Post by Darth Veles on Aug 27, 2018 19:11:14 GMT -5
Darth Veles found comfort in uncovering long forgotten places and collecting any remains of history or power that remained there. Always a scholar at heart, recovering pieces of the past brought him genuine joy. Better yet; knowledge equalled power. While the Mon Cal’s colleagues fought for bones, he relentlessly scoured even the most wretched worlds the galaxy had to offer. Ironically enough, his most recent place of interest did not lie in the back end of nowhere; indeed, his thirst for powerful items and trinkets of significance had taken him to Dromund Kaas. Not in any civilized part of the Sith capital through; places so well maintained had little to offer. No, it was the lost and the forgotten he craved. Deep within Dromund Kaas’ overgrown jungles and fetid marshes slumbered sunken remains of ancient tombs and temples. The Darth had discovered its location in one of his scrolls – and after contacting the order to get excavations underway and have the site scouted and secured, it was only a matter of time before his presence graced the cursed land as well and he could witness the lost glory with his own eyes – not like he trusted anyone else with Sith artifacts, anyway.
As the sleek shape of his shuttle neared, it became apparent the ruins housed more than skeletons and wild animals. Soft, almost gentle whispers of the dark side started gaining in aggression, turning into muffled screams of terror and fear. Some even dared to clash against his devious mind, but any such attempt shattered against the Sith lord’s sheer power of will. The amphibious Sith thought back and wallowed in nostalgia, remembering his excitement when he explored such anomalies as an acolyte. Even in youth he was fascinated by history and tradition. Now, consumed by lust for power that would not be denied, such calling grew irresistible, forcing him to restlessly hunt for artifacts like a man possessed.
A glaring hole in the middle of the jungle greeted his personal transport. Descending past the towering canopy of trees, they sunk into a whole different world. One bathed in high humidity and darkness, the place where nightmares come to life. Rays of light rarely dared to pierce the thick vegetation, adding to the location’s sombre tune. In a matter of moments, the characteristically shaped shuttle touched the ground, spitting its high ranked commander upon a miserable, wet clearing. Hobbling down the boarding ramp, armed with a cane and draped in traditional dark robes of his order, the amphibious Mon Calamari hardly presented a fearsome sight. He cared not.
Tents, equipment, manpower – everything appeared in order as he briefly glanced over the slowly growing encampment that would become their foothold for venturing deeper down the odious bogs.
Taking a deep breath, the Banite took in the foul stench of decay and time, immersing himself in the dark side's treacherous abyss. One taste of the Force said it all; this was one of those places where even those deaf to the Force sensed the cold shivers of pure darkness running down their spine, where fauna and flora alike have been twisted and forever changed. The pleasant revelation cast a tender smile upon his expression.
Crooked trees surrounding the base appeared to blossom, yet decay into monstrous shapes at the same time – the dark side had infected the blasphemous place through and through. In the hundreds, maybe thousands of years, it had infested everything, bending the very essence of life and turning all, from trees down to the very earth, into a physical manifestation of the dark side. A webbed hand gently touched one such twisted leaf, tearing it off for closer examination. What truly intrigued Veles was its unnatural colour; almost impossible to describe, glossy and infinitely dark, perverted to the core. Whatever had tainted this land with the dark side must have been powerful and ancient, pleasing the Sith Lord very much – exactly what he’d hoped to discover.
Crumpling the leaf between his webbed claws and disregarding it, the former assassin spun around, carried by his characteristic hobble as he abandoned the camp’s premises and fully embraced the dark, twisted nature of the oppressive jungle. Death and decay poisoned the air with their fetid stench, painting images of mass ritual sacrifices and infinite evils of the past in his imagination. Whether committed by Vitiate or any other Sith, their evil had seeped deep into the land, festering underground and feeding not only on life, but on the soul itself. Veles assumed it to be the case here – prolonged exposure often proved irreversible, as displayed by the unnaturally coloured and warped vegetation. One could only wonder how it affected sentient lifeforms. For a dark side attuned mind like his though, it felt almost soothing, welcoming, even if his physical senses cringed in disgust, victims to the jungle’s unnatural qualities.
The ground soon turned into slimy mush, rendering the walking cane obsolete and forcing the amphibious Sith lord to continue without any help. To ease the upcoming burden, anything to threaten his progress had to go, just like the stick. Discarding his heavy armourweave cloak and overly expensive boots as well, Veles pierced the mist’s heavy veil and entered the malodorous bogs, his webbed feet sinking into the soupy earth. Miring forward after the greasy gunk swallowed his calves produced vocal slurps and sloshes, effectively alerting the surrounding wildlife to the Sith lord's presence.
The Force warned Veles of their hungry eyes, hiding in darkness and waiting for their prey to make a slip. Aware of the danger, a hand slithered closer to his main tools of trade. The curved twin hilts on his belt trembled in anxiety, afraid to touch the swamp’s green surface, though so far the slippery depths had only embraced his legs up to the knees, coating them in layers of thick obsidian mud. Fortunately enough, the Darth’s amphibious features equalled increased speed and mobility in environments such as this, allowing for slightly easier travel. Still, he had no doubt anything to survive the dark side’s taste must have perfectly adapted to the land, making him especially vulnerable.
“Beware, Darth Veles!” whispered ethereal voices into his head as vaguely humanoid shapes wandered about, only to disappear upon approach.
Ghosts and shards of the past continued to haunt their last resting place, eager to possess a powerful body or add a new spirit to their ranks. Others didn’t even know they were dead, eternally stuck in torment. And in the midst of all, he waded through the bubbling swamp. Disgustingly gooey and viscous, the oily black mud smelling of rotten eggs and sulphur hungrily sucked on his legs, as if souls lost to the powerful dark side nexus desired to impede his progress and drown him in the watery grave. Bubbles full of methane burped on the surface, spreading the swamp’s foul odour and having it linger within the evil, heavy mist.
Even up close, the thin veil of night refused to yield, forcing Veles to rely on cybernetically enhanced eyesight and the Force. So far, apart from the treacherous depths and hearing tell-tale splashes of water, the Sith lord had spotted no physical danger. Only ruins. Miserable, crumbling ruins overpowered and swallowed by nature. Eerie silhouettes towered high above the trees, leaning to such degrees he thought they’d fall any moment. The long abandoned structures wallowed in desolation, no longer suitable for their original purpose, irreparably damaged and sentenced to slowly fall apart. History was a cruel mistress, erasing past glory and replacing it with pure evil. As excited as he was by the discovery, Veles ceased his steady pace and reached out with his mind’s eye, searching for the source of this darkness.
