OOM: In the Hall of Traitors, Part 2

[last_kallig]

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani glances at Garyn and smiles softly at him before she puts on the helm of her armor. With the helm on, her body language speaks of power, iron confidence, and a touch of arrogance. In other words, a typical Sith. She moves to the Door and makes sure to hold it open long enough for Garyn to come through.

The sight on the other side of the door is Kaas City, the capital of the Empire. Massive towers of durasteel, permacrete and transparasteel tower into the sky and stretch down far enough below the platform they are on that mist obscures the ground from view. It is unspeakably early in the morning, not yet dawn, but there are still air taxis flying through the air between the towers taking early morning travelers all across the enormous sprawl of the city. Above it all, the sky crackles with storm clouds and lightning without the promise of rain.

Comments

[moonandstar]

Garyn takes a long, lunging stride and stomps hard on the Sith's wrist, keeping it pinned between stone and durasteel.

He lifts his blade, primed to thrust it downward toward the Sith's heart.

[last_kallig]

Up until he was sent sprawling onto the ground, the Sith wasn't taking this fight seriously, not really. One mere soldier couldn't be a real threat to a Sith!

He's definitely taking Garyn seriously NOW. The Sith reaches out with the Force for his lightsaber as Garyn pins his wrist. A touch of power presses the activation button and brings the blade back to life. Another pull sends the blade flying at Garyn in a deadly arc.

[moonandstar]

Even a mercenary from another universe can recognize that distinctive hiss-and-buzz of a lightsaber being activated. Before he can even vocalize it, Garyn realizes what the Sith is doing.

Telekinesis.

He falls flat to the ground, hands-first, and begins to roll out of the way. It's a desperate move, he knows it. It surely wouldn't be enough. The impact comes. There's a brief sizzle of plasma-on-durasteel. Garyn closes his eyes. But he feels nothing.

A glancing blow. The armor had done its job.

Garyn pulls up from a crouch and turns to face his foe. He had lost the initiative, but retained his sword. The Sith rises, grimacing, his saber in hand.

Then his leg buckles, and he falls to one knee. He had torn a ligament in the fall!

Garyn charges, seeing now his opportunity. With a mighty blow he sends the Sith sprawling onto his back once more.

[last_kallig]

Even on his back, the Sith has his lighsaber in one hand and ready to defend himself.

His other hand is pointed toward Garyn, palm out. Rage, hate, fear and pain are all excellent fuel for the Dark side, and for force lightning. There is a faint smell of ozone in the air an instant before blue lightning arcs out at Garyn, writhing almost as if alive.

[moonandstar]

The lightning lances around and through Garyn, the polymer padding beneath his armor providing only the most basic protection against the searing electricity coursing through his bones. It is agony to even stand. He grits his teeth and growls like a cornered werewolf as the Sith parries his repeated strikes. But he has borne worse. He will die if he does not bear this.

He grinds his boot on the Sith's ruined knee. His enemy howls in unrelenting pain. The lightning intensifies, striking out at every living plant, animal, or microbe within five meters. But there is no focus to his attack now - a diffuse emanation of incoherent rage, directed at everything and nothing. It's more painful. But it hurts him less.

The Sith's hands are spread wide. He has dropped his guard. Mustering all his strength, Garyn plunges his sword into the Sith's chest, stabbing again and again and again, time after time until finally, the lightning ceases.

The Sith's eyes stare blankly up at Garyn. But the fury is gone, and the spark has left him.

Garyn stays on his knees and fumbles around his belt for a healing potion. The miasma of ozone hangs in the air, and he can smell something cooking.

[last_kallig]

Now that Garyn isn't preoccupied with fighting for his life, he might notice what's been going on with his two companions.

Khem Val's blood thirsty, joyous, laughter roars across the battlefield as he harries 'his' Sith. The male Sith he's fighting is tiring, having trouble blocking the fast and powerful sword blows aimed at him by the Dashade. In desperation, the Sith throws force lighting at him, lightning that looks an awful lot like what just hit Garyn. Khem Val hardly seems to even notice the lightning, and he brings his sword around in a sweep that splits the Sith nearly in half. The lightning flickers and dies as Khem yanks his sword free of the new corpse.

The fight between Ibani and a female Sith is still raging. This Sith is on a different level than her 'comrades', and she didn't make the mistake of underestimating her foe. They clash with one another impossibly quickly, leaping through the air, rebounding off of vertical walls, and making landings that ought to break their legs. Their lightsaber blows are punctuated with kicks, punches, bits of the landscape picked up with Force, and the snap-crackle of small bursts of lightning.

Khem Val looks hungrily at the corpse of the Sith at Garyn's feet before turning his gaze to where Ibani is locked in battle. "Soon," he says, his experienced gaze appraising the ebb and flow of the duel.

[moonandstar]

Garyn backs himself against a tree and grits his teeth as the potion goes down. He doesn't start watching his comrades until he stops sizzling. Just enough time to see how the Dashade's fight ends. If you could call that a fight. No doubt Khem Val would do the same to him.

Once the wounds are mostly closed he rises to his feet. His hand drops to his waist, for all the good his sword would do against either of these two. Here was the grace that had taken his breath away by the lake. And against an opponent who was a match for her.

If the fight ends poorly, he won't have long to mourn. There will be little of him left to bury.

[last_kallig]

It might do him some good. He has killed a Sith in one on one combat, a feat few non-Force sensitives can claim. But that won't be tested today, at least not yet.

One advantage that Jedi and Sith alike seldom remember to use in battle is that a lighsaber's blade can be turned off and then back on. Ibani swings at her opponent and deactivates her blade just before the lightsabers would clash. She continues her swing until the hilt is past her opponent's block and reactivates her lightsaber with a snap hiss.

The possessed Sith has no time to move out of the way as Ibani's lightsaber cuts through the skull above her nose and continues all the way through her opponent's head. There is surprisingly little blood as the Sith's body topples to the ground.

Now that she's not focused on the battle, she can feel Garyn's pain. She stows her blade and strides toward him, glancing at the Sith he killed. "Impressive," she states as she closes the distance. "Even the finest soldiers tend to die screaming in agony when facing a Sith one on one in melee."

She's standing right next to him now. "It would be a pity to see such talent wasted due to injury. Try not to panic."

She reaches out to touch his shoulder and the Force floods Garyn's system, soothing pain, healing damaged nerves, muscles and bones. Along with the healing comes love, worry, pride, and guilt, all the things she cannot say aloud right now.

[moonandstar]

From his heart flows a stream of its own. Love. Admiration. Gratitude.

His face wears a rough smirk.

"I'm sure that's what he thought," Garyn says. "I find I'm often underestimated."

[last_kallig]

Ibani smirks at his statement, although the sight is invisible behind her mask. "I've found myself in that situation often as well. It's proven....useful." Funny how people who underestimate her have this tendency to wind up dead.

Once everyone is healed up, it's time to continue on their way. The stairs wind up the hill, cracked in places, before they cross the threshold and enter the interior of the Dark Temple. The enormous stone space swallows the sounds of their movements and sickly green light highlights giant figures with their heads bowed, arms at their sides. There is far less opposition within than Ibani was expecting.

The periphery holds a few possessed guards and slaves, trivial challenges by comparison to what they've already faced. Blaster fire clashes harmlessly on armor or is dodged with Ibani's grace while lightsaber and vibroblades cut the enemy to pieces.

As they approach the giant metal doors that mark the inner chamber, the voices of the dead go utterly silent for the first time since they reached the Temple grounds. Ibani pauses as she withdraws the sigil key from a pocket on her belt. "It seems the lesser dead fear the spirit here, or he has some other means of keeping them away from this chamber."

She glances at Khem and Garyn. "I don't know what we will face within. It would be wise for us to proceed cautiously."

[moonandstar]

Garyn is alert. Uneasy, with only his training and experience holding him steady. The loosely scattered band of enemies in the heart of this enormous temple were far fewer in number than they ought to have been. It's the loudest silence he's ever heard.

The phrase I smell an ambush is too obvious to be appropriate. Instead he raises his sword.

"Lead on."

[last_kallig]

Ibani nods and places the key in the door, which slides open soundlessly. She steps through the door with Khem Val following her.

There is little to see inside the chamber, only a raised dais with a heavy sarcophagus resting on it. There are signs of others who trespassed upon this chamber, yellowed human bones that lie upon the chamber floor. The bones show no pattern in arrangement, and no obvious signs of the means of death.

The smell of dust and closed spaces, the scent of old crypts, hangs in the air as Ibani slowly, slowly approaches the dais. She's listening to the Force, but it's hard to sense anything clearly with the interference of the Dark energy of the Temple thick as molasses all around her.

Perhaps that's why she doesn't sense any trouble until it's too late to dodge.

A flicker of blue out of the corner of one eye heralds the manifestation of Lord Kallig. The ghost raises one arm and Ibani is picked up, lifted violently into the air and slammed into the ceiling. A moment later, the ghost lowers his arm and his force push slams Ibani into the floor face down hard enough to crack bones even through her armor.

Training and desperation enable her to roll to her feet and throw force lightning at the ghost despite the concussion and broken ribs. The lightning passes through Lord Kallig harmlessly, and the spirit lifts her into the air again, his fist clenched.

Ibani can feel the force choke cutting off her oxygen as she hangs suspended in the air. Her hands scrabble uselessly at her throat while she tries to use her power to break free of his hold. She'd LIKE to spit defiance in his face or shout a warning to Garyn to run, but the only sounds she can make are the sounds someone makes when they're being strangled.

"Yes -- yes!" Lord Kallig says, pleased. "I have been waiting for you."

Khem Val is still, watching the scene unfold. Perhaps he does not care if his 'Master' dies, perhaps he simply knows there's nothing he can do to hurt a Force ghost.

[moonandstar]

Nothing he can do.

Garyn's other sword is out before the other one is even cast aside. There's no time to sheath it properly. No time to ask why he's been waiting for her. No time even to snarl and demand he let her go.

This thing is hurting Ibani. It has to die - forever, this time.

He rakes it twice across the back. The incorporeal form offers just enough resistance to know he's hit something, its presence in the Force split by pure magicka like a soft cheese being cut. The floor hisses and crackles as streaks of lightning illuminate its smoky form.

[last_kallig]

The ghost recoils from the raking blows and lightning of Garyn's sword. Kallig loses his grip on Ibani, and she crashes to the floor. She's stunned for a moment as she tries to force the greyness out of her vision and air into her lungs.

Lord Kallig did not know he COULD be hurt, especially not by such a creature as Garyn. But this threat must be dealt with, right NOW. The ghost grasps Garyn with the Force and flings him, hard, across the chamber, out the door, and into a wall where the hallway curves sharply.

By the time Garyn has hit the wall, Ibani has recovered enough to stand. And she's PISSED. A purple aura crackles around her body and she snarls at Kallig. "I came prepared even for such as you."

The ghost looks at her and nods. "Indeed. I would have expected nothing less of you, the one who woke me from my nightmare." He sounds....pleased? Indeed his body language isn't hostile at all, now.

"Peace, flesh of my flesh. You have proved your mettle to me."

"What are you talking about?!" Ibani demands, angry and confused.

[moonandstar]

Garyn slams into the wall and sprawls onto the cold floor beneath him. The armor keeps his bones from breaking. It can do nothing for the deceleration trauma.

His breath shortens. His vision swims. The dim Temple swirls in a gray, undistinguished blur. He fights the drive to slide further into unconsciousness. He presses his hands against the floor and tries to bring himself to his feet.

It's no good. He sways and stumbles. He falls to his knees again, crawling, searching for his sword.

"Ibani...

[last_kallig]

The Force is with him, as Garyn's sword isn't all that far from him.

Lord Kallig answers her with a slightly surprised tone of voice. "You do not know me? Has our family fallen so far that the daughter of my daughters does not know the name of Kallig, a name long revered in the annals of the Sith?"

"Obviously," Ibani answers, her tone still sharp with anger and sarcasm. How, how can she be related to an ancient Sith Lord when she was born a slave? How does he even know of her, when he's been dead more than two thousand years?

Kallig continues on much as if she hadn't spoken. "Your strength in the Force woke me from my slumber. When the weaklings of this planet trespassed upon my tomb centuries ago, I rose and resumed what I believed to be my former life. This temple became my kingdom, and I was once more a Lord of the Sith."

"How did I wake you, then, when I've never been here before?"

"When you first grasped the hilt of your lightsaber there was an echo of your power in the Force, a ripple that reached me here. That was when I knew my hour had come and gone - that your strength, not mine, would return our family to glory."

[moonandstar]

Garyn's hand finds the hilt. He rises to his feet, for good this time. The voice of the spirit is indistinct and far away, venturing in and out of hearing beneath the throbbing of his head.

[last_kallig]

He might hear Ibani's voice, still tight with anger. "That doesn't explain why YOU woke up all the spirits in this Temple. What was the point in stirring all of them up?"

"To bring you here," Kallig explains with a shrug. "I am still too weak to leave, but I knew if I made myself enough of a nuisance, you would eventually come. The Sith throw flesh endlessly at what they cannot control."

Ibani thinks of those they had to slay to get here, of all the slaves and soldiers slaughtered in the past few days. Force, if her Master hadn't needed to send her here the slaughter could have gone on for months, years! But that cost was, is, nothing to Lord Kallig. The only value other people have is in the value they have to HIM, and those who have died and could have died mean nothing to him at all.

"That was your best plan for contacting me?" Ibani asks, acidly. "Still, I suppose I'm here, now."

"But not for me," Kallig replies, tone faintly bemused. "You have come for an artifact I managed to wrest from Tulak Hord before my death."

"Yes," Ibani replies, slightly surprised at his knowledge. "I'm surprised he left it with you, considering....."

"That he killed me," Kallig finishes. "We were close, once. I called him friend, before he betrayed me. Do not make my mistake, flesh of my flesh. Beware your Master, beware your apprentice. Never be taken by surprise. Treachery is the Sith's endless game - and you must win it."

[moonandstar]

A bruised Dunmer staggers into the chamber with his sword drawn. A fleck of blood drips out of the corner of his mouth. It occurs to him at last that he had bitten his tongue.

[last_kallig]

Khem Val glances at Garyn as he staggers into the chamber, his gaze appraising. The Dashade is more curious about him and less dismissive now that he's seen Garyn do something he knows should not be possible. It might be weak, but this creature is interesting.

Lord Kallig continues to speak, gesturing at the sarcophagus. "Take the artifact, but be careful - I know not what it does. Only that betrayal follows it everywhere." Kallig glances briefly at Garyn before turning back to Ibani. "I hunger for the day when our power will be restored. We will meet again." Then he fades away as if he was never there at all.

Ibani exhales a breath she wasn't aware that she was holding and turns to look at Garyn. She's already reaching out to him with the Force before she speaks. "Matters seem to have resolved themselves, but better safe than sorry."

Ibani has extensive experience managing pain and the side effects of a concussion with the Force and she's been delaying them, for lack of a better term, since she rolled to her feet to attack Lord Kallig with lightning. She's not certain how much longer the delay will last or what will happen if they run into more Sith on the way out of here, but SHE has the option of engaging a foe outside of melee and Garyn does not, so his healing must come first. It is getting easier and easier to reach Garyn at a distance, but this time she can feel the strain as she heals the damage to his body.

Once Garyn is healed, Ibani gestures to Khem to open the sarcophagus. The lid makes a crashing sound as it hits the floor. There, the artifact! Ibani lifts out a crystalline and metal cube only slightly larger than her palm.

[moonandstar]

Garyn exhales as the warmth of her distant healing touch subsides. He looks at the cube, eyebrow raised in puzzlement.

"I believe I missed the lecture. What was that thing and what has it given you?"

[last_kallig]

"That thing was the ghost of Lord Kallig," Ibani replies. "And it seems he stirred up all these spirits we've been hearing in the belief that I would be among the bodies thrown at the problem sooner or later."

Ibani lifts the holocron up higher so that Garyn can see it more readily. "This is the artifact that I was sent to find. It's a holocron, a device used to record lore, rituals, secrets. Sometimes they also hold small objects inside of them, but I can't tell whether that's the case here."

[moonandstar]

Garyn's brow furrows. "But why would it go to all that trouble?"

[last_kallig]

"Because my presence in the Force woke him from the waking dream that most spirits dwell in, and because I am flesh of his flesh." Ibani gives a short, bitter, laugh. "Very distant blood given the mathematics of human reproduction and the fact that he's been dead more than two thousands years, but I have a nasty suspicion I'm his only option for returning the family name to glory."

[moonandstar]

Garyn's brow gains a few more wrinkles.

"I see."

His inflection is halfway between "I don't like this at all" and "We'll talk about this later." His face looks like he just stepped in something.