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You squeeze the hilt of the training saber slung at your hip, your muscles tensing and relaxing as you and the other students watch the duel before you. It is a sight you've seen a hundred times--a thousand times, even--within the stone training halls of the Sith Academy.

But you aren't watching for simple enjoyment. Each duel is a lesson, a chance to get a look at the styles and habits of the students fighting each other. Your eyes flicker left and right, trying to keep the movements of both Tuija and Shassanis in view. The former is a female Twi'lek, short but sturdy with yellow skin that contrasts sharply with her black tunic. She wears a constant frown, one that deepens into a scowl as she drives forward with the training saber.

Her opponent is a male Falleen, tall and with green skin that is uninterrupted by body hair of any sort, except for the single braid of black hair hanging off the back of his head. He parries the Twi'lek's thrust, stumbling to the side awkwardly. His confident smile cracks for only the slightest moment, but quickly returns as he regains his balance. You hear the soft click-click of his many rings against the hilt of his saber, an unusual luxury for the teachers to allow--you're still not sure why they allow it.

"Don't overreach," the Falleen scolds Tuija. Just loud enough for you to hear at the edge of the circle surrounding them, but not so loud that it reaches the blademaster in the back of the room.

Tuija's furious expression has already reached its limit, and she lets out a hard grunt before launching herself at Shassanis with renewed force and speed--both good attributes in a Sith combatant, but only when under control. Shassanis avoids each blow, blocking some and simply sidestepping the rest.

The rest of the students in the room are watching just as intently as you are, and almost certainly for the same reason--to gain an edge over one another. The academy is kill or be killed, in the most literal sense. This current duel will end well before anyone is seriously injured, but there will inevitably come a battle when one student falls, never to rise again.

Then, there is the other potential reason so many onlookers have gathered. Aliens are rare at the Sith Academy--though not as rare as they used to be--and a fight between a Falleen and a Twi'lek is something of a spectacle. A Twi'lek being accepted as a student is bizarre enough, but a Force-sensitive Falleen is downright unheard of. There were those in the academy--teachers and students--who wouldn't have minded seeing the two aliens kill each other. Only Humans and the red-skinned pureblooded Sith would ever truly be accepted, no matter how much things changed.

>What species are you?

>>2194846
Human.
Blonde, gray eyes, tall, face chiseled like a vigeland sculpture.

>>2194846
I'll support this >>2194854
Although I don't know what a vigelamd sculpture is chiseled like. I'm trusting you anon!
Also white, gotta fit in.

>>2194846
wookie

>>2194846
Wookie

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>>2194885
Lets be friends anon

>>2194846
>>2194882
>>2194885
>>2194920
Wookie.
Fuck being a Human.

>>2194846
Zeltron.
After all, the Dark Side is all about... passion.

>>2194846
Wookie

>>2194968
or

>>2194988

NO human.

>>2194854
2nd for human

>>2194988
>>2194968

Your own experience with xenophobia at the academy was more mixed. As a crimson-skinned Zeltron, you had been mistaken by many of the duller students for a mixed-blood Sith. It wouldn't be uncommon for those with part-Human parentage to not have the distinctive face tendrils of a true pureblood. Even after the others learned your true identity, the passive respect they had given you seemed to persist, even if only a little bit. In a strange way, you regret the relatively easy experience you've had. Tuija and Shassanis have earned more than their fair share of scorn and derision, but that had only made their success over the years all the more significant. Word has begun to spread among the various Masters that visit Korriban, and even the most hateful of the academy's teachers now give them begrudging acceptance.

The fight, which has dragged on for minutes, slows. The two duelists are growing tired, and the rhythms they had established are beginning to break down. Tuija, who at first had attacked with such speed and ferocity, leaves herself open to counter-attacks by the more cautious Falleen. The practice sabers are heavier than most swords, and far heavier than lightsabers. Clearly struggling with the weight of the thing, Tuija hunches over into a guarded stance that allows her to rest the tip of her saber on the floor. Shassanis seems emboldened by the change in attitude, and steps forward to deliver an overhead strike. She manages to raise the saber just in time to block the blow, and the two stand locked in place, staring at each other from either side of their joined sabers.

Reaching out with your mind, you touch theirs. Not enough for them to notice, but enough for you to glimpse their respective emotions. Anger seethes within Tuija, as if she is deliberately stirring it up to mask some deeper emotion. Shassanis is confident, prideful--but that confidence masks an even greater fear of failure. You withdraw from their minds, careful to do so without disturbing them. Ordinarily, only experienced Force users would be able to accomplish such a feat, but you did not use the Force. To your people, mild feats of empathetic telepathy are as ordinary as breathing.

As your awareness of the ordinary world returns, the balance of the fight shifts.

>Who wins the duel?

>>2195065

Wookie was too hard, I want my person to be able to talk

>>2195069
Sorry dude, Zeltrons are boring.

>>2195065
The one who isn't resting their weapon on the ground mid fight holy shit.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2195065
1 - Tuija
2 - Shassanis

>>2195065
Tujia

The Falleen's overconfidence will be his downfall

>>2195073
Because being unable to speak and hated by literally everyone in the setting would be fun.

>>2195073
Only as boring as we make them.
Imagine a Zeltron swashbuckler type. Using a combination of the Force and our species' inherent talents to play mindgames with our foes. That whole "Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for... sister. So, you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too." type of thing.

>>2195065
In her exhausted state, Tuija cannot hope to force Shassanis' blade back. Instead, she makes a quick step to the side, then drives the hilt of her saber into his nose. The Falleen cries out and shoves forward as hard as he can, but the smaller Twi'lek is already moving further out of his path. Before he can turn his bloodied face back towards her, she summons the last of her strength into her tired arms and swings at the small of the back. Her saber burns hot and bright, crackling and sizzling as it delivers an electric shock that would hobble a Wookie. The next moment, Shassanis is lying flat on his face, unmoving except for the slight twitch of his fried limbs.

Practice sabers are far safer than vibroswords, but 'safe' is a relative term. It isn't unheard of for the losing party to require a few days in a bacta tank after such a defeat, though bedrest and shame are the more typical prizes.

Her face a complex mix of anger and triumph, Tuija approaches Shassanis and stares down at him. You can feel the anger radiating off of her in sickening waves, and you are sure she would give the defeated Falleen another blow if she had the strength to lift her sword.

"Enough!" comes a hoarse shout from the back of the room. You turn to see the crowd of students parting, and immediately step aside before the approaching blademaster can barrel straight into you. Ukarme is one of many teachers at the academy, but the nature of his portfolio--training students in eventual lightsaber use--means you see the man on a daily basis. With a long face and thin, black hair, the man cuts a ghostly figure made all the more unnerving by the roomy gray robe he seems to float around in.

The moment she hears Ukarme's shout, Tuija steps away from Shassanis. The blademaster marches toward them with long, measured strides, then stops before the Falleen as the latter pushes himself onto all fours. Ukarme squats down in front of him, and grabs his braid of hair to look him in the eye.

"Can you walk?" Ukarme says.

Shassanis nods, eyes cast downward to avoid meeting his teacher's withering gaze.

"Go to medbay." The blademaster rises to his feet, then dissapears back into the crowd of students like a ghost. Tuija walks towards you, but your attention has turned to Shassanis. Overcome with curiousity, you plunge yourself into his mind and feel for the shame you are sure is there. You find it, but it is far smaller a presence than during the fight. It is overshadowed by rage flaring within him, a fiery anger directed at Tuija, himself, the teacher--and you. Before those scorching flames can disturb you further, you withdraw from his mind.

>Which one is your friend? Tuija, or Shassanis?

>>2195230
Neither, we only interact with normies like humans and ""pure""bloods.

>>2195206
Tuija
If for no other reason than I like Twi'lek gals and raging sith berserkers

>>2195230
>Tuija
Fuck that Falleen, he's an asshole.

>>2195230
>Sith Academy
>Friends

either works for me. Or both. Although such a xeno conspiracy would no doubt draw concerted hostility of everyone else in the class.

>>2195264
Good. Thrashing any who try to move against us will only make us stronger in the long run.

>>2195230
I'm for no friends. That sounds like fun. If we have to pick however, I'll go

>Tuija

Your eyes meet with Tuija's as she passes you and joins the crowd of onlookers. It's not a nod of acknowledgement, but it's more than anyone else gets. You're not friends--that's a dangerous word in a place like the academy--but your shared status as aliens and outsiders has forced the two of you into something of a silent alliance. Shassanis might have formed a similar relationship with the Twi'lek, had their personalities not clashed so strongly.

Shassanis drags himself up from the floor, with not so much as a single helping hand offered to him. Not that he didn't have his share of allies. On the contrary, the flashy Falleen was popular for an alien. But to give him aid would have been to imply that he needed it, an insult worse than any other.

Once Shassanis is clear of the dueling ring, the low murmurs going through the crowd cease. The room is still and silent, the students waiting in rapt silence for someone to speak up. Practice duels are an opportunity to settle grievances or upstage a hated rival. All one has to do is announce the desire for a duel, and the duel will happen. It is technically permitted for the one being challenged to refuse the offer, but that is extremely rare. To do so would invite scorn, derision, and the predatory attentions of other students who are quick to pounce on any perceived weakness.

The seconds tick by, and eyes begin to wander. You are certain that the blademaster is about to call the day to a close. But then, the crowd parts, making way for one of the students. Loman Botos--an unremarkable-looking young man of Inner Rim origin. You've noticed him eyeing you as of late, and his attempts to cozy up to the purist clique at the academy are no secret. By making a show of defeating an alien in a duel, he hopes to curry favor with the humans and purebloods who would love nothing more than to see you beaten and bloodied.

What you hadn't expected was for him to make his move so soon. Your observation of him has told you that he is your rough equal in bladework. And in a duel where use of the Force isn't permitted, skill with the blade is all that matters. A loss in the ring is a great shame for any student, but for Loman the embarassment would be twofold. He would lose face in front of the teachers and his backstabbing peers, but also be shunned by the purists he seeks to curry favor with. Why take such a risk?

Loman stops at the edge of the crowd, pulls his practice saber from the loop on his belt, and points it at you.

"I challenge--"

>What's your name?

>Do you accept the challenge?
>Bonus detail: If you do not accept, on what basis do you decline?

>>2195357
I'm not great with PC names desu.
>Do you accept the challenge?
Yes.

>>2195357
Mynock, because our owner mistook us for one when she "inherited" the liner whose captain exhibited a disturbing case of lack of faith.

Yes

>>2195357
>Varrus

Yes, accept the duel

>>2195357
>What's your name?
Leera
>Do you accept the challenge?
Of course. His shame when we're finished with him will be exquisite.

>>2195357
Rhone
@©©€¶¥ the duel

>>2195357
"I challenge Leera Varrus," Loman declares.

Your decision began the moment he emerged from the crowd, and ended before he had finished speaking your name. You step forward, pulling your saber free of your belt and giving it a casual twirl. You say nothing, careful not to meet Loman's gaze as you try to give the impression that you were fully expecting the challenge. It seems to work--as you take your position across from him and turn to face him, you catch the barest glimpse of surprise on his face. It vanishes quickly, and he meets your dismissive glare with one of determined intensity.

You may be putting on a show of disinterest, but you're not an idiot--internally, you're racking your mind to figure out how to best begin the fight. Blade training is a regimented program dictated by Ukarme, meaning you weren't able to watch Loman and figure out his preferred fighting style--he went through the exact same motions you did. Every student worth their salt trains on their own as well, but such a thing is done in private to prevent just the sort of spying you would have liked to have done.

But just as a weapon is an extension of its wielder, a person's bladework is a reflection of themselves--and you know Loman. He's careful--paranoid, even--but when he sees weakness, he pounces on it with reckless abandon. That's what has you so worried about this duel. What apparent weakness did he perceive in you?

Regardless of his deeper intentions, your only worry now is winning this fight. It has been nearly nine months since you've defeated someone in the ring, and such a thing cannot continue for long before whispers begin among the other students. Humiliating Loman will mean defeating a fledgling rival, warning off any other potential threats, and drawing the attention of the teachers and Masters who ultimately decide your fate at the academy.

>What blade form do you begin the fight with?

>Makashi - A patient form that relies on fine footwork and precision strikes.
>Soresu - A defensive form focused on non-lethal strikes.
>Ataru - An acrobatic form that seeks to overwhelm an opponent.
>Djem So - A derivative of Soresu that turns the enemy's strikes into opportunities for counter-attack.
>Juyo - A volatile form that relies on careful control of intense emotions.

>>2195669
>>Juyo - A volatile form that relies on careful control of intense emotions.

>>2195669
> Makashi
I guess, the offensive style with less chance of mistakes.

>>2195669
>no Niman option
Damn. Ah well.
>Juyo - A volatile form that relies on careful control of intense emotions.
Nobody expects a Zeltron to be a berserker.
In case anyone doesn't know about the Forms and wants to read up;
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_I:_Shii-Cho
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_II:_Makashi
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_III:_Soresu
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_IV:_Ataru
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_V:_Shien_/_Djem_So
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_VI:_Niman
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_VII/Legends

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>>2195669
>Juyo - A volatile form that relies on careful control of intense emotions.

Let's rock

By the way, are we male or female?

>>2195669
Both hands on his saber, Loman slides his right foot back slightly as he assumes a ready position. His stances gives little indication of how he intends to approach the fight. It is conservative, but that could be intended to mask some deeper strategy. Not all students who come to the Sith academy have a mind for cunning, but the ones who don't quickly develop such a capacity--or they fail.

You ready your own saber, assuming a stance that neatly mirrors Loman's, except for the ever-so-slightly more aggressive angle of your saber. His eyes flicker to your weapon, and you can sense him growing more cautious as you approach each other. There is no bow, no proclamation of 'begin' by the blademaster, or anything else that heralds the meeting of your sabers. The clash of metal echoes off the walls, thrumming in your skull as you withdraw from the initial blow. What seemed so far away a moment ago becomes painfully real, and that opening salvo is all it takes for the two of you to reveal your strategies.

Loman swings his blade--and by extension, yours--high up over his head in a tight line, seeking to throw your arm out wide and open you up for a second attack--but you saw that coming. You work with the momentum, bringing your blade in a wide but fast arc to your rear, then upwards at Loman's exposed chest.

He's smart enough not to try and block it. He stumbles backward, an awkward movement that nevertheless keeps the fight from ending right then and there. You shout out at him, a frenzied battlecry meant to rattle him and inflame your own passions. Juyo is a form, but it is deeper than that--it is anger and fear and pride and everything else the Sith treasure, stoked into a raging inferno that is then channeled into every fiber of your being. Outward use of the Force may be forbidden in duels, but the Force is apart of all living things--and the instructors cannot forbid the internal channeling of it.

You swing your blade in wide arcs that must seem wild to the outside observer, covering as much area as possible as you seek to overpower Loman. Each blow staggers him, though he blocks them all with only slight changes in angle of his hilt. True to personality, he's using a defensive form that relies on an opponent exhausting themselves.

"You look tired," Loman gasps out between meteoric swings, clearly feeling some fraction of your own exhaustion.

And it's the truth. Loman might look like the underdog to an unexperienced observer, but your dominance comes at the price of a heavy fatigue that has begun to seep into your muscles. This fight needs to end--and soon. As doubt hooks its claws into the corners of your mind, you seek a calm place within yourself--an eye at the center of the storm you have created--and try to remember why you have succeeded where others have failed.

And why you will succeed this time, too.

>Why have you lasted so long at the Sith Academy?

>Brutality
>Cunning
>Skill in the Force
>A powerful patron

>>2195750
To Be Determined (soon)
I probably should have done that before the name, but I'm new to this.

>Cunning
>Skill in the Force

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>>2195804
>Brutality

>>2195804
>>Raw concentrated Brutality, standing still one second a flurry of rage and hate the next.

>>2195804
>Brutality
We've a distinct love of the old ultraviolence.

>>2195804
The impact of your saber again Loman's breaks you from your inward gaze, and you are reminded of why you have survived for so long. It is right there, in the tremendous force rattling your bones and making your opponent's knees buckle beneath him. You have won time and again because you embody the Sith teachings so completely.

'There is no peace. There is only passion.'

To the other students, it is a trite mantra that they recite while thinking about how much the stone floors hurt their knee. For you, it is truth. Every moment is struggle--not just against treacherous students or ill-intention teachers, but against one's own inner weakness. Loman may be blessed with a cunning mind that sees weakness and drives a wedge in the crack, but yours is the ocean tide that wears down even the hardest stone. Before you, he will shatter.

Filling your mind with images of Loman lying broken and writhing in agony, you hammer home your assault, turning pain into anger that builds and builds with each new blow. Still, he continues to stand, and that creates a flicker of doubt in your mind. You take that doubt, and you turn it into self-hatred that burns pure and bright along with everything else you feel.

It should have been enough--but it wasn't.

Loman staggers this way and that, his arms rattled by each careful parry, but his knees never touch the ground no matter how far his legs bend. Your strikes, however fast they remain, grow even wilder than before--your limbs shake and spasm with the powerful emotions you can no longer contain. You want to scream--and you do. The outburst fails to rattle Loman, whose attention remains focused on the movements of your blades. For all the rage and fury you are sure is evident on your face, he pays it no mind.

Instead, he strikes--and it's all over.

>>2195891
Your saber is in mid-swing beside you, at the nadir of its arc. Loman jabs you in the side of the stomach, winging you and spinning you around as you fall to the ground, howling in pain. Thousands of volts surge through you, burning everything from your scalp to the tips of your toes. You spin as you fall, and as your back turns to Loman you lash out with one more desperate strike, driving your heavy saber backwards with one hand.

Your saber meets resistance, and Loman screams. You can't summon the strength to turn around and see what happened. At the sound of his agony, all of the anger you had accumulated during the fight seems to vanish into thin-air, leaving you only with the sensation of fried nerves and burning muscles. As you lay there, breathing hard and reaching a trembling hand down to your bruised stomach, something strikes you in the back.

You just barely manage to crane your head up to see Ukarme staring down at you in disdain, deactivated practice saber in hand.

"The fight was over when Loman made contact!" He points the saber to something on the ground behind you--presumably, Loman. "Why did you strike him?"

You swallow, wetting a mouth that seems to have all the moisture sucked right out of it by the shock you endured.

"Now everyone knows that a victory against me will still end in defeat."

The words come out slow and weak, and for a moment you're not sure Ukarme even heard you. Then, he cracks a smile, and breaks out into a harsh, barking laugh.

"Take him to medbay." Ukarme points at Loman, and you watch from the floor as two students haul the unconscious young man from the training hall. No one helps you--you're grateful for the lack of pity--and it isn't until the room empties that you manage to haul yourself to your feet.

>Do you go to:

>Medbay
>The students' quarters
>Outdoors, and a nice view
>Nowhere. Remain in the training hall.

>>2195899
>Nowhere. Remain in the training hall.
Stew in our defeat. Let it fuel the wellspring of hate inside us.

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>>2195899
>Nowhere. Remain in the training hall.

Let us reflect on our pain

>>2195899
>Outdoors, and a nice view
someplace to scream

>>2195899
>Nowhere. Remain in the training hall.
turn that pain into skill and anger, and never lose again

>>2195899
Despite your injuries, you walk to the exit of the candle-lit training hall at a hurried pace.

Then, just inside the threshhold, you stop, uncertain of where you are even headed. Your injuries aren't serious emough for you to consider going to medbay and facing the man who defeated you. Shassanis will be there as well, and stewing in embarassment with a fellow loser seems even more unpleasant than meeting Loman.

And he had, after all, defeated you. You had made sure it cost him, but the surprise he will feel upon waking is scarce comfort. Academy duels are meant to mimic real fights, and if Loman's saber had been a vibrosword or lightsaber, you would not have had the strength for a retaliatory blow. You dont regret the way you ended the fight--it had lessened your loss of face somewhat--but a loss is still a loss.

Shoving off of the doorway, you turn around and face the training hall. The square, high-ceilinged room is ringed by eight pillars, illuminated by inward-facing sconces hung from the columns. The walls around the pillars are dark and barely perceptible, making the room seem as if it goes on forever in three directions. You walk back to the center of the room, and sit in a kneeling position at the very spot you fell a short time ago. You intended to meditate with the goal of turning your shame into some other, more productive emotion, but as you gather your thoughts your mind sticks on the image of your defeat and refuses to disengage from them.

"Peace is a lie," you whisper. Your soft voice just barely meets the stone walls that you know are out there, the words sounding strange and foreign by the time they reach your ears. You know that peace is a lie--your life has been a testament to that fact.

"There is only passion," you continue. Passion had flared out of control during your fight with Loman. You had poured anger and fear of defeat into your strikes, rewarding you with increased speed and stamina.

"Through passion, I gain strength." You pause after the second line of the Sith Code to consider your defeat. You had overpowered Loman for nearly the entire fight, and he had just barely managed to hold his own--until he had won.

"Through strength, I gain power." Before you can wrap your seething mind around that next principle, a voice comes from behind you.

"Strength is not power if it is not properly channeled," it says. The voice is too distorted by the chamber's echoes to determine if it is a man or a woman. Your back tightens and you turn your head just far enough to look behind you, but the speaker is shrouded in the shadows surrounding the dueling ring.

>Is the shadowy figure a man, or a woman? Your own gender will be the opposite.

>>2196483
A Man.

>>2196483
>woman

>>2196483
>Woman

>>2196483
Man

>>2196483
Woman

>>2196483
>Woman

>>2196483
Woman

>>2196483
"Who's there?" you snap, unable to contain your frustration at being interrupted. Steps echo across the stone, and a figure emerges from the darkness behind you. With red skin and a bald head, you immediately mark the man as a pureblooded Sith--until you spot the swell of purple fabric over the figure's chest, and realize it is a woman. Short, curving tendrils hang from her jawline like a fleshy beard, and between that and her hairless head you realize she must truly be pureblooded. Hair was brought to the Sith race by the human Dark Jedi they had mingled with, and the genetic trait had become nearly ubiquitous some thousands of years later.

"Did I frighten you?" she asks as you rise to your feet and turn to face her. She wears a purple robe, adorned with twin gold epaulets that glint in the candlelight. More gold lines her face, the pure red of her skin broken here and there by jewelry stuck onto it like gold leaf. Two yellow eyes burn a hole in you, as if your soul is an open book for her to read.

"You surprised me." You are tempted to simply say 'no', but it is clear that you hadn't sensed her presence. Instead of throwing yourself against her veiled insult, you will roll with it. "Most teachers avoid lurking in their fellows' classrooms."

Your tone is a bit uppity, but the way she approached you tells you that such barbs are exactly what she is looking for. You haven't met this particular woman before, but the teachers at at the academy generally want their students to give as good as they get--assuming they can back it up.

"I am not a teacher," she says with a smirk. Your muscles tighten and you swallow, a reaction that intensifies her growing smile. "Only an avid fan of dueling."

She is far too old to be a student, and you are inclined to take her at her word that she is not a teacher. Since pureblooded Sith who are not part of the Force-sensitive rulership are downright unheard of, that leaves only two options--she is either an Apprentice, or a Master. Either one means you are walking a razor's edge with every word you speak.

"Then you're a little late, my Lady," you remark. "Those ended nearly an hour ago."

She snorts in amusement. "Oh, I know. I watched them."

"All of them?" you ask tentatively. What you really want to ask is what she's still doing here.

"Oh, yes." She drives a thin finger into your bruised stomach, making you wince and step back. "I saw your embarrassing defeat."

You say nothing, doing your best to suppress any obvious show of the pain you're in.

"You've had long enough to ponder the matter." She withdraws her finger, folding her arms and stroking a chin tentacle thoughtfully. "Why did that other boy defeat you?"

>Well?

>>2196643
Because we chose our favourite light saber style instead of choosing one which properly countered his strengths.

>>2196659
This. We simply threw ourselves at his defences, like a sea crashes against a rocky cliff.

>>2196659
Juyo is trash desu. How many Sith are good at that whole "balancing emotions" shit anyway?

>>2196643
Because we fucking chose juyo

>>2196659
This.

>>2196643
"Loman is my equal with a blade," you respond. "But I couldn't predict what form he would open with."

"And you expect to succeed here while paying no attention to your peers?" the Sith raises a hairless, ridged eyebrow.

The dressing-down hits you right where it hurts, but you have the slightest suspicion that she is simply toying with you.

"I have watched him, my Lady. But he watches me, as well. His choice of form would be dictated by my own."

Her dismissive glare softens, and she gives a faint nod of approval as she taps her chin.

"You had him pinned as a defensive duelist."

"Yes," you respond quickly. And it's the truth--though it hadn't factored into your choice of form, and you're not sure where she is headed with this.

"So you decided on Juyo both as a surprising opening, and as a hard counter to both defensive forms." She speaks in a rising tone, excitedly following a train of thought that is not your own. In reality, those ideas hadn't entered your mind before the duel at all. In hindsight they seem obvious, but you were too worried about the nature of Loman's challenge to consider them.

"No," you sigh. You're tempted to claim her idea as your own, but you strongly suspect that she is trying to trap you in a lie. Better to admit your error, and own it. "I chose Juyo simply because it fits me best. Loman does not live the Code of the Sith, as I do. My passion is my strength, and I thought I could turn that strength into victory."

She purses her lips and stares at you for a moment.

"Strength must become power before it translates to victory," she says.

>>2196787
You nod absent-mindedly, expecting her to say more--but she seems to be expecting you to take up her train of thought. Brow furrowing, she jabs a finger into your chest, making you stumble back slightly with an unnatural strength.

"Do you think that you can utilize such a complex form by simply working yourself up into a big enough frenzy?"

You're tempted to respond in the affirmative--she said it so dismissively, but the words are still close to what you believed to be the truth.

"The teachers said--"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Teachers!" she spits. "You're too old to be trusting people so blindly. Did they not beat such stupidity out of you your first week here?"

All you can do is stare at her dumbly. The traded barbs have turned into a scolding, leaving you feeling very much like a student before a disappointed teacher. Indignation wells within you, but it is not a frustration you can unleash--not on someone of her social stature.

"Strength becomes power when it is properly controlled," she says slowly, speaking the words in a conspiratorial whisper that has you leaning in close. "If it were not so, any mad Kath hound could become a Sith Lord."

You nod slowly, suppressing your anger and forcing yourself to understand how true her words ring.

"You are not your passion, or your strength--you are the will that controls it. Remember that."

With that she spins on her heels and walks away, departing back into the gloom she had emerged from.

"Wait, Lady--" You stumble after her. "What was your name, my Lady?" You tentatively reach out into the darkness, but after a few more steps your hand touches the stone wall. There are no sounds of footsteps, and you are left with nothing but her words.

>It's late evening, and you're tired. Where do you go?

>The library
>The students' quarters
>Outside, to the academy grounds

>Some other place if you have a really good idea

>>2196789
>Attempt to find a lone place near a cliff and ocean, abs meditate with the force, attempt to feel everything around us, train the force

>>2196789
>Wherever someone would go to modify their lightsaber

>>2196789
>Outside, to the academy grounds

>>2196789
>Outside, to the academy grounds
The desert air will be refreshing compared to these stuffy halls.

>>2196789
>Outside, to the academy grounds

>>2196789
You step out onto one of the many balconies wrapped around the academy's balcony, all of which give a magnificent view of the canyon stretching out before the pyramid behind you. "The Valley of the Dark Lords," they call it, in reference to the dozens of tombs lining the canyon walls. All of them have long since been picked over by Sith pilgrims and scavenging non-believers, but the towering statues outside their entrances remain as silent guardians of the treasures once buried there. Not just trinkets, either--knowledge. Knowledge that has become such a precious commodity in recent times.

The teachers at the academy seemed to be unassailable Masters when you had first arrived, but as the years passed and your own power grew, they somehow became... smaller. More mortal, as it were. You find yourself noticing their own mistakes more and more often, which causes you to question their very rights as teachers.

You look upward, blinking against the night breeze. A chill seeps into your bones as you stare up at the stars. The colder blackness above is where the true paragons of Sith philosophy make their home--conquering entire worlds, extending their will over millions and billions of souls. Not down here, fine-tuning a pupil's saber form or delving into the minutiae of Sith history. All that concerns you is the practical, not dead kings and a deader past. If those ancient Sith were alive, it would be another matter entirely--but they are not, and they have no more secrets to reveal.

As your thoughts wander, you absent-mindedly touch the medallion hanging beneath your tunic. The necklace is nothing special, but the medallion, well--that is another matter entirely.

>Where is the Medallion from?

>A Korriban dig site
>A family heirloom
>A stranger gave it to you when you were young
>A girl gave it to you before the Sith took you from your family

>>2197182
>A Korriban dig site

>>2197182

>A girl gave it to you before the Sith took you from your family

>>2197182
>A girl gave it to you before the Sith took you from your family

>>2197182
>A girl gave it to you before the Sith took you from your family

>>2197182
>A family heirloom

>>2197182
The medallion may be special, but you're not sure if it's actually valuable. If you were to hold it out to the moonlight--a risk you're not willing to take--it would shine a radiant silver. But you've never actually had it tested, and have no idea what its made of. Nor do you know where it's from. All you remember is a young girl, her face a blur, placing it into your palm. That had been over a decade ago, almost certainly back on your home planet--a home you cannot even name.

The Sith had taken you from your family when you were very young, and you aren't sure if your family survived the encounter. For a long time you were angry, furious at the people who abducted you. Eventually, you came to a deeper truth. If it was not the Sith who shattered your life, it would have been something else--war, famine, criminals, disease--any number of threats in a cold, uncaring galaxy. There will always be tyrants, and there will always be threats. All one can do is make themselves stronger, and in doing so become untouchable.

You tear your eyes away from the stars and force them back downward, to the expanse of red rock and sand you now call home. Wherever you grew up, whoever you were--to call it a distant memory would be overly generous. The name and location of your home are unknown to you, and you had never been able to find anyone who could--or would--tell you it. Eventually, you simply stopped asking. Now, you know that anything valuable, be it information or power or wealth, isn't given. It is taken.

>>2197389
You turn away from the valley and walk back down the steps of the parapet you stood on, then head back inside. The hour is late, and only a few red-robed academy guards remain in the hall. With their finned helmets and ceremonial force pikes, they are like miniature versions of the ancient statues guarding the tombs outside. At first, they scared you. Now, they are just as much a part of your home as the treachery and danger you endure every day. You welcome the ugliness--if you can survive here, you can survive anywhere.

And you have not merely survived. You have thrived.

You make your way through the gray corridors of the academy, pristine metal walls and floors that contrast sharply with the weathered stone exterior of the academy. The building has gone through countless renovations over the millenia, and will likely see many more. A few flights of stairs and narrower corridors take you down into the students' section, with its living quarters and amenities. Most everyone else is asleep, and you are able to go to pass through the halls without running into anyone who can rub today's defeat into your wounded ego.

You are grateful for the quiet, and shut yourself in your bedroom before prying off your tunic. A large purple bruise has formed on the side of your stomach, and will likely remain there for some time. The price of not lowering yourself to receiving medical attention for such a minor injury.

Sleep comes the moment your head touches the pillow--and with it, dreams.

>>2197396
You are no stranger to nightmares. They come often, beginning as a pleasant dream that grows progressively more twisted and nightmarish until you awaken to a cold sweat. After that, you are left with a lingering feeling of dread and despair that does not depart until you've shaken off the last vestiges of sleep.

This one is different. Peaceful oblivion gives way to a vast stone hall lit by blue crystals in braziers, and you are immediately gripped by utter terror. The ghostly blue glow illuminates a path down the middle of the room, to a huge stone statue of a robed woman seated in meditation. On either side of the path are countless standing sarcophagi, half of them open. Hundreds of people are herded into the tombs by spear-wielding guards, then shut into the stone prisons amidst screams and cries. You walk slowly down that center path, until something sharp jabs you in the side and you stumble into the rows of sarcophagi beside you. You stop before an open one, heart pounding and chest heaving. You are jabbed again, and you turn around to face your tormentor.

It is a red-skinned brute of a creature, twice as tall as a man with the hulking body of an ape. The face almost appears like that of a Sith, but is far crueler and more alien. Long, fleshy tendrils hang from its jaw, shaking as it forces you to step back into the sarcophagus. The moment you do, it reaches out with a brawny arm and slams the door shut. Everything is black, and you are sure the dream has ended.

Then, you scream. Your terrified yells echo off of the claustrophobic walls of the sarcophagus, and you scratch at the door until your fingernails tear free of your hands. The pain, the fear, the righteous anger--it is unbearable.

But that too, ends. All sensations, physical or otherwise, leave. You drift up out of the sarcophagus, as if your soul has left your body behind. You see the vast hall you are imprisoned in, but that too vanishes as you drift up through the ceiling and into the red stone above. Faster and faster you move, stone turning to rock and then dirt before you shoot up into the distinctive red desert of Korriban. You soar into the sky, and your vision angles downwards to give you a startling view of the landscape growing smaller and smaller beneath you. Mountains, valleys, dried-up rivers--you can see it all.

>>2197540
And just fainly, at the edge of your vision--the triangular tip of the Sith academy. With that, the dream ends, and you jolt upright in your bed.

Stumbling to your feet, you clutch your medallion for comfort and look at your surroundings to confirm that you are back in the safety of your bedroom at the academy. Everything about the dream had seemed so real. Hell, it still seems real. You can feel your bloodied fingers screaming in pain, and you check to make sure that you still have all your fingernails. Breathing a sigh of relief, you lower your hands and slow your thoughts. Normally your dreams would quickly fade upon waking, but this one remains stuck in your mind. Every single image is burnt into your memory, and you are left with the absolute conviction that you have seen been shown something important.

>Do you tell someone about the dream?
>If so, who?

The blademaster, Ukarme, likes you, but has little patience for the more esoteric aspects of the Sith way of life. The academy Overseer, Harkun, would have the most power to investigate your vision, but is an administrator more than anything--not an archaeologist. There are several Apprentices at the academy, and have more time than the teachers--but less patience. You would need to think carefully about who to approach and how to approach them. You have the most connections among the other students, but like you they are forbidden to leave the academy grounds without permission.

There are almost too many people to consider. If you do not simply explain the truth of the vision in its entirety, you at least need some valid reason to venture into the wildlands outside the valley. Having an excuse in mind would inform who you would ask for a pass to leave.

You could pursue information about the vision on your own, but that would require shirking your duties as a senior student. That could cause you trouble, but those as old as you have more leeway than the younger trainees. Perhaps you should put the dream out of mind--at least for a time--and see if it still feels so powerful after a day's worth of exhausting lessons.

>If you don't tell anyone about the dream, do you investigate it on your own?
>If so, how?

>>2197552
>Do you tell someone about the dream?
No.
>>2197552
>If you don't tell anyone about the dream, do you investigate it on your own?
We need to hit some topographical maps, see if we can identify the location from the dream.

>>2197552
This. >>2197580

>>2197580
support

>>2197552
You skip morning meditations, and instead head to the library. Lord Versta will almost certainly notice your absence in his rows of seated students, but the old man is too lazy to pursue formal discplinary measures. You'll endure a few good whacks with an un-charged practice saber, then limp out of his office with your back bruised but your academic record intact. Not that such trivial things matter this late in the game. Years ago, impressing the teachers had been important. Now, the people who you truly need to catch the eye of are the wandering Lords who visit the academy in search of a promising student to take as an apprentice. Such an event had seemed so far away before, but within the past month, four of your similarly-aged peers have been taken from Korriban to serve under Sith Lords.

That was wake-up call enough, but the immediacy truly hit home when you spoke to that strange Sith woman after your duel with Loman. Assuming she *is* a Lord--and you suspect that she is, given her age and attitude--you came face-to-face with your first headhunter. You doubt that she has serious interest in you after your embarrassing display, but she *did* take the time to talk to you after seeing it... and Sith Lords do not waste their time.

The library is largely empty, save for a few other students who sit among the rows of computer terminals and tap quietly at their keyboards. You take a seat in a secluded corner and boot up the terminal, then begin searching the information contained within for anything resembling topographical maps of the surrounding area. The dream remains as vivid as ever, and you can still see the roadwork of canyons and valleys that lead to the pillared tomb entrance set into a mountainside. You doubt you would be able to find your way to the location blindly, but a map will allow you to identify landmarks more clearly. Then, you can come up with a plan to actually *get* there.

>>2197903
Because you *are* going to get there. Reaching that tomb and discovering the meaning behind your vision is not about base compulsion or curiousity, but about placing yourself head and shoulders above your peers in search of a Master. The tombs in and around the Valley of the Dark Lords have long since been picked over--or are at least thought to have been. If the tomb from your vision lies pristine and unsullied, you will become the talk of the academy. Better yet, there could be something waiting for you within that underground space--something truly special.

Your computer search goes quickly, partly because there is so little information to sort through. Korriban is cut off from the greater holonet, and all you have are the educational materials that the teachers provide. Luckily, archaeological maps of the area are one such element of their lessons. You pull up a map, and are delighted to see that the area it outlines is more than big enough to encompass the landscape from your vision. Dig sites are marked, with supplementary material provided that describes what they were and what was found within them.

Except... it looks different. Entirely different. The winding dips and divots in the ground snake in entirely different directions than in your vision, as if the rivers of dust and dirt have changed course after all these years.

And then, you realize that they *have*. Many of the tombs are thousands of years old. It is not unthinkable that the mountains and valleys simply changed shape after all that time. The tomb of your dreams could still be buried out there, lying under millenia of shifting rock and sand. That epiphany fills you with relief, but also leaves you with the very difficult question of just how exactly to go about finding something so well-hidden.

Then, a voice comes from behind you.

>Roll me some 1d2's
>1 means Shassanis, the Falleen man has approached you. 2 is Tuija, the Twi'lek girl.
>I'll come back in a bit and take the most common result. If there's a tie, I'll discard the last roll.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2197910
Which of these little shits is also skipping class? That's a paddlin'.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2197910

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2197910

>>2197948
20 points from Hufflepuff!

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2197910
2 lords

>>2197910
"What are you doing?" comes a heavily-accented voice from behind you. You twist back in your seat to see Tuija's yellow lekku hanging inches from your face, her sharp green eyes flickering back and forth as she examines the map you have pulled up on the terminal. You turn back and tap a button on the keyboard, jumping back to an earlier file listing and discarding the image.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asks, a bit of annoyance evident in her voice.

"No," you respond coolly. "I'm done here."

As you rise from your chair and walk past her, a hand grabs your wrist. Tuija isn't as big as you are, but she's strong enough to bring you to an abrupt halt.

"You should be practicing with the blade, not burying your mind in maps."

You pull your arm free, and resist the urge to snap back at her. You remember what the Sith woman told you about control--anger is to be used purposefully. And here, there is nothing to be accomplished through harsh words and posturing.

"I appreciate the concern." Your words drip with far more sarcasm than you intended, and Tuija's anger-creased face looks almost wounded for a moment. It quickly hardens again. "What are *you* doing? You're never in the library."

"Lord Versta sent me to find you."

You wince at the mention of the old man. You hadn't expected him to go to such trouble for a single student, especially one he *had* to know isn't so easily cowed by authority.

"Maybe I can tell him you are bed-ridden from your duel," Tuija offers. "You could not stand to sit for morning meditation."

You eye her doubtfully. "You would do that for me?"

She leans past you and points at the computer terminal. "I want to know what you were doing."

You know Tuija. Once she gets her hands or mind on something, she won't stop until it's bent to her will. You could walk off without another word, but you don't see the point in pissing her off. Throw her a half-truth, and she'll gnaw on it happily.

"You said it yourself," you reply. "I was looking for maps. I didn't find what I was looking for."

>>2198161
Tuija stares at you blankly, and you edge past her to leave. This time, she does not stop you. As you near the door, Tuija shouts from behind you.

"You need old maps, don't you? I have old maps!"

You turn to see that every head in the room has looked up from their respective terminals. Half the eyes are on you, the other half on the shouting Twi'lek. You stride back over to her, throwing up an apologizing gesture to the disturbed students. What Tuija said strikes a chord with you. Old maps are exactly what you need--you could overlay them on the current one, then mark the location of the tomb entrance from your dream.

Unfortunately, such a map was nowhere to be seen among the computer system's limited cartographical archives. There were *some* older ones, but even those looked closer to the current layout of Korriban than to your vision. Others were so stylized as to be useless for practical purposes. What you need are accurate maps, millenia old.

>Do you take Tuija up on her offer? She may demand more information eventually, but you don't have to tell her everything--or even include her when the time comes to leave.

>If you do not accept Tuija's help, you will have to seek such maps elsewhere--likely among the staff who would have access to such things.

>There is also the option of simply venturing out into Korriban's wilderness in the direction of the tomb and trusting in the Force as your guide.

>>2198179
>Do you take Tuija up on her offer?
yes, but make sure you make a deal in our favour, to know we cant get fucked over, giver her an exact wording to repeat

>>2198179
The only reason she'd be helping is if she thought it would benefit her in some way. She's after something she thinks we can find or provide, obviously.

Juyo is shit anyway. Even Vaapad is heavily flawed.

Why wasn't Niman on the table anyway? It's the most popular form of the day, with so many retards running around dual wielding and swinging around saberstaffs.

>>2198255
shoulda done makashi

>>2198266
Nah, Old Sith Wars Era Makashi after the Sith Civil War is kind of shit.

Most things are, this is pretty much the lowest point of powerscaling in the lore but that's beside the point.

Ataru or Djem So would have been best.

>>2198255
>saberstaffs
I honestly really fucking hate that name for double-bladed lightsabers. It's not a staff of any sort, because you can only hold it one way. It's literally two swords with their hilts stuck together in order to be extra killy.
And yet ToR decided to give them to the CASTER classes, because "herpaderp it's a staff, guys".

>>2198285
i would support makashi or ataru, and dooku was awesome

>>2198179

>Do you take Tuija up on her offer? She may demand more information eventually, but you don't have to tell her everything--or even include her when the time comes to leave.
>>2198255
My guess is we didn't use Niman because, from what I understand, it makes heavy use of the Force and we aren't allowed to use Force Powers in practice duels it seems.

I'm personally a big fan of Juyo, but it does not seem like Leera has the discipline to use it well quite yet.

>>2198285
What about Count Dooku? He was a Makashi master and an exceptional lightsaber duelist. I bet we could become dangerous with it with a lot of training, or went so far as to get a curved saber to complement it.

>>2198366
Those are the stealth/dps classes too though, two of the three specializations of those classes aren't casting.

There are two paths in each class and three specializations in each of those.

>>2198375
Oops. My post was supposed to be a vote toward taking Tuija up on her offer.

>>2198375
Dooku was an end of the Republic Jedi Master/Banite Sith.

He's a cut above anyone of the current Era except for Vitiate. And even then in a pure physical contest or even a duel in a confined space Vitiate would get facefucked.

>it makes heavy use of the Force
Niman is the most adaptable lightsaber form, it can use the force but it can also be a relatively balanced and versatile style with the blade. It does work best with the Force though.

>>2198379
That's one of many issues I have with ToR's class design, honestly.
For some reason Shadow winds up a sub-class of Consular, and Assassin shares a superclass with Sorcerer.

>>2198410
It makes sense with the powers those have in-game and lorewise though.

>>2198179
Take her up on her offer.

>>2198179
"What do you mean?" you say to Tuija. "How do you have old maps?"

She glances off to the side and shrugs. "I have *access* to old maps. Very old maps."

You can see where she is going with this. The library's digital archives might be limited, but the academy is a wealth of poorly-sorted knowledge crammed into the studies and personal archives of the many teachers here. Assuming Tuija is telling the truth, she must have an in with one such hoarder of knowledge. Pursuing that lead on your own is theoretically possible, but impractical. The Lords of the academy guard their secrets well, and you wouldn't know who to begin probing for information.

"Alright," you say. "How do we get these maps?"

"Lord Hostay," she says.

You cringe at the name. Hostay was one of your earliest teachers, a pureblood who harbors far more interest in Sith history than you could ever muster. The man was an old bore when you had first arrived as a child, and you are sure that the years have been as unkind to his mind as they have been to his body. In a way, that could be good--he could be more pliable.

"He'll let you see them?" you ask her tentatively.

"He likes me," she responds simply. You nod slowly, and then your expression turns to one of horror.

"Don't tell me--" you start, but Tuija shoots you a sharp glare.

"I show interest in his *work*," she snaps.

That was something you had never done. Perhaps you should have at least feigned polite deference, instead of making your boredom known. But you had been young, angry, and defiant. Those traits still lie within you, but training and the wisdom of young adulthood has sharpened those blunt instruments into powerful tools.

"Alright," you say. "Give me a moment." You sit back down at the computer and unhook your personal datapad from your belt, then plug it into the terminal and copy over the modern maps of Korriban. Once that is completed, the two of you leave and proceed into the main hall of the academy, a towering space that runs up the center of the pyramid. Halls and stairwells intersect in a baffling labyrinth, but it is one you know well.

You ascend several floors, then make your way to Lord Hostay's classroom. The gray-walled room is empty, and you continue on to his office. Metal walls and panneled floors give way to beige stone, a room that looks to have been here since the original structure was built. Long ago it had been either a temple or tomb--even the teachers weren't sure which--which made the crypt-like room an especially fitting place for you to find Lord Hostay.

>>2199584
"Yes?" comes a weak voice as Tuija knocks on the door. She uses the wall-mounted controls to slide it open, and you are greeted by the ancient visage of a rusty-skinned Sith seated at a desk. He is surrounded by bookshelves of pale wood, all of which are piled high with absurd numbers of dusty tomes and crinkled scrolls.

"Lord Hostay." Tuija gives a slight bow, but the man just stares at her with his mouth hung slightly open. At first you are convinced he is surprised, but then you realize that he simply cannot close it.

"Ah, Tuija!" he croaks out, rising from his seat with great difficulty. He walks with the aid of a gnarled cane, one that looks to be hewn from the same trees as his bookcases. You bow as well, but he doesn't seem to even notice you. "What can I do for you?"

He is nicer than the other teachers--far nicer. At least to Tuija.

"We wanted to see if you had maps for the area around the valley--old ones. Very old." She gestures to you, and Hostay finally makes note of your presence. "Leera believes he has found something."

You go rigid at the mention of you 'finding' something. Still, Tuija has no idea what it is you've discovered. You hardly know yourself.

Hostay eyes you doubtfully. "The burial valleys have been well-explored. Everything we know is contained within the library's archives." He speaks slowly, with a voice that shakes terribly. "What do you hope to find in ancient maps?"

Tuija stares at you just as expectantly, and you hesitate. You had decided before to pursue this dream without the aid of your teachers. But, as absurd as it sounds to you, Hostay could be useful. If you can convince him that you have found something, he is well-positioned enough to get you access to a cruiser. Braving the wilds of Korriban on foot would be dangerous, *especially* if you did so on your own. You are reluctant to divulge the location of a potentially valuable find, but Hostay is far too old and un-ambitious to try and claim whatever is there as his own. You are confident that should you find something, he will at least publicly recognize your contribution.

Cutting Tuija out would be ideal, but that is impossible. She is the one who knows Hostay, and she is the one he trusts. Including him means including her. You don't have to tell them about the dream, but gaining his support means figuring out some way to make him believe giving you his support is worthwhile.

You also consider the idea that even if you include them both now, the pair can be dealt with in the future. Accidents *do* happen on Korriban, particularly in ancient underground structures of questionable integrity.

>Do you tell them that you know the possible location of a hidden tomb? If not, you will need some other justification of why you want to look at old maps. Tuija seems to know that you are want to compare them with current ones, but she may be fine with you avoiding telling Hostay that.

>>2199585
Loop them in, for now.
We can always cut them out later, pun intended.

>>2199606
Supporting.

>>2199606
>>2199622
Also, we are a Zeltron.
We could always turn our natural... talents... on Tuija in order to manipulate her. While not full-blown date rape levels like a Falleen, we CAN do pheromone dickery.

>>2199585
Tell him honestly that we don't actually know. I need to see the maps first and them we can talk. I don't want to get

>>2199606
I DISAGREE. We can look at the maps and choose to omit or include info that we want as necessary after we get a feel for what we are looking for.

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>>2199585
"I happed upon some old maps," you explain to Lord Hostay. "No more than clumsy drawings, but they showed that the flat regions around this valley were once just as mountainous."

He gives a nod that is scarcely distinguishable from the tremors that wrack his body. "The Valley of the Dark Lords itself was half-buried when it was re-discovered," he says.

"What if there are other such tombs out there?" you say excitedly. "Ones covered up by tectonic plates shifting around mountains and covering up whole valleys."

He hums thoughtfully. "I am surprised to hear you suggest such a thing. As I recall, you were never one for history." Perhaps the old Sith's mind isn't as addled as you thought.

"I appreciate *living* history," you shoot back. You swallow, then soften your tone to one of deference. "I must admit a certain envy, Lord Hostay. You arrived on Korriban early enough to unearth its treasures. All that's left for us..." You motion to Tuija. "...is dust."

Hostay's curved back straightens, and his eyes glitter at the mention of his glory days. Back when archaeology on Korriban was not only taught, but practiced as well. Tuija sees her opportunity, and steps forward.

"I told Leera that you are one of the few who would appreciate his idea," she says.

"What is your idea, exactly?" You can tell by the tone of Hostay's voice that you have his interest, if not his support quite yet.

"We'd like to compare the current map of Korriban, with the located tombs marked, to any old topographical maps you have. To see if anything... jumps out at us."

Hostay and Tuija both eye you doubtfully. The Twi'lek girl knows that you're hiding something, but the former seems to think you're simply grasping at straws. Regardless, it doesn't matter--he grumbles to himself and shuffles over to one of the bookcases, and begins running his fingers along leather-bound books. You lean up against the wall and cross your arms, expecting this to take quite some time.

But to your surprise, Hostay quickly locates what he is looking for and, with great difficulty, draws forth an immense brown tome. It nearly drags him straight to the floor, but Tuija rushes forward and grabs the other end of the book before that happens. The two set it on the desk, and you approach as Hostay thumbs through page after page, each one containing a map and ancient hieroglypics. You know very little of the ancient Sith language, and what is written is so stylized and faded as to be unreadable--to you, at least. Hostay seems to be having an easier time of things, and quickly navigates to the page he had in mind.

"The Valley of the Dark Lords." He rests his finger on a map sketched in black ink. It shows the valley housing the academy, with the tombs of the ancient Lords marked--even *you* know enough of the Sith alphabet to recognize those. Marka Ragnos, Tulak Hord--and the human progenitor of the Sith lineage, Ajunta Pall.

"I was thinking somewhere further east," you say.

>>2200111
"I was thinking somewhere further east," you say, remembering the position of the sun and academy when you witnessed them in your dream.

Hostay gives you a confused look, but then turns back to the tome and flips through a few more pages.

"Stop!" you say. Hostay and Tuija look at you expectantly, but your attention is firmly focused on the deep fissure pictured below you. The canyon winds back and forth like a snake, in a distinctive pattern you will never forget.

"Where is this?" You hover a finger over the cracked page.

"Mmm... the Valley of Wrainan," Hostay says. "So named for the first of the tombs we uncovered there. As I am sure you can guess, it has been well-explored already." He taps one of the many map markers lining the canyon walls, indicating the tombs of buried Lord. But strangely, there is no marker at the end of the canyon. In your dream, that was where you saw the massive entrance to the tomb you were thrown from by some unseen force.

"What about here?" You move your finger to that location. "Is there nothing at the end of the valley?"

Hostay mumbled in the negative.

"But you didn't check?" you continue.

"Why would we?" Hostay says, slightly defensive. "The tomb locations were marked by our forefathers." He taps the dusty tome for emphasis.

"What if someone deliberately excluded a tomb from this book?" you suggest.

He glares at you doubtfully. "You have a reason to suspect such a thing?"

You don't. At this point, you're just trying to get Hostay's support. On the bright side, you *do* have the location of the chamber from your dreams. The other tombs that have already been uncovered will be marked on current-day maps, and those point you right to the main one. In a flash of inspiration, you point at the list of marked burial sites.

>>2200115
"Were any of these men and women great Lords?"

Hostay takes a moment to read through them, then shakes his head. "I would not say so."

Tuija seems to see where you're going with this, and breaks her silence to once again join the conversation.

"Is that not strange?" she muses. "The burial valleys are always laid out like the one we stand in now--the smaller tombs built in the shadow of some greater structure, some greater Lord."

Hostay nods slowly, then faster as his enthusiasm gathers.

"Yes... I see," he mutters. He runs his finger up the canyon, then stops at the end of it. "Perhaps the complex was simply unfinished. The ancient Sith Empires were not as strong as ours--they suffered many cataclysms and downfalls."

The old Sith seems to be of two minds. There are points in your conversation where you can see the fire of a younger man in his eyes, but that is quickly replaced by the fog of age and complacency. Not that you can really blame him for doubting--he has not seen what you have.

Perhaps he just needs a little push. As a Zeltron, your limited telepathic empathy gives you the ability to nudge the emotions of living beings ever so slightly. Normally you would avoid doing such a thing to a Sith Lord, but Hostay is old and his mind is brittle. Furthermore, Sith train themselves to resist Force persuasion--not the more gentle touch of your own innate ability.

Come to think of it, you're not sure if Hostay even *knows* you're a Zeltron. Even back when you were his student, the man squinted so much that he may have simply taken you for a member of the Sith race, albeit one with a healthy helping of human genes.

>Do you push on Hostay's mind as you convince him to give you his support? You will need to inflame either his positive, or negative emotions.
>Do you rely on conventional persuasion, with help from Tuija
>Or do you simply thank him for his time, then leave? You have the location of the tomb, if not the means to get there very safely.

>>2200124
>Do you rely on conventional persuasion, with help from Tuija
Be wary of old men in professions where men die young.
Sith die young.

>>2200180
A fair point.

>>2200124
>Do you rely on conventional persuasion, with help from Tuija

>>2200124
>Do you rely on conventional persuasion, with help from Tuija

>>2200124
>Do you rely on conventional persuasion, with help from Tuija

>>2200124
With Lord Hostay still thoughtfully engrossed in the map and its possibilites, you glance over at Tuija and give a jerk of the head to the old Sith. If anyone is going to convince him of your quest, it's her. She gives you an annoyed look, probably because she has very little idea of what your quest actually *is*. After a few moments, she relents.

"It is a longshot, yes." Tuija lays a hand lightly on his shoulder. "But I can *feel* that we have something here."

You're the one with the gut feeling, but Tuija is convincing nonetheless.

"All we would need is an echo probe and a cruiser," you chime in. "Purely an exploratory mission. There would be little risk."

"Little risk?" Hostay snorts in amusement and, with great effort, eases himself back into his desk chair. "K'lor'slugs burrowing out from the ground at the slightest tremor, flocks of Shyracks swarming from caves..." He waves a hand in front of his face, as if batting away some imaginary creature. "This *is* still Korriban. There is always danger."

"And reward!" You lean over his desk and look him in the eye. "We would not be Sith if we did not endure acceptable risk in pursuit of something greater."

Hostay grumbles and strokes his chin thoughtfully. You wait with rapt attention, unable to guess at what he was thinking. You can feel the conflicting emotions battling within him, an equal mix of caution and enthusiasm that you are hesitant to try and alter. Such a thing is best done before making your argument, and you have already said your peace.

"You would need an escort," he finally says. "Students cannot leave the academy unaccompanied--*especially* that far into the wildlands."

You nod excitedly. "Yes! Of course!" You have already come to accept Hostay's participation in this, and your mind is busy going over all the different ways you can work to minimize his involvement. Muscles tense, you wait for Hostay to say more--but he does not. He continues to stare up at you, as if you've missed his point completely.

"I cannot be that escort." He lifts up his cane with a trembling hand. "Not with this body."

Finding yourself nearly back at square one, your heart sinks. Hostay notices your dissapointment, and holds up his cane hand with a single finger pointed at you.

"You can have your cruiser and probe," he says. "But as I said--you *need* an escort."

>>2200904
Your spirits lift yet again, though this time you're careful not to let your excitement carry you away. The implication of Hostay's words are that he will sign the forms necessary to permit you leave of the academy, but you will need to find someone *else* to watch over you and Tuija outside the grounds. Who you could ask to do such a thing, you have no idea.

The fact that they don't need to be someone who can grant you leave widens the candidate pool considerably. They could be a teacher, like Hostay, or one of the visiting Apprentices. Even an academy guard could work, assuming you are able to convince the Overseer to grant that guard temporary leave. With Hostay's support as a teacher and sponsor, that should be doable.

The latter seems the safest option, in a way. You are confident that you can brave whatever dangers lie in Korriban's wilderness, but the machinations of a greedy Sith are another matter. If events placed you opposite a learned teacher or Apprentice in true battle, you doubt that you could win.

The soldiers who guard the academy, on the other hand, present no such danger. They have their ambitions, yes, but they do not covet forbidden Sith artifacts--not as much as they value their lives, anyway.

>Do you find someone to escort you and Tuija?

>A teacher - The only one you've spoken to in the past two days is Ukarme, but there are many teachers at the academy. Having a type in mind could help you search.
>An Apprentice or Master - There's always that strange Sith woman who witnessed your duel with Loman. Finding her would be a simple matter of asking around.
>A guard - The Overseer will never give you one of the red-robed Imperial Guards as an escort, but it would not be at all unthinkable for him to part with one of the standard armored troopers that is stationed at the academy.

>If you do not find someone to escort you:

>You can always tell Hostay that you have found an escort, then take the cruiser and equipment into the wildlands with Tuija and hope you two aren't caught in the process. The punishment would be serious, and largely depends on the mood of the Overseer at the time of the infraction.
>Lie to Hostay in the same way, but leave *without* Tuija. She would likely be furious with you, and you have to imagine that she would tell the Overseer.

>Or maybe you have some other great idea. You didn't survive the Academy this long by being a dullard, after all.

>>2200909
>You can always tell Hostay that you have found an escort, then take the cruiser and equipment into the wildlands with Tuija and hope you two aren't caught in the process. The punishment would be serious, and largely depends on the mood of the Overseer at the time of the infraction.

>>2200909
>A guard - The Overseer will never give you one of the red-robed Imperial Guards as an escort, but it would not be at all unthinkable for him to part with one of the standard armored troopers that is stationed at the academy.

>>2200909
>>2200926
second

>>2200909
>A teacher - The only one you've spoken to in the past two days is Ukarme, but there are many teachers at the academy. Having a type in mind could help you search.
the female teacher, this will give us time to talk with someone we encountered. and maybe impress her

>>2200909
Some unambitious teacher would be perfect.
Ukarme could be good option as he likes us and knows how to fight, but does our character trust, that he does not hog all the glory from the find? What ever it would be.

>>2200909
>A guard - The Overseer will never give you one of the red-robed Imperial Guards as an escort, but it would not be at all unthinkable for him to part with one of the standard armored troopers that is stationed at the academy.

>>2200909
With assurances to both Tuija and Hostay that you can find a suitable escort, you excuse yourself and make your way to Overseer Harkun's office. The actual Supervisor of the academy is the Sith Lord Zash, but she is so reclusive as to hardly be seen. Her inferior manages the day-to-day running of things, leaving him in a constant state of overwork.

You knock on the door, and wait a few moments.

"Yes?" comes a voice from the other side. Harkun's annoyance at being disturbed is barely contained, but you are sure that will change once he sees you are a student and not someone of actual importance. You open the door, and are greeted by the sight of a bald, red-skinned woman leaned over the desk at the center of the room. Her purple-robed back is turned to you, and it is not until she turns around that you pin her as the Sith woman you spoke to the day before.

She gives you a brief smile, then walks to the edge of the room and leans against one of the life-sized statues lining the walls. Harkun is seated at the desk, his brow furrowed furiously and lips twitching. He's young for a Lord, with short brown air and red tattoo over on eye. You give an uncertain glance at the Sith woman, but she remains silent.

"Well?" Harkun snaps at you. "Out with it!"

You step inside the austere room and close the door.

"I would like to request an academy guard as an escort tomorrow," you say quickly. "Lord Hostay granted us leave of the grounds, but he is not in a condition to go exploring." Ordinarily you might have spent some time softening up the target of a delicate request, but there *is* no softening up Harkun, and he hates nothing more than having his time wasted.

"Exploring?" He cocks an eyebrow. "Exploring what? Everything within a hundred miles has been mapped for years."

"We consider it possible that Wrainan valley has not been fully explored." You're not sure if Harkun knows the place, but details can't hurt. You're also careful not to oversell the idea. Harkun has favorite students, and if he believes you truly have something worth checking out, he might just give it to them.

"Hostay said this?" Harkun probes.

"We posited the idea," you reply. "Lord Hostay considered it worthy enough of consideration to send me to you."

"You said 'we' again." Harkun eyes you suspiciously. "You and who else?"

You wince at your slip-up. It might have been better to keep from mentioning Tuija, but there is a good chance Harkun will find out anyway.

"Initiate Tuija and I."

>>2202300
Harkun's eyes flicker in thought, and then his glare deepens. Like many of the teachers at the academy, the Overseer himself is something of a classist and xenophobe. There is no chance he doesn't know what you are, but you've managed to avoid any real ire from him over the years--possibly because you look close enough to a Sith for your appearance not to turn his stomach.

Tuija, on the other hand, with here bright yellow skin and long lekku, is in no such position. Harkun's dislike of her was compounded the moment he heard her name--'Tuija', no last name. You know from talking to her that she came from a family of servants on a Sith world, hardly better than slaves. To Harkun, her presence at the academy is an affront to everything he believes in.

"Absolutely not!" Harkun nearly bangs his desk with his fist, but stops just short and eases his hand down to tap with a commanding finger. "We're not sending initiates out on aimless expeditions for the fun of it. You would be better served focusing on your swordsmanship."

That last bit was clearly aimed at your loss against Loman.

"Come now, Overseer!" The Sith at the edge of the room breaks her silence, striding over to place a hand on Harkun's shoulder. He flinches, and his eyes flicker over to her. "Surely you can spare a *single* soldier." She looks up to you and gives you a knowing wink. "This could be an opportunity to solve two problems at once."

At those words, a mean smile cracks Harkun's stony facade, and he eases back into his chair as the woman's hand withdraws.

"What is Tuija to you?" he asks you. "A friend?"

You purse your lips. "I have no friends, sir."

"As it should be." He gives a nod in approval. "Then if Tuija didn't return from your trip, it wouldn't cause you too much grief."

Your muscles tighten and you have to keep from letting your jaw drop open.

"Sir?"

He glowers up at you. "Was my meaning unclear?"

You shake your head slowly. "No, sir. I understand."

"Good." He points at the door. "I'll find someone to escort you two. They'll be told to follow *your* orders." With the emphasis on 'your', the meaning is clear. Someone else to help make sure Tuija does not return from the trip. Harkun's feelings towards aliens were no secret, but you had never expected something like this. This isn't simple distaste--there is some reason he has it out for Tuija in particular. Harkun says nothing more, and the Sith woman beside him gives a smiling wave as you turn to leave.

>>2202301
Once back in the hallway with the door closed behind you, you have to stop to allow your swimming thoughts time to settle. The world spins around you, and you would collapse onto a bench if there were any nearby. Leaning up against a wall, you rub a hand across your eyes and think.

Tuija is no friend--that was the truth. You have not allowed anyone to assume such a dangerous role in your life. But she's never moved against you, and has even helped you in the past without any immediate benefit to herself. What you're not sure about are her current motives. She's too eager, and has put herself at too much risk for this to be a simple quid-pro-quo that she expects you to pay off at a later date. Whether her motives are sinister or altruistic, you really can't say. But she *is* a Sith initiate--and like you, she would not have lasted this long if she had an altruistic streak.

And then there is Harkun. That man is not an ally, and never will be. His tolerance of you is begrudging at best, and you have to wonder why he chose *you* to dispose of Tuija. It could simply be because you are the one who has an opportunity to do so, but as the Overseer of the academy, Harkun can create opportunities of his own. He also has students who are far more loyal to him than you, who he trusts far more.

If you do what Harkun is asking of you, will you earn some sort of favor with him? Possibly, but you would have no leverage to enact payback of that favor. He is the Overseer, and you are a mere student. What worries you more is possible retribution if you fail to act. He could not kick you out of the academy for disobeying a secret directive to kill another student, but he could make your remaining time difficult. Your goal at this stage is to be noticed by a visiting Master who will take you as their Apprentice, and Harkun undoubtedly has ways of interfering of that.

Finally, the Sith woman. You have no idea what to make of her, nor her prodding of Harkun. From her casual interaction with him, you decide that she must be a true Master, and not simply an Apprentice.

Do you tell Tuija about Harkun's order? You can always reveal this later, at some point during the expedition. The remainder of today will be occupied by preparing for an early-morning departure.

>>2202303
I feel that this Harkun might have an ulterior motive to wanting Tujia dead. We should question Tujia about it at some point, see if she knows something about him that we don't.

While we're at it, we should investigate Tujia's recent interest in us. I'm sure our natural ability to sense and influence emotions would assist us in all this

>>2202373
Until we investigate a bit, I would like to hope that Tuija could continue to be something of an ally to us. As long as she isn't planning our own demise any time soon

I knew that getting guard as an escord was way too good looking option, just didin't figure out why untill now
>>2202303
>hint at her that our escort will be dangerous to her
We can tell the rest later

>>2202373
Let's go along with this and just move on usual for now.

>>2202303
Don't tell her but probe about the beef she has eith them

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>>2202303
You find Tuija walking along a balcony through the central chamber of the academy. Part of you is surprised that she didn't insist on coming to meet the escort you had hinted at. Splitting from her was remarkably easy, especially given how much she has pressed you for information in the past. She is moving at a hurried pace with a grave look on her face, as if moving from some critical task to some other, even more important appointment.

"Tuija!" you shout up from the ground floor, just loud enough to draw her attention. She is not surprised to find you there, and seems to have been looking for you. You meet her on the floor above, and lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I just spoke with Harkun about our escort."

"Harkun?" She scowls and slaps you in the stomach with the back of her hand. "Why did you not tell me *that* was who you meant?"

Considering how things went with him, maybe you should have. But you haven't confided in her much, and felt it best to stick to that strategy.

"I *got* our escort," you assure her. "One of the academy troopers. We'll meet him at the loading bay tomorrow morning."

"Harkun approved it?" She looks surprised.

"It took some doing, but I convinced him."

She bites her lip and glances aside, thumbing her lekku thoughtfully. "A trooper is good. We can handle ourselves, anyway."

Those are your exact thoughts. Things would be going well if it weren't for the new predicament Harkun has put you in.

"Harkun really has it out for you." You say it with a casual tone in your voice, as if simply musing about the meeting she was so concerned about. "The mention of your name had him more pissed than usual."

Eyes still cast aside, Tuija snorts in disgust. "He hates anyone who isn't human or Sith. You know that."

You can feel the frustration and annoyance welling within her, like a prickly heat that lashes out at you. Your empathetic abilities aren't finely-tuned enough to tell *why* she is feeling that way, though--not without further questioning. All you know is that she really does not like talking about Harkun. That could be because she is hiding something, or because she simply hates the man.

>>2202813
"If you're getting cold feet--" you start out. A harsh glare from Tuija cuts you off.

"When did I say that?" she snaps. "Did I ever say that?"

Her outburst seems to come from nowhere, and even she is taken aback by the unintentional sharpness of it.

"I have things to do before tomorrow," she mutters, avoiding meeting your eyes. "You can find what we need."

With that she departs, leaving you stunned and no more informed than you were prior to your conversation. For a moment you consider grabbing her and demanding to know what she's hiding, but you've hardly been forthcoming yourself. Any demands like that would be thrown right back in your face. All you can do now is as Tuija said--get what you need for a day of subterranean probing.

You're a little annoyed that she didn't offer to help. It could be that she doesn't fully believe you two are going tomb mapping, and so isn't sure what supplies to grab. What you had told her and Lord Hostay had the air of a lie, if only because you held so many details back.

Do you visit Tuija in her room tonight to pry further? She likely will have calmed enough for you to ask her substantive questions about her trouble with Harkun and why she is so determined to go an expedition she knows so little about.

Or maybe it's time to take her out of the equation completely--without murdering her. It's a big academy with lots of materials on hand. If Tuija were, say, rendered gravely ill, she wouldn't be able to go on the expedition at all.

Give it some thought, you're a Sith after all. Or just go to sleep and give it no more thought at all.

>>2202822
Do you visit Tuija in her room tonight to pry further? She likely will have calmed enough for you to ask her substantive questions about her trouble with Harkun and why she is so determined to go an expedition she knows so little about.

>>2202838
Supporting

>>2202822
>Do you visit Tuija in her room tonight to pry further? She likely will have calmed enough for you to ask her substantive questions about her trouble with Harkun and why she is so determined to go an expedition she knows so little about.

She's hiding something, I'm sure of it

>>2202822
>Do you visit Tuija in her room tonight to pry further? She likely will have calmed enough for you to ask her substantive questions about her trouble with Harkun and why she is so determined to go an expedition she knows so little about.

>>2202822
The rest of the day is spent getting things in order for your expedition. Daypacks, an echo droid, and a land cruiser to be prepped before morning. The supply officer is far more agreeable than Harkun, at least in part because he is below you on the proverbial totem pole. It's not respect, not quite--after all, you're just a student who hasn't yet proven himself in the world.

It's closer to fear. Not fear of what you've done, but of who you are. As a Sith initiate, you represent the future elite of the Empire. It is just a taste of the power you will receive once you are fully inducted into that elite--something that will happen more quickly if tomorrow is fruitful.

Evening comes, and you go to Tuija's room in the dormitory. Like you and all the other senior students, she has a private dormitory instead of being shoved into bunk beds in a drafty barracks. Another one of the perks of being a step closer to power. You knock on the door, and Tuija answers it a few moments later. Heavy bags lay under her eyes, and she is wearing a night gown distinguishable from her usual robe only by the dark orange color of it. Either she was asleep, or nearly there--but she is fully awake once she sees it is you.

"Yes?" she says hesitantly.

"I wanted to tell you that everything's ready."

"Oh," she mumbles. "Alright."

You look for an angle to take this conversation inside the room, but Tuija is firmly situated in the doorway and doesn't seem to notice you shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. That, or she's choosing to ignore it. You came here with a number of questions in mind, but you can't ask any of them if she's going to give you the wall treatment.

"Well, good night." You turn to leave, but Tuija grabs you by the arm and nods into her room.

"Let's talk inside," she says. Surprised but pleased, you follow her and shut the door. She sits down on the edge of her bed, and you pull the chair out from her desk to do likewise. All of her earlier snipiness is gone, replaced with a reticent silence that remains even after you two are seated.

>>2203194
"So--" you start out. Tuija says something at the same time, then mutters an apology.

"You go first," she says.

"I mapped out the route for tomorrow." You unhook your datapad from your belt, but Tuija doesn't seem to notice. "It's not far, but you know what the terrain is like. It'll probably be 4 hours each way."

Tuija nods absent-mindedly and taps her foot, alternately staring at you and glancing off into space. You had expected a groan or a complaint or a demand for a covered cruiser, but you got nothing. She's distracted, and anticipating something. That much you can feel. Her eyes finally flicker down to your datapad, and she points at it.

"Show me," she says.

You push up from the chair and go to hand it to her, but instead of taking it she shifts away from you on the bed. Taking the hint, you sit down beside her and hold it out for her to look at. Her foot taps faster, and she mutters the map's natural landmarks under her breath as she traces the route in her mind.

"You're still up for this?" you ask carefully.

"Of course." She takes the tip of her lekku in her fingers and massages it, eyes still focused on the datapad. "I said that I was."

Do you broach the topic of Harkun first? Or her interest in your mission?

With a topic in mind, do you use your empathic abilities to drive her emotions in the hopes of coaxing an answer from her? You'll need to do so with either her positive or negative feelings towards the matter. It's unlikely she'll notice your influence, but that is up to random chance.

>>2203198
"I knew Harkun hated aliens, but what the hell did you do?"

>>2203198
>Broach the topic of Harkun first.
It's for the best we figure out her beef with him, and figure out if we can make this shitty situation into something better.

We should probably push her positive feelings towards us, if we're making her a long-term ally. There's nothing we can individually do against Harkun, not for awhile.

>>2203198
Her feelings about this are probably negative. She lashed out earlier after all. Better to probe her about Harkun while inciting her negative feelings about him.

>>2203237
This is also true. I guess it depends how we want to treat our allies.

>>2203242
""""Allies""""

>>2203262
What sensible individual would want to be allies with a Sith? Most of them are too edgy to understand the value of actual trusted colleagues. The rest are too cagey over the fact that the others are so fucking edgy.

>>2203262
Sith can have friends, allies, even lovers. They simply have to hide and protect such people well, otherwise the weakness can be exploited.

>>2203330
Yes and we don't have any at the moment. I support working towards securing one but I'm not going to get attached to an alien just yet. One the one hand she is probably desperate for an ally too, in the other hand she is probably one of the must worthless people to have on your side.

I wonder if Harkun gave our trooper escort any other private directives. Like to get rid of us after we do her.

>>2203330
>>2203362
perhaps a lover, ally, or friend can be achieved or worked towards now, but more secured as an apprentice

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2203225
>>2203237

>Harkun - 1 is positive, 2 is negative

Rolled 4 (1d8)

>>2203198
"I just want to make sure the mention of Harkun didn't put you off of this," you say.

She frowns and lets a quick breath out through her nose. "I am done thinking about that man. Or any of the others like him."

With her eyes--if not her thoughts--still on the map, you place a hand on her shoulder. Physical touch enhances your abilities, even if it's done through a light piece of fabric.

"Xenophobes? I hate to say it, but they aren't limited to the academy." You lean forward slightly and look her in the face. "And out there, you won't have me watching your back."

>You nudge her positive emotions. 7 or 8 is a failure, and she notices your attempt.

Rolled 6 (1d8)

>>2203580
do we roll?

Rolled 26 (1d88)

>>2203590
[rolling intensifies]

>>2203590
Nah I just did that one myself so I could write the next bit.

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>>2203590
There we go, anon.

Rolled 171, 93, 34, 159, 36, 164, 39, 105, 147, 183 = 1131 (10d200)

>>2203604
>>2203609
>>2203614

>>2203580
For a moment, her expression is just as rigid as ever. Then it softens, every muscle relaxing to a degree you didn't know was possible. A wistful smile spreads across her lips.

"How did it go so fast?" She reaches out with one hand and grips the other side of the datapad, finally taking some of the weight off of your own tired arm. "For years I could not wait to leave, and now it is over."

Those final words have you looking at her in confusion, but she is lost in her own world of thought. You two are both of an age that will see you securing Masters soon, but you haven't heard or seen anything that would hint at Tuija leaving the academy.

Unless...

You think back to the Sith woman at your duel. Was she there not for you, but for Tuija? The Twi'lek girl had, after all, *won* her fight. If that's the case, you have to wonder why the woman would be okay with Harkun setting her up to die. Is this some final test to see if Tuija is worthy of becoming an Apprentice? A lesson to always beware of treachery from those closest to you?

Or is Tuija in on all of it, and the three of them are setting *you* up to be killed, with your attempted murder of Tuija as a convenient excuse. You can't imagine why any of them would do such a thing, but over a decade at the academy has given you a healthy amount of paranoia.

Tuija wavers back and forth on the bed, then slumps into your side. Your back goes rigid and you jolt in place, letting your datapad hand drop to your thigh. Tuija makes no attempt to hold it aloft, but keeps her grip on it and slowly snakes her hand over the edge until her fingertips rest on yours. The seconds tick by, and neither of you moves. Still leaned up against you, Tuija begins to slip off to the side and has to push up on the bed to right herself. As she does so, you look down at her and find her face inches from yours.

You expect her to look away quickly, but she doesn't--and neither do you. Your heart is pounding, and even the single finger you have resting against the small of her back seems an unbearably intimate contact. She is breathing fast, her chest heaving against the side of your torso with each breath in and out.

>Go with the moment naturally
>Inflame her positive emotions (In her state, she is even more unlikely to notice)
>Inflame her negative emotions (In her state, she is even more unlikely to notice)
>Stop this, and ask her what she means about her time at the academy being over
>Come clean about everything

>>2203671
>Inflame her positive emotions (In her state, she is even more unlikely to notice)

>>2203671
>>Stop this, and ask her what she means about her time at the academy being over

Goddamn Twi'leks and fucking everything that moves. Damn sex aliens.

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>>2203671
>Inflame her positive emotions (In her state, she is even more unlikely to notice)

Who is going to resist a small twi'lek berserker?

>>2203704
Aren't zeltrons sex aliens too?

>>2203671
>inflame her positive emotions
Too good a chance to pass up.
If we can chose multiple
>go with the moment naturally
We well regret not fucking her if we end up killing her. And we can ask for clarification later.

>>2203768
Yeah, but Zeltrons are classy.

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>>2203787
>Classy
Have your (You), anon.

>>2203814
>acting like sluts are less classy than whores

>>2203850
from a certain point of view.

>>2203671
>Inflame her negative emotions
rough sex only

>>2203877
>from a certain point of view.

The Jedi -are- evil.

>>2203891
technically, forcing people to subdue emotions and not pursue love or other things can be considered, evil

>>2203671
>Stop this, and ask her what she means about her time at the academy being over
I'm kind of getting the feeling that the sith lady and harkun and intentionally setting us and tiuja against each other. I'm suspicious as fuck about her sudden advances. We need to control ourselves.

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>>2203935
Passion is power, anon.

>>2203940
Not without being intelligent about it.

>>2203671
>Inflame her positive emotions (In her state, she is even more unlikely to notice)

Let the hormones flow through her

Rolled 8 (1d8)

>>2203671
You slide your right hand up until it rests fully on her back. Excitement and desire well within her, a warm vibration just under the skin of your palm. Only then do you realize how indistinguishable those feelings are from greed and possessiveness. You may have even mistake her true emotions for those darker ones, were she not staring up at you with two green eyes that speak the truth so plainly. Have her surroundings hardened and twisted her so much as to combine those two sides of the coin in her mind? Or are you the maimed one for no longer being able to distinguish between them?

Regardless, you do not even need your empathic powers to sense what she is thinking. Tuija has never been the most cunning of the acolytes, but she learned a simpler way to disguise her intentions--a stony face, and closed lips. Now, her face is relaxed and her lips are parted slightly.

As you close your eyes and press your lips to hers, you drive that blatant desire within her to new heights. You feel the slightest flicker of guilt at the act, but all you're doing is bringing out what is already there. Your ability is no worse than the whispered flatteries of a silver-tongued charismatic. In fact, what you do is more honest. You sense what she wants, and you help her act on that want.

>You inflame her positive emotions. 8 is a failure, and she notices your attempt.

>>2204087
Lmao good call guys

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>>2204087
Man, I sort of wish we got the chance to roll instead, but still it's gonna be funny to read.

Rolled 2 (1d8)

>>2204087
plz lemme reroll

>>2204097
Please let this anon's roll count.

This quest was DOA as soon as zeltron was chosen desu, give anons any power like the pheromones and their horny minds will use it without thinking

>>2204102
Why would we roll? It's not us trying to hide the fact we are touching her brainparts it's her trying to notice it.

>>2204087
Your lips join, and for a moment hers move against yours in a light dance.

Then, they stop. You shift your hand further up her back and feel for the rapturous passion that was once there, but the fire has gone cold. You pull back slightly and open your eyes to see Tuija staring at you in confusion, her hands sliding off of your body and her gaze flickering over your face. Before you can say a word, her brow furrows furiously and her shoulders tighten.

"I felt something," she says. Revulsion and betrayal well within her, a biting sensation that has you yanking your hand away from her back. Your stomach turns at the feeling. "You were in my mind."

Despite the surety of her declaration, she does not pull back further. It is a question as much as an accusation.

>Lie. You don't know what she's talking about.
>You weren't toying with her mind. As a Zeltron, you simply wanted to feel her emotions as your own during such an intimate encounter.
>Apologize profusely.
>Admit it, but remain completely unapologetic.
>Just leave. This isn't worth the trouble.

>>2204137
>You weren't toying with her mind. As a Zeltron, you simply wanted to feel her emotions as your own during such an intimate encounter.

>>2204137
>>You weren't toying with her mind. As a Zeltron, you simply wanted to feel her emotions as your own during such an intimate encounter.
Might as well be honest.

>>2204116
Not really? I get the feeling it would have had the same result, Human or not.

>>2204137
>>Admit it, but remain completely unapologetic.
Bitch ain't you tried super-euphoria-sex before? Shiiieeeeet

>>2204152
>Might as well be honest.

We were straight up fucking with her brain.

>>2204137
>You weren't toying with her mind. As a Zeltron, you simply wanted to feel her emotions as your own during such an intimate encounter.

Mind-Sex

>>2204116
That's clearly not the case.

>>2204137
You swallow, and try as hard as you can to meet her accusatory gaze without looking away.

"I was. I wanted to feel what you were feeling." You slide your hand across the bed to touch her knee, but even that slight contact has her putting her foot back on the floor. You're afraid to reach into her mind again so soon after your failure, so you suffice yourself with her very clear outward displays of displeasure. "You know how important emotions are to my people."

Tuija nods. "I know." She's silent for a few moments, and her eyes seem to lose focus as she delves deep into thought. Then, she is looking at you with a gaze as intense as ever.

"Do you remember the day they first had us train with practice sabers?" she says.

You can't even begin to recall it--that was so early on in your training as to be a blur now.

"We were very little," she continues. "We were watching the instructors demonstrate, and I could not stop shaking." Tuija picks up your hand and lays it on her shoulder. "You touched me like this, and you asked if I was scared."

You force a smile. "It sounds like I didn't need my powers for that."

She returns your smile with a sad one of her own.

>>2204337
"Then, it was my turn to practice against one of the other students." She moves your palm to her chest, just above her heart, and rests it there.

"You looked me in the eye and you said--'you cannot be defeated'." As she lowers your hand, you draw it slowly back to your lap. "I thought that was a very strange thing to say, but when I walked into that ring I suddenly felt as if I could defeat anyone--and I did."

Tuija pauses, staring at her folded hands. Her thumbs twiddle back and forth in an endless battle.

"For years I was sure you were magic, but when I read up on the Zeltron people I finally understood." She looks back up at you and heaves a warbling sigh. "I wasn't sure whether to be furious or grateful." When you had first come to her room, she looked tired. Now, she looks downright exhausted. "So I know what it feels like when my mind is being touched... and when it is being pushed."

Pushing herself up from the bed, Tuija walks over to the door controls and slides open the automated door, then turns to stare at you. You get to your feet and walk over to doorway, casting a shameful glance at her as you pass her. Her formerly steady gaze flickers away now and then, and you can see tears welling in her eyes that she tries madly to blink away before they can form tears.

"Maybe you can trade notes with Shassanis," she says, her voice cracking as you step into the hallway. You stare blankly at the wall opposite you before turning and heading to your own room. For now, you just want to sleep--and not have to think. Tomorrow, you'll need to decide what to do about the expedition.

>Carry on as usual? Tuija may show, or she may not.
>Leave earlier than planned without her? You could do so with the escort, or if you're feeling particularly brooding, leave on your own in the cruiser.
>Wake up extremely early and make the trip on foot as an act of masochistic repentance. This will take days and be dangerous.

>>2204344
>>Carry on as usual? Tuija may show, or she may not.

The lizard tried to get in her pants, too? RIP.

>>2204344
>Wake up extremely early and make the trip on foot as an act of masochistic repentance. This will take days and be dangerous.

>>2204344
>>Carry on as usual? Tuija may show, or she may not.

>>2204344
>carry on as usual
Damn, oh well. We still have options going forward.

>>2204344
>Wake up extremely early and make the trip on foot as an act of masochistic repentance. This will take days and be dangerous.

>>2204344
>Wake up extremely early and make the trip on foot as an act of masochistic repentance. This will take days and be dangerous.

>>2204355
>>2204379
>>2204410
Have you forgotten the consequences of going out without an escort?
>>2200909

>>2204490
sith need to become self reliant
(although i admit i read the option wrong)

>>2204490
It's really not worth going without an escort.

>>2204490
I like to imagine that if we're successful enough, uncovering the tomb may be an achievement that absolves us of serious punishment.

Aside from that, I think it sounds really cool. Going off alone in such a brooding manner after our exchange with Tuijia. Really dramatic shit

>>2204521
Because the Sith aren't assholes who wouldn't beat the shit out of you just to prove a point.

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>I get home from work and /qst/ decided to try and pheromone a girl who ALREADY wanted the D
Now I'm not saying you guys are retards, but...
You guys are retards.

>>2204640
It seems like they're being retards on purpose at this point

>>2204646
Do you expect any differently in a Sith-oriented quest?

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>>2204640
Watching autists at work always gives me a giggle.

>>2204640
They just wanted her to be EXTRA horny dude. She was gonna aheago just like in my hentais you baka.
someone kill me

>sith quest
>players immediately try to fuck someone because "muh passion"
every damn time

>>2204679
It's like clockwork, isn't it?

>>2204344
>Carry on as usual? Tuija may show, or she may not.

>>2204685
You're one of them dude

>>2204640
Well I'm having fun either way. Failing in this manner had a very interesting result

>>2204707
While that's true, ancient Chinese curses and all that.
The danger is that Tuija is being set up to kill us by that lady Sith, and now she's probably mentally primed to do it. Previously her attraction to us might have made her hesitate but now? We pissed her off.

>>2204715
I think you're right. This whole thing seems to be a set-up. I'm not sure how we can handle this now if we come to blows with her.

I don't like the idea of us being set against each other as some kind of sick test, but I'm not sure how we can work ourselves out of it. Whatever is lying in this tomb, hopefully it can help us.

>>2204732
>I don't like the idea of us being set against each other as some kind of sick test
Welcome to the Sith, anon.

>>2204640
To clarify, I voted to manipulate her feelings more to increase the likelihood of her being a longer term ally. Sex isn't always the goal.

It's really frustrating to play a quest where you're outvoted by anons who vote for shit because they think it'll be funny or cool without thinking in character at all. Good luck with the quest anyway OP, you seem like a decent writer.

>>2204732
The clear solution is that we crash the cruiser with her in it then walk back. The stuff that comes after is irrelevant. I mean, who really gives a shit about losing a ship for literally nothing?

>>2204746
Yeah, I know...

but it'd be one thing if we didn't realize it. I feel like, now that we KNOW we're being tricked we should try to fuck things up somehow.

In all honesty, it feels most sith-like to me to rage against those that seek to control you.

I actually just realized, there's little to no point in making a statement by going out on our own. The trip is four hours away by conventional transport, so by the time we arrive we could have the passengers we left behind waiting for us. Or worse.

Jesus, all these people butthurt over one failed roll and lashing out by making stupid accusations. Having dice in a quest implies that things will go wrong at some point. I'm sure you would have been congratulating yourselves on your wise choice if we had had a nice brain addled twilek to cash in on her connections before throwing under the bus for points with the sub-overseer if the roll had been different

>>2204802
Look at Mr. High Horse over here. Don't even understand how anons work. There'll always be people upset with decisions made. Good or bad. Failing or succeeding.

>>2204802
She was already the closest thing we had to an ally. And now she's not. You can't blame the dice for that.

>>2204835
this makes us strongr in the long run, really. now we don't have to worry about feelings for her.

>>2204873
But embracing our passion and emotions is the source of our power. The sith doctrine is so retarded and contradictory that I honestly don't understand how it's supposed to be practiced.

>>2204873
>this makes us strongr in the long run, really.

Unless it kills us. Never count out the whole "getting ded" option. Trust no one. Not even the QM.

>>2204878
I think Sith philosophy is best applied on a case-by-case basis.

You look around in the lore and you'll find Sith who get married, have families and friends n shit and then you look at dudes who get all powerful by being 100% Machiavellian.

We should forge our own path and see what works best for us while working within basics of the Sith Code.

>>2204878
what better emtion than being pissed off we didnt get laid?

>>2204879
the dice are fickle, but qm you can count on to eventually fuck us

I'm starting to think OP isn't even here anymore

>>2204883
If we just build THREE Deathstars we will be unstoppable.

>>2204919
Naw dog, we gotta build like...
A super death star.
It'll be the size of a planet, and able to blow up stars from across the galaxy with beams that can somehow be seen from dozens of light years away in real time!

>>2204999
2 small

Star size.

Rolled 6 (1d7)

>>2204353
>>2204355
>>2204358
>>2204376
>>2204379
>>2204410
>>2204697

We seem to be of split minds here, so I'll roll a choice. 1 = 1st post, etc.

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>>2204344
That night, you hardly sleep. Even after throwing the covers of your bed to the floor you are wracked by a prickly heat that has you up and pacing around the room. You glance at your beside clock, and see that it is still early in the morning--hours until you're supposed to retrieve your cruiser from the docking bay. You fear the appointment like none another, though you're not sure which drives your anxiety more--the possibility of being stuck in a car with Tuija for 8 hours, or the likelihood that she won't show at all.

Before your mind even know what your body is doing, your legs take you out into the quiet dormitory halls of the underground levels and up to the quartermaster. There you retrieve the two daypacks you had requisitioned for you and Tuija, as well as another bag containing the equipment necessary to reach something buried as deeply as the tomb you saw in your dream. Halfway to the loading bay, loaded down with enough bags to turn your walk to a shuffle, you realize that you should have just left Tuija's there. Too late to dump it now, though. You reach the loading bay, a broad space at the base of the pyramid with a loading ramp that looks out onto the Valley of the Dark Lords. Land cruisers of all types line the bay, most in varying states of disrepair, but they are all locked down tight until the head mechanic wakes up. That, and your appointed meeting with your escort, are still hours away. You sit in an out-of-the-way corner and watch the night shift work, welding masks covering their faces and blow torches in hand as they repair whatever machinery the desert sands of Korriban have broken.

You envy them, in a way. Simple work and simple troubles are so much less taxing than the worries that plague you at the academy on a daily basis. You can handle the blunt trauma of practice sabers and the sting of Force lightning reflected back at you by a reproachful instructor. What you hate are the sharp, biting images of Tuija's teary face flashing in your mind. You're not sure whether you feel guilty, or are simply upset at having your careful maneuvering so disastrously derailed. All you know is that you can't stay here.

>>2205615
You open up the plastic supply crate holding the digging equipment, and sort through it. There's all sorts of climbing gear that you're barely familiar with, but the truly vital item is a single round sphere of gray metal. You take the probe out and place it on the ground, then dig into the daypack and examine your supplies. There's more than enough rations and dehydrated water for a cruiser-bound trip, but walking is another matter. Digging into the pack you retrieved for Tuija, you pull out her owns rations and set them down, then go to the task of taking anything non-essential from yours. You hesitate at the med-pack, thinking about all the dangerous creatures that prowl Korriban's rocky badlands. After a moment, though, you discard that as well, though you do take a few of the compact bacta bandages--those could be life-saving.

The rest--pain killers, traditional bandages, metal stints--is useless on the sort of trek you have in mind. If you're ambushed by a starving Tuk'ata, you're not going to walk out of it in the sort of condition that can be fixed by compression wraps. With your pack emptied just enough to fit Tuija's supplies and the Echo probe, you close it, sling it onto your back, and walk into the early-morning blackness of the valley. From there you walk on, picking up speed and confidence as you pass tomb after tomb on your slow ascent to the valley's entrance. By the time you pass the last of them, the first rays of the morning sun have begun to peak out over the horizon, making the guardian statues cast long shadows just as intimidating as the genuine article.

At the entrance of the valley, you stop. Two guard posts flank either side of it, with helmeted guards standing watch. One looks over at you from up above, but glances away just as quickly. You resume walking, and pass the posts without a word as you leave the valley and enter the jagged wastes of the wildlands.

No one shouts after you, or tries to stop you. Why would they? For all they know, you're simply walking a short distance to find a secluded hilltop to meditate on. If the heavy bag slung over your back gives them pause, they quickly discard any other notion. To go on extended treks through the wildlands is a suicide more certain than slit wrists. That thought, and the lingering cold of the night air should have put a chill in your bones. But the speed of your walk quickly warms you, and you speed on, determined to see this through. That determination stays long after the academy has dipped under the first set of hills you pass, but your more idle thoughts begin to stray.

What thoughts occupy you during your hike?

>>2205619
Guilt and regret about what we did to Tuija
Worry and anger about our apparent lack of masters who want to take us on as a student even though we're trying so hard to follow the sith code

>>2205619
>>2205621
This plus desperation to gain power and respect by exploring this tomb

>>2205619
Regret that things went so badly with Tuija and determination to reach the tomb alone

>>2205619
Walking is easy at first. There is a light breeze, and the sun shines low enough to cover you with a pleasant warmth. As the terrain grows rockier and more treacherous, however, that changes. The sun grows high in the sky, beating down on you with a warmth that has you stowing your tunic in your pack and rolling up the sleeves of your undershirt. The desert winds funnel through the steeps hills around you, focusing their intensity and blasting you with stinging sand. Ordinarily you would be miserable, but the physical discomfort is a welcome reprieve from the thoughts that plague you.

It's hard to untangle any single worry from the rest, but they all lay back at the academy miles behind you. You had manipulated Tuija--in more ways than one--and you're no longer sure why. Even if you had succeeded, what would it have profited you? Your greed and paranoia had become pathological, eclipsing any rational degree of use. After your fight with Loman and the Sith woman's lecture, you had thought to temper your head-on approach with cunning and guile. But had you really maneuvered intelligently? Or were you still wielding brute force just as dumbly as ever?

You come to the edge of a canyon, and stop to glance at the map on your belt-mounted datapad. A rocky arch stretches across the edge of the fissure, giving you a convenient shortcut that would never have been available in a cruiser. The trip will still take far longer--2 nights, by your reckoning--but not nearly as long as you would have thought. On foot, you can navigate treacherous terrain that even a hovering land cruiser simply couldn't deal with. You start across the natural bridge, sparing only a single glance down at the broad road a few hundred feet below. Bat-like Shyracks hang from the shadowy sides of the canyon, not willing to venture further until night has fallen.

The prospect of setting up camp among flocks of the shrieking blood-suckers filling the night air should fill you with dread, but the thought sends a tingle of excitement up your spine as you land safely on the other side of the canyon. It's a simple danger, and one you're confident you can overcome as a true Sith would. Perhaps that is why you decided on enduring so treacherous a task as hiking Korriban alone.

>>2205859
You are no stranger to treachery and deceit--you've had to engage in quite a bit of it yourself to survive the academy. But somehow, it felt different with Tuija. Perhaps because she is--*was*--the closest thing you have to a friend. It's easy to lie to someone who you know is seconds away from putting a knife in your back. It was easier when you suspected she was one of them.

The thought strikes you that you're more afraid of facing Tuija than whatever lurks in the wildlands, and you laugh. Perhaps this is why you haven't been chosen by a Master yet. For all your competence with the Force and blade, the prospect of seeing Tuija again put a terror in your heart like none other.

That may be why you chose to walk, but it is not why you chose your destination in the first place. There is something out there in the wastes, something powerful enough to call to you in dreams. You turned your back on your weakness and ran from it, but only to pursue your strength. You may not have the stomach for betrayal, but *this* problem is one that can be solved with the raw application of determination and strength. The tomb will yield up its secrets, no matter how many Kor'slugs and hundreds of feet of rock lay between you and it.

You stumble over a cluster of small rocks, and only then realize how long you've been walking. The sun is setting, casting long shadows that make it difficult to see what lies in your way. You'll need to set up camp before the Shyracks come out, but you can walk for another hour or so before that need truly becomes urgent.

Then, the shuffle of rock and dirt comes from a ledge a dozen feet to your left. So lost in thought as you were, you wouldn't have heard it at all had the setting sun not briefly brought your attention back to the real world. You whirl about, hand going to your waste and the vibroblade hilt slung from the left side of your belt.

You draw your knife to meet whatever is scuttling towards you.

Roll me 1d8's, I'll take the first three. 1-2 is awful. 3-9 is bad. 10-22 is good. 23-24 is excellent.

Rolled 5 (1d8)

>>2205873

Rolled 4 (1d8)

>>2205873
let the blood flow from us or them

>>2205884
Nice. We're guarenteed a good result now.

Rolled 7 (1d8)

>>2205889
But nothing better once I ruin this roll!

>>2205873

>>2205882
>>2205884
>>2205891
bretty gud

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>>2205873
Weighed down by your backpack, you spin around and draw your knife just in time to come face-to-face with a pair of nightmarish, reptilian eyes. You keep spinning, using one arm to throw the thing off to the side as your blade meets soft flesh. The animal continues to gnash away even as it is sent sprawling into the dirt in a tangle of limbs, and you take the opportunity to slide your arms free of your backpack. It's hardly bright enough to see in the shadow of the hill above you, but a single glimpse at the scaly hound is all you need.

It's a Tuk'ata--creatures bred long ago through Sith alchemy for use as tomb guardians. Some escaped out into the wilderness, and over the centuries found a niche as apex predators. They are strong, fast, and vicious. They do, however, have one quality not seen in Korriban's other creatures--they respect the Dark Side of the Force.

As the animal struggles to its feet, you throw a quick glance off to either side. To your left, at the very top of a hill, you spot the rest of the Tuk'ata's pack shadowed against the setting sun. They aren't closing in, though. They're just watching. Looking back to the one now baring it's teeth at you, you notice how thin and wiry it is. The creature may fear your power, but there are few things that can stand against the simple driving force of ravenous hunger. For now, you only have to face this one, but that may change if its lurking packmates sense weakness in you. You need to end this quickly.

A blaster would be nice in this situation, but such weapons are never given to students. Partly due to simple tradition, and partly because they don't want to make it any easier for students to murder each other. Luckily, you're more than competent with the vibroblade in your hand. That, and the Force powers the Tuk'ata has been bred to fear.

The Tuk'ata tenses for another move. How do you engage it?

>Shout. Make it cower with a Force-laden scream.
>Gut it with your blade. It couldn't land a bite when it took you by surprise--it won't do so now.
>Keep your distance and hit it with Force lightning.
>Grab it with the Force and crush its throat.

>>2205933
>>Shout. Make it cower with a Force-laden scream.

>>2205933
>Keep your distance and hit it with Force lightning.

>>2205933
pain can make you forget hunger

>Keep your distance and hit it with Force lightning.

>>2205933
>Keep your distance and hit it with Force lightning.
The shout could possibly be heard throughout the valley
>>2205950
I'd imagine we've learned that firsthand as a kid at the academy

>>2205933
The Tuk'ata's plated hide ripples as sinewy muscles tense. Its eyes narrow, and legs lower down. Before it can make its move you thrust your hand towards it, stoking the fires of anger within yourself and sending a blast of Force lightning shooting at the creature. The red rocks around you flash purple as the Tuk'ata is wreathed in blue current, and you squint against the flashes of light coming from it bony plates.

Then, your eyes shoot wide open. The Tuk'ata hurls itself at you, seeming to completely shrug off what should have been a crippling attack--even the flesh wound you had given it with your knife seemed to hurt it more. You stumble backwards, and as those two red eyes bare down on you once more, realization shoots through you. The Tuk'ata were created by Sith alchemists, to guard Sith tombs on a Sith world. And the enemies of the Sith were, more often than even the Jedi... other Sith.

You have only the space of a moment to react--further Force powers are out of the question, and your knife is all that stands between you and a set of jaws that can rip durasteel.

Roll me 1d8's, I'll take the first three. 1-9 is bad. 10-20 is good. 21-24 is excellent.

Rolled 7 (1d8)

>>2205975
Well so much for them being bred to fear sith power... It's not a good sign that both the MC and the players are this dumb. And yes I'm including myself.

Rolled 3 (1d8)

>>2205975
At least we can stab stuff good.

Rolled 4 (1d8)

>>2205975

>>2205987
Should have just used the Force to throw it straight up into the air several dozen feet. A fall will fuck anything up, specially since you could use the Force to aim it towards the ground skull first.

>>2205987
Mostly just him fucking with players. Our character probably ought to have known that, but whatevs, the rlls are still good.

>>2205975
You bring your left arm up in time to catch the Tuk'ata by its fore legs, but the force of the creature sends you hurtling back to the dirt behind you. With one hand trying desperately to hold back its gnashing teeth and slashing claws, you use your knife to stab madly at its belly. Whatever soft spot you managed to catch it on before is nowhere to be found, and your knife glances off thick hide as the beast catches you across the side of the face with a set of razor-sharp claws. A howl echoes throughout the valley, one you can scarcely believe came from you, and not the Tuk'ata. Your jaw clenches in utter rage and you, determined not to die in the dirt at the hands of a hungry beast, wrap your arm around its neck and pull it close.

There, you feel it--a tuft of hair atop bare flesh on the top of its neck. The animal thrashes in your grip with tremendous strength, and you begin stabbing away at it the top of its neck. You slice up your own forearm in the frenzy, but your blade manages to find the creature's spine. Again and again you stab, animal screams filling your ear and hot blood covering your arms.

The Tuk'ata grows silent, but you don't stop stabbing until the creature's muscles go slack in your grip. Only then do you release it, rolling the dead beast off of you before heaving yourself into a seated position. Looking around frantically, you spot the rest of the pack still standing at the top of the hill--but only standing.

Adrenaline still pumping through you, you throw your arms out wide and let out a blood-curdling shout that sends the pack in a full retreat. You laugh madly, wiping the blood from your face as you fall to your knees beside your backpack. It's hard to tell how much of it is the Tukata's and how much is yours, but the searing pain all over your face, chest, and arms tells you that you earned more than a few deep gashes.

As you sit there, the last of the light shining above the hill beside you recedes, and you leap to your feet. You need to set up camp. Working quickly, you pull all manner of supplies from your pack until you find the glow lights you were looking for. You set all four sticks down in the dirt, creating a radiant square of light that encompasses you and the Tuk'ata carcass. The light will keep the Shyracks away, and from what little you can remember of your class on Korriban's fauna, the spilled blood of the Tuk'ata will ward off any more hounds. That, or it will attract them. You're very quickly learnings the value of paying attention to things with no immediate practicality.

>>2206152
Regardless, you're too exhausted to haul the carcass any further, especially with night falling so quickly. The adrenaline is wearing off, and your hands shake like leaves. Pulling out the few medical supplies you had taken along, you clean your wounds and apply bacta bandages to the areas wounded enough to warrant one. A patch of flesh between your left eye and ear feels particularly painful, and you're afraid to touch it any more than necessary. With that done, you roll out a mat in the center of the well-lit square and assume a kneeling position of meditation atop it. There will be no sleeping with the dangers of Korriban all around you--a tent might have kept out the sand, but it wouldn't stand up against another Tuk'ata. Instead, you intend to pass the night in a state of clear-minded awareness that allows you to rest your body while your senses remain ever vigilant. It is something you have practiced many times, although that was within the relative safety of the academy's walls.

And you quickly realize that meditation is much more difficult after a near-death experience. Your limbs won't stop shaking, even as they grow numb. You look down at your hands and clench them into fists to try to steady them, only for your vision to swim in a disorienting fashion. Had the fight affected you *that* badly? Or had you somehow lost more blood than you initially thought?

You turn your head to the bag beside you, but immediately regret the decision. The desert around you spins, becoming a whirling blur of dark and light that only settles after a few moments of keeping your eyes still. The glow lights around you become even brighter, and you can no longer see past them into the darkness. You look back at the Tuk'ata carcass, and see that it is standing on all fours, glaring at you with those blood-red eyes. You gasp and scramble off away, but as you turn back around with your knife in hand, you see that it is once again lying dead on the ground.

The world has become a nightmare--but not like any you've ever seen before. This is real, even moreso than the dream that drove you into the desert in the first place. The skitter of rocks draws your attention away from the Tuk'ata, to the edge of the square. Standing there, in her regal robe of purple and gold, is the bald Sith woman.

>>2206155
"How--" you start out, struggling to think through the haze. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, then point the knife at her. "How are you here?" you gasp out.

"I thought you might use some help." She walks over to the felled Tuk'ata and prods it with her foot. "But I suppose you handled yourself adequately."

As you stare at her with mouth agape, she moves away from the Tuk'ata and holds her hand out, palm down. As she draws her hand upward, the rocky ground rises upward until she has created a flat-topped growth just over a foot high. She sits down on top of it, crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on her thighs.

"Are you feeling alright?" She eyes you uneasily as you wobble from side to side. "You look ill."

You certainly feel it. With every passing moment, the disorientation becomes worse. Your stomach clenches so tight you might vomit, and a fire spreads outward from each wound the Tuk'ata has inflicted upon you.

"What's happening to me?" you ask, barely able to focus on her face.

"Why, you acted out of desperation. That's what." You can just barely perceive her nodding at the Tuk'ata carcass. "That's what happens when you wait until you're *starving* to hunt."

For a few moments, she says nothing and your vision grows even blurier. You stagger over to her, arm outstretched, waiting for the moment your fingertips will find her.

Then, she vanishes. You stumble forward and fall onto all fours, collapsing onto a flat ground with no Force-created chair of dirt. A lilting laugh sounds out all around you, and for one frightening moment becomes the barking cries of a Tuk'ata. You twist around to see the Sith standing at the other edge of the square, doubled over in laughter with her hand held to her stomach.

You're hallucinating. You have to be. You don't know why until your crawling path towards the center of the square meets with the Tuk'ata's carcass, and the blood still soaking into the dirt beside it.

Tuk'ata are venomous--you hadn't been bitted, but you had earned more than few cuts courtesy of its claws. Not to mention its blood pouring all over your open wounds. The Sith's laughter stops, and you look up to see her faces inches from yours. You grab at her in anger, but your hand passes right through the apparition, and her smile remains unbroken.

Then you realize--the medkit. Crawling right through the woman and over the Tuk'ata's carcass, you return to your bag and rummage through it. You can hardly see, and you have to squint as you search. Anti-venoms are expensive, but it's possible that the expeditionary medkits are stocked with just such a thing for Tuk'ata. As you throw out the last ration pack, you seen nothing but the bare canvas bottom of the pack.