Valley of the Dark Lords

It warmed Hyruza's frigid heart to hear Hevn play along with his dicey humor-- proof that the Dark Jedi was not just all metallic sheen and machine, as Hyruza quickly observed. The Sith Lord could have said thousands upon thousands of things to initiate their conversation. For their history spanned innumerable years. Should he not have opened up with something deemed a bit more appropriate? Hevn was not only a close ally, but a close friend. Though he would never admit it to him or to anyone. In some ways, he wouldn't even admit it to himself. Allies were valuable and necessary. Friends indefinitely provided catalysts to suffering-- something that he had recently known all to well, but it all the more fueled his hatred for those that opposed the dark side's holy ways and, in an almost paradoxical kind of avenue, hatred of himself as well. So it was for that particular reason that Hyruza had chosen such an off the cuff introduction. The two Lords had not locked eyes as of yet and kept their gaze on the bright red dot that was Korriban's setting star. Hyruza was simply enjoying Hevn's company. The glaucous looking Sith Lord closed his eyes as he chuckled inwardly at Hevn's two-face comment. He was always one to give backwards compliments. That was certainly a trait that hadn't felt foreign to Hyruza. He slowly opened his eyes upon hearing Hevn resume what Hyruza assumed to be further banter, but instead was a question that though seemed to be relatively simple, was actually hiding a tremendously weightier inquiry, though still simple in theory: "Where the hell did you go off to?" Upon hearing his question, Hyruza's face became bleak. He had not expected to be asked such a question so soon, the real question Hevn was asking. The reality was that most of whom Hyruza knew were all dead, or had gone into hiding. Of course, it wasn't so much like the hiding Hyruza had done. So perhaps it was fate that Hevn's curiosity flourished. Hyruza's expression remained neutral even as the two Lords had finally exchanged eye contact. Though Hevn knew so little, he could not have been more right. Darth Hyruza was alive as ever-- perhaps more so now then in his entire existence.

"I feel Archais's cause intriguing. The power of these shards are quite something, are they not? And I am even more interested in what can be achieved with the real thing. I am Sith, Hevn. I hunger for power. I am fully here for the cause, but I am here more for the opportunity for exploitation. I will take what I can get. Obviously, all of this can be done without treachery and causing damage to this sort of campaign, if you will, he turned his head away to look back at where the sun had now set, "Of course, you seek a more in depth answer. Still, what I say is true. Yes, I am here for power, but not to the point of compromise. In fact, you will get that answer from every Sith here, both those that are weak, and those that are worthy of their pursuit. So perhaps that is an unsatisfactory answer, the sorcerer folded his arms, the wind beginning to pick up again, "But, you ask your question with the assumption that I could have even been called upon in the first place," he paused to let Hevn soak in his statement if he ever so chose to, "I went somewhere, Hevn-- far beyond the unknown regions, far beyond what the galaxy has charted," Hyruza wasn't too sure if he should reveal all that had happened. He chose his words carefully. Revealing that he had discovered that he was part Celestial was something that no soul could know about yet, and he knew others, including Hevn, at least he suspected, would deem him insane, "I always thought I had been born in Imperial Space, but I was wrong. I discovered through various means that my origin lied beyond the galaxy. On my home world, war raged. I was called home to help change the tide. And we won," he paused, "However, sometimes things do not go as planned. Sometimes people are tricked into losing their memory, even their alignment with the Force. But even beyond that, sometimes people are tricked into hurting their own kind all the while blissfully unaware," he looked straight at Hevn with a stone cold gaze, "And sometimes people make mistakes so drastic that they cause permanent, everlasting pain for the ones they love-- mistakes so insurmountable that they cannot be undone. Not even the largest amount of effort can create even the tiniest chance of undoing," he turned back to where he had been previously facing, but tilted his head slightly towards one of the seven moons that had now found a snug place in the void, "But sometimes people remember their alignments and discover the power of being temporarily severed from what has been comfortable all their lives. It's one that not many understand. That is why my goal is simply power, but do not once think that is the end all as it is for most other Sith. I have only just rediscovered my alignment. I am starting fresh in some sense-- to rewrite my goals for the Sith and for myself. Venturing into this new territory will Force willingly guide me to those, for now, uncertain ideas." he breathed a heavy sigh, "The Sith take what they have for granted. And I will not tolerate such mentality and behavior. I suppose that is a goal I have already found from just being seated among certain Sith today that sit like kings, as you say, but bark like kath hounds. There are good ones yes, but be weary of those that cause you unrest. The Force favors our kind more than any other. Listen to its voice, and I will do the same," He let the sounds of beasts play their tune over his silence for a moment before speaking again. This time around, he directed the attention onto Hevn. He had taken a larger notice of his new cybernetic-like appearance,"You've gone through some changes yourself, no doubt. I wonder, what has brought you to this state? Where has your path taken you since my departure?" his tone gave hint that he was not implying that Hevn's new appearance was something of a "once was" aesthetic. Hyruza awaited his answer.

Hyruza fell silent. The pause between the two had grown, but it was comfortable. Hyruza sensed Hevn staring into the abyss of the Valley. It was there that terror awaited- and perhaps the Dark Jedi desired a taste of its succulent nectar. Hyruza posed a question as if to provoke Lord Hevn. He displayed a hauntingly mischievous smile.

"What lies beyond there?"

As he often did, he listened carefully, and in perpetual silence to Hyruza's reply. It was better to soak up the full grasp of his story. The process of its retaining and digestion came to an abrupt end when Hyruza's voice echoed from the back of his brain instead of into his ear. The ever present eyes. Hyruza adjusted his attention to a flicker of life detected through the force. They had been standing here long enough to notice the shift. The conversation has thus far been simple and it was their attentions being drawn to the beyond that they were each focused.

Bedrovelse gave no further thought to it, but agreed in Hyruza's conclusion to leave.

Hevn opens the comm on his wrist to summon his Sith Infiltrator. From the spaceport it rose and began to navigate the skies toward him.

It wouldn't surprise him if Archais has organized a following. He did send an assassin with the invitation after all. Though when Hevn considered his previous speculations of the Sith Lord hiding his presence, alongside being tracked on Korriban, things were getting dicey faster than anticipated.

"I'm sure we won't be the last to bid the Valley farewell."

The engines of Hevn's ship came roaring over the cliff. It spun, turning its weapons upon nearby rakghouls and creatures of the night with a stream of ruby darts spitting from the lasers. The ramp descends, but Hevn does not immediately approach. Turning to Hyruza he gives him a clap on the shoulder, shouting just above the sound of the Infiltrator's thrusters.

"See you on Kamino!"

Laughing he takes long strides up the ramp. When he vanishes it closes behind him. Taking his seat in the cockpit he directs the ship up and toward orbit, activating the stealth systems to make the Infiltrator vanish from sight and radar.

Maedhros acknowledged Zuka and proceeded towards the tomb. Maedhros was enthralled, he had read much about Naga Sadow and never expected to be before his tomb. Then as they approached the entrance, something that his excitement almost did not allow him to remember. Naga Sadow died on Yavin IV and never actually rested here in his tomb on Korriban. So what was it that called him. He peeked back at Zuka rather quickly to see if there was any indication that he felt the same. If this was the case then anything could be calling to him from within. Either way, to Maedhros this was a challenge and a chance to learn something.

Maedhros listened to Zuka as he walked through the entrance of the tomb. It was large for a tomb that holds nobody. Truly the ancient sith respected power.. thought back to his studies, and about what he read of the sith lord.

He ascended to power after the death of Marka Ragnos. He was one of the greatest wielders of Sith Magic and Alchemy there ever was. Revered for his talents in the dark arts and feared even more so by his those he came in contact with. He meant to start an empire in by surprising the Republic over the Empress Teta system however he was quickly defeated despite having the element of surprise.He turned to Zuka.* Overconfidence. *He faced forward and continued moving.* He then engaged the usurper Ludo Kreesh and killed him in a final battle. He fled to Korriban and the republic followed him, it was a quick battle. He fled Korriban in his meditation flare, and using his knowledge of sith magic caused a nearby star to go nova destroying his pursuers and made them believe that he was dead as well. He then took refuge on Yavin IV where he spent the rest of his days, experimenting on the Massassi. Until his death.

Chaotic winds heave mounds of sand and soot across the vast landscape of Korriban. The massive, endless walls of dust and dirt crashing against the stone carvings of the surrounding temples are not uncommon to the deserted planet. Much like the planet's familiarity with unforgiving traits of nature, so too does it understand a fellowship with the chaos of the Dark Side. The Valley of the Dark Lords had been shaped in chaos, stood a thousand years against war and reign.

Now, much of it rests in rubble. Once elaborately carved sepulchers now bare little difference to surrounding rock formations in the thick winds of sand and mystery. The great valley has become a labyrinth of shattered stone obelisks leading to and from various dead ends and temple entrances sealed long ago. Despite the vast abandon of the planet's surface, the remains of the living still linger; scattered throughout the valley, petrified corpses lie sprawled across the warm sands with their final belongings - mostly simple - medpacks long since dried up rest bundled in bags of rations as stiff and expired as the archaic tools used to construct these mighty tombs a millennia before. Blaster pistols crusted and clogged with dry, red sand, once wetted with spilt blood. They are what remains of wars fought long ago. Of exploration's end. Of hope collapsing into despair. In the chaos of the sands of Korriban, it is all the same. But beneath the sun beaten sands of The Valley of the Dark Lords, something stirs.

The drifting winds begin to calm, the blinding sands settling across the plains as a figure enters view. Bundled in tattered cloth and drapery, covered head to knee, the figure walks amongst the wreckage of the valley, barefoot. The great sands settle more and more as the figure becomes more and more present within the tomb arrangements. He is alone, with a simple rucksack slung across his back, his face shrouded in cloth wraps and sand guards, a tuft of grey and white hair peaking through the wrappings. He carries a long slender grey staff, a full head taller than him, atop of which sits a small statuette. He uses this liberally to test the sands before him, previous to stepping forward. With both hands grasping tightly, he pokes various mounds of sand as he moves onward.

He moves through the labyrinthian wreckage briskly, still taking care to dig his toes into the sand as he solves the puzzle with reasonable aim. In silence, and relative peace, he works towards the center of the terrain, coming to a courtyard of rubble, a great intersection leading several directions, where large mounds of sand and rubble have collected at the corners of each mouth. The figure pauses, resting on his staff. Several long, thick, grey hairs peak from under his cloak and mask, flowing back and forth as the figure looks from route to route. After a few moments, the figure heaves a sigh and scuffles to one of the several sand mounds, wrapping a gloved finger about the long whiskers protruding from his mask, and squats to sit upon the mound.

Suddenly, with a great rumble and hiss, the mound explodes into a hail of peppering sand, throwing the man across the courtyard in a heap.

The man rolls through the air, springing to his feet, his staff stretched out towards his previous seating. The sands settle quickly, revealing a large divot, a nest of sorts, currently occupied by a vicious, snarling Hssiss. It’s tail curled upon itself, a creature hungry for flesh, the Hssiss crawls forward.

The cloaked figure wastes little time looking at the beast, and little time choosing direction, before quickly turning on his heel and sprinting down one of the rubble paths, followed quickly by the snarling dragon. Dodging corner and straight, the man keeps just ahead of the Dark Side beast, the racing maw clamping sands kicking beneath the traveler’s feet, until finally reaching a steep wall before him.

A temple wall. A dead end.

The man turns front to the trail travelled behind him, coming immediately face to maw of the great Hssiss. He raises his staff to meet the mouth full of daggers, pinning the monster's jaw open, like the reins of a tamed bantha mount, his hands gripping either end in an attempt to control the beast’s mighty push. The two struggle against one another, the Hssiss throwing the man to the ground, pinning him against the thick sands. The man grips his staff tightly, pushing with all his might as the Hssiss slowly pushes him into the sands beneath, further and further into a bedding of course dunes and hot streams of Hssiss drool, until finally, he contests against the dragon's strength. The Dark Side of The Force swells between the two contestants as the man’s strength seems to grow, pushing the creature back.

He reaches out to the end of his staff, gripping the small statue at the top. Giving it a hard twist, he pulls the figurine loose and with a great burst of power, a great crimson blade of light springs from the statuette's base. In the blink of an eye, the man plunges the beaming blade into the Hssiss, ripping and burning its flesh at the base of the leviathan’s muzzle. The dragon rears upwards in shrieking pain, crashing against the stone wall with a crack, its jaw falling with a splat. The Hssiss slumps towards the ground, smearing blood and char against the temple wall as it slides.

The figure in tatters stands at guard as the beast releases a final breath before loosing spark. He deactivates the crimson lightsaber and reconnects it to his staff. He leans against the staff and brushes himself off, grumbling to himself in a low, rasping, almost mechanical voice.

The slumped mass of Hssiss had bled quickly, its corpse beginning to slump into the wet sands, more and more, to the man's surprise until finally, the creature sinks away under the temple wall, revealing a small entry point to the temple above.

The man heaves his shoulders forward, shaking sand from his cloak. Eyes gazing into the portal, there is little hesitation. The ragged character enters the sepulcher, vanishing from the sun drenched valley, into the darkness of the tomb.