Though Yarkar did not speak his buried turmoil into being, the faintest taste of uncertainty was impossible to miss at such close proximity. What slivers of it permeated through Sa'ato's thoughts did not ultimately concern him, and there would be little reflected in his own mental aura to suggest otherwise. Instead, the Neti merely led the way into the central hub of the temple, which, conveniently, doubled as the main archival chamber. "Even if our query isn't stored in the computers or the holobooks", the Neti explained while siphoning energy from his datapad to kickstart an aged terminal, "Maybe this will point us in the right direction".
With that said, the Neti silently began his search. His efforts last just under half an hour before a fierce premonition shook the academic to his core. He parted his lips to speak, but the deafening crash of rent stone and pulverized duracrete rendered speech moot. When the dust settled, three hulking abominations eyed the duo hungrily. Terentateks: bred in ages long-passed to hunt and devour Jedi. It was now clear to the professor how a single Dark Sider succeeded in eliminating an entire conclave. What was less clear, for the moment, was whether or not Sa'ato and Yarkar would fare much better.
The beastly products of Sith alchemy chittered and growled with malevolent intent, the titanic trio moving slowly to surround the two humanoids in the center of the room. Not waiting for one to feel emboldened enough to charge, the academic scowled, and activated both his orange blades with a crackle-hiss. "Defend yourself", was the only advice he offered Yarkar, before pushing off and leaping high into the air, endeavoring to land the first strike…
Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
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Professor Mors
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
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Sa'ato Mors
Sa'ato Mors
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Yarkar Edetar
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Yarkar nodded as the professor noted that no matter what this place may be useful to them. It eased his worries for a while as they were digging through various archives to find fruit. He was fairly lost, though, much less focused than his academic brother-in-arms. It was clear that Yarkar was less informed about how to dig through manuscripts, less knowledgeable on how to find what he was looking for after being spoon-fed information about the galaxy more than he had freedom to look it up. The only reason he had known about the Jedi at all was simply piecing together what he could gather from old stories and brief mentions in history books. Searching through archives was much more foreign to him, and much slower than his compatriot's research.
As the crashing and rubble came in, Yarkar was much more in his element, using the Force to fling aside a hunk of rock that almost flattened him (Telekinesis). Beings of long times past, what a beautiful thing to see. Yarkar didn't recognize them as much but foes, but he readied himself regardless against the ancients. His mind sank into a deep focus, all the dust around him starting to slow down as his mind processed every morsel of information to hit his eyes (Battlemind).
He readies himself, drawing his blade of bleeding crimson. His mind does not cloud, but instead he feels rage and the Force as one, the joys of combat filling his arms and lungs as every breath is a rebirth. He swings his blade for a second or so, getting the weight right in his hands as he leaps in between the beasts, howling with bloodlust as he enters a defensive stance.
He wondered what they would look like when the life left their eyes and he stood, defiant and victorious. But that was the future. He had to live in the now, for now.
As the crashing and rubble came in, Yarkar was much more in his element, using the Force to fling aside a hunk of rock that almost flattened him (Telekinesis). Beings of long times past, what a beautiful thing to see. Yarkar didn't recognize them as much but foes, but he readied himself regardless against the ancients. His mind sank into a deep focus, all the dust around him starting to slow down as his mind processed every morsel of information to hit his eyes (Battlemind).
He readies himself, drawing his blade of bleeding crimson. His mind does not cloud, but instead he feels rage and the Force as one, the joys of combat filling his arms and lungs as every breath is a rebirth. He swings his blade for a second or so, getting the weight right in his hands as he leaps in between the beasts, howling with bloodlust as he enters a defensive stance.
He wondered what they would look like when the life left their eyes and he stood, defiant and victorious. But that was the future. He had to live in the now, for now.
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Professor Mors
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Sa'ato had not yet caught up with his colleague's aptitude for telekinesis, much less his skill and experience with basic battle meditation. Such being the case, his overhead strike was quickly derailed as the rightmost of the beasts swatted him out of the air like a beach ball. Dulled talons crunched and contorted the Neti's left arm. Mercifully, it was his shoto arm, and, unlike other 'humanoids' he lacked joints for breaking. That did not make impact with the nearest wall any less uncomfortable, however. The professor barely had time to summon the Force to his legs and leap back to his feet as the abomination barreled forward.
Lifting his longer blade to middle guard, Sa'ato took a flexible, defensive stance as tusks and fangs drew near at a blinding speed. This time, he had only to rely on his senses. Sidestepping the monster, the Neti cleaved off the tip of its left tusk with one strike, the tip of his blade searing a small gash on the beast's lower jaw as he followed through with the motion. The shooting pain and slight loss of equilibrium caused the Terentatek to bray harshly and slam into the wall even less gracefully than the Neti had a moment before. Growling quietly under his breath, the academic made use of the momentary pause to 'right' his mangled limb and pave the way for more complex maneuvers.
The other two behemoths, meanwhile, had answered Yarkar's bold stance with a chorus of cries. Drawing on the Force with animal instinct, the Terentatek to the youth's left brushed a claw toward his upper body, while the creature on his right lashed its tail around to sweep at his legs…
Lifting his longer blade to middle guard, Sa'ato took a flexible, defensive stance as tusks and fangs drew near at a blinding speed. This time, he had only to rely on his senses. Sidestepping the monster, the Neti cleaved off the tip of its left tusk with one strike, the tip of his blade searing a small gash on the beast's lower jaw as he followed through with the motion. The shooting pain and slight loss of equilibrium caused the Terentatek to bray harshly and slam into the wall even less gracefully than the Neti had a moment before. Growling quietly under his breath, the academic made use of the momentary pause to 'right' his mangled limb and pave the way for more complex maneuvers.
The other two behemoths, meanwhile, had answered Yarkar's bold stance with a chorus of cries. Drawing on the Force with animal instinct, the Terentatek to the youth's left brushed a claw toward his upper body, while the creature on his right lashed its tail around to sweep at his legs…
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Sa'ato Mors
Sa'ato Mors
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Yarkar Edetar
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
It was not long before Yarkar was beset upon. Blood roared in his ears as he readied himself. He saw the claws coming at him at blinding speeds, bending backwards and balancing himself with his hands before noticing too late the incoming tail. He kicked up into a handstand, but even with Force enhanced speed and musculature, he was not fast enough. As the Force flowed through him, pumping from his legs as he bounded then through his chest and down his arms, it touched his fingertips right as the tail hit him in the chest. The Force Push (Telekinesis/Force Jump) released from his hands, but not as the leap he had expected, but as a thunderous wave across the battlefield as he was flung like a brittle piece of rubble.
He smashed into a boulder back-first, feeling his spine nearly crack from the power as he scrambled to his knees, pulling his blade back to himself. He didn't waste any time, letting out a deafening wail (Force Scream). He ran at the pair as they charged back. Yarkar leapt into the air, grabbing onto the brow of one of them, readying to use it like a shield from the other while he readied himself to stab through its skull. It bucked like a bull at a rodeo while the other tried to slash the young Sith, but he held true, for now.
The beast smashing into the wall with the professor did not care for the maneuver of the forested one, slashing out with pain shooting in its jaw. It wasn't out quite yet, and it wasn't about to let Sa'ato forget that fact before he finished it off...
He smashed into a boulder back-first, feeling his spine nearly crack from the power as he scrambled to his knees, pulling his blade back to himself. He didn't waste any time, letting out a deafening wail (Force Scream). He ran at the pair as they charged back. Yarkar leapt into the air, grabbing onto the brow of one of them, readying to use it like a shield from the other while he readied himself to stab through its skull. It bucked like a bull at a rodeo while the other tried to slash the young Sith, but he held true, for now.
The beast smashing into the wall with the professor did not care for the maneuver of the forested one, slashing out with pain shooting in its jaw. It wasn't out quite yet, and it wasn't about to let Sa'ato forget that fact before he finished it off...
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Professor Mors
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Sa'ato's abominable foe released another hellish shriek once it had recovered, and raked its forepaws across the ruined tile in warning. In the time it took for the Terentatek to begin its charge anew, the Neti deactivated his shoto, and stretched out his left hand toward the beast. Keeping his lightsaber held at low-guard, as a precaution, the professor closed his eyes, and contemplated his next stratagem. He had not the strength nor the speed to match the foe. So then, rather than wage a battle of attrition, the academic made up his mind to change the conditions of the duel. The Force was the great equalizer– but balance, like all things, was easily manipulated…
[Begin Affliction Application]
With eyes still tightly shut, Sa'ato concentrated on his own unique signature in the Force– on the shell of mercurial energy that encased his fleeting, mortal form. Extending a single, sinuous finger, he altered the flow of that same energy, letting it collapse in on itself. It shuddered, shrank, and titrated down to a potent dewdrop that clung to the end of the Neti's outstretched digit. Then, he exhaled slowly, in spite of the hoofbeats growing louder and louder ahead. As his breath escaped from innumerous pores, the bead of the academic's spirit began to flatten and inch forward like some ghostly, prehensile fingernail.
No wider than a centimeter, the spectral nail travelled silently through the air, before Sa'ato turned his wrist so that it slid effortlessly through the wound he'd cut into the Terentatek's jaw only moments before. Now, this extension of himself, this cruel, viral agent of the Force was free to wreak havoc. And wreak it did. What had been a single droplet fizzled and burst apart at the Neti's mental command. Countless bubbles of the retired teacher's vile essence fluttered up through the beast's bloodstream. Some, that had been psionically pre-programmed to hijack oxygen rich cells, began to slow their progress with a steady application of cyrokinesis.
Others manically latched on to various organs, vibrating in place with Force-induced thermodynamics as they gradually broiled vital tissue. Worst of all were those specks of Sa'ato's essence that found their way to the nerve clusters. They beguiled basic sensory functions, magnified changes in temperature, befuddled the giant's equilibrium, and signalled pain where none was meant to exist in the first place. That phantom pain, real or not, drew the Dark Side to the site of Sa'ato microscopic assault, rejuvenating his cellular agents and setting the stage for the professor's coup de grace.
It took Sa'ato two or three tries until his thoughts were able to find and alight on the wild brute's adrenal glands. With a sweep of his hands, the Neti sent the remainder of his Force-borne microbes to bombard their vulnerable dermis. It was a two-pronged attack. First, he bade his miniscule horrors to absorb and gorge themselves on the rich metabolic energy so vital for the hulking quadruped's speed. Then, like a thousand tiny transmitters, they connected the academic's mind to the creature's nervous subconscious. It was one thing to touch a being's thinking mind– it was another matter entirely to trigger genetically-encoded instincts.
This did not stop Sa'ato from raising every neural alarm he and his minute manifestations could find. Fight was giving way to flight, he could sense it– could hear it as the pounding of hooves grew slower, weaker. The beast was tired, chilled, wavering– beaten. When the Neti finally opened his eyes, the once-mighty abomination was barely crawling forward, still a few feet away. The faintest discoloration could be noted, no doubt from the oxygen deprivation. Yes, the near-mindless monster practically wheezed with each step. Inhaling, the academic withdrew what parts of his spiritual energy would still heed his call, sheathing them round his open hand like a glove.
Sa'ato's orange saber flashed quickly and efficiently at the tired beast's fleshy throat. As he turned to observe the two behemoths menacing Yarkar, he could sense the returned, but irrevocably-changed flecks of his spirit gnawing at his oaken hand. These subdivisions of his mind, as they had changed the environment of the now-slain beast, had been changed themselves. Hunger and destruction were now all of which they were capable of. And who was the Neti to deny them? Eyeing the bit of tusk he had carved off prior, the professor flicked his psionic plague onto the makeshift arrowhead with one stern thought.
Lifting the hornlike mass with his mind, Sa'ato telekinetically hurled the chitinous projectile into the elbow of the beast which Yarkar had not haphazardly mounted. Having sampled bone and marrow on their flight over, the emissaries of the academic's unnatural affliction were delighted to find themselves lodged in a still-living buffet of the stuff. They drilled and slurped with the single-mindedness of a virus on the precipice of vanishing, causing a lifetime's worth of decay in the span of a minute. Osteoporosis ran rampant, and when the newly infected Terentatek went to claw at its subdued sibling, it howled in agony, claws crunching and disintegrating on impact.
Sa'ato could not suppress the slight grin on his face. This would surely give his companion the edge they needed…
[End Affliction Application, 747 Words]
[Begin Affliction Application]
With eyes still tightly shut, Sa'ato concentrated on his own unique signature in the Force– on the shell of mercurial energy that encased his fleeting, mortal form. Extending a single, sinuous finger, he altered the flow of that same energy, letting it collapse in on itself. It shuddered, shrank, and titrated down to a potent dewdrop that clung to the end of the Neti's outstretched digit. Then, he exhaled slowly, in spite of the hoofbeats growing louder and louder ahead. As his breath escaped from innumerous pores, the bead of the academic's spirit began to flatten and inch forward like some ghostly, prehensile fingernail.
No wider than a centimeter, the spectral nail travelled silently through the air, before Sa'ato turned his wrist so that it slid effortlessly through the wound he'd cut into the Terentatek's jaw only moments before. Now, this extension of himself, this cruel, viral agent of the Force was free to wreak havoc. And wreak it did. What had been a single droplet fizzled and burst apart at the Neti's mental command. Countless bubbles of the retired teacher's vile essence fluttered up through the beast's bloodstream. Some, that had been psionically pre-programmed to hijack oxygen rich cells, began to slow their progress with a steady application of cyrokinesis.
Others manically latched on to various organs, vibrating in place with Force-induced thermodynamics as they gradually broiled vital tissue. Worst of all were those specks of Sa'ato's essence that found their way to the nerve clusters. They beguiled basic sensory functions, magnified changes in temperature, befuddled the giant's equilibrium, and signalled pain where none was meant to exist in the first place. That phantom pain, real or not, drew the Dark Side to the site of Sa'ato microscopic assault, rejuvenating his cellular agents and setting the stage for the professor's coup de grace.
It took Sa'ato two or three tries until his thoughts were able to find and alight on the wild brute's adrenal glands. With a sweep of his hands, the Neti sent the remainder of his Force-borne microbes to bombard their vulnerable dermis. It was a two-pronged attack. First, he bade his miniscule horrors to absorb and gorge themselves on the rich metabolic energy so vital for the hulking quadruped's speed. Then, like a thousand tiny transmitters, they connected the academic's mind to the creature's nervous subconscious. It was one thing to touch a being's thinking mind– it was another matter entirely to trigger genetically-encoded instincts.
This did not stop Sa'ato from raising every neural alarm he and his minute manifestations could find. Fight was giving way to flight, he could sense it– could hear it as the pounding of hooves grew slower, weaker. The beast was tired, chilled, wavering– beaten. When the Neti finally opened his eyes, the once-mighty abomination was barely crawling forward, still a few feet away. The faintest discoloration could be noted, no doubt from the oxygen deprivation. Yes, the near-mindless monster practically wheezed with each step. Inhaling, the academic withdrew what parts of his spiritual energy would still heed his call, sheathing them round his open hand like a glove.
Sa'ato's orange saber flashed quickly and efficiently at the tired beast's fleshy throat. As he turned to observe the two behemoths menacing Yarkar, he could sense the returned, but irrevocably-changed flecks of his spirit gnawing at his oaken hand. These subdivisions of his mind, as they had changed the environment of the now-slain beast, had been changed themselves. Hunger and destruction were now all of which they were capable of. And who was the Neti to deny them? Eyeing the bit of tusk he had carved off prior, the professor flicked his psionic plague onto the makeshift arrowhead with one stern thought.
Lifting the hornlike mass with his mind, Sa'ato telekinetically hurled the chitinous projectile into the elbow of the beast which Yarkar had not haphazardly mounted. Having sampled bone and marrow on their flight over, the emissaries of the academic's unnatural affliction were delighted to find themselves lodged in a still-living buffet of the stuff. They drilled and slurped with the single-mindedness of a virus on the precipice of vanishing, causing a lifetime's worth of decay in the span of a minute. Osteoporosis ran rampant, and when the newly infected Terentatek went to claw at its subdued sibling, it howled in agony, claws crunching and disintegrating on impact.
Sa'ato could not suppress the slight grin on his face. This would surely give his companion the edge they needed…
[End Affliction Application, 747 Words]
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Sa'ato Mors
Sa'ato Mors
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Yarkar Edetar
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Yarkar watched in awe as plague spread among his foes. His face was filled with pride as he witnessed Death and Pestilence come for his foes, in a display of Dark might that he could only imagine. Yes, a fate like this would be kind to a pair of foes he had once felt like he knew. His mind compartmentalized this essence of torment as he witnessed the beasts begin to howl. He knew this was his chance. He watched the beast he rode have its elbow impaled by the horn of its brother, his own blade chopping down to finish the amputation as the plague spread through the creature. He grabbed onto its carapace, leaning back with as solid of a grip as he could while building up energy in his palm. He waited for just the right moment, his heart pounding with anticipation. He braced for the impact as he lets out as large of a push as he could muster, a powerful burst of the Force. The dying beast found its path headlong into its friend as Yarkar leapt from its back, watching as the beast's horns speared into the other foe.
As the plague took them both, Yarkar collapsed, sucking air through his teeth. As the adrenaline wore down, it was harder and harder to keep his focus, his spine was bruised and every move sent searing jolts of pain through his body. He had hurt before, but at least it was localized. This was everywhere, and he was lucky his bones were still the same count as they were prior, and that he hadn't severed a nerve...
As the plague took them both, Yarkar collapsed, sucking air through his teeth. As the adrenaline wore down, it was harder and harder to keep his focus, his spine was bruised and every move sent searing jolts of pain through his body. He had hurt before, but at least it was localized. This was everywhere, and he was lucky his bones were still the same count as they were prior, and that he hadn't severed a nerve...
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Professor Mors
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Sa'ato had trusted Yarkar to bring the enemy to heel. To the academic's relief and satisfaction, he saw that trust was not misplaced. "Impressive", the academic remarked, clutching his mangled arm and walking over to where his fatigued accomplice lay, "Most impressive. No arena could prepare one to face the most lethal of Sithspawn. Your strength in the Force is undeniable". Kneeling beside the youth, the professor helped his ward sit upright, and produced a medical stim from within his robe. Administering it in one swift jab, the Neti then held up a hand, willing his sinuous digits to sprout and triple in length.
"As much as I would advocate patience and allowing the stim to do its work", Sa'ato explained, concentrating on his vine-like extensions, "The beasts' commotion may have alerted local constabulary, and it would serve us to keep moving and remain undetected". Narrowing his gaze past the bludgeoned boy, the professor called on the Dark Side to affect temporary repairs. Carefully and deliberately, the Neti pressed beads of psionic energy across Yarkar's battered vertebrae. They did little for the pain– if anything, the agony was sure to increase as payment for such malevolent blessings. The academic was confident however that it would allow his companion to get a move on.
"It will only take a few minutes to retrieve the rest of the data", he announced, rising back to his feet, "Once we have what we need, we shall journey to the late Darth's citadel, on the far side of the planet…"
"As much as I would advocate patience and allowing the stim to do its work", Sa'ato explained, concentrating on his vine-like extensions, "The beasts' commotion may have alerted local constabulary, and it would serve us to keep moving and remain undetected". Narrowing his gaze past the bludgeoned boy, the professor called on the Dark Side to affect temporary repairs. Carefully and deliberately, the Neti pressed beads of psionic energy across Yarkar's battered vertebrae. They did little for the pain– if anything, the agony was sure to increase as payment for such malevolent blessings. The academic was confident however that it would allow his companion to get a move on.
"It will only take a few minutes to retrieve the rest of the data", he announced, rising back to his feet, "Once we have what we need, we shall journey to the late Darth's citadel, on the far side of the planet…"
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Sa'ato Mors
Sa'ato Mors
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Yarkar Edetar
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
"You speak of strength, yet not your own. The praise is appreciated, but recognize yourself first. I've almost grown fond of you, and would hate to see you eaten alive by your peers." The youth responded, trying to cover the gratitude for the medical stimulants pumping through his veins as he stands up. Both the stimulant, the Force-driven aid from the Neti, and his own dark blessings (Repair) mixed in his body. The soup of pain that had replaced his blood burned as he stood, the Dark enacting its price upon him. He thanked the Dark for its blessing, for bringing itself closer to him as the pain drove his connection to the Force, feeling it deepen as his soul raged in response.
"Patience is the way of Jedi. This is why they were overrun, they sat and waited for answers. As much as I would love to wait and slaughter what fools would defend this palace of weakness, I would prefer to move onwards as well." Yarkar brushed himself off, glad that he didn't get any blood onto his robes. He puts his saber back on his belt, spitting into a nearby pile of rubble, the pain too sharp at the moment to swallow as he stands tall, hiding the fact that he was injured. He shouldn't have been, like Sa'ato had said. They were Sithspawn, lesser beings. He shouldn't have let himself be harmed by beings of subservience.
"I will stand guard while you search. I hope that it's worthwhile, for our sake." Yarkar closes his eyes, letting his presence in the Force dwindle slightly, letting him open his senses to even the minutia of his environment. He let the Force ripple through the halls, coming back to him and giving him slight whispers of what it had seen, painting a picture in his mind (Surveillance).
"Patience is the way of Jedi. This is why they were overrun, they sat and waited for answers. As much as I would love to wait and slaughter what fools would defend this palace of weakness, I would prefer to move onwards as well." Yarkar brushed himself off, glad that he didn't get any blood onto his robes. He puts his saber back on his belt, spitting into a nearby pile of rubble, the pain too sharp at the moment to swallow as he stands tall, hiding the fact that he was injured. He shouldn't have been, like Sa'ato had said. They were Sithspawn, lesser beings. He shouldn't have let himself be harmed by beings of subservience.
"I will stand guard while you search. I hope that it's worthwhile, for our sake." Yarkar closes his eyes, letting his presence in the Force dwindle slightly, letting him open his senses to even the minutia of his environment. He let the Force ripple through the halls, coming back to him and giving him slight whispers of what it had seen, painting a picture in his mind (Surveillance).
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Professor Mors
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Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Sa'ato exhaled and shook his head in light of Yarkar's friendly appraisal, "I seek neither battle glory nor a fixation on strength of arms. Yes, I am well aware that of our Order my prowess is certainly the least impressive–". The Neti paused, and cast a grateful, if not relaxed, eye toward his companion, "You may rest easy, however, in the knowledge that when I am called to fight, I shall employ all methods at my disposal". The professor turned back and reflected internally on that remark. Indeed, he could hardly have survived the long four centuries without an adaptable frame of mind. His current quest– his queries, were perhaps little more than that: an adaptation.
A monotonous beeping broke Sa'ato from his meditations. While Yarkar's watch had proven unwarranted, the academic was glad that they were just as eager to make haste to their next, and primary destination. "Let us see if these deluded mystics managed to learn anything useful", the Neti hissed, sweeping his mantle out as he turned to leave…
***
For some hours, the Dark Side duo navigated the plains of kaluthin brush by speeder. Eventually, the grass grew so tall that it formed a pseudo-canopy, and they were forced to continue on foot. Camping out amongst the artificial brambles for an eve, they carried on the next day, finding the overgrowth so dense at points it became necessary to hack their way through. This continued until the sun neared the horizon, until, just before nightfall, the last overinflated vine gave way, and a sweeping desert wind spat sand onto the beleaguered Sith. Though Almas' lone moon was late in rising, the imposing, rhomboid shape of the late Darth's fortress was impossible to miss.
As the two entered the sandy clearing, the circumstances quickly became apparent. It was not simply a geological feature– the fortress emanated a clear and malicious aura. It was not that the surrounding life could not come closer, but that it would surely wither and fade in the event an attempt was made. "Jedi records indicated some attempts at archaeological missions", the Neti announced as the duo closed the gap, and the structure loomed larger and larger, "There were disruptions– cultists, criminals. Each time, entrance was gained artificially, through subterranean means".
At last, the elder and younger acolytes stood before an unblemished, metallic wall many centuries aged. Sa'ato gilt eyes scanned the material up and down, before, unannounced, he ignited his lightsaber, and swatted it nonchalantly against the tower's surface. Sparks flew, but not so much as a scorch mark or indentation appeared. "A beskar shell, or maybe an alchemical alloy", the Neti remarked more to himself than Yarkar, "During the New Sith Wars, the Jedi obliterated the outer fortifications, but were never able to fully penetrate the inner citadel, much less open it as intended".
The academic threw up his cowl as another biting wind blew past, before turning to face his ward, "I will inspect the west and northward walls for any inscriptions– I suggest you do the reverse. Call for me should you find something–". The Neti paused to look about, "If one thing is clear, we are alone in this place– at least for now". With that, the professor began to trudge off along the tower perimeter, until a particularly large cloud of sand and detritus obscured him from view…
A monotonous beeping broke Sa'ato from his meditations. While Yarkar's watch had proven unwarranted, the academic was glad that they were just as eager to make haste to their next, and primary destination. "Let us see if these deluded mystics managed to learn anything useful", the Neti hissed, sweeping his mantle out as he turned to leave…
For some hours, the Dark Side duo navigated the plains of kaluthin brush by speeder. Eventually, the grass grew so tall that it formed a pseudo-canopy, and they were forced to continue on foot. Camping out amongst the artificial brambles for an eve, they carried on the next day, finding the overgrowth so dense at points it became necessary to hack their way through. This continued until the sun neared the horizon, until, just before nightfall, the last overinflated vine gave way, and a sweeping desert wind spat sand onto the beleaguered Sith. Though Almas' lone moon was late in rising, the imposing, rhomboid shape of the late Darth's fortress was impossible to miss.
As the two entered the sandy clearing, the circumstances quickly became apparent. It was not simply a geological feature– the fortress emanated a clear and malicious aura. It was not that the surrounding life could not come closer, but that it would surely wither and fade in the event an attempt was made. "Jedi records indicated some attempts at archaeological missions", the Neti announced as the duo closed the gap, and the structure loomed larger and larger, "There were disruptions– cultists, criminals. Each time, entrance was gained artificially, through subterranean means".
At last, the elder and younger acolytes stood before an unblemished, metallic wall many centuries aged. Sa'ato gilt eyes scanned the material up and down, before, unannounced, he ignited his lightsaber, and swatted it nonchalantly against the tower's surface. Sparks flew, but not so much as a scorch mark or indentation appeared. "A beskar shell, or maybe an alchemical alloy", the Neti remarked more to himself than Yarkar, "During the New Sith Wars, the Jedi obliterated the outer fortifications, but were never able to fully penetrate the inner citadel, much less open it as intended".
The academic threw up his cowl as another biting wind blew past, before turning to face his ward, "I will inspect the west and northward walls for any inscriptions– I suggest you do the reverse. Call for me should you find something–". The Neti paused to look about, "If one thing is clear, we are alone in this place– at least for now". With that, the professor began to trudge off along the tower perimeter, until a particularly large cloud of sand and detritus obscured him from view…
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Sa'ato Mors
Sa'ato Mors
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Yarkar Edetar
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- Joined: Sat Nov 20, 2021 6:41 pm
Re: Where the Grass is Greener (Yarkar)
Yarkar huddled on the speeder, feeling the brush whip at his legs while they zipped through, hearing the pulsating hum of the engine fill his ears along with the rush of wind. As the canopy approached, he leaned harshly, using the bottom thrusters to slow him down as he turned perpendicular to his motion, sliding to a harsh stop. He was too fond of the feeling of g-forces in his ear to do anything else. Stopping gently is for those who can't handle some excitement.
He cracks his neck, continuing on foot beside the Neti. As he marched, he heard the elder acolyte speak of the history of this place. His only thought was conveyed by a slight smile at the corners of his lips. He loved how the Jedi tried to understand things beyond them. Perhaps it was hubris, but he knew they would find a way inside. After all, it's not like this place would be as pleasant to Jedi as it was to his own senses. It was dark, familiar, and powerful, as it should be.
Yarkar was, however, unaware of the concept of beskar. The only thing he'd witnessed that repelled blades like that was orbalisk shell, and that was biological... He sees the swat deflect, furrowing his brow as he tries to dig his own blade into the fortifications with a thrust. The crimson saber sparked, and he barely managed to make it look graceful by swiping it off to his right, raising it with a flourish before letting it shut down. He turns to Sa'ato with a cocky smirk to save face.
"What? You were the one who said you didn't have a passion for arms. Had to make sure it wasn't just you."
Yarkar nods at the instructions of the professor, striding off to look around the walls. He sank deep into himself, looking with all his senses for anything that could hint at a way to get in. After all, if the Jedi couldn't find it, they were either blind, too weak to get here, or not looking for dark power. He mildly believed the Neti could be misled that the visual was all that mattered here. The sand blew over him, his cloak billowing behind him as he trailed a glove along the side of the fortress, looking for anything he could find. He definitely felt... something under his fingers. He put an arm up to shield his face, but found it appeared to be mostly decorative, or so it seemed. He continued searching towards the southward wall, continuing his search. As the wind was in a more favorable direction now, he found it much easier to see. He felt something drawing him here. It wasn't exactly the Force, but he couldn't shake that the tug in his chest had origins in such an art. He closed his eyes, following the feeling before getting to a panel. He took a deep breath, feeling it fill his lungs as his chest felt tight.
Yarkar opens his eyes, the acolyte looking upon a weathered impression, filled with dust. He drags his finger through the inscriptions, scooping the dust into his glove as he tries in vain to clean out the inscription, but couldn't quite make out what it said. He wasn't even sure it was in Galactic Common... Nevertheless, he shouts, hoping the professor found something as interesting on his walls, or at the very least could interpret the inscription.
"I believe I've found something, definitely old. Think you can remember when this was written?"
He cracks his neck, continuing on foot beside the Neti. As he marched, he heard the elder acolyte speak of the history of this place. His only thought was conveyed by a slight smile at the corners of his lips. He loved how the Jedi tried to understand things beyond them. Perhaps it was hubris, but he knew they would find a way inside. After all, it's not like this place would be as pleasant to Jedi as it was to his own senses. It was dark, familiar, and powerful, as it should be.
Yarkar was, however, unaware of the concept of beskar. The only thing he'd witnessed that repelled blades like that was orbalisk shell, and that was biological... He sees the swat deflect, furrowing his brow as he tries to dig his own blade into the fortifications with a thrust. The crimson saber sparked, and he barely managed to make it look graceful by swiping it off to his right, raising it with a flourish before letting it shut down. He turns to Sa'ato with a cocky smirk to save face.
"What? You were the one who said you didn't have a passion for arms. Had to make sure it wasn't just you."
Yarkar nods at the instructions of the professor, striding off to look around the walls. He sank deep into himself, looking with all his senses for anything that could hint at a way to get in. After all, if the Jedi couldn't find it, they were either blind, too weak to get here, or not looking for dark power. He mildly believed the Neti could be misled that the visual was all that mattered here. The sand blew over him, his cloak billowing behind him as he trailed a glove along the side of the fortress, looking for anything he could find. He definitely felt... something under his fingers. He put an arm up to shield his face, but found it appeared to be mostly decorative, or so it seemed. He continued searching towards the southward wall, continuing his search. As the wind was in a more favorable direction now, he found it much easier to see. He felt something drawing him here. It wasn't exactly the Force, but he couldn't shake that the tug in his chest had origins in such an art. He closed his eyes, following the feeling before getting to a panel. He took a deep breath, feeling it fill his lungs as his chest felt tight.
Yarkar opens his eyes, the acolyte looking upon a weathered impression, filled with dust. He drags his finger through the inscriptions, scooping the dust into his glove as he tries in vain to clean out the inscription, but couldn't quite make out what it said. He wasn't even sure it was in Galactic Common... Nevertheless, he shouts, hoping the professor found something as interesting on his walls, or at the very least could interpret the inscription.
"I believe I've found something, definitely old. Think you can remember when this was written?"