The feeling grows within...
He had felt traces of this mystery in stints as he'd grown older, and often wondered what this meant. Tyrrazapon rested in the quarters of his ship the Nefarion Wraith and pondered the feelings that strengthened within as he drew closer to his destination.
He had left his home world a mere four years prior after the incident with his father in search of some answer to why all the misfortunes of the galaxy seemed to crash down upon him.
Presently, the thought of this mysterious power could not be shaken from his mind. He remembered feeling it when he'd persuaded his captors to let him go, and remembered being confused at how easily they'd agreed. He remembered the chilling feeling he had gathered as he ran his father's lightsaber through his slumbering chest, and the thought of it made him shudder. Not from grief or guilt, but because he had felt alive and complete.
December 18, 2008
52. Enter Tyrrazapon
Name: Lord Tyrrazapon
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Age: 22
Homeworld: Karfeddion
Appearance: 6'1" 155 lbs. Medium build. Jaw-length black hair (sometimes dyed white). Dark brown eyes that seem almost black. Mostly seen wearing enormous black cloak with orange fringes and cuffs, with train-length back. Combat attire is usually sleeveless black tunic with black boots and pants.
Special signs: Very distinct, elongated scarring along his back.
WEAPONS: Wields a dark orange lightsaber as primary weapon for now. Sometimes seen with short dagger-type lightsaber.
SHIP: The Nefarion Wraith
BIO:The troubled son of a noble Jedi Knight, Tyr was raised on Jedi beliefs, customs and standards. His father often schooled him on Jedi arts and philosophy at an early age, hoping to send him away as a youngling.
Tyr's brilliant mind quickly soaked in his fathers teachings, but doubt and question began to trickle into his thoughts early on. As he grew older and began a more social lifestyle with friends he quickly strayed away from the beliefs his father had ingrained in his mind.
His father noticed early signs of rebellion and acting out, and attempted to increase his teachings, and discipline, serving only to drive Tyr further away. He became violent and even harmful toward his peers, leaving his father with no other choice but to send him to his own former master for more training. He hoped this move could get him back on the right track and save his son from failure.
The decision failed, having the opposite effect, brewing resentment within Tyr's heart. While Tyr's ship traveled away to rendezvous with his new teacher, the ship was pirated by slave traders and soon he was sold into bondage. He was treated horrifically while in captivity, and acquired many scars on his back from numerous beatings. He blamed his father for this misfortune and the ordeal all but severed any kindred feelings Tyr had left for his father.
While enslaved under his new master, he met a fellow slave, a girl whom he took very much interest in. The two of them grew fond of each other and became very close friends. Tyr often thought that she helped calm his soul and keep the bad thoughts away.
When Tyr was 14, commotion broke out in his master's household and his confidant was killed. This sent him spiraling further into darkness and despair and 4 years later had managed to persuade those around him to let him go.
He immediately set a course for home, and wasted no time in disposing of the origin of his grief. He murdered his father with his own orange lightsaber in his sleep, and set off on his own. He spent the next 4 years traveling in a ship he acquired with his father's savings in search of some answers to his dark and broken life.
Tyr gathered information that eventually led him to Nar Shaddaa, where he was told he could find answers to these troubled thoughts of his. He changed his name to Tyrrazapon and set out to find anything that could explain his misfortune.
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Age: 22
Homeworld: Karfeddion
Appearance: 6'1" 155 lbs. Medium build. Jaw-length black hair (sometimes dyed white). Dark brown eyes that seem almost black. Mostly seen wearing enormous black cloak with orange fringes and cuffs, with train-length back. Combat attire is usually sleeveless black tunic with black boots and pants.
Special signs: Very distinct, elongated scarring along his back.
WEAPONS: Wields a dark orange lightsaber as primary weapon for now. Sometimes seen with short dagger-type lightsaber.
SHIP: The Nefarion Wraith
BIO:The troubled son of a noble Jedi Knight, Tyr was raised on Jedi beliefs, customs and standards. His father often schooled him on Jedi arts and philosophy at an early age, hoping to send him away as a youngling.
Tyr's brilliant mind quickly soaked in his fathers teachings, but doubt and question began to trickle into his thoughts early on. As he grew older and began a more social lifestyle with friends he quickly strayed away from the beliefs his father had ingrained in his mind.
His father noticed early signs of rebellion and acting out, and attempted to increase his teachings, and discipline, serving only to drive Tyr further away. He became violent and even harmful toward his peers, leaving his father with no other choice but to send him to his own former master for more training. He hoped this move could get him back on the right track and save his son from failure.
The decision failed, having the opposite effect, brewing resentment within Tyr's heart. While Tyr's ship traveled away to rendezvous with his new teacher, the ship was pirated by slave traders and soon he was sold into bondage. He was treated horrifically while in captivity, and acquired many scars on his back from numerous beatings. He blamed his father for this misfortune and the ordeal all but severed any kindred feelings Tyr had left for his father.
While enslaved under his new master, he met a fellow slave, a girl whom he took very much interest in. The two of them grew fond of each other and became very close friends. Tyr often thought that she helped calm his soul and keep the bad thoughts away.
When Tyr was 14, commotion broke out in his master's household and his confidant was killed. This sent him spiraling further into darkness and despair and 4 years later had managed to persuade those around him to let him go.
He immediately set a course for home, and wasted no time in disposing of the origin of his grief. He murdered his father with his own orange lightsaber in his sleep, and set off on his own. He spent the next 4 years traveling in a ship he acquired with his father's savings in search of some answers to his dark and broken life.
Tyr gathered information that eventually led him to Nar Shaddaa, where he was told he could find answers to these troubled thoughts of his. He changed his name to Tyrrazapon and set out to find anything that could explain his misfortune.
51. The Search for Darth Vikon - Raezyr
Raezyr limped up behind Trchon and put his hand on his shoulder. "I was really struggling as to whether or not we made the right decision in letting these two live. Now we know better," he said as they both watched the informant die, the blackened flesh of his neck popping and hissing as Trychon held the point in his throat for what seemed like hours.
"Remeber what it feels like to offer mercy and trust, and be betrayed. Use it. I know that I will."
Trychon finally withdrew his lightsaber and they both looked up and around as if seeing the area for the first time.
People had filed out of the Outlander and other buildings around to watch the commotion, apparently unafraid of being hurt themselves.
Raezyr spoke under his breath, "C'mon Trych. Let's get out....... Wait! That guy right there in the black cloak trimmed in orange!" Raezyr had been scanning the crowd as he spoke, doing his best to use the Force to detect more trouble. His internal alarms went wild when he looked at the man.
"I see him," said Trychon, doing his best to get a better look without be overt about it.
"That's gotta be Vikon! I can't believe he's alive! This may be our only chance," he said to Trychon. "Be ready for anything, he may not like this."
I hope he knows what he's doing, thought Trychon.
"You!" Raezyr shouted, pointing his gloved hand at the mysterious individual. The crowd split in two leaving only the black and orange cloaked man. "We would have a word with you!" Raezyr strode forward, black cloak billowing around his black and midnight blue armor. He did his best not to limp and tried to ignore the pain. He reached his right hand down to his utility belt and checked the placement of the hilt of his long saber... just in case things didn't go well...
"Remeber what it feels like to offer mercy and trust, and be betrayed. Use it. I know that I will."
Trychon finally withdrew his lightsaber and they both looked up and around as if seeing the area for the first time.
People had filed out of the Outlander and other buildings around to watch the commotion, apparently unafraid of being hurt themselves.
Raezyr spoke under his breath, "C'mon Trych. Let's get out....... Wait! That guy right there in the black cloak trimmed in orange!" Raezyr had been scanning the crowd as he spoke, doing his best to use the Force to detect more trouble. His internal alarms went wild when he looked at the man.
"I see him," said Trychon, doing his best to get a better look without be overt about it.
"That's gotta be Vikon! I can't believe he's alive! This may be our only chance," he said to Trychon. "Be ready for anything, he may not like this."
I hope he knows what he's doing, thought Trychon.
"You!" Raezyr shouted, pointing his gloved hand at the mysterious individual. The crowd split in two leaving only the black and orange cloaked man. "We would have a word with you!" Raezyr strode forward, black cloak billowing around his black and midnight blue armor. He did his best not to limp and tried to ignore the pain. He reached his right hand down to his utility belt and checked the placement of the hilt of his long saber... just in case things didn't go well...
December 14, 2008
50. The Search for Darth Vikon - Trychon
His attempted back flip ended up being more of a crash landing as well... his feet touched first which he told himself was a partial victory... but then his momentum carried him towards the blast, rolling on his side. Regardless, he knew he'd be in better shape than the thugs were.
After his body came to rest, he slowly climbed up coughing and trying to keep breathing. Bruised. He thought to himself. It hurts, but you'll be fine. End this and get Raezyr to the the ship.
He walked up to the rubble and saw a blaster poke out from the side of some of the cover it had created. He sidestepped the first few bolts of the blind fire and closed the space as quick as he could. He ignited his lightsaber and thrust it through the piece of debris just to the right of the blaster. He heard a man scream and drop the blaster.
He picked it up and walked around the junk to see the man with a hole in his arm writhing in pain. It was the man that they'd left unconscious earlier. Obviously he had not only forgotten his lesson from then... he had certainly lied in not telling them about their 'contact'.
Furious, he said to himself Never again. and thrust his left hand forward, propelling the blade into the gut of the henchman and left it there for a second while he glared into the pupils of the dying man.
He walked over to the other bodies on the ground... some were moving and some weren't. He wasted no time at all in raising his right hand to use the blaster on them. Still glaring, he put neat little holes in each forehead he came across... breathing or not.
Finally, he came to the last body. Slowly trying to pull himself out of the mess... the 'informant' caught the glare from Trychon.
"You." Trychon attached the gun to his belt and gripped his saber with both hands.
The informant looked the most scared Trychon had ever seen in a grown man. It made him feel better. The man started to speak "I... Iaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!!!!!!!"
As he opened his lips to form words, Trychon put the tip of the blade to the man's throat and slowly drove it through to the ground.
After his body came to rest, he slowly climbed up coughing and trying to keep breathing. Bruised. He thought to himself. It hurts, but you'll be fine. End this and get Raezyr to the the ship.
He walked up to the rubble and saw a blaster poke out from the side of some of the cover it had created. He sidestepped the first few bolts of the blind fire and closed the space as quick as he could. He ignited his lightsaber and thrust it through the piece of debris just to the right of the blaster. He heard a man scream and drop the blaster.
He picked it up and walked around the junk to see the man with a hole in his arm writhing in pain. It was the man that they'd left unconscious earlier. Obviously he had not only forgotten his lesson from then... he had certainly lied in not telling them about their 'contact'.
Furious, he said to himself Never again. and thrust his left hand forward, propelling the blade into the gut of the henchman and left it there for a second while he glared into the pupils of the dying man.
He walked over to the other bodies on the ground... some were moving and some weren't. He wasted no time at all in raising his right hand to use the blaster on them. Still glaring, he put neat little holes in each forehead he came across... breathing or not.
Finally, he came to the last body. Slowly trying to pull himself out of the mess... the 'informant' caught the glare from Trychon.
"You." Trychon attached the gun to his belt and gripped his saber with both hands.
The informant looked the most scared Trychon had ever seen in a grown man. It made him feel better. The man started to speak "I... Iaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!!!!!!!"
As he opened his lips to form words, Trychon put the tip of the blade to the man's throat and slowly drove it through to the ground.
49. The Search for Darth Vikon - Trychon
Trychon turned around only to see the Outlander club coming up VERY quickly... and there was a group of men in front of it, although he couldn't get a good look at them. Fearing a collision, Trychon hopped down into the seat again, watching the impending wall grow closer.
Suddenly, a river of fire opened up from a turret in the middle of the group, right as Raezyr made a sharp turn into one of the many allys... and then brought the bike to a halt with a slight bit of help from the building.
Despite wincing in pain I can't imagine how Raezyr feels Trychon managed to get out of the sidecar and help his driver off of the bike as well.
He peaked his head out around the corner ever to get a look and see if they were advancing on them. He got a quick look before a row of large red bolts struck the corner of the wall as he retreated. He was stung in the face by a few glowing chunks of wall.
"FUCK. I don't think I'll be blocking that blaster..."
He'd gotten a decent enough look though and had seen that there was roughly five or six men there. The good news seemed to be that they were willing to stay behind the safety of their mounted weapon. Not exactly the high point he was hoping for... but certainly better than nothing. He could hear them chuckling and heckling him from around the corner, but he knew he had at least a moment to think.
Then he heard a more familiar voice... "Oh mighty Sith!" A few intermittent chuckles followed. "I'm here for my property! I want what was stolen from me by your friend after I'd rightfully stolen it first myself!"
Trychon braved another quick check around the corner, and sure enough... to the left of the group and the gun was the grey haired JERK that must have sold them out.
He took a little bit less debris this time, but the sting added to the anger he already felt at being two-timed. He ran to the speeder bike... and pushed it around manually so it faced out of the alley. He gave it a cursory inspection as he did so and noted that it was as good as done for... trash.
That would be plenty for him... all he needed right now really... rocket propelled trash would work fine. He hopped into the driver seat and ignited the engines. He smiled as they came on. Only lucky break all day... He hit the throttle and sent himself flying out into the street. It took all his weight and strength to coerce it into the turn he needed... but it worked. He was headed right for that blasted gun.
Red flashes met the front of his 'vehicle' and burst into flames as he shot toward the men. He could see their eyes grow as he shot towards them and they took a hesitant step back. With the last 20 meters to go, he flipped off the back of the bike and watched the bike explode into the stationary weapon.
Suddenly, a river of fire opened up from a turret in the middle of the group, right as Raezyr made a sharp turn into one of the many allys... and then brought the bike to a halt with a slight bit of help from the building.
Despite wincing in pain I can't imagine how Raezyr feels Trychon managed to get out of the sidecar and help his driver off of the bike as well.
He peaked his head out around the corner ever to get a look and see if they were advancing on them. He got a quick look before a row of large red bolts struck the corner of the wall as he retreated. He was stung in the face by a few glowing chunks of wall.
"FUCK. I don't think I'll be blocking that blaster..."
He'd gotten a decent enough look though and had seen that there was roughly five or six men there. The good news seemed to be that they were willing to stay behind the safety of their mounted weapon. Not exactly the high point he was hoping for... but certainly better than nothing. He could hear them chuckling and heckling him from around the corner, but he knew he had at least a moment to think.
Then he heard a more familiar voice... "Oh mighty Sith!" A few intermittent chuckles followed. "I'm here for my property! I want what was stolen from me by your friend after I'd rightfully stolen it first myself!"
Trychon braved another quick check around the corner, and sure enough... to the left of the group and the gun was the grey haired JERK that must have sold them out.
He took a little bit less debris this time, but the sting added to the anger he already felt at being two-timed. He ran to the speeder bike... and pushed it around manually so it faced out of the alley. He gave it a cursory inspection as he did so and noted that it was as good as done for... trash.
That would be plenty for him... all he needed right now really... rocket propelled trash would work fine. He hopped into the driver seat and ignited the engines. He smiled as they came on. Only lucky break all day... He hit the throttle and sent himself flying out into the street. It took all his weight and strength to coerce it into the turn he needed... but it worked. He was headed right for that blasted gun.
Red flashes met the front of his 'vehicle' and burst into flames as he shot toward the men. He could see their eyes grow as he shot towards them and they took a hesitant step back. With the last 20 meters to go, he flipped off the back of the bike and watched the bike explode into the stationary weapon.
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