Sands of time Finale - a Naga Sadow Event

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Sands of time Finale - a Naga Sadow Event

A News Post, closing out the Sands of Time event with a nice bit of fiction, talking about placements in individual events and overall winners (but we're all winners, right?) and thanking everyone who took part in making the event a success.

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Secret chamber
Somewhere
Moraband

The hyposyringe extended out from his glove, the ichor dripping from it’s tip as her grey form writhed against Mactire and Firith’s grasp, Lilith’s hands trying to cradle a thrashing head. Macron grimaced as he tried to aim the integrated injector into one of the Twi’Lek’s veins. Her rapid shift into grey hadn’t made it any easier for him, either. The needle drew a line of ruin on her skin as she rolled away, the blood pouring a noxious color as Macron swore under his breath, reaching up with a closed fist and cracking it against her jaw.

She stilled for only a moment, but it was enough. The venom pressed into her blood, swirling in the transparisteel before evacuating into her veins. The click of the injector disengaging from his fingertip was followed by the shattering of the glass on the stone below. She howled for a moment, a shrill and panicked plea before she fell silent.

They all stood there for a moment, slowly shifting their gaze from her to the alchemist. Lilith’s eyes darted between her and him frenetically, her hand reaching toward her side. “What have you done?”

Macron’s eyes twinkled in the corners, raising into a smile as he twisted his arm closer to his belt. The grey in the clan was a bit more than worrisome, as of late, and the Sith in him could barely tolerate it. Firith stood up, positioning himself between the two of them, handing back the flask with a nod. “That was quite decent, lad.” he chuckled, an obvious attempt to diffuse the tension, even as his other hand kept from the madman’s view. “Any more where that was hid?”

“She’s not breathing.” Lilith snarled, waving a hand in front of the Twi’Lek’s mouth. “What did you do?”

Macron chuckled, turning away from the pair as he inventoried the room mentally. “A little something something.” He muttered to himself as he stared at the artifacts on the sarcophagus again. “My lunch smoothie. Sith poison, cut with the venom of a few beasties from the old worlds. And a touch of blue milk, just for the curdle. I have another dose if you want a taste, Firith.” He watched the man shudder as he thought about it.

“Poison?” Lilith snapped, letting her hand rest across Tasha’s forehead. “Won’t that kill her?”

Macron snorted. “Eventually, maybe. But right now, it is keeping something else in check. So we have to figure out what got her.” He stared at the book, the dust still intact, then moved onto the blade. “Any of these could be the thing. Did any of you bring one of Muz’s little handy crates?”

“What?”

“Those shiny little boxes, all carved up with the old tongue.” Firith interjected. “Yeah, but we’ve been packing kinda light since we fell down here.”

“Well, lovely.”

LZ-623
-13°9'47.31", -72°32'41.87"
Moraband

“Good to see you in one piece, Consul.” Bentre smiled as the two pushed back hoods. Sanguinius and Locke had been working their way toward their position for some time now, and the sand streaked across their faces showed it.

“Yeah, not for lack of this place’s trying.” Sanguinius accepted the canteen offered by one of the soldiers gracefully. “I really don’t quite understand why you guys always seem to find the most terrible locations to hide your treasure. Can’t some Sith Lord have built a tomb on Naboo, just once?”

Ashia stood up, lifting her palm from the ground as she rose. “We aren’t even close to done yet.”

Shikyo laughed as he pointed at the horizon, a swarm of grey roiling in the space between mountains, massing as it seethed toward them, a tidal wave of rage and grey. “I was wondering when they’d be back.”

Sang’s eyes went wide. “There has to be thousands…”

Bentre cracked his knuckles, smiling. “Target-rich environment.” Shikyo laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Come on, little greyling. You didn’t want to live forever, did you?”

The sound of lightsabers igniting filled their ears.

Secret chamber
Somewhere
Moraband

Macron snorted, motioning to his droid as he disconnected some pieces from the back of his armor, snapping them together as gears and hinges clattered together like well-made clockwork. “This will do the trick, but it’s not going to be able to hold everything in here. That book is too big entirely, but it doesn’t look like she touched it. The knife though…”

“She wasn’t anywhere near that bloody coffin.” Mactire stepped forward, trying to retrace her steps in the thin veneer of sand on the floor. A miniature dune scraped by bootprints fell into his gaze. He reached out to touch it, but felt the burn of his fingers remind him of what Tasha had happen to her. “I got something.”

Macron stepped quickly, eyes taking it in. “What the frell is that thing?”

“Looks like some sort of kid’s toy.” Mactire grunted. “A doll, maybe?” He watched as Macron tilted the crate sideways, using it as a dustpan as he pushed it closer to the artifact.

“What kind of Sith Lord puts all of that power into a dolly?” Lilith snarked, watching them as she wove her healing through Tasha. Macron narrowed his eyes at her and then turned back to the work, nudging the box over to the doll with the tip of his boot inch by inch. The hard clay clattered along the side, tumbling into the box, as Macron let out an exhale. Kicking it as gently as his boots could afford, he turned it right side up, and the lid swung shut, the ratcheting sound of seals engaging. “I hope you’re right…”

Tasha’s breath came raggedly and suddenly, a gasp as though she had been below water for hours. Lilith bounced backward, her nurturing nature overridden by the all-too-fresh memory of what she had only recently become. Tasha choked for a moment, then slowly turned to her side, pushing herself back up to her feet, growing bluer by the moment.

The screech of something bigger echoed back through the chamber, shaking dust from the ceilings. Macron growled. “Where is Ashia when I need her?” It bellowed again, the thumping of it, wherever it was, reverberating through the stone.

“Yeah, definitely time to go.” Tasha croaked as she limped toward the door.

Firith grunted at the droid. “Ye have been mapping the whole time ye ha’ been doon here, aye?”

22 looked at him. “So now, the Meatbag finds me useful?”

LZ-623
-13°9'47.31", -72°32'41.87"
Moraband

Shikyo twisted his blade, spinning as he cleft another head from shoulders, the pile of dead around him beginning to limit his mobility. He was aware of Ashia nearby, but he couldn’t see her through the swarm. Locke and Sang were further yet, and even the Nihilgenia were firing at point blank now. Shikyo smiled as he reached into the wellspring of the Force, summoning the strength as he tore a hole through their ranks.

Ashia watched the telekinetic blast leave a wake of disembodied grey limbs and chaos, her own blade tearing through the eye socket of one of the greys. Something twitched at the edges of her awareness, a twist in the ether that nagged her. She spun, a trail of cauterized flesh tearing through their bodies as her eyes picked up the change of the tide. Their skin started to slough off, evaporating to dust and bones and falling to the floor like marionettes with their strings cut. She smiled, bouncing back toward the other Keibatsu, blades covering her movement.

“I’m going to guess that someone found the toy we are after.” Shikyo snapped, spinning his hilt in his hand before sliding it home on his belt. Ashia just looked at him, the unsaid words twisting between them as Bentre stepped forward, soaked in grey and sweat.

“What in the…”

Ashia turned to look at him, azure eyes focusing beyond him. They all turned, seeing the distinctive crimson armor of the Alchemist as it screamed toward them on his speeder, Tasha holding onto him with what little strength remained. Locke looked to Shikyo, the unasked question writ large on his face.

Shikyo pointed to the ship, then angled his head at Sang. There were speeders on the ship, and the others would need a lift. Ashia moved toward the craft, the plan already coming into play.

“And the others?” Sanguinius recalled the Night Hawks, their downed transport. Ashia turned, looking at him, with half a smile playing across her lips as she said two syllables.

“Riku.”

Three Hours Later
LZ-623
-13°9'47.31", -72°32'41.87"
Moraband

The camp loomed near as the three approached. Their footsteps lost in the churning of the sand as they pushed their way up the final incline. All at once the clicking of safeties met their eyes and as one by one they looked up they took in the muzzles of Nihilgenia rifles pointed directly at them. The black armoured troopers holding the rifles gave nothing away and each of the three survivors took a step back down the slope as they began to realise there was to be no give from the troopers. Darkhawk rested his hand uncomfortably upon the hilt of his saber and seeing his action Sabe began to cock her own rifle. Mactire just stood back, not making a move. Not wishing to draw attention to himself after the events in the tomb.

“What the kriffing hell is the meaning of this?” Sabe shouted up at the looming soldiers. Nothing but the wind had met his ears in the minute the standoff had taken place. “We’re members of Naga Sadow, like you! Lower your damn weapons!”

Her response was met with nothing but the stony stare of the clones. Finally a stirring from the camp and members of the Nihilgenia parted, allowing a black armour clad figure to approach. Clawed boots struck the sand as the Keibatsu’s cloak trailed behind him.Long black hair rested upon his shoulders and disappeared somewhere down his back. She recognised him immediately and looked to her left as Darkhawk began marching once more up the hill towards the men.

“Now listen here you, why are these men still pointing their guns at us. Have them lowered and let us in…” the Sith almost snapped at the Aedile. He stopped when he noticed Riku raise a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “You dare ask me to be quiet? After your men hold us at gunpoint?”

“Perhaps I failed to make myself clear with the gesture, or perhaps and this may be more likely, you are too stupid to understand the gesture. I said be quiet. It’s not difficult, those two others appear to understand the motion well enough,” he gestured and Darkhawk looked over his shoulder towards his two compatriots. As he did he took in the four shapes that moved down the bank towards them. More Nihilgenia. “Now my men will disarm you, if you fail to comply then my men will shoot you. Then perhaps you can inform us exactly who you are?”

The last words took Darkhawk aback. Sure it had been some months since Riku had arrived, and the war but he doubted his Aedile would forget him that quickly. A small scuffle broke out from behind as the Nihilgenia attempted to remove Sabe’s rifle from her but after a scuffle and a rifle butt to the cheek she relinquished.

“What on earth do you mean who I am? You know fine who I am! Darkhawk, leader of the Night Hawks.”

“So you say.”

“What? So I say? Of course I say!”

“Remove your headgear, especially that ridiculous cowl you’re wearing. Then we shall see if you speak the truth.” Riku’s hand moved down to his side and it was at this time Darkhawk’s eyes trailed to the heavy chains that wrapped down one side of the Aediles armour ending in a heavy inscribed tome hanging at his side. The clones hand rested upon it and before the Sith could query anything more he felt a pair of hands grapple around his shoulders, as another pair moved into to rip his weapons away and then his cowl.

Darkhawk felt the stare next to him as he was checked over and he looked up towards Riku. “What is the meaning of this?” The wind bit into his faces exposed flesh.

“It’s simply really, I would of thought even you could of put it together. We’re ensuring you are who you say you are instead of one of those things,” the Aediles words cut deep but Darkhawk was smart enough to see the truth in the matter. They had spent enough time in the tombs, who knows what influences may have rubbed off. He looked over his shoulder towards Mactire who fidgeted in place as he was checked over. Suddenly the Nihilgenia moved away from the group and signalled something to the Keibatsu. “Put them in cuffs and escort them to the shuttle. We’ll do a thorough investigation on route home.”

“And if we don’t pass your scrutiny, what then? Gonna flush us out an airlock?” Sabe had finally spoke up as her arms were pulled back and cuffs were put in place.

Riku turned to her, something in his eyes danced and it made the woman uneasy. “If she so wills it. Yes.”

“This isn’t what a leader does! He doesn't turn on his own people or treat them like prisoners!” The woman piped up again. “A good leader…”

“Remind me, any of you, please do remind me. Where exactly are the men assigned to you? I see only three of you!” His gaze met them each in turn. “Besides the ones at the crash site no one else returns. So don’t you dare spout nonsense at me about being a good leader. At least my men returned!”

Silence met them all once more and with a curt nod the Nihilgenia led the three away towards one of the waiting transports. Mactire seemed to fidget the most as they were led away. His eyes locked with Riku’s as he passed and a fleeting thought entered his mind as he was led away.

“Who...who’s name? Grand Master Ashen’s? No, no that's not a she.”

But it was too late, Riku had already turned away from the three and walked away towards his command tent. The sand began to swirl once more and Mactire looked out of the window as the transport they were loaded into shut its doors and left the area. Leaving the swirling sands of Moraband behind them for the time being.

A day later
Ragnos Cathedral
Kar Alabrek
Tarthos

Macron stepped forward, the crate vibrating in his hands as he set it down. Muz raised a single hand, letting the ethers still as Macron stepped from the room, joining him and the Summit on the other side of the thick transparisteel. Automated scanners descended from the apparatus above, releasing the latches and seals to expose the clay figurine, half buried in ancient sand.

"This is more than a little useful, I am telling you." Darkblade let the pleasure creep up one side of his mouth. "Just think, all we have to do is take this to Judecca, Karufr, hell, even Arx..."

"And what, make a hard fight even worse?" Sang shook his head. "You weren't there, you don't know how much harder it made them."

Darkblade swung his head, watching the scientist enter the chamber, a hazmat suit covering him, the thick tube trailing behind him providing him with his own air supply. "That is really my point, Sanguinius. We will have stolen their armies from them. Even their basic troops would be so much more effective."

"I don't think that they can be controlled as easily as all that." Sang shrugged.

Locke looked up at Muz, intently watching the scientist approach the doll as Darkblade continued. "Well, we are going to need a lot of time to research, to sort it out."

"That could take years." Sanguinius muttered.

"And?" Darkblade laughed "What else did you have going on? Some Sith Lord didn't make an artifact to make an army he couldn't control... and that can be ours now. Nothing could stop us..."

The thump of helmet beating transparisteel interrupted them, spinning them around suddenly. The scientist, grey beneath the faceshield and hazmat helmet, threw himself against the wall again, a smear of grey ichor smudging the inside of his helmet. He reared back, smashing himself against the clear substrate that separated them from him in a futile rage.

Darkblade and Sang both stared for a moment. Locke turned, eyes wide as he reached for his commlink, bellowing for a medical team. Muz twitched his fingers, sealing the case again, the gears engaging to bury the toxic doll under the rites and force powers of his own make. The final seal snapped shut, and the scientist dropped to his knees, then fell over on his side. Locke pressed through the door, sliding up to the scientist. Locke barked at the EMTs as they showed up, refusing to lose another scientist on this endeavor.

Muz stepped past them as they stripped off his mask, clearing his airways and starting compressions. Lifting the Crate with the Force, he pulled it to him even as it started to shake, carrying it past the mayhem, through the narrow hallways, past the substrate printer, already at work making a replica of the doll from the initial scans. He made his way through the dim, down into the dark, past doors that clacked and unsealed at his approach, into chambers that knew who he was and vibrated in equal parts terror and rage for it.

The crate grew still, then erupted into furious motion as Muz lifted it with the unseen hand, pushing it across a security grid, through momentary gaps in shields that burned angry. It slid in, next to a hundred other crates, each bearing the same runes and sigils, clattering as they interfered with each other, the security matrices sealing them as surely as the heavy doors that locked shut as the Lion left.

Fin

muzdivider

And so ends the Sands of Time event. We hope that you enjoyed it, and thank you for participating in it.

RESULTS:
Lurking in the Sands (multimedia)
1.) Ashia
2.) Firith
3.) Tasha

What Lies Beneath (Mapmaking Multimedia)
1.) Firith
2.) Tasha

Terrors from the Deep (Joint Fiction)
1.) Ashia/Shikyo
2.) Tasha/Macron
3.) Lilith/Firith

Relics and Antiquities (wiki)
1.) Firith
2.) Tasha
3.) Lilith

OVERALL (Locke already announced it, but hey.)
1.) Firith 2.) Tasha
3.) Ashia

That was a heck of a showing for a little fun event. Thanks again for giving up some of your precious free time to come play in this sandbox. As usual, any feedback or anything can be sent directly to our emails. Thanks again!

Have fun!

muzfooter

This was a lot of fun. It was good one for me to get back into things. Looking forward to the next adventure!

Enjoyed the storyline, nice change of scenery and theme.

It was a pleasure to work with the others and try to see them in my mind's eye. Thank you for the fun.

I enjoyed working with people and helping create a wonderful piece of fiction for characters. That you for creating this event.

Hey, it was an enjoyable bit to grade. I hope we will see even more people take part in whatever we come up with next. I am glad that our participants seemed to enjoy themselves, whether they did everything or just the bits that particularly appealed to them. Rock on, CNS.

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