Mirra Voss
Too weird to live, too rare to die!
(OC: Minimal OC note - Now closed to Dark Jedi!)
From the surface of Torivan XIII it's primary star is little more than another dot among the myriad of other stars in the night. The tiny icebound planet should be nothing more than one more rock dancing in the endless galactic ballet, barely even worthy of notice on an astrogation chart. Only planetary outgassings and an exceptionally volatile core give it heat and an atmosphere at all - and in a few tens of thousands of years, that thin shell of air will have boiled away entirely.
But there is more to this lifeless ball of rock than might meet the eye - or other senses - jutting from the surface of the lone mountain in the northern hemisphere of the rock is a sharp sliver of ice and black marble, a needle plunging into the planets heart as if it seeks to wound it. Architecture ancient when the Sith Empire was young is coated by layers of rock and broken by meteor impacts, yet it still stands - a festering and malignant cancer upon the world and the galaxy at large.
Someone approaching close to this structure might see the runes that engrave the surface, hiding the presence of the dark energy nexus that lies deep beneath the planet. It is this nexus that makes Torivan XIII more than unremarkable, it is this nexus of dark power that has been tapped by this bizarre fortress of alchemy and magic so as to grant long-dead tyrants the power to build, warp and command machine armies such as might challenge even the mightiest of Empires.
The builders of this place sought to harness the then newly discovered art of Mechu-duru, to combine it with forbidden alchemies and to pioneer a new artform for the Sith. They wished to be undisturbed, so they sought out this ancient rock and the terrors that slept at it's heart, bound those terrors, channeled them, built atrocity on atrocity to power their dark designs.
How they came to an end, no one knows...
But now, it lies dead and dormant. The seals on it's great doors cut open by the obvious marks of lightsaber strikes, an ancient YV-664 freighter sat a few hundred meters from the entrance, not quite rusting, but trapped beneath nigh on eight centuries of ice, rock, ruin and rubble. The footprints of two individuals still clear in the ice and snow as they make their way from the freighter to the ancient and evil structure.
And as hidden as it is, as warded as it is, as protected by ancient and lethal defenses as it is, those sensitive to the Force - brought here not by chance but by design, might just sense two deeply slumbering alien minds at the heart of the ancient structure, minds strong in the force yet hidden by their mutual antagonism - one bright, one dark and further cloaked by the powerful wards hiding the dark nature of this place from any who might come looking with anything but their own eyes.
Torivan XIII
Wild Space
From the surface of Torivan XIII it's primary star is little more than another dot among the myriad of other stars in the night. The tiny icebound planet should be nothing more than one more rock dancing in the endless galactic ballet, barely even worthy of notice on an astrogation chart. Only planetary outgassings and an exceptionally volatile core give it heat and an atmosphere at all - and in a few tens of thousands of years, that thin shell of air will have boiled away entirely.
But there is more to this lifeless ball of rock than might meet the eye - or other senses - jutting from the surface of the lone mountain in the northern hemisphere of the rock is a sharp sliver of ice and black marble, a needle plunging into the planets heart as if it seeks to wound it. Architecture ancient when the Sith Empire was young is coated by layers of rock and broken by meteor impacts, yet it still stands - a festering and malignant cancer upon the world and the galaxy at large.
Someone approaching close to this structure might see the runes that engrave the surface, hiding the presence of the dark energy nexus that lies deep beneath the planet. It is this nexus that makes Torivan XIII more than unremarkable, it is this nexus of dark power that has been tapped by this bizarre fortress of alchemy and magic so as to grant long-dead tyrants the power to build, warp and command machine armies such as might challenge even the mightiest of Empires.
The builders of this place sought to harness the then newly discovered art of Mechu-duru, to combine it with forbidden alchemies and to pioneer a new artform for the Sith. They wished to be undisturbed, so they sought out this ancient rock and the terrors that slept at it's heart, bound those terrors, channeled them, built atrocity on atrocity to power their dark designs.
How they came to an end, no one knows...
But now, it lies dead and dormant. The seals on it's great doors cut open by the obvious marks of lightsaber strikes, an ancient YV-664 freighter sat a few hundred meters from the entrance, not quite rusting, but trapped beneath nigh on eight centuries of ice, rock, ruin and rubble. The footprints of two individuals still clear in the ice and snow as they make their way from the freighter to the ancient and evil structure.
And as hidden as it is, as warded as it is, as protected by ancient and lethal defenses as it is, those sensitive to the Force - brought here not by chance but by design, might just sense two deeply slumbering alien minds at the heart of the ancient structure, minds strong in the force yet hidden by their mutual antagonism - one bright, one dark and further cloaked by the powerful wards hiding the dark nature of this place from any who might come looking with anything but their own eyes.
