Populate The Legend of Set and Veré | THR Populate of Quila & Farstine

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Naboo's ancient archives
Theed |Naboo
Dominique Vexx​

Sibylla's breath caught as Senator Dominique Vexx's voice startled her from her thoughts, the young teenager freezing but for a moment as if expecting a strike, but then recalled where she was.

She drew a breath, doing her best to compose her expression before turning to meet the Senator's gaze, all the while refusing to let the faint flush that touched her cheeks betray more than warmth from the archive lighting.

"Senator Vexx," she said smoothly, giving an incline of her head in greeting, that Royal House poise slipping easily back into place. "You caught me midthought."

The young Ambassador lifted the folio just slightly in a purposeful gesture rather than idle wandering.

"I've been reviewing the older accounts of the Set and Vere mythos," Sibylla explained quietly, mindful of how her voice could potentially echo within the archives.

"Some of the fragments from the new site along the Five Veils Route conflict with the traditional retellings. I thought… perhaps the old records might help trace where the story shifted. Or why."

She glanced down at the folio in her hands again, the edges worn soft beneath her fingers, then looked back up at Dominique, expression composed once again, her smile quiet but thoughtful.

"My mother has long insisted that Naboo's heart lies tucked within its stories. And if that heart is now shifting, I should very much like to know who dares shape it...and to what end. Especially if I am expected to walk the line where our strength must be drawn not solely from tradition… but from the willingness to adapt."

There was a pause, something unreadable flickering in her hazel eyes.

"At least… Vere tried."

 

[Voli Cholrass]

Current Outfit
Pre Built Lightsaber


Voli thought she died and went to heaven.

She was on a Sith planet filled with untapped power of the Dark Side. It was a mystery eager to be unraveled, Voli was surprised that she managed to get into the expedition. The Padawan could feel the Dark Side thrumming throughout the planet, the dark side was cold as if she was doused in the waters of Hoth. Voli could also feel anger, hate, aggression yet at the same time the Dark was enticing, intoxicating and it just made sense to Voli. In her studies of the Dark Side and the occult, there was nothing to fear. It was just a power nothing more and learning about the Dark Side is the key to unlocking the Holocron that was in Voli's possession since she was a baby.

Voli stared at Black Spiral, echoes of the inhabitants were heard whispering in her mind in a tongue that she did not understand. The more Voli trained as a Jedi, the more she was sensitive towards the whispers around her. It was fascinating to hear about the people who came before, hopefully whatever secrets the Black Spiral contained could help Voli not only unlock the Holocron, but also help her attain a greater understanding beyond what she was taught.

"Down the Rabbit hole I go." Voli thought a grin forming on her face. With vigor in her heart and thoughts dwelling on gathering knowledge, Voli took a step towards the entrance.

OPEN

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Brandyn Sal-Soren

She paused before a door that wasn't a door. It was a jagged wound in the fortress wall, framed by stone and warped with time and heat, and something older still. Her fingers hovered near it. Not to open, since a door that wasn't a door couldn't actually be opened so touching it would be a useless endeavour, but she wanted to feel. The structure breathed, barely perceptible, like it was sleeping beneath her touch.

Was it here?

The thing she was looking for. The reason she'd boarded a rusted freighter out of Denon and come to this wasteland of memory and stone. She didn't have a name for it. Just a pull. Not like a vision or a prophecy since she didn't really do those. Just a sense, like something had been taken from her without permission and was hiding here. Something hers.

Scherezade exhaled slowly, fogging her mask. She wanted to rip it off and breathe in the air raw, let it sting her lungs, but she knew better. Even ruin had fangs.

Her hand dropped.

A whisper coiled behind her, low and careful. Not threatening. Not obviously, anyway.

"Why are you here?"

The Sith tilted her head slightly, like maybe the question had come from her music, or the wall, or something deep in the bones of the Spiral. But nah, she knew well enough that it hadn't.

Her lips curled into a smirk.

"Well that's new," she muttered, pausing the music with a tap to her ear. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes scanning the shadows, but not really expecting to find anything. "Gonna be more specific, mystery walls?"

 

[Kas Larsen]

​

Equipment: Jedi Jumpsuit | Utility Belt | Person Stealth Field | SD Belt | Electronic Lock Breakers | Slicing Computer
Tags: Kellan Jericho | Kyric | Voli Cholrass
Location: Katabasis | Black Spiral | Fortress Entrance
Objective: Recon of the Fortress | Gain Intel | Meet fellow Jedi

The ride on his speeder bike made matters a little easier and Kas wasn't wasting any time to delay activities to investigate the fortress. He saw the structure come into view. Disengaged the engines and thrusters of his speeder bike once parked just outside of the entrance. There was a figure that had just entered and Kas went off to catch-up with them. Didn't sense any darkness from the individual but remained cautious. The Dark side remains strong with its presence here.

Once close enough to make contact with Voli Cholrass he had never encountered the woman before so he spoke and wondered why she was here alone. It wasn't safe even in a small group things can get dangerous. Quietly the wind howled as Kas continued his approach. A whistle echoing throughout the entrance of the fortress as the wind bounces off the structure.

Kas kept a hand near his utility belt where his Lightsaber hilts hung and spoke out to the woman.

"It isn't safe to be wandering out here alone. The Dark side of the Force threatens anyone and anything that doesn't take precautions. Who are you?" Kas questioned the woman.

Thankfully, Voli and Kas weren't alone they had managed to emerge from the darkness and discovered Kyric and Kellan Jericho where their voices can be heard once Kas entered the fortress. His eyes did briefly scan around the corridor the group stood within having his guard up while he waited for Voli to state their business and identify themselves.

Slightly surprised that Kellan and Kyric didn't check their six once they got inside of the fortress. Nonetheless she didn't pose or seem to threaten anyone but cautions were necessary. Who knows what awaits inside of this fortress as the team of Jedi are embarking and exploring it.

"Kyric nice to see you again. You must be Master Jericho. I'm Kas Larsen." The young Jedi introduced himself to the pair and he was ready to proceed with them once Voli checked out.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Set and Vere? Dominique's brows raise a hair. Sibylla was down here looking into matters related to Katabasis? Why?

The younger woman seemed curious about the roots of the modern rendition of the tale, and how recent discoveries suggested... inaccuracies. It was certainly possible that verbal recounts of it might have shifted, and those retellings became written, and so on. Legends and myths where what they were precisely because of that cycle. Truth? The first victim of fame.

But to question who was reshaping the tale that Dominique didn't expect. Did she think there some conspiracy involving Katabasis' artifacts? More importantly, was this member of a Royal House suggesting she was open to things that weren't strictly speaking traditional? How open minded.

"I was interested for similar reasons," Dominique replied, not ready to simply drop her accusation so openly when Sibylla was still an unknown quantity. Might as well play off the other woman's interests. She started to flip the folio from one hand to the next when her golden eyes dropped as quickly as they'd popped back up. The pages lay open between her hands, and the Senator's eyes scanning its contents.

"…though by the time of Queen Dalis' mid-reign (circa 830 BR), the myth of Set and Veré had been canonized in its current form - a tale of celestial defiance, tragic love, and divine apotheosis - widely adopted across Naboo's core provinces as symbolic of harmony through sacrifice.

It is worth noting, however, that one of the few dissenting interpretations survived among a marginalized sect known as the Way of the Returning Star. Regarded with suspicion for their flirtation with so-called 'Force dualism,' the group taught a variant version of the legend in which Set's descent was viewed not as corruption, but as transformation - a tale too near Sith symbology for contemporary acceptance.

Few texts remain from the sect, most destroyed or absorbed into private collections during the Third Cultural Purge. Their doctrines, if ever widely known, left little impression on the canon - though some scholars suggest echoes may yet linger in rural oral traditions along the Sabean River Valley."

From "Cycles and Sovereigns: A Comparative History of Naboo Mythos," by Junari Lo-Venn, Archivist of Theed, Vol. II, First Printing (438 ABR)

This wasn't part of what she'd originally requested. It was related, but hardly pertinent to more recent developments.

"Way of the Returning Star?" Dominique finally looked up at Sibylla. Well, it would hardly be threatening to her own investigation about the Five Veils to share this historic interpretation -- whatever it meant. "What do you make of this Ambassador?" Dominique stressed the title playfully. Was she certain such a role suited her? Down here in the archives uncovering mysteries. Hardly the sort of thing Ambassadors did. Then again, a romance story might just be a personal interest. "Does this have anything to do with Katabasis? It mentions the Sith, which are often associated with matters of the Dark Side." Perhaps her companion would have a more informed opinion on these matters. She might certainly be more familiar with the River Valley mentioned in the writing.

Sibylla Abrantes | Pillar of Freedom

 

[Kellan Jericho]

​

Kellan tossed an eyebrow in Kyric's direction, his expression settling into something that said 'not bad' without the words exiting his mouth. His intuition had proved him correctly; This one was good company to keep. He moved to a comfortable squatting position, deactivating his lightsaber with the quick press of a button. His wrists moved to rest on his knees, Kellan's gaze focused intently upon the end of the path forwards as a surge of inexistent wind coalesced around his feet. The feint scent of pine needles and mountain dew wafted through the air, encircling the two Jedi in a spherical pattern that cut through the lingering taint of the dark that seeped through the stone around them.

The Padawan from his comms arrived shortly with another in tow. "Took ya' long enough, kiddo" Kellan remained entranced despite the casual acknowledgment of their presence. Those imperceivable winds around them came to a sudden stop as they extended to their farthest point forwards, unable to cut further through the darkness than the end of the lit sconces further down the hall. Within an instant his aura retracted back down the corridor, enshrouding the four Jedi within a protective warding of the light. That same scent continued to linger within the air, cutting through the smell of desiccation and wet earth that otherwise tugged at their nostrils.

"I've got up somethin' of a protective barrier around us. It'll ward off some the manifestations-- illusions caused by the dark side of the force." It wasn't guaranteed to overpower something sitting on top of a leyline, but it was better nothing. "I want you two to stay close. Keep your eyes open, and try not to get separated. This place can change itself within a heartbeat, and you might not never know until it's too late." One Padawan was a task he really wasn't expecting to have to deal with, and then there were two.

Sigh.​

"And uhhm..don't call me Master, kid. You make me sound old. Kellan works good enough." Kellan rose slowly up to his feet, exaggerating the act as if his knees were feeling heavy by the act. He looked across to Kyric and gave him a nod. "You've got the best eyes in the group, Kyr. Take the lead, I'll cover us from the rear."

 

[Kyric]

Kyric dipped his head at Kas' approach.

"Evenin' Kas. Glad to see yer keepin' well," the kiffar didn't say much else in favor of allowing Kellan to fill the two stragglers in. Kyric scrutinized Voli in the meantime, taking a proper measure of the new face. She struck him as an oddity. Her pale skin, silver and purple hair, and dark clothing gave the impression of a local denizen of the Black Spiral, but he knew from the mission manifesto that the young woman was a member of the Order. Albeit, she didn't strike Kyric as dangerous.

At least not upon first impressions.

Moving a bit further up the hall, Kyric shifted his head from left to right, his singular eye absorbing every inch of the corridor. It became evident the sconces weren't spaced perfectly along the walls after counting paces between the one he lit, to the next, and finally a third resting unused around the bend of an adjacent hall. The group's footfalls echoed behind him at such a low volume he checked at regular intervals to ensure he hadn't been separated, but every time he turned, they were maybe eight steps behind him.

"I'm thinkin' the leyline might be warpin' the effects of space-time in the Spiral," Kyric offered as he peered down a corridor to his left. "This place feels old, yet it's lookin' fresher than a new coat o' paint."

On a whim, the kiffar lifted his hand. Emerald lightning sparked into being around his outstretched palm, casting the heavy scent of ozone around him for the briefest second. He released the bolt of lightning not straight down the hall, but directly up, instead.

The viridescent bolt traveled far enough for the darkness to swallow it whole.

"Any of y'all ever visit a Nexus? It's givin' me a similar feelin' but... different, too. Like an ancient Sith battleground."

---

Tags: Kellan Jericho | Kas Larsen | Voli Cholrass

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Naboo's ancient archives
Theed |Naboo
Dominique Vexx​

Sibylla's brow knitted faintly as she listened, her gaze lingering on the old text in Dominique's hands as if the words themselves might rearrange into something clearer. She hadn't missed the stress of the Ambassador title, and Sibylla did her best to maintain her bearing, but even the teenager could not help how her curiosity sparked at hearing what revelation came next.

"The Way of the Returning Star…" she repeated under her breath, but more to herself than Dominique. Her fingers began to trace the margin of the page absentmindedly, caressing the fine leather under her touch.

"I hadn't heard of them before," Sibylla admitted quietly before lifting her chin and schooling her expression back into something more even.

"Not properly, at least. But if they saw Set's fall not as a corruption but a… transformation..."

She took a breath and then elaborated on what she had learned from her mother, the former Minister of Culture, and from her father.

"My father says House Abrantes does not wield the Force, but our memories are long and we have endured... Naboo has seen many changes since the Gulag Plague, and there were four hundred years, if not millennia, before then -- The Omega Protectorate. The Alliance. The Techno Union. The Confederacy."

She gestured faintly as she listed them, each name a wave that had crashed over their world. It was then that her brow gave a subtle furrow in the way it always did when she was turning something over in her mind.

"I'm no Jedi. But Naboo hasn't always been under their care. There were others....Force traditions that didn't see themselves as Jedi or Sith. Orders that watched the stars differently."

She glanced back at Dominique, a spark of something curious and cautious slipping into her voice.

"Maybe the Way of the Returning Star was one of them."


Dice Golem
APP
— 2:19 PM
@Sibylla | Danger rolled 1d20: (12) = 12

 

[Voli Cholrass]

Current Outfit
Pre Built Lightsaber

Voli picked up more people through the Force. They weren't souls from a bygone era but rather regular people. Voli turned around seeing a man dressed in a Jedi Jumpsuit who looked a little older than her judging by his youthful features. The way he examined her as if she were some inhabitant from the Unknown Regions made Voli feel uncomfortable. "Oh wonderful," Voli thought. "It's like I'm back in High School where people always stare at the weird girl."

On the other hand, Voli did arrive alone in front of an eerie fortress that looked straight out of a B-Holomovie. "Are you part of the Jedi expedition?" Voli asked trying to break the awkward tension. "It is good to meet you Kas, my name is Voli Cholrass: Jedi Padawan."

Two more men approached the entrance older than either Voli or Kas. The blonde one who looked like the splitting image of the legendary Jedi: Luke Skywalker began to refer Kas as "kid" Voli silently observed the interaction, her arms slowly swaying to her side. She would've been annoyed if the man called her a kid. "What's their relationship?" Voli thought. "Friends? Master and apprentice? If the latter, I wished Master would've been more casual with me."

Voli gave a small snort. "Okay maybe she can do away with calling me a kid."

Another man appeared who was named: Kyr. He had long black hair tied to a ponytail and seemed to know where he was going. "Ummmm Master Kellan and Master Kyric," Voli said with a bow. "My name is Voli Cholrass: Jedi Padawan...... It's an honor and a privilege to join such an expedition. I look forward to learning the mysteries of this place."

She allowed herself to smile though part of her had to contain the excitement that was slowly growing within her. Voli planned on collecting any artifacts in the Black Spiral. At least the ones deemed useful, she wouldn't know which one though but she'll leave it up to the Force. "Right behind you." Voli said her fingers brushing against her training saber.

Kas Larsen , Kellan Jericho , Kyric

 

[Kas Larsen]

​

Equipment: Jedi Jumpsuit | Utility Belt | Person Stealth Field | SD Belt | Electronic Lock Breakers | Slicing Computer
Tags: Kellan Jericho | Kyric | Voli Cholrass
Location: Katabasis | Black Spiral | Fortress Entrance
Objective: Recon of the Fortress | Gain Intel | Accompany fellow Jedi

Kas looked between the trio who formed the Jedi expedition and were now inside of the fortress. Nodded his head over to Kellan and Kyric as they formed up with Kas and Voli. He felt the protective barrier that the Jedi Knight had applied for the team. A weight off his shoulders. Listened to Voli introduce herself as another Padawan Learner and knew of the expedition going on. It eased Kas' mind that now the team of Jedi consisted four and there was Caden, Seri back at the J-1 shuttle on stand-by. Everything seemed to be going smoothly so far for the team.

A smile at the corner of his mouth appeared as the young Knight preferred not to be called with the formal title of Master. Albeit Kas and Voli were only showing respect for Kellan as they met. Being a hybrid of Epicanthix and Keshian due to inheriting his mother and father's genes, traits. Kas would have a unique visual of matters that can help and quite a strong mental resistance against any mind manipulations from the Dark side of the Force

The footsteps from the others echoed down the corridor inside of this fortress in which Kas activated his SD belt out of caution. Rested his hands down by either side of his utility belt.

"Sorry Kellan. I came across Padawan Cholrass on the way here. Looks like we're a good team. Nice to see you're doing well too Kyric." Kas acknowledged the Kiffar Padawan Learner.

He turned his attention over to Voli and nodded to confirm he was with the Jedi expedition.

"Yeah, I am with the expedition." Kas answered Voli as his sights turned over to Kellan. "Caution noted Kellan there'll be mysteries to uncover but hopefully not ones that are high-risk." There was caution coming from Kas' voice and words as he spoke to the group.

Kas continued to keep his eyes watching the environment of this fortress and maintain having his guard up too. This was a first for Kas to enter the belly of the beast - the Dark side that is.

Sticking close with fellow Jedi and following Kyric's lead as the Kiffar took point Kas walked along with the team. No sound from his footsteps only his voice would provide any sound while here. Continued on and tapped a few of his fingers onto his commlink in a code back to his twin sister Seri and young brother Caden to reassure that he made it. Discovered the team here too.

It was when Kyric asked the question about Nexus' and for Kas in his studies back in the Jedi Archives. The term was familiar that Caden explained further to him when they had free time.

"I'm sure there are many Nexus' throughout the Galaxy. Planets do have their own heard objects and even individuals could have such feats Kyric. The darkness looms strongly here." Kas answered while in thought about this fortress possibly having a lot of battle history here.

Kas moved along with Kellan, Kyric and Voil heading deeper inside of the fortress cautiously.

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala frowned at the thought of this place wanting them. She was to Lorn's side in a moment, and her hand rested reassuringly on his arm. The touch said, simply, "I am here." Still the eeriness of the place was not to be ignored.

Ala had felt it the first time she came here, on her survey mission. It was like the Dark Side clawed at the fringes of her mind, not outright challenging her light...more mocking it.

The other elven woman in the room garnered a soft, but cautious smile from Ala. She did not recognize the woman as a Jedi of the High Republic. "I do not know much of Naboo myth and legend...but Katabasis has already shown to have some connection to Naboo. The goddess Shiraya is mentioned in fragments of remaining etchings about this very room. What the Sith would have wanted with a Naboo story...is part of why we are here."

Ala's attention was pulled away by another Jedi, a young woman that shared no small resemblance to the Grandmaster. For a moment, she thought to approach her, but then a bodyless humming. Beside her, an intern started humming along. "You hear it too?" Ala said, glancing first at Lorn, and then the intern.

"Why yes...my mother used to sing it," came the reply, "who...was humming it?" The intern looked concerned now.

"What are the words to this song?" Ala said, moving a half step closer to the altar without realising it.

The intern hummed the song again, as if to job her memory. And then the words came. "Down by the willow where the waterdrakes sleep, Verè sang soft, and the roots ran deep. Set wore the crown of the storm-lit tree, Bound in bark so none could see. The rushes bend when the red moon climbs, Whispering songs in skipping rhymes. Don't drink the dew from the violet's breath it makes you dream of things long left."

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Lorn Reingard Bastila Sal-Soren Maiz Tor'val | Equipment: Two short-blade yellow lightsabers |​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He did not reply for a moment. Instead, he let the echo of the strangers words die out. She could not see him. It was better to keep it this way and not remove the one advantage he had in this moment.

He moved slightly, back pulling away from the wall that he had been resting against. It was only for a moment, but when he leaned back the wall was gone. He stumbled, only slightly, catching himself against a wall to his right that hand not been there a moment before. "What the hell?" He muttered, perhaps not the best reply to the strangers queries.

The Black Spiral was...changing.

He reached for his comms, thinking it best to contact the Jedi back at the Temple of Broken Chains. They needed to be informed. But his hand froze. Touching the comms would illuminate the space where he was, if it had not already been given away.

"This place is not safe...you should not have come," he said, erring on the side of compassion rather than suspicion...mostly.

| TAG: Scherezade deWinter |

​

 

[Pari Sylune]

Then the comms crackled. [Static. Click. A female voice on the network—probably Jedi comms:]

"...storm front approaching from the western ridge... sulfur density rising... advise shelter within five minutes... repeat, massive ion and particulate disruption expected—"

Pari waited, straining to hear through the crackling static, but the comm channel offered nothing in return. No word from the pilot in the pit below. The storm was building fast, wind and sand clawing at the world around her. A Jedi grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the safety of the ship. She let the portable comm unit slip from her hand—it was useless for now. They'd try again once aboard. They had to. The pilot could be in serious danger.

The storm howled, a living, violent thing, but it wasn't just the weather that made it hard to breathe. Pari felt it in the Force, something sick and wrong, like a wound that had festered for ages. It clung to the air, to the earth beneath her boots, to the very bones of the planet. As a healer, the sensation twisted in her gut. Her every instinct urged her to help, to begin mending what had been broken. But the damage was vast, too vast to see where one could even begin.


Her worry for the pilot grew as wild and relentless as the storm around them.

Flight Officer Michael Angellus, alive. Storm disrupted comms. Holding position. Observing anomaly. Need Jedi consult ASAP.

Finally the static filled message broke the airwaves. Pari grasped the comm unit like it was a lifeline, the relief evident in her voice as she signaled back to the pilot.

"Office Angellus, glad you are still with us. Jedi Consult preparing to come now."

She and an older Jedi, a Knight by the looks of things, left to board the ship Angellus piloted and listen to his report.

Tags: Michael Angellus

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"You certainly don't need to tell me, Dear, about the age of galactic affairs. Denon wasn't built in a century." Dominique paused to smile. "The Sith visited even our shores only five decades ago. It wouldn't be shocking to find they'd had some influence on even Naboo's history. Then again it hardly matters now does it? We all play our parts and leave our influence; while time invariably marches on, a good story never fades."

"After all, I hardly see temples of blood and chants for wanton destruction guiding the Republic's hand. Whatever influence the Sith had has long since been surmounted. Now, then," Dominique regarded Sibylla Abrantes from behind her glareshades, "what was that about Veré?" At least they'd tried? There'd been a touch of romance in that breath. At least compared to what a soldier might breathe with fierce determination.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

​

"This place is not safe...you should not have come."

Scherezade did not immediately respond. Instead, she closed her eyes, and took a long, deep inhale. No scent of blood. Frak. Whoever this person was, they hadn't injured themselves. Not even a little nick. No scent to follow, no spill to trace. That ruled out her Blood Hound tricks. Annoying.
But the Force?

The Force was humming, twisting, curling around her skin like invisible smoke. The walls had moved again. She didn't need her eyes to know it. The air had a tug now, subtle but real. Like the whole place was breathing. Watching.

She opened her eyes, smiling. "Did you do that?" she asked the mystery wall voice, "Because if this is hide and seek, I call dibs on being the seeker."
Scherezade spun slowly on her heel, arms spread slightly as if to feel the pulse of the space. "Gotta say, though," she added with a playful lilt, "you picked a dramatic place to whisper from. All shadowy and mysterious. Very brooding of you."

She could play. Even with the place shifting around her and her better senses muzzled, she could still play.

She stepped forward, no direction in mind, just motion. Just pressure.

"Or maybe…" she purred, letting the word stretch like silk over a blade, "You're scared," another step. "Which would mean…" her voice dropped lower, sharper, "you're getting just as twisted in this place as I am."

​

---

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Naboo's ancient archives
Theed |Naboo
Dominique Vexx​

Sibylla tilted her head ever so slightly in hearing Senator Vexx's admission that the Sith had also occupied Denon decades back, her hazel eyes perking with interest.

"I must confess," she began, her voice laced with polite curiosity, the girl returning the indigo leather bound folio back into place before gesturing for the Senator to walk with her. If there were other folios of use, they could search them together. Where would information regarding the Sabean River Valley be?

"I hadn't realized the Sith had held Denon so recently. And yet today, its voice is seated firmly in the High Republic's Assembly."

She folded her hands neatly in front of her, fingertips brushing the edge of the folio once more.

"What would you say, Senator, lingers from such an occupation? Shadows have a curious way of staying long after their source has passed."

The young Ambassador paused, and her delicate features softened into a thoughtful expression. She found a folio that would provide more insight. The Legend of Set and Vere and handed it to Senator Vexx.

"As for Vere," she began, her tone touched with that particular blend of reverence and composed clarity, "she was once known as Shiraya, the moon goddess, beloved daughter of the formidable Kharos. Of all their pantheon, only she dared walk among mortals, veiling her divinity behind the name Vere."

She glanced up, a small smile playing at her lips.

"They say she brought prosperity with her footsteps and lit the world like the morning star. Her heart, however, was given to Set, a mortal prince born of a noble line and rare kindness."

Her gaze softened, distant now.

"From the moment their eyes met, they were bound... but as such tales often go, destiny was not kind."

A breath, then her eyes returned to the page.

"She loved him still. Even when it cost her everything."

---

Dice Golem APP — 10:35 AM

@Sibylla | Dangerrolled
1d20
:
(12)
= 12

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

​

Whispers of ancient Sith echo from the pit known as the Hollow Gate. Cracked, faceless statues ring the sinkhole, as if in silent vigil. Discover its secrets. Prepare a report on the danger this place poses to future travelers.

Entry 115
Dear Diary(Why am I still saying that?),

BRED says I need to “process things in order,” which is rich coming from a droid who just spent ten minutes trying to hide behind a chair that doesn’t move.

So, here’s the order:

1. The storm broke.
   
   
2. The monolith shifted.
   
   
3. And—bless the stars—someone finally answered my damn distress beacon.
   

Let’s start with the monolith.
Once the sulfur cleared (mostly), I took the dropship back down. Not as deep this time—hovering maybe fifteen meters above platform level. That’s when I saw it. The crack down its center? Not just light anymore. It’s… wider. Still closed, but it’s like the stone is breathing. Like it’s reacting to something.

Or someone.

And—get this—it’s pulsing in time with the ship’s engines.

Not the other way around. It’s leading. We’re following.

Then BRED let out a long, slow trill—the kind that usually precedes something exploding or me doing something dumb.
oooooo [Life signs,] he translated through the shuttle’s holo overlay. woooo [Brief. Two. Then gone.] Inside the monolith.

...

Then the static cleared.

I nearly jumped out of my seat. The comm panel crackled like a dying bonfire—then a voice broke through it. Familiar. Clearer than anything I'd heard since the descent.

Officer Angellus, glad you are still with us.

It was a Padawan from the Jedi liaison corps. Sweet, sharp, and way too good at pretending I don’t stress her out. Her voice carried this kind of ragged relief—like she thought I’d become part of the scenery.

Jedi Consult preparing to come now.

All I could do was sit back in the pilot’s seat, staring at the monolith.

Yeah, I said out loud. You're going to want to bring your best robes for this one.

OOOWWWW [Since when do I wear clothes?!]

Not you… I’m just thinking out loud!

BEEOOOP [Thinking? I didn’t know you did that?]

Sigh. Oh shut up.

A few minutes later, I brought us back up to the mesa. A Sleek silhouette. Jedi insignia visible even through the haze. A Padawan and an older Jedi—robes dark, shoulders squared, calm like a thunderhead right before it cracks open. A Knight, probably. The kind who’s seen too much and still volunteers for the next mission, and for the first time all day, I’m not alone in this hole.

...

Still. I can’t shake it. That pulse. That hum. It’s not just noise anymore. It’s a pattern.
And I think it’s waiting for someone to get close enough to hear the rest of it.

Guess I’ll find out if that’s me.
—Michael
(staring at the crack in the stone, and hoping it doesn’t blink back.)

Entry 116

Dear Diary(No, seriously, I have to stop this. What’s next, a sleepover and teen magazines?),
I just gave the weirdest debrief of my career. And that includes the one where I had to explain to an Admiral how a herd of wild nerfs ended up on the flight deck.

Pari Sylune was first through the airlock—hood half-up, robe smudged with mesa dust, eyes sharp like she was already preparing to scold me for something. I tried to open with a joke about haunted architecture. She didn’t laugh. Classic.

Behind her came the Knight.

Didn’t catch his name. Didn't need to.

He looked like every cautionary tale you hear about Jedi who survive wars but don’t quite come back the same. Quiet. Measured. Tall enough to block the light when he stood in front of the cockpit viewport.

“You descended into an unclassified Sith site during a storm with no Force support,” he said after I finished my report.

I shrugged. You left the engine running and I got curious.

He blinked once. “We’re going back.”

BRED groaned in binary. oooOOOooo [Of course we are.]

So here we are again. Prepping to take the dropship back down. I’m flying. Pari’s riding copilot, I couldn’t tell if she was impressed by how I handled the storm flight, or wondering how we were surviving with how reckless this was. Oh well. I deserve an award.

The Knight is in the back, meditating, or possibly judging the shuttle’s interior design. Hard to tell.

We agreed on a new hover position—closer to the monolith this time. The plan is:

1. Attempt closer visual survey.
   
   
2. Run a passive Force scan.
   
   
3. Try to determine if the pulse pattern is a language, a warning… or a countdown.
   

It feels different now. The moment we sealed the ramp and began descent again, the air got heavier. BRED tried to play a status chime and it came out off-key. The Knight’s eyes opened—just slightly. Like he felt something stretch in the darkness.

The monolith is waiting.

I don’t think it cares who we are.
But I think it remembers what we are.

...

More soon, assuming we don’t get spiritually unzipped by ancient Force geometry.
—Michael
(Jedi on board. Pit in view. Bad decisions pending.)


Pari Sylune

 

[Pari Sylune]

Pari was sitting in the co-pilots seat, staring out at the vast and haunting sight of the floating monolith. The Force felt weird down here..as if she was feeling it through a scratchy blanket. It took her a few moments to realize she was holding her breath.

In the back Knight Zor was meditating. She wondered if he felt the oddness around them too. It just felt … wrong.

“Does it always have those symbols?”

She pointed to two red gliphs that were illuminated slightly, but they quickly dimmed and became smooth, almost like they caught her noticing them. She frowned. Inwardly she felt like she wanted to jump out of her skin but she had more discipline than that.

Knight Zor finally spoke again. “This place is alive with dark energy. It’s like the very heart of a Sith Master.. and yet… very foreign. “

Pari did not like the sound of that.


Michael Angellus

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

​

Whispers of ancient Sith echo from the pit known as the Hollow Gate. Cracked, faceless statues ring the sinkhole, as if in silent vigil. Discover its secrets. Prepare a report on the danger this place poses to future travelers.

ENTRY 117
Time: Yeah, I know I haven’t entered a time, but time
has no meaning down here. Just heartbeat counts.

Dear Diary,

Okay. So I wasn’t imagining it.

The monolith is reacting.

Pari saw it too. She was in the co-pilot seat, staring through the forward viewport with this look—calm on the outside, but I could tell she was fighting the instinct to flinch. She didn’t say anything for a while, and then, real quiet:

“Does it always have those symbols?”

I looked.

Two glyphs… Faint… Red… New.

I swear to the stars they blinked out the second we both locked eyes on them. Just faded into smooth black stone like they’d never been there at all. What the?

AAUUUUOOOGH [Don’t do that! You just gave me the willies!]

You can’t get the willies!
Boooep [Every time I look at you shaving!]

It was reactive. Observational. The monolith knows we’re looking.

The kid tried to play it cool, but I caught her thumb twitching near her saber. She’s young, but she’s smart—too smart not to notice that the Force doesn’t flow clean down here.

It’s muffled. It hums wrong.
The air’s full of it—like dark static trying to tune itself into your head.

And Knight Zor? He’d been meditating for twenty minutes in dead silence. Then he opened his eyes, slowly, like he had to ease his way back into the room.

“This place is alive with dark energy,” he said. “It’s like the very heart of a Sith Master… and yet… very foreign.”

Foreign.

That word bothered him.
It bothers me!

Because if it’s not just Sith—if it’s something older, or other—we may not have the tools to understand it. As we hovered closer, the dropship’s passive sensors started glitching. Not just flickering—looping. Like it was showing footage from thirty seconds ago, then skipping forward like it was catching up.

BRED beeped a warning, then flailed a manipulator at me. I looked out and realized the monolith was pulsing again. Not rhythmically. This time it was in waves. Long, slow breaths. And when I leaned closer—I felt something knock against my thoughts. Not a message. Not even a word.
Just a presence. Cold. Curious.

Hungry like a closed door that hasn’t been opened in centuries. Zor stood, one hand on his belt, the other raised.

“Something is trying to reach into us,”

he said.

“But it’s not Force possession. It’s like… it’s looking for familiar frequencies.”

Pari looked visibly shaken.

All I could do was asl Is it searching for a host?

Zor didn’t answer.
...

We’ve decided to disembark.

Yeah, I know.

Smart move, right?

But Zor wanted to get closer.

“To test the field,” he said. See if the glyphs respond to contact—physical or spiritual. Pari’s going with him.

And me?

Yeah. I’m going too.
Because I’d rather be inside the blast radius with them than sitting up here wondering what went wrong.

We went in full scan mode, lights on, weapons holstered. The Knight said he sensed a point of access beneath the lowest platform. There’s a door in the stone.

Of course there is.

Entry 118 may or may not be written by the haunted, Sith-possessed remains of Michael Angellus.

Here’s hoping for the former.
—Michael
(Entering the unknown. Again. No regrets yet. Just bad feelings.)



@Pari Sylune

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

Lorn didn't move when Ala touched his arm. He simply let the warmth of her hand seep through his sleeve, like sunlight finding its way through cracked shutters, holding him together, barely. Her presence was always like gravity, a gentle, firm anchor keeping things from drifting into the dark. Yet, in this place, everything felt poised to do just that: to float away, or to fall into an abyss.

Maiz's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Her question had the regal, slightly imperious tone of someone too accustomed to being obeyed to truly understand how to ask. He turned towards her, a slow, deliberate movement, "Only a Temple of the Goddesses has a Will. Are you saying this is such a place? To one of your goddesses?"

"My goddesses?" he echoed, the words soft, as if the very idea had gathered dust over centuries. "No. This place doesn't belong to anything so… benevolent." He held Maiz's gaze. Her stance was proud, almost aloof, too outwardly composed. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that it wouldn't last. Not here.

"But it does have a will," he finally conceded. "Something ancient. Not divine, no. Just… hungry." His gaze drifted across the echoing chamber, settling on Bastila.

She sat like a statue carved in perpetual mourning, her very presence stretched taut, caught in that brittle, precarious space between coherent thought and utter fracture. The Force itself seemed to cling to her, wrapping around her in a shroud of frost. "Do you see that?" Lorn murmured, mostly to himself. "She's hearing it too." And then, as if on cue, the humming began.

It came slowly, a forgotten lullaby dredged up from some deep, inaccessible place. The intern's voice, thin and sweet and utterly wrong for this ancient chamber, carried words Lorn hadn't heard in decades. "Down by the willow where the waterdrakes sleep…" The next lines twisted a knot in his chest, pulling at a memory half-formed: his mother, sewing late at night, humming softly under her breath. He could almost hear the faint snip of scissors on thread, the soft click of needles, and her voice, murmuring something about Set and Verè. He'd never cared to learn the rest, too busy, too proud to believe in what he'd dismissed as fairy tales. Now, he wished with a sudden, aching intensity, that he had listened.

He looked back at Bastila, her stillness deepening, becoming something more profound than simple meditation. "She's not meditating," he whispered. "She's… somewhere else."

Ala Quin | Maiz Tor'val | Bastila Sal-Soren​