Valley of the Dark Lords

"Whether it be the love of money or the thrill of an exciting time makes no difference to me mercenary. For you will get neither if we continued to wait around any longer. And you misunderstand. I wasn't assuming that you had worn yourself out. I was simply saying that some of the more challenging beasts that are kept as guardians in these tombs will require every ounce of our combined power."

As I continue to walk through the dim lighting of the tomb, I feel the energy continue to get stronger, step by step. It was a subtle thing, yet still very noticeable. The single ignited blade of my lightsaber illuminated the air with it's bright red light a few feet ahead of me, but there was still a darkness beyond that, which kept many more of the tombs secrets.

We're getting closer to our intended prize. So be even more alert than you have been so far. The burial chamber of this tomb is going to be crawling with all sorts of nasties, and perhaps just as many hidden traps.

"I am not for certain. It could be another few hundred feet, or, as you implied before, this tomb could go on for kilometers. All I know is that the force energy of this place is getting stronger in a subtle way the farther down this corridor that we walk."

I hear a snarling from the darkness up ahead.

"I hope you have plenty of ammunition, mercenary. The beast that made that noise, it's not alone. They move fast and can hit hard. I'm not for certain what it is, but with the all of the creatures used by the ancient sith lords as tomb guardians... And other purposes... We're either heading toward a nest of Nexus, or a pack of Tu'Kata.

I pause in the middle of the hallway and turn my head to face my companion, igniting the second blade of my lightsaber so there's even more light, and more killing power.

"I'm going to go forward here and kill the leader of the pack or the nest, if you anything furry, four legged and with nasty teeth and claws comes running this way, you add as much weight to it in lead that you can. All this walking around is boring me, I need a work out."

I concentrate again on all of the dark emotions that fill my soul, every time I was ever angered, everyone I've ever hated, every unsettled grudge that fills my being pulsates through every fiber of my being. Again, I concentrate the force through all of this negativity, and feel the rage burning within me, within my soul and within my being. With a quickness I pull my left hand back and a flame appears to resonate from the palm of my hand burning upwards, then I throw it forward with an extremely loud scream, sending an intense fireball towards the group.

Then I rush forward through the area the pack had first been. One of the beasts jumps down from the wall in front of me. With a quickness, I take my saber in front of my horizontally, and continuing on with the motion I attack the creature with a swing from my right blade aiming for the head, then I pull it back over my left shoulder and make a downward stabbing attack aimed at the base of the creatures skull. Then I pull the blade swiftly to the right, effectively decapitating it.

I'll be out as soon as I get the holocron!

After shouting that at Devlin I turn and continue to rush forward with my saber in my right hand. The entrance to the burial chamber is not that far ahead, and it is magnetically sealed behind a metal door.

Now for my prize.

I shove one of the blades of my lightsaber in the door with extreme force, feeling it penetrate through the old metal barrier. Then I pull the blade up forcefully to a height just above my head, and continue to the left. Once there was a nice L shaped cut, I bring the blade down to the floor, and ram it over to the right. Before the door has a chance to fall on me, I focus the strength of my will and my anger through the force and push my left hand forward, sending a force push against the door, knocking it in.

Once the surrounding metal has cooled down and completely solidified again I step through to the burial chamber. Upon entering I see a pack of 3 Tu'Kata, many of which turn to look at me and snarl. The sight of this obsticle enrages me, and instinctually I concentrate the force through all of this rage, using the force to send myself into a fury, increasing my speed and my strength. I then rush forward to the nearest Tu'Kata, bringing my blade horizontally across my body, once again bringing the right blade to forward to attack the animal's face, then striking with the opposite blade at the left side of the creatures body. Then I turn the blade vertically and target the center of the head.

With that one out of the way, I rush at the other one which pounces at me in self defense. I duck quickly to the left and then turn to attack the animal with a powerful swing of the left blade aiming at the animals back right leg. Then, with my saber being in a horizontal position I swing the bottom blade upwards in a swift motion aiming for the animals underbelly, and continuing with the motion I make a very swift downward strike in between the animals shoulder blades.

I then turn to face the remaining Tu'Kata which had done the same. The rage within me increases, and against my better judgement I concentrate the force even more through this rage, feeling it once again pulsate through my body in powerful currents. With a tremendous yell I throw my left hand forward again sending force lightening into the animal. Without hesitation I then rush the wounded beast, holding my saber so that it is positioned horizontally to my right, blades protruding front to back. Then in a swift motion I make an upward attack, swinging the rear blade upwards aiming at the beasts lower jaw and finish it off with a downward stab to the skull.

With the room cleared of beasts, I disengage both blades of my lightsaber, sit down on the floor to recover from the exertion I had just made. I close my eyes meditating in the way that my master had taught me to in order to recover from such a battle. In my mind, there is an empty barren plain underneath a dark sky. I see a well, the water within symbolizing me power through the force. Upon approaching the well I see an old feeble woman, signifying the barrier preventing me from accessing this power. I push this old woman aside, cup my hands and begin to drink from the well. After a few cupped handfuls of the water I feel fully recharged and come out of my meditation.

A quick observation of room reveals chest next to the sarcophagus of the ancient sith lord. I walk over to it and kneel in front of it. Knowing that opening it might engage another hidden trap, I begin to look around the room again. I turn around, and behind me is a series of holes in the wall, aligned perfectly so that if anything were to shoot out of it, a person would catch whatever it was along their spinal chord and in the back of their head. With that observation I scoot off to the right side of the chest and ease it open. As soon as it is all the way open a series of sharp metal rods come out of the holes, stopping right before the chest. Inside I notice the small pyramid shaped holocron along with the robes and lightsaber of the sith lord of old.

I grab the holocron hide it away within my robes, then start to walk out. Out of the darkness of the tomb I here a laugh, then a voice.

Darth Umbra! You have braved the perils of my tomb and proved yourself strong enough and worthy enough to claim my knowledge for yourself. Go now! And use the power you have gained against your enemies! And when you have left this tomb, do not EVER come back.

An ice cold chill runs through my body as I hear the ghost of the ancient. After the voice stops, I exit the burial chamber and begin to walk back to where Devlin is.

I notice the blood flowing from a wound in Devlin, and the mass of bodies in the corridor behind him. I nod my head as an impressed smile comes across my face.

"There is no reason to be sorry, mercenary. The way you decorated the hallway back there with the blood of those ugly beasts, your failure in getting wounded by one of them is over shadowed."

The appearance of the wound is nasty, and clearly the work of a Hssiss. The poison is slow acting, luckily for the mercenary. Although if he does not get treatment within a day or so, the poison will course through his body and it's the end of him.

"You're not dead yet mercenary, and your contract to me is not yet fulfilled. It's not a fast acting poison, but if you don't get it healed within a day or so, that's not going to matter."

I begin to ponder, looking through my memories very briefly, then I begin to shake my head.

"But I do not know of any Jedi personally. Although I know that, in their arrogance they send their 'knights' here in a poor attempt to steal artifacts out of some misguided sense of protecting the galaxy from knowledge they consider forbidden. I sense that if we go back to the cantina, we'll find what we need. I do hope you don't expect me to carry you back.

I follow Devlin back to his ship and into the cockpit. The discoloration in his veins convey the dark side nature of the poison.

"It's not you're time to die yet, mercenary. There's many more battles for you before you meet that end. I'm not going to let you die until you've fulfilled your contract. After that, then I care not what happens to you."

I watch as the mercenary starts to drink his alcohol, most likely to ease the pain that he's no doubt in. He then says I'll have to fly his ship back to Dreshdae, then his body falls forward with a thud, he's unconscious. I sit in the pilot seat and fire the engines up and take off. Upon taking off, I feel a disruption in the dark side energy of the planet.

"Well then mercenary, it seems like your problem is soon to be fixed."

Power draws power. That is the way of the world - the most powerful beings always must determine who dominates, and are thus drawn together and thrown at each other by forces more powerful than they. Yes, there are forces bigger than the entities that mortals name. After all, even the biggest fish in the oceans are still subject to the push, prod, and pull of the currents, the pressure of the water. Power draws power.

This was a place of power. Zechar could feel it throbbing in the sand and stone under his feet. He could almost see it, like a shadow in the wind that swept through the valley. He looked at the towering statues and structures, the edifices that marked the Dark Lords' tombs, and he snarled appreciatively. These had been men of power, and now Zechar placed himself in their company. It was not an idle gesture, either. The Exile was making a statement.

He walked through the valley, shadowed by the memories of the dead, until he came to a large rock, jutting up from the ground roughly in the valley's center. This would do. The Exile mounted the rock and, stepping to the outcropping's tip, drew Astares from where it hung, lurking at his back like a dragon's wings. Slowly, feeling his joints flex, Zechar began to whirl the sword around his head.

He had been an Exile long enough. Now, he was building his own place - one from which he would never be, could never be exiled. He had been alone long enough, and it was time to call others. The black wind blew around him as he drew his power, summoning strength for a spell he had learned from his tome. His fanged mouth hissed the words as he swung faster and faster, building the weapon's movements into a humming, whirring throb in the air.

"Vocare ad regnum."

Astares, cackling in his hands, was suddenly screaming with released power as he drove it down into the stone beneath his feet. Zechar felt the power roar out from his body, seeming a gust of shadowy air that made a vortex around his body before shooting into the evening sky and vanishing. The call had been made.

Grinning savagely, Zechar left the sword in the stone and stepped away, squatting to make camp atop the boulder. Night was falling, but for Zechar, it was a new beginning.

Come to me. I have called you.

Night was falling and the desert's breath hissed through the canyon; fierce for this time of year. The odd thing was that it wasn't constant; that is, one moment, it would rush down into the canyon, the next, it would come back, pushing back, like it was expelled from a lung. The air grew hotter, drier - maybe thicker, even. Night's gloom was becoming preternatural, almost impenetrable.

Name yourselves, first of mine.

A single flicker of light suddenly revealed itself - a fire, lit atop a boulder jutting up from the canyon floor. If a man were to stand in the right spot, he might see the silhouette of a massive sword, stark against the firelight.

Nobody could be seen near the fire, but each man would hear a voice.

"First of mine. I've been waiting."

The wind around them was suddenly stilled, like a breath caught. Something touched Zechar's mind; an impression, a certainty, a knowing. He had been heard.

Brother, I am returning.

Almost as soon as the name left Caius' mouth, there was a scream in the darkness to his left. One of the mercenaries vanished, his shriek of terror interrupted by a liquid crunch and turning into a bubbling cough, and then silence. The darkness snarled.

"You're not here by my call, then."

Silence attempted to return but was driven off with an electric hiss. On Caius' far right, a red glow flashed for an instant as a crimson lightsaber carved a second mercenary into three pieces with two savage strokes. The mercenary screamed but was cut short, and in that ruby flash a hulking form was momentarily revealed: a towering, monstrous shape, cloaked in black. The lightsaber was quenched as quickly as it was lit, however, and the attacker disappeared.

"You know my name, but I do not know yours."

Invisible hands seized Jory and lifted him from where he stood, armor and bones cracked as his body was grotesquely contorted, twisted, his ribcage rotating under his skin as he screamed and babbled. Then his spine snapped, and he was silent, blood frothing from his mouth as his corpse cooled in the dirt.

"Somebody sent you; somebody who knows me."

Katariah was the fourth to be taken. She almost heard him coming in time, turning and getting one shot off into the darkness behind them - but missing. The bolt's illumination, brief as it was before it flickered away into the canyon wall, showed a thick arm, red and scaled, and a claw-like hand. This hand enveloped her face and the fingers crunched in. The palm muffled her abrupt scream as her skull shattered.

"You've come from Ishmael, haven't you."

The electric hiss sounded again, and this time the blade was lit two yards in front of Ragnar and Caius. Its light gave the best picture of their enemy that they had yet seen: cloaked in black, huge, hulking, and a face hidden in the shadows of a deep hood. His wardrobe was nothing unusual for any Jedi or Sith or other Force-user, but there was something about him that was quite simply monstrous, dark, and horrifying.

"He should know better," the voice rumbled, as Zechar stepped forward and brushed back his hood, revealing his face. It was human, but mutant. His cheekbones were more pronounced, sharper and higher; his eyes slitted and feral; and his mouth deep and grinning, showing glittering fangs. His black hair fell to his chin, straggling and unkempt about his face. "He should have known that I would kill you if you came to me like this."