ʜᴄ sᴠɴᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏɴᴇs
Some people find the woods peaceful. We all know what peace is, though. The forests of Takodana are an endless blanket of temperate woodland, interrupted by the occasional trickling brook, or placid, green field. They are as consumed by the cycle of brief life and brutal death as any other place in a 'perfect' natural state, creatures eating, reproducing, dying, and being eaten in a variety of orders, species endemic to the planet and ones that had snuck into the wilds after being brought from other worlds. But something isn't normal.
Something terrible happened here. Can you tell what?
A lump of soil next to a scarred, limbless conifer a few miles in conceals a dull, worn helmet in the shape of a skull, surprisingly intact. Its battery pack long since spent, it no longer sends or receives signals, plays music, does anything. Like death, the death's head simply lurks, waiting to be called to use again. Perhaps it never will.
A ways off from that, a tangle of vines chokes the grass around it, weedy leaves blocking sunlight and drinking more than its share of water. If someone tore into this thicket of vegetation, the mud would yield up a set of bones, the flesh that clings to it turned the color and consistency of soft, green cheese. Two arms, cut cleanly at the shoulder. The ends are black ash. The mark of a lightsaber.
The whispers in the town say that people who stray too far from the path disappear. Not to go out into the woods. A superstitious lot of criminals, they kept to the city anyways. The green, rolling hills had always been a shroud to cover the ancient battlefields for the Jedi and the Sith, full of rumors of ghosts and relics. Treasure Hunters have waned in volume - not that everything had been picked clean. It's just something that happens when scavengers start turning up in pieces no larger than their thumb.
They say it's animals. Others say that the flat, round toothprints have to be of a humanoid. They all know which part of the woods are haunted. Only the foolish go to test their luck - and fools live cheap lives in this galaxy.
A darkness grows in the forests of Takodana. A darkness has been growing for a long time - and darkness calls out to darkness.
--
[member="Darth Eversor"]
Something terrible happened here. Can you tell what?
A lump of soil next to a scarred, limbless conifer a few miles in conceals a dull, worn helmet in the shape of a skull, surprisingly intact. Its battery pack long since spent, it no longer sends or receives signals, plays music, does anything. Like death, the death's head simply lurks, waiting to be called to use again. Perhaps it never will.
A ways off from that, a tangle of vines chokes the grass around it, weedy leaves blocking sunlight and drinking more than its share of water. If someone tore into this thicket of vegetation, the mud would yield up a set of bones, the flesh that clings to it turned the color and consistency of soft, green cheese. Two arms, cut cleanly at the shoulder. The ends are black ash. The mark of a lightsaber.
The whispers in the town say that people who stray too far from the path disappear. Not to go out into the woods. A superstitious lot of criminals, they kept to the city anyways. The green, rolling hills had always been a shroud to cover the ancient battlefields for the Jedi and the Sith, full of rumors of ghosts and relics. Treasure Hunters have waned in volume - not that everything had been picked clean. It's just something that happens when scavengers start turning up in pieces no larger than their thumb.
They say it's animals. Others say that the flat, round toothprints have to be of a humanoid. They all know which part of the woods are haunted. Only the foolish go to test their luck - and fools live cheap lives in this galaxy.
A darkness grows in the forests of Takodana. A darkness has been growing for a long time - and darkness calls out to darkness.
--
[member="Darth Eversor"]