"Old Badness"

[Derriphan]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDs-dYP9RTA

Dantooine, Hills above the Cult Temple

As it turned out founding a cult was a rather pricey endeavor. At least that was the takeaway Derriphan took from the briefing with his current employer, some sort of underworld banker that apparently had lost a hefty amount of credits to a cult leader operating on Dantooine. His mission was simple, get in and retrieve some ancient amulet that according to his employer was worth a small fortune to negate his loses.

In the warm light of the slowly sinking sun of the world, Derriphan was laying on the ground while keeping watch on the distant temple through a pair of electronic binoculars. So far he hadn't seen anyone come in or out, and he faintly remembered a warning issued by the guy who gave him the job. He honestly didn't really listened to his ramblings. They were always the same, anyone always believed that their enemies were the most dangerous and powerful ones of all the galaxy. All he remembered was that they called themselves Old Badness or something along that line.

He had packed his entire little arsenal, but his plan so far was to get in and out without being seen. He didn't liked being silent, but he disliked being utterly outnumbered and killed even more. As any good solider he was slowly creeping towards his target, and his clothes were already fairly strained by dirt and mud. At least the ski mask that obscured his face had stayed clean so far. At this pace he would reach the entrance at nightfall, but by now he was wondering if it was even necessary to approach so slowly. For all he could tell the temple was empty anyway.

[member="Vereshin"]

 

[Vereshin]

From a hill overlooking a Primeval temple, a longing chant traveled from Vereshin's mouth as he paced back and forward carrying a pair of sticks. A brilliant sun disappeared behind the skyline and summoned the call of the evening. With his eyes closed, the dark mage sung the lyrics fluently, his light voice was carried on the breeze in a melodious echo. As he walked, he banged the sticks together to ward away any energies emitted from the temple which might interfere with his ritual. Stopping every so often to change to a new verse, he imbued the sticks with a spell which masked his presence from the cultists outside of the temple.

Little to Vereshin's knowledge, an unknown presence approached in his direction. Immersed in the spell he conjured, he had not seen the man walking up the hill to scout the premesis. The energy emitted from the temple shifted and he picked up a disturbance in the properties. Freezing in his stance, he peeled open one eye and turned his head towards the road which lead down the valley. To his horror, a stranger armed stood on the hill and looked through a pair of binoculars. Vereshin's singing dropped to a stutter, then ceased entirely. He had been seen.

"Go away! This is my spot!" Banging the sticks fervently, he hissed at the stranger and recoiled. His cheeks turned purple with embarrassment as he silently hoped that the man had not heard him singing. The man came closer and Vereshin involuntarily hammered the sticks together, before dropping them on the ground and backing away.

As he walked backwards, Vereshin had forgotten that he was standing on a hill and stumbled, falling clean on his backside in the process. He would have rolled over had he not grabbed the grass. Turning over, he crawled away on his hands and knees, using the mass of the hill to hide from the invasive eyes of the stranger. He sat with his back leaning against the hill and wrapped his arms around his knees, the black and white, horizontal stripes of his socks contrasting boldly with the grass. He pondered the other man's reason for being there and concluded that he had indeed, not come from inside the temple.

Standing upright, the dark mage brushed down his long, black coat and knee-length pants, then scrambled up the side of the hill. He emerged from the edge and walked towards the pile of sticks he had prepared earlier. "You didn't come from the temple, so who are you?" He asked as he stood in front of the sticks, the stranger standing only a few feet away. "Back, back, I need room." Waving his hands forward, he muttered incoherently as he ushered the man away. He leaned over and picked up the two sticks which he had dropped, then threw them on the pile.

[member="Derriphan"]