of the word. It isn’t all that difficult for a civilization as primitive as the Kakari to attach the moniker of the divine. It’s at least three times the size of a Tall Walker, just perhaps a little bit underneath twenty-five meters. But that isn’t accounting for its prodigious girth, easily over five tons of combined body mass.Beyond the roots that have split open the Firmament, the creature suspends itself within the breach with a horn and fist half-embedded into the ancient obsidian. Even the slightest movement causes the earth to shake and tremble, dusting the overlapping layers of its dermo-skeleton black and white. And occasionally, it beats another fist against the walls in an effort to widen the gap and allow for more reinforcements to flow.Once, it might have been a proud beast, stalking the endless sands of the planet. But after millennia of corruption and mutation, it’s little more than what Bos declaimed it to be. The best you can afford this beast is a merciful death and release from Jombaral.“There is no chaos, there is harmony...”Even with your arrival, the flow of reinforcements from above the Firmament and into Nest’s End don’t quite nearly cease. Sings-of-Splitting-Stone does not need to move or otherwise react too violently. For one, there are still hundreds of Children using him as a repelling device of sorts. And there are plenty enough of said Children to dedicate to driving you away from the breach.Deprived of the radiance of the Great Sunstone, the darkness of the breach is illuminated only by the frantic slashes of your ‘saber. The surface beneath your feet is a sinewy thing, ceding from tree trunk to jungle vine as you go further up into the hole. Hard, but not otherwise impossible for you to find purchase as the elevation sharply increases.Out of the arms of the Tall Walkers, dozens of Infected Clones and Kakari leap onto the swaying tendrils of the great monster. More often than not, they miss the landing and plummet towards the cold earth of the World Beneath. But for the odd minority that do manage to hold on and get their bearings...“There is no death, there is the Force.”You don’t need to kill the Children, per se, as much as expedite their journey back down to the World Beneath. To this end, you favor application of the Force over the might of your lightsaber. Infected and quadrupeds scatter, blown off the tendril as you rush forward and up along the monster’s limb.(cont.)
Bros is Kaz dead?!
>>4403531He does this, just chill.
>>4403531Tragic. He will be sorely missed>>4403537I think we should just get used to idea of him being dead it will be easier that way
>>4403531>>4403537>>4403552The storms knocked out the power to my neighborhood. Internet took a while to come back online. Sorry about that.
>>4403351Sings-of-Splitting-Stone twitches. It takes a deep, shuddering breath, and those tremors run up along the entire length of the breach. For a terrifying moment, the footing beneath you gives way as the tendril writhes and bucks like an unstable starship.You have no choice but to jump. But your legs barely clear the platform before another root comes to swat you out of the breech. There’s no room to dodge. In a great feat of coordination, you twist your body around, bringing your lightsaber to bear against the oncoming limb.Against the edge of your ‘saber, it stood no chance. Upon contact, the sinewy appendage is split down the middle, rent into a ruined pair of cauterized limbs. Still, the sheer force of the blow sends you flying backwards, bouncing off a wayward Tall Walker before you find purchase with the next root.The monster trembles, lifting the end of its appendage to regard with its penetrating gaze. Acidic blood weeps out of the wound, hissing as it falls on any Children unfortunate enough to be caught in the rain. But the tip of the tendril is utterly useless, limp and unresponsive.And then those eyes turn towards you, all four staring with a renewed, hostile intent.An unbidden grin curves the otherwise stern line of your mouth. “What’s the matter, big guy? Not used to your prey fighting back?”>>How will you approach Sings-of-Splitting-Stone?>Drive back the monster back, up and out of the Firmament. [Non-lethal]>Focus and go straight for the kill in the confines of the breech. [Lethal]>Provoke the monster into following you into the World Beneath. [Other][VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]Internet’s still being awfully spotty.
>>4403625>>Focus and go straight for the kill in the confines of the breech. [Lethal]
>>4403625>Focus and go straight for the kill in the confines of the breech. [Lethal]
>>4403625>>Provoke the monster into following you into the World Beneath. [Other]MMMMMMMMYSTERY BOX
>>4403625>Focus and go straight for the kill in the confines of the breech. [Lethal]She DID say to kill it.
How tall is Sings-of-Splitting-Stone?
>>4403625>Focus and go straight for the kill in the confines of the breech. [Lethal]The size of the breech only works to our advantage
>>4403692Twenty five meters. At full height and out of the breech, it be roughly as tall as pic related.
>>4403700Is the breech trying to close itself btw? Or after we kill it will it stay open? if it’s the former, can we crush it with the breech?
>>4403700And how far is it from the breach?
>>4403700While the Firmament is imbibed with some leftover holdover of the power of spirits/Force, the breach is not capable of self-repairing. Even after you kill it, it will stay open for reinforcements from the jungle to steam into the underground. Bos can’t start repairing until the source of the obstruction is no longer a threat. She’s only got one shot at it, and would rather not engage in a prolonged struggle with how Sings-of-Splitting-Stone continues to widening the breach.>>4403710It’s inside of the breach, but it’s about a dozen meters up in the hole, on top of being hundreds of meters in the air.
>>4403625>Drive back the monster back, up and out of the Firmament. [Non-lethal]Don't know why, but I'm kinda getting some Far Cry 3 Citra vibes from this...
>>4403730So there's a chance for collateral damage.
>>4403625>Provoke the monster into following you into the World Beneath. [Other]HERE WE GO
But in all seriousness, killing the beast here may well make Bos' job harder, among other things. It seems shortsighted, which we don't have time for.
>>4403625>Drive back the monster back, up and out of the Firmament. [Non-lethal]Is there anything inside this massive beast?
>>4403698Wait, I switch my vote to >>Provoke the monster into following you into the World Beneath. [Other]If we kill it in the Breech it might get stuck and keep it open
>>4403743...know what, I'll switch to [Other] as well. I'm just getting some ominous vibes from the lethal option.>Provoke the monster into following you into the World Beneath. [Other]
>>4403625>>4403809 for posterity.
I hope the others realize what killing an airborne Colossus plant entails when you're trying to seal a breach.
>>4403823Oi, you get away from my posterior
>>4403835Ay man Bos said she would prefer it dead.
>>4403866That doesn't mean we have to kill it here.
>>4403878Speed and service man come on is this your first day in retail? Step it up it should have been dead hours ago get on it bro.
If too much time hasn't passed, we might be able to stop the Conclave on Kessel from turning into the shitshow it was in the main timeline. Master Larid met Jenir on Coruscant, which means the Cleansing of New Plympto hasn't happened yet so we should have a few days, maybe a week to two to find recruit at least 8 more Jedi.
>>4403627>>4403657>>4403672>>4403684>>4403695>>4403779>>4403799>>4403809>>4403814>>4403870It’s honestly something like out of a bad holo-vid. But at the very least, the Children are consistent in how they die, in spite of the horrifying extent of their mutations. Limbs severed with a lightsaber are nearly impossible to heal. A body sliced in half will still twitch and move, and attempt to bring itself back together. From the smallest Infected to even the Tall Walkers, they are all uniformly the same in how best to approach them.But destruction of the brain is the most obvious way to destroy whatever control both the Herald and Jombaral seem to exert over them. Decapitation works just as well, but years of training have all but ingrained in you a need to not half-ass anything. Master Larid certainly wouldn’t waste time with a graceful slice when a brutal chop would do just fine.Although considering the immense size of the creature’s head, it might take several dedicated chops...Your journey up the breach continues, even as your battle against the Children intensifies with every increasing step. A descending Tall Walker takes a swipe at you, gouging deep furrows in the tendril in a wide, sweeping arc. Even as Sings-of-Splitting-Stone roars angrily, you’re already up in the air, lightsaber reaching out with a dangerous light.Fragments of the Firmament blown apart by the excavation stir to life with a single thought. The obsidian pieces answer your pull, fist-sized formations of jagged rock that swirl around your body. Twisting in the air, you carve right through the Tall Walker’s arm, and repeat the technique you’d used against the Accuser. The storm of stone slices through circulatory vine, strips bark to the green, and overall makes an entire mess out of the Tall Walker and the creatures held within its arms.Not quite like a river in the desert, you think quietly as you land on the next tendril.The instant you reach the creature’s leg, grabbing onto a piece of its dermo-skeleton, it stirs to violent life. Sings-of-Splitting-Stone rumbles lowly, a keening noise that makes your teeth ache and nearby stone tremble. Even the Children it ferries seem to quail or otherwise shrink back at the roused monster.It shudders, exhaling another foul breath of decay and rot as it moves the forelimb not embedded within the Firmament. With little more warning than an experimental flex of its fingers, it lunges towards you with an outstretched hand.Cursing, you reach for the Force, gathering power at the base of your legs. “Oh, no you don’t!” You leap out of the way, flipping forward as the monster’s fist smashes into the walls of the breach. Shrapnel goes flying, and you wince as splinter-sized fragments of stone slice into your skin. The landing on its thigh isn’t as smooth as you’d like, especially with how hard the bastard’s armor is.(cont.)
But there’s a silver lining to be had. In the brief moment of being tossed about, your lightsaber had nearly spun out of control. Its edges and tips gouge furrows into the dermo-skeleton, opening singed wounds and bleeding pools of acidic blood. At the very least, you don't have to worry about the surface getting too slippery.“Size matters not, young Farren,” a familiar voice whispers in your head. The diminutive form your mind conjures of Master Yoda seems to be smiling. “Seems it has, you and this creature have learned this of the other, hmmmm?” Rolling up and out into the first stance of Makashi, you dodge another casual swipe. No longer focused on widening the breach, Sings-of-Splitting-Stone is now focused entirely on you. The rest of the Children are forced to find alternative routes down into the World Beneath, and take a wide berth away from the beast lest they be caught in the crossfire.Perfect.>>Roll 2d6+8 Makashi [+3 Skill, +3 Finesse, +2 Cunning]>Best out of three.
Rolled 3, 2 + 8 = 13 (2d6 + 8)>>4404497How does Makashi work against bigguns?
Rolled 5, 1 + 8 = 14 (2d6 + 8)>>4404497gg
Rolled 6, 3 + 8 = 17 (2d6 + 8)>>4404497
Rolled 5, 6 + 8 = 19 (2d6 + 8)>>4404497Oh geez.
>>4404497... I just had an idea to experiment with Spirit fire and our Saber by stabbing into the top of this things’s head and just giving it a whirl
>>4404500>>4404501>>4404505You each have your own fair share of advantages and disadvantages. The creature can’t move with the full extent of its strength without dislodging itself from the Firmament and impeding the flow of reinforcements. The platforms and surfaces that you scramble up along are entirely within the control of the monster.The damned thing is faster than you’d give it credit for. And at the very least, it seems to now take a stronger measure of caution when attacking. You aren’t nearly able to inflict more than flesh wounds. The closest thing you’d gotten to severing a digit is de-clawing it with a desperate slice, and a redirection of the talons into its relatively unprotected, fleshy underside.Wielding a lightsaber against Sings-of-Splitting-Stone is both a boon and a handicap. On one hand, wounds inflicted by the blade are guaranteed to regenerate incredibly slowly. On the other, every wild gouge sends bursts of acidic blood all over the place. Try as you might, it’s impossible for you to completely dodge everything. No less than five minutes in the melee of flipping and slashing, thrusting and leaping, flects of the stuff have splattered along your robes to fumigate the breach with acrid fumes. It won’t be too long before the relatively small drops bypass cloth and cotton and eat into your own flesh.Still, for every hissing trail of smoke to emerge off your clothes, there’s at least a dozen of the lesser Children falling about in a panic as a literal rain of acid falls down upon them. A Jedi isn’t supposed to take pleasure in the suffering of other life, but you aren’t completely able to squash a dark glimmer of satisfaction.But you make a slow and steady progress, all the while dodging more tendrils and assaults by the Children. From the creature’s flank, you scale up to its abdomen, then scale up along the side of its ribcage. You’re forced to expel your grappling hook, zipping sharply up to avoid a particularly vicious swat that conjures violent gusts in the breach.I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me...It’s going to be a very close finish. Just getting close enough to the monster’s head nearly killed you in dozens of incidents. Fatigue has settled in your arms like a physical weight, and the dull, throbbing pain in the back of your head has graduated into a full-blown annoyance. Trying to get a second chance at this might very well kill you.“Nothing ventured...” you hiss, stabbing into the creature’s neck with a fragment of its claw. Acid seeps from the crack in its dermo-skeleton as you hold fast against its wild thrashing. “...nothing gained!”Twisting, you curl your body and vault upwards. It's a close call as it slams its head back into the wall in an attempt to turn you into a bloody stain. All it does is succeed in causing another localized earthquake, that serves to both dislodge Children and widen the breach.(cont.)
You offer a very sincere apology to Bos for the extra damage done to the Firmament. Hopefully she won’t scold you too harshly once you come down from the breach.Speaking of coming down...The breath is nearly knocked out of you as you crash tail-over-teakettle onto the monster’s head. Mercifully, even as the sharp bone spurs and protrusions that would prick and stab at you, they provide a solid grip for you to hang on as the creature bucks and writhes. You clench your teeth as you’re thrown wildly about like a ragdoll, formulating the blow that would see Sings-of-Splintered-Stone laid low...>>How will you make your attempt at the kill?>Amass power in your lightsaber to penetrate the dermo-skeleton and destroy its brain. [Force Weapon]>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]>Manifest flames and fire in your hand to burn the creature from the inside out. [Spirit Fire]>Custom option. [Write-in][VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]
>>4404978>>Amass power in your lightsaber to penetrate the dermo-skeleton and destroy its brain. [Force Weapon]
>>4404978>>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]We Nomi Sunrider now.Also, I had never realized how many Jedi just stayed on Coruscant after the Purge. Jax Pavan and his crew, Jin-Lo Rayce, and Even Piell just set up shop there. Hell, Sha Koon just lived under the temple for a few weeks before getting Vader'd, Zonder, Erika, and Drake Lo'gaan tried to live in the underworld, and Ferus Olin came BACK to find the Erased. Were they all just idiots?
>>4404978Can we Mystic Weapon the Saber into it’s brain? Or use Force Weapon and Mystic Weapon to blend it?Or, we’ve damaged the braincase right? Couldn’t we force push the damaged part into its brain?
>>4404978>>Manifest flames and fire in your hand to burn the creature from the inside out. [Spirit Fire]
>>4405011>Were they all just idiots?I mean the bottom layers of Coruscant have been uninhabited for something like twice as long as wooly mammoths have been extinct on earth. It's not a bad place to hide, getting out is the problem. >>4404978>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]Feels like the hardest roll but the most enjoyable update to read.
>>4404978>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]Poor guy didn't deserve to be forced into joining a hive mind as a living siege engine...Well, probably didn't, anyways.
>>4405054>I mean the bottom layers of Coruscant have been uninhabited for something like twice as long as wooly mammoths have been extinct on earth.I guess that makes two of them idiots. Evan Piell (if Kaz is running with the Coruscant Nights version of events and not TCW) pretty much tried to fight an unsupported, one-man guerrilla war and Sha Koon literally sat in the Temple's basement and waited for Vader to find her. Here's hoping Master Laird finds them first
>>4404978>Force SeverIts definitely the coolest thing
>>4405072>(if Kaz is running with the Coruscant Nights version of events and not TCWYeah don't worry, you won't find TCW here. >Here's hoping Master Laird finds them firstAlso I think Koon might be dead at this point already, Piell almost certainly is.
>>4405082Sorry, other way around. Or at least it's more likely Koon's dead than Piell. I doubt Piell can be found though.
>>4404978>Amass power in your lightsaber to penetrate the dermo-skeleton and destroy its brain. [Force Weapon]
>>4405082>Koon might be dead at this point alreadyI think you might be right. Still, Laird was inside the Temple last we saw him, and the Conclave on Kessel and Jedi-lead Battle of Kashyyyk hasn't happened yet, so there might be just enough time to talk her out of taking on a Sith lord with a pack of Cthons.
>>4404978>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]I wonder if this this was sentient before Jombaral treefucked it.
>>4404978>>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]
>>4404978>Focus your connection to the Force and Sever its connection to the Herald. [Sever Force]Any other method will let the Herald order it to kamikaze
>>4404978>Manifest flames and fire in your hand to burn the creature from the inside out. [Spirit Fire]
>>4404978>>Manifest flames and fire in your hand to burn the creature from the inside out. [Spirit Fire]I really don't want to try and get into contested Force Rolls with a Force Entity.
>>4404988>>4405011>>4405038>>4405043>>4405054>>4405064>>4405081>>4405098>>4405128>>4405152>>4405166>>4405171>>4405205>>4405259>>4405310The way is clear, the path set before you. The technique is one well practiced and refined. You need only the refined will and mental fortitude to draw enough for the power. But as you empty out the sounds of the world, all of the noises of the Children and the lumbering monster, as the sound of blaster fire and fighter engines disappear into nothingness......their screams still remain.The flow of time slows down to a crawl as you focus inwards. You can almost perceive the chain linking the monster with its fell master, a series of barbed vines constricting around its brain. The bonds are tugged, and with every movement, Sings-of-Splitting-Stone jerks along with the motion. Now, you know without a doubt that the beast is little more than a flesh puppet dancing to the will of Jombaral.Hundreds of meters in the World Beneath, the fight has taken a turn for the worst. Prince Troxl’s three great hosts have been nearly cut down by a full half. Octavia’s droid army has begun to flounder in a war of attrition against a never-ending tide of foes. Commander Skipp pulls away from the frontline, screaming for medivac as he slings the limp body of a clone over his shoulders.But worse are the defenders along the walls of Nest’s End. Great beams of fire rain down from the parapets, conjured by the handful of shaman commanded by Bos. But for every Tall Walker they strike down, or siege engine they immolate in a great fiery pillar, there are two more not so far out on the horizon.The first of the Harvesters lumbers across no-man’s-land, a bloated thing groping and slavering for more prey. What few Kakari hadn’t made it back to the safety of Nest’s End are scooped up by its limbs, torn from the arms of their loved ones, dragged screaming out of their hiding holes. The burden of flesh upon its back opens in a grotesque mockery of a flower, accepting the screaming sacrifices dropped within its depths, their fates and sanity left unknown....even as a child, your fury has always burned cool. Arotta certainly could push your buttons and drive you into the red, but it was exceedingly rare for your temper to rise above a simmer. In recent memory, however, there was one incident that comes to mind: in the Galleria of Splendor, when you nearly beat the muun technician to death for his part in Kristen’s suffering.Yet that had been only the greatest atrocity atop the suffering of the slaves. Here, in this godforsaken hellhole of the galaxy, what the Kakari have suffered for the last four thousand years is a fate you would not wish upon your worst enemy. The Herald and the False Mother he represents are no dark side entities, merely aberrations in the Force running wild and rampant.(cont.)
But the horror you felt at the fate of Acting-Commander Marcs, and the mental violation of Arotta's mind...it's perhaps even more visceral than had you simply been fighting against a Dark Jedi or the Sith. Jombaral might not be here right now, but the actions of those who carry out her will are enough to slowly set the simmering of your temper into an out-right broiling fury.>>Please choose only one of the following:>Amplify the power of your Force Sever with your righteous anger. [+10 Circumstantial Bonus, gain Dark Side Points]>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points][VOTE OPEN FOR TWO HOURS]
>>4405334>Amplify the power of your Force Sever with your righteous anger. [+10 Circumstantial Bonus, gain Dark Side Points]I'm not here to be 100% gud boi
>>4405334>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]
>>4405334>>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]
>>4405334>>Amplify the power of your Force Sever with your righteous anger. [+10 Circumstantial Bonus, gain Dark Side Points]
>>4405334I know what our best friend Kreia would want us to do. But I've always been of the opinion that there is no light and dark side of the force, only the intentions of the wielder. That being said, I don't think that Farren bears any personal ill towards Sings-of-Splitting-Stone. It is, after all, just a thrall of Jombaral. We didn't kill the technician for following orders, it would be a show of growth for us not to give in to our bad side while dealing with SoSS.>>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]
>>4405334>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]The hope is that, with the Mother gone, those who aren’t too infected can heal
>>4405374>>4405377Plus, if we Sever Stones from the Herald, I'm hoping we might get the raddest ride to pick up Master Kosa when we visit Jombaral's Womb.
>>4405334>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]We're here for a jedi test, let's do the jedi thing.
>>4405334>Amplify the power of your Force Sever with your righteous anger. [+10 Circumstantial Bonus, gain Dark Side Points]Vader hasn't gotten Galen yet haha.
>>4405334>Remain calm and tranquil as you dispassionately execute the power. [No bonus, gain Light Side Points]Teach could probably tell if we do use our anger. Save it for the Herald, at least.
>>4405383If we sever the ties that bind it'll probably drop like a rock.
>>4405344>>4405353>>4405354>>4405357>>4405374>>4405377>>4405397>>4405402>>4405416>>4405426>>4405431>>You have gained Light Side points....they say that the path to the Dark Side is one that starts with good intentions. Letting your link with the Force sup on your rage would be the start of a first step down a very, very slippery slope. At least, that's what Master Larid says.But Sings-of-Splitting-Stone is no more of a willing participant than the brainwashed Clones and victimized Kakari. If there is perhaps one instance where you will let your fury guide your hand, then it will be against the Herald of Jombaral...or the False Mother herself.The flow of time begins to resume its steady pace as you reach for the power."...I am one with the Force," you whisper, "And the Force is with me..."One of the great, green eyes twists and swivels to stare up at you, unblinking and wide. There is little in them beyond the frustration and rage of the Herald of Jombaral. But what isn't the former shaman is something else..."...this is going to hurt you more than me. Apologies in advance."Your mind is a blade, a keen edge that pierces through any and all darkness and deception. And you bring it to bear against the mental shackles, a burning edge that strikes hard and true at the strings jerking Sings-of-Splitting-Stone...>>Roll 2d10 + 9 Sever Force (+3 Will, +5 Alter Affinity, +1 Skill]>Best out of three.
Rolled 8, 4 + 9 = 21 (2d10 + 9)>>4405547
Rolled 6, 5 + 9 = 20 (2d10 + 9)>>4405547I'm not sure I've got the dice down correctly, but here goes...
Rolled 9, 9 + 9 = 27 (2d10 + 9)>>4405547
>>4405555>quads and rolled trips
>>4405555it has been witnessed
>>4405555RIDE ETERNAL, SHINY AND CHROME
>>4405555Wait... you rolled: Singles, Dubs, Trips, and Quads all in one postPRAISE BE
>>4405555NINE NINE NINE
>>4405555If you get dubs, trips and quads in the same post, does it count as quints?
>>4405662Nah, my man got a straight flush
>>4405555My god anon....
>>4405555This manon has rolled something not meant for human eyes
>>4405555Well shit, I didn't even notice what I'd gotten
>>4405555The match is struck. A blazing star is born!
Okay, I'm back. Finished my weekly Mass Effect DnD session with the lads. En route to Omega, the party crashed their shuttle head-long into a damaged Geth corvette as it was attacking a civilian freighter. After an intense firefight, they then proceeded to steal everything that wasn't otherwise nailed down. The resident quarian took a few points in renegade when she gained admin privileges and promptly deleted all of the Geth programs.There was only one survivor of the freighter, a frightened asari child who kept tearfully asking for mommy and daddy. Upon being told that they were "with the Goddess", she became fearful and asked if her human father was with the Goddess as well, because her dad's family said he was going to hell for marrying her mother. Not the most comfortable discussion to have at 2 AM EST in the morning.Finally, a recently liberated member of a fundamentalist, religious cult in the Terminus learned about the culture of "the Churches of Asia" after the turian pilot introduced him to the wider world of gunpla. Until further notice, the sheltered soul does not have extranet privileges, but the party is (dreading) looking forward to taking him to Omega. Lap dances may or may not involved.Writing...
>>4407192Kickass, sounds like a lot of fun
>>4405549>>4405550>>4405555NO-!The raging, hate-filled voice of the Herald is violently cut off as you Sever the shackles binding Sings-of-Splitting-Stone. Its voice persists only as an echo, fading away as the conceptual tendrils burn into nothingness. The links back to the abomination thrash wildly, frantically reaching back towards its puppet before they disappear out of the breach, into the stone, to wherever the coward is hiding itself.Not even one second after the act, the great beast shudders. Green eyes once clouded over suddenly pull into sharp focus. With the presence of the Herald no longer draping the beast, you feel...something. It’s faint, but you feel the stirrings of some faint, animalistic emotions. They bubble to the forefront of its mind-Confusion.iPain.Apprehension.Loss.Understanding.Horror.Loneliness.Rage.Sorrow.Anger.Despair.HATE.Suddenly, it rears its head back, and unleashes a deep, pained, bellowing roar the likes of which you’ve never heard before. Instinct overrides years of discipline and training, and causes you to clap your hands to your ears. Something within you breaks and what you suspect to be blood starts to drip down and out of your ears.Judging from how the damned creature’s roar suddenly became muted, your eardrums have definitely ruptured. Nothing that a few weeks of rest or a dunk in a bacta tank won’t heal. But those luxuries are a very long time away from you.The sight of the Children having similar reactions is a mild balm at the pain, but relief nonetheless. Tall Walkers and Infected Clones, Fungal Artillery and Harvesters alike all react in the same visceral reaction. All of their orders to deploy into Nest’s End are completely ignored. They scream and howl in a disjointed chorus, not quite nearly matching up with the pained bellows of Sings-of-Splitting-Stone.Without any warning, the creature tears itself from out of the breach, pulling horn and hand from the ancient obsidian. It whips its body violently around, smashing into the Children with shocking brutality. Even as acidic blood eats into its demo-skeleton, it doesn’t care about the damage or the pain. One talon after vine-like appendage, it scrambles up the walls of the breach, crushing any and all in its wake to escape....this leaves you in the rather unenviable position of being flung off the monster. The grip afforded to you by your grappling hook to attached to the bucking creature is more a liability than a bon. Hurriedly, you disconnect the line, only to be smacked by a wayward tendril and tossed like a rag doll into the empty air of the breach.But as you flip and careen wildly, bouncing at random vectors and angles off a myriad assortment of Children, the distant form of Sings-of-Splitting-Stones draws further and further away...(cont.)
>>You have successfully Severed the connection between Sings-of-Splitting-Stones and the Herald of Jombaral.>>Deprived of their primary means of transport down to the World Beneath, the Children of Jombaral’s flow of reinforcements has been stopped.>>However, the defenders of Nest’s End are still in great peril. Now, you must rejoin the fight!As you clear the breach, a familiar presence brushes against the barriers of your mind. This time, you don’t resist, grinning as you welcome the mind of Bos into your mind.Not quite what I was expecting, muses the voice of the Shamanka. To your own concern, you detect just the faintest measure of strain in her voice, but it’s almost entirely masked by the emotion of triumph in her voice. But it seems that you have a knack of doing the unexpected. Is this a feature of the Jedi, or are you merely the exception that proves the rule, Farren?Honestly, I don’t know myself, you confess, But I’d like to think it’s the product of a good upbringing.Hmph. Please remind me to send something nice to your master. She pauses, as if gathering her thoughts, then continues, You’ve done the Kakari a great deed. Now, leave the rest of the breach to me and my apprentices. You’re sorely needed on the battlefield, Jedi.Deprived of their flow of reinforcements, the Children on the ground fight with a reckless desperation. They walk willingly into torrents of blaster fire, hoping to overwhelm the clones and droids with the sheer mass of bodies. Flyer-types maneuver to crash into air support units in suicide attacks. Prince Troxl’s cavalry has been forced to retreat underneath a hail of Spirit Fire from the spires of Nest’s End.Bos chuckles, as if sensing your worry, Don’t worry, the situation is... There’s a grunt on the other end of the line, synched almost in time with how a sprinting trio of Tall Walkers leaps and jumps towards the outer walls of Nest’s End. It stretches its limbs, gripping the top of a parapet to begin tearing the fortification apart, piece by piece, stone-by stone. One of them sweeps the walls, knocking defenders back or over the walls, screaming all the way down to the ground....hold on a moment.You blink and nearly miss it. A brilliant corona of light erupts from a solitary figure on the fortress, dousing the Tall Walkers in an unrelenting confluence of Force. They burst into flames, but continue their grim work as their limbs begin to shrivel and char. By the time they collapse into a pile of smoldering ash, they’ve only stripped a third of the upper layer on a section of the wall.My apologies, says Bos, who doesn’t quite nearly sound as apologetic as she should, But as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the situation is not irreversible. The friends you've brought have certainly helped turn the tide of battle.(cont.)
>>4407527>the distant form of Sings-of-Splitting-Stones draws further and further away...Aww, I was we'd get to be the Toshio to Stone's Gamera...
>>4407553You nod almost reflexively. I’ll see what I can do to help. In your peripheral, you notice the sleek, black form of an HMP droid gunship barreling towards you at high speed. Months ago, you might have panicked or flinched at the sight. Although what comes after certainly causes your insides to knot.“You will stay right the hell there, Jedi,” hisses the angry, clipped voice of Commodore Octavia Pullo Mercantor over the comm. There’s an audible steel in her tone that demands absolute obedience, “Heaven help you if you don’t wait for my droid to come pick you up.”There’s not exactly anywhere for you to go, caught as you are in a freefall. But you decide to hold off on the snark, and radio back, “Understood.”Bos cackles at the exchange. Fiery one, that woman is. She nearly pulled a weapon against one of Prince Troxl’s peerage for daring to assume command over her legion of Metal-Without-Song.Even as you blanche at the breach of diplomacy, you can’t help but think that Octavia’s response wasn’t entirely unwarranted. In her place, you might have acted the same way, although perhaps without the imminent threat of death...maybe.The HMP droid barely slows down as it comes about underneath you. In the underside of its belly where it might have stored commando droids, you send out your grappling line and hook fast into an empty seat. You barely have a second to get adjusted before the droid gooses its thrusters, fleeing as every flyer-type converges on your location.But you aren’t alone. A squadron of Vulture droids converges on your location, streaking in to pepper the flyer-types with a barrage of lasercannon fire. So wholly focused on you, they don’t notice the threat until it’s far too late. The survivors split off, and the Vulture droids break off, seeking their own targets or shooting at Tall Walkers before they mutate into more flyer-types.Earlier, you were only halfway joking about kissing Octavia for her help. Now? You aren't so sure anymore.There are already those who would proclaim you the Liar Chieftain reborn in a warm-blood body, Bos thinks dryly, much to your unease. That discomfort quickly turns to horror as she adds, Be wary of marriage proposals or otherwise accepting any sacrifices in your name upon your return to Nest’s End.Wait, Bos? you panic, That’s a joke, right? The heat of the battle’s gotten to you, and you’re coping by making jokes at my expense-The Grand Shamanka merely cackles as she pulls away from your mind.>>Where do you want the droid to drop you off?>At the front of the battle, joining the ranks of the droid army and thick of the fight.>To the walls of Nest’s End, where Prince Troxl leads a struggling defense.>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.[VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]>>4407598That comes later.
>>4407607>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.
>>4407607>>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.
>>4407607>At the front of the battle, joining the ranks of the droid army and thick of the fight.It sounds cold, but the faster we kill the brunt of it the faster we can mop up what remains, and iirc if the big monster is gone from the breach then there’s no way for the Enemy to exit meaning the Kidnappers can’t leave Also>Be wary of marriage proposals>Inb4 Arotta wakes up right when we’ve got a crowd of Lizard Lasses trying to marry us>Instinct to protect her mate from all challengers takes over
>>4407607>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.At first I wanted to secure Nest's End so everyone had a place to fall back into, but on second thought making the clones available will help with that. We could potentially hammer-and-anvil the Children at the walls.
>>4407607>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.It's been a while since we hung out with the clones.>spoilerPic related
>>4407607>At the front of the battle, joining the ranks of the droid army and thick of the fight.
>>4407607>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.The Harvesters are in the rear, yes?
>>4407607>>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters.Bos can help with the Prince's defense and once we're done with helping the clones, we might be able to send the clones to one group and ourselves to the other.
>>4407607>>With the clones and Commander Skipp, attempting rescue ops from the Harvesters
>>4407617>>4407620>>4407635>>4407640>>4407652>>4407715>>4407774>>4407835>>4407843 “Scrapper Squad, heads up!” you shout into the comm. as the gunship banks sharply in compliance with your order, “I’m en route to provide close support for the rescue operations. Pop a smoke at your location for rendezvous, and be advised of a gunship coming in for a hot landing!”“We read you loud and clear, Jedi!” answers Skipp. His channel is cluttered with blaster fire and the screams of the Children, but his voice still rings true. “We’ll do our best to save some of the infected for your arrival.”In an ironic twist, the boulders that the Tall Walkers and areal-types have lobbed across the World Beneath work more to the clones’ advantage than they do for the Children. It’s no longer quite an open flatland, save for a handful of inclines and bodies of water. There are dozens of AT-TE-sized boulders haphazardly scattered around the World Beneath, and the clones have more than seized the opportunity to put them to good use.Five sets of white armor duck into trenches, fire around corners, provide suppressing fire as they advance from one cover to another in successive leaps and bounds. At times, they split up, flanking an enemy to catch them in a pincer maneuver. Other times, against a shambling horde, they form a single line of fire and send a maelstrom of blue bolts into the amassing horde.The only thing tempering their performance is the Children’s inability to otherwise shoot back. Still, what the enemy lacks in technological advancement, they more than make up for in sheer numbers. This fact, however, doesn’t seem to bother the Clones in the slightest, and they fight on in spite of the overwhelming odds against them.Orange smoke marks the landing zone, a rock formation only a dozen or so meters away from a Harvester. Scrapper Squad’s taken up an elevated position, raining blaster rounds down the hill. As far as you can see from the distance, their plan seems to be to wait for the Harvester to come and pass, and then rappel onto the behemoth.But until then, they have to contend with the literal hundreds of Infected, quadrupeds and Tall Walkers marching on their position.“Suppressing!” roars Stye, before a great jet of fire roar into a gathering of Children. The Blaze Trooper wastes no time, igniting his jetpack to rocket out of the inferno. An entire hillside and its occupants are immediately consumed by liquid flame. “You’re all clear, commander!”“Acknowledged!” Skipp shouts. From one of his soldiers, he produces a rocket launcher, and takes firm aim away from the monsters...specifically to a cluster of stalactites and stalagmites. “Backblast clear?""CLEAR!" shout three other clones."Firing for effect!”(cont.)
The World Beneath almost seems to shudder at the force of the explosive. Millennia-old crystal growths and stone formations shudder violently, trembling as hairline cracks run up along them like an intricate lattice web. When the first one falls, at least thirty meters high, it collapses with a terrible groan and crushes a Tall Walker and dozens beneath it.But it isn’t the only one. Even as the Tall Walkers try to shield the smaller Children, or as quadrupeds and Infected try to charge back up the hill, a secondary effect of the detonation occurs. It starts with a small pebble, rolling down the hill, and then the very earth itself seems to shake as the rest follows shortly after.The Clones let out a ragged cheer, whooping as boulders and stone bound down the hill. With a sound like rumbling thunder, the rock slide cascades down the incline with an almost preternatural fury. What Children aren’t burning attempt a hasty escape, only to be dragged underneath the stone by its sheer mass. It lasts only for a few moments, but once the dust settles and the earth stops rumbling, the entire hillside has changed. And the hundreds of Children lay buried under several dozen tons of rubble. What few that manage to dig themselves out, struggling quadrupeds and Tall Walkers, are quickly dispatched by a missile barrage of the HMP.“The droid army will not be outdone by the likes of clones,” the gunship seems to grumble as it crests the top of the hill. It hovers above Scrapper Squad for as long as you need to dismount and leap down. “Allied or not.”...you file that particular tidbit away for later as you sprint towards the other side of the hill. Skipp meets you halfway, all the while slotting another rocket into the smoking launcher. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Gaelle! Gave all of us a scare when you went up into the hole.”“Wasn't all that bad,” you answer, joining his sprint back to the rest of the squad. “Mercantor probably made it out worse than it was. But I see that you haven’t been wasting any time.”You can hear the savage grin in his voice. "The boys and I’ve been meaning to give the weeds some payback for the hell they put us through.”You don’t doubt that in the slightest. But there’s still something that needs to be addressed as you idle up to the rest of the squad. “I know you sent Evo to Prince Troxl and Trykov to the Albatross. Are you missing someone else?”The clones stiffen, hesitantly turning towards Commander SKipp. There’s a palpable anger in his voice, a fury that goes beyond the animosity between professional enemies. His rage is personal: “Cooper, he...he took a bad hit trying to get a family out of a mushroom paddy. Fungal shell took his arm clean off by the elbow, before blowing up and taking a leg as well.”(cont.)
The image of the ordinance specialist, smiling as he handed you a bowl of stew, comes and goes before your mind. You aren’t completely able to suppress a grimace, or the tighter grip on your lightsaber. “What’s his condition?”“Barely clinging to life,” Oann reports grimly, identifiable by the red cross painted onto the side of his helmet, “Even before I applied tourniquets, he lost a whole lot of blood. The best we could do is medivac him back to Nest’s End and get him started on a blood transfusion.”With the immediate threat of the Children buried, there’s an awkward silence that settles about the hill. But Skipp rouses himself, shaking his head as if to ward off a bad omen. “Come on, then, lads. He’d not want us to mope about.” There’s still anger in his voice, but it’s clipped and restrained behind years of professionalism. "Get into position. Hurry!">>Line BreakAs the beast approaches, with every step causing the earth to shudder, all helmets turn towards you. “What’s the plan then, sir?”>>How will you approach the Harvester?>Focus on its legs first, render it immobile before attempting a rescue of the Kakari prisoners.>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.>Custom option. [Write-in][VOTE OPEN FOR THREE HOURS]Going to church, be back in a moment.
>>4408078>>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.Pray for Cooper and our chances, boss man.
>>4408078>Focus on its legs first, render it immobile before attempting a rescue of the Kakari prisoners.Why do you go to church at light like some kind of pentacostal?
>>4408078>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.
>>4408078>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.Let’s save us some Lizardgirls
>>4408078>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.Hostages first, then we blow it up.
>>4408078>Burn the Harvester brains in with Spirit Fire.Hopefully that cuts the mind network goop connection faster than physical removal.Also, how is Gaelle hearing anything on comms right now? What about his eardrums?
>>4408191Ah, whoops. Knew something was off about the draft before I went out. Continuity, my old foe...Both are injured, but one's still in relatively good condition.
>>4408341So then, is this a good time to tell you that you're still missing Force Entities 1 from our skill list, or did we just roll that into our Lore skill?
>>4408341Nobody tell him he flip-flops on his spellings of Farren and Gaelle almost every post.
>>4408384I haven't noticed that. How else have they been spelled?
>>4408360Yeah, I did notice that an hour after I posted the character sheet. I could've sworn that I posted the character sheet from an updated document/draft, but I guess that I snagged the wrong one in my files. Whoops.>>4408384Wait, really??
>>4408417>Wait, really??Yeah totally.
>>4408428>flip-flops almost every postI found one misspelling of the name "Farren."In the first thread.Lying is a sin, anon.
>>4408078>>Prioritize rescue, and leap onto the monster’s back to force your way into the arboreal prison.
>>4408085>>4408088>>4408099>>4408143>>4408147>>4408536Skywalker, Force preserve him wherever he is, once wrote to you about a titanic life-form he’d encountered on Malastare early on during the Clone Wars. The native Dugs refered to it as a “Zillo Beast”, a primordial monster with plate-like armor impervious to even lightsaber strikes. It was a tall thing, easily dwarfing Sings-of-Splitting-Stone even if it didn’t nearly have the necessary muscle mass of the enslaved beast.The Harvester is not nearly even half as tall, but that wouldn’t stop the citizens of Coruscant from panicking all the same if such a creature had been brought to the capital of the Republic. And come to think of it, who’s bright idea was it to take a titanic creature with neigh-impervious armor all the way to the most densely-populated planet in the Core Worlds? Master Larid nearly had kittens when he’d read the aftermath of its rampage.But, you digress. The Zillo Beast is dead, Coruscant is thousands of light-years away, and Skywalker’s fate is just as ambiguous as any Jedi’s at the moment. There’s only the Harvester, yourself, and five Clones in the ass-end of the Outer Rim about to do something really, really stupid.“Turtle” is the closes thing that comes to mind when looking at one. Malformed, most definitely, and given life through fiendish and abhorrent design, but a turtle, nonetheless. It has the shell, the four limbs and head that protrude out of it, as well even a (comparatively) small tail that drags along the ground.The most glaring difference beyond bark-like flesh and acidic blood is the tumor-like growth upon its back. Encased in a cocoon of moss and branches, the fleshy structure sways with every lumbering step, ensuring that the towering weight is distributed equally across its center of gravity. Worryingly, the interior of the monster seems to glow with the same preternatural light within the Herald’s body...Its vines probe the surrounding land searching and snapping at any potential prey. They aren’t nearly high enough to reach the top of the hill, but you aren’t taking any chances. The Clones popped what smoke grenades they had; the hill’s completely covered in a thick soup of white-grey clouds.“Grappling hooks at the ready, brothers,” orders Skipp as the Harvester draws closer. The rubble along the hill visibly jolts and trembles with every single step. “Stay with your battle-buddy, and we’ll all be eating sniztrix stew after all this nonsense is said and done with.”That elicits a tense chuckle from the squad. But the moment quickly ends as the Harvester rounds the edge of the hillock. It raises a tentative head, as if tasting the air with a bough-like tongue. And in that moment of hesitation, before it can send out its vines-“Grenades out!”(cont.)
>>4409980>Master Larid nearly had kittensexcuse me!?I just imagined Larid having a catgirl harem
>>4409980As a single unit, the Clones rear back, winding up to throw a combined total of five fragmentation grenades towards the Harvester. The Force aids their flight, directing them up and down the length of the creature for best effect. They explode in a somewhat subdued fashion. You’re far more accustomed to thermal detonators, but you aren’t about to throw that while there’s still hostages that need extracting. Still, there isn’t any denying the effect they have, even if the fragments only do admittedly surface damage.The Harvester groans, shuddering as the explosions halt it completely within its tracks. It sways perilously, struggling to stay balanced at the sudden change in balance. The bulk of its tendrils reach around to the other side as it nearly tips, pushing against the ground with all the strength they can muster.“Now!” Skipp shouts, aiming for a point high up on the maleficent structure. “Grapples out!”By virtue of his heavy jetpack, Stye doesn’t need a grappling hook. Thus, the Blaze Trooper carries you over as the other clones rappel and swing onto the Harvester. Admittedly not most dignified look.Scrapper Squad lands with little fanfare, retracting their grapples and sweeping the LZ. You leap off of Stye, igniting your lightsaber. The surface of the Harvester’s skin is covered in thick lichens and moss, all slick with accumulated moisture. Everyone has to be careful, lest they slip and break their neck on the long way down.Suddenly, the Harvester trembles as it regains equilibrium. It heaves and groans as the branches shove against the ground. Roppock warns, “Hold on, the monster’s coming back down!”By some miracle, the force of its slam doesn’t knock you nearly clean off the beast. But in that quick moment of everyone regaining their balance or otherwise stumbling out of a panicked grip, the tendrils come back. The whip out sharply, keening and screeching as they reach for the nearest clone.“Oh, no you don’t!” A great length of Spirit Fire lashes from out of your hand, scalding the air and the space behind the Clones. What prehensile limbs aren’t set ablaze are sliced off by your lightsaber, left to thrash ineffectively in the air. “Your fight’s with me, big guy!”You punctuate your claim with a stab into its flesh. At it penetrates, there’s some small mercy that the creature doesn’t have the Zillo Beast’s resistance to lightsabers. But the Harvester twists its head in your direction. And as one, all of the vines converge on you. “I’ll keep them busy, now go!” you shout to the Clones. “Watch your footing and make sure you don’t get yourselves caught!”Scrapper Squad obeys without question. And as they begin to scramble, rappel or otherwise blast off towards the top of the structure, you find yourself fighting off a veritable storm of thorny branches and thrashing vines...>>Roll 2d6+8 Niman [+3 Skill, +3 Finesse, +3 Cunning]>Best out of three.
Rolled 6, 3 + 8 = 17 (2d6 + 8)>>4410001Time for some landscaping.
Rolled 6, 2 + 8 = 16 (2d6 + 8)>>4410001Didn't think we'd get an update tonight. Hell yeah!We should practice our Niman once we're done here in space nam. We're gonna be fighting more clones than force users. Make best friend Kriea happy with our mastery of the uber-balanced form.
Rolled 3, 6 + 8 = 17 (2d6 + 8)>>4410001I am made of failure.
Rolled 3, 4 + 8 = 15 (2d6 + 8)>>4410001This is for the Superior Torgruta Waifu A-Lotta Bash-Her
>>4410013>caring about what kreia thinksBitch woulda killed the entire galaxy in her faux-philosophic crusade.
>>4410017>a lotta basher???
>>4410019I want Farren to be able to fight like Exar Kun or Kao Cen Darach. Kriea deeming us wise enough to warrant her continuing to give us advice is a bonus.>>4410020Gud try Anon
>>4410019Well yeah. How else are we gunna learn bullshit force abilities and shit thats been lost for like 5000 years?
>>4410042Nigga you ever read a book?
>>4410023Arotta Bashur sounds sorta like “A lotta Bash her”, at least to my ears
>>4410026I would love to become a Dread Pirate Roberts in Star Wars rip off while cruising around with the Rebellion>>4410001Oh and I forgot, did we ever bring up Order 66 with the clones? That feels like something we should bring up while we’re nice and close with our sabers out
>>4410066You did, last thread. One of the first things that came up was laying all the cards on the table with Skipp and expressing sympathies about being used as tools of the Sith.
>>4410066Me too, man. Niman masters are certified badasses, every damn one of them. And if we mod our sabers with dual-phase bits and slap interlocking hilt bits on the bottom? We've got a nice bag full of tricks to fuck shit up no matter the situation.
>>4410070Honestly, I like the idea for our sabers being dual phase, but I really could not care less about an interlocking hilt I’d rather find or make one of those dumbass helicopter hilts the inquisition uses and those are retardedWhat about one of those Hand Knifes the ARCs have? The ones where the blade is above the knuckle? I bet they’d be amazing when you need to break a Saberlock by punching someone in the face
>>4410007>>4410013>>4410014You give as good as you can get, possibly even more. The thorny tendrils scratch at your skin, and there’s no denying the bruising and potentially cracked bones. But with every branch sundered and vine burned to ash, not unlike your fight against Sings-of-Splitting-Stone, you deprive the Harvester of its ability to regenerate and slowly whittle down its available proxies.As you give your impromptu landscaping, the Clones continue their trek up the structure. The only defenses the growth has beyond the branches are its impassive surfaces and coiling handholds. There isn’t a single Clone that doesn’t slip or otherwise struggle to get up the pulsating organ.Stye, of course, is exempt from this difficulty. The Blaze Trooper rockets atop the growth and, with little in the way of fanfare, begin to rip and tear at the coverings. He curses as acidic blood begins to chip away at the paint of his armor. “Oh, by all means. Take your time and enjoy the view, why don’t you?”“Cut the chatter,” Skipp rebukes him. The commander is second to reach the top, sheathing the knife that aided his ascent. From his backpack, he produces a series of plastic explosives. “Courtesy of Cooper. Sit tight, because I’m about to blow this thing’s back wide open.”It’s a sentiment the Clones can get behind. Skipp works quickly, peeling back adhesive and sticking them along the edge tightly-sealed dome. No less than five seconds pass before he jumps onto Stye, and orders the Blaze Trooper to rocket away.“Brace yourselves!” he shouts as he depresses the plunger of the remote detonator.The top of the fleshy prison comes off with a magnificent BANG, pin-wheeling into the air like a demented, lopsided discus. The poor clones hooked fast into its hide are tossed about like ragdolls from the force of the explosion. It’s all they can do to keep from colliding into each other.The Harvester stops, shuddering violently as the flaming organ twitches and spasms, its petals and branches shriveling in the heat. The vines and branches seem to suddenly lose their color. They are slower to react and catch you off guard. Countering them becomes easier, and you can dodge tightly out of the way.“Can you see the Kakari?!” you shout to Scrapper Squad.Stye has to land atop the structure. Its limp bark and charred petal coverings offer no resistance as the Blaze Trooper pries it as wide open as it can. “I have eyes on the civilians! They’re-” He gags over the come. “...sir, it’s a stomach! It’s...the dar'yaim-spawn's melting them down, one by-!”Even before he can finish that grisly revelation, one that makes your heart clench, Skipp stabs his grappling hook into the Harvester. The commander rappels furiously down into the opening, uncaring of the acidic blood that sprays against his armor. And there’s a fearful speed that lends speed to the remaining Clones’ ascent up the organ.(cont.)
>>4410074Why no love for the interlocking hilt? We have a saberstaff master that can train us up, the quick switches we can make between staff, dual, and single will throw off opponents, and Niman is the form that works with anything. I kinda think that a we as a shadow should have a tool for every occasion, and an interlocking hilt is an easy to get there.
>>4410078Cal is a cuck.
>>4410075Suddenly, the surface beneath you trembles. There is a sound like overhead lighting as the bark beneath splits into several dozen cracks. And from these cracks emerge new vines and branches, growing at an even faster rate than you’ve ever seen before.You clench your teeth, blasting the tendrils before they can grow too large, or otherwise slicing the branches into ineffective stubs. But you can’t nearly catch them all. To the Clones, you call, “ETA to full evacuation?!”The first to come out is a child, a frightened Kakari that comes no higher than your midsection. The fumes have nearly destroyed its clothes, and its eyelids are droopy from oxygen deprivation. Skipp’s torso barely clears the opening as he hands the child off to the closest Clone, before diving back down once more. He’s shortly followed by at least one of them, most likely Roppock from how pristine the trooper’s armor is. Oann peers into the opening, blanching at whatever hell he sees below. “Be advised, that might take a while. Maybe quicker if Stye wants to come down, but we’re looking at several dozen here that haven’t been...processed.”Much as you’d like to go up there yourself, there’s no feasible way for you to do it without leaving the Clones exposed to the rapidly-growing appendages. It seems that the Harvester’s abandoning what you damaged in favor for growing them wholesale out of its body. How lovely.“We still need something to exfil them with!” grouses Stye as he widens the opening. From Roppock, he picks up a Kakari from the scruff of its neck, slinging it over his shoulders like a sack of vegetables. “I don’t nearly have enough fuel to make enough trips to Nest’s End and back-””That can be easily arranged,” demurs a familiar voice into your good ear.You can’t help but grin. “Octavia!”“The tab of battle droids you owe me keeps piling up, Jedi,” the Separatist commodore threatens you over the comms. “The damned trees smashed a whole lot of good soldiers. I already knew that several of sheathipede’s we brought were gonna go back to the Globus empty. Might as well put them to good use.”Skipp breaks protocol by transmitting a scathing, sardonic laugh. “I thought it would’ve been a cold day in hell before I found myself working side-by-side with a seppie. This day just keeps on turning out to be full of surprises.”“Hell happens to be frozen over in my planet’s predominant religion,” she dryly answers, “So there’s your answer, clone.” To you, she remarks, “I’m sending out what I can. The skies still aren’t clear, but that crew of yours is doing a good enough job as support for my Vulture droids.”Support, huh?(cont.)
>>4410095Who said anything about Cal? He's not even an adult yet, he has nothing on us.Legends!Ventress is a much cooler interlocking hilt user.Hell, so is Komari Vosa, and nobody likes Komari Vosa.
>>4410107In the distance, you watch with mild amusement as Suzel takes the Albatross into a maneuver you most certainly didn’t teach or approve of. The E9 corkscrews wildly on an axis, dodging a pair of flyer-types as it weaves through an overhead stalactite formation. Manning the ventral and dorsal turrets are B-33 and Trykov, blasting the stones off their perches to fall down on the advancing horde below.First the HMP droid, then the commodore herself. It seems that the competitive nature of this particular branch of the Separatist army goes all the way up to the top, jumping from circuit-board to flesh and blood.Unperturbed, Octavia continues, “The shuttles will be there in about sixty seconds, one every thirty. They can’t stay stationary for long, but they’ll be rotating quick enough to get you, your clones and the natives back as efficiently as possible.”“Roger, roger,” you confirm as you leap back into the wild frenzy of twisting branches and shrieking vines. Transmitting one last time before the melee thickens, you call to Skipp, “Exfil shuttles coming in sixty seconds!”"Acknowledged!" all Clones shout back, already on their sixth, seventh and eighth civilians.>>Roll 2d6+8 Niman (+3 Skill, +3 Finesse, +2 Cunning)>Best out of three.
Rolled 1, 4 + 8 = 13 (2d6 + 8)>>4410115well, a stomach is better than I was expecting
Rolled 1, 6 + 8 = 15 (2d6 + 8)>>4410115A plague upon Jombaral and her coconspirators.
oh god why
Rolled 5, 2 + 8 = 15 (2d6 + 8)>>4410115
>>4410078im just so tired of all the creative minmaxing lightsabershit
>>4410078I just don’t like it, it seems overly gimmicky even for wacky Saber stuff don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to throw a shitfit like buddy did in thread 1 about Best Girl, I just don’t like interlocking hilts I wouldn’t mind getting some kind of stud/horn for the hilt though, for when we need to beat a fool>>4410120>>4410125>>4410116OH BOY>>4410134I can get that
>>4410136You mean a pommel?
>>4410139Yes, that’s the word, maybe even one we can detach and throw like pommels are supposed to
>>4410116>>4410120>>4410125This time, you aren’t nearly able to escape as unscathed. The Harvester demonstrates a cunning trick with its thorns, firing them off its branches as anti-personnel munitions. Your skills with a lightsaber aren’t nearly enough to block them all, and you only use the Force to blast them away from critical areas the likes of your throat and face.By the time the melee ends, you’ve got at least a dozen pencil-sized quills sticking out of your body. They don’t seem to be poisonous or autonomous once they leave the branches. The pain is excruciating, but you clench your teeth and continue the fight. At the very least, the heat of your Spirit Fire burns them away as you scour the area until the monster’s skin is crumbling ash, and there’s no space for it to grow anything.>>You are heavily wounded and require immediate medical attention.The Clones make good time, and Octavia’s evacuation shuttles are a testament to efficiency. They’ve evacuated enough of the Kakari, at least a full third (maybe even half) you think. After hauling a particularly heavy-set Kakari onto the awaiting shuttle, he dispatches Oann to you for immediate triage and dressing.“Hold still, sir!” the medic says, depressing a plunger full of painkillers into your throat. The medicine works surprisingly quickly; there’s barely any pain as Oann goes over you with a bottle of liquid spray bandage. “It might sting a little...”He’s not wrong. Even with the drugs in your system, there’s still something that smarts awfully when the adhesives make contact with exposed wounds.“Hold on, one more, sir!” You wince as he plugs you in the neck again with another syrette of drugs. At the confused look, he explains, “Stimulant to counteract the painkiller! Wouldn’t want your blood pressure to drop too low.”But before you can thank him, the Harvester shudders again. Only this time, instead of from a wound or injury inflected by either you or the Clones, it seems to occur without explanation. What green is left on tree, be it branch or vine or lichen, begins to lose its color. And the ominous lights within the creature, tucked between the branches, begin to dim and darken...“What the hell’s going on down there?” demands Skipp, “The Harvester’s stomach acid is beginning to boil!”“I don’t know, sir!” Oann calls back. The medic hurriedly finishes packing his kit, drawing his sidearm to join your side. He looks curiously towards you. “"Master Jedi-”But before you can deny any knowledge or vocalize your own confusion, the lights within the Harvester surge back to life with a nearly painful degree. They were blue before, but they now take on a sharper, more sinister hue as a strange and alien presence envelops the behemoth. Strange, but familiar-I really should thank you. I've missed the sensation of feeling burning rage.“HERALD!” you roar, drawing the Liar’s Blade.(cont.)
You should have accepted my offer, Jedi...“Show yourself!” you demand, lightaber and weapon at the ready. Perhaps not the most level-headed response, but one more than warranted considering the neigh destruction of the World Beneath. “What’s the matter, you don’t have the guts to face me?”Our time will come. But first, I would like a demonstration of sorts...From the way Oann pans his blaster around, it seems that you’re the only one that can hear the abomination. But you growl, “You’ve lost. Sings-of-Splititng-Stones is out of your reach forever. Bos will repair the walls, Octavia’s forces are mowing down the stragglers, and you’ll have no prisoners to drag to hell.”Perhaps...but you’ve not yet won the battle, Jedi...“COMMANDER SKIPP,” an unfamiliar voice proclaims. You frown, even as a terrible chill runs down the length of your spine. It’s a reedy, conniving voice you don’t recognize, but it’s one that the Clones seem to do. One by one, Scrapper Squad jerkily stops their evacuation of the Kakari, and Oann goes ramrod still, their expressions unreadable behind their helmets.From beneath the scorched epidermis, a slithering collection of roots pushes up a pulsating orb. And within the depths of the sphere, a vision of a cloaked figure manifests before you, only a handful of meters away on the ground. Clad head-to-toe in black, the only thing visible below the cowl of its hood are sickly-yellow eyes, holding in a contemptuous glare.Sith eyes, you realize as your blood turns to ice.There isn’t any hesitation as you leap forward, lightsaber raised in both hands as you bring the golden blade straight down the middle. But even as the orb collapses into two split halves, the projection persists. All of the spheres within the Harvester’s body glow with the same intense gleam as the Herald’s core, shining almost painfully bright as they project the image of the Sith Lord on the monster’s back.It’s not real. A cautionary examination reveals nothing of the Dark Side. There is only the Herald’s perfidious aura beneath it. The image is no more than a puppet for which the Herald to speak through. It’s a conjuration of sorts, a murmur’s illusion. It’s mimicry formed from either pure imagination or half-forgotten memory....and you suspect the latter, given the grainy appearance. Not unlike recording something on display from a holo-communicator.But I would still very much like to see just how good soldiers follow orders...Hang on a moment...It hits you like a physical blow, and you suddenly remember the sole mention or even appearance of any and all Sith on Kakarit. The logs of Acting-Commander Marcs, the revelation and arrival of False Mother...and the order that couldn’t be obeyed because there were no nearby Jedi.(cont.)
“THE TIME HAS COME,” speaks the Herald through the voice of the Sith Lord from all of the orbs, a thousand-manned chorus with a veneer of contempt and demand for absolute obedience. There’s more than just the Herald’s aura, an oppressive of Force that imposes its will upon the stunned Clones. “EXECUTE ORDER SIXTY-SIX.”It’s only the slightest twitch, one you could’ve missed by just simply blinking. But you could’ve sworn the tip of Oann’s blaster was shakily, ever-so-slowly moving towards your torso...>>What will you do?>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]>Incapacitate Oann and the other Clones before they can open fire. [Fight]>Withdraw from the Harvester and snag a ride from the exfil shuttle. [Flee]>Custom option. [Write-in][VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]I've been waiting so much to write this.
>>4410166>>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]Fuck off plantfag.
>>4410166>Call to Skipp to say what he thinks about the order.I'm worried this is a distraction, though. Is the Herald directly leading an attack on Bos to stop the barrier?
>>4410162>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]We will fight them in the fields, we will fight them in the jungles, we will fight them all the way back into whatever sithspit kriff-humping hell they were shat out of and WE WILL NOT FALTER
>>4410166>>Incapacitate Oann and the other Clones before they can open fire. [Fight]
>>4410166>>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]No man left behind
>>4410166>>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]
>>4410166>Incapacitate Oann and the other Clones before they can open fire. [Fight]What do we know about clones? Farren knows that Order 66 is the order to kill all Jedi, but we (OOC) know that the compulsion comes from their training rather than the Force. That means whatever mental attack the Herald is using could be to make the troopers believe that it's actually Palpatine talking to them so the conditioning works as intended, not a direct command to kill Farren. If he thought direct mind control was more effective or reliable, he wouldn't go to the trouble of projecting Palpatine and using Order 66.If that is the case, the shamanka might be able to use a mind trick on the clones and convince them that Order 66 has been rescinded.
>>4410166>Can't we like cut this thing connection to force and be done with this?
>>4410234We probably can, I'm just not sure how things would work out if the Herald can constantly try to do that.
>>4410166>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]
>>4410166>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]If we can't stop him here, we can't stop him in person.
>>4410166>>Engage the Herald in a battle of wills to repulse his hold upon them. [Stay]>>4410134>>4410136I get where you two fine gentlemen are coming from. You both have my admiration for being much more civil than the thread 1 friend.>>4410145>throwing pommelsHoly fuck, it's real
>>4410383>inb4 we fight another dark jedi dunce and brain him with a force infused, 76 mph pommel to the head
>>4410453>inb4 we combine force weapon, force push and spirit fire to throw the mother of all pitches
>>4410453>inb4 we take our jedi to tython and cleanse the planet of dark side monsters by dropping pommels from orbit
>>4410478>inb4 we rebuild the death star into a giant pommel and end palpatine rightly
>>4410505Already done it, I have. Hmmmmm.
>>4410526hmmmmmmmm create a mass extinction event, I must
>>4410526>>4410532"Infinities" is by far one of my favorite continuities within the franchise, and Disney can pry it from my cold, dead hands. And much as I like her as Jedi Knight further down the line in the EU, Sith Leia is something criminally underutilized and unexplored.Writing...
>>4410453>>4410461>>4410478>>4410505>Be me>Imperial Inquisitor >searching for Jedi in the wake of Order 66>Finally find one >Should be a walk in the park, records say he was unskilled and assigned to teach padawans>They probably barely trusted him with a lightsaber >Land on the same planet as him>Usually these assholes can’t wait to run out of nowhere and skewer themselves on my Saber >surprise him while he’s drinking in some ratfuck canteen >Immediately launch into Evil Speech #4 (as approved by Imperial Command)>As I’m talking I notice he’s fiddling with his lightsabers (these idiots almost never take proper care of their sabers, disassembling them Willy Nilly)>as I’m about half way through I notice he’s just finished unscrewing the base of his first Saber >I feel him push with the force >Suddenly feel a neurainium stud blow my brain pan out the back of my skull like a Vibro Hammer meeting a Gungan Melon
>>4410551By far the weakest story for infinities is the one for Empire. >"What if Luke just fucking died?"Well the answer is that the story goes to shit and Leia isn't written well enough to carry a story by herself.Then Han just fucking kills Vader.Also the art is fucking terrible for this one.
>>4410567Ye, I won't deny that "Empire" is kinda bad overall. Most of my fondness for "Infinities" is in "A New Hope" because of how batshit insane and off the rails things go.>Also, the art is fucking terribleYeah, that's nothing new. A lot of the EU comics back in the day constantly flip-flopped between good or just outright garbage. Case in point with pic related from the "Knight of the Old Republic" comics, with only a gap of six goddamned issues for the art direction to go to shit. The quality in character designs is just nauseatingly bad. Worse for me since I have a fondness of Celeste Morne and the Murr Talisman debacle.
>>4410590She looks like she's been attacked by bees
>>4410567Han doming Vader is funny.
Rolled 5 (1d100)Rolling for if Kaz is kill.
>>4411753He does this. Probably falls into a trance so that he can call upon forbidden Star wars EU lore.
>>4411785>forbidden Star wars EU loreKaz is gonna go full Supernatural Encounters on us, isn't he?
>>4410169>>4410171>>4410172>>4410177>>4410181>>4410220>>4410233>>4410234>>4410248>>4410272>>4410383Even before he gets the chance to level his gun, you direct a weak blast of Force towards Oann. The medic goes flying into the air, crashing against the base of the turmeric growth. A non-lethal blow. The moss and lichens softened the impact. But you’ve already taken off before he can have the chance to recover.Sorry, you quietly apologize.There isn’t much room atop the monster’s shell to maneuver. And there are dozens of orbs through which the Herald projects the image of the Sith Lord. At the very least, this is going to be perhaps only slightly more difficult than dealing with Sings-of-Splitting-Stone.Leaping onto the monster’s head, you prepare to gather your concentration once more as a blaster bolt pings just a few steps from where you once stood.Skipp, Roppock and Stye are nearly a dozen meters up atop the Harvester’s stomach. But there’s no mistaking the trembling in their stances, or how the sleek, black blasters in their hands slowly focus towards you. They don’t respond to any hails or demands to stand down, utterly silent and devoid of emotion as they train their guns down-“What are you doing?!”One of the Kakarit leaps from the shuttle, and grabs Roppock’s gun before he can fire off a round. The shot goes wide, pinging off a stalagmite in the distance. Locked in a struggle with the reptilian native, the clone shudders, grunting and straining to redirect the aim of his weapon.It starts a chain reaction. Within moments, a veritable horde of Kakari have thrown themselves atop the Clones. They clearly have no idea what’s going on. Confusion and terror roil off of their auras like a physical wave. But it seems that they’ve enough sense and no small amount of courage to perform something like this.They will die, Jedi, and it will all be your fault...You offer no answer, igniting your lightsaber to drive it into the Harvester’s skull. The creature roars, shaking its head in an effort to shake you off. But the golden blade remains stuck fast, and your hand clenches on tightly as it attempts to otherwise buck you off.These Clones are unlike any other to have answered the Call of Jombaral...You close your eyes, gathering your will into the same conceptual weapon you used to free Sings-of-Splitting-Stone.When Mother returns, I’ll have to petition her to journey to this Kamino as our first stop...>>Roll 2d10+9 Sever Force [+3 Will, +5 Alter Affinity, +1 Skill]>Best out of three.Gonna go out for a bit for some PT to unfuck my back, I’ll return in a few hours.
Rolled 9, 9 + 9 = 27 (2d10 + 9)>>4412112a pair of 1s for you
Rolled 4, 5 + 9 = 18 (2d10 + 9)>>4412112
Rolled 4, 4 + 9 = 17 (2d10 + 9)>>4412112Fuck off, you pothead.
Rolled 2, 7 + 9 = 18 (2d10 + 9)>>4412112neinneinnein
>>4412116Holy fuck it happened again
>>4412116WE NOMI SUNRIDER
>>4412116Fucking hell, what a roll
This was good to come back to.
I feel like the dice are telling us to build Gas Chambers for the Children of Jomboral.
>>4412116Jombaral = Fucked
>>4412358Force be with us if we run into grass-type Abeloth.
>>4412375>Farren is a Fire/Fighting type
>>4412833Goddamn Game Freak...
>>4412116>>4412121>>4412125Don’t think it will be so easy, Jedi-The irritatingly smug voice of the Herald suddenly cuts off as you prove his claim wrong. Certainly, the Harvester proves to be a tad bit more difficult than Sings-of-Splitting Stone. The great beast retained enough autonomy to not otherwise cease to function without the touch of its master. Not so much with the Harvester, what with how many cores are riddled along its body.Your lightsaber cuts through the uppermost layer of bark, slicing away the thickest parts until you reach a core. The image of the Sith Lord shudders, not quite nearly derezzing as you place a hand just a few scant inches above it. The world fades away as you focus it sharply on the object, bringing the sharpened blade of your mind to bear-NO!- and drive it into the Harvester’s skull with a careless slap upon the sphere.There are dozens of core-like orbs within the behemoth’s body. Destroying each one manually would take far too long and dangerous an operation. Thus, you come to the decision to simply brute-force your way into the Harvester’s Force signature, and cut them all off in a single, fell motion.But the Herald doesn’t make it easy. Even as you screw your eyes tight shut in concentration, you can feel the intensity of the blue light as the cores glow to a nearly painful degree. The first few shackles are quickly obliterated, and several of the spheres immediately lose their color. Yet your conceptual weapon, without any warning, seems to nearly abruptly bounce off the next set of chains.You can visualize the Herald in its fell glory, flooding its connection to the Harvester with all of the power at its disposal. It won’t let you have this victory, and even then, without great struggle or sacrifice. Both of you know that it’s only a matter of time before the Clones manage to break away from the Kakari and take a good shot at the Jedi focused too deeply to notice the blaster bolts.It has to end quickly.The throbbing in the back of your head becomes a painful beat as you tap further into your bond with the Force. The newfound power acquired from your trial against the Accuser responds in kind, answering your call with a surge of energy. Against the brambles of the Herald’s reach, your mind is shielded from any undue attacks.And in the split-second of hesitation from the enemy’s part, you Sever its connection to the lumbering Herald. In the world beyond your mind, the beast shudders violently, seizing as any and all higher functions begin to dim and otherwise cease. The Clones stop struggling against the Kakari, shaking their heads or otherwise expelling the contents of their stomachs.The projection of the Herald curses, lashing out with a limb-like branch, desperately reaching for the severed connection. Damn you, Jedi-!“I won’t let you-!” you shout, advancing forward with your own conceptual weapon.(cont.)
>>4414365It happens almost by accident. Really, it doesn’t even take that long. It all occurs within a solitary heartbeat, for projections of twisted limbs and bloodied knuckles to brush just slightly against each other-The planet is an endless sea of sand, scorched a deep golden-brown by the merciless glare of the sun. A caravan of hooded, shrouded figures ride their mounts across the crests of dunes. The journey is harsh and perilous, but one undertaken to the great Heart of Kakarit.The Herald is _multitudes_, existing on a higher plane than even the Accuser of Pilgrims. If the Accuser was best compared to a brilliant sun, then the existence of the Herald is a supernova in flux. A great host of souls orbit the Herald like the rings of a giant star, wailing a terrible chorus of despair. There are far too many to count, far too many screaming for the sweet release of death.There is a small one amongst them, hidden carefully away from the harsh and overbearing sun. Bandages supplement the thick hide cloak, but they are not nearly enough to mask the sight of albino scales and a pair of pale, sickly eyes. In the darkness of the tent, the young Kakari struggles to produce flames in his hands.With what remaining power lingers in the husk of the Harvester, the cores and spheres project the visage of the Herald of Jombaral. And in the flickering light, the unreadable and otherwise inexpressive roots seem to twist into an expression of unbridled rage.At the Festival of the Godseye, it is not just hatchlings that point and jeer, whispering and hissing to each other, pointing at the albino child. ‘Abomination’, they say with forked tongue and narrowed eye slits. ‘Discordant-Song-Born-From-Taboo’ that should have had his egg smashed and nest scoured with fire. The crying child swallows bitter tears, and seeks comfort in the long skirts of his mother, a Kakari dressed and adorned in the regalia of a shamanka.The sheer multitude of the memories nearly brings you to your knees. It’s almost impossible to both batter away the Herald and parse together a cohesive narrative from the flood of visions invading your mind. Not even the Revenant and her Storyteller had something like this.The child’s mother had loved a great shaman within the Communion of Spirits. Both had been taken into the fold on account of their talent. Together, they learned how to produce the Spirit Fires, how to communicate with the spirits of their ancestors. They were inseparable, and graduated from the threshold of initiates to full-blooded shamen, and even adults underneath the light of a romantic moon.The Herald turns towards you, its cores shifting from a placid blue to a flashing, bloody red. Its connection to the Harvester has all been forgotten in its sole fury towards the invader of its mind and long-forgotten memories.(cont.)
But it was perhaps destiny or the cruel whims of the universe that selected him, not her or both, to become one with the Accuser of Pilgrims. When the sun was at its highest, and the masks of the gods bore witness to the ritual, the ritual was performed. She screamed and cried, despairing as the Accuser tore her lover’s heart from his willing body and devoured it before the cheering masses.Somehow, you manage to stumble up to your feet. Blood runs down the length of your face as capillaries in your nose and eyes burst. Dimly, you’re aware of Octavia shouting into your ear, an Oann sprinting full-tilt towards you. She came to the temple, to the Shrine of the Accuser, when the festivities had ended and the guards had long surrendered to a drunken stupor. He was now only of fifty souls, diluted in a body sculpted in the very image of the gods. There was little in its glowing eyes beyond lust for her lithe and nubile body, the likes of which had never been presented before as a sacrifice. She cared not, so long as she had one final night with her lover, scant and fleeting as it might have been.Your senses are dulled. Your movement is hindered as if you were trapped in some vicious fluid. There isn’t nearly enough time to react as the projection of the Herald flashes repeatedly in an ominous light.In the darkness of the temple, beneath the light of the Godseye, the taboo was repeatedly performed. But it would be not until several months later before the shamanka knew the consequences of her folly. The child of their union emerged from his egg, sickly and malformed, with bleached scales that signified a curse from the gods. It would have been kinder to put it out of its misery.But the rumbling of the earth stops any and all threats that the Herald could possibly inflict. The Great Sunstone, the light of Nest’s End for four thousand years, suddenly and abruptly dims, plunging the World Beneath into an oppressive darkness.Through the years, the child cries and seeks the comfort of its mother, nuzzling against the talons that gently scratch its scalp. But there is only the barest affection within the gestures, and hesitancy for every hug and pleading desire for affirmation. The shamanka’s eyes are devoid of any true affection, try as she might to love it. It is not her lover’s child, but the child of the Accuser, an aberration born from the seed of fifty souls.All around the battlefield, from the irrigation fields of the mushroom paddies to the bottomless lakes with surfaces black as midnight, any and all bodies and water suddenly begin to violently boil. Billowing clouds of steam begin to flood the vast cavern, filling the air with the pungent odor of sulfur.(cont.)
Beyond ridicule and ostracizing, there were great expectations of the child. His tribe sought to turn him into a weapon against the other clans. Lineages of shaman and shamanka are not uncommon. But the union from the Accuser of Spirits? Such a thing could finally tip the balance of power to their favor and secure what little resources there were left on the planet.The darkness does not nearly last long for more than a handful of seconds. An overwhelming rush of Force energy gathers beneath the earth, knocking harshly against a barrier that surrenders to Bos’ power. And the waters of the lakes glow red for the briefest moment before a geyser of magma erupts erupts towards the Breach.And so the child strove to find meaning in its existence. It trained to the point where its knees were scabby, it practiced to the point where its talons were almost burnt black, it trained even as it coughed up bloody phlegm. All would be well, it reasoned. It would have the fondness of its tribe, true affection from its mother, and...it dared hope for the pride of the Accuser.A brilliant, blinding light shines from atop the parapet of Nest’s End. With the power of the Great Sunstone aiding their own talents in the Force, Bos and her acolytes shape and raise the foundation of a new Ancestor’s Pillar. The hole from which Jombaral’s reinforcements once poured through is now sealed off by molten rock.Bu at the zenith of his power, the child was powerless against forces he could not control. Nothing he could do was ever enough, would ever give it what it wanted. Not from the tribe, who merely saw it as a monster on a leash, and deigned to keep him well-fed and isolated from the others. Not from its mother, who never bothered to hide her feelings of disquiet even when it had learned to read auras. Its existence was merely that of a simple weapon who could be satisfied with only the basest of sustenance.Blaster fire riddles the projection of the Herald. Oann bodily picks you up, ducking as Skipp and Roppock blast the closest cores into scores of fragmented crystal. Stye holds the last of the rescued Kakari in his arms, all the while rocketing towards the ramp of the last shuttle.Its patience had finally broke. The final straw was something inconsequential, perhaps the rejection of a petition for a life-mate or another harsh rebuff against his presence in a celebratory festival. It mattered little. In the darkness of night, when all were asleep and its mother was away, it fled from the tribe, away from the sanctuary that protected its tribe from the scorching rays of the sun, away from the loathing stares and empty affection.Skipp is the last to clamber into the shuttle, emptying out all his clips and grenades against what cores he can still hit. Then, he barks a harsh order to Octavia and Suzel, requesting an immediate fire-mission at their exact location. Danger-close, high-yield munitions.(cont.)
Time ceased to have any meaning in the deserts of Kakarit. The days and nights blended together into an inconceivable slog. It drank sparingly, and killed what little game there was with its talents. It had no immediate goal, no desire to do anything but put as much distance between itself and the hollow sanctum. And if the village and its mother had rebuffed any and all advances and desires, what hope was there for the Accuser of Pilgrims?No sooner does the shuttle lurch away from the Harvester does the mother of all ordinance strikes rain down upon it. The transport shudders violently against the concussive force of high-explosive rounds as shipborne weaponry rain down upon it. It is perhaps a testament to the Harvester that it manages a final, gurgling wail before its Force signature disappears completely.But its wandering could not last forever. It had entered a place where the animals dared not tread, and the only water to be found was in stagnant puddles. The exodus had ruined its body, cracked it scales in a dozen places and left his bones fragile and weak. At summit of the mountains, it was as good a place as any to die. No one would ever think to seek it here, to bring it back to its gilded cage.“He’s not responding!” shouts Oann as he shines a flashlight into your eyes. “He’s breathing and otherwise staying still, but his brain scans are putting out the equivalent of someone having a seizure-!”Eventually, the waterskins ran dry, and it had no more dried meats to chew upon. Death would come soon, and with it, the long-awaited release from the agony of its existence. And on the last day, the child prostrated himself west, lying against cold stone, closing its eyes and dreaming of better times, possibilities that would never happen. It would depart from the world bathed in the gentle rays of the dawnlight.Without any warning, the connection between you and the Herald is abruptly cut. And the backlash hits you like a physical blow, knocking you to the floor in a crumbled heap.But dawn never came. The darkness persisted, and when the child cracked open tear-stained eyes and beheld the sky, its first sight on the day of its death was a great Eclipse that blocked out the sun and cast the entire planet, the mountain ranges, and the broken form of the child in a comforting darkness.The Clones swarm about you, clearing away the concerned Kakari as Oann begins to work on you. Their frantic words and curt transmissions are little more than an incomprehensible noise.From the bottom of eclipse poured a molten light, anchoring itself to the mountain upon which the child had rested. The pool of power was strong in the power of spirits, unlike anything the child had ever felt before. It was unique and strange, utterly alien and not of the planet.(cont.)
But just before you surrender to the comforting darkness, and lose yourself within a dreamless sleep, there is still just enough time for one more vision...And from the pool emerged something the child could not comprehend. But in that moment, the aberrant something brushed against its mind...and offered solace against the cruelty of the galaxy, and unconditional acceptance. They were kindred, almost the same in spite of its eldritch nature, but it loved more, and would love no matter how wretched or desolate came to it.With a tearful cry, the child rushed forward and buried itself in the embrace of its Mother, holding her tightly as the warmth it was denied enveloped its very being. And slowly, what returned its embrace was a multitude of arms, coarse and rough against its peeling scales, but so, so warm like the first light of dawn.‘Mother,’ the creature of four thousand years ago whispered, and the mountain trembled with every syllable uttered, ‘...family?’The child shakes its head, and rasped in a broken voice, ‘No. Only you...not tribe, not Accuser, not...not her...never Boscuatl...not all the Kakari...there is only you, Mother...and I, your son...”>>Please select one out of the following options:>How Master Larid Found Noriah on Coruscant. [Interlude]>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]>No interlude, stay with Farren and the Kakari.[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>4414612>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]
>>4414612>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]Eh, sure might as well, I’m still waiting for Arotta to show up again properly
>>4414612>No interlude, stay with Farren and the Kakari.
>>4414612>No interlude, stay with Farren and the Kakari.PLEASE! I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE FORTUNATE SON!! LETS GET THIS SHIT OVER WITH!!!
>>4414612>>No interlude, stay with Farren and the Kakari.
>>4414612>>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]>>441449510/10 painting choice. Joseph Wright did some good shit.
>>4414612>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]I wanna see how things are doing back there.
>>4414612>>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]
>>4414562>Master Aure and the briefing of Operation Icepick. [Interlude]
>>4414612>No interlude, stay with Farren and the Kakari.We can get the Aure interlude when we find her and the Larrid interlude when we get back.
>>4414989And if they have choices like the Larid one?
>>4414612>>How Master Larid Found Noriah on Coruscant. [Interlude]
>>4414995Then we avoid making mistakes.
>>4415166Based, dangerously so
>>4414634>>4414647>>4414663>>4414677>>4414691>>4414855>>4414942>>4414977>>4414989>>Some time later...Consciousness returns slowly, not nearly as fast as you’d like. But with alacrity comes pain, and all the aches of the battle of Nest’s End. At the very least, someone went and pumped you full of painkillers. It still doesn’t nearly block out all of the horrible sensations with every slight movement.It doesn’t take too long for your eyesight to adjust. The room is not entirely dissimilar to the cave the Kakari had placed you in, but the absence of the Great Sunstone’s light is something immediately noticeable. Someone had gone to the trouble of setting up a battery of portable LED lamps, illuminating what appeared to be a makeshift infirmary.A low groan to your left alerts you to the fact that you aren’t the only patient in the room. Staggering to your feet, you lurch for the closest support, a prefab crate that made do as a nightstand. A fresh pair of robes lay folded and waiting, smelling absolutely divine and nothing like the stenches of the jungle. Courtesy of the Albatross, undoubtedly, and one that he’d thank them profusely for.But the identity of your fellow wounded is none other than Cooper. It shouldn’t come as a surprise as memories of the battle return to you. Yet what does immediately sober up is the horrific extent as to how low the clone’s been laid.The ordinance specialist is diminished. Sweat runs down the length of his brow, locked in a severe grimace. The entirety of his right side is covered in thick gauze bandages and anti-septic patches.But perhaps the most noticeable injuries are his right arm and knees, amputated below the respective elbow and knee. Red splotches of coagulated blood provide a disturbing contrast against the sterile white.Those are career-ending injuries. During the height of the Clone Wars, the Republic wouldn’t have spent money to refit the rank-and-file with cybernetics to send someone with Cooper’s injuries out back onto the battlefield. He’d be given an honorable discharge, maybe a pension or offer to teach new clones back on Kamino...The flap covering the entrance to the cave rustles slightly, peeling back to reveal a surprised Oann. It doesn’t last long. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” observes the medic. “Ten or so minutes off my first estimate, but awake nonetheless. The anesthetic should’ve run its course through your system.”He steers you away from Cooper, all but sitting you firmly back upon the cot you had been resting upon. Your vitals are taken, wounds examined, body prodded before he pronounces you in better health than when you’d exfiled off the battlefield.“Not fully healed,” he warns you, handing you a canteen of what you expect to be water. “Try not to get into any more dangerous battles, Jedi. It'll be a bad end for everyone if you bite the bullet before we get off this hellhole."(cont.)
You accept the container with a dry chortle. “I’ll try not to disappoint then.” The water is quickly quaffed two big gulps. “...how long...?”Oann grunts as he moves to refill it. “Six hours. If it were up to me, I’d keep you down under for a few more days at the most. There were others who wanted you up sooner, but they’d have it over my dead body.”It wouldn’t be too hard of a guess as to venture who wanted him up immediately. Octavia was owed an explanation, and Skipp would want a debriefing of the battle. Maybe Troxl or Bos would want to ask something about the Heart, but the Kakari didn’t seem nearly that forward as hosts.But, digressing from that...Six hours. When you’d left the Heart of Kakarit with Octavia’s reinforcements, the sun had been setting. The critical moment couldn’t have lasted more than an hour. Fumbling for your chrono, you check the time, relieved to find that it’s not even dawn of your last day of the deadline. You’ve little over twenty-two hours to rescue Master Uyer Kosa. It shouldn’t be too hard to squeeze in an evacuation on top of that.Hurriedly, you shuck on your robes, brushing away an offer for help from Oann. The familiar weight of your lightsaber at your hip is a welcome addition, as is Nomiana’s blaster, even if you seldom used it. There isn’t much in the way of an armory in the infirmary, but you restock on thermal detonators, supplies and a myriad assortment of equipment useful to a Jedi Shadow.“Nice duds,” drawls the medic as you fasten the piece de résistance, the black cloak of a Jedi Shadow, along your neck, “Be careful though. Any darker, and you might look like the bastard who tried to mind whammy us-”You don’t even have time to offer a witty retort before you can sense a new presence at the door to the infirmary. The curtain peels away to reveal a young Kakari warrior, streaked with sweat and breathing heavily. It appears to have sprinted a long way, not at all helped by the armor and weapons on his person.“Honored guest...” he gulps down a large breath of air, gratefully accepting a canteen Oann produces. “Trax-Chieftain, Warrior-King of Nest’s End has called for war council to discuss the battle and its aftermath. You are summoned to the Obsidian Table-”No sooner does he finish before a second Kakari skids right up behind the warrior. In almost stark contrast, this one bears the regalia of a shaman, devoid of any weapons beyond a sunstone knife at her belt. She seems equally surprised as her fellow before she bows low to you deferentially.“Honored guest, Grand Shamanka Bos has called for an emergency gathering of the Commune of Spirits. She would very much like to speak with you about the events of the battle-”(cont.)
The warrior and shaman seem to recognize each other. But that quickly fades, before a heated glare is exchanged between them. It isn’t hard to guess why. It seems that you’ve been double-booked by two very important people within the Kakari social hierarchy while you were unconscious.“I arrived first!” the warrior argues, “Coming from orders of Trax-Chieftan himself, having returned from his expedition to eliminate the stragglers. Troxl-Prince also seeks his presence-”“Trax-Chieftan is unknown to Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness,” retorts the shaman, “Grand Shamanka Bos is on closer terms with our honored guest, and share talent in the spirits-”Oann gives you a flat look that conveys everything that needs to be said. Best to pick someone before they come to blows...>>Who’s summons will you answer first?>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.>Answer Shamanka Bos’ summons for guidance about the vision you saw of the Herald.[VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]
>>4415438>>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.We've left Trax on the back burner for long enough.
>>4415438>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.The Shamen meeting is good for Lore, but we should probably actually help out with the Evac
>>4415438>>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.
>>4415438>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.Not getting turned into subatomic particles by teraton-force explosions seems more important with less than a day left.
>>4415438>Answer Trax-Chieftain’s summons for a long-awaited meeting about evacuating the planet.
Kaz, did Master Laird know the Dark Woman?Are they friends?Have they ever held hands?
>>4415801I have insider info, I can confirm. >did Master Laird know the Dark Woman?Yes>Are they friends?That depends on your definition of "friends", but as far as Jedi Shadows go, yes. Friends enough not to seek her out, probably...>Have they ever SPOILERNo and you're depraved for asking that.
>>4415801More likely than not, yes. Not close friends, but familiar acquaintances to be comfortable around each other. And as for SPOILER, Larid always adhered to the maxim of "don't shit where you eat". If he ever needed to get frisky on a mission, it was always with women with no attachments or links to the Jedi Temple.Writing...
>>4415444>>4415449>>4415459>>4415476>>4415481>>4415486>>4415504>>4415575It isn’t to the great hall of Troxl’s clan that you are taken to. The Obsidian Table turns out to be a great amphitheater located in the upper wards of the city. Your warrior guide, an earnest soul going by the name of Apulxa, explains that it’s a sacred place only used in times of great crisis. The ashes of the Kakari ancestors were mixed into the stone chairs, and were said to bring wisdom upon those who sat upon them....how utterly morbid. Still, you suppose you can’t blame them. As far as you know, the recent invasion and breach had been the most troubling ordeals, second only to the initial arrival of the False Mother, which the Kakari have experienced.Emerging from the cave after your guide, it is to a somber city that realized just how close they had been to annihilation. While the highest areas had escaped relatively unscathed beyond the odd stray boulder, the same could not be said for the rest of Nest’s End. Perhaps it was a mercy that the Great Sunstone’s light had gone dark: the full extent of the destruction could not be dreaded as a singular image. The bulk of the Children’s artillery had utterly devastated the middle wards, and left the streets a crater-ridden ruin. The fortifications of the lower ward were in a grievous state of disrepair by the few Tall Walkers that had gotten too close for comfort.Your journey to the Obsidian Table takes you through the ruins of these wards, and the survivors that occupy them. Even as civilians dig through the rubble of collapsed buildings, the warriors are wary at every shifting stone. Apulxa explains that Children had also been rescued from the ruins, thus the precautionary measures.No sooner does he finish does a recovery team make a breakthrough. But from the hole they manage to widen and prop open with lengths of timber, a great tangle of roots emerges from the darkness, desperately seeking the light of the torches and lesser sunstones.You curse, reaching for your lightsaber. But it seems that the guards have it under control. As the workers quickly scamper away, a vase is thrown into the hole. It shatters, releasing the pungent odor of sulfur and rotting eggs. No sooner do you identify the smell of crude oil is a torch quickly flung into the hole. The unidentified Child makes a hellish shriek as the fire catches.But there isn’t any joy on the faces of the workers or the soldiers. One particularly aggrieved Kakari wails, pounding the indifferent stone of the streets with his fists. The mood of the crowd takes pity on their fellow as his home and any chance of his family’s survival burns away with the Child.Apulxa expresses his sympathy with a warbling noise in the back of his throat. “They are with the Ancestors now.”(cont.)
>>4416757He was a good QM. Some might say he was the best one. But Lord works in mysterious way in his endless wisdom decided to take him away from us. God bless his soul, god bless the Queen, God bless Canada.
>>4416757There isn’t any other way towards the upper ward without cutting through the open market. And try as you might to nonchalantly stride through, your black robes make it an impossibility to escape the notice of the crowd. Either that, or perhaps the Sunstone Spear strapped to your back that gains the attention of the natives.The number of Kakari who didn’t stop or stare could be counted on a single hand. Workers cease their labors, guards turn away from their posts, children crane over their parents’ shoulders for better look at the warm-blooded in their midst. It’s hard not to squirm as the weight of hundreds of gazes settle onto your back.Their emotions betray surprise and awe, fear and hope. But there’s something about them, a strange form of stoicism etched onto their features. They hold their chins high, proclaiming their will to continue to survive, bloodied and beaten, but not unbowed to the horrors of Jombaral. As far as they seem to be concerned, the horrific invasion was nothing short of just a bad day.Not that it doesn’t stop them from regarding you with something akin to reverence in their eyes. Perhaps it’s a warning growl from Apulxa or the way you carry yourself that prevents them from approaching you directly. Still, don’t seem to care too much about their whispers being overheard as you continue your walk up the incline.“...his white soldiers pulled my family out of the fields, and my bond-mate from the Harvester...”“...on his back, do you see it? My ancestor was the one who engraved the haft of the spear...”“...delivered not only the Heart of the Jungle, but reinforcements in the form of metal-without-song...”“...see, children? He may not have scales, but he is the Liar Chieftan reborn with warm blood...”“...Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness...”...you feel more uncomfortable than anything else, really. But it’s impossible for you to squash that faint swelling of pride at their praise>>The Obsidian Table“When approaching Trax-Chieftain, bow from waist but keep eye contact. When leaving, do not show your back towards him.”Octavia is in attendance, alongside Commander Skipp, seated at the front most row of the amphitheatre. The two of them seem to be on more professional than friendly terms, but they nod at your arrival. Each representative of the Separatist and the Republic have with them an honor guard, two B2s and clone troopers respectively.Troxl sits at the foot of his father’s throne. He bides you greeting with a grin and a nod, which you return solemnly. The weight on your shoulders only seems to have increased exponentially at the hundreds of Kakari in attendance for the war-summons.From atop a great obsidian chair, the chieftain stares at you with narrow, unblinking eyes, glittering in appraisal for the one who saved his kingdom. Then, he demurs in surprisingly coherent Basic, “You’re shorter than I thought, warm-blood.”(cont.)
>>4417246>(cont.)See you at 11pm.
>>4417246>>How will you entreat Trax-Chieftain?>You bow deeply, almost taking a knee with how far you go down. The pressure to plead your case of evacuation to him overwhelms any sense of pride. [Kowtow]>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving. Hero though you are, you need to respect the Warrior-King in his domain. [Respectful]>You don't bow, instead looking at Trax-Chieftain in his eyes the entire time. You need to show the strength that drove off the Herald. [Challenging][VOTE OPEN FOR 4 HOURS]
>>4417254>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving.
>>4417254>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving. Hero though you are, you need to respect the Warrior-King in his domain. [Respectful]
>>4417254>>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving. Hero though you are, you need to respect the Warrior-King in his domain. [Respectful]
>>4417254>>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving. Hero though you are, you need to respect the Warrior-King in his domain. [Respectful]Something something, it’s not the size but how you use it something something>>4417219God save the Queen, God Save Canada
>>4417254>You don't bow, instead looking at Trax-Chieftain in his eyes the entire time. You need to show the strength that drove off the Herald. [Challenging]
>>4417254>>You bow politely, like you would with anyone deserving. Hero though you are, you need to respect the Warrior-King in his domain. [Respectful]"And I can be shorter still"
>>4417254>>You don't bow, instead looking at Trax-Chieftain in his eyes the entire time. You need to show the strength that drove off the Herald. [Challenging]i think this one responds better to us not being a bitch
>>4417254>You don't bow, instead looking at Trax-Chieftain in his eyes the entire time. You need to show the strength that drove off the Herald. [Challenging]We don't have the luxury of time.
>>4417977>>4417995Uh, guys...>[VOTE OPEN FOR 4 HOURS]
>>4418012shrugI don't mind if it doesn't count.
>>4417254>>You don't bow, instead looking at Trax-Chieftain in his eyes the entire time. You need to show the strength that drove off the Herald. [Challenging]>>4418012Here look vote outside of 4 hour limit why don't you comment on it
>>4417977We've proven our capability already. Speak soft giant stick n all that
>>4418012fuck you faggot, i'll vote when my tz allows it. up to kaz if he counts it, not you
>>4417254Grill still giving you trouble, Kaz?
>>4421546Writer's block, but I've gotten over it. Lizard diplomacy is surprisingly harder to write than I thought.
>>4421747Take all the time you need, man! Just making sure you didn't go the way of dear Crusty Jones, may he rest in peace.
>>4421747Your PT really drugged you hard huh?
>>4417288>>4417322>>4417327>>4417361>>4417390>>4417499>>4417671>>4417695>>4417780>>4417977>>4417995>>4418108You bow, not nearly quite kowtowing, but stoop low nonetheless. As far as Jedi protocol is concerned, this isn’t any different from meeting any planetary dignitary. Hero though you are of the day, you will still pay the respect afforded to the leader of Nest’s End.In any case, you gently reply, “I find that what matters isn't the size of the warm-blood, but how he best uses his stature. Your excellency.”Even as Octavia and Skipp shoot you affronted looks, you aren’t too perturbed. Master Larid said that there was never anything wrong with hiding a fist even as you offered a hand in greeting. Although in his case, the “fist” more often than not tended to be well-hidden caches of explosives placed in critical locations.Hushed whispers break out from the chieftain’s assembled council and the denizens in the amphitheater. Above you, Trax’s throat warbles in consideration. You aren’t quite sure what the emotion behind it is; the king’s thoughts and aura register little beyond a disaffected coolness. His eyes, however, glitter with just the faintest hint of condescending amusement.“Wise words,” the Kakari demurs. Jewelry and ornamentation glitter on his body, from rings along his digits to the feathered headdress atop his scalp. “But allow me to officially welcome you to the city of Nest’s End. My expeditionary duties had unfortunately delayed this long-awaited meeting. I hope that you had found the hospitality my heir had offered for you to be acceptable.”You nod, catching Troxl’s gaze with a warm smile. “They were. Prince Troxl has been a generous host. He saved my life, actually, on the day we made planetfall. Without him or Grand Shamanka Bos, I wouldn’t be having this meeting with you.”It’s not even modesty on your part, false or otherwise. Without either of them rescuing you from Firebase Charlie, the crew of the Albatross would’ve either met a very bad end or beat a hasty retreat off-world. Prince Troxl’s chest puffs at the praise, although your thoughts stray towards Bos, and wherever the shamanka could be.“Indeed?” says Trax, stroking the front of his chin. Golden eyes flicker towards his son. You frown as the prince doesn’t quite flinch, but there’s an apprehension there that wasn’t before. “This was unknown to me. Is this true?”It isn’t to Troxl that the question is asked to. One of the chieftain’s advisors, an elder reptile with whitewashed scales and milky eyes, rasps, “Yes, Trax-Chieftain. Gaelle-Jedi, Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness, and his company were in the midst of an attack when Troxl-Prince and Bos-Shamanka rescued them from within the stronghold of the infected warm-bloods.”(cont.)
Skipp shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and his expression narrows into a tight grimace. Octavia’s far too professional to make any sort of needless gestures. But there’s no mistaking the brief flash of sympathy that you can feel come off her.But Trax started talking, and his voice carried an undercurrent of iron: “I was under the impression that I departed into the Dark Beneath leaving strict orders for no contact with the surface.”His eyes turn towards Troxl, and the apprehension in the prince’s demeanor returns almost tenfold. And the Warrior-King asks, “Why did you disobey my edict? Did the withered hag pressure you to sally forth like one of the heroes of old? I’ve told you time and time again that you need not be pressured to be like Trexl. You are very much your own individual.”Your eyes narrow. Even someone deaf and blind could feel the charged current in the air. And from the way Octavia and Skipp are reacting, they know something’s off too. But as far as everyone seems to be concerned, this doesn’t seem to be anything more than standard behavior or protocol.But Trax’s lips part, curving into a dangerous smile full of sharp teeth. “However, it seems your gamble has more than paid off. It seems that an investment of kindness has yielded an unexpectedly greater return than either of us could have foreseen. I would not rebuke you for the effects your rescue had.”He pauses, standing from his throne to regard the audience with fervent eyes. And with a sharpened talon, the Warrior-King points towards the Sunstone Spear on your back. “The spear on this warm-blooded’s back are proof enough. For the first time in four thousand years since our exile to the World Beneath, the Heart of Kakarit and the Godseye are once more in the hands of their rightful owners!”If you hadn’t been on the thick of the battlefield the prior day, one might think that the disastrous attack had never happened. The battle had been won, but it came at the high price of the destruction of the Great Sunstone. And yet, the hundreds of Kakari gathered begin to cheer raucously. It’s certainly a whiplash-inducing sight from the solemnity of the lower wards.However...there’s a certain part of you that tartly observes that the Warrior-King had proclaimed it as if he had been the one to brave the Heart of Kakari and slay the Accuser of Pilgrims.Trax holds up his hand, and the crowd quickly becomes silent. He turns towards Octavia and Skipp, who go ramrod straight as the chieftain’s attention falls upon them. “Of course, we have much to thank you for as well. In spite of how you brought your war to Kakari and spent the better part of it at each other’s throats, it’s quite wonderful to see enemies become allies. The safety of the Kakari people could not have been accomplished with your reinforcements.”(cont.)
The commander doesn’t answer, but the commodore clears her throat, saying, “Trax-Chieftain, I must be blunt: your people are running on borrowed time. I have a spaceship in the Heart of Kakari capable of transporting the entire population of Nest’s End several times over-”“I’ve already begun preparations at my son’s behest,” he interjects smoothly, “Those flying boxes of yours are quite the miraculous bit of technology. I presume that those are to be the means for my people to be ferried to the Heart?”“That is correct.” Her face remains placidly neutral, as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “We’ve got a course for our shuttles to go to and from the Heart. And once your people are the Globus, we’ll be able to evacuate off-planet without suffering too much damage from the Children.”Octavia pauses, tilting her head in your direction. “And you mentioned one final bit of Jedi Business. Did you wish for me to wait to dust off until you got back your missing master?”Huh. That’s actually a good point. From a purely ethical standpoint, it isn’t a good look to be the first ones out of the hellhole while there are still allies on planetside. On the other hand, you do have an E9 scout ship more than capable of breaking atmo and the aim of the Children.But you aren’t able to tell her of your plans for deferral. The Warrior-King narrows his eyes sharply at something that the commodore had said earlier. Even as Prince Troxl shoots you a worried look and attempts to stop his parent, he isn’t able to in time. “Off-planet?” His query comes no louder than a whisper, but it cuts through the dull roar of the crowd. All eyes are focused towards the obsidian thrown and its current occupant. “Pray tell, you mean to spirit us away from Kakarit. Is that what I’m meant to infer?”Skipp coughs incredulously. “Erm...begging your pardon, sir, but what was it exactly that you thought we meant by evacuation?”“That you would see my people settled securely within in the Heart of Kakarit,” answers Trax with a low, chilly tone, “And depart from our planet as soon as you recover your missing Jedi.”Whispers of differing cliques based on ideology immediately break out in the amphitheatre. Even as the advisors and prince shout for order to be restored, it doesn’t seem to be having too much of an effect. Still...this can’t be happening. The worst possible outcome for this whole evacuation mess hasn’t reared its ugly head as much as thrown down an ultimatum at the feet of Farren Gaelle.Octavia gives you a flat look, even as Skipp trudges over towards you. The clone’s jaw is...not nearly as tight as it could be. But there’s no mistaking the tension in his admittedly more ridged stance. “...sir, you did tell them about Base-Delta-Zero, right?”(cont.)Need...sleep
“...I told the prince,” you answer dryly, just barely above a whisper, “And Bos as well. She said she’d talk to Troxl about it, and then Troxl to his own father. I wasn’t aware that there was...tension between the three of them.”“Now that’s an understatement.” His smile is thin as he glances towards the throne. “...but it seems that someone didn’t go tell the ruler about BDZ."The cliques and groups still continue to debate and discuss amongst themselves as you approach the throne. Your progress is initially impeded by two of the honor guards, but Trax waves them off. The green feathers of his headdress bob as the beckons you forward.“Ah, you must forgive me,” he says smoothly, “‘Jedi’ is your title, and I’ve heard the epithet of ‘Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness’ among the likes of ‘Jombaralsbane’ and ‘Accuserslayer’. In all the trappings of etiquette and protocol, I’d forgotten to ask for your name.”There doesn’t seem to be any double-meaning or hostility in his voice. But it seems that Trax is an individual very much in love with the sound of his own voice. You’d think he’d be little more than a foppish regent if not for the hideous patchwork mess of scars running along his face, arms and bare chest. A lifetime’s worth of battle and conflict have been carved onto the canvas of his body, proving he’s worthy of the epithet of ‘Warrior-King’. Even if he’s acting like an condescending prick about it.But you give your name. “Farren Gaelle. I’m not too familiar with your naming conventions, but I’ll answer to either one or both.”“Gaelle is your clan or tribe name, then?”An image of Alleana, dressed in white clothing and beaming immaculately, comes and goes before your vision. "...yes."“Fascinating. A pity that we don’t have nearly enough time to explore our respective differences. I understand that you’re in a hurry to escape from our planet.”Nodding, you coolly reply, “But parting won’t be necessary. We could speak about cultural nuances on the flight out from the system. There’s a surplus of artificial light structures on the Globus we can arrange for your subjects.”Something glints in the chieftain’s eye, a mirthless sort of amusement. “You as well? From what I’m told, you might have stayed longer had it not been for this...calamity you say will fall upon us. I’ve not yet seen a disaster the likes of which the Godseye could not protect us from.” Your eyes narrow. The inscriptions on the ziggurat walls depicted the shield more than capable of shrugging of cataclysmic meteor showers. Stellar masses, however, are leagues apart from the orbital weaponry of a Venator-class Star Destroyer. And not just one, but however many the Empire will deploy in order to contain the threat of Jombaral. Truth be told, you wouldn't be too surprised if the Empire sent all of their forces, logistical nightmare be damned.(cont.)
Tempting as it is to see just how effective the Godseye is as a defensive weapon, you have little desire to see how strong the shield can withstand against the full might of a Base Delta Zero.The chieftain’s features are smooth, but his gaze is hard. And as if in response to your thoughts, he leans closely, sharp teeth just a few scant inches from your ear.“The dirt and stone we tread on contains the ashes of my ancestors,” he hisses lowly, “Of the Kakari who came before, come now, and will return. False Mother has been gone off-world for nearly a month and shows no signs of returning. We owe you a great debt for returning the Heart, and once you destroy whatever you find in the Womb, Kakarit will return to as it was once more.”“And how long will that take?” you reply tersely. “Because you’re right when you said that we don’t have time. I guarantee you that very, very soon, an armada of even bigger flying boxes will blot out the light of the sun and rain hellfire upon the planet. It’s going to make what Jombaral did to your people look no worse than a gardener scattering seeds upon freshly-tilled soil.”Trax’s nostrils flare at the mention of the False Mother, but he schools himself into placid neutrality. “So you say.”“I know it for a fact. It isn’t prophecy as much as a promise of what’s going to happen to the planet once we’re gone.”“Answer me this, then. Had you not brought your war to our planet, would we be in fear of this...”“Base Delta Zero.”“I see...although.” The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, “If you say that hellfire is going to rain onto the forests above the surface, I’d welcome it. Everything burns away, the planet scoured clean for us to rebuild and renew ourselves once more.”It’s hard not to otherwise stare at him agog as he continues speaking, this time in a solemn, grander tone than the condescending airs he’d put on earlier: “I have plans for our people’s future, Jedi. Plans that my son will inherit once my bones are either dust or ash, and the heirs of Bos will comply with, to usher in not just a Golden Age, but a Great Rebirth of the Kakari. And not a single one of them involves my people departing my homeworld."It's so very much tempting to ask the 'how' for his plan. Eight hundred people aren't a good foundation to rebuild a population upon. Maybe they know something you don't about genetics...>>How will you approach the subject of evacuationi?>Attempt to work the people into listening to you. You really don’t have the time to cut things too close, social niceties be damned. [Demagogue]>Convince Chieftain Trax in private so he can save face. You won’t publicly humiliate him before his subjects and his son. [Diplomacy]>Put it off until after you rescue Master Kosa from the Womb. At any rate, the Kakari will be at the Heart once you return. [Delay]>Custom option. [Write-in][VOTE OPEN FOR 8 HOURS]
Apologies for the delay. Writing this update was like pulling teeth.
>>4423812>Put it off until after you rescue Master Kosa from the Womb. At any rate, the Kakari will be at the Heart once you return. [Delay]I guess I'll keep thinking if we've got something better.I'd think even their ancestors would prefer a land where the vegetation is not trying to kill them.
>>4423812>JOmbaraal is many things, evil, arrogant, vicious. She turned many of the clones into her thrall.That's the problem. The clones were unders orders from a powerful Sith. A shamanka strong in the Darkside like she is, but with a far greater reach of resources. She felt him, and he her. He will make sure her plot at freedom will be strangled in the womb, by taking the planet and crushing it, burning away all life, all land, and air, until this planet is not even sand or dust, but glass molten and broken, and if he fears a challenge from her enough he may go beyond even that. This Sith is strong, he hid under the nose of his enemies the strongest and wisest of my order, and wrought our downfall. I know for a fact he would rather lose one small planet in his domain, for he himself has the gall to claim every planet in the stars as his, over letting a rival to his power escape and flourish. He will destroy Kakarit, If you think i am formidable? He is worse a hundred thousand times over. If you stay, you're only setting your own tomb.
>>4423812>>Convince Chieftain Trax in private so he can save face. You won’t publicly humiliate him before his subjects and his son. [Diplomacy]Channel our inner Kristen.
>>4423865I don't see how turning ourselves into a coffee table and offering to hold everyone's drinks is going to help matters.
>>4423846If we're going by what our visions showed us, I wouldn't call her evil or vicious. Misguided, definitely. In over her head, yep Possibly even warped to her current mindset by the Herald. He wanted a mother, and he wanted his people to respect him like how he thought he should be.
>>4423846Sounds good, ditto
>>4423812>>4423846This. We don't have time to do this shit in private or later. The King can either listen or die here with his most loyal believers.>Attempt to work the people into listening to you. You really don’t have the time to cut things too close, social niceties be damned. [Demagogue]
>>4423812>Convince Chieftain Trax in private so he can save face. You won’t publicly humiliate him before his subjects and his son. [Diplomacy]"I do not believe you understand. The fire that will befall Kakarit will burn harsh, deep and long enough to ensure it sings no more."
>>4424005You're right.>>4423812Switching >>4424007 to demagoguery.
>>4423812>Convince Chieftain Trax in private so he can save face. You won’t publicly humiliate him before his subjects and his son. [Diplomacy]Just realized I didn't vote...
>>4423812>Custom option. [Write-in] There won't be a Kakarit after Base Delta Zero. Even if the Heart's shields hold up, they'll stop working once the planet's crust is turned molten from the turbolaser fire and its atmosphere is stripped away. The Clones and Separatists are nothing compared to the massed might of the Empire, Kakarit's sun will be blotted out and its skies turned green before all life, and all capability to sustain life, is stripped away. A billion civilized planets are under the Empire's yoke, one backwater is worth less than the cost of running the turbolasers to slag it. When they determine nothing will survive, the only way out is to run before they catch you. Like the Jedi did.
>>4424216>turbolaserWhat are those?t. Kakari
>>4424224It's a laser.That's turbo.
>>4423812>>Attempt to work the people into listening to you. You really don’t have the time to cut things too close, social niceties be damned. [Demagogue]I just want my droid harem.
>>4423846This>>4423883I think anon is playing to their vision. Calling Hitler missguided would went over wrong in some communities
>>4423833>>4423846>>4423865>>4424005>>4424010>>4424016>>4424216>>4424273>>4424467Trax’s heart is set in stone. He won’t budge on the issue. Perhaps if you had more time, you might be able to change his mind. But it’s as he said: it is a currency that neither of you have.“...you did a good job of protecting your people so far.” He blinks, surprised at the compliment you pay him. Even if you don’t quite nearly feel it, it’s a true enough statement to make. But before he even has a chance to answer, you continue, “But there’s an old idiom from the Core Worlds about frogs and wells. Perhaps the same could be said to reptiles and the World Beneath.”The art of public speaking had never been your strongest suit. That was an art best left to the Consulars, with their soothing words and amicable demeanors. Jedi Shadows (or perhaps just Master Larid) always became masters of small talk, or “the art of bullshit”. It’s a talent that’s certainly helped you, but one that you feel you won’t need to draw too much upon for what you want to say.A hush falls about the amphitheater as you take to the center, with hundreds settling their gazes upon you. Curious looks from your companions are met with a small nod in their direction. You give an uncertain, but firm smile, before turning your attention to the Kakari.A king is nothing without his people. Even if Trax will not budge, the case must at least be pled to his subjects.“Jombaral is many things.” The opening statement of your speech invites angry or otherwise fearful hissing, not at you, but at the true name of the False Mother. But you continue onwards, “She is...misguided. Arrogant. Vicious. Insidious. The Clones that helped you were once part of a larger whole, and all but those seven were corrupted by her. But she was not their first master, only the second in a line of terrible, evil people.”You pause, taking a moment to let it sink in the audience. Then, you continue, “Many of you might know that I am a Jedi. A Force-wielder not unlike Grand Shamanka Bos or the Communion of Spirits. But just as the Communion is Jombaral’s mortal enemy, so too do the Jedi have their archenemies in the form of the Sith. And I can solemnly tell you that the evil of the Sith far outstrips anything that even she could conjure up. I...fear him more than the False Mother.”For the briefest moment, you allow the emotions you felt in the wake of Order 66 to seep back into your body. Visions flash in your mind: Torok’s pleas for aid, the terrible sight of Kristen in the carbonite, the fall of the Revenant, the vision of the Storyteller, the horrific wail from the galactic core...anger and despair, helplessness and rage. A few stray pebbles by your boots almost seem to tremble before you reign it back in.(cont.)
“...the Sith knows of Jombaral,” you continue, “And he will make sure that her plot for freedom will be strangled in the womb. Even if by some miracle you drive off Jombaral and scour the planet of all her Children, there is nothing that will stop the Sith from ensuring that any and all threats to his rule have been permanently destroyed. There will be no Kakarit after Base Delta Zero. Even if the shields of the Heart hold up, they’ll stop working once the planet’s crust has turned molten from turbolaser fire and its atmosphere is stripped away.” You pause, regarding the confused looks on the faces of the audience. Hurriedly, you add before the momentum is lost, “Imagine if you will, one of the blaster weapons carried by either Commodore Mercantor’s droids or Commander Skipp’s clones. Now, take that, and scale it up to the size of a weapon battery the size of the tallest building that stands in Nest’s End. And instead of beams the size of sticks, it fires concentrated energy bolts only slightly smaller than Sings-of-Splitting-Stone.”Crude as the allegory is, it in tandem with the tone of your voice gets the point across. The ones closest to Octavia and Skipp look to their hips, regarding the weapons with a new, disturbed light. The very same weapons that brought them salvation against the Children would just as readily be turned upon them, and in a greater scale than any of them could imagine.But you carry on, even as you sense movement in the corner of your eye. One of the Trax’s advisors moves to...do something. But Troxl shoots him a glare and a silent snarl to stay in place. “Similarly, the droid ships that rained fire down upon the Children are only pebbles compared to the great armadas that the Empire can and will amass to Kakarit-”Octavia gives you a dirty look that all but promises a sharp increase to the tab you currently open with her.“-the Clones and Separatists are nothing compared to the might of the Empire. Their ships will block the light of the sun. They’ll turn the skies green before all life, and all capability to sustain it is stripped away by constant orbital bombardment. With the Sith’s claim to billions of civilized worlds and the territory of this system, one backwater is worth less than the cost of the weaponry needed to turn it into slag. He would condemn you all to the fires on the off-chance that you would spread the influence of Jombaral throughout the galaxy.“This is a foe that will not tolerate any rivals,” you warn them gravely, “He will snuff them out before they can take root, or patiently plot their downfall before delivering the killing strike when you least expect it. If you think I am formidable for my actions on the battlefield? He is worse a hundred thousand times over.(cont.)
>>4425530...did you mean Frogs and Flowers? Like the Bromeliad?
>>4425618No, no, he meant "A frog in a well does not know the great sea".
>>4425620Ah, I have never heard of that, but I have heard of people ignorant of the wider world being compared to the Frogs that live their whole lives inside bromeliads
>>4425635Sounds to me like different variations of the same saying.
>>4425558“You will not survive the coming storm. What he did to my order, my equivalent of the Communion of Spirits...ten thousand Jedi. Men, women and children all snuffed out in a matter of seconds. He’ll do to your planet what he did to the Jedi, and scour it from the face of the galaxy. The only way out is for you to run before both he and the Empire catch you.”The silence that follows is almost stifling. No one is quite sure how to respond. Perhaps the speech was too effective. Even as Octavia and Skipp give their silent approval, fear has ensorcelled the surviving Kakari.The portrait that you paint is one of disaster and apocalypse. A threat far worse than Jombaral exists beyond the well of their planet. And to make matters worse? The Jedi that had so easily cut down the Children speaks of being powerless before the Sith.The Kakari stand upon a knife’s edge. You can already see Trax descending from the throne, moving to take your spot in the podium. There’s no telling what he’s going to say. Will he offer platitudes and ease? Or perhaps a fiery declaration to die upon the soil of his ancestors.But just as he moves to shove you out of the way, a voice pierces through the silence:“I will support the claims of Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness.”All eyes turn towards the entrance to the Obsidian Table. Grand Shamanka Bos is supported by two of her acolytes as she makes her way down the amphitheater. The light of the sunstones reveal a sickly discoloration of her scales, as if the dulcet hues and shades had been either burned or bleached out of them.The price of salvation.Trax’s lips curl in distaste. “Bos.”“Chieftain,” acknowledges the Shamanka. Her voice, nonetheless, remains undiminished and otherwise filled with the same resolute iron on the day she handed you the Liar’s Blade. “Forgive me for arriving late to the war-summons. The draught my apprentice brewed was perhaps just a tad too potent, but recreating an Ancestor Pillar is no small or easy feat.”The chieftain snarls in distaste. He can’t make a rebuttal, not since he wasn’t here to repel the Children’s invasion. All he can do is glower at the Grand Shamanka as she joins you at the center of the stage.“You didn’t respond to my summons,” she admonishes you. Her staff waves threateningly in front of your face, but the smile on her lips betrays her amusement.“My apologies.” In a lower voice, you add, “But there were some frogs in wells that I needed to take care of first.”“I find in my many experience that ignorance is fully capable of being cured. Stupidity, on the other hand, is not so easily remedied...” You nod, giving her an appraising look. “Are you alright?”“Better than I’ve felt in years, Jedi! Beauty is only scales deep, and in my age, it wasn’t like I was using them to attract mates.”(cont.)
Even as her acolytes cringe at the joke, you laugh, shaking your head. “Terrible pity, that is.”Bos cackles. “You are several millennia too early to try and court me, warm-blood.”On that note, the banter ends. The Grand Shamanka’s face becomes serious once more. Turning to the people, she addresses them: “The Jedi’s words are true. He would first deliver you from the invasion of the Children. Now, he will deliver you from your own folly and pride. Trax-Chieftain will promise you the sun. But Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness offers you the stars beyond our world.”“But what will we do?!” cries a voice from the crowd. “Where shall we go?”And like wildfire on a desolate plain, their concerns catch and sweep through the audience. Within seconds, there’s a multitude of voices clamoring and shouting.“What will become of us once the planet is destroyed?”“What if we escape the boiling pot to only end in the fire?”Bos drives her staff onto the ground. And the noise it’s iron end makes resounds like a thunderclap into the hallway. The cacophony dies in an instant, but it takes several moments for the echo to fade away. And then, with an unreadable expression, she declares: “It’s only inevitable for hatchlings to leave their mother’s nest. For too long, we’ve lingered in darkness and fear. I would not have saved you and nearly burnt out my body to have you simply throw your lives away.”Voices of approval from the crowd, hissing whispers and discontent from the chieftain’s advisors. But what tips the balance overwhelmingly into your favor comes as a surprise. With a resolute growl, Prince Troxl rises from the seat at his father’s throne, and marches to stand alongside you and Bos.A pity that you don’t have a recorder. The gobsmacked look on Trax’s face as his dreams crumble around him is worth almost nearly a hundred thousand credits.>>LaterBoth Octavia and Skipp promise to have the evacuation go as smoothly as possible. The former also tells you that he’ll keep a close eye on Trax. The Chieftain’s playing nice for the moment, if not acting a little surly or sullen. But in the odd event that he should act out...“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” the clone says seriously.But just as you prepare to load up into the Albatross to go rescue Master Kosa, an unexpected visitor idles up towards the ramp.“Bos?” you query, surprised at the Grand Shamanka’s presence. “What are...shouldn’t you be on one of the transports to the Heart? They won’t be able to get the shield down unless there’s a Force-sensitive among them?”She sniffs. “My apprentices will take care of the Godseye and the shield. I am coming with you, Jedi.”...wait, what.What?!(cont.)
“Hold on what-”“Ah, I’d forgotten that your healer said that one of your eardrums is out of alignment.” Bos shakes her head, pulling you in closer by the hem of your collar. And with a deliberate, lilting enunciation, she says, “I. Am. Coming. With. You. Did you hear that, Jedi?”In any other circumstance, you might’ve found it funny. Now, not so much.“You nearly killed yourself to seal off the breach,” you argue. “You could barely stand in the amphitheater!”“The fragility of my legs is doesn’t have any impact on my ability to use the power of the spirits,” she answers brusquely.“...well, what happened to me sticking this...” You brandish the Liar’s Blade, and its light catches off the walls in eerie and strange patterns, “And doing it for you? You said yourself that you’re far from your prime.”“The situation has changed.” Her eyes meet yours, and they broker no argument. “And I hardly believe an explanation is warranted for two out of three who repelled the Herald to descend down into the Womb.”>>How will you respond?>Demand an explanation for her change of heart.>Let her come, no questions asked. Her argument has merit.>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKED]>Custom option. [Write-in.][VOTE OPEN FOR 6 HOURS]
>>4425931>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKED]KNOCK HER OFF-BALANCEACHIEVE CONVERSATIONAL DOMINANCE
>>4425931>>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKED]
>>4425931>>Demand an explanation for her change of heart.
>>4425931>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKEDNo but seriously, let's get this out of the way.
>>4425931>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKED]
>>4425931>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKEDTHE BOX, THE BOX
I have a good idea. Let's have Bos put Kristen's consciousness in Octavia's husband's body!
>>4425931>>“...who is Boscuatl?” [SPECIAL OPTION UNLOCKED]>>4426218Having a girl in a mans body negates the chance to fuck the girl.
>>4426324Just reread he's not that fucked up anyway. We'll have to find a baby to put her soul in.
>>4426327Or just get her out of the coma she's in.
>>4426433Literally this easy.
>>4426479The soul thing might be easier with Bos. If it's not too depraved for DE Palps it should be good enough for us, right?
>>4425949>>4425959>>4426056>>4426083>>4426184>>4426188>>4426213>>4426221>>4426238>>4426324>>4426621>>“...who is Boscuatl?”The way that she reacts to the name is almost like a physical blow. Her walking stick clatters to the floor as the already bleached complexion of her face turns an even paler hue. The slits of her eyes dilate, and her breath catches sharply in her throat.“...where...where did you learn of that name?” she whispers hoarsely, suddenly looking very much her age. Perhaps even more. The Grand Shamanka appears to have aged by several years in the last few seconds.Now is the time for all cards to be placed on the table. The question of the Liar’s Blade will be answered shortly. But first...“...from the Herald,” you answer truthfully. “Not that he told me it outright. I overheard him speaking it to Jombaral.”Pure fear and terror breaks out across Bos’ face as she nearly staggers. “False Mother has returned-?”“No, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly add, “Bad choice of words. Forgive me.” At the dark look she musters, you hurriedly guide her to a nearby supply crate. It wouldn’t do anything good for her legs to give way from any more shocks, intentional or otherwise. “False Mother is still very much off-world.”Bos doesn’t even bother hiding the relief on her face. She sags against you, clutching the hems of your robes in tight fists. “Speak plainly, or not at all,” demands the Grand Shamanka.That’s fair enough. Nodding, you answer, “Just before you drained the Great Sunstone and created a new Ancestor’s Pillar to seal off the breach...the Clones and I were on the Harvester when the Herald tried to brainwash them. I stopped his efforts by Severing the connection between it and the monster...”You scratch your head sheepishly. “...maybe it worked a little too well. For whatever reason, I got inside the Herald’s mind. But the vision I had...”>>You take a moment to convey the full extent of the vision you saw of the Herald.“...and when the child rushed to Jombaral, he rattled off a bunch of people that had wronged him,” you finish. “...but there was only that he named in particular, singled out apart from the rest by virtue of naming her. Boscuatl. The Kakari shamanka who was his parent, but could never be his family...or his mother.”Dead silence. Bos can’t answer. All she can do is stare as if seeing you truly for the first time.Coughing, you decide to continue: “I couldn’t help but notice that the similarity between that name and yours. And then I remember seeing a statue in the Heart of Kakari that bore more than a familiar resemblance. Thought it was just a common ancestor or a coincidence. Some people wait for three times to confirm enemy action, but this second bit...my Master never taught me to count higher than two in matters like these.”(cont.)
Four thousand years is a very, very long time. But if there’s anyone within the entirety of Nest’s End who acts their age and possibly more...? And considering how Jedi and other Force-sensitive individuals tend to live longer than most species, at least double...the implications of the maximum lifespan of the Kakari are staggering.But, you digress, look her straight in the eyes, and ask with the delicacy of a rancor in a fine china shop: “Are you Boscuatl...mother of the child that would become the Herald of Jombaral?”The noise that comes from the back of her throat is...hard to describe. It sounds like a harsh cough brought about by a terrible shock. It also bears resemblance to wheezing laughter in reaction to the punchline of a bad joke. But it also has undertones of a sob strangled by grief. It takes several moments for the little fit to come to a complete stop. Wheezing and patting her chest, the elder Kakari draws a sharp, rattling breath. “Ah...the last few days have certainly been full of surprises. But in my many, many years, that’s perhaps the first time I was asked that question...Jedi.” “And how many years is that?” you query. At the look she gives you, you shrug. “My mother wasn't around to teach me that asking a woman her age is bad manners. And even if the Jedi did, it was driven out of me by my own master’s training.“Bos...” you continue, this time abandoning any and all flippancy and irreverence, “I can’t help you if I don’t know anything. If I’m going into the Womb of Jombaral, I can’t leave any stone unturned or leads left unfollowed.”Silence as you stare at each other, cerulean blue meeting fading gold. Neither Jedi or Shamanka are about to back down in this contest of wills. The air between you seems to taste of the coming storm.But Bos breaks it with a sigh. “...my full name is Boslzoh. My mate's name was Tecuatl. It is custom that the names of children inherit each a part of their parents' names. Perhaps you saw that with our magnanimous Chieftain Trax, and his son Prince Troxl. Or Prince Trexl, before the Herald ripped his soul out of his body.”She laughs mirthlessly, shaking her head. “Trax never quite forgave me for the death of his firstborn. 'Filled his head with stories'. But he couldn’t punish me either. Too valuable to the protection of Nest’s End to be exiled above. The worst he could do was banish me to my little island away from the city and disinvite me to war-meetings.”At first, you don’t quite get it. You’re too busy filing away that little bit of royal intrigue into a place in your mental notes to access for later. But when it happens, the click that connects two points of together pulls the world from under your feet.You turn to Bos with a morbid expression. “...hang on...Boscuatl...Boslzoh and Tecuatl...that means-!”(cont.)
>>4426987So is Boslzoh the TRUE mother of the kakari?
>>4426987dang, she old as fuck
>>4427108Not only is she over four times older than Yoda, she was around while all the KotOR shit was poppin off.
>>4427057>Boslzoh = Jombaral (True)big if true
>>4427111>Inb4 she,like nearly all women of her generation that could access the force, banged Revan
>>4426987From her voluminous robes and the myriad of objects hanging around her neck, she produces a wooden fetish, carved into the shape of a Kakari holding a small child. Bos runs a her talons along its surface, and her eyes water as the arms of the caretaker come to wrap protectively around the child.“...Boscuatl was my most talented...so very foolish and romantic daughter,” she whispers softly, in a voice full of forlorn melancholy. “...and the catalyst for the downfall of our people.”That’s...! Well, it only hits you now, but she was young during the times of Revan. Speculating is far different from actually being presented with the living testimony before you. But the world does not so nearly revolve around the Jedi. And perhaps more importantly...Thankfully, you’re stilling down as you run a hand through your hair, and shakily exhale. “But that would mean that the Herald of Jombaral...he’s your grandson?”The corner of her lips twitches upwards. “Is that how you refer to the hatchlings of your own offspring? Grandson...I like it. Certainly saves me breath when trying to parse the difference.” Her amusement is fleeting, and her gaze hardens once more. “...but I am indeed the mother of the one who brought the Child into existence.”Age suddenly becomes a less concerning topic. All you can do is stare at the Grand Shamanka as she continues, “...perhaps it’s a sign of poor breeding for my little Boscuatl to have ended up the way she did. Although...” Her eyes narrow back towards you. “You said you saw the events leading up to the night of the taboo. Mayhaps, you didn’t happen to see too much of anything, hmmm? You little voyeur.”You nearly choke on your breath. Really, of all the things to take umbrage with! “Bos, this isn’t funny,” you snap, “I’m being serious.”“It’s either that or tears,” retorts the elder Kakari. “And I’ve been out of tears to shed for nearly four thousand years, and the last stash of hallucinogenic fungi were all destroyed in the ritual to drain the Great Sunstone. I am not so nearly whole and hale in both mood or body, so forgive me if I have to find some way to vent.”...it isn’t hard to otherwise notice how she’s dancing or otherwise skirting around the subject of the Herald. Not that you can particularly blame her. The subject of the Herald’s lineage is only relevant insofar as much as whether or not it contributes to its defeat.Deciding to change the subject, you venture, “Does anyone else know about this?”“All Chieftain-Kings of Nest’s End are given the truth upon their ascension to the Obsidian Throne. Although...” She pauses, shaking her head, “I’ve had my fair share of assassination attempts out of some sort of misguided ‘penance’ or ‘justice’ just by association. Trax never crossed that line even in his darkest moods, but he wasn’t the first to otherwise treat me with scorn and apprehension.”(cont.)
>>4429726IT CONTINUESAlso DAMN she old.
I wonder if she met Kreia
>>4429726“And what about your apprentices?”Bos shrugs. “It would not surprise me if they deduced or puzzled out my identity. But they’ve done a good job at hiding their emotions or feelings about the subject.” The assortment of amulets and trinkets around her neck bobble and chime as she shakes her head. “And what about you, Jedi? What does this revelation change about your perception of me?”“...if you were around for that long,” you slowly begin, “...then you saw the way that the Child was being treated. Couldn’t you have done...something?”Her gaze hardens. “There was nothing I could do. My daughter followed her lover to another tribe. I warned her to stay in my clan, but the fires in her heart made her giddy and foolish. I had no authority over her. Even when the true nature of her taboo was discovered...there were those within the Communion who demanded both parent and child killed.”You don’t mean for the question to come out as too accusatory. “And how did you vote?”A snarl escapes her lips. “Have a care, Jedi. Even if the Child was my kin, the past is the past, and his deeds now as the Herald of the False Mother speak more for themselves than any maudlin reverie of ‘what if’s.“But if you must know, I was ordered to recuse myself on account of my relation to both as their kindred.” Bos pauses, considering before carefully intoning: “I was there when her lover became one with the Accuser. I felt her grief. She was not...always cold to the Child. She pleaded very magnificently before the Communion for both her life and the Child’s.”That was underselling the vision. The image of the Kakari’s heart being ritualistically sacrificed isn’t about to leave your mind anytime soon. But there’s a minor point of contention that her testimony falls upon. “That isn’t what the vision implied. All the Child felt from Boscuatl was feigned love at the best, revulsion or disgust at the worst.”“As I said,” replies the shamanka, “Not always cold. But over the early years of the Child’s life, it seemed that the flames of her love were doused by the cold reality of the situation. It was the Accuser who put that egg in her belly. Not her lover. And she had to live with the stigmata of taboo on her back as well as living proof of her folly.”...what the hell is it with this planet and every other person (yourself included) having issues with mothers and parenthood? Sure, the Force works in mysterious ways. But this is a very twisted part of your Trial of Spirit, almost like a bad joke taken a bit too far.You aren’t finished yet. Hesitantly, you venture, “...but if you could go back and intervene or otherwise have more of a say in the Child’s life...prior to all the mess before he ran away or without any knowledge of Jombaral...”(cont.)
Bos stares at you with milky eyes, and rasps, “The mood changes. Sometimes, I wake up wishing that I cornered the Child and put it out of its misery early on in its life. Even fewer, when coming off a mushroom-induced trance, I think about what would happen if I simply gave the pitiful soul a single embrace.”...ouch. Then again...tribal mentality. Maybe if Jombaral didn’t come along, the Kakari might have enjoyed space-faring technology or other more modern concepts. Like indoor plumbing, hydroponics, or social reform. You know several Jedi who would take severe umbrage with the Communion of Spirits.>>Do you have any other questions for Bos?>>If not, then we’ll automatically move to begin the journey to the Womb of Jombaral.>Custom question. [Write-in][QUESTIONS OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>4430109>Does the Herald know who you are? I expect it will come up if the Herald can see the family resemblance.>Do you have a connection to the twelve kakari gods? I couldn't help but notice that the sunspear carries only 6 stones. Are the other six with the false mother?>What will the Liar's Blade ACTUALLY do? Absorb the herald's souls into the accuser? He was a very powerful warrior already, with the Herald's souls, perhaps enough to face the False Mother....?
>>4430109>Do you have a connection to the twelve kakari gods? I couldn't help but notice that the sunspear carries only 6 stones. Are the other six with the false mother?>What will the Liar's Blade ACTUALLY do? Absorb the herald's souls into the accuser? He was a very powerful warrior already, with the Herald's souls, perhaps enough to face the False Mother....?Support for these questions
>>4430125+, plus tell her what that last voice from the Accuser of Pilgrims asked us to tell her, that it wasn’t her fault.
>>4430125>>4430225>>4430297>>4430334I'm gonna be running errands for a while. But I won't leave you high and dry. The questions will be folded into the update for these choices.>>What will the Albatross be doing?>Ferrying you to the Womb of Jombaral. You'll need a quick exfiltration once you're done with the rescue.>Escorting the caravans of Kakari to the Heart of Kakari. They need your crew more than you need them.>>The following Clone Troopers are available:>Skipp, Alpha-class ARC Commander.>Oann, Field Medic.>Stye, Blaze Trooper.>Evo, AT-RT Scout Trooper.>Trykov, Logistics Officer.>Roppock, Infantry Trooper.>>Will you be taking any Clone Troopers with you?>Yes. You'll need some in case the Herald has any nasty surprises. [Write-in]>No. They're better off helping Octavia with the evacuation>>Please structure your votes as the following:>[Albatross choice.]>[Clone Choice - Clone Troopers][VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]
>>4430479>>Escorting the caravans of Kakari to the Heart of Kakari. They need your crew more than you need them.>>No. They're better off helping Octavia with the evacuationFarren has been soloing this hellhole since we landed. I see no reason to switch things up now.
>>4430479>Ferrying you to the Womb of Jombaral. You'll need a quick exfiltration once you're done with the rescue.I'm more concerned with the clones getting taken over again if we leave without them. >How easy would it be to use Force Sever on all of them to keep them off grid for a while?I kinda want to bring Stye for extra Force Fire ammo, but if we can't stop the Herald from trying to control them again I at least want to split how many he can try.
>>4430479>Escorting the caravans of Kakari to the Heart of Kakari. They need your crew more than you need them.>No. They're better off helping Octavia with the evacuation
>>4430479>>Escorting the caravans of Kakari to the Heart of Kakari. They need your crew more than you need them.>No. They're better off helping Octavia with the evacuation
>>4430479>>Ferrying you to the Womb of Jombaral. You'll need a quick exfiltration once you're done with the rescue.>No. They're better off helping Octavia with the evacuation
>>4430488>>4430494>>4430575>>4430684>>4430715>>Does the Herald know who you are?“...I would be very surprised if he didn’t. Four thousand years of sending warriors in my stead to set the souls free...” Bos grimaces.n “...I sent so many to their deaths. At least one soul’s worth of memories could be more than enough to conjure a vision of my face and features. Even then, there’s still accounting what he did to Boscuatl...”But she doesn’t finish. The Grand Shamanka shakes her head, signing with her hands as if to ward off an evil presence. “...I don’t wish to speak of it. But I have every reason to believe that the Herald is more than aware of what and who I am to him. How he is going to react when I accompany you? Even I cannot say...”>>Do you have any connection to the twelve Kakari gods? I couldn’t help but notice that the sunspear only carries six stones. Are the other six stones with the False Mother?“To be a shamanka is to be the bridge between the dead and the living. That is why we are a Communion. As for the gods...” Her eyes glance towards the tip of the Sunstone Spear, protruding almost innocuously from behind your back. “We likewise pray or otherwise ask for their blessings no differently than you or any other off-worlder might...”You cough. There’s no speaking for the likes of Suzel or Elbawaraak on their respective faiths. And the Clones don’t believe in anything beyond their mutual camaraderie and the next mission. But for Jedi, the subject of religion is...complex, to say the least. The Force isn’t something to be worshiped as much as kept sacrosanct and otherwise become attuned to.Even though you aren't the most active advocate, you still hold onto that belief.Bos doesn’t notice your inner turmoil. The shamanka continues, “Originally, there were twelve Godstones embedded within that spear, one for each deity within our pantheon, one for every one of the Twelve Great Tribes to hold onto.”Pulling the spear off of your back, you inspect the weapon. Bos approaches the embedded prisms with a subdued reverence, gently going over each of the six with her talons. “...tradition dictates that in the times of great calamity and disaster, that all Tribes gather within the Heart of Kakari and offer their Godstones to the Accuser.”The forlorn tone of her voice speaks volumes, and you can infer what happened. “You didn’t get the stones together in time.”“If only...” Her lips pull apart in a quiet snarl. “Four tribes followed the Herald and willingly surrendered their Godstones. Two others were annihilated and had their stones plundered from the ashes of their dead. With only six, the Accuser was only able to protect the inner sanctum of the Godseye, but little beyond that.”“...what exactly can these Godstones do?” you inquire.(cont.)
“There is little difference in function between them and the regular sunstones we use for daily use,” she readily admits. “But a single one could shine with the radiance of a star for decades on end, without having to receive a day’s exposure to sunlight. They shine brighter, burn hotter...and depending on the respective god, offer sunstone weapons unique properties not found in other mundane crystals.”Briefly, her eyes flicker towards the weapons at your belt, and the pouch that contains the singular golden crystal. “...I have pondered as to the similarities between your ‘lightsaber’ and our own sunstone weapons. For your weapon to match the blows of the Sunspear is no small feat.”It’s hard not to otherwise preen at her praise, both at acknowledgement of your skills as both a fighter and craftsman.“I would very much like to see for myself...” murmurs the shamanka softly, “...how compatible your own sources are to our own sunstones.”The thought is something you certainly thought of before. Maybe take a sunstone, whittle it down into something that could more easily fit into a lightsaber...wouldn’t that be an interesting thing? But tempting as it is to start experimenting with your weapons, there are still far more important things to worry about.“...when you pray to your gods,” you venture before changing the subject, “...do they answer back? Have they given you any advice on how to handle the situation?”Bos’ smile is enigmatic. “That’s not a question I’m sure you want answered. Nor do the citizens of Nest’s End. Either way the answer goes, it only paves the way for further trouble, far more than it’s worth. They say that stupidity cannot be cured, but ignorance is just as much a blessing. Take it from the eldest shamanka who spent four thousand years pleading my case to higher powers...”>>What will the Liar’s Blade ACTUALLY do?“It is as I told you. Striking one of the Herald’s cores will instantly cause the souls to be freed-”“That’s not what the Herald said,” you quietly interject.She gives you a quizzical look. “You don’t trust me?”“You haven’t given me any reason not to so far.”“And to think I was so willing to be forthcoming to your little questions,” huffs the shamanka. But she pauses, considering before shaking her head. “The Herald would seek to divide us and sow distrust among our ranks. I did not lie when I bequeathed to you the weapon. It will destroy the prison and set the souls free. The blade will not kill the Herald outright, but strikes dealt to it through the blade are anathema.”“...poison,” you translate skeptically.“Of a more spiritual sort...do try not to cut yourself on its edge. It has devastating effects on those sensitive and strong in the power of the spirits...”Duly noted.(cont.)
“Now, if you have no more questions...” Bos stands up from the crate, dusting off her robes and stretching as best she can. “It seems that at the end of four thousand years, I’ve finally been forced into battle once more. Let me see this through to the end, Jedi...for both my people’s sake, as well as my own.”>Bos strong-armed her way into the party.>>Later:The announcement of your plan to your friends and allies don’t nearly go as smoothly as you would have liked. Octavia damn near pops a blood vessel at your intent to trade the services of the Albatross for one of her Sheathepide shuttles to venture into the Womb. Skipp flat out refuses to allow you to go without an escort. Suzel and Elba (speaking through HK-82) express similar points of discontentment.“I knew it...” groans an aggravated Octavia, “...this alliance isn’t nearly worth the headaches your Jedi antics are causing me, Gaelle.”“Sir, with all due respect, might I ask what the hell you’re thinking?” demands Skipp, “The Herald just threw not only the sink, but the entire damned kitchen towards Nest’s End. What makes you think that it’s just going to let you into the Womb without any resistance-”Suzel grimaces, venturing, “Boss, I can’t just let you go. I owe you for saving my life from the damned plants...and that scary Jedi master of yours isn’t going to be happy if we go back home without you onboard.”“Wrraaaaaaaaaaaah!” cries a distressed Elba.“Translation,” adds a helpful HK-82, “The life-debt I owe you has not yet been fulfilled.”B-33’s optics hum and chitter. “This unit calculates low odds of survival. Would you not consider adding more to your retinue for this venture?”One by one, you address their concerns accordingly: “There’s plenty of headache medication in the holds of the Albatross if the Globus is running low. No, I think he wants me to come...if not to kill me in person, then just to otherwise gloat or try one final bargain with Master Kosa. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to pay me back, and don’t worry too much about Master Larid, okay? The life-debt you owe me will be best served by you helping the evacuation effort. Never tell me the odds...and you’d be best placed alongside Octavia to coordinate the logistics.”Some see your reasoning, and begrudgingly accept. Others (read: Skipp) raise ten kinds of hell and only agree under extreme duress. But at the very least, obtaining a spare shuttle from Octavia isn’t quite as nearly a hassle. “Plenty to go around”, according to her own words.Although that snide remark about not missing one if it ends up getting scrapped had been quite concerning.(cont.)
“This will be my second time flying in one of these...metal boxes,” muses Bos as she settles into the passenger area. The elderly Kakari makes herself comfortable as you take the helm, going over the controls with an assistant B1 droid. A courtesy from the commodore. “And the first time not nearly flying while under attack.”“Don’t get too comfortable,” you warn her as the ship powers up, “I don’t know the way down into the Womb. And I’d rather not have to try and contact the Herald for directions...”She waves away your concerns, fascinated with an automatic water dispenser. “Fly first towards the southern tunnels. Take the right-most tunnel...don’t worry about the height or width. The path to the Womb has to be large enough for monsters the likes of Tall Walkers and Harvesters to go to and forth.”You try not to grimace as the Grand Shamanka discovers the miracle of air conditioning...and the heated padding of her seat. And desperately try to put the satisfied groan at the discovery of the massage feature.“Don’t worry, sir,” preens the voice of your B1 copilot, “You can count on me if we get lost!”...Force help you.>>Roll 2d6 + 7 Piloting. [+3 Finesse, +1 Skill, +3 Assistance]>Best out of three.
Rolled 1, 3 + 7 = 11 (2d6 + 7)>>4432293
Rolled 6, 2 + 7 = 15 (2d6 + 7)>>4432293
Rolled 3, 3 + 7 = 13 (2d6 + 7)>>4432293
Rolled 1, 6 + 7 = 14 (2d6 + 7)>>4432293
>>4432300>>4432302>>4432307>15Beyond the odd stalactite formation and worrying earthquake, the journey to the Womb is otherwise devoid of any interruptions. Once having gotten over the discovery of modern technology, Bos joins you in the cockpit to provide navigational directions. The tremors and weakness of her act with the Great Sunstone haven’t quite nearly faded away, but her strength has returned to the point where she can limp without aid.As you approach the last set of tunnels, the ship begins to lurch or otherwise groan. You struggle with the yaw and thrust for a tense moment before you manage to stabilize. Blinking, you squint at the dashboard and all of the alerts blasting across your screen. “The hell was that?”“Uh...we’ve just passed a hundred kilometers, sir,” chimes the B1 copilot with its iconic nasally tone.Blinking and utterly perplexed, you ask for an elaboration. “Seventy meters? That’s impossible. I know for a fact that we’ve made over a thousand klicks.”“Sorry, sir. Seventy meters below sea level...erm. Surface level,” corrects the droid, “It seems that there’s a noted difference in the atmosphere and pressure between Nest’s End and wherever the shamanka is leading us.”Bos frowns as the shuttle speeds into a cavern even larger than the World Beneath. Lattice-like organic structures are scattered along the cave floor, the walls and ceilings. Overhead, beams of light from unknown sources mark scattered areas of green among the otherwise dark and moody blues. Lichens and mushrooms, wild grass and thorny growths...“The Antechamber of the Womb,” the shamanka intones gravely, and raises a hand towards a source of light in the distance. “...you will need to set the shuttle down a bit away. From here, we must proceed on foot.”With a single flip of a switch, the searchlights come on, illuminating the floor. Dozens of creatures, either malformed by Jombaral or otherwise, cease their activities. They scatter from water pools and the few vegetation that struggles to grow. The droid brain puts firing solutions on some of the more larger ones...“Sithspit!” you curse as something flies directly into the windshield. Several somethings, as a matter of fact, almost a flock! You only have a brief impression of brown fur and black, beady eyes before they’re reduced to bloody smears along the glass, and you swerve to dodge the rest. “What the kriff?”Bos’ laughter is dry and devoid of mirth. “Porgs...it seems that the Herald has noticed our arrival and sent a little welcoming party.”The B1 copilot chimes nervously, “Uh, sir? They’re banking around for another run...their current trajectory is going to take them directly into our thruster intake, the reactor vents-”(cont.)
"...hold onto something, Bos."The Grand Shamanka doesn't waste any time, limping/scurrying towards the closest seat. To her credit, she only fumbles with the seatbelt for a handful of seconds before locking it in tightly.She nods sharply. "I'm secured-"You don’t waste time. Just as the murder of porgs prepares for a suicide run, you bring the ship around, and all three of its (somewhat modest) laser cannons to bear. There are dozens of the damned creatures, all staring at you with unblinking, soulless eyes as their screeches and calls reverberate along the walls of the Antechamber.>>Roll 2d6 + 4 Gunnery (+4 Assistance)>Best out of three.
Rolled 6, 2 + 4 = 12 (2d6 + 4)>>4433741
Rolled 3, 3 + 4 = 10 (2d6 + 4)>>4433741Yeah Kaz, fuck you.
Rolled 6, 1 + 5 = 12 (2d6 + 5)>>4433741Fuck these dumb fucking cashgrab birds.
Rolled 1, 1 + 4 = 6 (2d6 + 4)>>4433741Ah good, justice.
>>4433774Thank god you rolled late
>>4433774god has saved us from you.
>>4433743>>4433752>>4433753The laser cannons aren’t quite nearly calibrated to shoot at something as small as a porg. With that said, with three guns firing simultaneously, it isn’t too difficult to create a kill-zone. Hydraulic servos beneath the cockpit whine as the barrels track in independent directions, spraying in arcs for maximum effect.It’s impossible to hit all of them. But you come damn near close. Still, it’s hard not to wince at every odd noise and bump as the animals throw themselves against the shuttle’s chassis.Only once the flock is reduced to a pitiful dozen, the birds suddenly veer off and fly away into a side tunnel. Seems like the Herald bit off more than he could chew. Digressing from that...“Damage report!” you call. “How bad did they get us?”The copilot runs a quick diagnostic. “Minor damage, sir, nothing that can’t be buffed out. All it needs is a good scrubbing and a fresh coat of paint. Maybe more than one.”>>You manage to escape from the attack of the porgs without damage to the shutte.Getting stranded here...you don’t even want to think about it. It’s still very much a real possibility, but considering how the Herald directed the damned porgs to attack the shuttle’s engines and thrusters......this isn’t an encounter he wants you to be escaping.Exhaling, you take control of the stick once more and steer the ship back towards the entrance of the Womb. “I’ll set us down a dozen meters from the entrance. Keep the engines hot just in case we need to make a quick escape.”“Roger, roger.”“And stay alert for when those bastard porgs come back-”“He won’t try that again,” intones the shamanka cryptically from her chair.Together, you and the B1 share a quizzically look before both turn towards Bos. “...what makes you say that?”“We are known to him; I as the leader of the Communion, and you as the Jedi Interloper. He would not kill us from a distance after everything we’ve done. The Herald’s pride demands that he pull our guts out in person, without intermediaries or proxies.”Your copilot looks uncertainly back at you. “...sir, I don’t even have guts.”The last three years of otherwise slicing through Separatist Battle droids would beg to disagree. But trust Bos to be succinct and to the point. “...just be careful,” you caution to the B1 as you find a relatively level plateau. “And Force help you if we come back and don’t find you here.”>>Line breakFor all intents and purposes, the Antechamber isn’t any different than the surface of Kakarit. Certainly, perhaps just a tad bit hotter and more muggy to walk through on account of the change in pressure, but nothing otherwise too obtrusive. The abundance of plant life provides enough oxygen to not immediately require the use of a rebreather or breath mask, but you aren’t taking any chances.(cont.)
Finally caught up with this quest, and I have only one question.what happened to the mount we rode to the Heart? She still waiting for us right next to a Rancor nest?
You take the lead, leaping off the ship and onto the ground proper. The golden blade of your lightsaber extends with a snap-hiss, casting a brilliant shade of yellow against the muted blues and shadows of the Amphitheater. Extending your senses out with the Force yields a dense concentration ahead of you, right just where the thickest of the lattice structures begin to concentrate.Beyond a few wild animals (tainted or otherwise), there aren’t any unique signatures beyond you or the Grand Shamanka. You call back to Bos, cupping your hands over your mouth: “The way’s clear. Nothing out of the ordinary.”Limping and leaning heavily along her staff, Bos descends down the ramp on her own power. The Grand Shamanka takes a deep breath, tasting the air with a tentative tongue. The digit flickers hesitantly...and then without any warning, her eyes widen, and the digit retracts sharply back into her maw.“What is it?” you inquire, alarmed at her reaction. She doesn’t immediately answer. Bos releases a troubled breath, and the grip on her staff tightens until her knuckles are a even a paler shade than the rest of her already bleached scales. The muscle in her jaw quivers in an uncontrolled fury, and her eyes have dilated into pinprick-sized slits.“That...that white-scaled, nestles krixt! The clanless shxthia could not even...” Bos’ anger comes off in a furious wave, a roiling storm of emotions as she deviates away from Basic and slips into some of the foulest Kakari curses. “...beyond the pale of any taboo-!”“Bos, what the hell-”thoomEven before the first of the dust settles, your lightsaber’s back at the front, and your free hand reaching for a nearby grenade. The ground beneath your feet quivers at the movement of something just ahead of the structure. Not quite nearly the size of the Harvester, but something...big.“...the hell is that?” you whisper.Bos’ face is ashen as she joins your side. “...keep going, Jedi. We’re expected. It would be rude of us to make them wait.”“‘Them?’”But before you can press her for an explanation, she takes off, half-running with a frantic energy that gives her energy and swiftness in spite of her wounds. Not to be left looking the fool, you quickly follow after her. Even without using the Force to augment your speed, you catch up to her in little time, shielding your eyes at the sudden blinding light as the two of you enter the Womb of Jombaral.Of all the things you’d expected to see at the Womb, a giant tree was perhaps in the middle of the list, perhaps only a dozen from the last and more outlandish objects. The Womb is suffused with the energies of the Living Force, cocooning the tree in a nourishing, protective barrier. A ring of obelisks run around the tree, emerging from the stone cliff-side from which the structure grows.(cont.)
>>4435130Brighthorn is fine! She's waiting for your return at Nest's End, munching happily on a snizitrix flank steak as she watches the exodus onto the Globus.
>>4435131“It’s...peaceful,” you whisper profoundly, rooted at the sudden sensations that threaten to overwhelm you. “...I’ve never felt...such a deeper connection to the Force than-”The moment of serenity doesn’t last long. You might have gotten carried away in separating yourself from the concerns of the mortal world in perhaps far to more of a literal and final sense. But the noise that brought the pair of you into the Womb returns once more, an earth-shaking THOOM that causes you to nearly stumble.“...this is far worse a fate than I could have envisioned,” the Grand Shamanka mutters, bringing her staff to bear. The barbed attachments at its end catch and spark, and from that initial burst of flame, she draws its heat to conjure a ball of Force Fire in the palm of her hand. “...the gods have truly a twisted sense of humor for our final meeting to be like this.”You don’t even have the chance to get snippy, or otherwise demand that she stop being annoyingly vague. No more than a hundred meters in front of you, the earth erupts in an explosion of soil and dirt, showering the otherwise immaculate sanctuary of the Womb with filth and debris. And from the hole, a terrible claw emerges, digging into the ground to heave a terrible beast before you-“Boscuatl!” cries a dismayed Bos.You stare uncomprehendingly, first at your companion, and then to the horrific monster that prompted her daughter’s name. The mother of the Child who would one day become the Herald, twisted and mutated into an arboreal monster, a writhing, slavering mass of vines and hatred...“You don’t mean to say-”“Four thousand years have come and gone,” she snaps, “But a mother never forgets. You could pluck out my eyes, burn my nose and rip out my tongue...and I would still be able to recall and remember, and identify the presence of my children.”Then, to the monster, Bos pleads, “Daughter, it is I. Boscuatl, please...if you’re in there somewhere...I have many things to say, so many words that need to be taken back-”The Guardian of the Womb roars at the two of you, pushing itself in a frenzy to reach your position. It doesn’t...take steps as much as it propels itself on far too many tendrils of vines and tangled limbs. But just as you bring your respective weapons to bear, and as it draws its right arm back to crush you into the dirt...>>For actions taken earlier in the thread, a unique opportunity has appeared before you.REVENGE!It’s only at the last second do you notice the earth behind you erupting once more, showering the two of you in another cascade of dirt and falling debris. The ground trembles as yet another creature pulls itself into the Womb. But instead of another monster the likes of the Guardian to emerge, what crawls out from the hole...!“Sings-of-Splitting-Stone?!” you exclaim.(cont.)
>>4435167LETS FUCKINGG GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vU7XqToZso
>>4435167The divine beast still bears the lightsaber wounds you made along its body, charging headlong and headfirst into the Guardian. There is a sound like thunder, and a tremendous pressure as the two beasts collide only a handful of meters away from your position. The displacement of air nearly bowls the two of you over, and you only manage to pull Bos away just in time.Gratitude.DeterminationCooperation.Sings-of-Splitting-Stone doesn’t speak as much as it conveys emotions that you can read from its presence in the Force. But the message comes across and well-received, even as it struggles and grapples against the Guardian. The two behemoths screech animalistically, brawling for control over the other. It’s a rather barbaric and crude sight, one horrifically contrasting the otherwise serene and otherworldly beauty of the Womb.And it’s one that causes a grin to blossom across your face.“Holy shit,” you murmur, half-stupid and half-amazed at the sight of two colossal titans battling each other out. Brushing the dirt off your robes as you help Bos up onto her feet. “Are you okay?”The Grand Shamanka spits out a ball of dirt. “...the worst fears that I had for my daughter have not only been confirmed, but exponentially worsened. Four thousand years of suffering, trapped in that monstrous form and mutated even far beyond the pale of the likes of the Tall Walkers or Infected...”...she isn’t fine, but her fighting spirit hasn’t quite faded away. If anything, the sight of the Guardian has lit a fire underneath the aged Kakari. Standing up once more on her own two feet, she spins her staff and manifests another ball of fire in her empty hand.But just as you're about to sprint after the brawling beasts, Bos grabs at the sleeve of your robes, and jams her staff at the hem of your cloak. Sputtering, you turn around to demand what the hell she's doing, only to stop at the forlorn expression on her face.“Go,” the Grand Shamanka whispers, shoving you in the direction of the tree. “This is not your fight, nor Sings-of-Splitting-Stone’s. This is my destiny, Farren. I’ve been waiting for this meeting for a very, very long time. Dreading it? But perhaps it was inevitable that I would see my daughter one last time before my death.“Your destiny lies in that direction, far away from the concerns and drama of the Kakari and the creatures of our world. Rescue your Jedi Master. Complete your training. Leave the two of us to the Guardian and fulfill what you had originally set out to do by coming to this world...”>>What will you do?>Argue that you need Bos more than Sings-of-Splitting-Stone. [Farren & Bos vs. The Herald of Jombaral]>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]>Stay with Bos and Sings-of-Splitting-Stone to destroy the Guardian. [Farren, Bos & Splitting-Stone vs. The Guardian of the Womb.][VOTE OPEN FOR SIX HOURS]
>>4435221>>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]Our time has come.
>>4435221>>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]
>>4435221>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]
>>4435221>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]Let's avoid any death flags like "You better be alive when I come back".
>>4435221>>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]I'm gonna be pissed if Boz bites it.
>Stay with Bos and Sings-of-Splitting-Stone to destroy the Guardian. [Farren, Bos & Splitting-Stone vs. The Guardian of the Womb.]
>>4435221>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]>"If you need help, send me a message, okay? Her mate had a parting message for her that might calm her down."
>>4435221>Heed the Grand Shamanka and proceed to face the Herald. [Farren vs. The Herald of Jombaral]Fina-fucking-LY! Space Vietnam can go to hell. It traumatized our blueberry fuck buddy, nearly had our clone-bros kill us, tried to diddle us with plants. FUCK this place! Good fucking riddance to this hole and any green shits down here. I'll pop some fucking champagne when the Empire slags it.
>>4435221>>Stay with Bos and Sings-of-Splitting-Stone to destroy the Guardian. [Farren, Bos & Splitting-Stone vs. The Guardian of the Womb.]
>>4435221Ay Kaz, I’ve been here since before The Great Arotta Saltpatch and I want you to know the thought of such a kickass Kaiju Fight was fucking amazing and I hope we get a Kaiju Fight Omake at some point
>>4435233>>4435242>>4435265>>4435319>>4435377>>4435386>>4435395>>4435407>>4435970>>4436030>>4436056There isn’t much you can offer. All you can do is match her stare, give a sharp, determined nod, and clasp her hand tightly.“...as they lay dying, the Accuser told me to tell Bos that it wasn’t her fault,” you intone. Bos stills, but the grip on your hand tightens. “At first, I thought that they were talking about you...” But your gaze turns towards the Guardian, charging forward in a reckless headbutt. “...and I think I know which one of the fifty was speaking to me in that instant...”Bos’ throat warbles with emotion. “...how typical of them to cause trouble even after their deaths...” But you can feel the power gathering within her, and a remnant of her prior fire returning in her eyes. “...may the spirits be with you, Farren Gaelle.”“...and may the Force be with you, Boslzoh.”There isn’t anything more you can say after that. Releasing each other’s hands, the two of you rush towards your respective destinies, hoping to see a new beginning at the end of all this...>>Line BreakIt might have been a sacred place, once. The pillars and monoliths inscribed with Kakari text are indicative enough of some sort of structure, perhaps a temple or some sort of retreat. Time had seen the stones weathered, the engravings faded, and the air was charged with a certain mustiness of unaired space. But the last four thousand years have seen a new addition to the mess.Sprouting from nearly every open surface are great ropy vines, green and brown lengths of bark and leaves, twisting and entwining over every surface. Some of them stretch from seemingly random angles, connecting the ceiling, ground, walls and even some of the ancient stones in some puzzling arboreal web. They had grown so much that they had even pierced through the ceiling and the earth, spreading out beyond the great tree and into the Womb of Jombaral itself.Nothing within the ruined temple had been spared their growth. And lying in the center of the room, hanging from the ceiling like a piece of meat, Jedi Master Uyer Kosa hadn’t been spared.Kosa looks as if she’d nearly wasted away. Decades of Jedi training to hone her body into a fine weapon have all been but undone over the course of a month. Her skin stretches tightly, too tight, directly over her bones. Her arms and legs look no differently than twigs, and her ribs stand out plainly, easily counted. Even her waist is dangerously thin, as if whatever had wasted away her flesh hadn’t spared her organs as well.The only parts of her body that appear to have any substance are where vines penetrate through her flesh. Just like the rest of the throne room, the vegetation had bored through the master, connecting to all of her limbs, even to her chest and midsection. As far as you can tell, only her skull is devoid of any sort of fiendish connection.(cont.)
But her face is horrifically gaunt. The flesh of her cheeks is sunken, and her eyes have nearly receded into their sockets. They still move, but only just fluttering at the horrified noise to come out from your throat. They blink at the sudden change in light, before focusing painfully slowly onto you.“...Padawan Gaelle...?” the Twi’lek rasps from cracked, parched lips.“Master Kosa!” you whisper, appalled a at her appearance.But before you can rush to her rescue, she strains against her bonds, hissing, “...if you’re real, and not some vision induced by delirium...flee this place-!”“I am very much real,” you insist, cutting her off and cautiously advancing forward. The golden blade illuminates the vines along the floor, and you’re deadly careful to not step on any connected to the Jedi Master. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”“Larid...isn’t gonna let me live...this one down...” The master shakes he