The Sith’ari
The dark side power that emanated from the tomb warped one’s perceptions of time; one could spend days walking through the depths of the Beskar structure, subsequent centuries of malevolent infusion dimpled the walls of the tomb so that it eventually became more pyramidal, yet asymmetrical, in appearance. Everything began to look so similar, it was easy to walk in circles. After millennia of exploitation, clearing, grave robbing and excavation, there were still passages being discovered and treasures awaiting those who would seek them out.
The Dark Lord of the Sith approached the long narrow bridge that led into the depths of the tomb, he approached the source of the nexus, the crux of power. There was a vergence deep in the heart of this bastion of evil, a source of power that sprang forth from the Dark Side itself. Amongst a menagerie of broken urns and pilfered storage for artifacts were the sarcophagi of the long dead royalty of Onderon’s insidious past: King Ommin and Queen Amanoa, and the source of the nexus, the Dark Lord of the Sith Freedon Nadd. Atop the mausoleum was a massive platformed statue of Freedon Nadd, and within were the Dark Lord's remains where the vile energy resonated outward.
The Elder had been here many times, it was a source of pilgrimage much like Fortress Vader for him, a place to reflect and delve deep into the past. Unlike the majority of his visits, he was alone, no apprentice or dark adept accompanying him. As he neared the threshold toward the main antechamber, midway across the bridge, he stopped. He felt his skin crawl as a ripple in the Force caught his attention, he knew not what it was but he sensed something. A shatterpoint perhaps? A presence?
