Private Tomb Raiders

[Shakolt Tulgud]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Find the Armoury
Tags: Gol Dorren
Equipment: See Bio

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"Sometimes the past is better left Buried"​

It was dark, damp and grim, but Shakolt didn't care, the draw of the dark side was clawing at his mind, the hunger for its knowledge consuming him. He was crouched low with a lantern in hand, deep within the Tomb of Vodal Kressh. He had been on the hunt for this tomb ever since he had discovered a shattered stone spear which radiated the power of Sith Alchemy. The Arkanian learned of its origin from the owner of the artefact, a Tweilek archeologist who was selling the information of its origin to others. The Tweilek of course was killed once he had been told everything, Shakolt despised being interrupted when tomb raiding. After discovering the ancient tomb inscriptions at its entrance mention an armoury within the Tomb, stocked with Sith weapons by Vodal Kressh's loyal followers before the perished at the hands of the Galactic Republic. Shakolt was determined to find this armoury.

Shakolt's fixation on the armory had been so strong he had begun neglecting his own body. His ration pack was still half-full after 3 days underground and he had calculated he had been travelling for 34 hours without sleep. The hunger in his mind sustained him and forced him forward. Shakolt continued through narrow corridors of the tomb, the floor littered with the remains of Kressh's followers, his mind ignoring the fact he was walking across human remains. As he continued wandering through the tomb Shakolt paused. He felt a slight ripple in the force. Was he alone down here? The Cultist couldn't tell if his senses were holding true or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He had heard of rumours that cultists were living amongst the ruins, still protecting their master to this day. The Arkanian drew out his electrobaton and continued along. It never hurt to be prepared.

The cultist drew out his map, it was an old piece of paper he had taken off the tweilek archeologist. "Where is this blasted armoury." Shakolt said to himself, his voice echoing in the hallway. Shakolt felt himself beginning to grow impatient. The hunger continued to eat away at his mind and he knew his body would not let him leave the tomb until he found it.

 

[Gol Dorren]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Locate and retrieve Sith artifacts
Tags: Shakolt Tulgud
Equipment: See bio

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Gol felt dry bones crack underfoot as he trudged on through the long, oppressive darkness. The air was still and musty, and there was no sound save for those made by his passing. There were rumours of a cult that still protected this tomb, but in two days of exploration he had seen no signs of life. As far as he knew, he was the first sentient being to set foot there in millennia. The thought excited him.

Casting a glow-rod over the floor, he could see scattered bones littering the chamber ahead. They were most likely the remains of Kressh's servants, slain while defending this place long ago. There had been no grandiose burial rites for them, it seemed; left to rot away in the blackness, unmourned and forgotten. As he stepped over the remains, he wondered if they'd regret serving Kressh, knowing that would be their eventual fate.

Still, their loss might yet be his gain. Inscriptions at the entrance to the tomb made mention of an armory somewhere within. The ancient Sith were legendary for their use of alchemy, able to forge seemingly primitive weapons that were the equal of any lightsaber. The chance at finding even one such weapon was well worth the effort.

Gol felt a stab of hunger in his belly. He hadn't eaten in at least ten hours. Giving in to the demands of his body, he rummaged through his satchel with his free hand, feeling around for rations packs. He'd allowed enough for a week, though portions would be small.

Stooping a little to illuminate the chamber floor again, he found a clear spot and set himself down on the stone floor. The slabs were cold, and smooth as the day they'd been laid. Taking out a half-eaten ration pack, he quickly scoffed the last of it. The protein-carbohydrate blend was far from fine dining, but it satisfied the rumbling in his stomach. He took an opportunity to rest there, attempting to meditate for a moment.

Closing his eyes, he began to focus on channeling his feelings. The desire for success on this hunt was first and foremost. He rode that passion like a wave, submerging his consciousness within the Force. He reached out with his mind, searching for the familiar presence of the Dark Side. He found it soon enough, but it wasn’t quite what he'd hoped for.

The presence he felt was not the lingering imprint of long-dead Sith or their sorceries, but a living mind. Their presence was faint and shrouded in darkness, but unmistakable. They were close by. A rush of adrenalin surged through his body as his red eyes snapped wide open. He did not know whether this presence was some sort of guardian or a fellow tomb raider. Either way, danger could be imminent.

Reaching into his satchel, he withdrew the components of his quarterstaff. One by one, he locked the lengths of metal into position, quickly assembling the weapon. Testing the fit was secure, he kicked his satchel to the corner of the room. It would only be a hindrance if he had to fight.

He was keenly aware of the other presence now. He could feel it drawing closer. He followed the sensation towards a passageway branching off from the chamber. He placed himself next to the entrance, flat against the wall. They were close enough now to hear their footsteps, whoever they were. His pulse quickened and muscles tensed, ready to strike.

The instant the stranger stepped through the archway, Gol sprang into action. He swung his quarterstaff hard in a downward arc, aiming to strike the back of their knees and knock them into a vulnerable position before they had a chance to react.

 

[Shakolt Tulgud]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Find the Armoury
Tags: Gol Dorren
Equipment: See Bio

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"Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely"​

Shakolt had continued walking through the hallways of the tomb. For once he could feel himself getting hungry. As he walked through the archway it felt as if time slowed to a near halt. The faint ripple he had felt before was a loud crashing wave and it was right on top of him. A rush of adrenaline shot through his body and in an instant he activated his electrobaton, blue electric crackling and illuminating the room. He raised his baton above his head similar to a defensive posture of Form 2. But he had sensed the soul too late and before he could stabilise himself he felt a quarterstaff connect with his electrobaton and while that had taken the brunt of the force Shakolt was knocked to the ground with his electrobaton in hand.

Shakolt looked up to the Duros standing before him. Was this one of the members of the cult he was warned about? It didn't matter, either way this man was a threat and Shakolt wouldn't be interrupted in his hunt. Shakolt gripped his electrobaton hard and pointed it towards Gol and spoke "What's in this tomb is mine to claim! It's teachings call to me!" he said out loud, distress and anger clearly heard in his voice. With every pull of the trigger he felt the darkness inside him guiding him. The necessity to fight, to feel rage and anger. The temple reeked of it.

Shakolt could now clearly sense the individual in front of him. There was darkness, stronger than Shakolts own. Perhaps a Sith? But the Duros did not weild a lightsaber, a weapon common amongst force users. Whichever it didn't matter. Shakolt could contemplate on who he was after he had dealt with him. He stood up and leapt towards him aiming to strike at his head.

 

[Gol Dorren]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Locate and retrieve Sith artifacts
Tags: Shakolt Tulgud
Equipment: See bio

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Electricity crackled as an ignited electrobaton blocked the swing of Gol’s quarterstaff. The smell of ozone filled the air as blue flashes of light played across the chamber; casting warped shadows in flickering, jerky motions. The deflection spared his target any injury, but he was unprepared and still found himself knocked off-balance. The jolt from the electrobaton gave Gol pause, taking a moment to evaluate his foe as he got his footing back.

The man wielding the crackling weapon was humanoid and clad all in black, with a fully-enclosed helmet disguising any hint of his exact species. The Dark Side was palpable around him, though faintly. Gol didn't have a chance to ask what he was doing there before he announced his claim to the tomb's contents. So he was a fellow artifact hunter, and by the feel of him, a fellow student of the Dark Side.

Their common ground was of little concern in that moment, however. Gol's new rival leapt towards him, raising his weapon and aiming a vicious strike towards his head. Time seemed to slow as he raised his own with both hands, blocking the downward swing with a horizontal block. The force of the blow was surprising, forcing Gol back on his heels. He screwed one eye shut, turning his face away as energy arced around the haft of his weapon and his foe's momentum forced it closer to him. Sparks sprayed from the point of contact, biting at his skin like swarming insects. With a grunt of exertion, he twisted, stepping around his foe and separating their weapons. Springing back, he assumed a ready stance, recalling his Matukai training.

"We both know the power of the Dark Side," Gol snarled through gritted teeth, the left side of his face still stinging from the sparks. "But only one of us shall be victorious." Twirling the quarterstaff, he began to close the gap between them, circling to the right as he went. "I feel your anger. Your indignation. It gives you strength," He went on, the staff whirling with unnatural speed as he moved closer. He could feel the strength of the Dark Side powering his motions, fuelling his body. It was intoxicating, eliciting a smirk that twisted his dour expression. "But it will not be enough."

Without warning, Gol jerked forward, swinging the staff in towards his opponent's helm to stun him, ready to rebound and follow up with a blow to the ribs from the opposite end of his weapon.

 

[Shakolt Tulgud]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Find the Armoury
Tags: Gol Dorren
Equipment: See Bio

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"Weakness leads to slavery. Weakness leads to misery."​

Shakolt listened to the mans taunts. He did indeed feel the rage in him and was giving himself over to the Dark side in order to win this battle. But when Gol's staff came towards the cultist was caught out unexpected. As soon as the impact came he felt blood trickling down his face and leaked out of the helmet on the floor. When the next strike came for his ribs Shakolt was just able to block it with his own baton before taking a step back. He removed his helmet and clipped it to his belt, revealing a bloodied but young Arkanian face with white eyes and short white hair. The facial expression of the man was of anger but there was something about it. An occasional twitch, the sign of the hunger for knowledge getting to him, he was too weak to ignore the pain.

Shakolt was well aware a prolonged fight would not benefit him, in the case he won, which chances weren't exactly great, he would no doubt be too weak to continue. He could try run but he'd eventually be tracked down, this Duros was stronger in the darkside than him. No this fight needed to end soon and so the Arkanian pulled out his holdout blaster pistol into his left hand and aimed it at the Duros. "You fight well and from that little scuffle perhaps better than me. But I know not to comply with foolish notions of honour in combat." The Arkanian said and smirked. "Too bad your darkside potential will not go any further." he continued before squeezing the trigger, hoping to hit the Duros. Shakolt's aim was not the best so he relied solely on the fact they fought in close quarters, something anyone with experience in blasters knows not to solely rely on.

 

[Gol Dorren]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Locate and retrieve Sith artifacts
Tags: @Shakolt Tulgud
Equipment: See bio

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The first blow hit home, thumping against Shakolt’s helmet with a metallic clash. As the staff vibrated from the impact, rebounding off the metal, Gol's muscles tensed and strained to counter its stalled momentum. Changing directions, the staff whipped back around, only to be blocked by a hasty deflection from his foe’s electrobaton. Once again lightning crackled and threw warped shadows across the chamber and its bone-littered floor. The helmeted warrior stepped back, droplets of crimson blood dripping from under the helmet onto the floor. He maintained surprising composure, taking the time to hang the helmet on his belt as he revealed his bloodied face. He was an Arkanian, if the pale hair and eyes were any indicator. His face was a mask of anger and pain, the Dark Side radiating from him as he was driven deeper into it by those emotions. Gol smirked, dropping back into a ready stance. He could see his foe weakening. The advantage was his, and victory would only be a matter of persistence.

Suddenly, Shakolt whipped a blaster pistol out in his left hand. Gol froze for a moment in surprise, but fortunately his enemy took that opportunity to quip and declare his impending death rather than simply shooting him. Thinking fast, Gol dropped his staff to the stone floor. His left hand rose into the path of the shot, palm open to receive the energy of the shot. The Force became a void in his grasp, catching and dissipating the blaster bolt through the techniques of Tutaminis. He felt the heat of the bolt’s power, as it surged down his arm, through his chest and into his opposite hand. Twisting his body, he thrust his right palm forward, fingers splayed wide as he turned the power of Shakolt’s attack back onto him. Telekinetic force rippled outward in a wave, hurtling right into his opponent’s chest.

 

[Shakolt Tulgud]

Location: Tomb of Vodal Kressh, Athiss
Objective: Find the Armoury
Tags: Gol Dorren
Equipment: See Bio

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"Weakness leads to slavery. Weakness leads to misery."​

Shakolt's facial expression turned from one of triumph to fear as not only did the blaster bolt get blocked but it came right back at him, striking him in the left shoulder, knocking the blaster clear of his hand. Shakolt let out a shout of pain as he felt the impact, knocking him to the floor once more although this time he wasn't getting back up as quickly as before. He turned to look at the wound, he would need some first aid which was in his bag but he couldn't do that if his opponent killed him.

He turned to Gol and held his right arm up. "Wait... I concede. You win." he said while crawling back into a corner. Escape wasn't an option here. The Duros proved more capable than Shakolt in this scenario and with the injury his chances at winning in a fight was slim. Shakolt would have to talk his way out, not something he was all too experienced with. "We need not fight... We can work together you and I. At least for now." he grimaced as he attempted to sit up against the wall. "I have my uses. I have studied this temple, I have map, I have a, a..." he thought for a second. "I don't need what is in the armoury, I merely wish to study it." Lies. Shakolt does not need whatever's in there but he would desperately like to keep any weapons he finds.