The Shadows of Lords

[Neesa]

[member="Korog Zordaal"]

ESSION

It hadn't even decayed, Neesa reflected. In a handful of years nature had started to reclaim some of temple, but it was mostly in tact. They had called themselves Jedi Lords. They had gathered their strength here and started a campaign to assault the One Sith and destroy them.

By all accounts they had mostly died in the field trying the achieve that goal. Long before the Sith had started to fracture and the plucky Alliance had rallied around Sullust. The same place the Alliance had originally amassed its fleet before attacking the second death star.

There were still machines in there apparently. Traps and security systems. They would be a challenge. She needed to stay light, understand what was worth taking and what wasn't. To that end, she had brought in an off world expert.

 

[Korog Zordaal]

To that end, [member="Neesa"] had cast a very accurate net to absorb the tall Muun in to her company. But she may indeed find weak ground to stand on, when it came to traveling light. From the finest of riches to the darkest of toys. The very dust itself.

Everything was important!

At least to an adroit mind that suffered from an obsessive hunger, it's voracity such that even the terribly grotesque--and astronomically round----[member="Darth Voracitos"] would find himself scarcely able consume it down to it's deepest depths. Korog Zordaal paused a moment, recalling an image of His Royal Rotundness, The Lard Liege of Lorrd, Count Chubby, Prince Plump, His Most Burly Baron of Beef.

Then, suddenly, a stomach churning gag curled off from tongue as sputum and retch. It splat sickeningly over the ground below, the Suet of Spew that turned to mud in the dirt.

Yes, yes that's exactly how fondly he regarded this particular Sith Superior. Of course he had only just recently began his research of the man. Perhaps, disregarding the foul injustice that the Sultan of Stout administered upon the eyes of his associates--or victims---he may indeed be a very intriguing article. We'd see.

But wait,

oh yes. . .

The Munn, traveling under his alias Zyor Blacksky, had arrived on the planet of Ession some weeks prior to this invitation. Seemingly the divine will of The Force. He'd been renting locally, but hadn't yet pushed off for the Ruins quite yet. Instead he'd been holed up in dingy light amidst a stack of seven hundred and ninety-three books about the Esoteric Rise of Cults that had stretched back well before the rise of either the Sith, or the Jedi. Quite fascinating reads, really. He hoped he wouldn't have to exact his power over the poor bookkeeper, perhaps she wasn't aware of the value of bound books on the History of this disc. It remained to be seen if she would willingly part with them.

At least, he hadn't witnessed it in any vision thus yet, but he would reflect further, he supposed.

Ah, wait. He nearly forgot as he had continued onward down the path after the moments distraction, the Vomit of Voracitos, he'd take that. Slithering backwards from whence he came, Korog hung his gangling form lowly, scraping a nice, viscous helping, of his disgorged stomach from the ground. Nothing was useless!

 

[Neesa]

[member="Korog Zordaal"]

Educated. That was how her master had described the contact. Neesa didn't really understand that the word could be used to describe someone with a great deal of education. If you described someone as scarred it could mean one scar or an entire body of raw tissue. Neesa didn't quite follow, but then her education had consisted of learning from ancient sith tomes on the practical applications of sorcery and a great deal more on a few hundred ways to kill.

She was Lord Sitas' Shadow Hand, but most now understood he was her pale assassin. From just off the beaten trail she looked over the temple. She saw no signs of motion, no lights. If it was still protected perhaps the guardians were dormant.

Hearing a sound from the path she slipped down from the rock and meandered back to it. Someone fitting the description was walking along.

"Blacksky?" She called. She wore a travelling cloak of deep browns and greys. Not an obvious camouflage but the broken colours would leave her almost invisible in the dark undergrowth. That was until she pulled back her hood. Even the dull evening light caught her alabaster skin.

 

[Korog Zordaal]

"Ah!" Korog sang in loud utterance, whipping around briskly towards the intruding voice. "My Dear, " His pitch were enough to make one squint and shiver in repulsion. A voice only the deaf could appreciate. "Is that [member="Neesa"]?! Show yourself!" His performance was worthy of the finest Galactic Drama.

There on the trail, bleeding from the open vein of shadow that had clutched her young, cloak shrouded frame, the young Sith emerged; skin as pallid as his own.

Korog, twisting a lock seal closed on his sample slide, the heave of his stomach oozing out as the tracks wind shut, silently stashed the malodorous liquid within an inner pocket of his ill-fitting cloak.

"I must say, you're of a much more slender age than I conceived of." He began, tucking his cloak more neatly around his luridly thin body as he approached with two long, sure-footed steps. "Zyor Blacksky, yes." He wasn't ready, yet, to reveal his actual identity.

As he beheld her ashen features, a frail smile curled those thin lips of his, revealing pointed teeth and a small stab of red tongue. He towered over the young girl, standing over seven feet in height, but beholden of a weight that left him appearing frail, and ghastly.

"Yes, Nagai, hmm?" He inquired, the white dot of his black eyes departing her gaze momentarily while he peered through the thick brush and jungle vines from whence the girl had came. "And, your first expedition, no?"

He definitely was of an odd sort, educated and eccentric.

"These places, they can. . . change you. . if one is not prepared." He would softly warn, if only to appraise the look within her eyes, as his gaze returned down upon her.

 

[Neesa]

[member="Korog Zordaal"]

Neesa gave a half-bow from the waist. Unkempt strands of black hair fell forwards before being pushed back under her cowl. He wasn’t exactly what she had expected. Then again, she hadn’t really held any kind of expectation in her mind to begin with. She didn’t like standing close to him anyway; she’d likely end up with a sore neck before long.

“Young, but I’m told I’m a quick study,” she replied. “I tend to keep to more fundamental studies of sorcery and the Force. This is my first expedition I suppose.”

She turned her eyes towards the temple. “Not an old one to start with I suppose. Apparently this was all recent history. A group of powerful Jedi determined to change the Galaxy. Yet they fell at the second hurdle and left this all behind.”

She turned back towards Zyor, the moonlight caught her pale skin once more. “I am told I am a nagai yes,” she replied. A curious expression found its way onto her features. “But I’ve never met another of my kind.” The implication of that statement was obvious: she had never met her parents.

“And how would you prepare for this?” she asked.

 

[Korog Zordaal]

Loose and slender of age, brisk of wit and study. They were enough to sell Korog, that was, even though in the reality of their situation, she might likely have been, a more accomplished and far better trained individual; if the two were to be judged side by side. However, the skyward lank of the Muun could not be underestimated. Scholar, Historian, Alchemist and perhaps a budding Sorcerer himself - if such Sorcery inflict better yield upon his experiments or creations, that was.

But neither here, nor there, or quite around anywhere did that matter. There they stood. Nagai and Muun, and odd couple of greatly disproportional size. For a moment, gazing off dreamily upon the Temple that portend from shadow and jungle, Zyor Blacksky feigned momentary distress, lobbing look left, then right, before down.

"Oh, oh yes. . . [member="Neesa"], your kind. They, well, they have a certain edge to them. " That raspy voice was so coarse upon the ears. "Alas, I've not been summoned, we both know, to comb and scour for a Mommy and Daddy. . . " Oh yes, Korog caught that, never could one find him asleep when it came to fishing out the most minute details. With his words he prod the girl, just to gauge her temperament.

With one arm, leaning aside her body, the left side, he used his forearm to elevate a large, prickly, jungle frond. Giving the much shorter girl a portal through which she could duck under, it was time for them to be on their way.

"Oh my, dear, dear [member="Neesa"]. Old or new, ancient, fresh, even were they still under construction. Temple's are dangerous ground. Rule Number One, you ask of me, Zyor Blacksky?" He abrade her with syllables, luckily the height difference hid the stench of vomit that still cling upon tongue and cheek. "Never, not ever, must you give in to astonishment. . . ." A chuckle exhaled, "Come come, on your way, friend."

 

[Neesa]

[member="Korog Zordaal"]

If there was a method to probe to find Neesa's frailties, he wasn't going to find it going down the route of her parents. She was quite practical in that regard; she hadn't met them and therefore they didn't matter. Neesa had met a lot of different people in her relatively short life. She'd killed quite a few of them. One might have found the fact that the girl knew those she ended up dispatching perhaps better than any others as a rather distressing fact. It wasn't that she didn't want to build closer ties to people, they simply didn't happen.

Even so the muun was quite different. She couldn't quite gauge his behaviour, get a read on his intentions. She hadn't actually met an academic so focused on his work that everything else was simply a secondary concern before. She could follow the motivation of knowledge for the sake of power, but not for its own benefit. In some ways the girl was worldly, in others hopelessly naive.

She ducked under the vines and headed down towards the temple. There was a more clear path not far from them, but there was no need to approach the building out in the open. Neither of them knew what might remain within its walls.

 

[Korog Zordaal]

Antiquity.

As they submerged deeper in to the tangled sea of limb, vine and tree. Words began pressing towards [member="Neesa"]'s mind. Naught harm, nor forthright. Subliminal, quiet, placid. Korog tested only to see if he could penetrate the subconscious, if he could gorge himself upon the brainwaves that fed her plenty of portion for life and all of it's functions.

Ancient.

The Muun of stately stature pressed from over the girls left shoulder with his arm, rotating it out and away from them, unburdening the path before them from the hindrance of hanging vegetation, his stride easily placing him at an almost uncomfortable distance close upon her back.

History.

"So you are well-studied of this World, young explorer?" Korog questioned from somewhere above her head, his cloak snarling and coughing as it tore against rigid barbs and vicious thorns, it's excessive sag shielding his diminutive frame from slash and prick, quite well. "Sure, you know. . . " He pressed a palm upon the back of her neck, his fingers, of a rather frightening length, they could stretch nearly the entire round of her nape.

Pakkerd Light Transport.

He continued to pressure the fastened vault that was her mind.

Sienar Fleet Systems, Industrial, TIE Fighters. . . Bombs. . explosion. . . destruction.

Would she feed from him, or was the attempt left to starve adrift famine and drought. Sure, he could have just spoke out at the girl, he could have been forward with her. But he needed to know, he needed to learn. She was his experiment, and the Temple would be the reward. Of course, that would also be a test, for both he and her.

"Are the words, " He paused once more, using his slender hip to bend aside a thickly wrought branch, "not on the tip. . . of your tongue?" The branch snapped back, whooshing air with the shrill shiver of thick jungle leaves.

Would she play his game, or tow him on through the clearing that unfolded afore them as the edge of the jungle foliage melted away, and the Temple greedily consumed entire view? Something dark, something. . . sinister, so strong, was radiating from it's insides. Even Korog had to pause, quiet his vast mind, and pay heed. Black eyes drowning below the swell of stone and mortar. Wow.

 

[Neesa]

[member="Korog Zordaal"]

Neesa noticed nothing more untoward than the warmth of his hand on the back of her neck. Her focus had turned towards the temple. "It's only around five years or so... since they left..." she muttered. There was something within the temple, but her senses were telling her to turn back, to leave the place to be reclaimed by nature. She gave a curt shake of her head and her attention snapped back to the present.

Why had he placed a hand upon her? the thought struck her suddenly. Two quick strides and she put a couple of metres between them. The muun was exceptionally strange. She couldn't help but feel he was filling the space with words just for his own amusement. He had asked her something before she had become distracted by what she felt ahead.

"Only a little. Exiled Jedi and strange aliens reconvened her to rebuild and to launch an assault on the One Sith. Apparently they were nearly entirely wiped out at the battle of Kashyyk and those still in the temple left shortly after."

There was an insistent warning, an itch at the back of her mind. She attributed it to the Force trying to warn her off her current course.