Arena SITH DATA-CRYSTAL: LOCATION ▒▒▒▒▒ ▒

[Avarice]

The transmission did not reach all Sith. It was seeded selectively, sent only to those deemed worthy of the puzzle… or dangerous enough to be tested.
A hidden location is embedded within the data-crystal. State your character's guessed destination in your reply prior to arrival. Those who discern correctly may proceed. Those who do not may face the narrative outcome of their error. Only ic cheating allowed!!!

I have served both blade and Light,
Yet bow to neither within their sight;
A quiet forest moon I seem,
Where ancient trees outlive a dream…

A crimson giant crowns my skies,
Where ancient masters silent lie;
In horned-built halls of ancient stone,
Where rebels once unmade a throne…

There rests a sanctum where we'll devise,
Attend us… if you are wise.

I have served both blade and Light,
Yet bow to neither within their sight;
A quiet forest moon I seem,
Where ancient trees outlive a dream…

A crimson giant crowns my skies,
Where ancient masters silent lie;
In horned-built halls of ancient stone,
Where rebels once unmade a throne…

There rests a sanctum where we'll devise,
Attend us… if you are wise.​

[Aurabesh Font]​

 

[Teev]

| Location | Yavin IV​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

Resting atop a ruined temple sat a lone Jawa, face obscured in shadows cast by their large cap with a gnarled stick resting at their side. All was peaceful and quiet, save for the sounds of the forest surrounding the moss-encrusted stone that once served as a hidden base; now it was just an abandoned and forgotten relic of the past. ​

​

The peace and quiet was interrupted by the quiet, muffled chirping of a device in Teev's coat, the Jawa glancing down, <"Foo?"> it said inquisitively as they reached inside and pulled out a small communicator. ​

​

A message; one coded in riddle. The small Jawa cocked their head to the side as it listened and stared down at the device. Teev stared up at the red gas giant in the sky, then back down at the communicator, then back up and then back down, then looked around at the surrounding area around them. ​

​

Perhaps they were in the completely wrong place. Or was it by pure chance that they happened to be in the right place or perhaps was it all by design? ​

​

[Open]

​

 

[Oz Neru]

One Week Prior…

Flanked by pyke enforcers from behind, Oz stood over their falleen prisoner. Glaring down at them with fiery eyes that contrast his cool blue skin he had an amused smirk. He looked back towards the pykes and asked, “So, this is the one you wish to learn from?” One of them only gave a simple nod in reply.

Turning his attention back down to the falleen Oz stepped closer before kneeling down. His hand snapped down and harshly grabbed the falleen’s rough head, their green skin taking on a more reddish hue as they lost their composure here. “I… I won’t tell you a thing, to any of you.”

Oz briefly chuckled behind closed lips before commenting. “Don’t worry, any duties or vows of silence you’ve made will be maintained and upheld. I don’t need you to speak…” He placed both his hands on either side of their head firmly before forcing their gaze to meet his own before plunging into the falleen’s memories.

Once he was done Oz let go of their head, causing the falleen to collapse back, frothing and twitching suddenly from the pantorians' mental violations. Standing back up he looked back to the pykes who have both began to tense up, unsure of what the Sith helping them just did.

“What your employer is looking for is on Nar Shaddaa, I can share the address with you. But first…” He paused before stepping past them and out of the room. “I want this ‘sith’ message you’ve intercepted first."

Present…

Oz did not find the playful riddle too hard to solve. He thought that the answer was obvious and that only a dimwit could fail at understanding it. Sadly there was no shortage of fools within the galaxy.

Now he stood among the many ancient trees of the first moon, Endor…​

 

[Avarice]

One Week Prior…

Flanked by pyke enforcers from behind, Oz stood over their falleen prisoner. Glaring down at them with fiery eyes that contrast his cool blue skin he had an amused smirk. He looked back towards the pykes and asked, “So, this is the one you wish to learn from?” One of them only gave a simple nod in reply.

Turning his attention back down to the falleen Oz stepped closer before kneeling down. His hand snapped down and harshly grabbed the falleen’s rough head, their green skin taking on a more reddish hue as they lost their composure here. “I… I won’t tell you a thing, to any of you.”

Oz briefly chuckled behind closed lips before commenting. “Don’t worry, any duties or vows of silence you’ve made will be maintained and upheld. I don’t need you to speak…” He placed both his hands on either side of their head firmly before forcing their gaze to meet his own before plunging into the falleen’s memories.

Once he was done Oz let go of their head, causing the falleen to collapse back, frothing and twitching suddenly from the pantorians' mental violations. Standing back up he looked back to the pykes who have both began to tense up, unsure of what the Sith helping them just did.

“What your employer is looking for is on Nar Shaddaa, I can share the address with you. But first…” He paused before stepping past them and out of the room. “I want this ‘sith’ message you’ve intercepted first."

Present…

Oz did not find the playful riddle too hard to solve. He thought that the answer was obvious and that only a dimwit could fail at understanding it. Sadly there was no shortage of fools within the galaxy.

Now he stood among the many ancient trees of the first moon, Endor…​

Beneath the swollen red gaze of Endor’s gas giant, Oz found no sanctum waiting in solemn stone. Only trees that stood tall, towering and, tangled, but triumphantly... ordinary. Their roots knotted through moss and memoryless soil. The Force here did not gather; it meandered. It hummed with harmless life and leaf-littered quietude. Whatever puzzle had been set… this was not its prize.

He felt them before he saw them: a scatter of small presences, bright and busy as sparks in the void. Then the underbrush shifted. Round eyes gleamed. Spears of carved wood wobbled with earnest authority. A ring of furred forest-folk emerged in cautious choreography, whispering in indignant little bursts. One stepped forward with ceremonial seriousness entirely betrayed by its stature, thumping a spear butt into the dirt as if to declare jurisdiction over blue interloper.

There would be no sanctum here of secrecy; only suspicion, snares, and the slow realization that he had answered half a riddle and arrived at failure.

Oz Neru

 

[Avarice]

| Location | Yavin IV​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

Resting atop a ruined temple sat a lone Jawa, face obscured in shadows cast by their large cap with a gnarled stick resting at their side. All was peaceful and quiet, save for the sounds of the forest surrounding the moss-encrusted stone that once served as a hidden base; now it was just an abandoned and forgotten relic of the past. ​

​

The peace and quiet was interrupted by the quiet, muffled chirping of a device in Teev's coat, the Jawa glancing down, <"Foo?"> it said inquisitively as they reached inside and pulled out a small communicator. ​

​

A message; one coded in riddle. The small Jawa cocked their head to the side as it listened and stared down at the device. Teev stared up at the red gas giant in the sky, then back down at the communicator, then back up and then back down, then looked around at the surrounding area around them. ​

​

Perhaps they were in the completely wrong place. Or was it by pure chance that they happened to be in the right place or perhaps was it all by design? ​

​

[Open]

​

Beneath the burning eye of Yavin Prime, the Massassi temple rose in jagged tiers from the jungle’s grasp, horned buttresses and weather-worn stone thrust skyward in defiance of the thixk forest canopies. Centuries had softened its carvings into blurred sigils, yet the structure endured with a severe patience. Vines draped its flanks in heavy curtains and moss mapped its ledges in muted green.

At the primary stair, abandonment thinned to pretense. Dust lay thick across the basalt steps like that of a pale fine powder. A narrow corridor had been disturbed near the threshold: heel-set impressions, measured and recent, their edges not yet claimed by settling grit. Along the jamb, a faint smear marked where fingers had traced the seam of the stone; cobwebs hung unevenly, one strand snapped, another sagging as though brushed by a cloak’s passing hem. Even the moss bore a shallow scuff, its velvet nap pressed flat in a careful arc.

Within the entry hall, the air carried dust motes that drifted in the red-filtered light, unsettled and slow to descend. A thin ribbon of soot darkened a wall niche where a torch or portable lamp had burned briefly; the scent lingered...it had been recent.

Teev

 

[Teev]

| Location | Yavin IV​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

The small Jawa pushed themselves off the ancient stone, small gloved hands dusting off their robes as they reached down to grab their gnarled staff, tapping the end of it against the stone a few times. The ancient bricks beneath their feet began to tremble as an unseen hand pried them from their resting place, a section of the temple lifting away with the Teev atop it, majestically waving their staff around like a graceful conductor as the section ferried them down to the lower parts of the temple. ​

​

"Foosh," they said as the ancient stone crumbled beneath their feet once they reached the entrance, a dismissive wave of their staff prompting the section they had been standing on to collapse onto the ground as the Jawa waddled off it. Seemingly endless eyes wandered along the exterior.​

​

The dimly lit entry prompted the most powerful entity to have graced the temple in centuries to raise their hand up to eye level. Sparks crackled to life as a ball of flame erupted from seemingly thin air, tendrils of flame snaking outward and snapping at anything flammable before being drawn back into Teev's hand, condensing into a brightly lit orb of light that swirled with the destructive power of the sun at their fingertips, casting its light and illuminating the way ahead. ​

​

Into the unknown the Jawa ventured, and in the unknown would the Jawa thrive.​

​

​

[ Avarice ]

​

 

[Avarice]

Oz Neru Teev
The chamber breathed in low crimson light, fed by veins of ancient circuitry half-buried in Massassi stone. Avarice stood at its center, with a silver glint turning slow between his fingers. It was a small device with a delicate mechanism, made from all swirling curves. At the soft scrape of small boots upon dust, his hands stilled.

He looked up allowing crimson eyes that settled upon the diminutive silhouette framed in flame-light.

This… was not what he had anticipated.

The riddle had filtered the bold, the brutal, the brilliant... and delivered instead a robed figure scarcely reaching his waist. Had he overestimated them? Or underestimated something else entirely? The silver bauble was set aside with deliberate care, placed upon an obsidian plinth etched in faded sigils. Avarice rose from his work, as curiosity coiled quietly behind his gaze.

"Welcome," he said lightly, the word drifting through the vaulted dark in invitation rather than a greeting. His eyes traced the glow cupped in the Jawa's hand, then returned to the shadowed face beneath the hood.

"You solved it... I seeded this to warlords, conquerors, architects of ruin… and yet.... you are all that has arrived. Either the great Sith found this beneath them… or they could not solve a simple riddle." He mused aloud before a smile appeared beneath the cloth lowered mask, " Which do you suppose it is? Tell me,little one… are you the cleverest of the Sith?"

 

[Teev]

| Location | Yavin IV​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

Teev proceeded into the depths, their flaming orb casting a monstrous shadow of themselves along the walls. It was not long before the Jawa found themself in a large chamber, their unwavering gaze falling upon the lone individual. A quick clenching of their fingers and the flaming orb fizzled out of existence, leaving the two to bask in the crimson glow of the chamber's natural light.​

​

The Jawa stepped forward, small steps shuffling with small steps as the individual spoke, the quiet clunk of their wooden staff echoing along the old stone. "Fooshee, foogooee," they said. Even amongst Jawas, it was an archaic and almost incomprehensible dialect. Teev stopped about two and a half Teev lengths away from the individual, their staff making a final clunk against the stone as they stood there, a gaze as infinite and burning as the stars in the sky.​

​

A true enigma.​

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[ Avarice ]

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