#Go zerek

[stormtheartistsstuff]

When the Necromes attacked Sadida, everyone had a tole to play in the battle. Zerek’s part was to keep Rotalstrom back until they were able to send them away, or defeat him completely. As for how that went, I will simply say it did not go as planned.

[meeeeeeese]

Back in the old times

A look at Zerek's life as a primus, back before the personal story began. In which Zerek has a sparring session with his most difficult, and most successful student.

(August belongs to @commanderhorncleaver go check him out, I command you)

Zerek stood in the training yard, sword and shield at the ready, looking out through his armoured facemask at his young charge. Across from him his apprentice, a pale yellow furred charr with a flowing reddish-brown mane dressed in a soot grey ash legion uniform, one that had clearly been altered to be far more revealing of his legs and chest. Zerek narrowed his eyes, the cub was showing off, again. His apprentice gave him a cocky smile.

"What are we waiting for old man, let’s get going already"

He stood in a slouched position, playfully leaning on his staff waiting for the sparring to begin.

Zerek growled,

"we're getting started as soon as you assume a proper stance Augustus" Zerek Replied gruffly.

August rolled his eyes,

"Whatever you say old man" and he dropped into a battle stance, staff held in a defensive position. It was sloppy, but if Zerek waited for anything better, they might be there until after dinner. Zerek sighed, better get things started then.

"This match will continue until one of us is at the other's mercy. Use the spells I taught you, and don't involve bystanders. You won't always have weak minded souls around you to fight in your stead."

"Urgh, fine whatever. Let's go then!" And Augustus sprang into action, the tip of his staff blazing with crackling purple light as he swept it along the ground, unleashing a phantasmal wave of energy that swept across the sandy soil like a tidal wave. Zerek took a step forward, holding out his shield, ready to defend himself. Just before it struck, Zerek dashed into the wave, projecting a bubble of frozen time from his shield to break through the torrent of magic. As he emerged from the wave, Zerek called out to August,

"What was that supposed to accomplish? You know damn well such a diffuse attack won't penetrate my defences”.

But as he scanned the battlefield August wasn't anywhere to be seen, a distraction then. Still, wasteful if all he wanted to do was break line of sight, kicking up a cloud of dust would accomplish the same thing. Anticipating an imminent attack, Zerek plunged his sword into the ground and quickly drew a glowing circle into the soil. He concentrated for a moment and the glowing image of a well of precognition formed beneath him, a ticking sound echoed in his ears as time unwound before him. August would attack... -NOW! Zerek dodged to the right as his apprentice appeared from nothing and unleased a blast of telekinetic force that hurtled past the older mesmer, missing him and smashing into the far wall. Zerek quickly spun to face August and leapt at his apprentice, lunging with his blade forward. August quickly teleported backward, leaving a illusory copy behind that was rent in two as Zerek landed and slashed at the clone. At the same time a phantasmal copy of the mesmer emerged and lunged at the real August, who was readying another spell. August deflected the phantasm's blade with a burst of telekinetic power, crushing the illusion in his psychic grip. As the phantasm dissipated, there was a flash of purple and August spun around as Zerek blinked forward, ready to strike. August tried to dodge, but off-balance from the phantasmal assault, he was grazed by his master's blade leaving a bleeding gash in his side. Zerek drew back to land the finishing blow and August snarled as his eyes lit up and power swelled up within him. Just as Zerek's sword was about to find its mark, August unleashed the magic. A swirling vortex of agitated ether erupted from him, a crackling chaos storm of immense power that blasted his master back. As Zerek got back on his feet August growled,

"You're not gonna beat me that easily."

And chaos magic burst from his hands, tendrils of opalescent violet magic streaking from his outstretched paws. But they didn't fly towards Zerek, instead shooting across the yard to where another warband was training. Half a dozen charr froze momentarily as they were struck, then like puppets on a string, they jerkily started charging at Zerek.

He growled; would the cub never learn? Zerek focused for a moment as crackling violet magic enveloped him. Chaos magic was inherently destabilising to the fabric of space-time, and with the proper technique one could- Zerek plunged his mind into the timestream, draining out his power to form a rift, a nigh imperceptible anchor to which he could return. Then, he raced forward towards the oncoming charr, their eyes blank and stained with August's magic. Zerek's form blurred as he ran, splitting off into clones to pursue his errant apprentice.

Projecting another protective etheric shell from his shield as the mindjacked charr mobbed him, savagely battering the shield bubble as they mindlessly attempted to attack Zerek. While the shield held, Zerek quickly performed a small flourish with his blade, swirling it in a small circle that, following the movements of the blade, formed itself on the ground. The well of calamity sprang to life as the hands of an eroding phantasmal clock materialized in the centre of the well.

Temporal energy lashed out at the soldiers, their weapons rusted in their paws and their fur greyed out as the weight of history pressed down on them. But just as the well's power reached its zenith, Zerek's concentration was broken by a luminous barrage of iridescent chaos magic that shattered his shielding and smashed into his arm, burning and shocking and freezing all at once. Glancing at where the blow came from Zerek saw August, keeping easily ahead of the clones in pursuit, his staff ablaze with swirling chaos magic. And as August readied another blast, the mindjacked warband started climbing back onto their feet with awkward, jerky motions, newly aged teeth bared. As August fired another salvo of chaos blasts they lunged, and just before their fangs found their mark, Zerek thrust his sword upwards as the sound of distorted ticking filled the air, and he invoked his ultimate magic. An iridescent bubble formed around Zerek and the charr mobbing him. As the time warp took hold everything seemed to slow down, the mind controlled charr's movements rapidly decelerated, as if they were moving through a sea of molasses. And as their seconds stretched out into minutes, Zerek's was compressed into the milliseconds. He easily weaved out of the way of the charr, as if he were taking a stroll along the riverbank. Giving a thought to August's oncoming barrage, Zerek manifested a shield-wielding phantasm as he moved, ready to deflect the oncoming fire. Outside the bubble of altered time, August turned his attention to the clones on his tail, he knew there was no point trying to attack Zerek during that magic. He sidestepped their attacks as a beam of amethystine energy popped them one after another. No matter, they had done their duty, August was almost in position. Inside the time warp, Zerek knelt down at the now inactive well of calamity, transmuting its function, and reactivating it. The phantasmal image of the eroding clock repaired itself, and good as new, it began to tick backwards, undoing the damage of Zerek's assault and the lingering influence of August's mind control. Satisfied that the charr would suffer no lasting harm, Zerek glanced at his apprentice. August stood a good ten paces away, readying his next attack right next to Zerek's continuum rift. A small smile formed on Zerek's face, "Perfect" he thought to himself as he reached back through time to his anchor point, grasped hold of it with his mind, and tugged. From Zerek's perspective, the world shattered into glass and fell away, and he fell, a disembodied mind tumbling through a kaleidoscopic sea of infinite incomprehensible visions of the possible and the impossible before finally emerging back into reality, his body just as it was, refreshed and standing next to a very surprised looking August. August tried to blink away, but Zerek was faster. Without a moment's hesitation he activated the time warp again, and August's nigh instant spell casting stretched into the minutes. Zerek readied his blade, his form blurred as he struck again and again, cutting grazing wounds in August's side, legs and arms before a final blow went straight for August's neck, stopping mere milliseconds before a skewering could take place. Time returned to normal, but the two charr were still locked in place, Zerek's sword placed firmly against August's neck. After a moment so long, it felt like the time warp as still in place, Zerek sheathed his sword and raised his faceplate. August didn't need visual confirmation to see, but Zerek looked very disappointed in him.

"First, once again you relied solely on the raw magic you can bring to bear, using NONE of the spells I've taught you to your advantage. Secondly you broke one of my ONLY rules and attempted to have your lessers fight for you, and thirdly you were so focused on your own magic you neglected to pay attention to your opponents, you should know to pay attention to my chronomancy now, Augustus. It should be obvious, but you fail."

Behind Zerek the thoroughly dazed charr began to rise to their feet, coming to their senses they focused in on August, a look of fury on their faces.

Zerek continued, "Now, get out of my sight and reflect on what you can do better. I'd suggest you do so fast, I won't be helping if your victims catch up to you”.

August, still battered from the sparring match, opened his mouth to say something but, for once, wisely thought better of it and without a word he teleported away.

[ferrariking1949]

It was obvious that Zerek was going to betray Vess.

[jcmarchi]

Star Wars Outlaws Preview - Everything We Know About ND-5 - Game Informer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/star-wars-outlaws-preview-everything-we-know-about-nd-5-game-informer/

Star Wars Outlaws Preview - Everything We Know About ND-5 - Game Informer

The June 2023 reveal of Star Wars Outlaws gave us our first glimpse of Kay Vess and Nix, the two protagonists of the game. From talking with Massive Entertainment during our recent trip out to Sweden to get our hands on Star Wars Outlaws, it sounds as though their bond will be special. However, they aren’t on this journey alone, as they are joined by a trenchcoat-wearing BX-commando droid named ND-5. Though Kay and Nix were greater points of emphasis during our studio visit, we had to ask the developers about the internet-popular droid that joins the Star Wars Outlaws adventure.

ND-5 joins Kay Vess in her trip around the Outer Rim and beyond, but he has a long history in the Star Wars galaxy prior to meeting up with Kay. “He is a BX-commando droid – a veteran of the Clone Wars – and he works as an enforcer droid for a character named Jaylen,” associate narrative director John Björling says. “ND-5 is there to make sure that Kay follows through with the heist job, but together, they’re going to face some big challenges and really get to know one another.”

The job that Björling refers to is referenced in the latest story trailer (see below). At the start of her adventure, Kay crosses Sliro, the leader of the Zerek Besh criminal syndicate, resulting in him putting a bounty on her head. Jaylen Vrax and ND-5 drop in on Kay to offer her a path forward. The only way she sees out of it is to pull off the ultimate heist to earn her freedom.

[embedded content]

Since Kay meets ND-5 early on, he plays a crucial role in the story, as well as Kay’s mission to pull off this heist. Because he has experience in the Clone Wars and the criminal underworld, he’s a valuable asset to her. “He comes from the Clone Wars and he is wearing a lot of emotional kind of baggage from that,” Björling says. “He’s an enforcer droid and he’s seen a lot and he has a lot of experience in the underworld. Matching him up with Kay, it feels like the perfect kind of combination because she’s new to that world; she doesn’t know the key syndicates and the major players, but ND-5 is there to guide her and support her as they are moving towards the mark.”

The reveal of ND-5 inspired a lot of excitement, with much social media attention put on his design. “First of all, I was very excited to see the fans’ reactions to ND-5’s design; it was really great to have all these reactions, and I think it really added to his character,” associate art director Marthe Jonkers says with a smile. “For his design, we really had a similar approach as we did to all the other characters in really trying to show his background story in his look. So, of course, he’s a BX-commando droid. He was made by separatists during the Clone Wars. He’s been through a lot; you see that – he has a scar on his chest, but he tries to hide that with his jacket. You will find out more about him in the game, so I’m not going to spoil too much, but you know, he’s walking a bit [lumbering]. He’s usually sitting hunched over. And, you know, we tried to put a lot of personality into this droid by using these kinds of elements. I’m really happy that people really picked up on them and he became very popular. I think he’s a super interesting character and I’m looking forward to people playing the game and finding out more about him.”

ND-5 graces the box and key art of Star Wars Outlaws, all but guaranteeing he’s a major player in the game

Star Wars Outlaws arrives on PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X/S, and PC on August 30. For more exclusive information about Star Wars Outlaws, be sure to visit our exclusive coverage hub at the banner below.

[shadowchloe]

Coming in clutch at the last minute but I made it! Here's my entry in #DrawLoveWithLuphalia by the lovely @artbyluphalia! I decided to go with the option to use my own OCs for this one This one is admittedly a bit of a self-indulgent piece 😅 it features my self-insert D&D OC (or whatever the "proper" equivalent would be for a D&D character 😛) Lyria and her partner Zerek. I also uploaded both the night version and the day version cause I couldn't decide on which one was my favorite 🤷‍♀️ My commissions are open! Ko-fi, socials, shops, and support all linked here!

[swtorizz]

3, 5, and 15 for any oc ♥️♥️♥️

Thanks for asking ilu!!! Answers for my boy Zerek :)

3. if your character could romance anyone, regardless of class or npc status, who would they have romanced?

Were he not married to Risha, I would def pair him with Tora (Koth’s surly engineer). They go surprisingly well together?? When they meet and she says “where have you been all my life?” and he goes “shooting things!” Perfection.

5. are there any choices they wish they could’ve made? (redeeming vaylin, keeping scorpio, etc.)

Difficult to answer considering he isn’t in charge of any story decisions, but were he in a place to, he would not have shown the mercy to Arcann that the Commander did. 

15. do they consider themselves a hero?

Not in the slightest. Zerek is fully aware that his actions are usually selfish, out for only his and Risha’s best interests. That said, if someone not in their right mind wants to tell him he’s a hero, he won’t argue.

[storyknitter]

Fantasies & Illusions

Um, Theron’s mind isn’t a very nice place to be after he comes home from the Order of Zildrog, even after a good amount of time. Warnings for violence.

———

The latest intel on the Order of Zildrog, encrypted with the protocols that he and Lana had come up with so long ago on Rishi, transmitted to the Alliance at a snail’s pace and wasted time that Theron didn't have. If Atrius or Sixteen caught him—

“Why, hello, Shan. How's the Eternal Alliance doing today?”

Vinn's voice sent ice crackling up Theron's spine and he swore silently to himself, trying to figure out a good excuse for his actions. He looked up, fearlessly meeting his boss’s gaze in the monitor’s reflection despite his sinking stomach — he hadn't made it this far without a little bit of acting.

“Oh don’t bother coming up with an explanation. Sixteen and I have known since the beginning that you were playing the double agent card, even if your idiot girlfriend didn’t.”

Theron saw red at the insult to Vassanna, but kept his mouth shut; he didn’t trust himself with words and his mind scurried to come up with a new plan as Atrius continued his monologue.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t pay attention to the droid’s concerns about your loyalty?” the Zakuulan asked, not expecting an answer. “Maybe I'll wait to kill you until after you’ve watched your lover die, along with the rest of the Alliance.” Vinn let out an exaggerated gasp, hands on his cheeks in feigned incredulity, eyes wide. “Oh, and she'll die thinking you hated her — how fun!” The surprised look faded and a condescending smirk took its place as he crossed his arms. “By the way, we've been feeding you false information most of the time you were here. That abandoned listening post where you just sent your ‘sweetheart’ Commander? It's rigged to explode two minutes after the airlock is accessed.”

A shrill alarm blared from the console and Theron's heart raced, but he was frozen in place. No! he screamed to the Force. Sanna, get out of there!

“So: right now,” Vinn continued with a cocky grin, sarcasm dripping from every word. “How ignoble a death for the glorious Outlander.”

“Theron? Theron!” Her worried voice crackled through the speakers and he silently begged her to leave, to get out alive, to make a miracle happen — just once more. Please.

“Wake up, Shan,” Vinn said. “You’re dreaming if you think you could have beaten me. Besides, you’re not really good at saving people, hard as you might try. Let's count how many you've failed, shall we?” he said, ticking off a list on his fingers as Sanna desperately called for Theron in the background. “The man who raised you, the Twi’lek you claim as family, your mother, your father, your mentor at the SIS — not to mention your old colleagues who depended on you — and last, but not least, a Sith and Jedi. Two women: one friend, the other your lover. Best of all, they'll die thinking you betrayed them.”

No. Lana won't, he thought, but Sanna... I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Even if he could move, there was no time to attempt a shut down of the self-destruct: the hilt of an inactive lightsaber pike dug into his back.

Atrius’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and the listening post exploded in a massive fireball. As Theron watched helplessly, fury and hopelessness — his failure — choked him.

He knew there was no sweet-talking his way out of this now, no way to escape the Order alive — and no reason to, either. Letting out a desolate sigh, he initiated his backup plan, his last resort: Plan Zerek. He clicked his teeth together twice to turn his implants on, blinking the correct pattern to reconnect them to the holonet, and uploaded the virus he'd devised. It would hopefully take out Sixteen and weaken Zildrog, though he hadn't been able to test it. With that out of the way, Theron turned his focus to the man who had started this mess, who had destroyed everything he held dear.

Spinning on his heel, Theron swung his arm around with a vicious, rage-filled snarl, his hand curling into a fist. He struck Vinn in the face, then swept his feet out from under him in one smooth motion.

Before the zealot could move, Theron had him pinned to the ground, forearm digging into his throat. The spy reached for the small blade concealed in his boot but found it missing — where the hells had it gone? — so he resolved to simply choke the life out of this miserable bastard, leaning all his weight into it.

“Theron!” The gravelly gasp sounded like Sanna, but he had heard her voice everywhere since Umbara, so he didn't put much stock in it. “Theron, stop!” Vinn wasn't putting up much of a fight, which was surprising, but Theron was determined to put an end to the Order once and for all. He trapped the struggling hands against his chest, cooler and smaller than he'd expected.

Atrius managed to pry one hand away and reached up; Theron instinctively ducked his head to the side to protect his eyes and the palm landed softly on the back of his neck.

Theron! This time, it was definitely Sanna's voice in his head, prickly with fear and worry. Wake up. You're just dreaming, I promise. Wake up!

No, Vinn was just fucking with him, doing some sort of mind trick—

Theron. Please, please wake up. Then smaller, quieter: You're hurting me.

Dammit, Vinn had called his bluff: mind trick or not, he couldn't hurt her. Not again. He blinked once, twice, and the bastard he hated with every fiber of his being disappeared from view.

Theron found himself staring down into wide violet eyes. “Sanna,” he gasped, releasing his grip on her and scrambling backward out of the bed. He let out a string of obscenities laced with apologies, frantically asking if she was okay while putting as much space as possible between them.

He retreated to the cabin of the shuttle, his back against the control panels and staring at her in horror as real life filtered back into his consciousness: Vinn and the explosion had just been a nightmare. Theron replayed history in his head, running his hands down his face: Vinn Atrius wasn't really here, he was in Zakuulan custody, awaiting trial. Sixteen was dead, destroyed along with Zildrog. And Vassanna was safe.

Though not from him.

“I'm sorry,” Theron mumbled in a daze. “I'm so sorry I—”

“It's all right,” she croaked as she slowly approached, her hands up, pacifying. “It was just a dream. I'm here, you're all right.”

“Stop,” he hissed, covering his ears. Fucking hells, her voice sounded awful and he couldn't bear to hear it. And it wasn't all right; he'd just tried to strangle her, for fuck's sake.

Sanna gently took his elbow and her voice shimmered in the back of his mind. Theron, you're okay. It was just a dream, my sweet. How many times have I—

He slammed his mental shielding into place and yanked his arm out of her hand, effectively silencing her. He couldn’t meet her eyes, his gaze falling to her cheek, and a dark smudge developing beneath one of her chevron tattoos gutted him. Theron forced himself to look lower and thought he'd be sick when he saw the damage he'd done to her neck, bruises growing rapidly.

“Sit back down.” His words came out choked and cracked. “Please. Just... sit and I'll go get the kolto.” With hands clenched into tight fists, he tried to ignore why it was necessary. Theron retrieved the med kit, studying the case intently to avoid meeting Sanna’s gaze — her eyes had followed him across the shuttle, full of concern and perhaps pity, yet empty of fear or reproach.

As Theron applied the kolto to her skin, he nearly dropped the damned tube of gel twice because his stupid hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Sanna reached out silently, holding his wrist and steadying him. He should have been appreciative, but dammit, he’d caused this problem in the first place and he needed to fix it himself.

The bruises began to fade as the kolto worked to heal the damage he'd done. He tuned out everything else — including her — as he repacked the kit and placed it at the foot of the bunk.

“Theron,” she whispered, gently resting her hand on his arm. If she'd noticed that he flinched, she didn't show it. “Come back to bed, love.”

“No,” he bit out. “Thank you, I'm fine.” He stood, turning toward the cockpit, and threw himself into the pilot's chair. Soft footsteps padded across the durasteel floor, following before coming to a halt behind him.

“Theron—”

“I hurt you.” He wasn't about to give her the opportunity to let him off the hook for this. What he'd done was unforgivable.

“It was a dream. How many times have I lashed out in a nightmare over the years?”

“This is different.” Theron spun around to face her and found her hands propped on her hips, her mouth set in a thin line of concern.

“Why, because it's you and not me this time?”

The rattle in her voice made him want to pitch himself out the airlock. “It just is."

“Have you forgotten that I threw you into a wall the first time I stayed at your apartment, after Ziost?”

“Almost threw me into the wall. But fine,” he snapped, “we're even.”

“No, we're not,” she said, her words rising in volume to match his, “because we're not keeping score!” Sanna winced as her voice broke and the anger, the embarrassment, the shame Theron felt at what he’d done — sleeping or not — boiled over.

“I promised,” he roared, leaping up. “I swore to myself when we got back from Nathema that I would never hurt you again." He blinked to clear his blurry vision, his eyes prickling hot at the corners. "Ever. And now—”

“Well, that wasn’t a very logical promise.” Her matter-of-fact dismissal brought him up short, halting his self-reproach. “One day, you'll step on my toe or I'll catch your elbow while we're sparring or you'll accidentally say something little that wounds my pride.” Sanna reached out, caressing his cheek. “That’s not realistic, love. Perhaps it’s a vow better adapted by adding ‘purposely’ to it.”

He glared at her, grappling for a fault with her argument.

“Just promise not to leave me in an exploding train again and we'll call it good?” Her soft smile tripped his heart and he couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from twitching ever so slightly upward.

“Come back to bed,” she said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“No,” Theron said, sharper than he'd meant, and sighed. “I need another minute.”

Vassanna inspected him, brow furrowed in concern. With a small sigh, she nodded and kissed his cheek, back further than usual, almost to his ear. Her lips drifted as she stood on her toes, pressing a tender, reverent kiss near his temple. She shifted to kiss his shoulder, then the top of his forearm, followed by the side of his wrist.

Oh.

Theron caught on as Sanna pressed her lips to both of his palms: she was kissing all the places she'd accidentally struck him while in the clutches of a bad dream, either one of Vitiate's making or her own mind’s. She dropped one final kiss on the edge of his jaw and turned back to their bunk.

Before he could stop himself, Theron reached out, gingerly grasping her elbow with one hand, her chin with the other. He turned Sanna to face him and kissed the fading bruise on her cheek. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he tenderly, gently tilted her chin up, leaning forward with a murmured apology to press trembling lips to her neck.

Cool hands caressed his cheeks, cradling his face, and Vassanna kissed his forehead benevolently. He looked up and her lips met his. Theron felt light, unburdened. Forgiven. Peaceful.

“Don't be too long.” She turned away slowly, her fingers trailing down his cheek. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it, and gave her a shaky smile.

“Rest well, sweetheart.”

———

It took Theron nearly an hour to run through the exercises Amirtae had taught him to lessen his guilt and fear: it hadn't fixed things, but it sure as hells made looking at Sanna hurt less. Gathering up his courage, Theron approached the shuttle bunk.

She was curled up, facing the wall, but he'd shared a bed with her long enough to know that she was still awake and he sighed.

Here, practically alone in the emptiness of hyperspace, Theron could admit the truth to himself: he was afraid. Afraid to fall asleep. Afraid he’d dream again and hurt her. Afraid she'd reject him, despite her tender kisses and words of forgiveness. Afraid that he had broken things beyond repair. Afraid to need her as much as he did.

Perhaps one more quick round of meditation would be good for him.

No. No, if his stunt with the Order hadn't broken them apart, he wasn't about to let one bad dream drive a wedge between them. Theron slipped carefully under the covers, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her hip. “Can I hold you?” he whispered hesitantly. “Please, I— Sanna, I need to hold you. I need—”

She grabbed his hand and tucked it to her chest, pulling him closer. “Why can't you just call it ‘spooning’ like the rest of the galaxy?” she asked, her voice still raspy, but amused. She shifted until her back was pressed to his chest and he tucked his knees behind hers, slipping his arm under the pillows to twine their fingers together. He smiled, remembering — as she was — the night they'd mock-argued over how ridiculous the phrase “spooning” was.

“Vassanna Nabeshin, you know as well as I do: spoons that nest well together are the same size. There's no big and little spoon, they're all medium spoons.”

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about eating utensils!” she quipped. As they chuckled, a weight as big as a starship lifted from his shoulders; how had she gotten him to relax with one silly comment?

Theron kissed the side of Sanna's neck, nuzzling it as he squeezed her tight. They lay in silence, slowly relaxing, rocked gently by the shuttle’s movement through hyperspace. A question hovered in the back of his mind and he debated the merits of asking for long enough that she spoke first, soft yet insistent.

“Spit it out, mireashe.”

His heart thrilled at the endearment — as it always did — and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Unwilling to disturb the peaceful moment, he shook his head, but she rolled over to face him, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“Talk to me,” she whispered in a voice full of worry.

Heaving a sigh, Theron pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled her close. “Why didn't you use the Force to stop me?” he mumbled into her hair. “You should have.”

Vassanna’s fingertips tenderly traced the line of his collarbone as she spoke. “I didn't want to hurt you, scare you. You were terrified, I could feel it. Heartbroken. But I knew you'd wake up.” She snuggled closer, tangling their legs together. “You know, I don't think you actually broke your promise,” she continued. “You swore you'd never hurt me, right? I could see your face: the instant you realized that I was me and not whatever your dream was showing you, you stopped.”

Silence descended upon them once more and he wondered how in all the hells she could have so much faith in him, how she could trust him with her life, after everything.

“I don't deserve you.” The whispered words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

“I love you, mirea,” Sanna said simply, pulling back to meet his eyes. “I want you with me, until the end. My husband, my partner. Do you feel the same?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, then. If Destiny has seen fit to bring us together so many times, and we want to be together too, then...” She trailed off with a small sigh, lower lip caught in her teeth. “Then maybe that's more important than what we think we deserve.”

“Hmm, maybe you're right.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Hmm, maybe.” Sanna smiled, though it quickly disappeared. “Was it like that for you, the whole time?” she said, soft and hesitant. “When he was in my head, I mean, with all the dreams and— Did you feel that helpless every night?”

Theron paused, remembering her bad nights, the times when Vitiate would sink his claws into her mind and not let go. “Yeah. Helpless. Furious. He was torturing you and...” He sighed and cradled her head to his chest. “And I couldn’t do anything about it, except try to wake you and hold you close afterward. Stars, your face. I always knew the really bad ones — it took ages for you to come back to yourself, to recognize me again. The way you'd look at me when you thought I was one of them...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Yeah, ‘helpless’ is probably the best way to put it.”

Sanna murmured an apology and declaration of love, but she was drifting back to sleep, her body soft and warm against his.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He kissed her temple and tightened his hold on his wife; forgoing sleep himself, Theron would be more than content to hold her through the night.

“Sweet dreams.”

[starskipperrpg]

Rebel Voices: The Battle of Outpost Zerek

The following is the transcription of an audio recording from Tomar Monta, a Rodian in service to the Rebel Alliance as a pilot with Grey Hand Squadron. It serves as an after action report to the battle near Mos Shuuta.

Tomar: We were told to be ready at a moment’s notice. We were told the Rebellion had given supplies to a group working for them in their attack against an Imperial Outpost on Tatooine, but we were still told to be ready. For two hours we were sitting in our underground hanger, just waiting for the word.

Then it came.

Apparently this group was doing fine, but then the Imps sent in a Gozanti, and a bunch of TIEs, so we were asked to step in and give them air support. All I remember as we closed in on the battlefield was seeing these TIEs do a run along a ridge, destroying these militiamen that were going after Zerek.

We came in fast and hot, just like our training had told us, within a moment I was behind this Gozanti as it was closing in from atmo. I heard over the comms that Tex and Gav had taken out the TIEs, they weren’t expectin’ a bunch of heavy Z-95s coming out of the dune sea.

The battle was moving fast, on the ground these new rebs took out an AT-ST and then took another over, we were gaining the initiative. Yet this Gozanti was still here. Robinson, who was with me behind the Gozanti, had to pull out due to his engine bein’ hit. It was just me behind it now. I couldn’t line up for a shot, it was getting closer and closer to the ground.

Then my targeting computer gave me my favorite sound ever, missile lock. I let loose my proton torpedoes and pulled off, watching in my sensor as we scored a hit on the reactor. The Gozanti was down within minutes, crashing into the walls of this outpost.

[stormtheartistsstuff]

In between the OVA’s and s3, our trio of Zerek, Yugo, and Ruel accidentally come across Zerek’s uncle, He Who Must Not Be Named. He has a habit of possessing people but hooray! Family reunion! What could go wrong?

[meeeeeeese]

Zerek: who in the ash legion would you say are your closer allies. Why do you stray from the usual ash doctrine of quiet and deadly?

Zerek pauses for a moment, deep in thought "the thing about ash is that we all have acting duplicitously beaten into us from the first day we're dropped off at the farhar." A look of disdain crosses his face, "sometimes literally, not that I approve of such practices. The point is allies can change very fast, but my warband, the ones that aren't retired at least, have always stood by me. We're a part of ash's small contingent of frontline forces, we're sometimes looked down on but the tribunes know damn well we're necessary to hold actual land. As for who else…" Before he continues a faint fond smile graces the edges of his muzzle. "well some of the mesmers I've trained up seem to consider me an ally, the way they keep coming back to me begging for advice on their spellcraft. I'd tell 'em to stop but the tykes need all the help they can get, cubs these days can barely manifest a time warp proper size and half of them seem to think mesmer magic's something that can be brute forced…" He seems to have gotten into a rant, he continues rambling about the state of modern mesmers for a good five minutes before continuing to the next question "…anyway I have a few reasons to be more direct for ash legion, some practial and some personal. Firstly having some frontline fighters is simply necessary, even if some of the spies seem to think we can exist by hiding within the other legions. And, well when I was much younger I was… close with another mesmer. Very talented and much more traditional in his magic style with a love of disguises and deception" He crosses his arms with an annoyed look, the next part of the story seems to still be a bit of a sore point for him. "He defected to flame, all for the promise of power and 'access' to some of their females, and his acts of sabotage led to several crucial losses to the gold legion." Zerek takes a deep breath, easing out some of the tension in his voice. "Lets just say he was scum, and I don't much care to replicate his methods. I'd rather not leave people wondering if they ever really knew me when I go"

[whosxafraid]

beth belongs w/zerek so qed shoo go away.

          “Be’d be belongin’ wi’d or no’ wi’d whoever she be choosin’ ta. An d’at be o’choice noi’der me, nor ye be havin’ d’roi’ghts ta be decoi’dein’ fer her.”

           “No’ ta be mentionin’ d’fac’ oi’ dunna be knowin’ who Zarek be, so ye be catchin’ me ah’o’bi’ o’ah disadvantage d’ere.”

[hypexion]

Rise of Shadows: Superb Reveals

Time for neutral rares and Epics. These cards are generally interesting, which is nice, because there’s a bunch of them cover.

Arcane Watcher is a slightly interesting spin on the whole “Can’t attack” thing, since it can attack when you have Spell Damage. It’s still probably not that great outside of decks tuned specifically to abuse it’s high statline via Silence, however, since Spell Damage minions tend not to survive long - and if they’re activating other minions, they’ll become even more of a priority.

Portal Keeper is another deck addition card. The statline is incredibly dopey, with a moviated one cost minion able to take it out. Occationally getting an extra 2/2 isn’t a bad effect, really, but it comes at the cost of having to play a less than stellar minion. Probably not a winner.

Remember big spell triggers? Well, they’re back with Sunreaver Warmage. Actually, there’s a lot of things being added which have synergy with cards that are rotating out, which is a little weird. Anyhow, I guess this isn’t the worth thing ever. If you’re tilting your deck towards big spells, you probably have less targetted removal, so Sunreaver Warmage makes up for that. Whether Big Spell decks will work in Standard without the rest of the Big Spell stuff is another question entirely.

If Team Five is actually funny, they’ll print Recurring Villain in every set this year. But currently reprints are still off the table, so the dream is dead. I guess this is a card you can play in buff decks, since it’s very easy to make the Deathrattle activate. Remember when Zerek was a Legendary with a similar effect? Well, this is more consistent in several ways. Yeah.

Mad Summoner makes way too many Imps. Even your opponent gets some! I guess you can use this with Impferno to get a board, while your opponent gets no board, but that’s a nine mana combo, and you can do better for nine mana. This feels a lot like a “webcomic card” - it reads interestingly, but the gameplay doesn’t seem to be there.

Underbelly Ooze is one of those cards that gets the brain gears turning - there has to be some way to abuse its effect. The high cost makes it tricky, but there are various cheap buffs that could make this a pain to deal with. Plus, there’s always Wild to consider, which has many more tools, and thus more ways you could turn Underbelly Ooze into an entire board of obnoxious minions.

Tunnel Blaster is a Taunt minion that attempts to kill everything when it dies. Neat. The built in board wipe could be useful against token decks, and it has a decent amount of health. Really, the most interesting thing about Tunnel Blaster is that it’s effect was once a conditional effect on a Legendary. How times have changed.

Magic Carpet makes your one mana minions better. Combine with Toxmonger to create deadly danger minions! Except that would be really slow. This might be a decent pick for a Zoo type deck, since you can play it later on to make up for your cheapest minions no longer pulling their weight in the late game. It’s a bit naff that this is printed just as the Hunter quest rotates out, but I guess that Team Five was worried it could be too powerful, or something.

Azerite Elemental is here to remind us of the really weird Warcraft lore. Azerite is literally the crystallised blood of Azeroth, the planet that the Warcraft games take place on. Why can Azeroth bleed? It’s complicated. Titans are involved.

Anyway, this is a little weird for a Spell Damage minion. Usually, you want you Spell Damage right away, not later. And minions with strong passives tend to become targets, and Azerite Element has basically no self-protection effects. I assume that the Spell Damage compounds over time, since otherwise this just a really slow and bad minion with an Epic gem for some reason. (The reason is to waste your money.)

Portal Overfiend is just a higher cost version of Portal Keeper. That is literally it. Why is one rare and one Epic? Nobody knows. The minds of Team Five cannot be understood by mere mortals.

Whirlwind Tempest is our final Epic of the set, and I think it’s suitably Epic. I think this is only going to see play as a Combo piece - Windfury minions themselves aren’t worth running, even with a bonus like Mega-Windfury. But, at eight mana, Whirlwind Tempest is just cheap enough to be played on the same turn as the Shaman spell Windfury, which opens up some interesting ideas...

Feeling like a bunch of the comments on the commons will not actually be about the cards. Can they be more cynical than some of the comments here? You’d better believe it!

[captainderyn]

A Study In Patience

Title: A Study In Patience

Summary: Captain Rielay Taqq has dealt with Hutts before, she’s dealt with scenarios of threatened destruction more times than she should probably count.  Putting the two together should be a piece of cake...but as it turns out adding family to the mix is a bit like herding cats. 

Notes: Esrin, Fashira, and Zasharr all belong to @delavairesslegacy

“Emeldir, what’s going on down there?” 

Waiting with bated breath as her--no, Emeldir’s, this wasn’t her ship--holocomm hissed and buzzed with static and chaos from the other end of the line, Rielay leaned her elbows onto the main control frame. 

“Uh,” Her shoulders heaved in a sigh of relief when the familiar cadence of Emeldir’s voice broke through the static. “There’s a large fissure opening underneath us. But it’s fine, we're fine...” His voice cut off for a moment and despite the fact that Rielay couldn’t do anything from her--no, his damn it. His ship. Zasharr was flying hers while Emeldir and his crew were on the ground--ship she was gritting her teeth against a few choice words when he cut back in, braced like she was ready to leap into action. “--make another run? They’re launching now--” 

“And there isn’t enough time to reach the people stuck on the outskirts of the fissure.” Rielay supplied in the wake of the static, gritting out through her teeth: “So you’re standing over a massive fissure and my husband is probably either by the giant fissure or on the outskirts with no evac?” 

“Mhmm...” Emeldir hovered over giving an answer, torn between sniping something back or trying to ease her worry. He went with neither, mumbling something that vaguely resembled a guilty: "Yes m'am" but really sounded like: “Yes’m.” 

“I swear on the stars, Emeldir Deryn you are leading me to an early grave.” 

Her snarled comment fell on deaf ears as the channel cut out completely and she glared at the empty comm display, fingers clenching over the controls before she snapped up the ramp and activated the engine and thrusters. The Phoenix whirled to life around her, rumbling with far more power than her own ship had ever seen thanks to Risha’s additions over the last few years, and an inquisitive noise came from the central area of the ship. 

“We’re making another run, Fashira! Should be the last one before this all goes to hell!” She shouted over her shoulder, perhaps with far more force than warranted. 

Already she could see columns of smoke rising from outside the viewport, large rock formations tipping and shaking with the rocking of the earth. So help her if anyone in her ragtag family got hurt on this Hutt controled rock...

“Got it Rielay, I’ll prep for landing again!” Fashira called back, voice cooling her agitated nerves into simple steam. She didn’t sound worried, but then again Fashira never seemed worried. The cathar oozed calm, the perfect crew member to temper Rielay’s rising frustration. 

Needing an outlet for her growing nerves she smacked her hand into the comm device, poking around for the contact for the Promise. “We’re making one last run, make it count. Get my ship off planet without any scratches or else.” 

“Sure thing, Red.” Zasharr’s voice snapped over the holo, reverberating with suppressed laughter. “No scratches or scorch marks or it’s on me.” 

“Count on it.” Rielay growled before her voice softened. “Stay safe out there, got it?” 

Before they cut the feed entirely and made for their landing, swooping down close to the surface that was more spitting lava and less solid land with each passing second, Zasharr actually laughed. “Such a worrier now, Captain. Will do.” 

"Blame the maternal instincts then Zash. Don't be giving me snark."

She damn well would worry, this whole planet was splintering beneath them and her entire family was to some degree flying straight towards the growing patches of red hot lava. And they had wanted to leave her behind, far behind. Home on Corellia behind. 

It didn’t matter, she had plenty of reason to worry and it was well within her rights to do so. 

'But Rielay...' the protests had rung, carefully spoken. 'Dont you think you should sit this one out? For both your sakes?'

As if being a few months into her pregnancy made her less likley to let those she cared about be stupid without her there to make sure they all stayed together and mostly in one piece. 

No she very well would not "sit this one out.".

She had stressed, and argued, and bargained, and negotiated and bargained some more to her own band of worriers to let her fly her ship. Deryn’s ship. A ship. Something that vaguely resembled a ship.

She had won in the end. Won herself the pilot ship of the Phoenix. And she still had plenty of reason to worry and she would continue do so.

“We all clear?” Rielay called back to Fashira, bouncing her hand up and down on the controls as she waited for a response. Knowing that the entire planet was splitting beneath them--where somewhere Deryn was on the ground by it and her husband was somewhere else in the entire mess with no contact--should have had her stressed. And she was stressed, but she hid it well under a spitting frustration. 

“All set.” Fashira appeared on the bridge, eyeing the smoke gathering below their flight path, then fixing her knowing eyes on Rielay and the way her own eye was glaring out the viewport. “Rielay, want me to take this run?” 

That glare snapped to Fashira in all its fiery glory, though her voice spluttered like she hadn’t fully processed the question. “W-what? No! I’m flying, you take the controls on that side.” She twitched her hand towards the far side of the control board. “And make sure we don’t crash.” 

Ceding to her unmovable captain, Fashira took the the controls with only a slightly irritated huff. “Esrin isn’t going to be happy if--”

“Esrin,” Rielay growled. “is in no position to be anything but damn well happy I don’t show up with my blaster charged and my finger on the trigger to shoot the sons of Hutts who thought this was a good idea.” 

“I...” The cathar started before shaking her head with a shake of her head and an audible sigh. “Alright, you know what your doing.” The exasperated ‘most likely’ hung off the end unspoken.

As it turned out flying back down towards the surface of a planet that was rocking and tumbling to pieces was easier in theory than it was in practice. The turbulence threw the Phoenix back and forth in the air, making Rielay grit her teeth as she played a delicate balancing game with the thruster strength to avoid the approaching surface. 

“Alright evac group zerek-ten get ready to load, it’s going to be a tight squeeze.” Releasing her hold on the comm button she waited in the static for the response from the Republic soldier in charge of organizing the evacuees. 

“Understood Captain Taqq. Preparing for loading.” 

Bringing her ship down for a soft landing was another study in patient maneuvering, filled with her holding her breath and biting her lip in concentration until her ship’s landing gears thunked down on the grassy clearing they had for landing extra evac ships. Even with an experienced pilot’s skill the freighter still rocked back and forth jarringly and Rielay made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat as she activated the ship’s top shielding against falling debris and lowered the ramp. 

Time for the chaos of trying to organize more terrified people than her ship could technically hold. With a deep breath Rielay made to step out onto the main floor of the Phoenix before Fashira stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll take the front, you take organizing them where you want them. The ramp got pretty rowdy last run.”

She couldn’t argue with that, she still had the smarting spot on her cheekbone from someone’s elbow meeting her face. Nodding, she bounded over to the storage crates she had pushed into the corner and clambered on top of one as Fashira rushed to the ramp. 

“They’re coming in Captain!”

The first wave of people came rushing in and Rielay cupped her hand around her mouth, gesturing with her other one. “Head down the hall and take your first right, it’s going to be a tight squeeze so pack in tight...” 

It continued much the same, rumbles shaking up through the floor as she shouted over the rising noise where to go and what to do until her voice was hoarse. At some point in the blur of activity someone had shoved a very young and very unhappy baby into her arms and not long after that she had found herself with another lost, young child shunted into her care. While the baby cried at the increasing frequency of rumbling and the thumping of debris ricocheting of the ship’s shields the other young child--thankfully old enough to be on her own two feet--clung to her leg. 

By the stars this was going to be harder than she thought. 

Fashira finally appeared, the ramp easing closed behind her and the last of their evacuees squeezing in. Almost all the floor space of the Phoenix was filled with people squished in like sardines except for the bridge, kept blessedly clear for her own sanity when flying them out of here. 

She ran her free hand over the trembling child clinging to her leg’s head comfortingly before trying her best to distract the younger long enough to murmur some comforting nonsense to hopefully ease the crying. It worked momentarily until the next quake hit, where it started all over. Out of time she cleared her throat, leaned her elbow on the intercom button to carry her instructions throughout the ship and strained her cracking voice to shout: “Alright everyone listen up! We’re flying--” 

Her words fell on deaf ears, the scared chatter overpowering her voice and her stature too small to gain much attention even with her standing on the crates as she was. Fashira reached her side and cupped her hands over her mouth so her voice boomed across the crowd: “Everyone listen! Your captain is speaking!”

With a thankful nod, Rielay tried again. “We’ll be taking off again asap to rendezvous at the Ark! It’s going to be a rough ride so everyone please be aware of what’s around you and stay calm. When we reach the Ark exit this ship  calmly; Republic forces will be there to direct you properly!”

Two of the nearest evacuees took the children from her care, nodding at Rielay’s thank you’s and murmuring comforts to the shaking and crying children. Following in Fashira’s wake as the taller, broader, cathar woman cleared a path back to the bridge Rielay stomped down her building stress and took to the controls like a bat out of hell. “Watch the main area please, I don’t want any incidents.” 

“Just focus on getting us our of here, Rielay. I’ve got it.” 

“Activating fore, rear, and side shields.” Reading off the initial steps it took to get Deryn’s ship off the ground did far more to keep her calm than any focused breathing she had tried and she stuck to it, not looking too hard at the spires of lava spurting out of gouges in the planet’s surface. Damn Hutts, damn them, damn them--

“Engaging thrusters and stabalizers, pushing engines...” The ship heaved itself off the ground, doing its best to maintain a straight course in the buffeting conditions as she guided them into the air. “Retracting landing gears and...we should be clear of the ground tremors now.” 

Rielay rested one knee on the captain’s seat, sticking her tongue in her cheek as she pushed the engines a little harder, eyeing the temp monitor nervously. “Either the ship is starting to feel it’s runs today or the core temperature of Makeb is going up. Or both.” 

But Fashira had been drawn out into the crowd, no doubt to cool rising tensions in the cramped spaces and the stress of separated families. “Right. Well, we’re almost in the upper atmosphere anyways. Keep it together.” she finished to herself, hissing out a breath between her teeth as the Phoenix punched through the clouds, trying not to think too hard about who could remain on the surface. 

The hangars were just as chaotic as the ground space had been, Rielay learned after docking the Phoenix and ushering her passengers into the capable and organized hands of the Republic forces stationed on the Ark--which in itself was docked at the Makeb Orbital Station, but all Makeb bodies had to go through the Ark to get to the Station on Custom’s rules, making things far more complicated than she cared to tolerate. 

 Across the hangar, filled with three other hired freighters, she saw the Promise as Zasharr had confirmed after picking up her holo on the first ring. The cathar himself hadn’t escaped such a long distance affirmation.  After the routine check over making sure there was a distinct lack of injuries and other life threatening complications Zasharr’s eyes widened as Rielay threw her arms around him--his arms flailing for a moment before settling gently around her with an awkward pat between her shoulder blades. “Aright Red, what’s this about?” 

“Let’s just...not do this again. Let’s not split up and go into a dying planet please.” She said into his shoulder before she slipped back, reigned back in her frayed nerves, and raked her hands through her hair, looking between the cathar duo and working up her ‘business- captain’ voice. “We’re going to have to refuel so if you two want to go find somewhere to rest, somewhere to eat or something feel free, it’s been a long day. I’ll holo when we get the green light to leave.” 

Fashira gave her a worried once over, then looked to the empty ship around them. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t wan to leave you here alone.”

Waving them off, she offered a tired smile. She didn’t need her crew here to watch her fret and pace, that usually didn’t require an audience. “I’m fine. Deryn let me know he’s coming to retrieve his ship and then I’m going to find Esrin.” 

After sharing a look they had probably hoped Rielay couldn’t read, reluctantly Fashira and Zasharr turned away and retreated down the ramp, disappearing into the thinning crowds. It was only a few minutes of silence occupied by her three holocalls to Esrin’s device that fell unanswered and the typed “Meet in hangar cresh-eighteen? Docked there.” that conveyed much less of the worry that was burning its way through her chest than she felt before Emeldir and his crew reached the Phoenix. 

They looked worse for wear, with haphazard kolto patches covering burns and deeper cuts visible through torn sleeves and singed cuffs. “You look like you’ve been through hell and back.” 

Emeldir scoffed out what might’ve been a laugh as his crew all nodded to her and trudged off to clean off and treat their wounds. Risha hovered for a moment longer, letting her hand linger on Emeldir’s arm as something silent passed between them. Then she was gone and it was just the two of them. Whatever iron her fellow captain stiffened his spine with to stay energetic for his crew melted and he slumped against the wall, letting his head thump back against the metal. “I see my ship made it through alright, nice flying. Guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less. You alright too?”

“It was rough going, but I’ll consider not losing an engine a victory.” Shrugging her shoulder Rielay added: “Silly question, I’m fine, all I did was shout at people and fly.” She glanced down at her still-blank holocomm. Where was he? “Does it look like the planet is coming out of this?” 

Shaking his head, Emeldir’s voice dropped low. “No. We were able to evac who we could...but not every civilian made it to an evacuation point.” 

Sighing, Rielay pressed her lips together. That was a fact of these kinds of flights she tried not to think too hard on. She wasn’t going to think too hard on what civilian could be defined as and how many others had been left stranded without access to an evacuation point.“We can’t save ‘em all, kid, but we damn well tried.”

The pause bloated with guilt and a lack of conviction, Emeldir simply shook his head. “I know but...” He shook his head again and let the thought drop, instead crossing the small space to put his hands on Rielay’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Her eyes darted up to him, an assurance already on the tip of her tongue until her look slipped back to the comm in her hand and she sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I’m...it’s just...the last contact I had was...” With a frustrated whine she raked a hand through her hair and then let it flop down to her side. “I think I’m just going to go back to my ship.” 

For a brief moment an argument passed over Emeldir’s face before he even said anything. All he said was: “I don’t just want to leave you in this hangar alone.” 

At that she did roll her eyes before softening at the kid’s typical worry. No crew member left behind--old or new--or whatever went through her fellow captain’s head. “You and your crew deserve some quiet. Besides, Fashira and Zasharr would come back if I asked them to.” 

Gently she took Emeldir’s hand from her shoulder. “I’ll be fine, okay? Just stressed and need to go back to my own ship.” 

--

She was curled halfway up the ramp of the Promise, leaning against one of the struts with her knees drawn as tightly towards her as her body would allow, when she saw the remaining crowd shifting ever so slightly. 

The holocomm fell from her hands--suddenly limp--and thudded down the ramp, spinning to a half at the base. Without looking down towards it she rocked to her feet, clinging to the strut as she pressed up on her toes to try and see over the dwindling sea of heads. 

��Es-” Her exhausted voice failed her before she cleared her throat and tried again, waving her hand above her head wildly like the only XS Freighter with the Corellian blood-stripes painted on its body wasn’t conspicuous enough. “Esrin!” 

By the time he made it to her she was teetering on the edge of the ramp, reaching for him. She all but fell against him when he wrapped his arms around her waist, waiting patiently as she her arms went around his neck. 

Esrin smelled like a warzone--dirt, sweat, smoke, charred plastoid--but he was safe and there right in front of her and that alone was enough to take the weight from her chest and let her breath again. 

Heart still hammering from the stress of it all and relief she pulled back, her hands sliding up to rest on either side of his jaw. For a moment her expression was one of soft solace. “Thank the stars you’re alright, with the chaos of everything...” Then her eyes turned stormy and sharp, brow creasing. “Were you really by the giant fissure? The one that caused this whole mess?” One hand dropped so she could slip her fingers through the charred straps of his armor at his shoulder. “That doesn’t happen on it’s own.” 

The question wasn’t phrased as such, after all it was more an admonishment than an actually inquiry and instead she punctuated her own words by tugging on the armor straps, urging him the half step closer she needed to kiss him--hard and filled with the cocktail of relief and exasperation that muddled inside her. “You’re a brave, selfless, idiot sometimes and it terrifies me.” She murmured when she pulled back, resting their foreheads together. 

When Esrin tipped his head down to press another chaste kiss to her lips it was soft, cooling her simmering temper. “Things got a little out of hand.” He agreed, the ‘it was our duty’ laying unsaid but implied. She had to remind herself that he was still a soldier in the Republic’s army. “I didn’t mean to drop completely out of contact. I’m sorry.”

“I hated not knowing what was going on...” Rielay sighed, repeating: “I’m just glad your alright.” 

“I am.” As she bobbed her head in semi, distracted agreement he brought a hand up to push her hair behind her ear, cradling her head and catching her attention. “Rie, I am, I promise. Are you?”

Trying to suppress the slight tremble in her voice only accentuated it and Rielay grumbled. “I’m fine, I wish everyone would stop asking me that.” A slightly watery laugh. “I mean I got to fly Deryn’s ship, that in it’s self is...” Seeing as it was getting her nowhere but into a deeper hole of not believing her she stopped and reassessed what she was saying. “Trust me, I’m fine, the baby’s fine. Just tired.” 

That at least chased the worry from his expression that had festered at her rambling. “Then how about we find somewhere a little less busy, we can find something to eat, somewhere to rest while they refuel your ship.” 

In the middle of nodding an actual, not disbelieving nod she paused. “You are flying home with me, right?” At his pause her voice hitched up a notch, the ball of stress in her mind coiling tight again. “Esrin?” 

Thea idea of traveling the three days back to Corellia--she certainly wasn’t going to get the clearance to stick around Makeb space for an extended period of time--and being back and alone outside of Coronet City where things weren’t even fully settled and Sirixa was starting her first year of secondary school was very nearly enough to drive her stress through the roof again. 

“I should be able to fly home with you, don’t worry.” Gently, but insistently Esrin pulled her into motion, helping her hop off the ramp and pushing away her overwhelming, looming idea of Corellia as they drifted into the crowd. 

Tucked against his side they navigated their way through the lingering crowd, denser than it had seemed from the ramp of her ship, until they broke into the main, open area of the orbital station. There were some soldiers milling about, some typing furiously at the data terminals while some simply sat against the walls, dozing or munching on food. Within a few moments they joined the soldiers in the calm, finding a quiet corner to find reprieve in. 

It was out of the glaring florescent of the main lighting, casting it in soft shadow in it’s deepest corner, and the noise from the hangars and intercoms was muffled ever so slightly. It was peaceful, more peaceful than any structure over the raging Makeb had any right to be. 

But that was okay, because Rielay didn’t need the commotion of Makeb, she didn’t want it. She just wanted to stay the way she was, in that bubble of quiet, warm in against Esrin’s side--he had removed the hard shell of his plastoid armor sometime when they had sat down, leaving him in a black long sleeve shirt--and finally letting her heavy eyelids drift close. 

[princesskeda]

you know what you should do? in the future, if you continue this series or write anything else and there is a traitor who is close to the main protagonist or something, hide their betrayal until it's revealed. what i mean is that instead of showing behind the scenes of them talking to another boss about finding answers, you should just have them interact nicely with the main characters and show things happening that will later add up after the reveal. i think its more engaging that way

I definitely agree that hidden betrayals are interesting and engaging. There’s nothing more fun than having characters actions and reactions take on a whole new meaning once their true character is revealed. But I’d like to friendly argue that we do have a character like that in “The Southern Years”. While perhaps not on the scale that you are picturing, Ivvan is a character that we didn’t have any POV scenes with. He was portrayed as annoying, but loyal and ultimately harmless until it was revealed that he’s a vindictive asshole, and it reframed all of his interactions with Rook and Theo. 

I am also assuming you are referring to characters like Rook and Alan, who where technically traitors who are close to Theo, and Id like to defend the decision to have scenes from their perspectives that revealed their deceptions. While I agree twist antagonists are fun to read and to write, they do have a problem with longevity in my opinion. Most of that character’s interest is tied up in that big twist. Once it happens the character now has to become interesting in other ways, or leave the story in some way. In Ivvan’s case it was the later.

In Rook’s case, the decision to have scenes from her perspective was an intentional one for many reasons. We could have kept her deception hidden, but I feel like she would have ended up far too similar to Harumi in characterization, and we didn't want that. She was also intended to become a main character from practically her creation, so she needed scenes from her perspective so we could get to know her and empathize with her. We also wanted to showcase the tragedy of her betrayal being pointless and unnecessary but her having no idea.

There's a principle in writing, that if you want to create any kind of suspense for your audience, rule number one is for them to have information that the protagonists do not. “Inheritance” was all about suspense. From  Zerek’s slow unraveling, to Rook’s betrayal, we wanted readers to experience the suspense and the dread of knowing what's coming to our unsuspecting characters. 

Rook’s story is also about redemption, and it is very hard to redeem a twist antagonist. Not impossible, but difficult. Rook’s betrayal was already gonna be hard enough to resolve and get her where we wanted her ultimately. I like to think it was handled about in the same way that Zuko’s redemption is handled.  He was a main character and we had many many scenes from his perspective despite him appearing to only be an antagonist at first. His betrayal in season 2 is heartbreaking because we are mad at him, but we know why he made that decision. 

Now the decision to have scenes from Alan’s perspective was also directly tied to his character and the themes Nicki wanted to explore. Actually Alan and Ivvan where going to be the same character, but somewhere down the line after Alan was introduced, she decided to explore Alan and flesh out not only his and  Omar’s characters, but Ottan’s as well. I also found it personally interesting and refreshing to have a POV that was far removed from Theo and company and had an outside perspective on the other characters and their actions. I also really relate to Alan as a character and his immense fear and guilt about his big secret. We wouldn't have gotten any of that ( and everything thats coming later for that matter) if we had never seen any of his perspective. I also think he wouldn't have made a very interesting twist antagonist. His deception isn't malicious and he wasn't really noticed by Theo or any other POV character. Its what made him a good spy for Ottan, and it would have made for very little to be gleaned from his minimal interactions with the other characters after the reveal. 

All this to say, that I think there is interest in both approaches, but you can’t always do both. Its always best to decide what's best for your character’s story and the story at large. Don't get me wrong tho, we really do appreciated the fact that you took the time to read and engage with the story and offer feedback! I’ll definitely forward this to Nicki and who knows, your suggestion may just spawn a new character! I just wanted a chance to have a bit of a friendly debate about it haha

[theinsanecrayonbox]

So last week we finished Giant Slayers. This is the first time any of my DnD groups has finished a whole Adventure Path from start to finish. and it was glorious. But it’s the aftermath that I’ve been playing with all week....

Margus started the story off going to bring his little sister home; finding she’d gotten roped into helping the town, he decided to do the job for her, so she’d be safe. He was awkward, filled with much self doubt and self loathing, because he wasn’t comfortable with being a half-orc (and lacking any draconic heritage from his father) or expressing his gayness. He left the town with 2 others, and Zali his baby drake companion and son. Throughout the adventure, one of his friends died, but they managed to bring him back to life; he still felt guilty for getting someone hurt. Then the other friend was killed...and he did not get him revived; he felt ALOT of guilt over that (especially since he was killed just after Margus kissed him). The party picked up another person...but they wound up getting killed too, just adding to Margus’ ever extending pool of guilt. Not to mention, everyone wants to kill him, since Orcs were the first enemy, and then Giants being the second hate Orcs. But when he ascended to Mythic, he got a great sword forged from the fang of Saint Fang, the dragon servant to the god Gorum, whom he was raised to follow. His god wound him worthy. and in the end, they won, and the world was saved from the Storm Tyrant. He is could now also turn into a dragon on his own, and his drake son is now fully grown and 20 feet tall.

But what more, Margus grew so much. He started off self-loathing, questioning his place in the world, and doing things only to protect his family. t the end, he is more at ease with who and what he is, though yeah still a bit hesitant. And he returns home to Sandpoint...to actually start a family. See, the party met a doppleganger named Thoon in the last leg of the story, and he’s most comfortable in a male presenting Orc form....and dopplegangers have minor mind-reading powers. So Margus’ problems with articulating his feelings are less a problem....the fact that Margus was accidentally forced to kill Thoon in a fight just added to his HUGE guilt trip problems, but as the party and Thoon spend weeks cleaning out the castle of loot, they wind up dating, so Margus takes Thoon home with him, after they go pick up his sister on the way.

So Margus and Thoon take over the small farm the Ironwood family had on the outskirts of Sandpoint (so Arkos can move to Magnimar with Rikkar permanently) and 2ish years into their relationship, they have a baby; it was actually Thoon’s idea, since you know, he’s a shapeshifter, and Margus just never thought he’d ever have any biological children, and was all up for adopting (he did try to adopt a baby the party the found during the story, but we found it’s family so he didn’t ^^; ). It wasn’t an easy conception, or pregnancy, but they had their son Brutus, called Bruce, named after the party member that Margus failed to save in the story. When Bruce is 3, they adopt a half-elf baby 1 year old girl they name Thekla (who may have some draconic in her); they live in Sandpoint where Koya collects orphans like cats (and sometimes cats that re orphans lol) so them adopting kids isn’t a surprise at all. though hilariously, a couple months later, Thoon is randomly pregnant again by surprise; this pregnancy went much smoother (most likely because he stayed in this form for a much longer time and adjusted to it better) so thus their second son Armas is born. Then when Bruce is 12, Thekla is 10, Armas is 8 they adopt 2 Half/Orc siblings who were orphaned from some event, Sinzia aged 10, and Zerek aged 7. 

So 14 years after the end of our game, this is the family that Margus has built for himself (minus any OTHER dragons he might’ve picked up, because Zali is still around of course). My shy, unsure ranger has become a glorious dragon dad with his own Ironbrood. I love it all ^^

Also Sandpoint has a giant dragon around it....

Also, also; the Ironbrood Thanksgiving is gonna be more from now on ^^