Fiction Gallery

How could we have possibly known about the special device that Pravus did own Rumor has it it was given to him by a mysterious mouse who turned out to be a disgusting louse It gave him the power to erase Anything that in his mind didn't have a place Ships, vehicles, and so much more Just vaporized if it didn't fit in his lore We were left with not much to fight Dang, this just isn't right.

"How much do you trust me?" A Poem by Scion Tarentae

The enemy of my enemy is my friend And now we're all friends at the end Should the GM's grasp of intrigue Prove well beyond our league Then friend from friend we'll defend.

"They All Turned Tail and Ran" A Limerick by Scion Tarentae

There once was a man from Antei Who studied the Force every day. The allies arrived He might not have survived But from his feet rose a pungent bouquet.

He walks a straight path Unwavering in his task To root out betrayal

Five Grand Masters in a row The first one said I told you so The second one said Will the Star Chamber be fine The third one said Only if the power is mine The fourth one said My tenure will never end The fifth one said All things will die, when I ascend

When we were young, before we grew old, Tales of a monster we were told.
A creature of darkness, so we thought, A lesson about fear that we were taught. Yet, as an Elder, I have come to know, the legend of Darth Pravus as a foe. The power of a Grand Master unleashed His Force Tempest raging, an unshackled beast.

The forces of Plagueis and Tarentum put together a coalition of skilled individuals whose task was to assassinate Darth Pravus. Their attempts were futile in the end though, as Pravus’ foresight and lines of protection were too great for the coalition to overcome. The death of the leader of the Iron Legion was the hair pin to the entire operation on Antei, and with the plan going awry, the combined forces began to crumble before the face of Pravus. Plagueis and Tarentum started to lose battles on all fronts, many good soldiers losing their lives on the dusty wasteland of Antei.

Abadeer Taasii was a loyal servitor of Plagueis. He worked hard in his short time to better the Clan and lead those that he chose as his new family. He is remembered by House Karness Muur, who grieve for their fallen Aedile. Abadeer lost his life like so many others, at the hands of the Dark Lord, Darth Pravus, himself. Abadeer bravely took on the Sith Lord to protect his allies, allowing them a chance to get off planet when all hope was lost. His life was spent so that many more could live on. Though he has no family that remember him on his home planet of Shilli, he will be remembered by those that he considered family in the end.

Abadeer leaned heavily on the wall of the trench he’d just slid into. His left arm had been hit by a blaster, and it hung limply at his side. Taasii panted heavily, he’d been in the fighting for hours. Both the Plagueis and Tarenti forces were devastated at this point. They had no hope of winning this fight, at this point it was a matter of who would survive. Abadeer was determined to get out alive, he’d always survived and he always would, but now though his primary concern was his own safety, he was an Aedile and he had people to look after as well.

Taasii steeled himself and started running through the battlefield to locations where he knew his people to be, gathering what was left of House Karness Muur, and moving bak to the ships. Though Tarentum was an ally, Abadeer felt no cares for them. If they survived, fine. If they didn’t, that was no skin off his back.

As Abadeer directed his forces aboard the shuttle, he heard sounds overhead of approaching ships. At first his heart sunk, thinking that these were reinforcements of the Iron Legion, but soon he recognized it for what it was. The fleet of Arcona, the Shadow Lady and her forces were here, and they didn’t seem to be siding with the Iron Legion. This was just what Abadeer needed, a diversion to get his people out of the battlefield alive.

Now we shall see our battle's ending here Upon the soil of Antei once great A broken symbol of power not once controlled Is now the place where bold power is stole - Oh Pravus, the Lord of Darkness come The fleet, it's magnanimous size outshone the sun - So run.

Driven by anger, acting in rage, we forgot about Pravus' friend, Luke Cage, as Pravus meets Marvel, and then we meet them, we're writing on a different page.

Darth Pravus, he always wins When we dying, he gets the grins His key is he’s Pravus, that’s it All he has to say is “Sit!” We all fall right down Our bodies as low as our frown

Driven by anger, acting without fear, we lost the sight that not victory, but defeat was near. We fought against him, as ruched caddle, but lost the sight that many still stand aside him in battle.

The Iron Legion came crashing down Their forces endless, like a winter avalanche Crushing and destroying all in there path, But when Pravus sacrificed his own That’s when we knew, truly how far gone he was. The avalanche was now a wave of magma Nothing could survive, and everything burns.

Pravus stands up there Unbeaten, always unbowed We can not go on

Major Ranarr (Itshim) Kul, 21, born in Kuzil on Planet Cathar, died in battle on Sunday, October 23th, on Antei. This young and eager Cathar, often stubborn and touchy, shall always be remembered for his devotion and loyalty to Clan Tarentum and its members. Founder of the Order of the Trident, current Rollmaster of Tarentum and active member of battleteam Grey Wolf. Although not leaving behind an actual family, he'll surely be missed by his 'Tarentum family'.

Our intentions fail Our heart is filled with anger But Pravus lives on

We all fought real brave We all sacrificed a lot But his reign goes on

Pravus' reign goes on But we will not bow to him Our plans will live on

This is not the end. No way, undefeatable? Our story...over.

That dark side writhes within him, This is no comic strip. His tactics not on a whim, Clans will lose leadership.

Oh the poor, poor alliance, How did you not know? That the Grand Master Pravus, Is really John Snow. (You know nothing.)

It is with regret that we announce the death of Nath Agrona member of Clan Arcona, House Galeres, she passed at the age of twenty five in service to her Clan.

Many knew of her but few knew her. Born on Iridonia she was found by the now deceased Zakath Agrona and brought into the fold of the Shadow Clan.

Diligent in her service, Nath has served both Galeres and Qel-Droma. In her time she has served within Dark Forge, Shadow Gate, Nighthawk, Soul Fire and most recently Tal'mahe'Ra.

Her pride however, are her Students Skar Agrona and Kordath Bleu d'Tana, whom she trained and have accomplished much within the Clan.

She also created ties in and outside Clan Arcona. Some had more substance than others but are of equal mention.

As her wish there will be no service held, her remains have been passed to Kalon Tsucyra Entar who will carry out her final wishes as laid out in her will.

It was also a part of her will to make known that there are those who will receive private messages, these will be delivered in short order.

Death is just the next step.

It was as though the gods wept crimson tears of blood.

It seemed to accumulate in the air and coat anyone that came within the vicinity. Bodies lay crumpled, wounded cried out but the uninjured weren't occupied with their well being.

By the time the Arconan's arrived it was difficult to ascertain friend from foe, those who attacked were cut down with prejudice. The rest were left to fight their battles. Mingled into the out cries of those dying were the battle cries, and the silent but equally felt relief of the Shadow Clan's arrival.

No pause was given, no ground and no mercy.

The acrid metallic tang invaded the senses and there was nothing left but rage.

For the dying.

For the dead.

And for the oppressed.

None could find hope here, the last stand, desperate and savage.

Knowledge is power You may be eternal now But we will succeed

As Armad walked the outskirts of the Northern Coast, his datapad chimed to let him know that he had received new information. He paused alongside a ruined guard shack for what he assumed had been a rather pricey neighborhood, he checked his datapad and saw that about half of his recon droids had either been destroyed or disabled. The Hydroponics facility? Interesting that none droids were able to get within a hundred meters of it. Armad tucked his datapad back into the bulk pocket of his overcoat as he felt a menacing male presence as it moved in his general direction. Armad didn’t physically react to this, but turned to walk away toward the nearest access point into the Auxiliary.

“Hey!” The man yelled at him, but Armad kept walking away. “Hey you! Stop!” There was no warning that he’d shoot, but Armad felt the man aim in his direction and fired. Armad just froze when the bolt streaked into the ground next to his feet.

“All right, all right!” Armad said as he put his hands up in surrender. He gave a slight pause at the fact that he was still in his battle armor, though he was glad he had enough foresight to tuck his lightsaber away in a sleeve pocket. He didn’t want to get outed as a Force-user, not yet anyway. As Armad turned around he noticed that there was now three beings with blaster rifles aimed at him.

“What are you doing out here?” The male asked as he walked toward him from the ruined guardshack. Armad could tell that this guy was just the perimeter muscle, hired to keep those that employed him safe from any riffraff that came along looking for hand-outs or trouble. Armad watched as the big guy looked him up and down, gauging how much trouble he would be. The big guy walked up to Armad and stopped about a meter away, “Well? I asked you a question.”

“Out for a stroll?” Armad quipped, as he looked to see if he could bluff his way out and get back to what he had to do. The guard didn’t seem to buy it, as he didn’t even crack a smile at the obvious lie. Armad put his hands down as the guard started to close the distance between them. Instead of taking a second step, the guard lurched forward and struck Armad in the gut. Caught completely by surprise, Armad doubled over in pain as the air was knocked out of him. The guard grabbed him by the loose garment at his shoulder, and stood him upright.

“Uh uh, out for a stroll. I really don’t believe you.” The guard stated, then released him which caused him to drop to his knees. “Bring him up to the house. We’ll ask the boss what she thinks,” the guard said to his two compatriots as he backed up and pulled off the heavy metal glove off his right hand. That would explain how that punch had been so effective against the armor that he had on, Armad realized. As the two guards came forward, Armad contemplated revealing who he was so he could leave, but he was mildly curious who this boss was and why she was up here with guards. After a second or two of thought, he came to the conclusion that this could prove interesting so he decided to cooperate.

The house he was being escorted to looked to have escaped the devastation that had befallen Kar Alabrek, mostly. The main house was still intact, but the guard house and a couple of the outer houses had some damage, as far as Armad could tell. One of the guards thought that Armad was walking too slow so he pushed him up the steps to the mansion, causing him to stumble up the steps a bit. When he made it to the top of the steps after he caught his balance, Armad was greeted by two more guards brandishing blaster rifles. Neither of them looked directly at him as he walked past them.

“Stand here.” His captor told him with a jerk on the back collar of his coat. Armad obliged and looked around at the decor of the foyer. Simple and inviting, probably meant to visitors feel more at home and less like they were prisoners, he thought to himself. Armad focused his attention on the next room he could tell that there was at least five other beings in the next room, with probably around half a dozen guards in the other rooms. Armad could hear muffled voices coming from that room, and at least one of them was displeased with his guard. At one point Armad heard one of the others yell, “How dare you presume to know what Leader wants!” Silence followed that outburst and Armad could only assume was Leader calming his subordinate and telling the guard to bring him before them. He knew that he was correct when the guard came to get him and roughly shoved him into the room. Armad was ready this time and had started to walk just before the guard went to shove him. This gave Armad the opportunity to enter the room, as the guard was thrown off balance.

Armad could feel the hatred burst from the guard and without taking a look, knew that he wanted to punish the Umbaran for humiliating him in front of his boss. Armad was about to react to inevitable attack when a female, sitting in a plush chair along the back wall, raised a hand that stopped the guard from attacking.

“That is no way to treat a guest,” she said sweetly, gesturing for Armad to step forward.

Armad stopped at the center of the room, and gave the woman a respectful bow while trying to get a sense of her through the Force. From what he was able to glean from her emotions was that she was trying to put on an air of confidence and sincerity, but he could feel underlying emotions of worry, deceit, and an very large sense of superiority over those she commands. Straightening from his bow, “What is this place?” he queried, still standing in place with his hands clasped behind him.

“This is Haven. A place of refuge for those that have either had their homes or livelihoods destroyed from the devastation that befell us, or escape from those trying to take advantage of them.” She declared. Armad heard the guard barely snort at that speech, which made him rethink his immediate acceptance of her speech as a good thing and realized that this was probably a front of some sort.

“So this is a front of some kind? Who do you work for, and where can I find them?” Armad enquired, surveying where everyone was at in the room. “And why do you call yourself Leader? Is that a code name?” Armad finished and brought his hands around in front of him and pulled his blaster pistol out.

At this point, he could feel the shock as it rippled through the room. The woman jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “Why aren’t you restrained, and why are you still armed!” The guard behind him stammered through some unintelligible words before lifting his blaster rifle towards Armad. The Battlemaster quickly turned and fired a bolt into his chest, dropping him and his rifle to the ground. Quickly turning back around, Armad saw the woman try to make a dash for one of the side doors, but he aimed in front of her and fired a shot off, stopping her in her tracks.

“Nope, have a seat,” he intoned, gesturing back to her plush chair with his blaster. Three other guards rushed into the room pointed rifles at him, but they didn’t fire when they noticed that he was aiming at their boss. “Drop ‘em and back up against the wall,” he instructed as he looked over his shoulder at them. When they didn’t immediately do as he asked, he looked back at the woman with a scowl.

“Do as he says,” she instructed her guards. Sitting back down in her chair, she asked. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Someone not to be trifled with.” Armad coldly stated as he pulled his comlink out of his pocket. “Warhost Null from Shadow.” Getting a response, Armad continued. “Null send a couple of squads and an interrogation unit to my location.” Armad put his comlink away before the affirmative was even given, then turned his attention back to the woman in her chair. Her wide eyes betrayed her panic and fear that Armad could feel coming off her in waves. “Now that that is out of the way, why don't you tell me who your boss is Leader.” He said as he shifted his aim off her and at the three guards against the wall.

“Why should I tell you? If we are just going to end up like that guard you killed.” She countered, some of her courage had returned as she was calmer and motioned toward the guard behind him lying in heap.

Not breaking eye contact, “Oh him, he sucker punched me.” Armad's blank expression never wavered, but her smile disappeared. At that moment the sounds of transports arriving, as if punctuating his meaning. “Ah, now we can get started.” A feral smile blossomed on his face as he advanced toward her.

We should have known, we should have thought about it It was right in front of our faces the whole time, it was Now we're dying left and right and only now do we realize The Grandmaster, the big bad, of course he has plot armor

Kordath Bleu sat in silence, cigarette burning in one hand, bottle in the other. He had a prime view from the out cropping he'd chosen as his perch for the battle below. Four armies had taken the field, three working alongside one another as best they could with the lack of trust between them. It was hard to believe a Clan of Dark Jedi wouldn't opportunistically stab an ally of convenience in the back when the time was right.

Not that it had mattered, assaulting the forces of the Iron Throne on their own ground had been daring, a distraction for those who'd been sent to confront the Grandmaster. Kordath wasn't a warrior and he wasn't an assassin. He sat and watched as the Iron Legion overran position after position, and waited for them to finish slaughtering the Resistance forces that had been arrayed against them. Eventually they'd reach him as well, he was certain. He intended to be good and drunk by than.

A lack of response from the team sent to hunt down Pravus was a telling sign. The Clans had overplayed their hands, this was the end.

He took a pull from his bottle, and waited.

Here lies Kordath Bleu, the one Ryn to foolishly stand up to the Iron Throne. He's survived by almost no one. As the Ryn was not a front line fighter, it is believed that anyone he cared for or loved was killed before he himself was struck down.

When the three Clans, allied in goal if not ethics and belief, finally got their act together and went to go on the offensive they found themselves facing a formidable foe. Pravus had more than enough time to marshal his forces. Some even speculated that his actions against Plagueis and Taldryan had been specifically to draw out a reaction of this sort, an ill planned assault on his fleets and armies.

As such things did not go well for the forces of Plagueis, Tarentum and Arcona. Many, many lives were lost in the initial assault and the extended withdraw. The alliance fell apart, their forces returning to their respective home systems to await the Grandmaster's retaliation.

The lass, though young, broke free from her cage She was merely 9 years of age Despite the parents that gave her away Alara Deathbane sent her captives to their grave

She takes orders from no one, Save her young sis Even Jedi in temple could not tame this miss Her anger was too fierce, with kill in her kiss

The young born assassin became a young knight She’s Sergeant to sister, she’s first in the fight Many fear her eyes that hold strength and might Alara Deathbane , the girl with fire in her eyes

The girl with thick heritage has more to face More battles to fight, more to learn of her race Her footing still quivers, but no matter the place Alara Deathbane, Force Power she’ll embrace

And though trials she faces get harder with time There’s no mountain summit that she won’t climb She’s human and Sephi, muscle and cunning combined This Knight has more to come, she’s still in her prime

He will never die No matter how we try He remains alive

Pravus goes pew pew pew Killing Jedi two by two It's too bad nobody knew About his powerful kazoo

Pravus has the power Every minute and every hour To destroy and devour All that is sweet and sour