A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
The shuttle containing the two fugitives and the beroya reached the planet's orbit unmolested- the carnage left in their wake ensured they remained a low priority. Between the slaughter at the prison and the sudden outbreak of the plague among Kiffex's population, not even a blastboat followed them up into the ebony canopy.
The Marauder was waiting with an open hangar for them. Turbolasers bristled along its hull, powered up and searching for targets that simply weren't there. From his perch behind the Duros' shoulder, Faust barked a laugh at the sight. His reavers ached for battle- a scarce commodity since the Cataclysm. The galaxy was so caught up in licking its wounds that there was no one left to fight.
The prophet was still chuckling as they descended the ramp. Harlen and Janse were waiting for them, the stark contrast between the two men creating an odd juxtaposition neither seemed to notice. Where Harlen was huge, hulking, and stone-faced, Janse was a lithe, slouching ghost, his features unconcerned and his hand lazily stroking the hilt of the longsword on his hip.
Faust raised his hand before either could speak. "Make for the edge of the gravity well immediately, and inform me when we are ready to make the jump to hyperspace. I need to have words with my new guests." He ignored the dumbfounded expressions on his lieutenants' faces, and turned to Rilk and Alkor. "Men turned to animals, savaging one another with no distinction between friend and foe. This...sickness must be reported to the Manda'lor, and you must go." The priest turned his gaze to the Dark Jedi. "When we meet again, Demagolka, remember what Kad moved me to do for you."
"I deal in death and thralls, aruetti. Which is it you seek?"
"I pay my debts," Alkor replied. Of all the lessons learned during his tenure as a killer, the importance of making good on promises was one of the most dire. People tended to get bent out of shape about a lack of integrity, and worse, they liked to put prices on the heads of those who displayed the trait. He was less worried about the inherent danger, and more preoccupied with the annoyance it would cause.
"Scuse me," the Duels garbled as he slouched forward. "I- I'm not feeling so- urp!" he reached up to clutch his face as vomit spewed out from his lips. When it splashed across the floor, it was predominantly blood. "What in the Force-" he managed to rasp.
Alkor wasted no time lifting a hand and pushing the man back against a wall. He held him there despite protest, a look of concentration and panic in his gaze. "You're infected," he hissed accusingly.
"No!" the blue alien barked out in terror. "That's not possible! I've avoided every port I could until-"
The Dark Jedi pushed harder, until the pressure against the humanoid caused a crackle and series of pops to reverberate from his spine. "Please," he spoke in a hushed whisper, the air stolen from his lungs. "Please let... me... liv...e..."
He hacked again hoarsely, and more blood cascaded from his lips. Bloodshot red eyes bugged as he bared his teeth and his demeanor shifted from horror to rage. "Let me... go!" he screamed, spittle flying in every direction. Other men on the ship started to maintain distance. "I'll kill you!" he promised, no longer the coward from before. "Rrrrrraaaaaaagh!"
Alkor let out a sigh, then slowly clenched his fist.
The weight on his lungs became tremendous, until finally they collapsed. His heart worked harder until it was unable to receive any air at all, and the blood in his body slowed to a halt. He fell to the floor in a pathetic heap, writhing in agony and gasping for air, and he stared hatefully up at the Corellian exile as he expired.
"I hate to interrupt," a message boomed across the comms in the ship, "but we've just received a transmission from the blockade. It seems they intend to stop and search us."
Alkor looked to Faust pointedly. "Well," he muttered, "I was going to need my own ship anyway."
