Plot: The Shadow Spire
The galaxy whispers of Malachor V.
A world broken in war, its surface scarred and hollowed, its skies forever choked with ash. Long abandoned, it is said to be cursed — a graveyard of fleets and armies swallowed by the Dark Side itself. Few venture there willingly, and fewer return. Yet now, movement stirs among the ruins.
Strangers walk the canyons. Ships of unknown origin vanish into the storms. Scavenger guilds speak of men and women who offer impossible bargains: weapons for loyalty, credits for silence, and death for refusal. Whole camps have disappeared overnight, leaving only ash and torn banners behind. Something is being built in the shadow of the wreckage, something vast and unseen, and the planet itself seems to recoil at its rising.
No one claims responsibility. No faction admits to ownership. Some say it is the Sith, returning to a place steeped in their legacy. Others whisper of a new power moving quietly across the galaxy, choosing Malachor as their first throne. A few insist that Malachor belongs to no one — that those who dig too deeply will wake something older, something that remembers the war that shattered the world.
Whatever the truth, the call has gone out. Mercenaries, scavengers, wanderers, and seekers of power are drawn to Malachor's storm-wracked surface. Perhaps it is greed. Perhaps ambition. Perhaps the inexorable pull of the Dark Side itself.
If you are bold enough, the ruins await. The air burns with opportunity and ruin alike. Choose wisely where you stand, for those who claim Malachor will not surrender it easily — and those who fail will be buried beneath its ash.
Because from said ash...
The Dark Court rises!
The galaxy whispers of Malachor V.
A world broken in war, its surface scarred and hollowed, its skies forever choked with ash. Long abandoned, it is said to be cursed — a graveyard of fleets and armies swallowed by the Dark Side itself. Few venture there willingly, and fewer return. Yet now, movement stirs among the ruins.
Strangers walk the canyons. Ships of unknown origin vanish into the storms. Scavenger guilds speak of men and women who offer impossible bargains: weapons for loyalty, credits for silence, and death for refusal. Whole camps have disappeared overnight, leaving only ash and torn banners behind. Something is being built in the shadow of the wreckage, something vast and unseen, and the planet itself seems to recoil at its rising.
No one claims responsibility. No faction admits to ownership. Some say it is the Sith, returning to a place steeped in their legacy. Others whisper of a new power moving quietly across the galaxy, choosing Malachor as their first throne. A few insist that Malachor belongs to no one — that those who dig too deeply will wake something older, something that remembers the war that shattered the world.
Whatever the truth, the call has gone out. Mercenaries, scavengers, wanderers, and seekers of power are drawn to Malachor's storm-wracked surface. Perhaps it is greed. Perhaps ambition. Perhaps the inexorable pull of the Dark Side itself.
If you are bold enough, the ruins await. The air burns with opportunity and ruin alike. Choose wisely where you stand, for those who claim Malachor will not surrender it easily — and those who fail will be buried beneath its ash.
Because from said ash...
The Dark Court rises!
