Darth Veles
Sweet Avreet
“Have you ever been here before?”
With these words forming a rhetorical question, Darth Veles marched down his stealth vessel’s ramp, sending muffled, metallic claps across their near vicinity until the howling winds racing across Korriban’s red sea swallowed any and all signs giving away their arrival. Having a unique relationship with the land that had turned him into a true Sith, the amphibious man both loathed and loved the endless dunes. Feasting upon the beautiful sights with his large, amber orbs shining similarly to Horuset, Veles filled his lings with hot, afternoon air and allowed the darkness festering upon Korriban’s entirety bathe his body in pure, raw power. Nostalgia had sneakily overwhelmed his thoughts and for a second, the Mon Calamari felt like an apprentice again. Realizing most thoughts racing through his head were ancient memories belonging to a young student of the dark arts, Veles clenched his fists and cast the ancient images away like useless rubbish polluting the clearly goal giving him purpose and direction.
Behind him stood a tattooed Twi’lek, [member="Nabrina Vao"], skin colour an excellent match to that of the sand; the amphibious Sith did not need to see the young woman to feel her presence. Not exactly an apprentice – her position strongly resembled an inexperienced trainee at the very start of her journey, like a baby taking its first steps. Nabrina’s desire to grow into a Sith would not be denied, for she wielded the Force, though Veles had no intention to simply grant the woman her wish either. There lied this journey’s primary purpose, to test her; have the woman prove her worth or succumb to Korriban’s cruelty, be driven only by the fiery passion of her own heart. Earning the right to become Sith used to be a prestigious thing, going hand in hand with ancient traditions surrounding the mysterious order.
Posing as their guide and inseparable companion on the journey, the Dark Side let out a whisper and urged both to come forth. Veles remained standing, a firmly placed statue weathered by the unforgiving sand and heat, chiselled into a survivor unrelenting in his efforts to withstand the hot, dry air. He had conquered Korriban once as a mere child, he could do so again if he wished. But no – this was Nabrina’s task. Survive and grow, adapt and learn, kill and advance. For until she successfully completed her task, the woman meant nothing, another candle to be snuffed out and forgotten.
“You have seven days to hunt down a dozen tuk’ata and collect their hearts. Once done, you will find the tomb of Marka Ragnos and present the hearts on an altar in its main chamber, then meditate on the Dark Side.” His smooth, thickly accented voice clearly displayed the usual uncompromising demeanour. For a man trespassing on a planet supposedly dominated by the Silver Jedi, he seemed awfully calm, his expression outright serene.
“You won’t need your weapons. Not for this. The Force provides all you need.” A smile graced his lips, head finally turned back to let both eyes spy on the red Twi’lek’s form.
"May the Force serve you well, acolyte."
With these words forming a rhetorical question, Darth Veles marched down his stealth vessel’s ramp, sending muffled, metallic claps across their near vicinity until the howling winds racing across Korriban’s red sea swallowed any and all signs giving away their arrival. Having a unique relationship with the land that had turned him into a true Sith, the amphibious man both loathed and loved the endless dunes. Feasting upon the beautiful sights with his large, amber orbs shining similarly to Horuset, Veles filled his lings with hot, afternoon air and allowed the darkness festering upon Korriban’s entirety bathe his body in pure, raw power. Nostalgia had sneakily overwhelmed his thoughts and for a second, the Mon Calamari felt like an apprentice again. Realizing most thoughts racing through his head were ancient memories belonging to a young student of the dark arts, Veles clenched his fists and cast the ancient images away like useless rubbish polluting the clearly goal giving him purpose and direction.
Behind him stood a tattooed Twi’lek, [member="Nabrina Vao"], skin colour an excellent match to that of the sand; the amphibious Sith did not need to see the young woman to feel her presence. Not exactly an apprentice – her position strongly resembled an inexperienced trainee at the very start of her journey, like a baby taking its first steps. Nabrina’s desire to grow into a Sith would not be denied, for she wielded the Force, though Veles had no intention to simply grant the woman her wish either. There lied this journey’s primary purpose, to test her; have the woman prove her worth or succumb to Korriban’s cruelty, be driven only by the fiery passion of her own heart. Earning the right to become Sith used to be a prestigious thing, going hand in hand with ancient traditions surrounding the mysterious order.
Posing as their guide and inseparable companion on the journey, the Dark Side let out a whisper and urged both to come forth. Veles remained standing, a firmly placed statue weathered by the unforgiving sand and heat, chiselled into a survivor unrelenting in his efforts to withstand the hot, dry air. He had conquered Korriban once as a mere child, he could do so again if he wished. But no – this was Nabrina’s task. Survive and grow, adapt and learn, kill and advance. For until she successfully completed her task, the woman meant nothing, another candle to be snuffed out and forgotten.
“You have seven days to hunt down a dozen tuk’ata and collect their hearts. Once done, you will find the tomb of Marka Ragnos and present the hearts on an altar in its main chamber, then meditate on the Dark Side.” His smooth, thickly accented voice clearly displayed the usual uncompromising demeanour. For a man trespassing on a planet supposedly dominated by the Silver Jedi, he seemed awfully calm, his expression outright serene.
“You won’t need your weapons. Not for this. The Force provides all you need.” A smile graced his lips, head finally turned back to let both eyes spy on the red Twi’lek’s form.
"May the Force serve you well, acolyte."
