Consolidation Echoes on Malachor | Hunt in the Shadow Maw

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: Malachor V – The Rebirth of a Graveworld


Ash still clung to the jagged horizon as black clouds rolled slowly across the skies of Malachor V. The devastation from the recent assault by the Dark Crusade was evident in the shattered cliffs, cratered plains, and collapsed spires of ancient Sith architecture. But now—through the smoke and ruin—a new shape was rising.

The homeworld of the Obsidian Court was awakening.

From the remains of the broken citadels, a vast web of scaffolding and pylons had emerged. Technicians in matte-black armor scurried across gantries, welding energy shielding nodes into place and reinforcing cracked walkways with durasteel plates imported from conquered worlds. Overhead, interceptor droids scanned the skies, forming the early lattice of a new planetary defense grid.

One technician stood at a control hub overlooking the canyon—where a new anti-orbital turret was being assembled by heavy lift-droids.

“Increase the power throughput to the shield relays. I want the outer perimeter to hold against anything short of a fleet bombardment,” he barked into his commlink.

Nearby, sparks showered down from the newly reconstructed monolithic gates of the Obsidian Citadel, where Sith engineers carved new command codes and barrier seals into its obsidian walls. The structure would no longer be merely a fortress. It was becoming a symbol—an unbreakable heart of power for the Sith who remained loyal.

Within the depths of the citadel grounds, the military compound stirred with life. Legions of Obsidian Court soldiers trained with renewed fervor—drills echoing across the red-tinged sands. Rows of armored warriors marched in perfect synchronization, their boots thundering like war drums. Tactical instructors barked out formations while sergeants hurled stun grenades into simulated combat zones.

“Form up! You think the Dark Crusade will give you a second chance?”

“Shield lines—hold that corridor! Maintain pressure!”

To the west, among the ruins of an ancient Sith temple, the Sith Initiates were being forged through torment and discipline. Hooded figures—some no older than adolescents—fought blindfolded on narrow stone bridges over bottomless pits. Others levitated boulders with trembling hands, blood dripping from split knuckles and scorched flesh.

Among them, robed instructors prowled like wolves. One slammed a staff against a pillar.

“Pain is your ally. It teaches. It molds. If you cannot suffer, you cannot rule.”

One initiate collapsed, coughing blood. Another stepped over them and continued, cold and unflinching.

At the apex of the temple, overlooking it all, the crest of the Obsidian Court fluttered in the hot wind—an obsidian blade encircled by a broken halo, now reforged.

Malachor V was not merely recovering.

It was becoming invincible.

 

[Yulvaris]

As this new world and its populace was beaten into a shape befitting the Obsidian Court, a new entity would tear through the atmosphere in a ball of fire. Its frame was enshrouded in flames as it streaked across the skies, until it slowed and the fires were banished from its hull.

The starship looked akin to an orb of shadow, seemingly swallowing whatever light struck against. The sleek, round vessel would descend to grace the landing bay with its presence as it kissed the ground with relative quietness compared to the raucous sounds of the other vessels. It would sit dormant for a time, but the feeling of darkness and uneasiness would emanate from it like heat from a star. It was…an unsettling presence, which only grew more oppressive to those nearby who knew the Force. It would feel cold, and heavy, and suffocating as their life essence were being siphoned through their mouths.

Then, the door opened and he strolled down the walkway. His footfalls were muted, and his obsidian robes enshrouded his frame, with the exception of his mouth and a patch of the green skin covered in black tattoos; and, of course, his piercing crimson eyes whose glow permeated through the shade provided by his hood that covered the upper half of his face.

He would speak to no one, and would walk with purpose as he examined everything. The people in the command hub barking orders. The sparks flying as the engineers welded the heaps of shaped metal together to form the doors, walls, and gates of the new citadel.

However, for where he needed to go, he had to venture deeper. It would be there that he walked past all of the new initiates as they began their training in the dark side. It was a pleasant sight: a very pleasant one indeed. He could feel their anger, hatred, and suffering. He basked in it and drank deeply of it, feeling his heart race and the dark side coil around his frame with pleasure. However, he had to snap himself from his trance, as he ventured on and continued to stare from the walkway overlooking the subjects. He must venture deeper still.

He reached out in the force until he found it: the signature. He followed it all the way down to his destination: the meditation chamber. He awaited the one within to beckon him to enter, knowing that they could sense his presence.

@Marcus Aumont

 

[Sith Master Veraxis]

Setting: Sith Meditation Chamber – Deep beneath the shattered surface of Malachor V, within the tomb-like sanctum where the Force screams in eternal agony.



The chamber was silent, save for the low, mournful hum that echoed through the jagged stone corridors of Malachor V.

Ancient obsidian spires jutted from the blackened ground like broken teeth, remnants of a cataclysmic war long past. This temple—buried in the planet’s cracked and bleeding crust—was no place for peace. It was built for suffering, and the dark side thrived here, thick as poison in the air.

Seated in a meditative trance, Darth Veraxis hovered inches above a circular dais etched with forgotten Sith glyphs. The green glow of corrupted kyber crystals pulsed faintly from the chamber walls, casting twisted shadows that writhed with unnatural life. Veraxis breathed in the darkness. It coiled around him like smoke, feeding his focus.

He did not open his eyes when the presence of Yulvaris finally neared.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Veraxis said lowly, his voice reverberating like a whisper through a crypt. “This world remembers pain. It is etched into its bones. And now, so will you.”

He opened his eyes—burning slits of crimson behind his cowl—and turned slowly toward the young acolyte.

“Kneel.”

He waited until Yulvaris obeyed, then stepped down from the dais, the air trembling faintly with his every movement.

“There are remnants here. Survivors of the Sith Marauders who served the Dark Crusade. Rabid now—scattered and hiding in the caves like the vermin they’ve become. But do not mistake their desperation for weakness.”

He paced before the kneeling figure, the hem of his robe trailing faint streaks of ash across the stone floor.

“They still wield the Force. Twisted, unstable, feral. Too dangerous for hunters. Too unworthy for masters. That makes them perfect for you.”

Veraxis stopped, towering before the acolyte.

“You will descend into the depths. Alone. You will extinguish every last one of them. Not because it is ordered—but because power must be seized, not gifted.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a serpentine hiss.

“Bring me proof. One of their blades, still stained with blood. Or die in the dark with them.”

He straightened once more, returning to the center of the dais as the air thickened with pressure, the very Force seeming to tighten like a fist.

“Go now. Let Malachor judge you.”


Tag; @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

Before he was addressed, his eyes marveled at the room and the assembly of anguish and power in the force gathering throughout it. He studied the glyphs etched into the walls and the obsidian stalagmites jutting from the ground. He made mental notes of things he could incorporate into his own chamber later on.

At Veraxis’ query, he nods.
“Yes, though, it seems to be concentrated greatly here.”
He opens his mouth to speak again, to ask a question, but decides against it.

He acquiesces, and bows his head. As Veraxis approaches, he could feels the force thrumming and quivering, the darkness washing over him like mighty waves with each passing second. It was unnerving, but there was a sense of longing: a yearning for this level of presence and power in the force. He remained silent however, as Veraxis spoke, his brow twitching at the mention of the dark crusaders scurrying like rats in their domain.

He head shifts up slightly, but not enough to where his head was visible beneath the hood.
“Power?”
There was brief hint of eagerness within him.

At his whispered command, Veraxis would see him nod, and whisper back:
“As you wish, father.”

Upon being dismissed, he rose without a sound, and walked away toward the caverns where he was supposed to go. He stared into the abyss, and used the dark side to sense the anger and suffering of those within.

@Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Meditation Chamber – Veraxis’ Perspective

As Yulvaris turned and strode from the meditation chamber, his silhouette vanishing into the choking shadows of Malachor’s catacombs, Darth Veraxis remained motionless atop the obsidian dais, arms folded beneath his cloak.

He did not speak, but his mind stirred.

“He walks into death. And yet he does not flinch.”

A flicker of satisfaction touched Veraxis’ lips, more shadow than smile.

“Let him bleed in the dark. Let him hunt and be hunted. If he returns with the Marauders’ heads, then perhaps—just perhaps—he is worth more than the others who claw at my feet for power they haven’t earned.”

He moved toward a holo-table embedded into the temple floor. Star systems lit up, some claimed, others bleeding red where the Obsidian Court’s influence waned.

“There are greater tasks than purging vermin. Worlds to shatter. Hidden Jedi cells to erase. Civilizations to silence before they awaken. If Yulvaris proves himself in the caves… then the next mission will test not just his blade… but his soul.”

Veraxis closed his eyes.

“Survive, Acolyte. And I will show you the stars.”

---

Scene Shift: The Caves of Malachor – The Sith Marauders’ Hideout

Far below the surface, where light could no longer reach, the ancient caves groaned like the lungs of a dying god.

Once a tomb, now a den.

Here, the remnants of the Sith Marauders lurked—scarred, feral, clinging to life like broken beasts. Their robes were shredded, armor cracked and mismatched, scavenged from the dead. Their lightsabers flickered erratically—unstable and sputtering like dying embers. Yet their hatred… their hunger… burned as brightly as ever.

One of them, a towering brute with a cauterized stump where his left arm had once been, snarled at the others gathered around a dying fire.

“The Obsidian Court hunts us. Sends their lapdogs. Let them come.”

Another Marauder—thinner, eyes sunken and wild with corruption—hissed, clutching a jagged saber-staff.

“They think us broken… but we are what they fear. Unbound. Unchained. The true Sith.”

Whispers echoed from the cave walls—Force phantoms or madness, none could tell. But one thing was certain:

They knew something—or someone—was coming.

And they were ready to kill again.


Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

As he remained in his trance, the dark side whispered information into his senses with each passing second. First, it would be the burning fires of hatred stewing and churning within the cave. Then, it would be a chorus of spiteful and pained whispers that would resonate like music within his ears. Then, a vision:

Far below the surface, where light could no longer reach, the ancient caves groaned like the lungs of a dying god.

Once a tomb, now a den.

Here, the remnants of the Sith Marauders lurked—scarred, feral, clinging to life like broken beasts. Their robes were shredded, armor cracked and mismatched, scavenged from the dead. Their lightsabers flickered erratically—unstable and sputtering like dying embers. Yet their hatred… their hunger… burned as brightly as ever.

One of them, a towering brute with a cauterized stump where his left arm had once been, snarled at the others gathered around a dying fire.

“The Obsidian Court hunts us. Sends their lapdogs. Let them come.”

Another Marauder—thinner, eyes sunken and wild with corruption—hissed, clutching a jagged saber-staff.

“They think us broken… but we are what they fear. Unbound. Unchained. The true Sith.”

Whispers echoed from the cave walls—Force phantoms or madness, none could tell. But one thing was certain:

They knew something—or someone—was coming.

And they were ready to kill again.

“1…2…3…4…approximately four hostiles…”
He curses that he lost the element of surprise, but rather than continue whining, he instead beseeches the dark side to engulf him as he uses Force Clouding; causing the dark side to slowly consume whatever trace of his presence in the force was until there appeared to be nothing at all. He then ventured into the dark cave, armed with his connection to the dark side as his guide, as he silently crept through the caverns, a vibro-dagger gripped tightly in his hand as he skulked in the shadows and behind cover drawing ever nearer slowly toward his prey.

@Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Caves of Malachor – The Sith Marauders Respond


The fire sputtered, casting long shadows against the jagged cavern walls—shadows that twitched and moved like things alive.

The one-armed brute—called Varkas the Shard—sniffed the air, the thick scar tissue over his missing eye twitching. His ruined face twisted into a snarl.

“He’s here.”

Across the chamber, the wiry Marauder with the saber-staff—Karnis the Hollow—turned his head slightly, yellowed eyes narrowing.

“I feel nothing.”

“Exactly,” Varkas rumbled, rising to his feet with a grunt, heavy boot crushing half-charred bone. “He was there… and now he is not.”

The other two Marauders, smaller and cloaked in patchwork armor and soot-stained robes, shifted restlessly, sensing the tension. One of them began to chant—a low, guttural litany in ancient Sith, trying to draw power from the choking dark of the cave. The shadows thickened around them.

“Obsidian whelp…” Karnis muttered, his voice low and sharp, like a serrated blade dragged across stone. “They think to purge us? Acolytes. Pretenders.”

Varkas clenched his right hand, a crude lightsaber hilt barely holding its pieces together sparking in his grip.

“He will come close. Let him.”

“We give him no clean kill. We drown him in the dark.”

A trap was forming.

The chanting Marauder—Sithael the Wretched—suddenly pressed her palm to the cave floor, sending a ripple through the Force. Cracks glowed faintly, revealing an ancient Sith sigil beneath the dust—one that pulsed like a heartbeat, preparing to detonate a pressure shock of raw kinetic energy if Yulvaris stepped within its radius.

Karnis vanished into the deeper shadows along the wall, becoming little more than a wraith. Varkas stood center—bait, brute, and executioner.

“Come then, little hound…” he growled into the dark. “Let’s see if your masters taught you how to die.”

The cave fell still—no footfalls, no breath, only the sound of dripping stone and the pulsing tension of a storm ready to break.


Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

He simply watches them from afar as they teach him their tactics.

Varkas is the Muscle, and by how tightly he is gripping his patchwork lightsaber, he is very proficient at melee combat. He may also be reliant on said blade.

Karnis is the Shadow, responsible for picking off targets using stealth tactics similar to his own. He could be irksome, but he is also the most predictable. After all, they use a similar playbook.

The Shadowmancer and Sithael are evidently the weakest, which is why they cower behind Varkas as their meat shield. They are the priority targets and likely the easiest ones to break their concentration on their spells.

In their folly, they admitted that they could not perceive him aloud - by sense nor the force.
Good: they may know my presence, but they do not know my location.

Using the force at this time would prove unwise: he would have to do without. So, he listens to the only sound available to him of the dripping stone, and times his already silent footsteps with each drop just as extra insurance.

He remembers the previous locations of the three near the fireplace, and, more importantly, the fireplace: the one thing that cannot move nor was extinguished. He easily lobs a smoke bomb high into the air to fall straight down onto the fire and waits the chaos of the small explosion to erupt from it and hopefully startle the sorcerers out of their concentration on their spells. If and when it does, he will be ready to pounce, but at this second, he will watch.

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Caves of Malachor – The Marauders’ Response

The smoke bomb hit the fire with a dull clink—then erupted in a sudden hiss and plume of thick, dark vapor. The flames guttered violently, casting mad shadows as the smoke swallowed the chamber whole.

Sithael shrieked, momentarily losing focus as her vision vanished. The glowing sigils beneath her hand pulsed—and then fizzled out into nothing. Her spell shattered like glass, fragments of Sith energy bleeding into the air as her connection broke.

“He’s here!” she screamed, voice cracked with panic.

“Hold your minds, you worms!” Varkas roared, his voice booming like a seismic charge.

But Yulvaris would quickly find that smoke was not the advantage it seemed.

Karnis moved through it like a wraith.

The moment the fire flared and the smoke burst, he had already leapt to the cave ceiling, clinging with his limbs like an insect, his saber-staff deactivated but clenched in both hands. His yellow eyes scanned below—hunting. He didn’t need to see Yulvaris. He knew how assassins thought.

“You watch. You hesitate. You strike second.”

From above, Karnis let a thin string of black ichor drip from his fingertips—a cursed alchemical compound that would react to movement in the smoke. Where it splashed against stone, it hissed. Once Yulvaris moved, even slightly, the trail would give him away.

Meanwhile, Varkas didn’t wait for clarity. He charged.

With a monstrous roar, he stormed into the smoke, saber igniting in a chaotic crimson flare. His swings were wild but deceptively precise—aimed at where Yulvaris would be if he followed his own logic of striking the sorcerers first.

“I will rip your spine out and feed it to the fire, pup!”

Sithael and the Shadowmancer stumbled back, coughing and disoriented—but they weren’t helpless. The Shadowmancer raised a hand and blindly hurled a pulse of compressed darkness forward, not aimed, but wide enough to slam into any hidden foe within the radius of the fire’s remains. It struck the cavern wall, shaking dust loose from the ceiling, temporarily illuminating figures within the haze.

Just for a second—just one—Yulvaris would feel all eyes tracking his motion.

“There!” Karnis dropped from above, saber igniting mid-fall.

The cave had become a battlefield. There was no more hiding.

The true test had begun.

Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

Everything snowballed into pandemonium as the fireball burst to life.

He could sense the fear in the shadowmancer and sorceress as their refuge of darkness was snatched from them. He could sense the rage and madness of the marauder as their roar echoed through the cave and they slashed their lightsaber around like a wild dog. He could also sense the eagerness of the once elusive assassin as they revealed themselves to strike out at him.

Though he would never vocalize it, he was grateful for the marauder, not having the patience to wait before slashing out and bellowing. Had they done so he might have left forward and been cut into pieces. Since he had not stepped forward, he would also notice something that would look like a thin line permeate through the smoke. He was not quite sure what it was, but it certainly did not come from the cave, and was thick enough to be seen through the smoke. Likely some form of a tracking agent. It would seem that the sorceress is the one who has the weakest grip on their fear, considering how she was the only one to yelp.

Thus he decided to bide his time and wait for another opportunity in the chaos. At least, he would have if not for that accursed shadowmancer. They managed to get a lucky blow in their blindness, and sent a shockwave of darkness that kicked up dust on everything up to the cavern wall. Unfortunately, for an instant, that included him. He cursed, but knew he had to improvise; how convenient therefore that he had a blender very close by.

First, the assassin and the sorceress. He would take advantage of their lack of leverage in the air, and, with one hand, grip them with the force before throwing them toward the blinded sorceress with their still active lightsaber. If the assassin tried to counter by throwing something at him, he would hop backward to evade. Simultaneously, he would target the shadowmancer and the marauder; as he reached out with his other hand and the force to try to yank the blinded shadowmancer toward the still slashing marauder.

Oh what delicious irony this would be: for their own blades to be responsible for killing their own allies. While the group would try to regather themselves in the confusion, he would shake the dust off of himself; then use force speed in a burst to reposition, throwing down a smoke bomb to conceal his trajectory. To further hinder their attempts to locate him he quickly re-assumed his force cloak and analyzed their next move.

Tag: @Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Caves of Malachor – The Marauders Entrapped


Chaos reigned.

Karnis the Hollow had only a heartbeat of realization before the Force wrapped around him like a vice, wrenching him mid-fall. His lightsaber ignited far too late, a single flare of crimson cutting a jagged streak through the darkness before he was hurled like a ragged doll toward Sithael.

Sithael shrieked again—this time not in panic, but agony. Karnis’ blade plunged into her chest as the momentum of the throw forced them both to the ground in a tangle of robes, bone, and hissing energy. The scream echoed through the chamber, followed by a sputtering silence as Sithael’s power went dark.

“You fool!” Karnis spat through bloodied teeth, pushing himself off her limp body as smoke swallowed him once more.

On the other side of the chamber, the Shadowmancer barely had time to recover before the Force gripped him too. His hands flailed, grasping at cursed glyphs in the air—but they shattered like glass as he was ripped from the ground and thrown bodily toward the rampaging brute.

“Varkas—!”

Too late.

Varkas, mid-swing, caught the Shadowmancer with the full arc of his saber. The flash of red lit the cavern like lightning. A bisected body fell at his feet, twitching.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” Varkas bellowed, spinning wildly, eyes bloodshot with fury. His boot slammed down beside the corpse. “You coward! Show yourself!”

The thickened haze answered him.

Then—nothing.

A burst of movement. A hiss of expelled smoke. A flicker gone in a blink.

Yulvaris had vanished once again, a phantom slipping through the veil.

But now they were bloodied.

Karnis dragged himself behind a jagged stone, clutching his ribs, saber disabled. Varkas stood at the center of the carnage—alone now—chest heaving, saber gripped so tightly the hilt groaned.

“Come, acolyte!” he shouted into the dark, his voice cracking with equal parts rage and respect. “You dance well… but your tricks end here!”

“I’ll feel your breath before you strike—I’ll hear your heartbeat before your blade falls!”

He wasn’t wrong. Varkas was primal, yes—but he was born in war, and what remained of his senses burned hotter with each death.

Yulvaris had turned their blades against them. But now the beast stood waiting, still and silent, a juggernaut in the storm

Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

With the masterpiece of pandemonium caused by his hands, he could feel himself growing stronger from the fear, death, and confusion that was wrought. If only it lasted a little bit longer, but he would take what he could get.

Yet again he took some time to analyze the situation. The marauder seems to be very reliant on their instincts and is not as patient or analytical as the assassin; evident from how they immediately slashed out as soon as the smoke bomb burst from the fireplace. Perhaps they do have more keen senses, however, they are easier to confound through irritation.

However, this brings up a new problem: the assassin is still skulking about. This would give him pause to try and irritate the marauder into making a mistake and leaving an opening…If the assassin weren’t injured. He tries to play himself in the assassin‘s shoes: since they are injured, it would be more to their benefit to keep the marauder alive if possible. Yet, if they try to call out to calm them down or communicate a strategy, it will reveal their location. Furthermore, if they leap out to defend the marauder from the impending strike, it will also risk their location being exposed or leave them vulnerable.

So, rather than have his force presence be suppressed, he unleashes it outward to expand like a suffocating cloud. Rather than feeling like he was nowhere, it now felt like he was everywhere and could be anywhere. Then, he took a page from his master’s book, and began testing the resolve of the brute’s mind. If successful, Varkas would begin to see a shadow out of the corner of his eye that disappeared as soon as he looked. Then it would progress to the sand shifting like someone darted past. Then it would sound like taunting whispers and giggling.

If unsuccessful, then he would use Sith Sorcery to create visual and auditory illusions. A footstep there. A trailing cloak here.

All the while, he would continue skulking about in the dark, careful for traps from Karnis and searching for them, while silently creating these illusions within Varkas’ mind. He was ready for Karnis to try and interfere, for he had a plan ready if he did…

Tag: @Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Caves of Malachor – The Mind Unravels

It began as a flicker.

Varkas, his shoulders heaving and saber steaming with blood, twitched his head slightly to the left—his one eye catching the edge of motion. A shadow, there and gone.

He snarled, adjusting his stance.

“Show yourself, coward…”

But then it happened again.

To the right this time—a darting figure vanishing into the gloom. He spun toward it with a feral growl, only to find nothing. Nothing but cold stone and death.

“I see you…” he muttered—but his voice faltered halfway.

The air thickened. The cave walls seemed to pulse, as if breathing. Smoke that once lingered now curled unnaturally, shaping itself into hands reaching, faces sneering, mouths whispering nonsense. The shadows danced without firelight.

Then came the laughter.

Low at first. Playful. Mocking.

He’s behind you, it said in his mind.

No—he’s above.

No—he’s inside.

Varkas swung his blade wildly, striking sparks off the stone. Rage boiled in his blood—but a seed of doubt had begun to root.

His instincts, once sharp, were now oversensitive. Every grain of sand that shifted became a footstep. Every breath of wind was an assassin’s cloak. Sweat trickled down his temple as his snarl turned from anger to unease.

“You think this’ll save you? This trickery?!”

His saber cleaved through nothing—again. And again. Each swing slower, less certain.

Behind a jagged rock, Karnis groaned, gripping his ribs. His head turned just slightly, just enough to see the brute unraveling.

“Stop… swinging, you idiot…” he rasped, too quiet to be heard.

Yulvaris’ illusions escalated.

Now a cloaked figure darted across Varkas’ peripheral vision, vanishing behind a stalagmite.

Then another—no, the same one—ran the other way.

“He’s everywhere.”
“He’s toying with you.”
“Just like the others… you’re next.”

Varkas howled and unleashed a savage Force wave, cracking stone and sending dust raining from the ceiling—but it hit only ghosts and echoes. And Yulvaris? Still hidden. Still watching.

Then came the final push.

The sound of Sithael’s voice—soft, pleading—whispered into his ear:

“You killed me, Varkas…”

The brute froze.

His saber faltered. His mouth opened—but no words came.

He staggered back a step, blinking wildly. For the first time, the rage did not come. Only fear.

He was exposed now. Vulnerable.

And Yulvaris was ready.

Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

Fear.

He took in a deep breath at the fear of Varkas. Seeing the once stalwart brute now becoming less and less stable was intoxicating. He fed like a wild beast on Varkas’ terror in the force, and felt himself grow even more invigorated…and sadistic.

So, he leapt at the chance and aimed a force crush to shatter Varkas’ lightsaber with one hand, and his knees with the other. If successful, he would move in from the blind spot as if aiming for the killing blow; however, this was a test. If Karnis did not interfere, then he would have his wicked way with Varkas; if Karnis did try to interfere and so reveal himself, he would have a vibrodagger ready to launch at Karnis.

Tag: @Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Heart of the Caves – Claws of Lightning, Fangs of Steel

Varkas’ saber shook violently in his grip as the Force constricted around it, sparks leaping from the hilt as Yulvaris’s invisible hand sought to shatter it. At the same time, a second crushing grip twisted toward the brute’s knees—seeking to fold his body like brittle metal.

The Marauder screamed, not in fear—but defiance.

“I DIE STANDING!”

With a final bellow, Varkas surged forward, summoning a last reservoir of brute will. A snap-hiss echoed through the cavern as his flickering, cracked saber re-ignited just long enough to intercept Yulvaris’ approach—slashing in a brutal, upward arc. At the same moment, black and purple Force lightning exploded outward from his body in a wild sphere, repelling shadows, illusions, and flesh alike.

But he was not alone.

From above, where Yulvaris had positioned himself for the kill, came a shriek of focused hatred. Karnis emerged from his perch—a twisted phantom in tattered robes—no longer silent, no longer waiting.


“TRAITOROUS WHELP!” he cried, saberstaff igniting in a vertical red blaze.

Yulvaris had anticipated him. The vibrodagger flew like a silver fang through the darkness—aimed squarely at Karnis’ throat.

But Karnis was already mid-air, twisting mid-flip. The blade grazed his shoulder, carving a deep line of flesh—but not enough to stop him. He landed hard, one end of his saberstaff stabbing downward toward Yulvaris like a crimson spear, the other arcing behind to intercept any retreat.

Then came the lightning.

Sithael, bloodied and half-conscious near the fire, raised her trembling hands. Her lips mouthed an ancient incantation, and arcs of dark side lightning coiled from her fingertips—joining Varkas’ storm—twisting in the air to form a lattice of agony, aimed at Yulvaris’ chest.

The cave had turned against him.

The test was no longer his to control.

Now it was his turn to survive the storm.

Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

His eyes widened when he saw the resolve of Varkas suddenly resurge and his force crush had resulted in failure. CURSES! Worse still, the sorceress has somehow survived?! Then, the burst of force and lightning came careening toward him, much to his dismay. The only thing he had predicted was Karnis who somehow had dodged his vibrodagger throw.

As the sabers careened toward him and the explosion of force came to consume him, his life flashed before his eyes.

He remembered all of his training under Veraxis. The hatred he felt at being at another’s whims and the thought of being too weak to cease it. He thought of how long he studied the dark arts and toiled to gain the power he did now. He thought about how his death would make his life meaningless. He then thought about how meaningless he likely was to the Obsidian Court…but no. NO. He would force them to remember his name!

So, he keeps his momentum moving toward Varkas and waits for both him and Karnis to fall in range, before he looses a terrifying force scream aimed to disorient them and then a explosive force repulse to scatter everything close by in one fearsome burst as a shockwave of force emanates in a bubble like barrier around him. Then, a cracking sound could be heard by the cave walls. Then another. And another. Then the cave would begin to rumble and he began to cackle.

60 seconds…

If everyone was blasted away by his force repulse, then he would aim a force crush with one hand toward the sorceress’ throat to finally silence her as she was thrust away. With his other hand, he would grip Karnis midair again, but would not throw him and instead send a torrent of force lightning at him and keep him in place in the air. But why?

55 seconds…

He would hold out his now free hand toward at Varkas. He stood there waiting and standing so that his peripheral vision would detect both of them: ready.

Tag: @Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Scene: The Caves of Malachor V – Death and Collapse


The cave howled.

The Force Scream tore through the tunnels like a banshee’s shriek, a blade of raw will and fury that slammed into the three Marauders like a crashing wave. Varkas staggered, his saber wavering. Karnis faltered mid-air, his focus fracturing. Sithael, already on her knees, clutched her ears and shrieked.

Then came the Force Repulse.

The air detonated outward from Yulvaris’ body like a sonic bomb. Rock and ash exploded in every direction. Sithael was flung like a ragdoll across the stone—crunch! Her back met a jagged pillar. Her scream was cut short.

Snap.

She would never speak again.

The cave cracked again. Louder.

60 seconds.

Karnis was caught in midair like a puppet on a string. The lightning lanced from Yulvaris’ fingers—violently—arcing around Karnis’ limbs, holding him in place. The assassin thrashed like a crucified wraith, spasming with each current of pain. His saber dropped, forgotten.

He could not even scream.

55 seconds.

Yulvaris’ other hand extended toward Varkas. The Marauder stood firm—bloody, broken, seething—but his eyes betrayed it:

Doubt.

His saber crackled.

And then he charged.

Karnis still hovered in pain, lightning grounding him in torment, but the brute ignored his comrade’s agony. He ran straight through the crumbling ash and dust, roaring:

“I WILL END YOU, WRAITH!”

But the floor cracked beneath him.

50 seconds.

From high above, a large stone slab buckled.

And Karnis—still hanging, still burning—lifted his head just enough to see it falling.


Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

Yulvaris continued pouring every ounce of his hatred into the force lightning with each passing second as the current - and the agony - increased. Much to his mirth, they seemed to drop their saber-staff: this should prove a nice trophy.

Meanwhile, his gaze was steely and his face was set like a flint; as though whatever surge of resolve Varkas had was stolen by him. He was silent, but his stance dared an approach which Varkas seemed happy to oblige. How fortunate it was that the dark side seemed to grant him another opportunity…

50 seconds…

Karnis would then see it, but the pain from the lightning charring their clothes and flesh would continue to muzzle them; as the dark realization became clear: he and Yulvaris remained in place as bait for Varkas to step underneath the falling debris.

Simultaneously, Yulvaris slam his open hand down to perform a Force Push and cause the ground beneath Varkas to bow and cave beneath their feet and hinder or even halt their movement. He would then shoot Force Lightning toward Varkas as he used a burst of Force Speed to dash back from beneath the falling rubble.

45 seconds…

If Varkas still lived and was occupied with the boulder, he would use the force to try and yank the boulder further down upon Varkas to crush him.

Either way, he would continue electrocuting Karnis, and feed off of their agony to try and empower himself in the dark side.

40 seconds…

Tag: @Marcus Aumont

 

[The Obsidian Court]

Caves of Malachor V — The Edge of Destruction


The cave trembled with dark power, stone and shadow cracking under the weight of hatred.

Karnis screamed, though no sound left his mouth — only the rattle of a choked breath through burned lungs. Lightning wracked his body, every joint convulsing as Yulvaris poured the full wrath of the dark side into him. His saberstaff clattered uselessly to the ground below, the light extinguished.

Varkas growled, teeth bared, stumbling forward through the chaos. The towering brute saw Karnis suspended in agony — bait. He saw the flames in Yulvaris’ eyes and recognized the trap far too late.

Then the ground cracked.

“KARNIS!” Varkas roared, but the floor beneath him gave way, buckling from the Force-laced slam of Yulvaris’ palm. His footing slipped — and before he could leap free, lightning surged toward him like a demon unleashed.

It hit hard. Sparks flew. Armor plates popped and hissed as Varkas staggered under the onslaught, his growl turning into a deep, guttural cry. Yet, even in pain, he lifted his saber—he would not fall like this.

Then the ceiling groaned.

Varkas barely had time to register it.

KR-KRRSSHHH!!

A massive boulder tore free, and with a wicked tug of the Force, Yulvaris hurled it downward. Varkas brought his saber up to cleave it in half, but his joints were slow, his body weakened by lightning. The stone collided—

BOOM.

A cloud of pulverized rock erupted.

Silence.

Karnis dangled midair, his form limp. His skin cracked, smoking. And still the lightning poured into him, feeding the monster below. Yulvaris drank in the pain, bathed in it.

35 seconds.

The cave screamed again. Cracks raced along the walls like veins of doom.

Karnis’ burned eyes opened a sliver. He saw Varkas — or what might be Varkas — pinned beneath debris. He tried to speak, to warn… but the lightning snapped across his face once more, and his vision faded.

But the Marauders were not dead yet.

Beneath the rubble, Varkas stirred. One arm twitched. Rage still burned. Even broken, even pinned, his hatred hadn’t died. It would never die.

And Karnis, broken as he was, reached—barely—to the Force.

Yulvaris had overplayed his hand.

Would the Marauders die in this cave, or drag the false god into the abyss with them?

The clock ticked.

30 seconds…


Tag: @Yulvaris

 

[Yulvaris]

It was all such a glorious success. He wishes only that he could make this moment last a bit longer. Alas, the cave was crumbling and his time here was over.

Having outlived his usefulness, he decides to end Karnis’ torment by reaching out with the force to snap his neck and would aim to do the same with Varkas with a vicious Force Choke as he clenched his fist.

25 seconds…

Once that was done and he was certain they were finished at last, he then would use the force to quickly collect whatever corpses he could. However, to ensure there would be no other surprises like with the sorceress, he would use Karnis’ lightsaber like a buzzsaw via the force to decapitate each of corpses for his own insurance.

20 seconds…

He then collects Karnis’ saber-staff alongside their heads using the force, and would begin to bolt out of there using force speed. It had been loyal to him before and he prayed it would help him now.

Tag: @Marcus Aumont