Private The Light Strikes Against The Dark

[The Dark Inquisitor]

Location: Ancient Lost Sith Planet along the Outer Rim's far edge
Characters: Valery Noble The Dark Inquisitor

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Far along the edges of the Galaxy, beyond the Outer Rim where gangsters and ruffians dwell. Beyond the scope of the light and most notions of those who choose to act as warriors in its name, there floats a planet. Like an orb that calls to those who happen to chance a sighting. Beckoning. Calling. Waiting. From above it shows no life along its surface, the only source of light being the distant stars above and the lava that flows through cracks along its surface. The scorched terrain stretched out in jagged, blackened ridges, cracked and broken like the skin of a dying world. Rivers of molten magma snaked down the hillside, their fiery glow casting harsh, flickering light against the obsidian rock. Geysers of steam hissed from deep fissures in the earth, while plumes of lava erupted sporadically, painting the ashen sky with a dull orange hue. The air shimmered with heat, thick with the acrid stench of sulphur and scorched metal, and every breath felt like inhaling fire. In the distance, the low rumble of shifting earth and bubbling magma underscored the land's restless fury. An untamed hellscape where life had no foothold, only survival.

But this planet was more than just a crucible of fire and stone—it pulsed with an ancient, malevolent energy, older than the stars that hung dimly in the ash-choked sky. Deep beneath its cracked surface, hidden within catacombs carved by forgotten hands, the Dark Side of the Force lingered like a festering wound. Whispers echoed through the burning wind, remnants of long-dead Sith Lords whose hatred and hunger had seeped into the very bones of the world. Here, in this forsaken corner of the Outer Rim's Edge, power was not just drawn—it was devoured, twisted, and reborn in shadow. The planet itself had become a nexus of darkness, a place where the veil between life and death thinned, and where the Force bent toward rage, pain, and domination. Even the magma seemed to move with purpose, as if stirred by unseen wills that are watching, waiting, remembering.

Atop a jagged outcrop that jutted like a fang from the scorched earth, a lone figure sat in perfect stillness, silhouetted against the roiling curtain of smoke and fire that churned endlessly across the horizon. Cloaked in blackened robes singed by heat, their form was motionless—yet the air around them trembled. The very rock beneath their feet pulsed faintly, as though recoiling from the presence that sat upon it. From their body, dark energy rippled in silent waves, warping the light, distorting the heat shimmer into ghostly shapes that writhed and vanished. The Force thickened around them, heavy and suffocating, drawn inward and then expelled like a heartbeat made of hate and hunger. Their breath was steady, yet rough, as if breathed through mechanical organs, their mind submerged in meditation, but the darkness flowed from them like smoke from a dying fire—alive, aware, and utterly unrestrained. Below, the magma rivers churned louder, as if echoing some unspoken command. Something ancient stirred within this vessel of power, and the planet—this black altar of fury—listened.

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Lightsabers

The descent through the planet's upper atmosphere was turbulent, even for Valery's experience behind the controls. Heat shimmered through the cockpit glass, streaking the dark sky with a deep red glow as the ship angled downward. Alarms flickered briefly as she adjusted course, weaving between thermal currents and thick plumes of smoke. It was a violent welcome, but she had not expected anything less.

Once the ship broke through the last layers of ash and cloud, the surface came into view. Lava rivers snaked between ridgelines and cliffs. The air was thick, full of sulfur and heat. This was not a place where life was meant to thrive, and yet, something lingered here.

Kinhaes, a Jedi of her Order, had last been known to have traveled to these far reaches of the Galaxy before her disappearance. It had taken Valery time to piece together enough information to get here, but she was not going to leave until she had answers.

Her ship settled against a narrow stretch of blackened stone, stabilized just enough to hold steady against the shifting terrain. The moment she stepped outside, the heat struck her with an almost physical force. Her dark outer tunic immediately caught the ash drifting on the wind. Her hair was tied back tightly, though a few strands had already broken free against the dry wind.

Valery paused at the base of a high ridge, her eyes narrowing as she reached out through the Force. There was no doubt about it, this place was steeped in darkness. It clung to the rocks, lingered in the air, and whispered at the edges of her mind. She could not yet tell if it was ancient or active.

With a steady breath, she began to climb. Her boots found purchase on the blackened stone, each step deliberate. She would search this place for any signs of Kinhaes. Tracks, energy traces, objects left behind. Whatever had drawn the Jedi here, Valery would face it next.

The Dark Inquisitor ​

 

[The Dark Inquisitor]

Armour: Scourgebound Inquisitorial Armour
Weapon: Lightsaber
Valery Noble

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Kneeling upon the jagged crest of the charred hill, the warrior was a silhouette of pure darkness—her form cloaked not just in shadow, but exuding it, as if the very fabric of night bled from her skin and armour. The world sprawled below her in a churning sea of molten rivers and fractured stone, its breath rising in waves of ash that painted the sky in a perpetual dusk. Yet her eyes remained closed, unseeing, untouched by the fury of the world around her. Her focus was inward—and on what hovered before her.

Suspended in the air by unseen force, the pieces of her lightsaber turned with slow, deliberate grace. Each component—burnished steel, scorched alloy, fragments of tarnished beskar—drifted around the core like planets orbiting a dying star. At the heart of it all pulsed twin crimson kyber crystals, cracked and unstable, throbbing with a sickly, rhythmic glow. The Dark Side surged through her like a tide of molten oil—thick, unrelenting, ancient. With each breath, she drew upon it, weaving strength and hatred into motion, guiding metal to metal, soul to blade.

As the final piece clicked into place with a soft, magnetic hum, something deeper stirred. A tremor—not in the earth, but in the Force itself. Her eyelids remained sealed, but her awareness stretched outward like an unseen storm. The newly forged weapon—a brutal, elegant thing of fire-forged wrath—settled at her side, resting against the hot stone. It was more than a tool now. It was an extension of her will. And as her senses spilled forth into the chaos beyond, sweeping like a black tide across the molten expanse, she searched—not for peace, but for the threat that would dare to break it.