First Reply Cordially Invited | The Sundering Dawn

[The Fateful Storyteller]

D A T H O M I R

A world mired in shadows and mystery, teeming with magic and the unknown, and home to the ever-famous Dathomiri Witches. Yet the galaxy managed to find itself in an even stranger mystery with the shifting of stars and planets, placing Dathomir in even stranger circumstances. The shifting of the planet had awoken something deep within one of its many temples, a trembling felt in the Force, like a serene lake disturbed by the drop of a pebble amidst its surface. ​

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With the planet shifted, a fissure had formed upon its lands, tearing open a scar that revealed a temple buried beneath its ancient soil. Within the ancient Dathomiri temple, rested ancient halls, entrenched in thick vines that shattered its walls would lie a gateway where no gateway should exist. A mixture of cries for help, torn between sweet and innocent promises as well as threats of unspeakable violence and horror echoing from its threshold. ​

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Who would answer such cries, and what might they find within the desecrated halls of the Dathomiri temple?​

[ Open ]
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Spoiler

OOC:// A lot of psychological work will be done throughout this thread, so if you plan to expose yourself to this, please be receptive/open to what may happen. No permanent psychological damage will be done to your character, unless you want it. This thread may feature some GM'd aspects and may require you to roll a dice as well, so be mindful of what you do.

 

[Rhyse Calder]

A first.

Relegated solely to the Sith capital of Jutrand was a dull affair, even for Rhyse; someone that would sooner remain stuck in the shadow of someone else, treading carefully with a lowered gaze and no attention set upon him. Although, Velok's so-called fortune instilled some level of grit and inspiration in Rhyse. He chafed against the chains of it, either way - desperate to go, equally as desperate to stay.

The droid piloting the ship set it down on the surface of Dathomir, only a short walk from the temple he was sent to investigate. He wondered if it was deemed too dangerous, the worthless life of an acolyte proving a suitable sacrifice to learn something about what was inside. If he lived to tell it.

Tugging on the blade Fellsong, he tread forwards into the temple.

The Fateful Storyteller

 

[Zanami]

Cordially Invited

"The Key to Joy is Disobedience"
- Aleister Crowley -

Location: Dathomir
Gear: In Sig

They're Coming to Take Me Away​

Whispers of a disturbance had reached the ears of Darth Malum of House Marr , who summoned one of the Tsis-kaar known as Zanami. The young abomination listened to the commands given by her superior; and promptly nodding she would investigate these reports at once. Aboard one of the Sith shuttles, Zanami plotted her way to the planet of Dathomir, wondering what had caused the Lord to be so quick to react to happenings on a planet not held by the Sith Order. But it was not in her design to question her orders.

Upon her arrival to the planet, she circled over the temple that was the root of her being dispatched before settling down a few meters away. The Temple was foreboding, a similarity to ancient structures that were found all sprawled out throughout the galaxy; and yet, it seemed different, odd even. The voices remained quiet in her fractured mind, possibly in awe of the edifice as well, which she was grateful for. The voices became bolder and bolder with every passing day; the war for sole control of Zanami's mind constantly raging. She leapt from the shuttle the moment the mechanical durasteel doors parted, her eyes transfixed on the looming structure.

There was something inside, waiting and calculating. She could sense it, almost taste it. Her strength in the Force and the Dark Side was also growing daily, though she still had much to learn and grow from the trickling knowledge bestowed to her from her mentors. She didn't believe in fear, an emotion surgically removed by Mother and Father when they sought to rearrange her mentally, physically, and emotionally, she had come to accept. But Zanami was also not foolish to believe she was unbreakable; and thus, she slowly crept up the stairs leading up to the Temple's entrance, aware she was being observed.

Switching to her infrared sight to combat the darkness as she entered the Temple; she casually took stock in her surroundings. There was something here. And it was waiting.

The Fateful Storyteller / Rhyse Calder

 

[Fellsong]

The blade slumbered, dulled by its inadequate host's ability to offer a steady supply of flesh and blood. His master however deemed them fit to wield the hungering blade - so long as the master offered his essence, Fellsong would abide the acolyte's presence and offer him his boons. It was only once the two had arrived on Dathomir did Fellsong seem to awaken, disturbed by the presence it felt. His voice telepathically echoed into Rhyse's mind, a harsh voice.

"Something ancient is here boy... Be mindful of where you step..."

Fellsong glowed with a subtle, pulsating red along its length, the blade seeming to have a more visceral reaction. Whatever had awoken here was older than he, and that concerned the Sith that resided in the sword. Such great time was a prison that was reserved for seldom few, and was often made by even more ancient magic.

Rhyse Calder ​

 

[Rhyse Calder]

Those words did not ease his mind, writ plainly in the small frown that Rhyse wore so well. Something of a question as to whether it came with those words, or merely sat there forever.

"I see," he said, though that word from Velok rang through: audacity. Rhyse steeled himself, a breath and a beat, and said those words once more with finality. "I see."

He crossed the threshold, Fellsong in-hand, with a newfound sense of determination. A mask, maybe, but one Rhyse was eager to wear forevermore.

Fellsong

 

[Zanami]

Cordially Invited

"The Key to Joy is Disobedience"
- Aleister Crowley -

Location: Dathomir
Gear: In Sig

They're Coming to Take Me Away​

Dragging her left hand across the passing wall to her left, she stared into the darkness as she calculated her steps. The old ancient Temple was cold, as wisps of her breath danced out in front of her mouth when she exiled. Zanami found this odd, considering the temperament of Dathomir's surface. None-the-less, she ventured forward always aware of her surroundings. She came to that proverbial fork in the road, and again that sensation of oddness washed over her. Which way to go?

With a shrug of her shoulders, the teenage Sithspawn chose left. At least there was some semblance of illumination toward the backend of the left tunnel, where the right tunnel was drunk with absolute darkness. As she began walking down the narrow tunnel, she couldn't recall why she chose this route over the other. Had that decision been made for her? And to the lack of her knowledge as to why, she noticed her hilt was held fast in her right hand. Odd indeed.

Arriving at the tunnel's end, another fork in the road; and littered on the floor was the skeletal remains of small creatures. She chuffed slightly and chose right this time, or did she? She was beginning to question the sanity of this Temple, and question why the voices in her head had remained silent so far. There was something definitely spooky going on with in the is Temple; and she aimed to unravel the mystery.

 

[The Fateful Storyteller]

D A T H O M I R

The architecture of the temple was old, far older than one who might be familiar with Dathomir's temples would be accustomed to, suggesting that it had been around for who knows how long, buried beneath the earth. The temple beckons, a distant thunking sound heard at a steady, rhythmic pace, enticing its guests deeper into its desecrated halls, subconsciously guiding them toward its source. ​

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As they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere seemed heavier and thick enough to choke on the deeper in the guests ventured; breathable, but filled with a sweet yet repulsive aroma in the air. The air was cold - frigid enough to see one's own breath. The distant thunking sound seemed to grow louder with each passing step, though the rhythm and frequency between each sound seemed to grow as well.​

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No matter which way they went, the corridors of the temple seemed to go on forever, and if they tried to go back the way they came, a new set of corridors appeared, as if the temple itself was shifting. Nothing of the temple's layout seemed to make any sense, yet it still continued on for what might seem like an eternity. That is until both its guests arrived in the same chamber, a large circular room enveloped in darkness.​

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A pulsing glow would illuminate a singular doorway between the two, ushering the temple's guests to it.​

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[ Rhyse Calder | Zanami ]

Feel free to roll a d20, or just freely allow whatever happens.​

 

[Rhyse Calder]

He breathed a sigh, one that came at great length.

These halls were old, ancient, with all the dust to prove it. He placed a palm on a wall, calloused calloused flesh swept aside an old marking, his eyes squinting, as if that added focus would allow him to read old and familiar glyphs. To no avail, of course.

Rhyse took a step, the sound of his boot going through an old, now shattered rib cage seemed to startle him, somewhat.

"This place sucks," he lamented quietly.

He turned the final corner at last, entering the chamber with the pulsing doorway. Though upon seeing another present, one that more greatly resembled a monster, Rhyse swiftly rose Fellsong as if to defend himself with it.

"Who are you?" He exclaimed with his best scowl, "What are you doing here?"

The Fateful Storyteller Zanami