The Patience of Stone (Sith Empire)

[Darth Ansirrian]

Korriban, 1:00 PM Planetary Time
Szol Region, Lowlands.

Fifty-two slaves were dead, an impressive number but somewhat expected given the harsh conditions they were forced to work in. Everything about the Szol Lowlands seemed to want them gone, the soil struck back each time it was dug into, choking clouds of baked powder that clung to the back of their throat and made breathing an increasingly difficult task as time went on.

Of course, the slaves were not issued protective equipment like rebreathers. They were expendable. Tools used to dig up the Tomb rumoured to be buried atop the Kow'rakkah Plateau. For three weeks they laboured under the tyranny of Korriban's sun. And now, as the final work team hooks their clawed shovels around the stone cap marking the entrance to the tomb they may believe their salvation is at hand.

Behind them an ecclectic team of Acolytes stand ready, weapons and other tools of war close at hand as they prepare to enter the tomb of Darth Ansirrian. The knowledge and power of the long dead Darth would be theirs, and they were prepared to go through whatever the Tomb had in store for them...and each other, to claim it.


At the rear of the black-robed procession sits a small red palanquin suspended by repulsor chassis. In this floating lap of luxury sits the architect of this endeavour, the Sith Lord Darth Sibilus observes the efforts of his underlings with the calculated detatchment that comes from a lifetime of command. It was by his will that the expedition was formed. And regardless of the Acolyte's intentions any prize worth taking would be his first to claim, lest they wish to suffer his displeasure.


[member="Darth Sibilus"]
[member="Mythos"]
[member="Darth Ferus"]
[member="Serixibis"]

 

[Mythos]

Idiots, pure imbecilic idiots. Re-breathers were about one of the most inexpensive pieces of equipment one could hand out to workers Mythos thought to himself, slaves or not you got better results from digsites and archaeological digs from people who were not dying. He had to keep himself from tearing apart not the slaves but the pen masters of the Sith Empire when sick and tires slaves chipped away accidentally at priceless busts and stone carvings due to exhaustion. Each stone pried away from the statues of the tomb would be a limb he would tear off the handlers of this digsite if they were under his jurisdiction... alas they were not... this was Sith Empire territory and in here he was a guest. "Imbeciles. They aren't even using proper sonar equipment, if i was in charge of this digstie i would have this place lined off for miles, every damn coin preserved and studied. The lack of discipline and knowledge to digsites of this generation and the generations prior disgusts me."

He spoke more to himself than to anything else in particular and the clothes he was wearing fit his words. Leather boots, Terentatek leather cloak and a brim hat made him look less like a Sith lord and more like an Archaeologist. The leather he wore he also acquired from here and if one looked into the distance one could see the black image of a four hundred pound Tuk'ata named Groom, also born here and brought here to mate for the ever growing pen of Tuk'atas Mythos grew and bred like fighting dogs. His lightsabers tucked neatly into his belt were his only weapons, over his left shoulder a skull stuck our like armor and around his back the Rudis and a flechette sawnoff shot gun. The Blade of Satvas and the blade of the Sith Assassins always tucked either in his boot or in his wrist... those were the most important weapons... they were the only weapons that could fight against force ghosts and in tombs they were abundant and deadly.

Packing heat was not because he distrusted the Sith Empire, he did, but that was not why he packed so much heat, this place... this force forsaken place... was always home to raiders and fanatics that killed any who they crossed and they did not care if you were a sith lord with army at your back, their love for credits and anything you might carry outweighed better judgment. Pelko bugs out in force after the tomb was open, their sting an already normal pain to Mythos, he grown inmune to their venom a long time ago. "Lets go see this... Pure Blood."



​

 

[Darth Sibilus]

KORRIBAN​

SZOL REGION, LOWLANDS​

​

Darth Sibilus was shrouded in dark cloth as he sat upon his mantle, a simple swathe deterring the dust which was being slung from the rock and his beady eye rested quietly upon the slaves, enemies of the Dark Lord and those who did not adhere to the laws of the worlds under His grasp. His fingers tapped hastily upon the metal of his throne, intermittently audible between the heavy clanks of the pickaxes upon the stone. He was eager to delve into the tomb, to discover the secrets within and plunder from the long lost hoards of long dead Sith.

He did not care about the growing pile of dead slaves just around the corner, nor did he care about the next hoard of revolting beasts native to these lands which would come and slaughter the taskforce. He wanted entry to the tomb, desperately. Drios could sense a great power within the stone, and he was eager to add it to his collection.

Shackled and bound to him via a heavy chain wrapped around the Sith Lord's right hand was a small, malnourished looking boy by the name of [member="Cairyn Midore"] was secured to his new master in what could only be described as a barbaric collar, with the smallest of spikes gouging into his skin in order to cause pain should he move too much. Initially, the Sith Lord had been lenient on his prisoner despite Cairyn's continued disrespect and defiance of him, though as time past he saw only one alternative to his facade as 'Mr Nice Guy'.

Thus, he had released him from his prison cell for a little fresh air - not that there was much of it amidst the cold, dusty atmosphere of Korriban, and set him to work amongst the common criminals and felon fiends which toiled amidst the danger and dust, their blood, sweat and tears mingling and becoming one with the harsh, unforgiving ground and their efforts appearing to be in vain as the very rock, imbued by the Dark Side seemed to repel them.

Cairyn had not conformed, so naturally he had been used as an example for slackers.

Winding another coil around his large, bear paw of a hand, Drios hissed through gritted teeth at Cairyn, behind the fabric mask, a contemptuous scowl was plastered across his features. "Are you ready to continue, yet?"

 

[Serixibis]

Noon under the Korriban sun on raised ground, the last place anyone wanted to be.

And yet....

That was exactly where Serixibis found herself, at the head of a dozen armed Acolytes who were also ~requested~ for this venture. Luckily for her she had a good deal of experience when it came to not dying like an animal in the desert sun, having spent her entire life on Korriban amongst the native Sith Pure-blooded tribes. This meant that the baking sun and choking sand blowing from the blood red mountains and across the plateau were as natural to her as the screams of nocturnal Terentatek's or pulling blood scarabs from her skin before they burrowed down and began to feast on her from the inside.

Natural, certainly. But that did not mean she enjoyed being here at the beck and call of Darth Sibilus.

With a defeated sigh Serixibis turned from her brief conversation with another fresh-faced Acolyte, a gloved hand coming up to adjust the black shemagh covering her head. Unlike most of the Acolytes and the growing pile of corpses that made up the dig team she had come prepared. Her Acolyte's robes stripped down to a basic long sleeved tunic and tight fitting pants covered by tassets of leather, from which hang a bulging satchel of supplies and her weapons. Hobnailed boots spiked at the ends to ensure a firm footing on the rocky pebbles of the Kow'rakkah Plateau crunch as she turns in place and advances on Darth Sibilus, her head bowed as she assumes a subservient posture and gestures briefly toward the Tomb's entrance.

"Lord, the tomb is open and we are ready to proceed at your leisure."

 

[NT-6922]

Natassia glanced nervously at the assembled Sith around her from behind her helmet's visor, the mercenary knowing very well that she completely stood out from the rest of the people there, clad in her iridescent green Hoplite Mark II power armor, her massive X-32 magnetically attached to her back and her M82 in hands. She had to remove her Ysalamari from its compartment from this mission, knowing fully well that no Sith would tolerate her to disturb their usage of the Force. She quietly added the signature of the nearby acolytes as friendly on her radar, their dots switching form white to yellow.
She glanced briefly at the growing pile of corpses, frowning. The Sith Empire had more than enough means to get them respirators, no matter how cheap. Was this out of cruelty?
Shrugging, the former stormtrooper kicked the thought away. Natassia did not really care for their fate, after all. The money would be good, and she got to see the Sith up close - something she would have to get used to, considering her new allegiance.

Still, Korriban and the Sith threw a completely different shade than Kashykk and the Jedi.
She was restless, adrenaline coursing through her blood. The urge to fire at an enemy and feel the satisfaction of killing was quite irresistible, if she was honest with herself. Rolling her eyes, she stared at the acolytes intensely, trying to gauge their potential. If things went haywire, would they be an asset or a liability?
It was with such calculations that she heard one of them announcing that the tomb was open, causing her to snap back into a rigid mindset, making last-minute verification. She had a job to do, and she intended to establish her reputation among the Sith Empire as a reliable associate.

 

[Cairyn Midore]

If the boy was particularly uncomfortable with the shackles, he gave little indication of such. The majority of his body covered in armor, a fact he almost thought people forgot about sometimes, the collar's spikes dug more into the neckpiece meant to stop the Orbalisks' encroaching more than his actual flesh. It was still an annoyance, one that kept him from straying too far from Drios' side, but perhaps not as much as they were intended to be. That and the boy found himself sticking very close to the Sith Lord anyway, partially since Drios was the only familiar face in this place, but also to keep that chain as away from public eye as possible. He had a reputation to maintain, did he not?

His time as active gamemaster had left him incredibly self-conscious of that reputation. So many credits had been spent on the finest fabrics and best temperature maintaining technology, all so he could look a part just a bit higher class than what he'd ever be, all to wipe away a bit of that childish exterior. Even now he tried to maintain some of that dignity, back straight, eyes staring down the felons with a cool gaze behind those thick rims. Nevermind the fact that his hair was a mess, or that dirt speckled his face almost as much as it did the criminals. They had to know just how much better he was than them

So, of course, he couldn't be participating in some silly manual labor. That wasn't his style, nor something anyone of his size would be much help in. No, these were the people who, in his own domain, he'd be the one determining how they lived or died. He was far too important to associate with them now. He'd offered to take on a supervising position, though, just to contribute. And those who didn't take kindly to that, those who questioned his divine right to call the shots, were not pleased with the results.

It'd only taken a couple bodies before Cairyn was pulled from the group and collared like an animal. The Sith might've been using him as an example, but he couldn't mind so long as it kept him away from the work. As Drios wound more of the chain in his hand, Cairyn was forced to get even closer to his fellow, close enough that Drios could possibly see the ever-present yet subtle shiver that had the boy's teeth clattering ever so slightly. A lack of cloak coupled with malnourishment had left him particularly susceptible to the chill.

"Oh, b-but we're having so much fun." He breathed a sigh, head giving a little shake in a little attempt to warm himself. His eyes caught sight of one of Korriban's fauna, said eyes widening when they did, his entire face almost lighting up. "Lookie there! Drios, I wanna pet it!"

[member="Darth [/FONT][FONT=georgia]Sibilus"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Interesting how they act, no? Mindlessly expending resources. It's interesting to say the least. Mandalorians, Jedi, the Republic. They would never openly admit to such sour cruelty, but it happened. Only the Sith will admit it, own up to it, and shrug their shoulders at it. The strong survive, the weak are used and expended when their use is up. It's so simple." A shadowy figure stepped up beside [member="Natassia Traxen"] , hobbled and leaning heavily on his cane. The Dark Lord watched over her shoulder, a faint smile on his lips. "What do you think of this as an outsider? It must stir something in that mind of yours." He continued to lean, looking the part of a frail old man with nothing better to do then watch and wait.

[member="Darth Ansirrian"]

 

[Darth Ansirrian]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVageTGZa88​

One lowly slave was busy away digging away at the sand covering up the main entrance door, toiling away the best he could. Something, however, caught his eye. A small metallic circle newly revealed on the large stone door they were busy excavating. Curiosity got the better of him, and while the Overseer's wern't looking, he gently reached out to touch it, inadvertently pushing it in, like some sort of button. A beam of light suddenly shot out from a sphere attached to the door frame, an ancient holographic emitter. A massive hologram took shape, the shape of none other than the ancient Sith Lord Darth Ansirrian himself, his robed, armored form of old proving both an inspiring and terrifying sight indeed.

The hologram began to speak, a pre-recorded message. "Ahh! The promised time has finally arrived, it seems. To those who have uncovered my tomb, I congratulate you on your success. I had thought the ancient tongue that brought you here would likely have disappeared utterly by the time this message finally played. I am glad to see some secrets of the Sith have not been lost in my absence. You stand before Darth Ansirrian, Scion of the Dark Council and a Dark Lord of the Sith. Within my tomb, you will find something wondrous. My greatest work. I shall not reveal what, however. It would....spoil the suprise. I warn you, however, the contents of my tomb are not easily accessible. You will face a single test. A simple one, yet incredibly deadly. Pass, and my greatest secret shall be unveiled. Fail, and...well, I'm sure other seekers of knowledge will come after you. I wish you good luck......you will need it.", the hologram said, politely nodding it's head before disappearing, the stone door of the tomb suddenly raising to reveal the darkened halls within....

[member="Darth Ferus"]
[member="Cairyn Midore"]
[member="Natassia Traxen"]
[member="Serixibis"]
[member="Darth Sibilus"]
[member="Mythos"]

 

[Darth Chagrin]

Dreek had periodically watched the excavation effort from its inception in silence, an endeavour borne out over three weeks. Another dead Sith Lord's tomb. More treasures, more dangers. More death. The story of Korriban, really. But it was one Dreek was interested in. He wanted to see what kind of legacy a great Lord of the Sith might leave behind... or what lies could be told about it.

A group of acolytes had been preparing to go into the tomb for a certain Darth Sibilus, but Dreek supposed they might just have to be disappointed that they wouldn't be the ones finding anything today. How unfortunate for them, should Sibilus be anything like most Sith masters. Assuming he had been leading the rest of the dig, that was probably the case judging by the collection of slave corpses in the site. But the misfortunes of others did not concern Dreek; if they had, he would not have gotten to where he was today.

Ears prickling, he observed the holographic message triggered by one of the clueless slaves. Of interest was the image of Darth Ansirrian himself, who had manifested to proclaim his legacy and beckon the curious forward. Unfortunately nothing he said was of substance — any half-intelligent humanoid with a decent understanding of the nature of Sith tombs would surely have already known that dangerous tests were a necessity for determining who was worthy of putting their hands on whatever treasures lay within. "Simple, yet incredibly deadly" summed up the life of the Sith anyway.

The stone door unlocked itself, and Dreek continued to wait in the distance, having ensured his presence both physical and in the Force were minimal. He wanted these acolytes to go in first, simply to trigger the first layer of traps that the tomb might've held. And he wasn't the only one. Dreek could see — and feel — someone else (Vahliath Imperious) sharing his patience here in the distance, a possibly worthy competitor quietly biding his time as he devised his own plans. Patience, yes... patience was a virtue in these situations. If Darth Ansirrian had waited millennia for someone to uncover his secrets, Dreek could wait a few moments longer before he initiated his own quest to be that one. He remained still in his squat, holding the patience of stone as he wondered what might lie in the tomb's depths...

Darth Ferus
Cairyn Midore
Natassia Traxen
Serixibis
Darth Sibilus
Mythos

 

[NT-6922]

Natassia felt a shiver running down her spine as [member="Darth Ferus"] emerged from her blind spot and stepped up besides her, his words sending her into a fit of anxiety. Did he know? Could the Sith read people's thoughts? For all she knew, the power of those who used the Dark Side of the Force could be nigh-unlimited, depending on the people. Still, she had a reply to give, despite the fact she was not paid to talk.
"A few weeks earlier, I'd have dismissed it as cruelty for the sake of cruelty", answered the Bounty Hunter quietly. "But looking at what I am now... what's the difference? Your code applies to me as much as it applies to these Acolytes. The strong thrive, and the weak are subjugated and used until their inescapable end. Still, some of the things you do are terribly inefficient compared to other alternatives."

With that, they were interrupted as a hologram of the ancient Sith Lord Darth Ansirrian came to "life", giving his pre-recorded message to the curious expedition force. As it ended, she grunted and verified her oxygen level: should the air become too poisonous for her filter to work, she would have a few hours of autonomy left in air supply, which she hoped would be enough to finish the mission. Turning her gaze toward the Acolytes, she still felt a pang of guilt as she realized that some of them would be probably used as little more than a way to trigger traps and die instead of their masters.
"What are we waiting for?" she finally said after some time, intending to see for herself if the legendary short temper of Sith Lords was just a myth or a reality.

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Drios' watchful eye tracked the Sith Pureblood, and his vigilant ears caught snippets of conversations from inferior subjects, which he mostly dismissed with a roll of his eyes. Easing the Pureblood out of her nervousness, Drios returned her pleasantries with surprising openness and respect for the young lady, and his tone was light yet formal and serious. However, Cairn's childlike pleas fell upon deaf ears, the only indication of any attention being given to the Teevan was a pitiful glance.

"Excellent work, prep-" Darth Siblilus' sentence was severed in two by the sudden eruption of a holographic figure, bathing the digsite and the Sith surrounding it in a bloody red haze as the audio bellowed out from the figure. Slowly, he stepped down from his perch and folded his arms, utterly unimpressed. "To be expected." he scoffed, either to himself or to the people around him.

In that moment, Darth Sibilus made up his mind; he would delve into the tomb itself and discover its secrets, for something told him that many of the acolytes assembled around him were not up to the task and the spoils would be lost to another dig team. Without haste, the Sith Lord yanked Cairyn's chain and the two strode over to the entrance which had since opened itself and revealed the dusty doom within and peered into the darkness.

On his heel he turned, and looked to the acolytes who had gathered around. Quickly, he got to the point and his speech began. "Within those walls shall be a great number of challenges, each and every one of them more frightful and more devilish than the last, designed to evoke fear and confusion with you. Use these emotions to your advantage, and claim the treasures within for yourselves, and if you discover anything... abnormal, alert me immediately." Darth Sibilus' voice dissipated into the distance, bouncing off the valley walls like a rock being flung from afar. "Enter." he finished, taking a moment to step aside and count the number of acolytes which hopped to their deaths within the chasm.

With a wave of his mighty hand, the collar around Cairyn's neck were released and he dropped the chain with a loud thud and plume of dust to the ground. Without a word, he motioned for the Teevan to follow the Acolytes.

Spoiler: Tags

[member="Darth Ansirrian"] [member="Mythos"] [member="Serixibis"] [member="Natassia Traxen"] [member="Cairyn Midore"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Dreek Xretissirr"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Ignored, he gave an annoyed huff before promptly ignoring both Drios and the hologram. Instead, he focused on the little creature he caught sight of. A Tuk'ata youth might not have been the most appealing to the general populace. Cairyn, however, was temporarily head over heels for the creature. Whether he was aware of it or not, he found himself reaching out to the creature, projecting his own sense of wonder to the little beast, encouraging the little guy to view him as a friend over a stranger. Why are you alone lil guy? Someone kill your family? Don't worry, we'll hunt them down and play with them later.

His little bonding moment temporarily interrupted, he cast a glare at the Epicanthix as he yanked on the chain, both metaphorically and physically. Here he was, trying to have fun and Drios had to go and ruin it. And for what? Standing in front of an entrance? To say he was unhappy about it would be a bit of an understatement, the boy plopping down to the ground with another huff, interrupted by a wince of pain as the drop was a bit too much for the collar. Sitting with his neck craned, he grabbed handfuls of sand, vacantly letting them run through his fingers, paying little mind to what everyone else was doing. His mind wandered back to the Tuk'ata, continuing his work in getting the poor thing to trust him. He couldn't understand people for the life of him but animals? They just seemed to click.

Before he knew it, the speech was over and he was back on his feet, not without a little exclamation of protest when Drios moved a bit too soon to account for the collar's reach. Geez, the hunk metal was annoying. He'd soon find some sort of reprieve, collar and chain clattering to the ground. While Drios was fairly clear in his direction, indicating Cairyn follow the acolytes in whatever death trap or mission they had been given (he'd honestly stopped paying attention), the boy elected to temporarily ignore the command. Making eye contact with the Sith almost the entire time, he strode past Drios, stopping just short of the Tuk'ata. Kneeling, he focussed once more on the creature, reaching out to it both physically and through the force, coaxing the youth into crawling into his arms.

The horned creature was quite cute, especially as its claws dug into his armor, its jaw clamping down on his arm in such a way only Cairyn would find endearing. "I'm gonna call you Riadle," he mused, petting the creature. With it still gnawing on his Orbalisk-covered forearm, he stood, once again making eye contact with Drios as he made his way back to the cave. "I made a friend." Came his proud announcement, followed by a much quieter snide remark. "I'd like to see you do the same."

[member="Darth Ansirrian"] | [member="Darth Sibilus"] | [member="Natassia Traxen"] | [member="Dreek Xretissirr"] | [member="Darth Ferus"] | [member="Serixibis"] | [member="Mythos"]​

 

[Serixibis]

Serixibis bows to Darth Sibilus as she is acknowledged, her vibro-lance crackling as a wave of static washes over the dig-site. In an instant the Pureblood is in motion, her lance leveled at the crimson figure that had appeared above them all. As it's message is delivered and the other more traveled members of the expedition make no move to engage it Serixibis relaxes...slightly. Her gloved fingers tight around the worn handle of her lance as the weapon is shouldered and she stalks over to the main group of Acolytes, taking a longer route around and passing briefly beside Natassia and Darth Ferus. To the first she offers only a casual once-over, to the latter a dip of her head in a show of modest respect.

"Darth Ferus, your presence empowers us all. And ~you~, Mercenary. Darth Sibilus will likely wish for you to accompany the Acolytes in the first group down. Make yourself ready."

Without another word, or pause given for Natassia to respond Serixibis slithers toward toward the now open tomb. Her lance is raised briefly toward the gaggle of Acolytes as she directs the mass of bodies toward the entrance. Her hands clap against the rough stone ledge around the opening to the tomb as she vaults over and into the inky blackness. There's no immediate screaming or cries of alarm from the Acolyte, instead the dim glow of a chemical lamp can be seen as it is activated and set on the first step downward.

 

[NT-6922]

Natassia was fuming. Not only did this Acolyte have the nerve to walk up to her and order her around like she owned her, but she did it with such disdain that her blood boiled and irrational anger clouded her mind. If a Master had done so, she wouldn't mind as much, knowing that they were pretty much her employers - and capable of frying her in an instant. But an Acolyte?
Furious, she left [member="Darth Ferus"] behind after a respectful (although rigid) nod and followed her, desiring to see her demise firsthand: if this temple was as trapped as the rest of the expedition force thought it was, she would take great satisfaction in seeing her crushed under a wall of spikes. The nerve of that one!

Still, she bit back at her anger and forced herself to run through tactical steps: her helmet's integrated nightvision would be quite useful, but she was paid to assist the Sith, not just tag along, and so she activated the pair of powerful flashlights on her helmet before raising her rifle, feeling quite tense.
"How old is this place?" she spoke quietly, partly to [member="Serixibis"] , but mostly to herself. "Doesn't look like anything I've seen before, and I've been in my fair share of tombs, temples and what-not."

 

[Serixibis]

Serixibis tensed up as something approached her from behind, reaching out with the force as best she could the new arrival is probed and poked at...

...Oh yeah. She mad.

Serixibis allows herself a small moment to observe the surface emotions of Natassia, mental fingers poking at the smoldering embers of her rage as the lights on the Mercenary's helmet peel back the inky blackness of the tomb. With a light tug at her tight-fitting tunic Serixibis moves to the side, to permit the armored bulk of Natassia to pass and take the lead.

"How old? Several thousand years at least. This tomb is a relic of an age before ages, even if it is empty."

 

[Darth Ferus]

A deep sigh escaped the elder Lord as he watched the exchange between [member="Serixibis"] and [member="Natassia Traxen"] . Perhaps one day they would be the best of friends. Or, and the more likely alternative, one would be a corpse at the feet of the other. Casually he moved with them, completely intending to join the Acolytes at the forefront. A simple nod was given to [member="Darth Sibilus"] as he stepped by. The tapping of his cane continued as he went, the ever present reminder of his company.

"It would be unwise to assume this tomb empty. It has never before been breached, meaning a number of creatures, servants, and traps of the Lord who rests here are still prevalent. Keep your eyes forward, and your ears open. I happen to like both of your company and would rather you not end up dead."

 

[Darth Ansirrian]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jj-CYfaEmrM​

As the group entered the darkened halls of Ansirrian's tomb via the large newly opened entrance, they quickly found themselves in a long hallway, the walls on both sides decorated with carvings depicting the life of Darth Ansirrian and his rise to power, as well as a summary of historical events which unfolded during the Great Galactic War, and the beginnings of the conflict with Zakuul. To the scholarly who were paying attention, they might notice the total and strange lack of any detail regarding Ansirrian's final fate, the timeline presented cutting out just at the start of the conflict with the Eternal Empire.

They would eventually find themselves in a large circular chamber, an arena of sorts, with another large stone gate with a holoemitter in the frame like before just on the other side of the chamber. Another hologram of Darth Ansirrian quickly sprang to life, lighting the dark chamber up rather well. "So you decided to accept my challenge? Excellent. To learn my ultimate secret, you must face a trial of martial strength. Three tests to prove you are worthy of what awaits behind this door. Your first test will begin now. All droid units, activation code Malgus.", the hologram said, still remaining activated, as if prepared to watch the coming battle.

Several openings in the ceiling of the chamber suddenly appeared, before at least a dozen HK-51 units quickly repelled down into the chamber, assuming defensive positions. One amongst their number spoke, rather bluntly. "Interjection: Die, meatbags!", before they began to open fire!

[member="Darth Ferus"]
[member="Serixibis"]
[member="Natassia Traxen"]
[member="Cairyn Midore"]
[member="Darth Sibilus"]
[member="Dreek Xretissirr"]

 

[guest.224]

Maybe it was more than just coincidence that Dreek’s assumption was accurate. A will of the Force, whispering answers in his head. Cautious was he: the Sith with white hair, his frame blanketed in a heavy sheet of fabric which previously protected him amidst winds and sandstorms alike during their venture to the tombs. Come their arrival to the tomb, his hood had long been descended down behind his shoulders, allowing hazel eyes to pry over the ancient walls of old. If only walls could talk; Vahliath would have no need to go further.

For now - he actually didn't. He lingered behind - intentionally. Unbeknown to the Sith which adopted the same mindset as him, Vahliath stood afar in an almost everlasting patience, just waiting for something unfortunate to happen. To be analytical was to be cautious, and to be cautious was to be safe. Prevent death from any old-world relics which might have triggered under the first sign of pressure - or worse: the first signs of the Force rekindling within the cavern walls. Fortunately for all of them, fate had yet to reap the lives of curious minds venturing a place considered holy to some, and cursed to others. Fate still played its hand, however, whispering in Vahliath's ear and mind alike through the Force. It was a weight, heavy and distinct, which almost encouraged him to bow his head involuntarily as he observed the crowd ahead of him. It pulled his hazel gaze behind him, peering behind his right shoulder to bask upon the source of that unnatural breach within his mind. It came in the form of a Sith, who like him, lingered behind for reasons currently unknown to Vahliath. He suspected it was out of caution (or was it involuntary insight?) like himself, uncertain of what laid ahead. That alone was enough for Vahliath to turn his attention to the Sith, turning his frame to avoid cranking his neck through a prolonged an awkward stare.

"You're cautious yourself - aren't you?" Vahliath questioned to the Sith, although his lilt insisted he already knew the answer. At least it broke the silence between them.

[member="Dreek Xretissirr"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

As the figure out of place among the Acolytes the Sith Lord represented his station well. While the young around him began to panic and act he continued walking forward. He payed little mind to the droids [member="Darth Ansirrian"] 's holocrom sent their way. Yet as he stepped the shots around him seemed as if they should have it to the discerning eye. Yes, a closer look showed his form subtly shifting and turning. The Force whispered in his ear, giving him enough clarity to step by unarmed.

Rather then turn to deal with them he left it to the younger folks. It would be their duty to kill the threats.

[member="Serixibis"] [member="Natassia Traxen"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Once again opting to ignore Cairyn, Drios descended into the tomb after his unwilling disciple with a nonchalant glance at the little storyboard on the walls. Long strides quickly brought the Sith Lord from the hallway and rendezvoused with the group just as Darth Ansirrian's holocron completed its monologue. Once again unimpressed, he took inspiration from Krest and allowed the aspirants to deal with his guardians.

The Force guided him, and amplified by the dark aura of the tomb it heightened his precognition and as such he could predict accurately the trajectory of every beam of energy fired from the blasters. Finding a rather safe point, he melted into the shadows and folded up his cloak and cowl placing them onto the ground to be recovered or left should they need to make a hasty mistake.

Beneath the cloak was an expensive looking set of robes, with an ebon undertunic and a deep crimson overtunic. Around his middle was a large, fabric belt and a simpler leather utility belt to which his lightsaber and several miscellaneous supplies were attached. The sleeves were tapered, and allowed for free movement as should he find himself engaged in combat deeper in the tomb, he would be damned if some fabric would hinder his prowess with a blade. Beneath his tunic was a pair of black, fabric trousers and large, rancor leather boots.

Slipping into the image of a curious observer, Darth Sibilus began to watch the acolytes with interest from his shadowy concealment. His eyes would search for Cairyn, eager to see how he would handle himself faced with angry cyborgs, but it wouldn't have surprised him if the Teevan had just walked back out of the tomb.

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Vahliath Imperious "][member="Darth Ansirrian"] [member="Serixibis"] [member="Natassia Traxen"] [member="Cairyn Midore"] [member="Dreek Xretissirr"]