Fear

[Darth Abyss]

Tython, abandoned Je'daii Ruins.

Tython was living history, at least to those individuals gifted with a connection to the echoes of the past, those who just had to listen if they wanted to learn of the history that had happened there. The world had been the theater where the enteral conflict between light and dark, ashla and bogan found its beginning, in times so ancient that they timeframe dwarfed the history of sith and jedi alike.

It saddened him that the planet was now in control of the silver jedi, but while the jedi were quite fearful of the knowledge that surpassed their narrow view of the force, they rarely took the steps to take it away from the world forever. The ruins around Darth Abyss, a man of many titles, still whispered dark tales and faded memories of the first to follow the dark, and a hint of the former power still lingered between the cold, dead stone.

Normally he would have been cautious on a world ruled by his enemies, but the ruins where neither close to the jedi temple nor did they bear any importance to someone who wasn't a historian and lorekeeper like Abyss. The greatest danger he could imagine crossing his path here was a lost padawan, send out on a mission to find him or herself by facing what was left of the jedis greatest defeat. Many would argue that the light won that day, but their victory came with a price. Because they were to weak to do what would been necessary, they only banished those who fell to the dark, and those, over time, became who were now the enteral enemies of the order, the sith.

He looked like a demonic figure, his black robe ragged and old, his face hidden behind the strange wooden mask he found so many years ago. The cybernetics that replaced his right leg had a very slight red glow, but his eyes were filled by a bright yellow that pierced through the darkness of the night. Each step was absolute silent, furthering the image of an otherworldly entity haunting this place. His pale, boney fingers drifted over the stones around him, devouring the memories that surrounded them.

[member="Falius Imagun"] [member="Jost Garr"] [member="Kirill"]

 

[Jost Garr]

Tython Temple.

The temple seemed to be bustling with activity. One could find a Jedi in any direction they looked. The Silver Jedi controlled planet was a popular destination, given its ancient history. It was here that the never-ending feud of light and dark began. Due to this, the Jedi held this world close. Teams of excavators and archaeologists were always out and about, searching ruins and caves for new information on an age old conflict. Today, Jost was partaking in one of those adventures. He was no archaeologist or anything close, but he had received a request to attend. Jost was not one to turn down a chance to experience something new, so he had no choice but to board the ship. He had come from Rhen Var, station of the Silver Watch and his home for the unforeseeable future. However, the young Togruta had not really spent too much time at "home" since he had moved in. Ever since he left Voss he seemed to be going out on missions left and right.

But now Jost stood in a short line, awaiting his orders for the day. The queue moved forward, and so did he. He held much patience, and the line made no bother. Eventually, he stood in front of the Jedi Master. She had only given him one quick glance before averting her gaze back down to her datapad, "You'll be sent to some abandoned Jedi ruins, Padawan. There'll be others with you. You can wait for them or leave now." She showed him the location and ushered him along, eager to finish her duties for the day. Jost pondered for a moment whether he would choose to wait for the others, or simply move on to the ruins. Soon enough, the Padawan made his choice and began to head for the ruins alone.

The journey to these specific ruins was not necessarily a short one, but Jost paid it no mind. It was quiet, and gave him time to think. He thought mostly of his post back on Rhen Var, and hoped him going on these missions was not too disruptive for the rest of his fellows there. He also thought back to his time on Voss, back when he hadn't gone on a single mission, a completely inexperienced youngling. He knew, however, that he still held very little experience, especially in comparison to others. Now, Jost stood in front of the ruins. He thought for a moment on entering alone, but he knew not of what was inside. While it was more than likely either nothing or nothing dangerous, he decided to wait for the others that were to accompany him on this trip.

[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Falius Imagun"] [member="Kirill"]

 

[Ryan]

"Zis place rrreeks!" The catharian padawan growled with a uneasy tone to his voice. He stepped out into plane view of the approaching padawan from the silver order. Jedi were Jedi, it mattered little to what faction or governing body they called host. They were sent here to investigate the ruins, but that was as much detail as the masters had given them. Such were their ways, always full of riddles and lack of information for their pupils. Some days it was maddening and probably that was the point of it all. Even back home, Master Torvo, was guilty of such.

Kirill gazed upon the Togruta with his large predatory yellow hues. He took interest in the elongated montrals that were signature to the togruta race before refocusing back on the green eyes of Jost. "rrruins rrradiate forrrce, darrrk and light. Makes it harrrd to fokus and brrring barrre on anything living!" The cathar's rich accent and low resonating voice filled the air between the two. Kirill had tried his best from where he was position to survey the ruins at a distance, but it was just mangled static and even his natural sense of smell was beguiled by multiple traffic of multiple species, most he was not accustom to for this was his first trip to Tython.

He was not one for clothing, he found the padawan rabes to be more hindering then they were of use. Kirill was above average height, with a athletic muscular build and heavily corded neck and powerful limbs. His loin cloth covered his privates, exposing the rest of his orange and yellow furred body to the elements. There were many scars visible that littered the surface of his skin, testament of violent trials of the past. His two sabers were secured to the rope that held his Loin cloth up and from disappearing in the wind. Kirill's long charcoal mane was unkept accept for the one braid that signified he was a padawan in the Jedi Order.

"I Kirrrill of New Jedi Orrrder. I bet yourrr master has given you just as much inforrrmation as I got frrrom mine!"

[member="Jost Garr"] [member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss felt the presences right before the ruins, slight glimpses of light that were not completely drowned out by the dark of this place. Clearly they belonged to no one who was equal to him, padawans or something similar, lacking the aura of power that surrounded the strongest of the jedi order. He hadn't come here to slaughter the orders youth, but if a opportunity presented itself in such away, he couldn't pass up on it. In his early years as a sith acolyte he had been pushed, dragged and crippled into fighting impossible duels, against knight, even against masters. Looking back on them, he knew now that they had forged him into what he was, but they still left a mark in his mind, a hatred for those situations he couldn't win, and a desire to switch places for once.

FIghting young jedi wasn't really a challenge, but as he remembered his young years clearly, he knew that underestimating the ambitious and often fairly creative beginners of the force was a mistake. He could go face them directly now, blasting lightning and swinging his saber like a mad man, but such a display of power had no place in his combat philosophy. Rather he would use his powers to create fear, to truly haunt them like a ghost of the dark side, either leaving them death or severly mentally scarred.

Using the force to render his body borderline invisible he slowly moved towards the entrance of the ruins, banging the metal hilt of his blade against the walls every once in a while, creating a low pitched ring every time the metal meet the old stones. At the same time he used the force to expand his aura, creating a fog of fear that followed him. With his focus on his cloaking, it wasn't the waves of crippling fear he normally summoned in the minds of his enemies, but instead a subtle sense of danger and death, that lingered in in the ruins, almost blending in with the darkness that lived in the ancient rubble.

[member="Kirill"] [member="Jost Garr"] [member="Falius Imagun"]

 

[Falius Imagun]

Falius was coming down fast, and he didn't know how to fly. He had paid a smuggler to ferry him from Christophsis to Tython, seeking to discuss with those at the temple. Being a solo padawan was not easy. Yet when they had come out of hyperspace to late thanks to the ineptness of the pilot, the smuggler took the only escape pod the rust bucket had. Now he was barreling to the surface and no idea how to save himself. The ship was quickly gaining speed, as it burned through the atmosphere the ship came at slanted angle, Falius doing all he could with his pulling and pushing of the stick.

BOOM

The ship crashed to the edge of the ruins, luckily in some empty fields. A large trail was left of pieces of ship parts and dirt left behind in the crashed vessel's wake. Using Falius' lightsaber, he created a hole large enough to exit from. Apart from a few gashes and bruises, Falius was fine. He considered himself protected by the force, but not through his own manipulation. But subconciously, Falius believed the force had preserved him for some ulterior motive, one he would soon find out. His robes only slightly singed, Falius left the small freighter in it's unusable state, in search of others.

Falius called out with the loudest shout he could muster, "Hello! Is there anybody out there!?" The old padawan noticed ruins, ruins he recognized. Not in person obviously, but he was familiar from the lessons he had learned from his master during his times with the Order in the Republic. Without realizing, Falius muttered, "The Je'daii Temple ruins of Tython." Slowly, Falius scanned the entire area around him, noticing not one sentient being built structures or settlements other than the temple. "I guess the temple is my best shot at finding anyone." Falius remarked before heading into the ruins, unsure of what he was to find.

[member="Jost Garr"]
[member="Kirill"]
[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Jost Garr]

When Jost caught sight of the cathar, he gave him a smile. The man wasn't really wearing any clothes... But Jost made the executive decision to not comment or bring any attention to that. He had seen other, weirder, choices of attire. The cathar introduced himself as @Kirill. Jost gave a small bow before replying, "I am Jost Garr." Holding his smile, he then answered the question. "All I was told was the location of the ruins, and to expect other padawans."

Jost Garr was about to say another sentence, but he was interrupted by the sound of a ship crash landing in some nearby fields. "What in the..." Jost trailed off, staring in the direction of the wreck. "Kirill, should we investigate the crash? Or should we just continue into the ruins?" He didn't look at the catharian padawan when he spoke, he was too intrigued by the crash.

[member="Falius Imagun"] [member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Ryan]

The crash was unfortunate. The need to want to rush to the disaster zone and seek out survivors was overwhelming and his muscles tensed to make the run for the plumes of smoke. Yet, he was frozen in place. His acute hearing picked up the faint clanking coming from with in the ruins. The rhythmic pattern was not coincidental or naturally made by the elements for their were no winds at that moment in time. To the cathar, it felt as if the ruins called out to him, daring him to enter. Shivers ran up his spine and his fur was standing up on edge. Kirill had a very bad feeling about this.

Now, here is the dilemma of the situation. A craft had crashed nearby, with the possibility of needing assistance for survivors. There other side was their current task to investigate the ruins. Obviously there was something at play here and it knew that they jedi were there. Kirill looked over to the Togruta, knowing that there were plenty of options to be had here but a decision was needed to be made. "You go to crrrash site!" The cathar commanded, "I vill enterrr za rrruins and investigate!"

Splitting up may not be the best plan, but there were two priorities and two of them. Kirill was not going to volunteer the Togruta to march into the unknown and the dangers that possibly lay with in. Kirill was a warrior, a creature of honor and would rather risk his own life then the life of this young padawan he had just met.

He didn't really want to give Jost Carr time to rebuttal the decision. The lion stalked forward, his clawed hand resting upon the unlit saber on his right hip. He used breathing techniques to control his nerves, and moving meditation to broaden is awareness through the force and through natural senses. Into the darkness he ventured........

 

[Jost Garr]

Jost Garr nodded once to the Cathar before breaking off in a run in the direction of the destroyed ship. "I will meet with you inside the ruins, Kirill! Be safe!" The young Togruta shouted back at his feline companion. Jost controlled his breathing as he ran, a basic skill that helped save stamina. There were a handful of obstacles in between Jost Garr and the downed ship, but none were capable of stopping the padawan, and only slowed him slightly.

Hopping over one last fence, the smoldering wreck of a ship was now in plain view. Debris scattered the field, including a trail of bits and pieces, presumably from where it skidded against the field. Slowing his pace ever so slightly as he approached, Jost kept his wits about him as the vessel drew nearer. It was an old ship, and one with no markings. Perhaps a smuggler's. While Jost didn't place his hand on his lightsaber, he was ready to yank it from its place on his hip at any moment.

One could never know the temper of a smuggler or other vagrants on any given day. Today whoever was inside the ship could be friendly, grateful for the aid. The next, however, one might come out blasting. Due to the unfortunate reputation, Jost had to take precaution all the same. "Hello? Can anybody hear me?" The Togruta shouted as he paced around the ship, trying to see if anybody had crawled out. To his surprise, he found a hole cut from the hull. Slowly, Jost approached it. He kneeled down to investigate it further. It was a fresh cut, and one made with a lightsaber. Jost furrowed his brow and glanced at the ruins facing his back. A survivor in possession of a lightsaber had made their way inside. There was no way Jost could know whether the occupant inside had been Jedi, Sith, or perhaps a rogue outlaw who had procured a lightsaber.

Jost spun around and started a jog to the ruins, entering in the same way the survivor had, with his saber in hand. He had no clue what he was going into.

[member="Kirill"] [member="Falius Imagun"] [member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

A bodiless voice echoed through the ancient ruins, jumping from left to right from time to time, making it more or less impossible to tell where its source was. The sound was cold, apathetic even, and lacked any audible clues of indication or emotion behind it. While he spoke, Abyss wandered through the corridors, soundless besides his voice, and guarded by the fore from any light touching his body. He was only a small bit more than a ghost right now.

"Who disturbed our rest? Only those with true darkness in their heart are allowed to wandered the remnants of our order."

Again he pushed his saber against the walls, the ring coming from their right. Due to his connection to temples and relics it was easy for Abyss to make out who the corridors were created, and which paths he had to take to stay away from them as long as possible. He seeked to pull them as deep into the ruins as possible, so he could bring judgment right in the heart of darkness.


This time the ring came from their left, and from a further distance. His presence was obscured enough to blend in with the ruins, so only if one of them had a high aptitude for the ability to sense others gifted with the force would be able to tell that he was in fact not a ghost but a sith lord, one that enjoyed toying with his prey before he would strike.

[member="Jost Garr"] [member="Kirill"] [member="Falius Imagun"]