ʜᴄ sᴠɴᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏɴᴇs
Kalee
The Kadok Regions
Dust rolled over the valley, carried by the wind, rustling through the scrub and brush. As Antherion put one foot in front of the other, slow, strained by the pain of supporting his own weight, he reflected on how the harsh environment was an alchemy all its own. Bend the Force to one's will, and one could easily take a base humanoid and sculpt them into a bloodthirsty reptile. Only over thousands of years, under the beating, oppressive heat of the blazing sun, however, could one create this perfect culture of honor and violence. Such was the artistry of nature - its favorite medium, blood. This was where an ally of his - Corin Zanith - had chosen to construct his temple to the Sith. An academy, where adepts would be trained, instructed in the ways of darkness, and then loosed on their enemies. Now? For the most part, it was empty. In the distance, Antherion could see cranes lifting materials for building walls, hear the noise of contract workers and mover droids. It was a work in progress. All things that would be ruin, must first be new.
No - Antherion was not here for the unfinished temple. He was here for another reason. In this valley was buried the first king of the Kaleesh people, the first warlord to unite a single planet under his iron fist. His tomb... that was what Antherion sought.
So, following a trail in the Force, Antherion continued walking, the sun bleaching the shadows out of all the places they could hide. Sweat beaded on his brow. He kept his eyes forwards, looking to the horizon for something - or someone.
| [member="Flinx Kalith"] |