Ask Dolla Dolla Bill Y'all

[Roman Antilles]

.

ROYAL ACADEMY, DOLLA, LOCAL TIME: 0237

Spoiler: OOC

This thread is a component of Southern Stronghold, Sith Mission Pack. Permission granted by Mission Pack Creator to finish this thread as it has been pending inactive since February. Credits for the Picture to Oreus.

The sounds of bones cracking was surreal and grimly satisfying; force tendrils wrapped around necks of the two royal guards, Caucasian flesh rendered a molten blue as asphyxiation took over. Limbs flailing in open air as their bodies were hoisted several inches off the ground, providing no support for them to resist. It was futile and within seconds the resistance ended, their breathless carcasses succumbed to the dark external forces at play. Roman gestured with his right hand, allowing the bodies to fall to the ground with a simple thud. An itch or perhaps better term would be addiction, inflicting merciless cruelty to those he deemed as unworthy. Now that the defense was removed from the academy gates, his armored form advanced further into the castle. Moonlight glistened above head, as the ebony Sentinel armor was cloaked brilliantly by midnight darkness.

Lightsaber hilt was at his waist though he did not ignite it, the crimson light would certainly attract attention and for the time being they required some execution of stealth. The sith sword at his back was instead clasped in the right grip, its shimmering blade vibrating with a dull "hmm" though emitting no colors as characteristic of the vibroweapon. Eyes darted towards his left as he came atop the platform ending from the stairwell. A singular wooden door stood in his path, one Roman knew he had to cross to gain access to the lower levels of this building. Fingers of his left hand curled into a claw, gesturing as he rippled against the locked mannifold and yanked its centerpiece forward. The door cracked ever so slightly, causing the guard settled within to investigate almost immediately. What the man did not know however, was the danger that awaited him. As his torso came into opening, the Sith Champion lunged forwards in a fluid and seamless movement. His weapon piercing through belly effortlessly, trail of bright red blood staining the cobblestone floor as the strong Roman raised his arm and levitated his opponent off the ground. Still struggling, Roman summoned a ghastly green glow across his fingertips, snatching forwards in a form of Force Drain.

As the essence of life was sucked from the man, it replenished the Sith's own addiction and craving. Also brightening his strength and resolve with the Force. Roman slid his sword out of the guard's stomach, body landing on the ground with a thud. Searching through his clothing, he found the set of keys that unlocked the next series of doors. Before advancing though, he knew this was the location he had requested his companion to rendezvous. She was also a Champion, her bravery well known in the battlefield for forcing two Jedi Knights into retreat. Roman was impressed to say the least, though had never had an opportunity to meet her prior to tonight's engagement.

And so he waited...

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Suffice to say, Vahliri was less-than-pleased with Roman’s chosen methodology.

During the several-hour voyage through hyperspace, the half-Annfyn had meticulously combed through Imperial intelligence reports regarding the situation on Dolla - using every bit of information at her disposal to strategize their approach. By now, Vahliri was well-acquainted with the declining health of Dolla’s aged King, as well as the rumors that surrounded his self-serving grandson and heir. They were signs that all pointed towards a situation ripe for exploitation.

One needed only play upon the preexisting impatience and ambition of the Crown Prince to gain his support, and to play their part in the coup that would follow. It was a mission that would require a more delicate approach than the traditional invasion, relying upon the Sith’s ability to manipulate and apply influence without ever drawing their sabers. As a result, Vahliri was both outright confused and irritated to witness the bloodbath that Roman had unleashed on the Royal Academy.

Even cloaked by the cover of midnight, the carnage that the man unleashed wouldn’t go unnoticed - likely to dominate the news-cycle and, if they weren’t careful, point directly back to Imperial involvement. Nor did Vahliri believe that butchering soldiers on a neutral system would gain them the favor of its future Monarch. She had no qualms about the bloodshed, or taking control of planets by force when the situation demanded it. Vahliri had certainly applied those methods on New Alderaan. But that decidedly didn’t apply everywhere, and this?

This was pointless and unnecessary, and it forced them to be far more involved with the next steps of this operation than Vahliri had originally anticipated.

Nevertheless, there was no undoing that Roman had already done, and the half-Annfyn adapted accordingly to the situation at hand - striding down the ramp of her shuttle and towards the Academy entrance. As per usual, she was adorned in her signature red-and-black Sith robes, the curved hilt of her saber clipped to her belt and hood pulled up over her face. Her black hair was pulled back into a half-up-half-down style, while the air around her was sweetly scented with the usual perfume she wore.

It didn’t take her long to reach the place she was set to meet with the fellow Champion. Vahliri stepped through the doors that had been unlocked, amber gaze fixating onto the armored figure of Roman waiting for her. Almost at once, her almond-shaped eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly - fluted ears flattening against the sides of her skull.

“You’ve certainly made an entrance, Champion Antilles.” She said after a moment of pause, turning to face him directly. It didn’t matter in the slightest that the man quite literally doubled her in size, amber eyes staring daggers into his skull. “I trust you had a good reason for it?” There was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

A single moment ticked by. “Or perhaps you are as fucking dense as you appear.”

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

.

Roman turned momentarily to glance at his companion as she entered through the doors he had left open. His focus on the task at hand was temporarily distracted given the beautiful visage. Not bad... He thought to himself as he immediately returned his attention as she began berating him on his decision making. Instead of mouthing a reaction or growing defensive, his natural confidence seemingly just absorbed the verbal blows. It didn't really matter if she approved or not, he was going to do things his way as long as it didnt compromise their assignment. While he trusted that she was more than capable of achieving success diplomatically, his methods were to be frank, more bloody. And that's how he preferred it to be..

Chuckling, Roman reached down to grab the carcasses of the slain guards and tossed them to the corner of the hallway. He shifted slowly towards Vahliri, tossing the set of keys to her. "This is the only military presence in the downstairs of the academy, these catacombs sit directly underneath the Prince's quarters. So now, you have all the time you need to charm the young man into accepting your diplomatic terms. Maybe if you finish early, we can celebrate over some drinks poolside..." He said with a slight smirk in his voice, his left hand affectionately nudging the bottom of her chin as he moved past her and towards the doors.

Armored hand reached forwards and pulled the door open, revealing a staircase that led upwards into the second floor where the Prince would be resting. He continued to hold the door open while gesturing to her, "After you..."

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri didn’t bother to reach for the keys that were tossed in her direction - the shaped pieces of metal instead stopping short of actually reaching her. The Force moved at the half-Annfyn’s command, suspending the keys in mid-air and causing them to float down to secure onto her belt. As a result, her amber eyes didn’t flick away from Roman the entire time - remaining sharply narrowed into daggers as she stared him down. The agitation lingered when the man not only proceeded to elaborate on his harebrained murderspree, but began to step closer towards her.

She decidedly didn’t care what he had to say - least of all on the reminder of a mission she would have to salvage from his pointless, asinine existence.

The last part of what Roman said, however, finally caused the half-Annfyn’s expression to shift vividly. A scowl immediately etched its way across Vahliri’s face - anger flashing in her eyes as the Champion had the nerve to suggest wanting to get cozy with her when the mission was over, combining with the way he had been eyeing her since she strolled through the entrance. Her gaze flicked down and locked onto the hand that rose up to nudge the bottom of her chin - the sight along bringing a distinct tint of gold to the half-Annfyn’s eyes.

The fellow Champion had already run the finite limits of Vahliri’s patience with his murderous antics, and his attempts to touch her in any capacity were a step beyond what the half-Annfyn would ever tolerate.

Despite whatever he intended, Roman’s hand would never come into contact with the bottom of Vahliri’s chin. The Force flowed vibrantly through the half-Annfyn’s left hand - tendrils of invisible energy coiling around the fellow Champion’s arm like a vice and causing it to stop short of touching her by a few inches. The faint curling of the half-Annfyn’s fingers caused those tendrils of the Force to tighten even further around his forearm - holding it straight and locking it in place for a few split moments.

At the same time, the curved hilt of Vahliri’s lightsaber snapped into her right hand - its crimson blade igniting with a characteristic snap-hiss. Without a single word, the half-Annfyn rapidly rotated her wrist in a circular, counterclockwise motion - swinging her blade in an attempt to cleave through Roman’s arm at elbow level - above his gauntlet - and sever it completely. It was an attack that didn’t necessitate Vahliri to hardly move her arm at all, and it would leave the fellow Champion with exceptionally little time to react. Similarly, the grip on his forearm, and the fact that her blade positioned on the left side of his body - opposite to where his vibroblade was - made it an attack that would be almost impossible to defend against.

Regardless of what happened to Roman’s arm, Vahliri would take a half-step backwards and diagonally to the left - her body rotating ever-so-slightly as to continuously face the fellow Champion. Her saber repositioned into a defensive guard in front of her body, while the half-Annfyn’s left arm, equip with the Crystal Vambrace, was tucked on the side of her body and yet remained unused for the moment. She was prepared for whatever counterattack he came at her with, and if he didn't, was prepared to lung at the Champion once more.

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

.

Roman knew instantly that his misguided affections did not achieve the results he wished, as he noticed his fingertips suspend in mid air inches away from the flesh of Valhiri's chin. Invisible tendrils wrapped around his forearm and tugged to straighten it; the Champion however, naturally resisted with his own musculature. A short time window but enough, as simultaneously his left fingertips extended outwards to make a flattened palm. Spherical ball of invisible energy shot forwards in the form of a fluid, force push to smash at Valhiri's mid-chest level and drive her backwards out of melee range. As Valhiri had her concentration focused on her own force attack and engaging with her lightsaber, she would have little defense against it, especially considering the close proximity they stood in.

The Force push aimed to interrupt the lightsaber slash, placing his hand now out of range of her melee attack. Additionally, given Roman's natural height advantage and the level at which his own Vibroweapon stood against Valhiri's frame, he snapped his wrist in a slightly upward angle, positioning the blade defensively to block the saber if Valhiri did somehow still manage to continue in her attack.

Roman now took a step backward to disengage even further from his opponent, force drawing around his free hand in a palpable aura of dark energy. Eyes flickered to crimson as his facial visage was concealed by the helm, it grew the cosmetics of dark sided corruption. His emotional range displayed no anger, rather, a vicious smile curled on the edges of his lips.

"And here I thought you would be all work and no play..." He chuckled, attention focused on her as he planned his next offensive maneuver. However, before the two of them could re-engage further in their quarrel, a thundering of footsteps could be heard above head. Voices echoed out and the radio comlinks on the deceased guards began to spiral with noises and commands in a foreign tongue. Apparently it seemed, all the guards had connected EKG devices monitoring their heart rhythms. As they were all flatlined from murder, the remainder of the security forces now advanced on the Sith' position...

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri kept her gaze ferociously trained on Roman the entire time - motes of liquid gold speckling the half-Annfyn’s otherwise amber-brown eyes. Any considerations for their current mission or the fact that Roman was her fellow Imperial had died the exact moment that he had attempted to touch her. And Vahliri had no intention of allowing him to ever make that mistake again.

Her gaze momentarily flicked down, feeling that distinct pulse in the Force as Roman gathered energy within his flattened palm. Rather than remaining a completely stationary target, the half-Annfyn slid her left foot backwards and shifted ever-so-slightly to the right - her right foot forward and right shoulder now turned to face the Champion - torso turned side face. As a result, the spherical orb of energy would blast through the air where her chest had only just been - passing the half-Annfyn’s smaller frame without ever making contact. As a result, her saber continued its arc and came to clash against Roman’s vibroblade - the characteristic crackle and hiss of their locked blades filling the confined space they fought in.

When the fellow Champion took a step backwards, Vahliri passively brought her saber back into a defensive guard - positioned at a forty-five-degree angle in front of her body. Just as she moved to re-engage with Roman, there was a noticeable twitch of the half-Annfyn’s fluted ears. Far more pronounced than the fellow Champion could, Vahliri’s ultra-sensitive hearing picked up on the sound of the footsteps and commands that were spoken.

She knew that the new squadron of guards would soon make their way down to their level, but Vahliri could easily tell they were still some distance away. And she had every intention of ending her fight with Roman long before they arrived.If the fellow Champion believed she was going to disengage to address the security advancing on their position, he was going to be sorely mistaken.

She didn’t deigh to respond to what he said, and she gave Roman no additional moment of reprieve before stepping forth once again - pivoting on her right foot and abruptly closing in on the fellow Champion’s own left flank. As she moved, however, the half-Annfyn once more reached out for the Force through her left hand - coiling her grasp firmly upon the fellow Champion’s right knee - firm tendrils of energy sinking into his joint and gripping tightly to hold of in place. It was timed at the exact moment that Vahliri shifted onto the man’s flank, meaning that if Roman naturally turned to face her, the man would risk dislocating the joint in the process.

Regardless of what he did, Vahliri didn’t hesitate to swing her saber in horizontal arc from right to left - closing with her blade positioned defensively across her body while attempting to carve a molten channel through the fellow Champion’s torso at diaphragm level.

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

.

Roman's ears also picked up the trails of boots advancing on their position, though for the immediate time being, they were still a distance away. He did not expect Vahliri to relent and nor should she, the man had disrespected her honor and rightfully so, she was more than capable of defending it. In that aspect at least, the male Sith grew some degree of appreciation for his fellow champion.

As her force attack dug into his right knee, he could feel a stiffening and tightening around the joint. He did not move it for that very consideration, and to be frank, he didn't quite need to. As his opponent sprang forward onto his left flank, Roman retained his position and instead allowed the hilt of his lightsaber to ignite in his left hand, catching Vahliri's own saber in her attacking motion with a defensive block, such that his blade was layered inside hers, holding a proximal guarding stance. Roman pivoted out on his left foot in a clockwise motion, increasing the distance between he and Vahliri once again so that he was out of immediate melee range.

Both weapons in hand, trickles of dark force energies circulated around his figure as he planned for what was next. It seemed that Roman had found himself in a bit of situation. This wasn't the first time his romantic advances had gotten him in trouble, there was the Sith Master's daughter on Korriban back in Acolyte days, for which he still wears the lashing scars on his back. On one hand, he realized Vahliri would not relent so easily; he had a choice, he could continue their duel, and if he prevailed, he would most certainly have to explain her death to Master Vex. Not to mention, he doubted he could complete this mission without her diplomacy skills, and a failure would be a tarnishing record against his own aspirations towards Darth.

And so, he did what he felt was most reasonable and logical... He apologized.

"Perhaps I was a bit reckless and inconsiderate in our initial encounter..." He said, "Help me secure the Prince's loyalty? And if you insist, we can finish this later on Korriban..." He asked. Maybe she would agree, maybe she wouldn't... In either case, Roman's sabers and force was wrapped around him prepared to engage, either against the Sith or if the security forces managed to come downstairs and fire upon them...

@Altaris

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

Alex's last trip to this world had been an unequivocal failure. He'd failed to even get an audience with the prince, and were it not for his own ability to twist the situation to his favor, demonstrating that he understood his failure and would work to correct it, he would've likely been sent home a failure. For this to be one of his only missions and for it to end in such an anticlimactic, unsuccessful fashion was a serious stain on his reputation, and it threatened to undermine everything that he had worked for.

Fortunately, he'd won himself the right to attempt at redemption. Once again he'd be sent under the authority of a champion-- two champions, actually-- and unlike last time, he would return home with Dolla won for the Empire.

That had at least been his plan. Obviously there had been changes, and he was arriving separately, after the champions "secured an audience," whatever that was supposed to mean. Something had felt off on the flight towards Dolla, and it only intensified as he reached their landing space. Two shuttles were left outside, with noone attending them... and noone attending the entrance into the building, either. Last time Alexios hadn't thought to even bring his saber on his person, but he made sure to clip it to his belt as he left the shuttle.

"Droid," he called to the pilot, "Should there be an issue, I will send a message on my commlink. Prepare for lift off if such a message arrives." He declared, "Salutor, Domine." The droid answered, the programmed response to every order it received from the young Brentaalan. Striding off in tight fitting robes and a pair of boots that made him a few inches taller than he actually was, Alexios' composed demeanor fell apart the moment he came into contact with the broken body of a guard.

"...what in Sol's name..." He muttered, walking through the halls while he wore an expression of shock and genuine fear. This... this was not what they were supposed to do. Dark eyes darted around, the only sign of life being what sounded like clashes from the sparring grounds back on Dromund Kaas-- before they'd been destroyed in the collapse of rubble in the academy.

Cautiously, Alex made his way down the hall, hand hovering near his hip, ready to draw his blade out and ignite it at a moment's hesitation. He wasn't much of a warrior, but he could hold his own against a couple of guards... though from the sounds of it, it wouldn't be guards he was facing. He finally came upon the source of the noise as he rounded a turn, looking upon the scene in front of him with an expression that could be summarized in a single phrase.

"What the kark?"

The words escaped his mouth in spite of his desire to keep himself removed from the situation. His eyes darted between the hulk of an armored man, and shockingly, a woman shorter than him, wrapped in robes befitting a champion's station. Alexios had a multitude of questions he wanted to ask, and he'd ask them in a shrill, slightly infuriated and panicked tone-- but seeing as the two champions looked like they were in the middle of killing each other, and at least one of them had been responsible for the massacre through the halls, questions came as a secondary priority to "trying not to become another casualty."

So, Alex took a few steps back, and waited to see how they'd resolve their issues... as well as activating his commlink's audio-recording function.

​

@Altaris @Faded

 

[Darth Tempest]

In that moment, Vahliri’s grimace only deepened in its intensity - observing as Roman drew a lightsaber into his left hand to lock against her own. At once, the half-Annfyn shifted her own footwork and the position of her blade in response - giving the fellow Champion no moment of pause or reprieve from her offensive. Without a single word uttered to him, the half-Annfyn shifted her weight and took a single step to the right, moving diagonal and forward in one quick motion - intent upon keeping on the Champion’s flank. Her blade, positioned on the outside of Roman’s block, merely pulled away from the bladelock and followed her - rapidly drawing back into guard position before going another attack.

She kept her eyes trained on Roman when the man stepped backwards, however, Vahliri didn’t immediately follow him back into melee range. Instead, her attention once again shifted onto the man’s right knee. Even if he hadn’t fallen for her trick, the Champion hadn’t done a single thing to interrupt the vice grip she maintained on his joint. Just as Roman pivoted on his left foot, Vahliri intensified her grip on his right knee - tendrils of the Force sinking deep and coiling around the muscle and tendon there like cables of titanium. Just as the man pressed his weight back down onto the leg, Vahliri ruthlessly twisted her wrist in a counterclockwise motion - abruptly yanking the joint against its natural path of movement in an attempt to twist it out of torque.

Given the uninterrupted grip she maintained on the man’s knee, it was a maneuver that would be exceptionally difficult to defend against at the last second. While it purposefully wasn’t enough to completely dislocate the joint, the Champion would undoubtedly be left reeling from the pain that would radiate up from the knee, and would be walking with a limp for the rest of their mission on Dolla if successful.

As was likely expected, Vahliri didn’t care what the man had to say - nor did she give his half-baked attempt at an apology a split-second of her time. Instead, she merely glared at him for a few seconds longer - her crimson lightsaber in her right hand unigniting - though its hilt lingered between her fingers. The half-Annfyn allowed a moment of silence to linger before she finally responded, her gaze never leaving the Champion.

“If you ever attempt to touch me again,” She began, her words frigid and dripping with venom, “They’ll never even find what’s left of you.” The half-Annfyn held his gaze for a moment longer, the tone of her voice and the intensity of her glare indicating that she meant every word she spoke. Only then did Vahliri finally turned on a heel - shifting to face the door ahead. “Deal with your own mess.” She said coldly, making clear reference to the approaching guards. It was his own moronic tactics - or lack thereof - that had drawn the attention of additional security, and Vahliri wasn’t going to lift a finger to deal with the men that were storming their way down to oppose them.

“Acolyte De’jaal,” Vahliri finally turned her attention to the Acolyte at the far side of the room. She wasn’t quite sure when the younger Sith had strolled into the room precisely, but she could only guess he’d seen the better part of the fight. The fact that he didn’t attempt to intervene, at the very least, confirmed he wasn’t without some intelligence. “Come with me,” She said simply. With that, Vahliri stepped forward and through the doors that led towards the Prince’s quarters.

@Faded @Tom

 

[Roman Antilles]

.

Roman snarled at her threat but felt no further need to press the issue, he had a mission to accomplish and a Prince to convince otherwise. As the other Champion departed, he was left to fend by himself against the approaching platoon of guards. Unflinching even in the face of adversity, he wasn't always known for making the smartest decisions but at least he had the conviction to stand with them to deal with consequences. Could he have chosen a different avenue? Perhaps...but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun...

Taking a step backwards, Romans' armored form pulled dark energies around his left hand while the crimson saber remained ignited in his right grip. Crackles of electric power pulsated around his guantlets' contours and as the first of the incoming soldiers stepped through the staircase into their room, Roman released an agonizing stream of Force lightning towards them. He roared in vicious amusement, almost relishing in the act. Further screams and shouts could be heard, increasing the climax of this chaotic situation.

"The King sends his regards...!!" Roman spoke as he attacked next triage of guards, by this time, their number had grown to be of somewhat of an advantage as several of them attempted to wrestle and subdue the Sith Warrior. Though the armored champion was both resilient and strong, and so their struggle continued.

Meanwhile, several guards stood at the foot of the Prince's bed and turned quickly to face the door as both Vahliri and Alexios entered. The lead guard's commlink could be overheard with the cries and struggle ensuing on the ground below them. The prince, a young man of only teenage years looked at the two Sith Warriors.

"Are you here to kill me?"

@Altaris @Tom

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

Alex watched in silence as the fight continued between the two senior Sith, blades continuing to clash together as if he hadn't even arrived. Despite the disparity in size, both seemed locked in stalemate... until, in an abrupt and grisly display, the smaller champion-- who he assumed was the one called "Vahliri Kahtal"-- twisted the leg of the larger armored man, immediately putting her in the upper hand. That the larger one had attempted to bargain in the middle of a fight was just as unexpected. That Vahliri didn't try and take Roman's head confounded the acolyte even further.

More intimidating than the display of violence and her defeat of the more imposing champion was the warning she provided him once the fight was done. It was a rare occasion when the boy witnessed a display of such pure venom and hate, especially after such a visceral display of violence. Yet from how she addressed him, mentioning that he'd tried "touching her" and that the soon to be arriving guards were the result of his actions that he understood Vahliri's disdain for the man. "So this mess of blood and bones is his doing?" He thought, taking a moment to survey the carnage around them.

His gaze narrowed in on the larger man, and under his breathe, he muttered a quick "Leathcheann ktínas," before turning his attention back to the only person there who actually deserved his attention and respect. As she addressed him, he bowed his head. "Salutor, Champion Kahtal." He answered, both to introduction and her instruction. The formalities and the explanation for what had happened could come later-- they only had so much time to convince the prince before his guards overran the wounded champion. Ofcourse, whether or not that would happen was up for debate, and whether or not Alexios gave a shit was just as contentious.

As the doors slid open, Alex and Vahl were greeted with the sight of several guards, and a young man dressed in attire that, while not nearly as impressive as some of the noble dress he'd seen back home, was what had to approximate "royal" garb on such a far off (and ultimately lesser) world as Dolla. While internally Alex had already decided that the prince was his social and political inferior, externally, Alex just shook his head before raising his hands. “I hadnt intended to look that intimidating…” he teased, hoping it’d reduce the very thick tension.

“No, we are not assassins; far from it, your highness,” the acolyte addressed, “Our mission is not to end your life, but to see you ascend to your rightful place as King of Dolla.” He declared, lathering the flattery on as thick as he could without sounding like a complete tool. Glancing at the guards, Alex would say, “You can trust me and my comrade when I say that the violence committed beyond these doors has not been our design.”

So far, Alex hadn’t lied once, but from the expressions on the guard’s faces it was obvious that they weren’t entirely convinced. “We have reports of a hostile wielding a lightsaber tearing through our men; how in the hell do you expect us to believe your yap when one of your own is cutting through our comrades like cake?!” A guard spat, to which Alex very performatively sighed. “Why, sir, would we be speaking to you if we intended to slaughter you and his grace? Make of what goes on out there as you will, but don’t for a moment suggest that we came for blood.”

@Faded @Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

If Vahliri had heard even a single thing that Alexios said to her, it decidedly didn’t manifest on the half-Annfyn’s features. It was abundantly clear that the entire exchange with Roman had left her agitated, and her amber-hued eyes remained straight ahead as she marched through the hallway - rounding a corner and closing in on the chamber where the Prince was waiting for them. Though she didn’t clip the hilt back to her belt, Vahliri un-ignited the crimson blade of her saber before stepping into the room - amber eyes snapping between the small contingent of Royal guards and the Prince cloistered off in the corner of the room.

For a few moments, the half-Annfyn merely listened - her fluted ears twitching ever-so-slightly as she observed the exchange between the Acolyte and Prince. Insufferably pretentious mannerisms aside, the Champion paid close enough to what Alexios had to say and the story he spun to the guards. He didn’t lie, but omitting the actual reasons for the slaughter outside was likely in their best interest - and it didn’t take the half-Annfyn more than a few seconds of recalibration to come up with a method of approach. “As my colleague said,” Vahliri began, keeping her hands casually at her side. “We weren't sent here to kill you, Highness. Quite the opposite, actually.” She tilted her head ever-so-slightly - a suddenly critical gaze flicking over to the pair of Royal guards.

“The same - however - cannot be said about your own men beyond those doors.” The half-Annfyn jutted her chin back towards the hallway where they had just come, and where Roman was likely still battling with security. “According to our own Intelligence, members of your own security were stationed here with the intention of assassinating the Prince in his sleep. The Empire has an interest in ensuring that does not come to pass.”

It went without saying - if true - where the order’s would’ve come from. It was a lie, and one that she was confident would cause suspicion and disdain to turn directly onto the King. And, if Roman managed to do his job correctly - just this once - then there would be no one left alive to dispute the half-Annfyn’s claims. "Your comrades, as you so affectionately reference them, planned to murder the very man you are sworn to protect. I can only wonder if you share in their intentions."

@Tom @Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

.

Roman had to hand it to Vahliri, she was pretty quick witted when it came to the right moment. Perhaps it was the right move to make amends with her even though he was highly annoyed at her soft diplomatic approaches. Nonetheless, he would play into her deception and help all three of them walk away with a victory. Continued to be surrounded by troops, three men had attempted to wrestle him and pin his armored figure to the ground. He roared out in retaliation and the ensuing physical struggle showcased the champion's unyielding resolve.

Fingers clenched into a tight fist with his left as he sprang it backwards to catch one guard with a punishing backhanded blow, while a cone of concussive blast echoed out from his open palm and hurled the other two against the wall with thunderous impact. Pressing off his back foot, Roman pedaled forwards to take an advantage of this opportunity, bringing his crimson lightsaber into both a stabbing motion followed by a twirl and slash to dismember the two that were stunned by the force push. The last remaining soldier was caught in a force choke as tendrils wrapped around his neck and hoisted him into the air with feet dangling several inches off the ground.

A quick lightsaber toss ended that matter and for once, there was silence in the room. Roman sighed momentarily, taking a few moments to gather himself and catch his breath as he lifted his commlink and spoke into it. "All hostiles neutralized..." Hopefully Vahliri and the acolyte were playing their cards right and could use that last statement to further convince the prince of this ploy.

Back in the throne room however, things were continuing to be tense. One of the soldiers near the Prince, the captain of his guards snarled at Vahliri's sentiment that suggested his loyalties were corrupted. A vibrosword came out and pointed it at a threatening manner towards the Champion. "You dare question my allegiance to the prince?!" He snarled out in discontent.

Before things could get escalate, one of the other Lieutenants spoke as well. "Hmmm, perhaps the Sith has some merit your highness..." He said, causing both the Captain and the Prince to glance at his general direction. "There has been a rift recently in the guards, I've noticed it for several weeks. It seems a good portion of them prefer their shifts protecting either the King or when you're asleep.. Perhaps, the pattern suggests a darker plot?" He asked, curiosity coming to his face as he looked towards the two Sith to see if they could shed some light on this new development.

@Altaris @Tom

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

Whatever angle Vahl was going to take, he hadn't expected her to go the route that she did. Manipulation was one thing, but such a bold faced lie? It was a gamble of the highest stakes, one he wouldn't have made unless he knew any loose ends could be tied up-- namely, any and all who could prove that they were lying. That meant that the king himself would either have to be dragged off or killed. It was very risky-- even a slight slip up could lead to them being completely undone.

But if they succeeded...

"A young, impressionable boy, thinking he owes us his life, and his throne, given total power over this world." The possible success would be total. The Sith would have dominion over this world so long as he reigned, and with how young he was, that could be a very long time. He had to admit that there was a part of him who thought that this was to risky-- that Vahl was being reckless and that they ought to play it safe.

But they'd played it safe last time, and as such, he'd failed. Temperance, that virtue that had been impressed upon him since childhood, was a chain-- one that he had to break if they were to achieve victory. Refocusing his attention on the protests of the guards-- earnest as they were, Alexios merely cocked an eyebrow in an expression of skepticism. "You sound more concerned with defending your ego than protecting your sovereign." He replied, before black eyes turned back to the young prince.

"...and I don't believe we even mentioned your loyalty. We brought up that some of your comrades are plotting the death of the one you're sworn to protect. How does questioning theirs mean we're questioning yours?" The boy asked. More than likely, the guard had either used imprecise language, or had been so offended by the charge against members of his unit that he'd taken it personally. There was some sick irony in the fact that the guard's reaction to a question regarding his honor only managed to further undermine it.

The guard in question was staring at the boy with near murderous intent, and were it not for the Lieutenant's intervention, he would've probably acted on it. Through the momentary exchange Alex's heart had begun thumping in his chest, hand instinctively falling to his belt, but his posture relaxed as the other guard began speaking about the apparent "rift." Whether it was genuine, imagined, or a ploy to win the Sith's favor, it was a perfect talking point to jump on.

"You're certainly more vigilant than your fellows; what you're describing is one of the many developments that led to our coming here," Alex declared-- the first lie, spoken without a hint of deceit, "We recognized the makings of the plot months ago, but the sudden shift in the changing of the guard was what told us that an attempt on your life was soon to follow. With less and less guards on your person, it would be all to easy to end your life." Alex declared.

"You've known for months that the prince's life was at risk, and you only now inform us?" the earlier guard asked, Notably, he didn't even question if what Alex had said was true-- merely questioned why they'd done what he said they had. "I had attempted to reach the prince a few months ago, but I was obstructed by the palace staff and the staff at his grace's school." He declared; a half truth, with the truth of his failure being the only one that could be empirically proven.

"We arrived here with the intentions of protecting his grace and sharing this very information, but rather than be met with obstruction, my colleagues were attacked without provocation... a mistake that the attackers in question doubtlessly regretted as they were cut down." Alex finished, his voice dropping half an octave as he spoke the last line. It was an intricate tapestry that he'd woven off the cuff, with relatively few loose ends that could be used to unravel it.

@Faded @Altaris