First Reply Dread by Design

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Iokath
OBJECTIVE: To uncover and claim old tech from the remains of the old civilizations
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: @Open

Iokath had quite the history, as it was built on a foundation of technological supremacy and undaunted, unbridled progress. Yet in time, this progress without limitations had caused the very downfall of those who had started this technological boom, this inevitable arms race which eventually swallowed the system whole, bringing about the apocalyptic end of its people and leaving in its wake naught but the ruins of their existence, the shell of their history in the form of cold logic and unflinching, chaos-driven technology. Many in the past had ventured to this system, seeking truths, seeking answers to plights unknown. there were instances where one managed to gain access to vaults of untold knowledge and technological supremacy of old, times when one had managed to take control and take possession of weapons so outside of the realms of possibility, that anything that would encounter these items or storages of great wonder and power, would denote them as superweapons.

The being slowly turning into orbit around the encapsulated star of the system, Looking down upon the broken artificial world of Iokath from the safety of his harness suspending him within the bridge of his mighty vessel; the Glutoneria, The Lord of Hunger did not seek superweapons or weapons of mass destruction. Not because he could not use them, but simply because he had little care for things his very mind had already managed to surpass. No, he was looking for answers, technological and scientific wonders yet to be uncovered from the civilizations which once called this graveyard system their home. beneath all the durasteel and threaded carbonite, beneath all the cold stillness of the artificial planet, there had to still be some things which surpassed the limitations of even this day. just like how the Gree or the Rakatans had managed to reach technological heights not yet reached by the modern sciences, so too had the people of this system reached a technological golden age beyond anything even the N&Z or Sasori could fathom, it was because there could still be something within this place to expand his own extensive knowledge of things, that the monstrous Lord of Hunger slowly approached the artificial planet, though he was cautious...for there were still many dangers and the knowledge of this place, despite the difficulty...could also attract rivals...​

"Bring the Gluttoneria around...check for local life signs, " The Lord of Hunger calmly ordered, his hand waving into the air as if to further motion the men on the bridge to complete his orders flawlessly. "Have the sceleratii prepare themselves, we need to be dropping the pods when we reach the south side of the planet...our goal is the necropolis..."

 

[Rynar Solde]

Freelance Archivist | Mandalorian Descendant
Location: Iokath, Southern Hemisphere — The Necropolis Approach

The descent was silent save for the hum of the atmospheric seals stabilizing around him. Iokath's surface stretched below — a labyrinth of dead machinery and stone, scarred by centuries of neglect and war. From orbit it looked lifeless; down here, it breathed with the faint hum of forgotten systems.

Rynar moved with measured pace through the skeletal remains of what had once been a city. His armor was muted in tone, its surface scored and dulled to blend with the metal sands. A soft ping from his wrist scanner drew his attention toward a slope leading into the ruins — intermittent power signatures, faint but persistent. Deep, old… and active.

He crouched beside a half-buried statue of some long-dead figure, brushing away a layer of grime to reveal the ancient alloy beneath. "Still holding shape after all this time," he murmured, voice filtered through his helmet. "Whoever built this… they didn't fear eternity."

His hand hovered over the surface, tracing the faintly glowing glyphs still pulsing under the metal's crust. Data encrypted in languages that had no record in any archive he'd ever broken into. That's something new, he thought, eyes narrowing. The kind of find worth crawling through hell for.

Rynar keyed a brief message to his log transmitter, knowing the odds of it reaching orbit were slim.

"Solde, field record 3117. Surface entry confirmed. Preliminary readings indicate functioning systems below ground level. Possible access to necropolis archives—proceeding with caution."
He looked to the horizon. The air shimmered as distant dust storms rose, and through them came a glint — something massive descending from orbit. Too controlled to be debris, too deliberate to be coincidence.

He muttered under his breath, tone almost wary amusement. "Didn't think I'd have company on a grave world."

Adjusting his rifle to his shoulder, Rynar started down into the dark chasm that led toward the necropolis. His steps were silent, precise. Whatever else had come to Iokath, he'd find the truth first… or die with it buried beside him.

The Lord of Hunger

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Iokath
OBJECTIVE: To uncover and claim old tech from the remains of the old civilizations
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: @Open

//: CHECKING LIFESIGNS...
//: LIFESIGN DETECTED...

Still suspended from his personal Ommin Harness, the Lord of Hunger jerked his neck, his cloak moving around swiftly as the harness swayed in order to follow the desired movement of the abomination within the force. A withered, torn up hand slowly arose from underneath the thick cloak, motioning towards a large holographic display within the confines of the bridge. "Show me..."

//: ENHANCING SIGNAL...
//: MINOR INTERFERENCE DETECTED...

"Enahnce the signal, tear through this interference KRONOS," The hollow voice rang through the bridge, unnerving the men and women dressed in military garb and sitting at the consoles which kept the massive Gluttoneria on its steady descent. With another sharp movement, the Ommin harness lowered itself, allowing the cloaked being to look straight into the holographic image shown on the console. "A single lifesign...on a world filled to the brim with ancient tech...guess we have ourselves another opportunist to contend with."

Knowing he could not act personally just yet, the Lord of Hunger slowly moved his withered hands towards the touchscreens at the sides of the holographic display console, rapidly tapping the screens and going through several schematics, until he finally turned around, still suspended by the Ommin Harness. vibrant golden and crimson orbs peered down at the men and women on the bridge, a chuckle escaped his lips. "Send down an Urban enforcement Cohort...have them sweep the place."

Within several minutes, pods were launched from the massive ship, swirling through the artificial planet's atmosphere and crashing down upon the charred and marred surface of Iokath, with loud hissing noises, these pods started to unveil their payload, as two dozen humanoid droids left the pods and formed up, following their order to find the lifesign detected by KRONOS...


Rynar Solde​

 

[Rynar Solde]

Freelance Archivist | Mandalorian Descendant
Location: Iokath — Necropolis Perimeter

The scanner on his wrist flickered once, then again—its display distorting into a haze of static.
"Interference?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes beneath the visor. Iokath's electromagnetic field was volatile, sure—but this wasn't natural noise. It was clean. Patterned. Artificial.

Rynar rose from his crouch beside a broken obelisk and turned his visor toward the sky. The clouds rippled faintly, like the surface of water under bombardment. Then came the faintest tremor—a soundless thud felt more than heard.
Pods.

He dropped to a knee, cloak drawing around him as a plume of dust erupted kilometers away. Several impacts, close formation. Coordinated descent. Whoever they were, they had resources and precision—two things you didn't waste on scavengers.

"Looks like I'm not the only one digging for ghosts," he breathed, pulling his rifle free from its sling. The weapon hummed softly as its targeting reticle flicked to life across his HUD.

Through the haze, he saw movement. Metallic, disciplined. Not organics—machine gait. Enforcers of some kind, humanoid droids spreading in formation across the ruins. They moved efficiently, their search grid tightening by the minute.

Rynar switched to passive mode, silencing his armor's servos and reducing his energy signature to a near-dead hum. He began to move—slow, deliberate, ghosting between the shattered ribs of collapsed towers. The Necropolis entrance wasn't far, and if he could reach it before they triangulated his position, he might still disappear beneath the surface before they even realized they'd lost him.

But as he passed through a narrow gap of stone and metal, a whisper crossed the Force like a ripple through dark water. Cold. Vast. Ancient. It wasn't directed at him, but it was aware nonetheless—like something had turned its gaze upon the surface world from far above.

Rynar froze, gloved fingers tightening around his rifle. "That's… new."


He gave the horizon one last look, watching the droids fan out, golden optics flaring as they began to sweep the valley. Then he slipped into the fissure, the light swallowing him whole as he descended toward the depths of Iokath's necropolis—alone, silent, and more certain than ever that he'd stumbled into something far greater than a simple dig.

[OOC note: if you read his bio, for this cupcake is with a close friend of his for this thread]

The Lord of Hunger

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Iokath
OBJECTIVE: To uncover and claim old tech from the remains of the old civilizations
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: @Open

As soon as the Arbalesk droids exited their pods, they began to fan out, maintaining a grid-like pattern as they moved along, their metallic boots clanking on the corroded ground, red lenses peering into the dimness of the air, searching for the allocated lifesign within the quadrant they'd been assigned to. For a moment, several of the droids turned their head, seemingly having caught a glimpse of something moving, but as their scans and sensors didn't raise any alarm, they continued their search. With unseen precision and undeniable efficiency, the Arbalesk enforcer droids halted their search when they had reached the outer limits of the perimeter they had been focused on, sending the information back to the Gluttoneria which slowly began to rise into the atmosphere again, trying to maintain an equal distance from the artificial planet in order to avoid any mishaps.

As the information reached the ship, the monstrous being suspended from the Ommin harness muttered a few curses under his breath, knowing fully well that if the droids didn't find anything, it wasn't that they had made a mistake, but that whatever lifesign had been detected, had most likely belonged to a sentient being and thus someone who could effectively outsmart droids of this caliber. "Seems like there might be someone actually trying to find some stuff for themselves... I can not risk having to compete with someone for the knowledge this place may still hold within its vast core."

Letting out a sigh, the cloaked being motioned with their hands, the harness moving a bit, when other metallic and mechanic arms and contraptions sprouted from the ceiling of the bridge, slowly and meticulously attaching pieces of metal armor to the being's feet, legs and lower half. "Have the enforcement droids fan out, find me an entrance to the lower layers of Iokath...every possible crack and crevice needs to be secured and investigated..."

As such, the orders were relayed and the droids began to fan out once more, checking every crack and crevice within the surface, aiming to find a possible entry to the lower layers and with that, the very necropolis which their master was looking for...


Rynar Solde​

 

[Rynar Solde]

Freelance Archivist | Mandalorian Descendant
Location: Iokath — Necropolis Outer Rim

The echo of metallic footsteps faded above him, rhythmic and mechanical, too precise to mistake for life. From where he crouched in the shadow of a collapsed corridor, Rynar could still hear the faint reverberation of servos shifting through the ruins.

He exhaled slowly through his noseplate, adjusting his scanner once more. The screen displayed nothing but interference—a digital snowstorm. Whoever had sent those droids had reach. And patience.

Alright, Solde… think.

He traced a gloved hand along the wall beside him. The alloy was fused and warped, ancient power conduits running like veins through the stone. The deeper he went, the more the readings spiked. Power was still flowing down here.

He hesitated, then keyed his comm to a broad, open frequency. It was a stupid idea—broadcasting anything on Iokath was asking for attention—but isolation had its limits.

"Unknown signal in orbit," he said, tone casual but layered with that dry, sardonic humor only born of long solitude. "If you're hearing this, congratulations. You're officially the second-most lost soul on this planet."

Static hissed back for a moment. He chuckled softly under his breath. "And here I thought I'd finally made a friend."

He leaned back against the wall, eyes flicking toward the pale glow of his visor display.

"Name's Rynar Solde. Independent archivist, mostly harmless—unless you're planning to melt the place down. In which case, we'll have words."
He kept the channel open for a few more seconds, listening. Nothing.

Above, faint booms echoed—more pods landing. The droids were expanding their grid, sealing off escape routes. He glanced toward a nearby tunnel, half-collapsed but wide enough to squeeze through.

"Right," he muttered, slinging his rifle across his back. "Guess I'll go introduce myself before they decide I'm worth disassembling."


With a final look at the silent comm, Rynar moved deeper into the necropolis, the glow from his helmet cutting narrow lines through the dust-choked dark.

The Lord of Hunger

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Iokath
OBJECTIVE: To uncover and claim old tech from the remains of the old civilizations
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Rynar Solde

Slowly, methodical like handmaidens, the metallic arms sprouting from the ceiling of the bridge began to put each piece of the being's armor into place, as if to venerate the monster underneath the gleaming metal with soft, yet unfeeling caresses and fleeting whispers of touch, a show of sorts which the crew on the bridge seemed to be used to, though for some reason, they too seemed to be mesmerized by the occurance, only to turn their heads back to their immediate work when finally, the final piece would be connected in the form of the cloak being latched onto the being's shoulderpauldrons, draping down his back and splayed across the gleaming black floor.

As the ommin harness lowered itself, hisses and metallic clicking could be heard, followed by what seemed to sound somewhat like a sharp, shocked inhale, practically a wheeze followed by the draining of tubes and vials, the burbling of liquid, before a satisfyied, yet hollow exhale could be heard from within the armor. Sharp, electrum-tipped fingers rattled atop the control panel of the holographic display at the center of the bridge, vibrant crimson and gold eyes peering from beyond the holes within an electrum and auridium-etched and detailed mask.
​

"If you're hearing this, congratulations. You're officially the second-most lost soul on this planet."

Nails dug into plasteel, wires shuddered and crackled, sparks whisking into the air. A deep, almost feral growl could be heared rumbling beyond the mask. The display pinged the location, KRONOS had found the origin of the ping...crudely and rudely right underneath the feet of the Arbalesk he had sent down. Whomever had been at the other end...was not shying away from provocation.​

"Name's Rynar Solde. Independent archivist, mostly harmless—unless you're planning to melt the place down. In which case, we'll have words."

Turning to the crew, the monstrous being made it clear they had to search all the databases they had access to in order to verify this person's name, age, occupation. He wanted safety, security, certainty. yet then, this armored, old and abominable being walked over to the center of the bridge, moving his hand forward, as a black fog seemed to slowly coalesce around it, swirling and crackling with energy. "Locate that ping again, open up a communication line... force it if you have to."

The crew nodded, working feverishly, until one of them raised their hand, followed by static being heard through the comms, before suddenly silence, the silence in fact indicating they had picked up the same line on which the earlier message had been sent and received.

"Rynar Solde... Do tell me... what do you know about Iokath?"


​

 

[Rynar Solde]

Location: Iokath — Necropolis Descent Tunnel

For a moment, only the soft crackle of static filled the comm. Then a voice bled through — hollow, cavernous, thrumming like something dragged from beneath the crust of a dying star.

"Rynar Solde... Do tell me... what do you know about Iokath?"
Rynar stopped mid-step. The tunnel around him was silent, save for the distant whine of ancient power conduits waking under phantom currents. He angled his visor toward the ceiling, as though the voice were perched somewhere above him.

"Well," he said, voice low, dry, and painfully honest, "that depends on how disappointed you're prepared to be."

He leaned one shoulder against the curved metal wall, exhaling softly through his helmet.

"I know nothing about Iokath. Not its builders, not its culture, not its wars. Didn't even know the place existed until a few days ago."
He reached into a satchel at his hip, pulling free a dust-caked holomap projector the size of a fist. It flickered weakly when activated.

"Found an old holomap buried in a ruin on Fesdra IV. Half the data was corrupted. The only thing it showed clearly was this system. Figured anything old enough to be forgotten twice was worth taking a look at."

He shut off the projector and tucked it away, fingers drumming lightly on the casing of his rifle.
"As for meeting?" He paused, weighing the next words carefully. He wasn't reckless — and he wasn't suicidal.

"I'll come topside. Willingly. No games, no running."
A faint, almost amused breath left him.
"But only if you can guarantee I won't get perforated the second I stick my helmet out of this hole."

He pushed away from the wall and started walking again, boots quiet against the ancient flooring.

"I'm here for knowledge, not a firefight. You give your word, I'll meet face-to-face."


He clicked the comm once more.
"And if you're feeling charitable, maybe tell your droids to stop combing the entire planet for cracks. Makes me feel like a womp rat in a trap."

The Lord of Hunger

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Iokath
OBJECTIVE: To uncover and claim old tech from the remains of the old civilizations
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Rynar Solde
​

"Found an old holomap buried in a ruin on Fesdra IV. Half the data was corrupted. The only thing it showed clearly was this system. Figured anything old enough to be forgotten twice was worth taking a look at."

"That is...interesting," The voice over the commlink was rough, raspy, yet quite deep and domineering at the same time. it was the voice of one who had lived longer than most, but had also paid the toll for such a poisoned blessing. Still, a hint of amusement, curiosity and interest could be heard after those words were transmitted through the line of communication. "If what you seek is trinkets or treasure... perhaps you may find what you seek, all I seek is knowledge...perhaps it is all one and the same, perhaps it is different... Iokath will offer her bounty one way or another."
​

"I'm here for knowledge, not a firefight. You give your word, I'll meet face-to-face."

"Ah, so you are perhaps better than most people, smarter perhaps...after all, what is the true treasure of history, if not for the knowledge and answers it may have preserved to us and our current conundrums," Eloquent words, smooth and silky despite the raspy, hollow voice. these things betrayed the monster's background, its nature and its background, an intelligence granted only to the educated, the understanding...the curious folk within the galaxy. "You have my word...none of the Arbalesk will hurt you if you show yourself...as long as no hostility would be detected from your end that is."

A mere whisper over the comms could be heard, yet a command was made, an order issued, as the sounds above ground changed, with the arbalesk forming a circle, standing still, while holding their rifles upright.

"Tell me...what kind of knowledge do you seek?"

​

 

[Rynar Solde]

Location: Iokath — Necropolis Depths

Rynar exhaled slowly, letting the faint hum of ancient conduits settle around him. The Arbalesk had frozen. The silence of the droids felt like a mirror to the quiet patience he carried in his own bones.

"Agreed," he said, voice steady. "No hostility, no tricks."

He tapped a few coordinates into his wrist comm and transmitted them over the open channel. A pale blue dot blinked steadily on the interface.

"I am here," he said simply. "Beneath the ruins, where the Necropolis swallows the light and the dust whispers of the past."

He paused, letting the words linger, then continued with a soft, reflective tone:

"The knowledge I seek… it is not metal or gems, not weapons forged beyond reckoning. It is the stories the walls still remember, the echoes of minds that touched perfection and fell. The architectures of thought, the secrets of motion and life, the wisdom left in circuits and alloy alike. I follow the paths this world will willingly show me, and perhaps… together, we may trace the lines that have been lost for centuries, reaching farther than either of us could alone."

He adjusted the strap of his rifle and let his words fade into silence, leaving only the low hum of the Necropolis around him.

"If we share purpose, perhaps what is hidden will reveal itself willingly. And perhaps, in this union of curiosity, both our goals may yet be fulfilled."


Rynar's visor flickered, reflecting the faint glow of power conduits ahead, and he waited, ready to move at the first signal from the being above.

The Lord of Hunger