A Show of Force

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Deep within the jungles of Felucia existed the many varied tribes of natives spread all across the planet's surface. Darth Malos it seems had set his sight upon this world and did declare that its inhabitants would kneel and join the new Sith Empire or die for their defiance. Before the planet would be truly worthy of the Sith name, the force adept Shaman caste would first cut down and cleansed where only the most blighted and corrupted dark sider could emerge from.

But first, they laid the trap.

Both Sith Knights Xornoth and Baalryc spread the word of their challenge to the Felucian shamans. They boldly declared that they alone possessed power beyond anything that the primitive natives could comprehend but offered a challenge to be proven wrong. It did not take long for word to spread and soon the ten strongest shamans arrived at the location set by the Sith.

Fortunately, they had time to prepare for their guests.

Spoiler: OOC

@The Matt @Arclight Dice thread

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Xornoth had spent most of their preparation time walking across the fantasy landscape that the planet offered and took in the various sights and smells. He was careful not to ingest anything lest the colored objects respectfully disagree with his stomach or in simpler terms, kill him outright.

The Shaman they were told to expect would be amongst the very best that Felucia had to offer and the task itself may prove to be the toughest considering how the common folk spoke of their challenge. He had left Baalryc the task of finding a suitable location to set their trap, as that seemed like something he would enjoy doing and instead himself set to work trying to learn what kind of abilities or talents that were known to be used by their likely foe.

Unfortunately, while the common folk would speak of them, none would even stay long enough in his presence to even acknowledge him. It seemed that he would go into the engagement blind as to the opponent's real capabilities although he suspected between the two of them that they could handle whatever these savages could muster, he hoped.

Spoiler: OOC

@Arclight bad die

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

The Jungle planet of Felucia was alive with the Force. The over abundance of living creatures formed a conduit. A conduit of the light side. A very irritating conduit of the light side. The unfortunate thing about being surrounded by so much life was that it became difficult to pick out the individuals. Like a Felucian savage sneaking through the jungle to spy on the group. The one with Baalryc's lightsaber sticking out of his chest. They had already trekked the jungle for hours seeking a suitable ambush spot, but had so far come up short. So he had decided that they would meet the shamans face to face, with the Bombardiers on standby.

Baalryc's fellow Sith, the Kaleesh Xornoth Sk'ar, had gone ahead to seek information. Baalryc hoped he had been more successful than his failed search for an advantageous position. With little other choice, Baalryc had sent most of his men to hide in the trees, while retaining a squad of ISF troopers to act as his personal guard. The shamans would soon arrive to the small show of force, which mirrored the Sith Knight's claims that they possessed power far greater than these shamans. Which was true of course, no mudball shaman could compare to the power of a Sith Knight, the title still so new that it felt like tacky paint to the tongue as the word tried to roll off it.

Baalryc hoped Xornoth would be back soon as he caught glimpse of the shamans trudging through the treeline. He stood waiting for them, his old Exile battle armor cutting an intimidating visage to match the tortured carved faces of the Felucian's masks. Some color left Baalryc's face as the wizened old Felucian's entered the clearing. Not because they physically frightened him, but because he could sense their power in the force as they entered the clearing. While individually their strength within the Force varied almost as greatly as their alignment with the dark or the light, Baalryc could sense that a pair of the shamans possessed or nearly possessed levels of power equal to Baalryc's own. The Shamans lined up before Baalryc, standing ten strong abreast, their postures ones of defiance, even with their expressions hidden behind their masks.

@Xorism

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Xornoth returned figuratively empty-handed to the clearing to join Baalryc much to the latter's disappointment. Now before them stood the ten shamans who had answered their call and who waited impatiently for this show of force that they had been promised. Xornoth looked each one up and down searching for clues that would help the pair defeat them until he laid eyes upon what would be the weakest link in the decade, which he then called forth in particular.

True they could sense the force emanating from each and everyone but Xornoth had clearly marked this one out as the least force trained, or at least in his opinion the one who would be most susceptible to the mind tricks that he intended to employ. To begin he would first need to shift the victims outright defiance towards a more defensive stance which would lead to fear. Fear itself would unlock the many unknowing barriers that force users could prop up against another and it was unknown if this shaman themselves typically practiced defending themselves against the attack he was attempting.

Hiding behind his mask, the Kaleesh warrior stood directly across from the shaman who now stood only ten feet away. Subtly he been focused on the exposed throat and began to apply pressure, starting very weakly and gradually increasing as it approached him. He was aiming to seem like his presence alone was enough to cripple the alien and make it difficult for it to breathe. Shortly, he would exploit the desperation as the creature struggled for oxygen which would hopefully weaken it's mental defenses enough for exploitation.

@Arclight

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

Baalryc judged each of the ten shaman, from strongest to weakest. The weakest among them was targeted by Xornoth, likely hoping to make an easy impression. He called upon the shaman, requesting his presence. Baalryc could sense his subtle manipulations of the Force as he sought to strike fear into the weak individual in hopes of swaying the group. A poor impression that would make, in Baalryc's opinion. Picking off the weaker links was an excellent tactic in battle, likely the warriors area of expertise much as Baalryc's. But this subtle move would unlikely leave a lasting impression. They were on Felucia to show off the power of the Sith, not their cunning.

Looking at the group of force users before them, Baalryc felt the fear of failure rise within him. While many would seek to push away the fear, seeing it as an emotion of weakness, Baalryc knew that was wrong. Fear was a tool, a tool he stoked as he selected his victim. The Darkside blossomed forth from his fear, and Baalryc heeded its call as it drew his attention to a shaman of middling power, aligned strongly within the light for a non Jedi. This was the link that needed to go, an anchoring point for those weaker. If they could sway the rabble to their side, the strongest of the group would soon crumble.

Reaching towards his pray both with his left hand and his mind, Baalryc ripped the shaman from his feet before he had a chance to defend himself against the abrupt attack. His feet skidded among the brush as his throat made its way to Baalryc's hand. The familiar hunger gnawed withing Baalryc, stirred by his use of the Darkside. While the hunger was used to Baalryc's defiance, it yielded no hesitation to his open acceptance of it, the ravenous void opening up to swallow Baalryc's offering. The fingertips of his right hand pressed into the flesh of the Felucian's head. Ghastly red lightning flickered between his hand and the Felucian's head, the shaman's cry of suffering echoing within the Force as Baalryc consumed his essence.

"Who dares to oppose me!? Behold the power of the Sith!" Baalryc shouted as the withered husk of the former shaman fell to the ground at his feet, shrunken mouth open in a scream of agony. Power rushed to Baalryc's head, the shaman's spirit energizing him like a drop of Coaxium in a sublight drive. He yearned for the thrill of battle, the rush of rage and bloodlust to come. But first they had a job to do. "Will this be your fate!?" Shouting as he pointed down to the withered corpse. "Or will you bow to the Sith Order, and learn of true power." Ending with a lowered voice as he waited to see how the remaining shamans would react to the death of their fellow. It didn't take long before another shaman, this one older and hunchbacked, stepping forth, his presence within the Force filled with loss and rage. Looking between the old man and the corpse at his feet, Baalryc smirked underneath his helmet.

"Was this one your son?" Shaking his head, Baalryc readied himself. "Have you come to bow? Or have you come to join your son?" Mocking the man's loss in hopes of stirring his rage, Baalryc readied himself. The Force surged around the old man as he chanted, the other shamans watching with interest. He could have cut off the man's ritual, but Baalryc was curious as to what he was doing. He didn't have long to wait however, as the glowing vines and tanglethin roots twitched and wriggled at his feet for a moment before surging upwards.

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Xornoth gazed directly into the eyes of the shaman before him as the effects of the force choke began to make itself more readily felt on the alien's short throat. Initially, a discomfort turned into a vicious vice-like grip upon the poor creature as it threw its hands up to its throat to try and scratch the invisible barrier away. The gathered crowd watched both displays of power with keen interest as the shaman in front of Xornoth collapsed onto his knees in desperation.

Fear is a powerful motivator for all creatures and most of all the Sith. It is a power that can lay dormant, subtly manipulating your actions while being held back but truly the real power comes from embracing fear and using it to your advantage against your enemies.

Releasing the chokehold upon the shaman, Xornoth plunged his mind into that of his now disrupted opponent's mental defenses. Like barriers before him, their minds clashed with one giving chase and the other trying to set hurdles to prevent entry. The weak force user was most vulnerable to this attack because he had shown fear before one who sought it. The shaman's defenses were shattered time and time again until he could resist no further. Having now broken his mind, Xornoth set to work pulling at every terrorizing event that he could find until he settled upon one to terrible, it set the shaman into a full-blown panic attack.

Nothing had occurred on the outside but silence as the crowd watched with interest, the now startled shaman rose quickly, screaming in some tongue or another of some horror he had lived and runoff. Given Xornoth's technical ability, the alien would recover but for their purposes, it would be out of the fight so to speak. Taking a moment to review Baalryc's handy work, he nodded to his fellow Sith.

@Arclight

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

Vines shot up Baalrycs legs, constricting them. The crawling branches and tendrils crept up his stomach and chest. Baalryc struggled for a moment before realizing physical resistance was futile. The Dark side seemed to quiver in excitement at the premise of his death at the hands of this backwoods sorcerer.

Not today. Baalryc thought to no one in particular as his anger was directed towards the shaman, his mocking amusement towards the old man turning to raw hatred. Reaching towards the man as vines crept down his shoulder, Baalryc's anger turned into a solid band around the mans neck, squeezing the air from his throat and the blood from his brain.

The plants shuddered as the man directing them died, his neck snapping under the pressure of Baalryc's hatred. The plants swiftly began to wilt as they felt the cost of such rapid growth, quickly drying out and getting brittle. Stepping out of his entanglement, shedding plant detritus, Baalryc returned Xornoth's nod before turning his eyes on the remaining shaman and shouted "Who's next?!"

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Xornoth successfully drove off the weakest and now he turned to the strongest and summoned them forward. This one he could tell was more attune with the force but was not committed either side although only a slight tendency toward the light which would make this more exciting. Xornoth would again attempt to use mental trickery on the shaman but given the parity in force ability, he correctly deduced that a successful offensive into the others mind would be fruitless.

This time he would focus on the defensive and set up his own defensive barriers and traps within his mind. Small probing mental attacks were launched to tempt the shaman into retaliation which at first he refused to do, being mildly irritated so far. Slowly his persistence would net some reward as this alien grew weary of constantly defending the random and pointless attacks which were more akin to fly swatting than any danger.

Time continued to pass as the other shaman watched on the battle of wits in silence with no apparent physical change in the ongoing battle of the minds. Small beads of sweat appeared on both faces but otherwise, nothing could be seen.

Annoyance turned to frustration and finally, the alien shaman lashed out towards the Kaleesh and smashed through layer after layer of defenses that had been so carefully laid earlier. Xornoth emitted a sense of anguish outward in the force which was evident in their mental battle and the shaman felt the thrill of success wash over the anger that precipitated the mental outburst. Seconds later another and then a third attack were unleashed battering and thrashing barriers inside Xornoth's mind.

The shaman had experienced the thrill of the dark side pulsing through his body leaving a very noticeable taint of corruption on the little alien, one that would grow and develop on its own like a twisted seed now implanted into the very essence of the force within him.

The corrupted shaman no longer felt the yearning of his others and instead moved opposite the others feeling contempt for them, rather than Xornoth and Baalryc as the group originally had.

Xornoth was well prepared for the attack and would recover but would need a short rest before he could attempt to use the force again.

@Arclight

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

With two dead it was obvious that Baalryc represented the physical side of the show of strength, mercilessly destroying the weak. This ran counter to Xornoth's methods of sowing fear and corruption, terrorizing one of the shamans into fleeing, and turning another to their side. Of the remaining six shaman, five of them stood together, and one stood alone. The five shaman all appeared to be of the same tribe, sporting similar masks and trinkets. Whichever tribe boasted the cadre would truly be the strongest. Of the five, one wore the garb of a leader, his ornate mask and strong aura within the lightside signalling it. Two of the Shaman were older, hunched and weak. They weren't much of a threat in Baalryc's mind. And the last two, young and fit, armed with carved and polished wooden quarterstaffs. Those would cleave right in two before Baalryc's lightsaber. The quintuplet moving in unison as they came to a decision, stepping away from the loner.

The loner was another matter entirely. While unable to tell the age of the Felucian, he seemed to hold himself with as one who had just passed their peak. His trinkets were more gruesome, dismembered animal limbs instead of beads or crystals, teeth and leather and bone instead of woven cloaks and carved wooden trinkets. More importantly, his aura, that of a darksider. Had this man been born to civilization he would likely have been a competent Exile and Sith. He seemed to watch with amusement as the five light-sided shaman moved to attack Baalryc and Xornoth.

All of this Baalryc noticed as he and Xornoth were advanced upon. The lightsided shaman seemed to act in desperation, fear of the death of their way of life spurring them onwards, perhaps hoping that if they won this competition the Sith would leave them be. They were right, this would be the death of their way of life. And they were wrong. Even if they killed Baalryc, Xornoth, and all the Bombardiers, they would not be safe. The Sith would just come in greater numbers. As mere Sith Knights, Baalryc and Xornoth were of little significance to the Imperial war machine. This often infuriated Baalryc, that he was so dispensible, just another soldier in another army. Fanning the flames of his anger, Baalryc opened himself up to the Darkside, commanding it to serve him.

"That one, he could be turned." Gesturing to the lone shaman for Xornoth. "I will hold these ones while you work your magic." Smirking at the Kaleesh, Baalryc felt a tinge of jealousy at the Knight's command of mind and manipulation. More fuel for the fire, to stoke it higher. Dumping his jealousy into the furnace that roared within him, Baalryc gripped his lightsaber, stomping his foot as he ignited the crackling crimson blade in a show of intimidation. "Do you see our power?! That it would take all five of you to beat me in your minds. Kneel and i may not kill you!" Baalryc snarled in rage as the lead shaman stood at the back of the group and began to chant. The force rippled, and the elderly pair kneeled, producing small drums which they began to beat rhythmically, clearly entering into some sort of meditative trance. The pair of druidic warriors formed the vanguard of their formation, whirling their staffs as they approached.

Baalryc wasn't entirely certain of what they were doing. but it wasn't good news.

@Xorism

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Both Sith knights were under attack from the five and Xornoth knew that he wouldn't be able to freely manipulate the lone shaman while these five were still actively fighting them. It seemed that their little challenge had been successful as they felt compelled to attack them finally, as a group no less to try and stop them before they fell one by one. Although he was mentally feeling the drain as his force exertions were catching up to him he was still physically very much in the game as Xornoth ignited his lightsaber some five meters from Baalryc.

"Aye perhaps, but first that one is mine." he pointed to one of the weaker but older shamans who was on the left flank of the group. Xornoth had always been one for reckless aggression which didn't always work out well for him especially when it had put him on the very edge of death several times already. This time he would confidently walk forward leading with his right foot and approached his target with his blade vertically standing on his left side. It didn't take long for him to reach their position and even less time for him to strike the old Felcucian.

Driving the attack on his left foot for an extra push his blade swept horizontally from a lower left position to right with a slight vertical angle. This would drive the blade from the left midsection of the shaman if it connected and push through to the other side exiting his upper chest on the right. This took advantage of the fact that their prey was unable to actually defend against their lightsabers owing to their primitive technology.

The attack was a destructive success as his blade found the exposed flesh of the Felucian, easily bisecting him from left to right which killed the alien on the spot. The downside to this attack was that by attacking from his left, Xornoth had completely left his right unguarded and he would pay for his dearly as the next in line shaman swung and connected a well-placed quarterstaff strike on his upper back as Xornoth passed the line by.

This left the Kaleesh stumbling forward off balance and eviscerated the oxygen in his lungs as he exhaled in agony and at least one rib cracked. He found himself tumbling towards the lone dark side user who was watching him intently.

Xornoth made the immediate decision to disengage with the four remaining shamans and instead focused on the one ahead of him. The darker one had erupted with laughter as he had torn through the one previously, clearly, his loyalty did not lie with them and his heart was already corrupted. Xornoth trusted that Baalryc would be able to handle himself with the remaining four as he pondered if he could convince this other one to join them diplomatically, rather than by force.

@Arclight

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

Baalryc nodded as Xornoth charged, his intent of cutting down the weaker members of the pack, most likely a keen predator instinct within the warrior. As Xornoth opened up one of the kneeling old men on his way past the enemy formation, one of the shamanistic warriors had turned and given chase, striking at the Kaleesh Sith, delivering a powerful blow with his staff.

And more importantly, turning his attention away from Baalryc. As the other warrior approached, Baalryc reached his empty hand towards the inattentive warrior, grasping him by the throat with a telekinetic grip and violently dragging the warrior towards himself. His blade came to redirect a horizontal lash of the Felucian's staff towards his head, driving it upwards as he slashed down, powering the blade downwards with his wrist and forearm to score a line of seared flesh and bone down the back of the Felucian who Baalryc had pulled into lightsaber range. Flicking his wrist downwards he inverted his blade to point towards the ground as he brought it once more against the surviving warrior's quarterstaff.

Behind Baalryc the IDF shock troops had begun to get edgy, watching the display of power with a mixture of admiration and fear. They itched to join their battle and help their commander, but had yet to receive the signal for assistance. Dutifully they awaited and watched as the battle unfolded before them.

@Xorism

 

[Xornoth Sk'ar]

Xornoth cautiously approached the remaining darkness inclined shaman keeping a close eye on the Felucian but noted that it did not seem too focused on his approach but rather it seemed to be watching the diminishing group opposing Baalryc with glee. It was almost like he took a twisted enjoyment out of seeing his own kin slaughtered and laid to waste, perhaps he would have done it himself if they weren't there for the task themselves.

"About time somebody showed those old fools their party tricks were useless trinkets of the past." Xornoth was surprised, but in a good way, to hear that opinion come out of his mouth as it would make his job easier. "The reach of the Empress and her empire has found its way to your world, Felucian. You can feel its power, can't you? resistance is futile and all will serve or be subjugated, the choice is yours."

The cackling Felucian turned to Xornoth with a sly smile on his face. "Empress, empire or Sith it is all the same to me. Irrelevant. You won't strike me down like these idiots though, you need me more than I need you. Let me return to my village in peace and now without the sages to stop me, I shall be free to spread my teaching across the entire world."

Xornoth simply nodded. The darkness was sufficiently strong within this one that letting him go would benefit their cause more than any risk it could generate. After all, their mission had been to corrupt and they had. Now they just had to finish the rest off and they could finally return home victorious.

@Arclight

 

[Baalryc Ysirath]

Baalryc's blade contacted the Felucian's staff. And was batted aside mercilessly. Baalryc gasped as the staff hammered into the side of his armor like a speeder, the force transferring enough through the armor to bruise heavily. Had he not been wearing the armor he would likely be pissing blood. More importantly, his blade was inside the shaman's guard. The split second opening was all he needed, and with a flick of the wrist the shaman's hand began its fall to the ground, carrying the staff with it. His thirst for blood was not satisfied by a simple dismemberment however, and his blade continued its path through the hand to loop down and back up to line up for a lunge at the native's throat.

Stepping over the dead body, Baalryc watched as the chief stepped fowards, brandishing a staff of his own. The whole affair was getting tiresome, and Baalryc had had enough. "Stun them." Raising a hand in a fist and then opening it as he spoke. The Shock troopers wasted no time, shouldering and firing their weapons at the two lightsided shaman. They went down in a flurry of stun blasts, and the troopers hurried to restrain and detain them.

Stalking over to Xornoth and the remaining Shaman, lightsaber still ablaze, Baalryc came in on the tail end of the conversation. "You overestimate your importance shaman. You may return to your village and spread your teachings, but always remember that the Sith are superior. When your students come of age, they will be given to the Sith. If your teachings are worthwhile they will be allowed, welcomed even, so long as the ultimate destination is the Sith." Raising his saber to level on at the shaman's face, humming red plasma hovering inches from the man's face. "Should we discover any kept from our Order when the time comes, your teachings will be extinguished along with your life." Continuing to hold the blade on the man's face, he uttered a final, decisive question, "These are the terms, accept them or else your life is forfeit."

The Felucion seemed to gulp, considering for a moment, before nodding. "Kneel before your new lords, the Sith." The man obeyed as Baalryc kept the end of his saber trained on the alien's face. The saber floated slowly closer to the Felucian's forehead, until it was so close that the heat radiated off the blade and began to burn the flesh beneath. The Felucian trembled, but remained kneeling. Deactivated the blade, it hissed into nonexistance as the Felucian seemed to exhale in relief. "Stay on your knees and you might see your teachings become a part of the Sith. To stand is to become Sith or to die." Done with the man, he turned to Xornoth.

"I think that takes care of that." Clasping an arm around the Sith's shoulders, he pointed to the pair of prisoners, following as his men dragged them away. "I've got ideas for those two, a sort of experiment. Perhaps you would like to join me?" A cruel laughter bubbling forth as he rode the high of the last dregs of power burned from the first shaman's spirit. Pretty soon the hunger would be returning.

And perhaps Baalryc would indulge once more.

//endthread.