- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Inserted tally
Fallen Empires -- An Old Republic Era adventure (Star Wars)
- Thread starter Gazetteer
- Start date
- Sci-Fi Fantasy
Wiadi
Uncompromising Radical Leftist
- Location
- Something Clever
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Agree to put your weapon away
Yeah let's maybe try and de-escalate the situation, since frankly I don't think having our weapon out will give us a meaningfully better chance of victory if she decides to go on the offense.
Yeah let's maybe try and de-escalate the situation, since frankly I don't think having our weapon out will give us a meaningfully better chance of victory if she decides to go on the offense.
- Location
- America
[X] Insist she explain what's going on first
- Location
- ⇙
[X] Insist she explain what's going on first
- Location
- St. Petersburg
"one"
Also, an earlier instance from the 13th update:
from the first... what?
Number of headpats given to evil Sith for doing a good job: 1.
Yes, I am going to keep a tally.
No, but the Force is, and they are wielded together. Don't sweat the details, Elra.
[x] Agree to put your weapon away
As much as I enjoy rampant paranoia about our Jedi colleagues, I think there have been enough inconsistencies with how we imagined the story went, to take a break and get to talking.
It'd be so much easier if she started talking instead of stabbing because it was "imperative". In the end, it only achieved wasting more time.
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[X] Agree to put your weapon away
- Location
- Internet
[X] Agree to put your weapon away
- Location
- United States
[X] Agree to put your weapon away
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
It's an expression. It means "from the start", "to begin with".
[X] Insist she explain what's going on first
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Having a certain amount of experience with fencing training, there is another thing to consider: the vast majority of training involving sword combat is upright-blade-vs.-upright-blade, right-handed-vs.-right-handed. Anything that deviates from that norm requires more active concentration on your bladework/footwork. And it's one thing when you're facing a left-handed opponent, then your attention basically just has to switch hands; when it's a reverse-grip, the training you've gone through no longer helps you accurately predict where a blade is going by watching body movement, and the unusual movement the blade takes on in that kind of grip is...a lot...for someone who's received just standardised training to handle. So if your opponent is, say, a greenie padawan who's never really had to fight for her life or faced anything beyond regimented Order/Temple life, a grip like that could be a simple but critical leg up.
Granted, Avress is also practicing a nontradional bit with her saberstaff, but again I imagine staff training is a bit more practiced/predictable than fucked-up grip choices. I forget where I read it/heard it, but someone once said that once you get past the distracting/intimidating bits of a staff, they're really not that hard to fight because so long as you know where one end is/where it's going, you by default* know where the other end is/where it's going. Reverse-grips and dual-wielders, on the other hand ... unless you've trained/fought against that before, it's gonna fuck with you.
*with blades like Ventress', that's not exactly the case, but the initial point stands.
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This is one of those things that's going to vary wildly by depiction, but my general assumption is that the plasma blade is lighter than an actual metal sword, but that it probably has some like... heft to it while it's ignited. Like, not paper-light at least.
I did not make the character also be left-handed for this specific reason, but I kind of like it as a combination now.
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- Location
- Canada
Eeeh
While it's true to a certain extent that fighting against someone unorthodox can be difficult because you aren't familiar with them the fact of the matter is that realistically fighting with a sword or swordlike object in reverse grip is more awkward for the wielder than it is for the opponent
The range you give up, the uncomfortable and inefficient movements necessary to execute and guard against many strikes, the inability to threaten the opponent to control space, the greater difficulty involved with putting any appreciable force behind your blows or countering the force of your opponent's
It's effectively a lot like trying to off balance your opponent by fighting with your arms restrained, it's really not worth it
The only readily apparent benefits I can think of is it might be more conducive to grappling, but you really wouldn't want it to be your default stance to approach someone armed with
The even weirder thing is that the reverse grip is oddly common in star wars amongst shien practitioners, the style supposedly developed for the purpose of blaster deflection and reflection
Which the reverse grip does absolutely nothing to benefit that purpose and in fact only hinders it
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yes, it's very silly, but is the kind of silly I find fun.
- Location
- Gotham
[X] Agree to put your weapon away
[X] Insist she explain what's going on first
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- She/They
So, I've got a bit of practical experience in this, having fought with a reverse sword a bunch of times against a variety of weapons. (Belegarth)
Reverse is amazing on defense. You don't need to flip your blade vertically to defend legs, the movements all come from what is basically a boxer's guard, and heavy weapons or blows are easy to shed or catch with the forte.
But the trade is that offense is almost non-existent. No range, no leverage, obvious angles of attack- the only sucess I've had on strikes from reverse are with a sort of praying mantis flick-stab, up and then straight out. And that's something that exposes your everything.
So tbh I find it a very practical style, if you are fighting like a Jedi.
019: Ghost
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Agree to put your weapon away: 19
Insist Amira put hers away first: 13
Insist Amira put hers away first: 13
Avress
You stare at Amira Rist, the woman you found in communion with the Force deep in this place of Darkness and corruption. Who your master had his doubts about, who has somehow let herself into this place where he couldn't. Despite all this, though, and despite the un-Jedi-like hue of her lightsaber, she'd certainly fought you like a Jedi should. Defensively, always seeking a peaceful resolution where one was at all possible. Never taking life where it might be spared. Can you say as much, right now?
Slowly, you lower your weapon, twin green blades snuffing out at once.
"You could have killed her!" Keel exclaims, fussing over Elra's prone form, crumpled as she is at the base of a wall. "What if she'd hit it wrong? Dammit, I liked you, why did you attack her to begin with?"
"What's going on?" you add.
Amira glances from Keel to you, the lion's share of her attention fixed on Elra. She hasn't put her weapon away, you notice, although she's not turning it on you. She seems to be trying to decide what to address first, raising a free hand to her mouth to worry at a finger with her teeth. It's an odd look, with a lit lightsaber still held in her left.
"Well?" Keel demands. "My sister—"
"That's not your sister!" Amira comes out with, apparently frustrated with trying to think of any more delicate a way of phrasing it.
You and Keel exchange a startled, skeptical look. "What are you talking about?" you ask.
"Possession is a well-documented ability," she snaps, still keeping her eyes on Elra.
"Of... what?" you ask.
Elra groans, pushing herself up to her knees. Her lavender hair has fallen in front of her yellow eyes. She peers up at you, and in that moment, the look is nakedly calculating. Seeing if you'll buy more lies, more deception. Deciding that you won't, she sighs, the gesture almost as sardonic as her tone. "I wonder: Are Padawans getting less easily manipulated, or am I losing my touch?"
"Enough games, spirit," Amira says, moving forward, pointing her lightsaber at Elra in clear challenge. She jerks her head at Keel. Frightened, the Pantoran man falls back from his twin, giving her more space.
"Oh, no games, Jedi," Elra says, raising both empty hands. "You've quite figured me out. I've been considering what to do about that — honestly, trying to pit the child against you was a little desperate."
You bristle at that. Amira only sighs. "She's possessed by a Dark Side apparition," she says, for Keel's benefit and yours. "An echo of a long-dead—"
"Oh, say ghost when you mean ghost," Elra interrupts. "Jedi," she adds disdainfully.
Realising what she's saying, you ignite your weapon again, putting the saberstaff between you and the thing in Elra's body. Keel just stares, utterly blindsided.
"What do you want, then, ghost?" Amira asks, finally.
"To walk out of this place and see something of the Galaxy again," the ghost says. "Or at least, to leave. I don't even know how long I've been down here. But it would seem, while I can resist the pull of my confinement this much, I am incapable of going too far from this place. Perhaps it's merely this body's connection to the Force being so negligible."
"... that's my sister, not a 'body!'" Keel says, finding his voice again. "Give her back!"
The ghost regards him with Elra's eyes, something — displeasure, shame? — flitting across her eyes. "It is a particularly pathetic sort of monster, who must steal the bodies of the young and vibrant to cling to life, isn't it?" There's the sense of a dark, private joke somewhere in that statement, and the mere fact that this Sith thing can derive any sort of humour from this situation sickens you. "The truth is," the ghost continues, "if I leave her flesh, I'm quite certain that I'll end up snapping right back to where I was before she started poking around, and let me out." She's referring to Amira.
"What place?" you demand. "Speak quickly, Sith."
"An ancient device, beyond this door," Amira says, pointing to the stone monstrosity behind her. "There are more like her trapped within. Some sort of prison for the souls of dead Sith."
"I was alive, at the time," the ghost offers. "I suspect that by now — however long it's been — that point has been rendered moot enough, however. Very good, though. Sensing that much would have required a more... holistic approach to the Force than most Jedi are capable of." There's an odd, appraising note in her tone, behind the approval. Even where it's not directed at you, your skin crawls.
"It's a prison," Amira says, pushing past that. "Yet you escaped."
The ghost shrugs Elra's shoulders. "I have always had a... talent for spirits," she says. "Perhaps it's given me more control than most, even now."
"Why are we even talking to it?" you ask Amira. "It's a Sith! A Sith ghost!"
The ghost looks from your face, to your activated lightsaber. "If not talk, what would you have instead? Strike this body down in anger, hoping that I die along with it? To save you the trouble: I won't. There are ways of destroying my kind, but that is not among them."
"If this creature is willing to speak instead of fight, don't borrow trouble, Padawan," Amira tells you, sternly.
You stare at her, a little indignant. "... Didn't you attack it first, Jedi Knight Rist?" you ask.
Amira flushes a little. "That... I... Regardless!" she says. "Whatever the prison's purpose, it's becoming unstable. This planet is growing stronger with the Dark Side all the time. We must act quickly to destroy it, before it can fall into the wrong hands." She looks over your group with a fresh frown. "Where is your master?" she asks. Then, with an air of being embarrassed not to have found this out earlier, adds: "... also, who?"
She didn't ask for your name, but you give it anyway. "I am Padawan Avress Dar," you say. "My master is Jedi Knight Jorden Venn. He is... we were attacked at the entrance. He stayed behind to aid..." What to call Skylah? "... a woman who Keel brought to open the way for him, when he came for Elra."
Amira gives Keel a searching look. "A Sith?" she asks.
"Skylah's not a Sith," he says, with utter conviction. "Weird eyes for a human, and she's got a lightsaber, but she's not a Sith."
You look a little dubious. Certainly, she doesn't act the way you'd imagine a Sith to behave. You recall her protecting you from blaster fire, rather than getting herself to safety. But, at the same time... you cast a suspicious glare in the ghost's direction. You've already been fooled once, haven't you?
Amira, though, betrays a brief start of surprise at the name. "Red?" she asks.
"... What?" you and Keel both look at her in confusion.
"Eyes," Amira says, waving a hand impatiently at her face, as if to indicate them. "Hers. Skylah's. Are they red?"
"Yes?" Keel offers, a little blankly.
Amira blinks, processing this. "The Force works as it wills," she murmurs. Before you have a chance to demand an explanation, she turns back to the ghost: "Will you leave Elra's body if she can destroy the prison binding you to this place, spirit?" she asks.
The ghost thinks about that with a keen expression. "One way or another," she decides.
Amira gives her a hard look, odd to see on her soft features. "Can you tell me how to open the door, then?" she asks.
"Yes," the ghost agrees. "But I don't think it will do you any good if I do."
"Why not?"
"Because it only responds to old Sith blood," the ghost replies. She uses Elra's Pantoran eyes to glance around your little group, seeing two near-humans and an Alderaanian. "Not a quality I think any of us presently possess."
Amira thinks about that again. Then she nods, looking oddly pleased. "The Force provides," she says, inexplicably.
"What are you blathering about now?" the ghost asks.
Amira ignores the question. A habit of hers, it seems. "What should we call you?" she asks the ghost.
"Well..." the ghost begins, tapping a blue finger against Elra's chin. "I will assume that 'Dark Lord' is out of the question." At the hard looks you and Amira give her in return, she sighs. "As you wish, then. I had numerous names and titles in my lifetime. You, however, may call me Imperius."
==========
Skylah
You can't suppress a twinge of disquiet as Brenby's lightsaber lashes out, swift as red lighting, to cut down the unaware sentry. As the man falls to the forest floor, no alert or answering cry goes up to betray his actions. You've killed someone too, today. And you're well aware of the kind of attitude toward killing that Sith training instills in those who survive it. It's still not great to watch.
"Doesn't it bother you?" you whisper.
"Killing when necessary? Of course not," Brenby says. At least it's not as scornful as he was earlier.
The two of you have made your way to the ruins, approaching slowly, creepingly by foot, trying to avoid the sentries that he and Jyte left behind when they'd captured you and Jorden earlier. The night is thick with the songs of insects, the call of strange wildlife, the air heavy and cool on your skin. There is no moon overhead, only the stars, and the glow of the city on the horizon.
"No," you say, shaking your head. "Not just killing. Killing him. Or those pilots. People who worked with you. Under you?"
This is the part where he scoffs, talks about how compassion is a weakness. A chain that must be broken, along with all the others, to true freedom in the Force. He doesn't follow that script, though. "... harder than I thought it would be," he says, almost too low for you to catch. Seeming to realise he's just been vulnerable, if only for an instant, you feel the invisible weight of his Force Sight fall back onto you in full. Once again he doesn't turn around. "What about you and Jyte?" he asks.
"I didn't kill her," you point out.
"Yes. And do you regret that now?"
"No." You say it immediately, without strong thought. You feel the truth of it in your gut. "Even if things worked out that way, it was the right decision. Not just for her... for me. I don't want to be the kind of woman who executes helpless prisoners."
Brenby gives off a sense of confusion. He can't understand the mindset you're describing to him. And... that's not his fault, you suppose. "I suppose that sort of nonsense is why I actually believe you won't turn on me," he says, sounding like he's doubting his own sanity.
You grin at his back, trusting in the insight of his Force vision to carry the feel of it to him. "I believe you won't turn on me too."
"... why?" he asks, a genuine question.
You tilt your head, a little thoughtful as you consider that. "I told you. I can't expect you to trust me if I don't do the same. Maybe you will turn on me anyway, but I really hope you won't. It's good to be able to rely on someone else, sometimes."
Brenby shakes his head, unsure what to do with this kind of unfamiliar sentiment. "Come on," he says, instead.
The two of you continue forward for some time, until he stops you with a raised hand. You silently come to a halt, watching where he points. Through the trees, to your left, you see what he's indicating: Another trooper, standing watch. Beyond them, the ruins. There's a ring of such troopers, with this only being the nearest link. You'll have to go through them.
You know what Brenby wants. It's the practical thing to do, and there are people depending on you, trapped in those ruins.
==========
What do you do?
[ ] Kill the guard quickly and quietly — you can do what's necessary
[ ] Make Brenby do it, despite what he just told you
[ ] Try for a non-lethal takedown — this will make noise
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