Private Toil and Trouble

[Darth Vyle]

Location: Dromund Kaas, Dromund system, Esstran sector

The Tomb of Ergast was overgrown and abandoned. Millennia ago, under the Sith Emperor of old, its grounds were maintained as the secrets it contained were studied endlessly by those seeking to cheat death and increase their power. Then the Empire fell, and Dromund Kaas' relevance to future Sith Orders faded in favor of planets like Korriban, Ziost, and eventually Exegol. Most modern Sith denied the potency of revisiting the tombs buried in the planet's jungle. Darth Vyle was no such Sith.

She used her sickle-shaped lightsaber to cut away the vines blocking the entrance to the tomb. The archway leading inside had collapsed, large stones and bricks clogging the passageway that would lead her deeper within. These would need to be cleared if she wanted to secrets of Ergast's ancient power.

Belfry of Tund occupied the space behind her, towering over her like a broken obelisk in its heyday. Like her, he had ties to Dathomir, and was of a studious mind and reputation. If anyone would help her unravel the secrets Ergast had hidden, it would be him.

"I take it you've heard of Lord Ergast?" she asked, attempting to fill the silence with relevant small talk. "There are some who would say we are on a fool's errand — that if Ergast's holocron did exist, it is long gone. What do you think?"

She turned her attention to the rubble blocking their way. With a flick of her wrist, magick appeared in the palm of her hand, a red ichor that swirled like mist. As her spell fell over the rubble, the rocks and bricks began to move themselves, separating into two large piles on either side of the entrance. Yet, there was still plenty more should he chose to help her.

Belfry of Tund​

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[Belfry of Tund]

He had been surprised to be sought out by Darth Vyle .

Someone with Dathomiri blood. A witch in her own right. Was this how his mother had been in her prime? It was tough to say. But he gladly accepted her request for assistance. Anything to get to know more about their shared culture. It wasn't quite family, but even something as simple as a connection through heritage could mean so much.

"The pursuit of knowledge is never a fool's errand." Bells murmured as he studied the rubble and then their surroundings. Strong force works would most likely draw the local Sithspawn their way.

They could deal with it, but it would be more obstacles they didn't need.

While the Ashlan Crusade had collapsed Belfry suspected there was still crusader presence. Those of Zeal like theirs didn't just fade into obscurity. They'd do their best to cause trouble for some time to come. "I have no distinct interest in Ergast's teachings however. You can have whatever we find here as long as you remember our pact, Vyle. I want to know more about our people." The red ichor surprised him however. In all the tellings the Dathomiri witches spellcrafted with purple ichor.

He wondered if that had some meaning.

Rather than use the Force Belfry detached his lightsaber and ignited it. Red ichor combined with red suspended plasma would cut a path through the rubble and reveal the maw of an overgrown ruin.

"Promising. The vegetation growth suggests the Crusade didn't come this way while they were burning the surface for all Darkside traces."

An inhumane cry sounded in the distance. Difficult to gauge if it was inside the tomb or deeper in the forest with the way it echoed. Belfry didn't particularly like that, but they didn't come here just to walk away because of some danger. "Be prepared for Sithspawn guarding these places even now, it would be disappointing to come here for the secrets of eternal life, just to end up chow for the Spawn."

 

[Darth Vyle]

Few things pleased Darth Vyle more than finding a kindred soul in the pursuit of knowledge, even if Belfry wasn't interested in this particular brand. She had no qualms about giving up information about their people in exchange. It was a small price, really, for a prize so grand.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take extra precaution," she noted, and conjured more ichor to draw a rune on her palm. She then gestured for him to hold out his own hand. If he accepted her offer, she would draw the same rune on his. Regardless of what he chose, she would explain, "This is a Spell of Discovery. The rune will warm if anything sentient approaches within ten meters of us. You should have one too, incase we get separated."

She returned her focus to the remaining rubble, casting another spell to remove the rest. Once the way was at last clear, she turned her attention to a row of iron sconces that lined each side of the tomb's mouth. With a casual flick of her wrist, she cast a Spell of Cinder, igniting the sconces to light their way; then, she led the two of them beyond the lip of the tomb.

Ergast's final resting place reeked of death and decay. Each breath was clogged with dust, and Darth Vyle only had to cough twice before her patience exhausted itself, and she waved her hand again, pushing the dust away from them with a thought. "If I'm to keep our deal," she continued after checking their surroundings and pushing on ahead. "I suppose you should tell me exactly what you want to know. Our people are vast and diverse. It's difficult to know where to start."

Belfry of Tund​

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[Belfry of Tund]

Darth Vyle

He watched curiously as Vyle utilized some of her ichor to put a brand on his extended hand.

Yes, Bel didn't hesitate to accept her offer, it was quite literally a living example of his people's magic. It would have been silly not to accept. Sure, maybe Vyle would have attempted to curse him. Succeeding most likely too. But that would have left her to deal alone with whatever defenses still remained inside.

Not exactly pragmatic.

"That's fascinating." Bel murmured as he brought the hand closer to his eye. It still pulsed quietly under his skin. "The Sorcerors of Tund practice magic as well, but... well, they prefer utilizing entrails and other macabre displays of piety to draw their power."

En route Bel had informed Vyle about his specific situation. Well, a summarized version of it. Father a Sorceror, mother a Witch. Youth on Dathomir, everything afterwards with the Sorcerors. Quite a sob tale and part of Bel had been embarrassed to tell her. A little bit anyway, but it was pragmatism for her to know.

Made things a bit easier.

"Mm," Nodding there while following both her physical trail as well as the logical one. "Suppose that makes sense, except-" Bel shrugged quietly as he snapped his fingers and a flame rose up between them.

"I don't really know what I don't know, you... know?" A soft chuckle at the sentence before pausing at the crossroads.

The stairs led deeper into the bowels of the ruins. But there were also two passageways that each led to the opposite direction. "Oh, that's not foreboding at all." Bel remarked dryly as he settled his hands on his hips and looked down towards those deepening steps. "Guess we should keep climbing down? The Sith of old have always been rather..." He remained thoughtful as he considered the Sith of Ancient Yore. "Self important? I bet he buried himself at the deepest point of the tomb."

That was suitably creepy, wasn't it?

Unless Vyle disagreed he'd lead the way down. The least thing Bel could do after suggesting the path in the first place.

"So, tell me, how did your family and you survive under Mandalorian, then Sith rule?" After all, their rule was exactly why his mother send him away in the first place.

 

[Darth Vyle]

It did not escape Vyle's notice that her question had gone unanswered and the subject quickly changed. Whatever his origins, Belfry was a Sith through-and-through. His paranoia rivaled her old Master, who liked to speak in riddles and answered questions with more questions, usually of a different subject.

No matter. There was time.

"My clan," she said, correcting his choice of wording. "Did what it always has in times of strife. We went underground. Dathomir always provides for its daughters, and outsiders have long overestimated their ability to dominate us." A short, curt chuckle escaped her lips. "A planet full of witches, and they think we can't find places to hide from them?"

Her answer was deliberately vague and evasive. If he wanted specifics, he would have to make the first move. Yet her words were not untrue. The legends of Mandalorian savagery were overrated by her summation. They were all metal heads who thought they could occupy a planet of spell-weavers by punching and burning things. As for the Sith Empire, she had less critiques.

She was a Sith, after all.

Now, it was her turn to change the subject. "I think you're right," she said, observing the path laid out before them. "We should go down further." She lit more sconces with another flourish of her wrist.

And yet, she had only taken a few further steps in the direction they had decided upon when the rune emblazoned on her palm began to warm. She kept walking, but stretched her senses out around her, steeling herself for a fight. "Look alive," she said, though Belfry would no doubt have felt his own rune heating up. "Something or someone is close."

Belfry of Tund​

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[Belfry of Tund]

Darth Vyle

He nodded quickly when she corrected his word choice.

"Clan, yes, apologies." In truth Bel wasn't really certain what the difference was. Clan, family, wasn't it just a different word to signify the same thing? Or perhaps the difference was in the blood relationship. Usually family was used to indicate actual blood. Perhaps Vyle's 'family' hadn't been strictly blood relationships and was more an extended group of connected sentients.

She didn't elaborate.

Bel realized he'd have to come forward with some of his own information if he wished to pry some more out of her. That was... reasonable. It brought him back to his academy days. "Before all that happened, my mother taught me some of the basics." Bel would volunteer after another moment of hesitation just as his hand burned up.

Glancing around the Sith didn't notice anything amiss.

"Looking alive is my specialty." Bel would quip dryly as he kept his focus on his surroundings. There was a soft whooshing sound on the air, but nothing seemed to be coming for them.

Yet.

"...as I said, my mother taught me the basics. But as a man, well, you know. The Witches aren't keen to give men much to do besides enslaving them." This was said without much judgement. He hadn't been a slave. Maybe because his mother shipped him off-world. "More often than not I was kept hidden away. I can spin some ichor, a little bit, but it's fragile."

As Belfry spoke he ignited his saber once again. The steady hum against his hand and filling his ears kept him steady. It was a comforting sound.

They turned a corner and Bel was almost sure something would be waiting for them. But no, again, emptiness.

"Something is stalking us." He murmured over his shoulder as the Sith kept his eyes on the walls now. Notice that? The walls, the patterns are shifting, like something is moving inside of them. That part relayed to Vyle's mind directly. Which was a disturbing thought. What manner of beast could use stonemasonry like waves or rivers to flow through in pursuit of its victims?

 

[Darth Vyle]

Darth Vyle had seen the rippling he indicated the precise moment he said it. She kept an eye carefully trained on the strange anomaly as she continued to walk and talk.

"In that fashion," she said of his remarks about the dichotomy of the sexes on their mutual homeworld, "the witches and the Sith are not so different. The strong rule, and the weak serve. That you picked up anything from your mother at all tells me you are not the ordinary brand of weak-willed men who typically serve the witch clans."

After all, if she thought he was weak, why bring him here?

She was not completely idle as she talked. Though a lightsaber hung at her side, she did not move to ignite it as Belfry had. Instead, she pulled two misty orbs of ichor into the palms of her hands. In that way, she was more witch than Sith. She would use her lightsaber if required, but it was the familiarity and ease with which she could draw upon the Source of her power that caused her to favor her magick.

Now, she spoke to him telepathically, as well, so that the creature would not guess her next move. Close your ears tightly, but stay ready to fight. Whatever this thing is will not like what I do next.

She closed her eyes. When she opened them again a heartbeat later, they were white, without any of the steely grey that had been there before. She unleashed a shriek reminiscent of the deadly Dathomirian ssurian. The amplified sound waves cracked the stone walls, causing fresh dust to fall from the ceiling around them. The wave struck whatever was hiding on the wall, causing it to scream out in pain and drop from its place into a cloud of debris.

It's safe now, she thought, and prepared to fight.

Belfry of Tund​

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[Belfry of Tund]

Darth Vyle

"Thank... you?"

It was a bit odd to thank someone for saying they were not, quote, a weak-willed manling serving the witches' whim. It was true however. The dynamic was rather similar to what the Sith did. Except that the Sith didn't discriminate based on sex. Men or women, they all had a chance to become a powerful Lord of the Sith and rule over the weaker.

But perhaps sentients like Vyle and him were a good midnote between the two philosophies. Partially witch, partially occult but melded with the designs of the Sith.

Something to consider.

He didn't respond to her telepathy outside of an almost imperceptible nod. But Bel breathed in and caught the Force, using it to plug his ears by way of little force bubbles covering his ears.

Unconventional solution, but Bel didn't think to pack ear plugs with him. Luckily it wasn't necessary to hear Vyle's action to see its result. The stonework warped and roiled under the texture. As if the sea collided with sound and was forced to shudder in agony. A pair of nightmarish creatures screeched out of the walls and dashed around the floor in pain.

It didn't last.

Just as Vyle said safe the creatures flared up into the air and rushed them.

"You call this safe?" Bel cried out as he ran forward towards the coiling mass of serpentine delight attacking them. At the last minute he'd slide beneath them and lash out with his sabre from below. It caught the tail of one of the creatures, sending it to the ground where Bel let the flame in his hand slip and scorch the flailing beast.

Its cries and charred smoke colored the hallway.

"Not that I was complaining, of course." Said with a panting smile as he watched Vyle finish off the second creature. "But I have never heard of stone beasts swimming through the walls. Seems... kinda new?" As if these tombs had become infested with new creations long after Ergast had passed away so many millennia ago.

He continued the path as he flicked his fingers to summon a flame once more.

The corridor ended into a room. There was a coffin in the middle of it. Ornate, richly and beautiful. Bel looked around. The walls were decorated with Sith history too.

"This... seems a bit easy, no? What, we kill two guardians, walk down a staircase and here's Ergast?" He rubbed his jaw there, absently scratching while trying to think this through. It made little sense to him. No traps, a pair of guardians and some mild physical exertion? Nonsense. "You asked me if I heard of Ergast before and if his Holocron would still be here."

Over his shoulder to the witch as he eyed the coffin with some distrust.

"I have read the old Sith Lord was wily and deceptive, like many Sith. As for his Holocron... many have seen it pass through their hands, but it somehow always managed to find its way back to this tomb. That's a bit odd, isn't it?"

 

[Darth Vyle]

Darth Vyle was... impressed.

When Belfry said that he could use some small magick, she had expected simple uses of ichor, maybe conjuring a potion or two. But to use the Spell of Cinder offensively... that took talent. She reevaluated her opinion of him then and there. He had potential, but how much? And how much of it was he aware of?

"It is as you said," she replied, taking in their new surroundings. "The Sith of old were self-important, and not without reason. Their tombs are death traps with layers of sorcery embedded into their stone the likes of which would take millennia to unravel." She regarded a mural, tracing it with her hands, probing with her mind for hidden traps cast on the room. "As for the holocron, the knowledge Ergast was said to possess could greatly extend one's life and power. No doubt, the receptacle of that power was fought and killed for. Someone must have thought bringing it back would cause it to fade in history the way this planet has. But, obviously, they were wrong."

The stone beasts did intrigue her, however. She too had not seen them swim across walls in that fashion and could not conceive what had been done to them to grant them such properties.

She walked closer to sarcophagus and inspected the Sith hieroglyphics on its smooth obsidian surface. Then, her eyes fell upon it. The holocron was no bigger than her palm and was fitted in to a socket near the head of the coffin. A simple review of the mechanism told her it would need to be twisted to release the device. That's when it dawned on her.

This was the trap. The one that counted, anyways.

Pulling it free would surely have a consequence. Summon Sithspawn, angry ghosts, induce a cave-in, or even all three—even something worse. Few of Ergast's writings survived to suggest what the ancient lord might have boobytrapped his own tomb with, so they were going to have to wing it. But not before she prepared. Inhaling, she drank deeply from the ichor at the center of her being and called the Shadow.

She would enchant this room as best she could before pulling the device from its socket. "Our deal," she said, mindful of Belfry's part in all of this. "If you wish for me to honor it, ask your questions now. It will take me a moment to prepare. Once the holocron is twisted and removed, I do not have the slightest idea what will happen — only that something will."

And with that, she began to mutter in the Dathomirian tongue.

Belfry of Tund​

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