At the End of the Road

[Gambler]

"Hey," a hazy voice called. "Wake up." The voice came from across a great distance. The words were dampened, and it took Elyra a while to understand them. "Hey!" the voice called again, more urgent than before. Elyra's eyes refused to open. She felt the ground pressed against naked flesh, but could not move. "Hurry up." The voice sounded agitated. Something shook her limp form. Her shoulder clipped a rock. Why couldn't she open her eyes?

"Is she awake?" another voice asked, joining the first. It seemed closer, less hazy.

"No," the first voice answered. It sounded masculine, but that was all she could tell. Pain blossomed at her temples as she tried to force her eyes open.

"Damn. You think she's dead?"

"Not yet. She's still breathing."

"Yeah, but so were those other two. They looked pretty damn hale to me right up to the moment they kriffing exploded." Elyra struggled against the void, trying to latch onto the ominous words. She would not die here. Anger consumed her as she careened through the darkness.

"Just help me get her up, alright?" The second voice grumbled something incomprehensible in reply. The first took it as acquiescence. "Here, help me lift her up. We'll take her to the others and see if water will work. It helped, sometimes."

"Yeah," the second voice replied. Elyra felt something press against her shoulders, and another pressure touched her legs. She tried to kick out, to open her eyes, to do something, but her body didn't respond. Her mind screamed out, and something twitched. Sluggishly, her eyes fluttered open. She groaned soundlessly as the full weight of exhaustion hit her.

"She awake?" the second voice asked. Elyra thought it was a man. He was short, but had a stockiness about him that made up for his lack of height. With her blurry vision Elyra couldn't make out his features, but she thought she saw a long bread braided into dark hair. She groaned in reply, and hearing her own voice lent her strength.

"I..." she trailed off to take a steadying breath. "I'm awake," she said groggily. Everything around her felt sluggish, uncontrolled, but it was better than helplessness. Her anger simmered down, finding its comfortable dormancy in the little knot of emotions that nestled inside her head. She clenched and unclenched her hands to get the blood flowing. "I'm awake," she repeated fiercely. She refused to allow herself to succumb to the darkness again.

"Good," the short man said. "We'll take you to the others now."

"Others?"

"Yeah, there's a bunch of us here. Twenty-three by my count. Should be twenty-eight, but five of the people we found died before we could get them up. And when they did, they..."

"Exploded," the second man finished for him. "The most kriffing disgusting thing I've ever seen. One minute they're sleeping peacefully and the next, boom. Blood and guts everywhere. Took a damn sight of a time to clean it out of my clothes. Kriff, the whole place smells like shit ever since."

"And we think there are still more people left to be found." The short man gave the other a long glance. "I'm Samuel, and this is Krush."

"Spelled with a 'k,'" the man said with a smile. The two men put Elyra down after a moment's hesitation, though their hands stayed near lest she fall. She waved them away.

"I can walk on my own, thank you," she said, barely keeping the bite out of her words. "I'm Elyra. Where are we?"

Samuel shrugged. "No idea. Last thing I remember is sitting down at the Outlander's Club on Coruscant for a drink. It goes from there to waking up down here. Wherever 'here' is. One thing's for sure though: we've been down here a while. Sometimes there are noises from above, as if heavy doors are being opened or something, but we haven't met anyone awake yet."

"What about my..." She paused. She had been about to say 'lightsabers,' but thought better of it. "Stuff? I had a lot of expensive equipment with me."

"Gone," Samuel said with another shrug.

"They damn well better not be," Krush muttered. "I had myself a lot of stuff with me. Kriffing bastards who took me better come down here soon. I'll give 'em something worth seeing." His tone was dark and Elyra could feel the anger in him. She let it feed her own and felt her power roil within her.

Elyra spent the rest of the walk in silence, taking in the rough walls around her and the light that spilled from glowtorches along the way. She tried to remember the last thing she had done, but nothing came to mind. All she could remember was telling Hasdrubal to look for... somebody. No names came to mind, though she had a feeling it was important. For a moment, panic consumed her.

"Was there... someone else with me?" she asked, an edge to her voice. "Tall, pale skin, light hair..." Both men shook their heads, and she felt her anger swell. She could feel Hasdrubal in her mind, but that did nothing to soothe her anger. He was distant from her, she knew, and he was most likely carrying out her last order. Eventually he would return. He would come searching for her, and their bond would lead him right to her. But, only if she could survive long enough for him to come.

"Take me to the others," she said with a fake smile. Anger continued to burn behind her golden eyes, half-hidden.

They reached the camp some time later. It was in a circular chamber, with countless crevices in the ceiling, some large enough to hide a man. Several pathways opened up into the chamber, each leading off into darkness. There were makeshift shelters strewn along the ground, most barely more than a net of jackets tied to the nearest stalagmite to be used as a hammock. True to Samuel's word, twenty or so people lingered about, an air of quiet desperation around them.

The majority of them had the look of out of work mercenaries, but there were a few who looked like Force users as well. It was impossible to tell their allegiance at a glance, though Elyra doubted any were affiliated with the Jedi or Bogan. None of them seemed to fit the bill at a glance.

"Well, here we are. Home sweet home until we can get the kriff out of here," Krush said. "Now, we'll see about getting you settled and--" A crash interrupted him. Shadows poured from the ceiling, dropping down in spidery forms. "What the kriff?!" Krush yelled, scrambling away as one landed centimeters from his face.

The kinrath leaped at the man, ripping through his chest with ease. Krush screamed as he died, fear edging his voice. Chaos engulfed the camp.

 

[Denzein]

The dead man had lied to the girl. He hadn't known he was doing it, but such excuses fell flat in the face of the one who had awoken first of all the people trapped in the alien hive. He would have been punished... Had he not already been killed by the voracious insects that seemingly infested this place.

It seemed he didn't even have to bother imposing his will anymore. Was the galaxy that broken to his will? Perhaps.

Nothing didn't know why he was here, or even how. Judging from the other survivors' comments he must have been taken in his sleep, which explained his lack of weaponry and attire (crimson silk pyjamas). This meant his abductors had been astronomically lucky: He slept once a month at best, usually preferring to meditate. It kept the nightmares at bay.

And yet it was those same nightmares that so plagued him usually that had played to his advantage in this place. He had dreamt of such horrors that he had woken abruptly, screaming the Fool's name as if it would save him from the only hell that held purchase over him now. He had come to not far from here, taken but a few seconds to take stock of his surroundings before getting up and wandering. He'd staggered at first, under the same numbing effects as the girl had just been. It had worn off quickly for him - he'd cleansed his system with the force. Soon enough he had found what the other prisoners were calling "home".

What a tragic name for it.

Samuel had been the second to wake, and had done so not long after Nothing himself. He still didn't know of Nothing's presence... He'd melted out of the poor man's existence the moment he'd come round. Jairo Light had nothing to fear from this predicament, so he had taken to observing those that did. He was the subliminal reason why the poor souls had gathered in this place, the reason they were sticking together and the reason why the insects were attacking now (or so he guessed for the last part). He was broadcasting a very slight beacon of force energy that simply drew sapient life in... While remaining utterly enveloped in blinding force energy himself. The others had simply been compelled to find him, the force sensitives most of all.

And they didn't even know he was there.

He watched as Krush was killed without so much warning as a scream. He watched as the creatures moved in for kill against the rest, and he watched as one scuttled right past him, oblivious to him. He had long since learnt to mask his heat signature while hidden in the force, and although he didn't know it was the reason for his anonymity it kept them from him nonetheless. Another captive went down to the chittering mass, screaming. He wondered how long it would take for the force users to take the initiative.

All the while he kept one eye on the newcomer; she had so far shown the same signs as himself after coming round, albeit with more of a fuss. Perhaps she would be a more pleasing object to observe than dear Samuel...

Unseen by everyone, the Great Destroyer watched the carnage unfold. He would have his reckoning with whoever had the nerve to bring him here... But first he wanted some fun. The force rippled in sympathy, projecting a feeling of anticipation instead of the beacon for a split second. He smiled, despite his lack of mask.

Show time.

 

[Gambler]

A white demon love song was on the wind.The creatures' legs threw bits of dirt and small pebbles into the air, hardly noticeable in the cacophony of screams that answered their passage. In the initial chaos, over half of the captives fell victim to the poisonous beasts. The remaining survivors boxed the kinrath in with makeshift weaponry. The larger men used their hands to beat the creatures to death, ripping insecticidal limbs from the bodies for their comrades. Those who did not have the raw power to take on the kinrath resorted to other means of attack.

Small groups isolated a few of the kinrath, using their superior numbers to slowly pummel the beasts to death. Some picked up fist-sized rocks to throw as a distraction for the others to utilize. Then came the Force users.

Once the initial shock of the invasion passed, the Force users began to organize themselves, throwing the kinrath against one another, crushing their bodies on the walls, and throwing small arcs of lightning into their midst. They were by far the most effective group there, and the most isolated. While the others fought in packs to ensure safety in numbers, the Force users were cocky with their power. They struck off on their own, looking out for themselves.

Elyra waited. A maelstrom of anger encompassed the room, and she fed off of it. She breathed in, inhaling the acrid scent of death and primal fear, turning the raw emotions into hatred. The hatred roiled within her, empowering her with its strength. She saw Samuel fall as the kinrath organized themselves. She remembered Krush's body, torn to shreds by the creatures' claws. She turned it all into hatred, coalescing her power into something tangible.

She felt it in the pit of her stomach as her power reached its apex. She opened her mouth and let out a scream. Raw, destructive power erupted from her throat. Her wail of refined hatred struck the kinrath, tearing the membranes of their flesh to shreds, rupturing their exoskeletons, searing their brains. The beasts could not counter the sheer power of the attack, and as one they fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Their screeches of pain, their wails of fear, bolstered her hatred, and she laughed.

Several of the non-Force sensitive survivors threw their hands to their ears and fell to the ground, unconscious or dead. Their minds were incapable of coping with the power, and like the kinrath, they fell prey to the hatred. Those who had a degree of potential with the Force were able to block out the majority of the attack as it wasn't directed at them, but even so a few fell to the floor, hands on their ears.

The kinrath weren't finished, however. Their screeches, the ones Elyra had thought of as dying gaps, called out to another of the hive. She felt the creature roar its anger at her. The kinrath queen come to protect her children. She screeched again, this time closer than the first. The stone shook as she tore through the crevice in the ceiling, dropping into the chamber. Her bulk was three times that of the largest kinrath, far greater than that of any man in the room. Her insecticidal eyes glared at Elyra, the promise of death more than an idle threat.

The beast roared again and began its charge, tearing through the bodies of the fallen, swatting aside men with sickle-like claws. Elyra stood her ground, basking in the absolute hatred the beast felt. She absorbed it all, amplifying her own to double that of the matriarch. She snarled in defiance and tore forward with the Force.

The ceiling fell, guided by Elyra's wrath. She slammed it into the matriarch, lifting the beast into the air. Her eyes livid with redoubled fury, Elyra smashed the beast into the wall. Sticky green blood splattered everywhere as the matriarch's exoskeleton shattered.

Elyra's hands cackled with energy as she unleashed the final seed of her hatred upon the beast. Lightning soared through the air, searing the beast like an unholy spear. The wall behind the matriarch erupted and the beast flew through the gap. Burning flesh and the groans of the fallen remained in the air.

But it was only the first wave.

 

[Brand]

Awareness.

Judicar felt a wall over his consciousness. He grasped it, striving to break through, driving his will into the solidity.

Feeling spread through his body. Grogginess slowly drained from his physical sense, and he quickly realized he was not alone. His eyes flickered open, and hearing returned to his ears. "Wake up! C'mon, get the kriff up!"

Judicar slowly came to the conclusion he had no idea where he was. A dark cave surrounded him, immense, humid, black. The voice he heard was sharply whispered, and he could hear the loud crackle and cry of what he perceived as combat in the distance. Judicar attempted to form words in his minds in response.

"Ungh... where... where am I?"

The shaking stopped abruptly. "Good, you're alive. I was worried for a second there, man."

"You didn't answer my question," Judicar replied irritably. He attempted to raise himself on his elbows, only to fall back to the cold stone floor. He waited a few more seconds, gathering his strength and feeling his way around the room with the Force.

"I would if I could. I think that's what everyone's asking."

"Mmm..." Judicar rose, sitting up with a grunt of exertion. None the less he could feel the strength slowly returning to his body. As his sphere of Force awareness expanded he could feel fear and pain emanating from a chamber not far from his current location. "What's going on? Is that a battle or summit over there?"

"Highly perceptive," the man whispered. "It is, and I'm hiding. Kinrath found us out, and conveniently I was in reach of this crack. I didn't even know I could fit through it."

Judicar saw the sliver of light poking through the front of the cavern. Judicar stood, looking down on the man whom he identified as at least a humanoid. "So you're a coward too, then?"

He kicked the man thoroughly in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, before proceeding to the sliver in the wall. He fed on his shock and pain, and decided he would be too incapacitated or afraid to retaliate. Judicar peered through the crack and could make out the blue of lightning and smell the burning and rotting of flesh. Sickly sweet, it consumed the entire room.

With his massive frame Judicar doubted he could fit through the hole, so he stepped back, raised his arm and released the Force in a concentrated push that knocked the old stone away, only enough to allow him to pass through. Judicar squeezed through the exit to be greeted by a reprieve in the battle. At least twenty people stood towards the center. He could barely make out the retreat of what looked like beasts, kinrath, as the man has identified, who laid close to the ground as his eyes adjusted to the low light. Groans of the wounded filled the chamber, and Judicar's frustration at the unknowns of his predicament fueled his anger within the Force.

Judicar cast out, and could immediately tell that he stood in the presence of powerful individuals similarly unclothed and slightly disoriented. A particularly powerful woman in the corner had a giant hole with a smoking kinrath corpse in front of her. He jogged over to her position, praying for clarity. "Hey, do you have any idea what's going on here?" He gestured at the hole in the wall, a testament to her unspoken power. "Quite a hole, I must say."

Judicar cast his gaze over the field of battle, watching for any more kinrath in preparation for a strike. His light tone betrayed an annoyedness that consumed him. He attempted to retake control of his emotions, bringing his crushing will to bear down on the panic that threatened to take him over. He dropped into a warrior's stance; any Bogan Crusader was a formidable warrior with or without his blades, and Judicar intended to prove that today.

His life depended on it.

 

[Denzein]

So many were already dead... Of the survivors and predators both. Nothing watched with fascination at how the creatures attacked and fed. They appeared to be able to subdue someone with a much smaller wound than should be necessary, which suggested poisonous bites. They were dismal creatures, large and swift yet possessed of a singular will: Their only compulsion was to feed, to consume these intruders to their domain.

So long as they left him alone, Destruction couldn't begrudge them that. This was their "home", not the survivors'.

He also noted the darkness that poured from the new girl in such interesting quantities. She emanated hatred, so much so that when she finally began to fight even he had to expend some energy to blot out her force scream. She'd killed several of the remaining captives and swathes of insectoids. She even killed a queen-beast fully three times larger than the others... Nothing congratulated himself on his fine choice of subject.

At least he did until the second darkling arrived, which presented him with a choice. There were precious few people left alive in the passage, most of the force users remained but apart from that the others had almost entirely been consumed. His choices were therefore limited; the boy or the woman?

While they were together he reserved judgement. A second wave of critters was fast approaching, carpeting the cave ahead with their sheer mass. Perhaps he would not have the luxury of his choice after they had been overcome as well. He realised he might actually have to step in himself if he didn't want to be completely alone down here. He wasn't sure if he wanted that yet, so the logical course of action was to keep some others alive, for now at least.

As a precaution, he stopped giving off the beacon. If there were any more survivors down here they would be on their own, but that wasn't Shade's concern. He was testing his theory that it was also drawing tides of the creatures in... If it was he was likely consigning all those not already nearby to death as the hordes dispersed back to their hidey holes, and if not it was of no further use.

Besides, he was already preparing for action. He just needed to decide which... He had three ideas in his head, each vying for supremacy. He would wait in the deepest shadows the force could provide until the indecisiveness had passed. It wouldn't be long now.

He would unmask, and all would turn to Nothing.

 

[Gambler]

The scene played out like a dustland fairytale. The survivors had been winnowed by a single wave, the weak culled in that initial strike. Dying men and women too weak to defend against the creatures groaned while the strong looked on. Some made efforts to see to the wounded, adhering to the simple principle of safety in numbers. Others disregarded the dying, recognizing that they had little time to prepare for the next onslaught.

The Force users began to drift towards one another, forming small, disorganized groups. They huddled near the center of the room, back to back, waiting with wild eyes. Those with a degree of talent in healing made their way to the wounded, healing the worst of the injuries where they could. It was an effective method, but they were wasting their energy. Those who had fallen in the initial strike had fallen because they were too weak to fight. What use was there in bringing them back into the fray when they would become an unnecessary burden?

Elyra sneered at the healers, contempt livid in her eyes. She watched them for a time, despising their wastefulness. There was safety in numbers, but a group was only as strong as their weakest link. The healers chose to see the first bit of logic, ignoring the second. Eventually, they would be forced to abandon the weak, catering instead to the strong to survive.

With each wave they would be weakened further, leaving a smaller, but stronger, number of survivors until there were too few to fight. Elyra smiled at the irony. In the end, all would amount to nothing. She could sense the beasts' in the distance, hear their clacking footsteps as they followed the light to the camp. Eventually, they would be overrun. It was only a matter of time. She clenched her jaw, anger burning in golden eyes. She refused to allow some mindless beast take her life. She would fight until the end, until there were no beasts left to kill. Her hatred would consume them all.

The matriarch's corpse smoldered in front of her. Its body was immense, the largest of any kinrath thus far. The creature was the ruler of this domain, and Elyra had slain it within moments. Her hatred had pummeled the beast into nothing. Her hatred had subsumed the beast's, leaving it a smoldering husk. So it would be with the rest.

A voice drew her from her reverie, and she whirled to greet it. "A very large hole," she agreed, eying the man in front of her. He was taller than the others in the camp by far, his shoulders wider and his arms thicker. His face was a map of hardened planes and angles, adding an element of intimidation to his appearance. Staring into his eyes, she recognized the contained hatred burning there. The man was a killer as much as any, one whose power relied on the hatred that clawed at his soul. She could feel the intensity of his hatred, honed to a deadly, but crude, edge.

"If you want to know where we are, then you know as much as anyone else here. I doubt I need to tell you what you've undoubtedly heard already." There was a hint of question in her voice. "As for what is going on, just look around. This place was attacked, leaving most of the people here dead. Only the strong or resourceful survived the attack," she said, her contempt for the latter of the survivors obvious. They would have their uses, however, and that was enough for her to contain her disgust. At the very least she could use them as a source of hatred to fuel her power.

"I don't think this was the end of it. I can feel others in the distance, growing closer with each breath." She let her eyes wander the chamber. "This place is too open," she said. "So many ways for the beasts to come at us. If we stay here we won't be able to last for long. They'll drop in at us from all angles and tire us with each pass. But if we go into one of the tunnels..." she trailed off with a sigh. The entire situation was a mess. Too many possibilities. She just didn't know enough about the place to make any good calls.

"I'm Elyra," she said after a pause. "If you have any bright ideas, now would be a good time to voice them. Preferably before the next wave hits us. I have a feeling that the next is going to be bigger than the first." Her eyes trailed to the ceiling. "Much bigger."

 

[Brand]

Judicar nodded, taking in the woman's hurried assessment. He surveyed the rocky field, taking in the subtle nuances of the terrain that could prove to his and the team's advantage. It would do to work as group for so long as it was convenient for the Dark sider.

"I'm Elyra," she said after a pause. "If you have any bright ideas, now would be a good time to voice them. Preferably before the next wave hits us. I have a feeling that the next is going to be bigger than the first." Her eyes trailed to the ceiling. "Much bigger."

"Doran Olson," he lied smoothly. No use giving away his true identity yet. "I think we're going to have to use the cave's features to our advantage." He gestured to the hanging stalagmites. "Bringing those down on the beasts could slow them down and create some barriers for us. From what I've gathered, most of our living companions are also sensitive to the Force, so we're not totally helpless."

Judicar cast out with the Force, searching for any more approaching beasts.

"You're right; they'll be back."

 

[Denzein]

Oh how absolutely delightful... They were making nice. The Hate-girl and the Liar forging friendship from strife? No. Nothing gave them an hour at the most before they were at eachother's throats. He hoped he was there to see it, he'd have put money on the girl, if he had it stashed somewhere in his pyjamas. He didn't, as it happened.

He'd made his decision, and it was for him to know and others to ponder. The only thing even vaguely relevant to the pair at this moment in time was that it was time for him to reveal himself, to the insect menace and the survivors both.

He did so without ceremony or flourish. The only thing that announced his presence was the ripple of simple power through the force as his cloak collapsed in on itself, and the fact that a pyjama wearing man had seemingly melted from the darkness without any noise whatsoever. Unlike the others he was not bedraggled or scared, dishevelled or wounded. He was calm and composed; he gave off an aura of palpable confidence. He was the Destroyer.

Paying no attention whatsoever to the other survivors, he simply padded barefoot past the talking pair without a word. He was walking straight towards the chittering tide, a faraway look in his eyes. Almost distractedly he muttered something out of the corner of his mouth. It was quiet, but somehow it carried to everyone still alive.

"Run if you can. They will not withstand me."

Every word was true, and the survivors knew it. They didn't know how, but his words were simply plausible. A few began to back off, staggering, limping or sprinting down the many passages that led off from "home". There was no cohesion, no togetherness.

Nothing had willed it so.

 

[Gambler]

Shadows played on the walls. The majority of the remaining survivors fled, each heeding the new voice in their own way. A few who were not completely overwhelmed by it ran in tight groups of three or four, but not many adhered to logic. Their instincts screamed at them to flee, and the power laden suggestion thrust that to the forefront of their minds. They ran from the chamber, kicking up clouds of dust in their wake, leaving only five strong willed individuals to face the next wave.

Elyra watched in silence as the survivors dwindled, unable to speak past the suggestion. She was able to crush her impulse to flee with a blinding surge of hatred, but it took an immense amount of will to keep her feet planted on the ground. Those who had fled were alone now, and would be cut down as soon as the creatures found them. One or two might find an exit, but the rest would die.

Perhaps running was the prudent course in this case. If she ran she might be able to find the entrance and leave without further injury. The others would all die, but she had known that since the first wave struck. She was the only one capable of surviving to make it to the surface. Anyone else would just hold her back, making it easier for the kinrath to wear her down. It would be so much easier than holding such an open chamber, waiting for them to cut her allies down and then herself when she was finally alone. Prolonging it would just make it so much harder to accept in the end. Besides, the stranger in front of her was far more capable of killing off the beasts...

She shook herself, crushing the Force-laden thoughts with surge after surge of hatred. She did not allow it to show on her face, but rather confined it to rim her eyes with a malicious glow. The compulsion ate at her, a testament of the stranger's power, but she refused to give into it. Her hatred was stronger than his, regardless of his power. Running was suicide, and she knew it. If she ran, the stranger would know that his will was stronger than hers, and she would eventually die with the knowledge that she was a lesser being than him.

She broke the compulsion, regarding the stranger with suspicion. "Who do you think--" A cacophony of hissing clacks interrupted her. The horde emerged from the tunnels once more, some with fresh blood splashed along their skin. They were bigger this time around. Their exoskeletons seemed to glow faintly as opposed to the dull green that settled around the previous wave, giving their beady eyes a demonic cast and illuminating viciously sickled claws. There were a score of them in total, with a chorus of clicks behind them announces at least a dozen more on their way.

One of the beasts leaped at Elyra, catching her off guard. It's massive body slammed into her, stealing the breath from her lungs before she could react. She toppled to the ground, several knife-like legs inches from her face. She rolled, acting on instinct to escape. Stone sprayed behind her where the creature's claws slashed the ground. She kept rolling, ignoring the pain thudding along her spine, until she was clear of the creature's reach. Then she struck.

Hands splayed out in front of her, she unleashed a wave of energy, throwing the beast several feet through the air. Its exoskeleton cracked when it came into contact with the wall and it hissed in pain. It scrambled to its feet, readying itself to charge again. Elyra didn't give it the opportunity. She tore at the ceiling, dragging stalactite after stalactite onto its head. After the debris cleared, only a broken husk remained. But she didn't have time to gloat over her victory.

The horde charged.

 

[Brand]

Fear.

It still ran in pulses from the survivors, and Judicar savored it. He feasted, the delicious emotion wafting from his terrified companions. The one standing next to him, however, was a rock, who emanated a skill that was to be feared more than others.

Judicar also felt confident. He sucked in the raw power that spilled into the room, and felt his own strength increasing. A pawing, clicking sound suddenly echoed through the room as a mass of more kinraths flooded the room's various entrances. The woman at his side was caught off guard as one bounded forward and landed directly on her. Judicar spun, a booming shout of rage and defiance filling his lungs.

Judicar had only a second's warning after seeing Elyra taken down. She struggled next to him as another of the ferocious beasts leaped towards him, its legs outstretched towards him. Judicar sidestepped, but the beast caught him on the right arm. He let out an audible grunt of pain as the full weight of the body slammed into his shoulder, and a loud 'pop' sounded loudly through the chamber. His shoulder had been dislocated, and pain shot through Judicar's body.

Red hate filled the eyes of Judicar, but he regained control of his body. He had tempered himself into a warrior, and that discipline would allow him to continue. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Elyra pushing the kinrath off her as Judicar extended his good left arm. Out of the palm a vicious Force push exploded, driving the kinrath directly into the ground. The fleshy head of the beast splattered green bodily fluids onto Judicar's naked body. He wiped the goo from his face, clearing his eyes, and gasped as another wave of pain from his arm rode through his body. Judicar could see the encroaching swarm advancing, but ran to the wall that was nearby, slightly dented from the earlier action of Elyra.

Judicar picked up a running pace, twisted his body to the side and, with a jolt, went shoulder first into the wall. A cry of pain rose unbidden from Judicar's lips as his shoulder returned to it's socket, a testament to the pain endured by the resilient human.

The searing flames of anger raged inside of Judicar's chest, and he called the Force inside himself, unleashing the flood wells and releasing all of the pent up emotions to flow through his body. It burned hot through his veins, energizing and galvanizing Judicar into action.

The horde approached swiftly, covering ground over the cavern's stone floors. Judicar gathered himself to unleash the wrath of a Bogan scorned and provoked.

 

[Denzein]

(OOC: internet ate the long version of this, I really didn't want to write out 40mins worth of type a second time)

The other two were beset instantly as the horde descended for the second time, and from the sounds of what was transpiring behind the Destroyer the Liar was hurt badly before killing an opponent, whereas the Hate-girl decided to bring the roof down upon her attackers. Nothing was quietly shocked: he'd never have dreamt of destabilising the roof - it was probably the one thing in this entire situation that posed him any threat.

He walked on as the creatures attacked the others, heedless of them as they were heedless of him. Was it apprehension in their tiny minds that stayed their hand against him? Fear? Recognition of a worthy opponent?

Nothing was none of these things. He was so much more.

Two came for him, long seconds after the attack had commenced on the other two. They broke his reverie with their slashing claws, glinting cruelly in the dark. In so doing they awoke their doom. Jairo Light opened his eyes, and showed the beasts what festered inside him.

Nothing.

The pair of them tore themselves to ribbons, ripped apart by the simple energy of the force contained within his impassive gaze. The other Kinrath faltered for a heartbeat at such a display, and this was all the invitation the Great Destroyer needed.

He infused the air with Force Horror, showing every thing that clung to its existence in that cave the terror. The simple minded creatures knew little of fear, but Nothing rectified that in moments. He became the image of their perfect predator, and they cowered before him. He smiled, delighting in their realisation of the entity before them. He cared not what effect the power had upon the more sentient of the living things in the cave.

Capitalising upon their hesitation, he struck again. Lifting another of their number into the air with but a gesture, he snapped its neck with a controlled force burst before it could so much as screech its displeasure. He cast its corpse into a group of the foul things before realising he was laughing. Was he really enjoying himself that much?