Croisé De Lumière: Flight Of The Dragon(open)

[Kelt Simoson]

2 weeks before his arrival at the GJO

Kelt turned right so fast his cape flapped in the air.

His luck was good as he raised his sword just in time to block the huge axe that the Gerern had tried to smash Kelts head open with. Kelt rolled back over a alter and landed perfectly back onto his feet.

The Gerern jumped up onto the alter swiping another hard blow towards the Crusader, again and without luck this time his sword was there to block the speeding hunk of metal from severing his head from the rest of his holy body. By this time the Gerrn was getting very frustrated jumping down off the alter with a earth shuddering thud that made Kelt stumble slightly back.

' YOOOU AACHIM ARE TOOOOO FOOOLISH TO DESTROY SUCH A POOOOWERFULL CREATURE AS I!' Said the Gerern his ugly hutt looking face looking down to the small Aachim as he slowly advanced his axe up against his chest.

'Ugly beast of Evil...your strength is no match for the force or for the spirit of the Aarchim...live in peace dark one and live!' said Kelt seemingly out of breath

As Kelt laid upon his back the Gerern towered over the Crusader and with one all mighty swipe down with his axe he could sworn he had hit the Aarchim with so much incredible force that his body lay in two, but no, Keltroled to the right quickly and with the strength he had left kicked the hand that held the mighty axe s hard the gerern let go.

The axe fell and hit the cobbled street with another earth shuddering bang. then with one jab of his sword Kelt had dug Juran directly into one of the hearts of the Gerern and quickly receded the sword quickly before the sword fell back with him and with a sickening thud he beast fell to the streets floor.

'Live in peace friend of the earth...and rest well...' Kelt said getting up from his back.


But the battle was not won from the invaiders...the town was still swarming with the Dark Side.

[Ilyn Pyke]

The darksider departed the enjoyable crisp winter breeze and entered an establishment aptly named the "Laughin Gaoler". The land was entering it's winter solstice while citizens were preparing for a celebration of it's passage bringing much festivities. Also attracting many thieves and other societal dregs to mingle among the celebrants like wolves among unwary sheep. The tavern was buzzing loudly with drunken and excited patrons. Many peoples of diverse backgrounds and race. Ilyn Pyke stood a moment in the doorway glancing around, his bodiment in shadow indistinct from dark alleyway beyond him. A couple of farmers sat by the door discussing last year's poor harvest and the new one to be planted after the last frost of winter.

He took slow calculated steps to the bar while reaching out through the Darkside, probing for any essence of the Force present. The darksider found none nor did that surprise him. Ilyn Pyke was here to dispatch an Holy Crusader of the Jedi Order whom bore his anointed office with honor and pride. He drops the cowl of his cloak as his eyes take in the room. A couple of wenches, one Twi-lek and the other human, in the back of the room giggling and shaking their bosoms at three onplanet pilots enjoying free docktime between journeys, hoping to relieve the pilot's of their under the table wages. Promising a few hours of pleasure. While Ilyn watched, he noted an exchange hand gestures and small motions between the wenches. One of the pilot's called out loudly for the barmaid to deliver more meltdowns. The three lovesick fools will be rolled of their hard earned credits before dawn arises. Smirking, Ilyn returns his attention back to his immediate proximity, calling out to the tender and slamming a credit on the bartop. He ordered Gruria Torash. A stimulating drink that would not dull his acute awareness of his surroundings. Keeping his mind sharp and focused.

A drunken trandoshan stumbled past and decided he did not like the way Ilyn looked nor dressed. The alien's powerful taloned hand fell on Ilyn's shoulder while the reptile spewed gibberish about the darksider being the bastard son of a hairless wookie and a toydarian. Ilyn's anger and fury flashed ice cold. The trandoshan evidently felt it too and the churning storm of the darkside rolled like wave on the trandoshan. His hand lifted slowly from the darksider's shoulder while Ilyn spun around on the massive antagonist. The trandoshan took another step back while his taloned hand wavered near the blaster holstered on his hip. The establishment quieted and everything ceased. Barmaids that would normaly pace about the room suddenly stopped and cleared away into the safe havens of the shadows. The seconds passed like an eternity for the alien before his hand went quickly for the weapon. Before the tip of a single claw even made contact with the blaster's grip the silence was broken by the ominous snap-hiss of a lightsaber and a flash of luminiscent red. The reptoid fell to the floor, split neatly in two from his left hip to right shoulder.

The crowd watched silently with astonished expressions as Ilyn in a single fluid motion deactivated the lightsaber and re-clipped the weapon to his belt. He passed through the doorway without further word or glance.

[Kelt Simoson]

Kelt had killed a Gerern, a huge green colored beast that stood at least 9 feet tall and he was a smaller race of Gerern. The creatures relied more on strength and huge weapons more than they did speed and skill and alas one day that will be there down fall.

Kelt checked over the little children that the beast nearly crushed under his foot and the little girl was fine other than bumps and bruises, had Kelt not gotten there sooner the girl named Elly would have only been a pile of blood and flesh..nothing more. The girl gave Kelt a kiss on the cheek and so did the mother, Kelt gave a wide grin his face as red as the core of the sun before he set off down the road again towards the main part of town.

It was only late morning and so the market was full of people from all walks of life shufferling through the buisy town center, from his brother race the Aarchim to wookie and human, every stall you could imagine were selling there goods, from fruit and vegetables to weapons and grenades. which of course the Crusader did not approve off, but it was the councils desision not his, he was just a member of the Crusader Guild a very small select number of people like the jedi who protect the lands of Shazmack without aid of fancy technology.

The local Inn was open, it was rare it was open this time of the day, but due to the festivities the Inn always opened early for the celebrations, Kelt found it odd however than the door was shut on a crisp mid winter day such as this, more often than not the Bar was open to all and very welcoming, he dismissed the silly thought and carried on his patrol of the town sqaure, laughing and joking with a few villagers while he was in town, talking to the little boys and girls even on occasion would he join in a game with the children before remembering he was on duty as it were.

Every so often however he kept looking back and forth at the Inn...so quiet and lonely it looked when userly it was full of life,he had a feeling that mabey not all was up to par and so with a steady walk he started to make his way towards the quiet tavern to see what was all the silence about....

[Ilyn Pyke]

Ilyn walked naked through the early mists before dawn armed with a longsword, all around he heard the neighing and snorting of a mysterious beast. It frightened him. Looking furtively left and right, once again ahead but whatever this creature was it remained hidden in the mist, beyond his perception. He also heard the low ring of clashing metal circling him. Finally the fog broke before him, behold, a figure clad in queer black armor sitting upon the strangest animal Ilyn had ever laid his eyes on. This figure also had great wings. It dismounted and spoke, "Aye, you have no fellowship with us either."

"Nooooo!", the darksider screamed, raising his longsword. The armor-bearer held up a commanding hand but Ilyn was too full of rage and the sword descended with a mighty stroke. The blade struck the armor's rondel and exploded into a thousand dangerous shards. A sudden great blast of wind threw Ilyn far from the knight in black.

When the world ceased spinning and twirling around him, Ilyn found himself held bound to the silk of a great web. Shadows move above him. A formless figure resembling a spider descends upon him from above. With a few quick motions it was right above him, Ilyn shivers, the creature's legs quickly embrace him. It's face, vaguely human, peers into his eyes. The creature whispers, the voice silken and seductive, imprisons his willpower. The words it speaks promise sweet rest for his weary soul. The creature's visage draws ever closer as soft lips brush his neck. His eyes grow heavylidded. Suddenly a sharp pain causes him to twitch and fight his imprisonment. Ilyn heart began to race as he felt bared fangs bite quick and hard into his flesh with blood-thirsty lust. Rending a hidious wound. Yet the pain was fairly dull, discomforting but managable, if it were not for the horror of feeling his lifefluids spurting so forcefully from his torn throat.

"No", he awakens with a gasp holding his neck. Nearby in the outskirts of the town children are at play, crying with joy and giggling. They of all the villagers were completely oblivious to the dark visitation that passed the previous eve. These same young folk had awakened Ilyn Pyke out of his restless sleep lying amongst the hay atop the loft in an ancient watchtower. Eyes open, the darksider lies watching red drops of wine drip freely from the nearly empty skin. He lazily turns over and rises up from the bed of hay. Walking over to the crenel, he cast his eyes out towards the dawn of a new day.

The children's voices draw his attention yet again. He smirks. Watching them chase and hiding from one another. Disinterested Ilyn turns away and descends the winding staircase within the remains of the tower. Reaching the final floor and approaching the entrance when a young girl dashes around the corner colliding with the darksider.

She lets out a startled cry, eyes wide. He smiles and speaks with low, soft voice, "Hello little one, there is no need to be frightened. I mean no harm. Where is your parents, little one?"

She looks at the floor, then back at the doors, taking a deep breathe with brow furrowed, "They are at home, sir."

Ilyn chuckles lightly lowering himself on one knee, "Safe I dearly hope?"

The girl squints one eye and nods, "Uh-huh. Honest." A gloved hand reaches up and strokes her cheek. Her brow furrows once again with uncertainty. Ilyn's grin altered subtlely.

"What is your name, sweet one?"

"Frieda. Frieda Cordan, sir."

Grinning, Ilyn asks, "Do you like heros and knights young Frieda?"

She shakes her head, "No I like princesses and fair maidens. My friends say the kiss of a prince can turn toads into damsels and damsels into wood. That is why we have so many trees, they say. Honest. I never want to be kissed by a prince. Are you a knight, sir?"

The darksider laughs, "Of course I am."

"Why are you dressed in black not white, sir? Our knights always dress in white and they look so pretty, sir."

"Well I am a different knight from a far off place", he says pointing towards the skies and stars beyond them.

Rising up, Ilyn towers over the small child, offering her his hand to take. Frieda looks up with a hand above her brow to fight the blinding glare of the sun. "Where are we going, sir? I can't go because my mom will get angry."

Ilyn leads her around to face him again, stooping over, he places a forefinger against her little lips. "Shhhhh."

Frieda's worried face relaxes with an calm gaze coming over her as she repeats, "Shhhhh."

[Kelt Simoson]

'Last night some madman came in here dressed as some kind of Knight in black Armour, he seemed to be of the dark side, he came waltzing in here like he was some god and split Mason nearly in two with his lightsaber.' The shaken bar tender said his eyes not meeting Kelts.

Kelt looked down to the floor, still some blood from the victim spilt on the red and white mat. Kelt looked back up at the bar tender for a few moments trying to figure out in his own head who it could be...he thought he had killed the Gerern...but then the killer would have been unmistakably tall, the bar at this time late morning was empty and more people hung around at the merket stalls, the shouts and calls from the market could even be heard in the tavern.

'Ill see what i can do...Herolen the Crusader is more than 40 leuges away..i cant contact him to help me, so it looks like its me and me alone...does this town not have police?..security?' Said Kelt..already knowing the answer...

'Kelt...' He said sounding disappointed.

' You travel the lands of Shazmack endlessly and your mother is part of the Shazmack council...if anyone it should be you who knows that we have no safegaurd other than you Crusaders..' He said sliding a dark Ale over the Kelt.

Kelt ignored the ale for several moments before taking a long sip of it.

'There are only 58 Crusaders in the whole of the galaxy and only 7 of them are on Shazmak right now...we cant safeguard this planet to the best of our abilities without more Crusaders..and only the chosen get to be part of it...you know that old timer...' Kelt said sipping the amber ale once more.

'Something else puzzles me...' Kelt continued not letting the Barman respond to his last words.

'A girl named Frieda Cordan went missing this morning and that was my main aim of finding you today old friend, and this death last night just adds to the confusion of the village her mother came running up to me screaming and shouting that her daughter went missing a few hours ago after her playing only feet from the cottage...could it of been this "Knight"?' Kelt said looking up towards the tender.

'Your the Crusader here...we rely on you to protect us Kelt...if it is this guy kidnapping and killing people in our village...hes out to make a point...care full young friend.'

Kelt nodded softly towards the bar tender before downing his ale and paying his fair.

' NO!..its on the house kelt...just...just find the girl...'

Kelt nodded again and exited the bar.

[Ilyn Pyke]

Darkness began to reclaim the land of Shazmack, the renaissance pangeantry of the festival marking the winter solstice was in full swing as shazmacki and offworlder alike crowded the streets with dance and music. The whole town was alit by torches and nearly every corner troubadours performed. Participants clothed in colors representing the coming season and fruition of their labors. Greens for harvest and fertility, gold for prosperity, white for peace, red for love, purple for health, etc. All adorned in varying elaborate costume and dress. It was a tradition followed by natives for nearly four hundred years now, since during the rule of Arhai. The taverns were packed to the cobblestone streets and in dark passages women, often in red, offered a very ancient trade beneath the eyes of authorities. Little has changed on this backwater world though there have been many advances. However it still remained a world full of paradoxes, with a fair mix of the old and new, ancient crafts and culture were bedfellows with modern technological wizardry.

Tonight provided the perfect cover for Ilyn Pyke. Allowing him to maneuver through the streets and alleyways without gaining suspicion of any of the townsfolk. His lithe body enshrouded within the dark shadow of a great black cloak. Giving Ilyn the very image of a spectre from old tales and superstitions. This very night, black represented death and illness. He smirked to himself thinking silently, 'This is very fitting'. A few times he had passed a celebrant dressed in black, rebellious souls defying longstanding tradition. A jest accepted by most others without offense.

Marching down one of the dimly-lit streets, when laughter and soft voices in a corner nearby causes him to look quickly in their direction. A young couple had apparently eloped from the festival. The three stare briefly at one another. Ilyn's eyes shift beyond at his very image reflected in a glass pane. His mask is pale with a monstrous hooked nose and massive knobby chin projecting straightwards. What a grotesque yet beautiful image. The couple exchange words and slip away quickly.

Moving on, he finally arrives at his destiny. Kelt Simoson's personal quarters. The darksider removes a small object from his belt. The electronic lockbreaker has no trouble overriding the bolts. Looking left and right, satisfied, he passes through the door and closes it behind himself. Retrieving a much larger device from beneath his cloak, Ilyn lies it down on the crusader's desk for his discovery.

Upon the holovid projector is recording made earlier within the caverns of Ansda, which only permits entrance by one single narrow passage. In the recording, a shadowy image of Ilyn Pyke stands. Beyond him, all around is a great cavernous hollow. Well lit by burning torches encircling the area, hanging from sconces hammered in the natural outer walls.

A machiavellian face, eyes closely set like a predator's, smirks from underneath the black cowl. "Kelt Simoson, your presence and discretion is required at Ansda... alone! A simple choice... your life for her life. Or her life for your's. Any infractions to these conditions will result in immediate and sure tragedy."

The image pans far beyond him, revealing young Frieda imprisoned in an iron cage hanging from a great chain high above the cavern floor. Her sobbing echoes through the natural catacomb.

[Kelt Simoson]

The front of the caves were dark and dangerous. By now it was already dark and it had taken him nearly an hour to get to the site that rested on the edge of the sea. Kelt looked into the cave, no lights no signs of life...could this have been a trap, known sith it was possible.

Kelt slid his back off and searched inside it for the lamp he carried, it took him a few moments to oil it up and light it, but once it was done it was done and with a little fear the Crusader entered the forgotten caves, it was only a few minutes into the walk when around the corner shone a low light, kelt blow out his land and had drawn his sword in a matter of seconds the sharp clinking sound perhaps more noisy than he wanted to to be.

Taking one step at a time the jedi began his journey into the huge cavern ahead of him, waiting there..was the Darksider.

OOC: sorry its quick...

[Ilyn Pyke]

Ilyn felt the essence of Simoson approaching long before his keen ears heard the Jedi slide the sword from it's scabbard. Thankfully, she had long stopped sobbing and crying. High above, a grimy tear-stained face of the young girl peered through the bars of the iron cage. Immersed in shadow to the left side of the cavern's great belly, where torchlight can not prevail, Ilyn Pyke listened intently to every step the young knight took.

He had chosen the cavern because it provided a natural fortification against an invading garrison (or mob of angry villagers) but also offered an excellent means of trapping a Jedi. Besides, Ansda was rich in history, once used by the barbaric ancestors of the kazmacki as means of practising dark arts and abominable acts of violence. It is feared and shunned by the natives to this day. Ilyn felt at home in the cavern, his mind relaxed, breathing softly, his heart beat calmly, a feeling of kinship washed over him as if an residue remained of it's haunted past permaneated through it's very walls and communed with his black soul.

The steps drew closer, louder, until he seen the glint of a sword's blade glimmering in the flames of encircling torches. Simoson hesitantly broke the threshold, taking a final step towards destiny's crux. His white surcoat shone brightly in the torchlight save the red cross emblazoned on the chest. Simoson's face was stern and wary as his eyes searched the encompassing shadows of the looming catacomb. Ilyn smirked in the midst of the darkness as he observed the young knight take a sharp, startled breathe when his eyes finally fell on the young girl high above. Hanging precarously within a cage. It pleased him immensely to see the lightsader's emotions so plainly.

"Do not fret, good sir Kelt, Frieda is perfectly fine. Shaken but not broken... yet," a melodious voice called out, echoing through the hollow.

Ilyn melted out of the shadows, dressed in black linen with a solid black surcoat, no sigil nor heraldry represented on it. His black cloak swayed with every subtle movement, held fastened by a silver chain. Upon his calves were steel guards, likewise on his forearms. A smirk grew on Ilyn's face..

"Simoson, your Order of Chivalry is repulsive and has a history paved in blood. Noble sons, dubbed by lords, honored by kings and queens, and sanctified by religious leaders. Oh good knight, what of the villages you pillaged, the commoners you raped, and the blood of the innocent you spilled? Eh, have you no rebuke or retort?"

Ilyn Pyke studied Kelt's face for traces of doubt and fear as his hand fell upon on the handle of a longsword sheathed on his belt. The very weapon a knight commited his life to, swore fealty to his liege upon, and eventually laid to eternal rest with.

Choking back insidious laughter, he spoke, "Or defense?"


OOC: NP, it doesn't matter!

[Kelt Simoson]

Quickly Kelt was comfronted with the darkone within the fortess of a cavern it was not a pretty sight. The girl hung suspended high in a steel cage above quite a number of jagged and sharp rocked below. If the cage would fall she would be dead instantly.

Kelt steped step by step into the high roofed cavern and came within a few feet of the dark one looking at him dead into the eye without a single word. He quickly poped his neck, the silece was intence, to girls squirming was quite load but the gag stoped her from screaming.

' Its okay young one, i am here now..i wont let him hurt you' kelt said not taking his eyes away from the mans face, his sword upright into a defencive position.

'Take me and slaughter me but dont halm the young one...there is not need to kill a young girl of that age...only cowards kill young girls.' Kelt said not once taking his eyes of off the mans eyes