She Who Has No Name
Location: Umbara, Fortress Varran
Characters:
Garric Wrennar
The Lord of Hunger
The sky above Umbara's long stretching forest burns with the dim light of distant stars and the setting sun, casting long shadows across the jagged terrain. The twin moons slowly rose above the horizon, hanging like grey pearls. Winds whip through dense forests of twisting trees and overgrown vines, howling like the souls of the damned. Amidst the desolation lies FORTRESS VARRAN, a sprawling old imperial mining camp wrapped in steel and oppression. Colossal durasteel walls, laced with pulsating red energy grids, rose high into the air — humming with latent power, warding off any thought of escape. At each corner of the wall, automated turbolaser towers scan the perimeter with eerie precision, while hovering sentry drones drift silently between them, their sensors sweeping for movement.
Within the compound, locals—thin, dirt-smeared miners in tattered garb—shuffle between duty posts under the unblinking watch of black armored troopers, elite enforcers of the new warden of the prison, a dark figure whose presence is felt even when unseen. These 4 elite looking soldiers were wearing obsidian-black armor that was reminiscent of the old Purge Troopers from the Galactic Empire Era, with helmets designed to be intimidating, and cruel. Scattered around were regular troopers in more simple armor, light in quality and grey in coloration, with blasters in hand, watching the over three hundred prisoners with triggers ready.
The heart of the complex opens into a vast, grated shaft that drops deep into the bowels of the planet. This area was referred to as The Pit, a vast subterranean prison-mine where prisoners toil for precious metals such as Doonium, a valuable resource in star ship construction. Massive industrial lifts groan under the weight of harvested ore and broken bodies, ascending and descending in rhythmic torment. Chains rattle. Sirens wail. Floodlights flicker to life as another shift begins.
At the far end of the compound, beyond rows of blast-proof barracks and fenced watch stations, lies the landing platform — a vast, open slab of durasteel etched with the sigils of the Sith Order. A large dropship was present at one side, its shape refined and battle ready, as if prepared for any form of aerial combat. On the other side of the platform was a different star ship. What looks like personal transport vessel that a figure of significant wealth or power would use to go from planet to planet. At the centre of the complex's building was a tower, tall and foreboding, with black one way glass and more Automated Turbolasers turrets, each aiming for either the sky or perimeter like the others. At the top was the warden, and the remaining 7 elite soldiers, with a handful of terminal workers keeping reports, orders, and status checks flowing across the whole site, both above and underground. The Warden's breath came through her mask as a form of raspy, horse breathing as if through a damaged rebreather. The woman in sleek black armor, metal grafted pieces along her arms and shoulders, with a sheened silver helmet stood at the glass. A visual remnant of the past, the new figure of power wearing what was akin to Sith Stalker armor used by very few Sith of the old Empire Era. A lightsaber hung from her hip, with her arms crossed as she watched the world below. Whilst she remained silent, the force wasn't. Her presence alone had caused a strange feeling to wash over the land. Given that this Sith was a near Wound in the Force, any Force Sensitive in the area would be sure to notice.
Characters:
Garric Wrennar
The Lord of Hunger
The sky above Umbara's long stretching forest burns with the dim light of distant stars and the setting sun, casting long shadows across the jagged terrain. The twin moons slowly rose above the horizon, hanging like grey pearls. Winds whip through dense forests of twisting trees and overgrown vines, howling like the souls of the damned. Amidst the desolation lies FORTRESS VARRAN, a sprawling old imperial mining camp wrapped in steel and oppression. Colossal durasteel walls, laced with pulsating red energy grids, rose high into the air — humming with latent power, warding off any thought of escape. At each corner of the wall, automated turbolaser towers scan the perimeter with eerie precision, while hovering sentry drones drift silently between them, their sensors sweeping for movement.
Within the compound, locals—thin, dirt-smeared miners in tattered garb—shuffle between duty posts under the unblinking watch of black armored troopers, elite enforcers of the new warden of the prison, a dark figure whose presence is felt even when unseen. These 4 elite looking soldiers were wearing obsidian-black armor that was reminiscent of the old Purge Troopers from the Galactic Empire Era, with helmets designed to be intimidating, and cruel. Scattered around were regular troopers in more simple armor, light in quality and grey in coloration, with blasters in hand, watching the over three hundred prisoners with triggers ready.
The heart of the complex opens into a vast, grated shaft that drops deep into the bowels of the planet. This area was referred to as The Pit, a vast subterranean prison-mine where prisoners toil for precious metals such as Doonium, a valuable resource in star ship construction. Massive industrial lifts groan under the weight of harvested ore and broken bodies, ascending and descending in rhythmic torment. Chains rattle. Sirens wail. Floodlights flicker to life as another shift begins.
At the far end of the compound, beyond rows of blast-proof barracks and fenced watch stations, lies the landing platform — a vast, open slab of durasteel etched with the sigils of the Sith Order. A large dropship was present at one side, its shape refined and battle ready, as if prepared for any form of aerial combat. On the other side of the platform was a different star ship. What looks like personal transport vessel that a figure of significant wealth or power would use to go from planet to planet. At the centre of the complex's building was a tower, tall and foreboding, with black one way glass and more Automated Turbolasers turrets, each aiming for either the sky or perimeter like the others. At the top was the warden, and the remaining 7 elite soldiers, with a handful of terminal workers keeping reports, orders, and status checks flowing across the whole site, both above and underground. The Warden's breath came through her mask as a form of raspy, horse breathing as if through a damaged rebreather. The woman in sleek black armor, metal grafted pieces along her arms and shoulders, with a sheened silver helmet stood at the glass. A visual remnant of the past, the new figure of power wearing what was akin to Sith Stalker armor used by very few Sith of the old Empire Era. A lightsaber hung from her hip, with her arms crossed as she watched the world below. Whilst she remained silent, the force wasn't. Her presence alone had caused a strange feeling to wash over the land. Given that this Sith was a near Wound in the Force, any Force Sensitive in the area would be sure to notice.
