A Reckoning of Flesh and Blood
No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness...
Deep within the Outer Rim territories on the outskirts of the Tion Cluster is the planet of Rhen Var. Thousands of years ago, the world was a lush and fertile paradise, but an atmospheric cataclysm left the planet cold and desolate. All that remains of human habitation are now gripped by the icy darkness; ruins of the galactic powers that once treated Rhen Var as a strategic point. The only people that call them home now are the ghosts of the damned who died cold and alone to attack and defend this otherwise lifeless world. A testament to the futility of warfare that has been largely lost to time and memory.
Within the twisting frozen valleys are signs more ancient than even those though. Millenia have passed since the ancient tomb was built, but even the passage of time could not hide the Sith architecture that dominates the visage from the outside. Effigies of Sith Lords who have been since forgotten stand as stoic guardians to the dark entrance. A heavy air of corruption lingers, as if breathing the air itself was a burdensome sin. Even visible light seems to dim in the immediate area and creates with it a sense of impending dread that is determined to follow all who encounter it.
With no doors, it appears as if those stone guardians invite people to enter. Motionless as they are, the sensation of eyes watching cannot be shaken. The entrance to the tomb consumes all sound once one steps inside, and it was as if the world around had become much more calm and composed in spite of the harsh frozen winds howling just outside. Light sources struggle to illuminate the solitary stairwell, and even in the cold there appears to be an unsettling wetness along the stone emanating from the eyes of stone from faces contorted in pain. The sensation of their suffering seems to subtle, but one could swear the screams of the damned could be heard in the otherwise silent crypt.
Entering further still, the light narrows with the stairs, and the acrid smell of blood and bile begins to fill the air. It defies logic as the world is devoid of life, but these scents are fresh and strong. Upon inspection the stone carvings continue along and display harsh evisceration of the subjects in question. In opposition to reality the wounds themselves seem to bleed as if carved into living flesh.
There is one central figure that appears in each carved relief, and it towers above what appear to be supplicants that worship the being as a God. The flesh harvested from the other effigies is offered to the figure as tribute, where upon it is consumed by all in profane communion. Those that have partaken are shown further down the stairwell, but have become corrupted by the sin they have committed. They still stand in awe of the towering figure, but now appear to have taken on similar appearances on a much smaller scale.
Leading into an ancient rotunda with more of these heinous carvings displaying what is implied to be the history of this vile tomb. In the center is a striking statue of the central figure that seems to be the object of their worship. At the foot of the statue appear to be offerings frozen in time; flesh from an unknown source left in reverence of the power the figure exudes. The stone itself is of startling detail. From the statue it is easy now to see that the apparent God is a woman with horrifying proportions. She is much taller than the supplicant that stands beside her, and her arms appear to be long, ending in long-fingered hands that terminate in tapered claws that look to be dripping with blood. Interspersed among the obviously scarred and wounded flesh are areas of smooth stone that imply perhaps armor or some kind of attire that serves a ceremonial purpose; the most striking of which is the wide headpiece that covers the eyes and leaves only the mouth exposed.
Around the pedestal Sith runes are carved, speaking of the being in both fear and reverence. To those that can read such a forbidden and profane language, it mentions the being is named Zoyût and she is the Grand Cenobite of the Order of the Flesh, as well as a date of birth. The most chilling feature on the statue's pedestal however, is not what is there, but what was lacking in the carvings. A date of death.
While such an omission could have been chalked up to the creator of the statue dying before completing their work, the voice that seemed to speak directly into the mind of any in the room put any theory to rest that suggested this tomb was silent and dead like the rest of the planet.
"Welcome..." was all the female voice said. It was one simple word, but with it carried the weight of terror an unexpected inhabitant could as light sources in the immediate vicinity suffer an momentary failure that requires a manual reactivation. Even in the pitch darkness though, it is impossible to shake the feeling that there is a looming figure hovering just behind.
Nerd Wizard
Sergeant Omen
Within the twisting frozen valleys are signs more ancient than even those though. Millenia have passed since the ancient tomb was built, but even the passage of time could not hide the Sith architecture that dominates the visage from the outside. Effigies of Sith Lords who have been since forgotten stand as stoic guardians to the dark entrance. A heavy air of corruption lingers, as if breathing the air itself was a burdensome sin. Even visible light seems to dim in the immediate area and creates with it a sense of impending dread that is determined to follow all who encounter it.
With no doors, it appears as if those stone guardians invite people to enter. Motionless as they are, the sensation of eyes watching cannot be shaken. The entrance to the tomb consumes all sound once one steps inside, and it was as if the world around had become much more calm and composed in spite of the harsh frozen winds howling just outside. Light sources struggle to illuminate the solitary stairwell, and even in the cold there appears to be an unsettling wetness along the stone emanating from the eyes of stone from faces contorted in pain. The sensation of their suffering seems to subtle, but one could swear the screams of the damned could be heard in the otherwise silent crypt.
Entering further still, the light narrows with the stairs, and the acrid smell of blood and bile begins to fill the air. It defies logic as the world is devoid of life, but these scents are fresh and strong. Upon inspection the stone carvings continue along and display harsh evisceration of the subjects in question. In opposition to reality the wounds themselves seem to bleed as if carved into living flesh.
There is one central figure that appears in each carved relief, and it towers above what appear to be supplicants that worship the being as a God. The flesh harvested from the other effigies is offered to the figure as tribute, where upon it is consumed by all in profane communion. Those that have partaken are shown further down the stairwell, but have become corrupted by the sin they have committed. They still stand in awe of the towering figure, but now appear to have taken on similar appearances on a much smaller scale.
Leading into an ancient rotunda with more of these heinous carvings displaying what is implied to be the history of this vile tomb. In the center is a striking statue of the central figure that seems to be the object of their worship. At the foot of the statue appear to be offerings frozen in time; flesh from an unknown source left in reverence of the power the figure exudes. The stone itself is of startling detail. From the statue it is easy now to see that the apparent God is a woman with horrifying proportions. She is much taller than the supplicant that stands beside her, and her arms appear to be long, ending in long-fingered hands that terminate in tapered claws that look to be dripping with blood. Interspersed among the obviously scarred and wounded flesh are areas of smooth stone that imply perhaps armor or some kind of attire that serves a ceremonial purpose; the most striking of which is the wide headpiece that covers the eyes and leaves only the mouth exposed.
Around the pedestal Sith runes are carved, speaking of the being in both fear and reverence. To those that can read such a forbidden and profane language, it mentions the being is named Zoyût and she is the Grand Cenobite of the Order of the Flesh, as well as a date of birth. The most chilling feature on the statue's pedestal however, is not what is there, but what was lacking in the carvings. A date of death.
While such an omission could have been chalked up to the creator of the statue dying before completing their work, the voice that seemed to speak directly into the mind of any in the room put any theory to rest that suggested this tomb was silent and dead like the rest of the planet.
"Welcome..." was all the female voice said. It was one simple word, but with it carried the weight of terror an unexpected inhabitant could as light sources in the immediate vicinity suffer an momentary failure that requires a manual reactivation. Even in the pitch darkness though, it is impossible to shake the feeling that there is a looming figure hovering just behind.
Nerd Wizard
Sergeant Omen
