Fiction Activity Overview

Displaying fiction activity reports 12321 - 12330 of 13416 in total
Competition
Monstrosity: Temple of the Forgotten
Textual submission

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

Competition
Monstrosity: Temple of the Forgotten
Textual submission

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

Competition
Monstrosity: Temple of the Forgotten
Textual submission

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

Competition
Monstrosity: Temple of the Forgotten
Textual submission

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

Competition
Monstrosity: Temple of the Forgotten
Textual submission

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

URL
https://discourse.darkjedibrotherhood.com/t/forgotten-campaign/756/10
Notes
Closing Fiction for CSP's Monstrosity Event
Official Fiction For
Clan Scholae Palatinae
Competition
Arconan Origins
File submission
MarickArconae-Origins.pdf
Textual submission

Entry attached.

-W

URL
https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/competitions/9363
Competition
Arconan Origins
Submission
Golden Envoy Abbey Atty Attiter Ann opted out of publishing his submission.
URL
https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/competitions/9363
Competition
Arconan Origins
Textual submission

Port Ol’val
Lucky Lekku Cantina

“I win!”

Mks and K’tana grinned at each other from opposite sides of the table; his drink down to its last sips and hers almost full. The Miraluka tossed his cards onto the table and drained what was left.

“That’s the third time in a row! C’mon, I’m dying from thirst here!”

“You’re the one who wanted to play a drinking game, Ms. Leader. Maybe if you hadn’t picked a game you can hustle me with then perhaps…”

“Hey, don’t blame the player, blame the game.”

“Does the same logic apply to cheating too?”

Both of her hands crashed into the table, eyes flashing fiercely.

“You calling me a cheater, sis?”

Their faces turned serious, both frozen in place as they watched the other intently. Although the cantina was quiet, the sudden change in atmosphere spread to the other patrons as they too began to stare. Something passed between them in the silence and then began to laugh until it was the only sound in the entire room. The bystanders marked them as unstable and their attentions died away.

“Well, that was the last of my credits - and my access to liquor!,” he rose from his seat, his usual robes replaced by a dark hooded tunic and long shorts, “So you’ll have to give me the opportunity to win it back sometime and buy me a drink or two for goodwill.”

K’tana’s laughter slowed down, her disappointment clearly written on her face, “So soon? But I was planning on you buying me a new speeder. Fine, you can go - but you’d better bring more next time! I don’t do quickies Mr. Blind Man, I am a Lady, don’t you know.”

The Miraluka nodded seriously, taking the time to make an elaborate bow that had taken a whole afternoon with his obstinate Master to learn, “Of course, my Lady Lekku.”

The Twi’lek applauded before dismissing him with one hand as the other emptied the contents of her glass into her mouth. Mks smiled and tucked his hair into his hood before pulling it over his head and walking out onto the street.

It wasn’t a particularly busy time in the Port, but it was rare to go five steps without seeing someone. There was always a pauper left in tatters on some worn corner or a cart led by a large animal took up half of the road. Messy, he thought blandly and turned down one of the narrow side streets, picking the pace into a light jog. Suddenly the smells of the Port became obvious - urine being the main component. But beneath that was the scent of human waste and rotting meat. Two things that were best avoided. He sprinted around a corner and leapt to a broken ledge, bouncing his way back and forth between the adjacent buildings until he was on the roof.

It didn’t look much better from up on top. Generally, the main streets were kept much cleaner than the narrower ones. Some of the spicers native to Port Ol’val put some credits together to keep them cleaned, a rather obvious attempt at a peace offering to House Qel-Droma after the Trials of Loyalty suffocated the Triumvirate.

He watched from his vantage point as a scruffy robed occupant threw a bucket of waste into the alleyway beneath him and was on his way before the smell reached him. The path he ran across was bright underfoot - brighter than the dust that seemed to coat everything. The Port was busy, with the mixed vibrations of engines from the ships coming and going constant. Dust was a sign that you were poor enough to have to live closeby to the inner walls, a fresh showering of dust falling with every exit and arrival. Although he couldn’t quite see the difference between rooftop with dust and rooftop without, he could feel the difference. A perk to being blind, one would say.

The roofs began to turn flimsy as he reached the slums and he changed direction, heading straight towards the rough asteroid walls. His hands found ledges with ease and he pulled himself up and into a small natural hollow. There he found a small receiver which he plugged into his ear and turned it on.

You have received two messages.

“Play all.”

He lay back against the cool stone as he cooled off and awaited the maelstrom.

“Apprentice,” his tone was clipped and with barely restrained anger, “I regret to inform you that although I agreed to your occasional usage of my personal library that should you avoid returning them like we agreed then we shall have to end our current partnership with the gravest of- oh, no wait, here it is. Never mind.”

End of message one.

Somehow he caught himself before the first chuckle and managed to say fairly clearly, “Next.”

"Apprentice,” this time he was hissing and Mks felt his stomach clench in preparation, “I’ve been trying to find you for some time. I can’t really talk here but I finally have something for you to do. Something long-term. You’ll have support in this. Two days, same place.”

The Miraluka stayed still for a very long time, his face frozen in the same anticipatory smile.

----

Two Days Later
Felicity Gentlemen's Club
Private Rooms

“Explain to me again why we meet here?”

Strategos stopped pouring himself a drink from an elegantly carved decanter for a moment.

“You know, I can’t quite remember.”

After he slid himself into a luxuriously made seat and made what agreeable sounds he felt he needed to, he finally noticed his Apprentice.

“So, you’re leaving Shadow Gate.”

The human took a brief swig of his drink, taking the time to savour the flavour.

“And?”

“And you’ll be leading Tyrant Sword. Would you like me to hold your hand and explain what that entails too?”

The room was quiet for a moment, with Mks in deep thought, a light smile ever on his lips, whilst his Master found more pressing things to observe on his robes.

“You’ll be coming with me, then.”

“And that wasn’t a question - good, you’re learning to think for yourself. Well done.”

The Equite let the comment pass.

“But why me?”

“It’s your turn, is it not? And is it not also my place to provide you with the room you require to grow, to save you from the cracks that most in your rank fall into? To guide-”

“And the real reason is?” The Mystic stretched the last syllable out to his Masters irritation. It had taken a long time to speak to one another so free of pomp but they both agreed it would cut a lot of wasted time.

“I’m bored,” he waved his hand at Mks dismissively, “Entertain me, or something.”

The Miraluka laughed briefly before leaning back to watch the fire, the crackling sounds a relaxing component for speculation, “Sure, I have some ideas about how to do that.”

“Good, then get yourself a drink. There is much you need to know.”

URL
https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/competitions/9363
Competition
Arconan Origins
Textual submission

Origins of the Wolf
By Lonewolf

Sitting in the cockpit of The Bloodhound - a YT-2000 series light freighter I had picked up too long ago I couldn’t even remember - I looked out among the asteroid belt I was drifting through. The ship was in standby mode, only the fate hum of the life support system flittering the carbon dioxide to oxygen could be heard. I closed my eyes, focusing on the beat of my own heart. It slowed to a beat a second then every two seconds. I had taken the time over the early years of my life to master the simple workings of my body.

Time at The Corellian Academy for Gentlemen, or as it was more famously known as The CAG, had taught me a lot. The human body, so similar to near-human species yet so different, was the master of the mind growing up. You could push it only so far before the mind told you it was time to stop. At The CAG they taught us how to do the opposite, the mind to become master of the body. They pushed us for hours upon hours upon hours through military drills. During my second year it required us to go with only a maximum of two hours of sleep per day for a week. Should you be caught sleeping outside of the allowed time you were severely disciplined.

I slowed my heart to a mere single beat every five seconds, my breathing slow, my pulse low. I stretched out with the Force. I had only discovered it several years earlier during my time in the Unknown Regions, which was a name it didn’t deserve. Much of the so-called Unknown Regions were very much known, I just don’t think the map makers wanted to update their information after centuries. Still, the name had its appeal. It had to me. Over nearly two decades they had called to me. The Infinite Crisis during The Forgotten Campaigns; it was literal hell. Only a handful remembered the battles, the screams, the blood.

That was when I first had touched the Force. It would be nearly fifteen years before I really found it. And in doing so it changed me. I had gone from a comrade in arms, fighting shoulder to shoulder with men I had known since childhood. With the death of two of my old CAG classmates I had ventured off and became what I was now: a lonewolf.

I stretched out with the Force, feeling the chunks of rock floating around me. The Bloodhound was programmed and modified to avoid all ships found on passive radar, to miss the asteroids. I was truly alone out here and that is how I liked it. I didn’t sense anyone: no cloaked ship, no smuggler bypassing security patrols, nothing. I was alone, at peace with the Force for this brief moment in time.

When my friends had died I left the service of the Corellian Corps for the last time. I left my family, my siblings, my homeworld of Corellia behind. For several years I wandered the unknowns of space. It took me to far off planets, to different species, into arms of erotic lovers. Still, I moved on. I continued to venture, escaping my pain. It was only until I arrived within the Antei System that I found something worth stopping for: the Brotherhood.

They called themselves the Dark Jedi Brotherhood but I didn’t see it when I first arrived. I met my first Master, Rhiann Hi'ija. She had been a pirate lord, working around the system. She and another member of the Tyrant Sword had tried to board the Bloodhound. It was only when she felt my connection to the Force, and I her’s, did she bring me into the fold of the Brotherhood.

The Dark Jedi Brotherhood, what an interesting name since there were Jedi and Gray Jedi among them. I had just taken to calling them The Brotherhood soon after arriving. I wasn’t on a path of darkness, though I had done dark things in my years. I was searching for something between light and darkness. Sure, I could have gone to Yavin IV, to the Jedi Academy to search for a further connection to the Force. I could of headed to Ziost or Kariburr in search of the Sith. The stories of both had been told throughout the galaxy; I knew where to look, where to find those if I really wanted to. But no, I had been put on a path to meet Master Rhiann.

She brought me to Port Ol’val in the Dajorra System. It was a hive like Mos Eisley it seemed: full of bounty hunters, smugglers, a breeding ground for the underworld; those that didn’t want to be found. There she introduced me to House Qel-Droma, a house of Clan Arcona of The Brotherhood. It was all very new to me. Many around that I was introduce to were not dark per se, but were on the same journey I was. They were there looking for something they couldn’t describe.

I drifted through the headquarters of House Qel-Droma buried within the depths of Port Ol’val. It was called The Phantom Complex. I could feel the power of the Force here: light, dark, gray. I could feel the struggle within it. I wasn’t met with open arms but I wasn’t met with cold shoulders either.

Rhiann quickly took me on as her apprentice before she left the Order only several weeks later. I could feel the abandonment from her. She was my guide in this new world she quickly brought and left me in. I could have left. I could have climbed aboard the Bloodhound, left Port Ol’val, left The Brotherhood behind but I wouldn’t. Something had drawn me here. Something beyond myself. In all the galaxy I was brought to this place.

I heard a beep on the console before me. My heart quickened, returning to its normal pace. I opened my eyes and looked at the instruments before me. There was a ship approaching, almost on an intercept course. I flipped a few switches, preparing to arm the ship. This vessel must of dropped out of hyperspace. They knew where I was.

No, here is where I currently belonged. Could I leave tomorrow? Sure. Would I? I didn’t know. All I knew is that House Qel-Droma was where I was for now. I would continue to learn how to use my connection with the Force whether it be for the “greater good”, for some “evil purpose” or just for my own enlightenment. For now, it seemed I would have to deal with whoever was planning on paying me a visit.

URL
https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/competitions/9363