Welcome to the Family

[Cyzyn-Itza-Rus Xho'thal]

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The Prakith Cathedral is what they had called it. Now as Cyzyn-Itza-Rus looked upon it for the first time he thought he would like to meet Leviticus and those that helped him establish the structure. The architecture was sound and not gaudy like some buildings in the galaxy these days. It partially reminded him of older constructs that now lay in ruins, testaments to feats accomplished long ago. But the Tiss'shar felt it would not join the other ruins of nations long dead, not yet.

The Nerf-herder light freighter he still used as a transport wound down its engines behind him. Rat, the MR series astromech droid that accompanied came down the ramp after him. Cook, the GP series protocol droid he had purchased some time ago accompanied the smaller automiton. With a wave of his hand he signaled for both of the droids to stop and stay with the ship. Cyzyn-Itza-Rus had left his two bodyguards on some forgettable tropical planet. The name of it even sounded ostentatious. They had earned some vacation days recently and he did not want them seeing the Cathedral and the numerous Exiles that frequented the location.

Today he had come to the Cathedral to both see the architecture as a monument to the Jedi Exiles. But that was not all. Both of his lightsabers were to be changed today. First would be his master's saber. It was a bisector configuration, the cross guard different than a simple ninety degree cross guard style hilt. His own actually house two crystals within them and was made up of two blades. One was a dual phase shoto, the other a normal dual phase blade. It was a one of a kind as far as he knew, which he dubbed the raiser style. In the end they were just tools to be used at his own digression. The thunderslug pulse wave blaster pistol on his hip was the same as his choice of melee weapons in terms of sentiment. The pistol had been looted from a body he had committed to the eternal sleep.

As the Tiss'shar approached the door of the Cathedral his nose picked up on the scent of cooking. He had not realized it but the dark sider had not eaten for several hours. Whatever was cooking smelled good. As he made his way through the vaulted halls of the Cathedral he picked up on the anguish that emanated deeper inside. As far as he was concerned it was business as usual. The halls and rooms were for the most part empty and quiet, making the sounds the echoed from deeper within easier to hear. Cyzyn-Itza-Rus ignored them. He was simply hungry and needed to eat before his blue and green blades were forever changed. Afterwards he would likely leave and not return for years to come.

 

[Nasaug]

Watching the leaving Cathar with out showing any emotion Nasuag made sure to remember all of this. Picking the hands out of his bowl he licked them clean before passing them over to Malthazar.

Will you and make sure she remembers? We have things to discuss later of the Anzati missions. I have a need to go on a hunt where when and what i kill will be worthy of a proper death, not one where they are just left for the bugs to feast upon with out a proper and honorable burial.

Bowing to all he moved on to his room. As he moved down the hallway he came across two more Exiles an Ecchi and another little fella. This little one looked like one that was discribed to him as the one that loosed the Aleen by the name Halc Griemer.

My Lady. Are you ..... Poot? An aleen asked me to thank you for the help. Though I should toss you from the peak for having to hunt him down, yet he is some one that has become dear to me. If you wish to see him again then come find me. Until then food is ready in the dinning hall, roasted meat and fresh bread.

Nasaug moved on at a slow pace to his room. Opening the door he placed the bowl with in and heard a bit of sniffing from a corner. In the darkness of the room came the aleen Halc and took the bowl and retreated to the darkness of his room. Turning he made his way back to the kitchen.

Going back to the kitchen he looks down at the two hands an starts to clean them properly. Gently with a bit of spice and sauce he started after cutting the tendons of the finger so they would not curl due to the heat. He had cooked hands before so this was nothing new. The air of the dish grew warm due to the spice heat level yet was off set by a sweet syrup with a blue crystal herb that tasted of ginger and cinnamon. Some one came up to him and asked what he was cooking he opened the lid and showed them. Their reaction of one of horror at the sight of the gore. Finishing the dish with a bed of a rice like grain. Setting on the side was a half serving of darkened rye and a heavily infused rum pudding.

Covering the dish he moved to where the Warlord would be waiting, her room. Calming his signature in the force he came to the door he knocked on the door and waited to be called in with the requested meal.

@Ryras Nur

 

[The Doctor]

It all happened so fast, her mind barely had time to register the pain before it was gone, replaced with nothing. The Doctor saw her hands fall to the fall, purple blood spewing onto the ground, but as if in a distant dream, barely reacted to this unusual site. Instead, she merely looked at the bloody and burned stumps with a curious expression on her face...or, at least, she thought she was. It wasn't until a few seconds or so later, when her lungs gave out, that she realized she had been screaming, screaming so hard that her brain shook in it's chamber. Her eyes darted between the hands and the stumps, widening each time in pure horror as the reality began to cement in her mind, her chest seizing on cue. Everything tensed and loosened, to the point of spasming, The Doctor couldn't scream anymore, simply kneel there, her eyes red raw and her face frozen in an agonizing howl.

It got even worse when she burrowed into her head, the Dark Side scratching and clawing it's way into her thoughts with all the subtlety of a hammer. She heard that voice speak, it's tones and inflections searing into her brain with each syllable. Her vision seemed to blur and her senses dulled, the world regressing to approximately two feet, she felt trapped and alone and so horribly afraid. All the Warlord did was take her hands with her, their chance to be saved swiftly leaving as they hovered away to be cooked and eaten. Malthazar didn't help anything at all, he only made the pain burn brighter with each action, the balm igniting her stumps in a white-hot furnace that could've fueled a hundred star destroyers.

In time, the pain slowly began to fade, along with her mind, and her consciousness, everything was starting to go black. She fell against Malthazar as her eyes rolled back into their skull, the world no longer registering in Aleera's brain. She didn't bother that she was losing everything, you needed to be sane for that, and her sanity had just been destroyed in one burning stroke...

/EXIT THREAD

 

[Solari Valek]

Poot? What a strange moniker. Poot. Like the sound of flatulence. It seemed fitting, considering the smell, like burnt hair and fermented sisofish and tauntaun oil in a baby Hutt's swaddling.

Poot didn't stop to chat, and I didn't bother calling after him. He continued on around the corner, and I became aware of a dark presence just 'round the bend, an entity of ferocious, boundless power. My knees buckled, my heart began to race -

And then the moment past, and Poot was coming back around the corner, waddling like a little bird creature, sweat prints left with each step. His lidless eye stared at me, and I focused on it to center myself. The smell was more pungent when he was closer; he was probably secreting it in his sweat. Maybe it was a sex thing? Perhaps others of his kind were attracted to atrocious stench.

I twisted the Force subtly about myself, and his stench faded to more "decaying corpse" odor than "decaying corpse dipped in poodoo and then set on fire."

Poot (@Clayton) was ugly, like something a sarlacc had coughed up. But I rather liked ugly. He sort of looked like a fat human's thumb with stubby arms and legs. Sweat pooled on the floor at his feet, spreading slowly outward. "I am Solari, my adorable little friend," I told the obviously distracted Poot. His eye was looking at me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. What was he thinking about? What had he seen? "What happened? What did you see?"

The shistavin I had seen earlier came walking down the hall. I stepped around him and walked down the corridor to peer around the corner. Malthazar was tending to a strange, handless woman, and... was that Nadela? (@The Captain) She lay crumpled in a corner, broken and battered. She gurgled wetly, blood running down her chin in red rivulets. Fekking hell.

I walked passed Malthazar to stand over Nadela's beaten body. We weren't friends, hardly even acquaintances, but I respected her, and to be so weak, so vulnerable... how it must've rankled her pride. The thought made me smile, a vicious grin that crept slowly from ear to ear.

I knelt beside her. "Don't fret, Nadela. I will find someone to put you back together."

 

[Darth Malos]

.

He thought he was helping the Docotr--the cream technically was supposed to--so he continued applying it, unaware of the pain it was causing. Then, the Shistavin handed him her hands, and Malthazar was forced to pick them up, holding the limbs with an empty look on his face.

"No, the Warlord asked that you..." he had to take a breather there, "...cook these and bring the meal to her room. Please, do not make this day harder than it has to be." He gave Nasaug the hands back.

Malthazar turned back to the Doctor, opening his mouth to speak, only to have her collapse on him. He caught her, cursing under his breath. A lot of things had happened at once, and despite the Warlord's departure, the train did not seem to be stopping. The Templar lifted the Doctor up as though she had passed out on the battlefield, resting her on the back of his neck as she lay on his shoulders. This entire situation felt rather strange, but he had begun disassociating the moment he held the Doctor's severed hands.

He gently lowered her onto a bed in one of the guest rooms and left, aware that his job was not yet done. The Master walked with purpose through the temple's corridor, his cape billowing behind him. At least he still had his dignity, or so he hoped.

By the time he returned, the Shistavin had left, but Nadela was still laying there, grunting every once in a while. At least she was still alive. Malthazar lifted her (@The Captain) up as well, struggling a bit with the added weight of the armor, nodding to Solari (@C.X. Jenious) in greeting.

"A wonderful day, is it not, Solari?" he asked, fully aware that this day was anything but wonderful. He'd wait for the Echani to reply, then turn and carry Nadela to the room next to the Doctor's so that she may rest.

His job done, he took a deep breath and went back to the entrance. He went the way Nasaug had gone, eventually running into the Shistavin and...what exactly was that thing? It was dripping with sweat and smelled like rotten eggs and marshmallows. Its eye peered around the room curiously, but Malthazar could not help but find it endearing.

"Err...hello?" he asked, his question directed at the one eyed creature (@Clayton).

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

Feeling had returned to Nadela, at least feelings other than pain. She became acutely aware of a piercing, feminine scream that she had almost mistaken for the ringing in her ears. But this was something, someone else, and with a effort that bordered on agonizing she craned her head toward the source. Her vision had not yet returned, so she could not locate the source of the piercing shriek, merely tilt her head in its general direction with a strained wheeze. It sounded so familiar to her, but she could not muster enough of her mental faculties to place the source. The blur of her sight had now faded into darkness, but even through this shadow she could make out a female voice speaking to her. This one was not the same as the other woman, the screamer, but it was familiar nonetheless, and it was the last thing she heard before she briefly slipped into unconsciousness.

When consciousness came back to her, or perhaps more accurately she fought her way back to consciousness, as her more of her faculties had returned to her. She was lying on a bed, that was clear now., given the press of fabric against her back. Nothing had been done to rejoint her limbs or heal her fractures, nor stop the blood dripping from the back of her head and the corners of her mouth. With a titanic effort, Nadela moved her tongue through her mouth, tasting the metallic flavor of her own blood and feeling the new, scattered gaps in her smile. She was in pain, yes, but she had been more heavily concussed during that terrible initial shock, so now all that she felt was a blunt, throbbing, full-body ache. She tried to open her eyes to alleviate the darkness she was living in, but as she focused her mind on opening her eyes she came to a horrifying realization; they were already open. She saw nothing before her, only a vast, empty, benighted expanse of utter, impenetrable blackness. She was blind.

"...help..."

 

[Solari Valek]

Malthazar gathered Nadela in his arms and carefully positioned her across his broad shoulders. When he spoke, the sarcasm in his voice was like a knife. The newly minted master kept a tight rein on his emotions, but I knew enough about beings to realize that he was probably furious. I certainly would be. He and his had just been shamed and humiliated by own of our great and terrible leaders. A man like Malthazar would never forget such a slight.

It only made me feel more validated for joining Cyzyn's machinations.

Nadela was gone, but her blood remained, slowly drying pools of dark crimson. I pressed my hand into the nearest pool of blood almost reverently, and scampered off after Malthazar to see where he had taken her, before I ventured off to find a medbay. This was my first visit to the temple, admittedly, and I hadn't the slightest clue where anything was, but I was learning. Slowly, quietly, I was learning. With every twist and turn, my mental map of the temple grew more detailed. Eventually, I found our vaunted medical facilities. They were bare bones, manned by various droids. The accommodations were few, but there were kolto tanks and gravgurneys and all sorts of scanners and holographic displays.

I approached one of the droids and held up my bloody palm for scanning. "Prepare one of the tanks with a concentration for this specie and blood type."

The droid - silent and dutiful - used the hemographing tech on his bio scanner to analyse the blood and waddled off to prepare a kolto tank. I requisitioned one of the gurneys, pushing it ahead of me as I walked. I was silent as a stalking panther in a den of hyperspace beasts. My master had been weak, but the warlords were as gods unto themselves. Even a panther had to cautious in a jungle of demons.

On my way back to the hall, I grabbed a glass of water, and noticed Malthazar and Poot (@Clayton) speaking in an alcove. They were a study in marked differences, to see the too of them standing together. I nodded at them both and made my way into Nadela's room. (@The Captain)

She was awake when I found her. Probably thirsty too. I studied her for a moment, savoring her weakness... and then I walked over and handed her the glass, and if she could not drink it, I would humble myself to assist with that as well. She would hate it, I was sure, and that just sweetened my satisfaction.

I had cared for people far more injured than Nadela and nursed them painfully back to health. With kolto, Nadela's return to form wouldn't be so painfully. Her scars would remain, though. And there was nothing to be done for her eyes. But bruises and broken bones? Those, thankfully, could be mended. "I've prepared a kolto tank for you," I said once she finished drinking. I leaned closer. "Our lady really fekked you up, didn't she?"

 

[Andraste]

As was the case with the warlord, there was another powerful presence that arrived at the temple entrance. The very air seemed to chill as the figure strode forth, small in stature but commanding a sense of authority nonetheless. It was already clear that the figure wasn’t pleased, anger roiling underneath the surface. She sensed pain and anguish in the area, in the halls of her temple. She had defeated Leviticus in single combat to win it over, and it was hers to command now.

Alais walked with purpose through the corridor, spotting a few familiar figures up ahead. She recognized Malthazar (@The Matt ) and the little monster known as Poot (@Clayton ). Having been around enough abominations, Poot did not disgust her. He had performed tremendously well on Telos, and his merit spoke volumes above his appearance or smells ever would. She came to a pause before them, “What is going on here?” She spoke sternly, though it was clear the anger was not directed at them.

She paused only for a moment before she kept walking again, striding around the perimeters towards the guest rooms. A peek inside revealed injured Exiles, people that could be able and ready to battle. Instead they were mutilated and attacked by fellow Exiles. Alais leaned slightly into Nadela’s (@The Captain) room, sensing the excruciating pain she was in. She closed her eyes, applying her powerful energies to draw from her own wounds from her fight with Leviticus. She bled her own wounds to ease the pain Nadela felt, draining herself slightly to stabilize her so she could breathe properly. Alais stopped at the next room and did the same to The Doctor (@TheBrokenMadMan), draining her own injuries to close up the stumps just enough to stop being excruciating.

Alais’ own previously burned arm now bright red and tender once more and a few of her injuries bleeding, Alais finally spun on her heels and made her way towards where she sensed the Warlord. Though not a Warlord herself, there were few that wouldn’t have heard of her. Ryras would know about Alais having killed a councilor and leading the attack on Devaron. She would also know that Alais was the true master of this temple.

She walked in till she stopped several meters away from the Cathar, “We need every able body available and prepared for battle. I will not have you waltz into my temple and harm others on my watch. What kind of example are you setting?” Venom dripped from her tone. Alais was no lowly apprentice, and she equally matched Ryras in strength, if not more, and the Cathar would know this fact well. As she spoke, she drew the Force to herself, prepared to have herself another fight if the Cathar was truly foolish enough to give into impulses while being surrounded.

 

[Darth Malos]

.

Another presence appeared outside the temple, and Malthazar felt a pang in his chest, although it quickly released and was replaced by the warmth that is relief. Alais was here.

"I am sorry, my delightful friend, but it seems as though some pressing matters have come to light. Mind if I take a rain check? I would love for us to meet another day," he said, turning to Poot with an amicable, almost compassionate expression. He did not know why he was so attached to the blob, but the little creature was so endearing in its repulsiveness that the Templar could not help but feel that way.

He waved toward the creature before turning and walking down the corridor, only to run into Alais. "The Doctor stumbled into the Temple, under the influence, and caused a small ruckus," he explained. "Warlord Ryras Nur appeared and cut her hands off." The last sentence was said with an air of disgust, toward the Cathar. Malthazar's displeasure was obvious in his words, although Alais most likely had felt his anger.

As she turned to leave, the Templar followed, aware that whatever it was that she was doing must be important. Besides, he had a small hunch as to her destination.

He stood by her side as she healed the Doctor back to health, a look of gratitude on his face. He stopped Alais as they were on the way to the Warlord's chambers, gently grazing her shoulder to get her attention.

"Err...I just wanted to say that no matter what happens, you can count on my unflinching loyalty. Truly, I am grateful for all that you have done, both for me, and for the Exiles as a whole," he said sincerely. "We could not count on a better leader."

He was not used to this, to feeling anything besides discontent. Since becoming an Exile, Malthazar's life had opened up again. First he felt friendship, then camaraderie, then bloodlust, then loyalty, then...love? His feelings about the Doctor were still confusing to the Master, but he knew they were strong. And the loyalty he felt for Alais truly was unflinching. The Templar would put his hands into a fire if she asked him to, and it seemed as though he would be able to prove that soon enough.

The two entered the chambers a few moments later, Alais leading the way, with the Tempar right on her heel, his cloak billowing behind him. He could feel Alais gather the Force around her, and did likewise, fully aware that getting caught by surprise by the Cathar would be less than ideal. He did not intend to make the first move, and this was clear, but he needed to be prepared for when someone did, even if it did not happen.

The tension in the room grew thicker as Alais spoke, and Malthazar eyed the Warlord with the same poker face he had held when he was forced to do nothing but kneel before her. The memory still fresh in his mind, it spurred the dark side, revving it up as it gathered around him, its tendrils wrapping the Exile. Adrenaline kicked up again, coursing through his veins with a newfound emotion: a lust for vengeance.

He stood next to Alais, his posture straight, his broad shoulders giving him an air of power, which he seemed to be radiating now. His fingers twitched, his muscles already anticipating action.

So it begins, a thought flew by in his mind. With a deep, steady breath, he prepared for the Warlord's response.

@Sreeya

 

[Cyzyn-Itza-Rus Xho'thal]

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The kitchen was warmer than the rest of the rooms in the temple. The heating from stove tops and overns kept it hot. Industrial fans still could not cool it. The cold blooded exile moved through the droids that cooked until he saw a Shistavanen enter the kitchen. As the only other living organic life form Cyzyn-Itza-Rus took notice. From where he stood he could smell the stench of fresh blood emanating from him.

He produced the source of the smell which were surprisingly two hands. This caused the Tiss'shar to raise a crested eyebrow in curiousity. Standing silently he watched the wolfman prepare the hands as a meal. The way he did it only increased Cyzyn-Itza-Rus's hunger. As he watched he grabbed a slab of meat from one of the hanging racks. Without any ceremony he bit into the meaty flesh, his blue eyes enjoying the show before him. The meal he was having was raw, simple, and simply nutritious.

Finishing the meat he threw the bone onto a burning pan filled with oil. The splash made the flames beneath it reach up and around, filling the pan with flames. This was intentional as Cyzyn-Itza-Rus did not just let his DNA lay around anywhere, even in a Jedi Exile temple. It continued for several seconds, burning away any possible saliva he had left on the bone before service droids came to extinguish the ephemeral flames.

The wolfman had already left, his dish now ready and returned from whence he came. The reptilian Jedi Exile was tempted to follow after him out of curiousity but chose to do otherwise. Exiting the culinary room he walked until he found an empty room. It was spartan, with little else other than mats indicating it was meant for either meditation or sparing. Moving deeper into the space he found himself in the center. Sitting onto his knees he drew his mentor's bisector design lightsaber and placed it on the floor in front of him. He closed his blue eyes and began meditating.

 

[The Doctor]

Floating...nothing, no scenery or environments, just...floating.

It felt freeing, just The Doctor and the endless void, free from want, or fear, or gravity, even free from anxiety. Weirdly enough, it would've been a Jedi's paradise, no negativity, just a sense of serenity that permeated the echoing depths of the dream world, holding up your body like transparent cushions that just absorbed all that tension and stress. She could've stayed here forever, just relaxing into them, a good stretch here and there, like she was laying in bed and just able to lay in forever...but she couldn't could she?

She remembered what had happened, but it all seemed so distant, far away and inconsequential. She still had her hands here, wiggling her fingers and flexing happily at the thought. It was truly strange how you couldn't appreciate anything, not truly, until it was gone. Why couldn't she just stay here with her thoughts, it's not like Malthazar would let her die, he would take care of her...right? A whisper caught The Doctor's ear, a sudden plea in the distance that felt strangely alluring, almost as if she reocognized it. She started to swim, her form weightless but still somehow able to pull at this void to go forward, slowly but surely. As she swam through her mind's eye, she could feel the pain and the hatred and the fear slowly return, and she halted, starting to stare into the distance. Did she really want to do this? That kind of pain wasn't something you came back from, it would be hell on earth if she were to go back...but then she just had to hear her plead...

...help...

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, her entire body contorting and twisting into an unnatural arch as she inhaled deeply. She began to scream again, this one stronger than anything she had ever yelled before, but this wasn't pain. In fact, the pain was almost totally subdued, replaced with a warm tingling sensation. Instead she felt anger, and worry, all restraint gone as she screamed in her mind an through the Force, making the temple shake as impulse took over.

"NADELA!!!"

She flung herself off her bed, smacking on the floor face first. She had intended to catch herself, but she had forgotten the current condition of her body, the stumps taking the brunt of the impact. She was unaffected though, adrenaline and The Dark Side coursing through her veins and heightening every single pore to super sensitivity. She was only concerned for one thing right now,and that was her friend. Her legs were useless, shaking and weak, so in her haste, her legs melted and became a writhing mass of green and squid-like tentacles that slid and slapped across the floor, speeding her down the corridors as her form began to degrade.

When she reached the Med Bay, her face had devolved into a chalk white pallete, blackened veins encroaching on all sides of her face. Gone were the brunette hair and chocolate eyes, replaced instead by black, soulless coronas with blazing yellow irises, and charcoal black hair that looked as if it had been thrown through a 4 alarm fire. "Nadela!! Where is she!?" She demanded harshly, her voice distorted and reverbed as the vocal chords erratically began to shift. She greater resembled an Exile Abomination now, her mind's anger and pain and narrow desire to protect Nadela hijacking her shapeshifting abilities to create a monster.

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

Perhaps Nadela should have thought through her cry for help. Relief had come to her in the soothing form of some Dark power, a syphon of strength and life that healed her wounds and relocated her limbs. It wasn't a painless process by any means, but it stabilized her and saved her from death. But her newfound ability to think without the restricting pain of her previous impact meant that she could fully grasp what was going on around her. The first thing she became aware of was a profound and powerful darkness, the kind created by an Exile of considerable power. It wasn't Ryras, that was clear, this was someone else, someone familiar. Alais was standing over her bed, or at least she had been a moment ago. The Exile Mistress had...healed her? She barely knew Alais, hell she'd stood closer to Leviticus during her takeover of the Prakith Temple. And yet, she had healed her. This was one half of a quid pro quo, she knew that for a fact. Alais was going to lord this over her for every favor, service, and embarrassment she could muster.

Speaking of embarrassment, Solari was here, offering a glass of water, a dip in a kolto tank, and a snide remark. She would have told her to go kriff herself with that kolto tank under normal circumstances, but at this point she was willing to swallow what was left of her pride for a sip of water. She had been halfway through the glass when the sound of the Doctor screaming tore through the temple. She was sure it was the Dcotor's voice, she could recognize it anywhere, but it was strained and distorted in some way that she could not identify. Her presence in the Force had changed as well, that dark aura of malice was now wildly flailing and lashing through the Force. Something was horribly wrong, and Nadela had no clue what it was.

 

[Vin]

Vin was surprised by the architectural proficiency of the exiles. First Alphonse with his little hidey hole, and now Alais and the Levi guy with this temple. She found it hard to stack up two cards to make a tent of cards, and here were all these people putting her in her place. Not that putting her in her place was a difficult thing to do, you just had to leave her to her own purposes and she'd ultimately trip her way there. Still, this temple was impressive, she had to give the exiles that.

She hadn't known about Telos, or all the other things the warlords had been up to recently. but this she had been able to catch live. She had been busy trying to pull apart Saeros's lightsaber and get the crystal out of it to finally build a lightsaber of her own when she'd heard the commotion. By the time she had followed it to its source everything was already done. Some asking around had left her with something that sounded like something right out of Space Vikings, arms lost, skulls crushed, and oddly enough a cake.

She had been disappointed at having missed the warlord, oblivious as always to the fact that she was still at the temple. But then she had sensed a familiar presence, Alais (@Sreeya). But before she could track her down, hse was distracted by another curiosity, the weird little creature they called Poot (@Clayton). Standing just outside the doorway to the chamber he was in, she openly stared at him, marveling at not just his hideousness, but also his unbelievable stench. What was he??

But she didn't have to waste a lot of time on it as she noticed Alais walking by. She could sense her anger, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that Alais had noticed the aftermath of the warlord's rageout. And it was a good thing, because Vin was about as far from a rocket scientist as humanly possible for anyone to be.

She followed after Alais, reaching what must be the warlord's room just as Alais was scolding her. She sensed the tension in the room, and sensing where this was headed, drew on the Force as well, ready to help in whatever little way she could. Maybe she'd finally be able to see Alais in action and not be on the other side.

 

[Kano Taes]

It was not the first time Kano stepped in Prakith, however, it was the first time he got so close to the cathedral, and what he saw was not what he expected, after roaming aroud the cathedral. He found some familiar faces, the Doctor and Nadela, who were badly hurt at the moment, he didn't know much about The Doctor, only knowing her because of the exile meeting that they had at Mustafar, but Nadela, it was strange to see her like that, while they didn't like each other and couldn't see eye, the Kaleesh abomination respected her as a capable warrior, Kano wondered how much did whatever happen to her wound her pride. However, what caught his attention, was that Alais was healing them, which made Kano smile, she knew how to treat her allies, which was yet another reason to fight alongside her.

Kano made it just in time to hear Malthazar's explanation about what happened in there, and hearing about it...made his blood boil, how could someone that was supposed to be a leader, wound two of the most capable warriors in the order so bad just because they provoked an small annoyance? It was a waste of good soldiers. Kano looked at Alais, who would have most certainly noticed him already "Mind if I join you, Alais? I don't want Ryras has to say about this" He said, smiling, he hoped it would end like he wanted it to end, with the bloody Cathar in worse shape that the two she wounded, but that was not the only reason why the Kaleesh abomination wanted to join her, Kano noticed her wounds, she had another fight not much before, while Kano didn't doubt that Alais was still a powerful exile even wounded, she was going to confront an exile warlord now, and since she was not at hundred percent at the moment, some extra help would not hurt, after all, Kano would follow her to meet the Cathar, would she accept his help.

 

[Halc Griemer]

The darkness of the room gave him solus and protection from the Exiles that roamed the hallways outside. The aleen was being awashed with different force signatures and power levels, which made the battle within that much harder to stabilize. Nasuag was helping both sides of Halc's persona to deal with the trouble and grow stronger to achieve balance in their life. A spike in force power and emotion ragged up the hallway toward Halc. The darkness of Halc grabbed hold of the darkness and wanted to join in the terror that was filling the hallway. Yet the light side of himself wanted nothing to do with it but run. Running was what Halc had always did to deal with the problem but Nasuag had given them a goal to work toward. Besides food was on the way he could smell it.

The door to the room opened and the massive form of Nasuag filled the door way. Halc came to the door and took the large bowl from his hands. Moving back into the shadows he retreated to eat the wonderful smelling food. The bowl had a bit of broth in the bottom and Halc drank it greedily. Hearing more noise and the gathering of more force users Halc's curiosity was peaked by what was going on. Going to the door he stepped near it and tilted his head to the right. The handle giggled by the force use from Halc, yet it didn't open due to being locked. With his head listing to the left the componets within the lock clicked and clanked. With a gentle thud the door popped open. Waving his hand the door swung open stepping out of the door he slowly woddled down the hallway.

As he walked down the hall he walked past a familiar face @Poot nodding with his eyes glowing two different color of power. Looking back down the hall he soon found Nasuag standing there with a tray in his hand. It smelled wonderful putting his left hand upon Nasuag's leg he looked up at him and smiled. Turning to the four exile who were talking very loudly Halc asked Nasuag....

Who daa Boss Nas?

 

[Solari Valek]

I don't think anyone had expected Alais Drast to arrive. Unless...had something happened to Leviticus? I had heard the two of them didn't exactly see eye to eye. Had they resolved their differences, or had she ground him beneath her boot like a pest? The sands are shifting beneath our very feat.

Everything was changing; the old regime was being challenged, new champions were taking charge. It was invigorating to witness, but still I was wary. Even a monster like me knew that our order, however loosely organized, could be lost altogether if we imploded completely. Alais' power was easily a match for Ryras', but unlike the Warlord, Alais didn't stand alone. I sensed Malthazar with her, and others of comparable strength. I was anxious, I admit, perhaps even tense - did Ryras have any allies in the temple? A fight between them could potentially bring the temple down around us.

As Nadela was lowering herself into the tank a thing came bursting into the room; it's lower half was a mess of squirming green tentacles that almost seemed to have a mind of their own, some flailing about wildly, others sniffing around almost hungrily. It's upper half was feminine enough, with wild, brittle hair that looked burnt and her skin was milk white and heavily veined. It was missing its hands...

And its eyes were a blazing yellow like sun fire, and in them I saw only rage and anguish. Madness. I knew what madness looked like - I had seen it in the mirror often enough. Was this the woman from earlier? Was she some sort of shapeshifter? Wait... no! Surely this isn't...

I narrowed my focus from the beings gathering to confront the Warlord to the being in front me, for it was easily the more pertinent. It demanded to see Nadela. I was no fool; I immediately backed out of its line of sight so that it could see the aforementioned woman, safe, if heavily injured. And, not being a fool, I prepared myself for a possible fight, slowly snaking a hand to palm one of the lightsabers sheathed at my back.

"Nadela is just fine," I said. "See? Look, she's right there."

 

[Ryras Nur]

Ryras enjoyed her snack (@Foxfire), it was prepared wonderfully as she picked a piece of flesh from in between her teeth. The bones of the hands lied in the pan as she pushed it aside, leaning back in the chair as it creaked against her weight. She felt her thoughts drift as her mind pondered if she may have overreacted. They were just plebeians making a ruckas, but then again, this temple was sacred, it wasn't a place for party Though her yellow eyes narrowed, but widened as she felt another presence, it was strong like the Warlords, but Ryras was not expecting anyone to arrive at the temple.

A soft growl rumbled in her throat as she rose from her seat and exited her personal chambers. She sensed the anger and an eagerness and it occurred to the feline that there could only be one other presence who could threaten them in the Force as such: Alais. Ryras was not in the mood for this little upstart and was quickly agitated too that she gained a posse with her.

Her words were cute...was the term that came to the Warlord's mind as she demanded to know what the purpose of this action was while defending their need for more abled bodies. Her fingers flexed into fists before she relaxed them; as much as she wanted to break the girl's pretty face, right now wouldn't be the time to do it as her yellows followed the faces of Alais group before setting back on the princess herself.

"Abled body for battle?" the cathar hissed, "I'm sure they failed to tell you the part about how they waltz inside with cake and reeked of booze, so tell me, that sound like they're abled bodied and ready for battle, Master Drast."

@Sreeya

 

[Andraste]

Alais sensed others arriving next to her as she gazed at Ryras. She could sense the rage that whirled within Malthazar next to her. She also sensed a familiar presence near her, and it was one she would recognize anywhere. Vin. Alais couldn’t turn her back on the warlord to face her, but she knew the girl was there. When Kano had approached her, she simply gave him a nod in agreement. She was unconcerned about her wounds which were bleeding again, her focus on the problem at hand.

Though she gathered the Force to herself, she noticed that Ryras chose to speak instead of lashing out. As a result, Alais relaxed slightly, eyeing the Cathar carefully. She continued to feel the spike of rage in Malthazar and reached a hand over to place on his shoulder to silently urge him to stand down for the moment. Her gaze never left that of Ryras, “Whatever state they were in, they are in far worse condition now than they ever were before.”

Alais spoke calmly, the impulsive rage beginning to subside. She took a few steps closer to Ryras, looking her in the eye, “We can’t afford to keep fighting amongst ourselves. The Jedi have full confidence that we can’t ever strike back because we are disorganized and can’t operate as a single entity. Impulsively harming your own brethren simply proves them right,” She gestured to those that stood by her, “Ruling by fear only perpetuates the disarray that plagues the Exiles. Every single Exile plays a role – no matter how big, no matter how small. It seems you have lost sight of where even you began your journey to get where you are today.”

She spoke calmly, yet firmly. It was clear that Alais wouldn’t back down. Whatever Ryras threw at her, whether it be more words or a fight, she would be prepared, “If you want us to stop being a fractured people, we need to work together, Warlord Nur. The true enemy is not in here, but out there.”

 

[Darth Malos]

.

Malthazar eyed the Warlord, a heat overcoming him. He was angry, but his loyalty to Alais came first, and he refused to attack until she did. Still, that did not prevent him from shooting Ryras a cold, hard look. He stared at her like that, his features contorted into a mild scowl. He did not want to flat-out glare at her, considering her power, but a look toward him would be enough for her to know his displeasure.

The Templar stood with his hands at his sides, his heart pounding. The Warlord's words angered him, his teeth subtly clenching as he tried to stay silent. Should the circumstances had been different, he would not have hesitated to attack, but this was not the time, nor place, for operating as he wanted. As Alais began speaking, he could feel himself calming down, although that lust for vengeance remained. He felt Alais' hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed a bit. Truthfully, he had not made physical contact (out of combat, that is) with anyone in months, perhaps years, and it soothed him subconsciously as well.

He did not speak, fully aware that he was not involved in this discussion, despite his current position. Master or not, this was between Alais and Nur. He was simply there to provide back-up and support Alais' argument, should he need to.

As the newcomers arrived, he kept looking at the Warlord, choosing not to greet anyone yet, at least until the conversation was over. No one knew what could happen, even if it seemed to be calming down. For all he knew, Nur could be trying to get them to lower their guard so that she may take them out in one swift strike.

The Exile breathed slowly, not allowing his temper to get the better of him.

 

[Ryras Nur]

The Cathar warlord could feel the anger radiate off Malthazar and internally she grinned, her eyes falling on him only briefly before returning to Alais as she spoke. Surprised would be the best description the Cathar thought even thought it didn't show publicly, as Alais turned to her words and there was a growl of annoyance that emitted from the back of her throat. She was not one who liked to be lectured to, especially things she already knew and especially things that reminded her of the diplomacy of the Jedi. Disgust filled the the Warlord.

What she really wanted to say to Alais was It really wasn't much of a fight... but instead held her tongue. "What do you know about ruling, Alais?" she snarled, "In your naivety did you forget who we are? If you want compassion, sympathy and equality, then go back to the Jedi." she said sternly pointing to the door.

"My sight has not deterred. You are young, you got something to prove, so let me give you some advice: if you believe everyone serves a purpose, use the weak as fodder." Ryras hissed, her words weighted with the lack of desire to have to explain herself. Taking a step closer to Alais, the dark side clawed through the feline, "There is no room for imbeciles, only the strong will rise."

The Warlord's golden eyes narrowed as she looked down at the woman, waiting for a response

@Sreeya