Sic transit gloria mundi
@[member="Fabula Cavataio"]
Korriban, homeworld of the Sith - though some called it Morriband it seemed - Tomb world, graveyard to Sith lords upon Sith lords. Nexus of evil. All these were shiny, somewhat dramatic names for this lifeless rock of a planet that had seen Emperors come and go. Like a gaping maw it had swallowed countless travellers, adventurers, would-be conquerors, all of whom had been drawn to the planet like moth to a flame, seeking riches, power, or perhaps just a good challenge.
A cluster of rocks stood amidst the sand dunes in the wasteland, immense statues of sandstones rising up high into the air. A fallen obelisk could be seen, arcane symbols engraved upon it, from an age long bygone when the ancient red Sith had reigned upon this planet, when their subjects had venerated them as gods given flesh. The orange glow of the sun shone down mercilessly upon the valley that seemed in the middle of nowhere, for one could venture endlessly through it and come across nothing but ruins, sand and dust, the skeletal remains of those who had come before and paid the price, along with monsters and beasts of all sort. The Jedi Crusade might have laid claim to this planet and driven out the Sith, but they could not banish the darkness even if they had wanted.
The faces of the Sith Lords of old were hard and unyielding, but they were just that, faces, which had over time fallen into decay and disrepair, having no power anymore. The howl of the wind could be heard, if one paid enough attention, if one was the sort of forcer who listened to the ripples instead of shouting and chucking rocks, one might hear the whispers of the ghosts bound to this place. Then again, it was quite likely that they would have nothing interesting to say beyond reciting their old glories like Ozymandias.
A transport penetrated through the atmosphere of the planet and touched down upon the valley, near the carcasse of a couple tu'kata and some mutilated bodies of soldiers from the invasion, forgotten and left behind, swallowed like most who came to the tomb world. Of course, the occupant of said transport had no intention of this happening to her, but then pride comes before the fall. The landing ramp of the vessel lowered with a hiss and Siobhan Kerrigan sauntered down, clad in ultrachrome stormtrooper armour that would surely appreciate some repairs, fully killed out in combat gear. Her trusty MK1 boltguns, unholy instruments of death and purgation were at her side, as was the lightsabre that seemed hungry for souls to reap and send forth upon a voyage into the dark realm of Illyria, dread mistress of hell who sat upon a throne made of the bones of the wicked.
She stretched slightly as she gazed upon the valley before her, long brown hair flipping back slightly in the breeze of the wind. The war might long be over, but then she had not come Sith and though she was the exact opposite of a bastion for common sense, she was not the sort to go on a quest for ancient artefacts with names like the 'Daemon's Heart' because there was no way that could go wrong. Then again ventures of that sort would require an amount of research for which she had neither the patience nor the knowledge.
Instead she was here to hunt. No matter how high she might rise, no matter how much she might enjoy the aristocratic decadence and luxury she enjoyed in Kaeshana, at heart Siobhan was a predator, in search of the biggest game, the most dangerous prey. That was why the Bando Gora had declared her a Chaos Goddess after she had torn their Cult apart. It was an intense craving she could not deny, like a fire that could not be quenched. Perhaps one day it would get her killed, but no matter. The Force flowed through her, becoming a bludgeon in her grasp. She walked across the sand-covered ground, past the burnt-out husk of a battle tank from this or that battle. It was time to go find a few big things and kill them.
That was one of her two ideas of what constituted tourism.
Korriban, homeworld of the Sith - though some called it Morriband it seemed - Tomb world, graveyard to Sith lords upon Sith lords. Nexus of evil. All these were shiny, somewhat dramatic names for this lifeless rock of a planet that had seen Emperors come and go. Like a gaping maw it had swallowed countless travellers, adventurers, would-be conquerors, all of whom had been drawn to the planet like moth to a flame, seeking riches, power, or perhaps just a good challenge.
A cluster of rocks stood amidst the sand dunes in the wasteland, immense statues of sandstones rising up high into the air. A fallen obelisk could be seen, arcane symbols engraved upon it, from an age long bygone when the ancient red Sith had reigned upon this planet, when their subjects had venerated them as gods given flesh. The orange glow of the sun shone down mercilessly upon the valley that seemed in the middle of nowhere, for one could venture endlessly through it and come across nothing but ruins, sand and dust, the skeletal remains of those who had come before and paid the price, along with monsters and beasts of all sort. The Jedi Crusade might have laid claim to this planet and driven out the Sith, but they could not banish the darkness even if they had wanted.
The faces of the Sith Lords of old were hard and unyielding, but they were just that, faces, which had over time fallen into decay and disrepair, having no power anymore. The howl of the wind could be heard, if one paid enough attention, if one was the sort of forcer who listened to the ripples instead of shouting and chucking rocks, one might hear the whispers of the ghosts bound to this place. Then again, it was quite likely that they would have nothing interesting to say beyond reciting their old glories like Ozymandias.
A transport penetrated through the atmosphere of the planet and touched down upon the valley, near the carcasse of a couple tu'kata and some mutilated bodies of soldiers from the invasion, forgotten and left behind, swallowed like most who came to the tomb world. Of course, the occupant of said transport had no intention of this happening to her, but then pride comes before the fall. The landing ramp of the vessel lowered with a hiss and Siobhan Kerrigan sauntered down, clad in ultrachrome stormtrooper armour that would surely appreciate some repairs, fully killed out in combat gear. Her trusty MK1 boltguns, unholy instruments of death and purgation were at her side, as was the lightsabre that seemed hungry for souls to reap and send forth upon a voyage into the dark realm of Illyria, dread mistress of hell who sat upon a throne made of the bones of the wicked.
She stretched slightly as she gazed upon the valley before her, long brown hair flipping back slightly in the breeze of the wind. The war might long be over, but then she had not come Sith and though she was the exact opposite of a bastion for common sense, she was not the sort to go on a quest for ancient artefacts with names like the 'Daemon's Heart' because there was no way that could go wrong. Then again ventures of that sort would require an amount of research for which she had neither the patience nor the knowledge.
Instead she was here to hunt. No matter how high she might rise, no matter how much she might enjoy the aristocratic decadence and luxury she enjoyed in Kaeshana, at heart Siobhan was a predator, in search of the biggest game, the most dangerous prey. That was why the Bando Gora had declared her a Chaos Goddess after she had torn their Cult apart. It was an intense craving she could not deny, like a fire that could not be quenched. Perhaps one day it would get her killed, but no matter. The Force flowed through her, becoming a bludgeon in her grasp. She walked across the sand-covered ground, past the burnt-out husk of a battle tank from this or that battle. It was time to go find a few big things and kill them.
That was one of her two ideas of what constituted tourism.