Private Those Who Have Lost Their Way

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



The tomb swallowed light as though it had never known it.

Malachor's stone corridors pressed in with a silence so total that even breath seemed to betray its weight. Darth Virelia moved through it like a blade drawn in slow, inevitable arcs. Her armor whispered with each step, metal against stone, the faint glow of violet circuitry bleeding through carved glyphs whose meanings had rotted away centuries ago. Dust clung to every seam, ancient particles disturbed for the first time in millennia.

She was not here to admire the grave. She was here to claim what it refused to give.

Every surface of the tomb bore scars. Columns split by old weapon strikes, murals shattered into slivers, stairways collapsed into yawning abysses. The war that had once ended civilizations had burned itself into the bones of this place. And yet, beneath the ruin, something lived. She could feel it—like a hand brushing across her throat. The Dark Side pooled here in veins so deep they hummed against her senses. It was not the passive malice of Malachor's surface storms. This was active, deliberate. Waiting.

Her gauntleted fingers traced the edge of a monolithic sarcophagus. The stone was black-veined, slick as oil, carved with symbols she only half recognized. Sith script. Rakatan influence. Something older still. She let her hand linger, absorbing the pulse beneath the cold exterior. Her lips parted, voice low but cutting the silence like a ritual blade:

"Secrets are useless in the dark. You will be mine."

The tomb gave no answer. But she knew it listened.

Down another corridor, the walls began to change. Smooth stone gave way to jagged protrusions, spikes of obsidian that seemed to grow inward, curling like claws. The Force whispered louder here, visions threading into her mind: warriors kneeling, screaming, their flesh undone in ritual; chains binding necks and wrists; a single figure rising above them all, crowned in crimson light. Virelia drank it in, not resisting. Pain was an inheritance. Dominion was the only truth worth worship.

She descended further, boots ringing on fractured steps. Each level down stripped more of the world away until even the echo of her own presence felt smothered. The Dark Side was thick enough to choke on. It coiled through her veins like venom, delicious and suffocating at once. A lesser seeker would have turned back. That thought almost amused her.

Ahead lay a final chamber, sealed by an obsidian door cracked by time but still defiant. She raised her hand, violet sparks crawling over her fingers, lightning licking the air with the sound of tearing silk. The crack widened under her will. Dust and cold air rushed out, carrying with it the smell of rust, bone, and something sweeter—incense burned centuries past but never quite gone.

Virelia stepped through. The chamber yawned wide, cavernous, filled with half-buried relics and shattered statues. At its heart, something glowed faintly beneath a layer of ash and stone. She moved closer, eyes catching the shimmer.

And then—

Footsteps.

Not hers.

They echoed from behind, measured, deliberate.

 

[weirwooddream]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


Nal Hutta was a bastion of criminality. The haven of syndicates, potential clientele and their frequent hearsay. Yet, this time around, it had been more akin to a cautionary tale, of how the greedy will always succumb to forces beyond control. For the adventurous souls who perused out to the planet, searching for riches, wound up mad or... a distant memory as they lay foot on its surface. Some more seasoned men mentioned how darkness itself had consumed the planet whole, and that only violence rampaged within its atmosphere. A promise of destruction reiterated from many lips.

Curiosity was a fool's ally, her mentor had always preached. Forcing Soliane to always obey his every word, his command, for the sake of the contract and for their lives themselves. Now, left on her own, such obeisance faltered as only the desire to discover, to thrive, burned bright within her youthful soul. So whilst her ship trembled and shook as it crossed the violent storms lingering on Malachor's obscure surface, she pressed on, searching these riches oft-spoken of.

Yet one would be a fool to deny the heaviness upon the heart once she set foot on it. As if breathing itself was tinged with hatred, with this persisting agony. As if a thousand people weighed down on a single one. Soliane put on a breathing mask and took her bag, checking whether her scanner and tools were still occupying it, before heading towards the distant ruin.

Each second on this planet, appeared like one too many, yet she refused to falter like her rivals had done before. Entering the dusty passage leading into an intricate system of tombs, that forced her scanner to hum in accordance. Yet it acted sporadically, shifting between detecting a nearer energy source and one more distant. It made Soliane stop in her tracks, and quietly grab her blaster from her pouch and placing it on her hip in preparation.

Whilst the tombs she had faced before with her mentor, Jado, had been deep and riddled with false walls and traps, this one was open... Had it been looted already? Then the smuggler's tales had been incorrect, and riches had long been taken by their predecessors. Sol let out an annoyed noise and kicked down her foot on the stone floor, before defeatedly moving ahead in the tomb.

It did not take her long to find the key behind the open doors and 'defused' traps. A single armoured figure, much taller than she was, a threat... Her scanner started to beep as the door opened, vibrating in her bag, whilst Sol kept her eyes on the stranger. Swiftly reaching out for her blaster pistol before aiming it with shaky hands at the foreigner. "Don't move! I won't hesitate to fire-" In addition to her anxious words, she fired a round towards the wall near them. "Who- or what are you? And why are you here?" Upon every slight twitch, she reiterated those words.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



The violet glow of her armor pulsed as she turned, slow and deliberate, toward the sound of a trembling voice and the half-wild snap of a blaster report. Dust curled from the stone where the shot had struck, but Darth Virelia did not flinch. She simply let the echo die, until only the weight of silence and the faint hum of her suit remained.

Her gaze, pale and neon in the dark, found the girl framed in the tomb's entrance. A fragile silhouette dressed in false bravado, weapon leveled, hands betraying their fear with every twitch. Virelia let her lips curl into something half-smile, half-snare.

"You announce yourself with thunder, yet your heart beats like prey." Her voice carried velvet and iron, a resonance that wrapped itself around Soliane's ears, caressing as much as cutting. "I wonder, little wanderer… do you even know where you stand? Do you know what this place is?"

She stepped closer, each motion unhurried, predatory. The air shivered faintly as arcs of violet lightning played across the edges of her gauntlets, not yet unleashed, but very much alive.

"Your shot missed by choice—or by mercy. But I assure you…" Her tone softened into an almost conspiratorial whisper, as though they stood alone in some perfumed alcove instead of a tomb. "If you sought to frighten me, you will have to try harder. Fear is the first language of this world. I speak it better than most."

Her eyes flicked over the girl with the indulgence of someone savoring a rare vintage, lingering not on the weapon but on the hand that held it, on the trembling pulse at her throat. She tasted the mix of defiance and terror radiating from her like incense.

"Who am I?" She tilted her head, letting her hood shift back enough for Soliane to glimpse her sharpened features, the faint gleam of black-lacquered lips. "I am the inevitable. The reason these ruins have teeth. I am the darkness you thought was only rumor."

The blaster wavered, just slightly, and Virelia's smile widened. She let her voice drip with deliberate, licentious weight, as though every syllable pressed closer against the smuggler's skin.

"And you, child… you are standing in my shadow. So tell me, do you truly intend to kill your first goddess?"

The last word lingered, hushed but drenched in suggestion. She let the silence stretch, long enough that Soliane would hear her own breath rasp beneath the mask, long enough for doubt to coil around her trembling aim.

Then, softer, with the edge of a blade hidden under silk:

"Lower the weapon. You will not leave this place by defiance. But obedience…" Her eyes glowed brighter, violet shards in the dark. "…obedience has saved lives before. Sometimes it even makes them worth living."

Virelia did not raise her hand, did not rush. She simply stood there, commanding, inevitable, waiting to see if the girl would bow—or break.

 

[weirwooddream]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


The unknown was always a greater terror than the known. Nigh every folklore or cautionary tale was based on what may be out there, yet nothing lay guaranteed. So when the shadowed figure finally spoke, stepping from the dark to show a face, her pounding heart eased. Gradually slowing to something steadier, though still running a tinge too fast. The adrenaline within her veins continuing to run rampant as her gunhand lightly twitched every second.

"You need not lecture me on the legend of this planet. Malachor is a haunted, cursed planet with only riches and death to await one." Soliane snapped back, her Chandrilan accent lightly glimmering through her words. "I did not warn you without reason. So stay where you are. Unless, of course, you're eager to test the limits of that metal armour you don." Her snarl left her as she fired another round, right between the woman's boots. A second warning.

Her gaze flicked to the electric sparks dancing at the woman's fingertips. Just her luck, another one of them. The last one had tossed her across the cobbled streets of Epica City, left her acheing for days after. And whilst that boy had shown a certain remorse for relying on such antics, a faint sense of knowing within her heart made it clear, this one would not be so empathetic. So as the figure began to utter delusions akin to a prophet, about herself being a goddess or a destined brutality, Soliane could not help snorting and giggling frantically.

"Well 'm'lady', I am but a humble scavenger. A scoundrel in the eyes of others." She feigned dropping her guard and made an impressive theatrical curtsy to the stranger. "Do you wish of me to kneel before you and kiss your feet?" Soliane then rose to her full height once more and aimed her blaster, straight towards the figure's chest. "In that case, I must disappoint you and decline your very charming offer." Another snort left her lips as she tried to peek into the corridor behind the woman, that must be where the artefacts were stored.

"Now since negotiations are still on the table, would you be so kind as to step aside and let me handle what I came here for?" Soliane's grin made it plain that she was utterly entertained by the whole affair, not a word on her lips being serious.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



Virelia did not flinch when the bolt struck stone between her feet. The energy hissed, casting sharp shadows up her armored frame, but her stance remained unmoved. Only her head inclined slightly, as though she were appraising a child's tantrum rather than a threat. The violet light of her eyes caught the smoke rising between them, and she let a low, amused sound slip from her lips — the kind of sound that could be laugh or purr.

"Twice now you've wasted your ammunition," she murmured, voice carrying like velvet dragged over a knife. "That tells me two things. First: you are no murderer. Not yet. Second…" She tilted her head, and the faint glow of sparks traced up her gauntlet, licking across her fingers like living veins. "…you are desperate to be seen as more dangerous than you are."

Soliane's curtsy drew a sharper smile, cruel and entertained. The girl had spirit — flailing, mocking, covering fear with noise — but spirit all the same. Virelia's gaze lingered as she stepped closer, slow and unhurried, savoring the moment as if she were stalking prey too amusing to kill outright.

"Do not mistake me for one of your market-square prophets or the gutter mystics of Epica City. I am not asking you to kiss my feet." She let the words linger, her eyes fixed on the trembling line of the blaster sight pressed to her chest. "If I wanted you on your knees, you would already be there. And if I wanted your lips…" her voice dipped lower, licentious, intoxicating, "…you would not dare deny me."

The tomb seemed to bend around her presence. Dust shifted at her step. The air thickened with a subtle pulse of power that was not yet an attack, but a promise of how quickly it could become one. She stopped just outside the length of the blaster's barrel, her armor reflecting its faint blue glow, her eyes boring into Soliane's with an intensity that felt like pressure against the skin.

"You call yourself scavenger, scoundrel, thief. Titles for someone who admits she will always take what others have left behind. But do you not feel it?" Her gauntlet rose, sparks curling at her fingertips, gesturing to the yawning dark of the chamber behind her. "This place does not reward scavengers. It consumes them. You are a child rummaging in a graveyard, and yet you think to bargain?"

Her hand hovered in the air, not striking, only circling with arcs of faint violet lightning that hissed with restrained hunger. Her smile sharpened, predatory.

"You want what lies beyond me? Step forward, then. Place your faith in that trembling trigger finger, and see if your courage can match your grin. But know this—" she leaned forward, close enough for her voice to be intimate, dangerous, meant only for Soliane's ears— "If you aim to disappoint me, little one, you will not be remembered as scoundrel or scavenger. You will be remembered only as a scream swallowed by stone."

She straightened, unhurried, and extended her free hand as if inviting Soliane to try.

"Decide. Will you be amusing… or useful?"

 

[weirwooddream]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


Peculiarity was common in a vast galaxy with limitless cultures and peoples, a defining bit of silver lining across the strangers she had yet encountered. Each with their own pathetic ideas and imagery for how others may be permitted to act. So when this one sparked more authoritarian views , as if freedom was a mercy at her hand, it was not too appaling. Though whilst Soliane had never pictured herself as the brightest star among her kind, she would not be blind to the power which lay at the figure's fingertips. Crackling with a certain foreboding promise of destruction, should Sol not be inclined to kneel or bend to their cursed will. "I have shot people before, mostly rivals and people who would not get out of my way." She pathetically defended herself, like a Nexu kitten attempting to frighten its first prey. Yet presuming her word would not feature an effect on the woman, the Chandrilan reluctantly holstered the blaster on her hip. Within reach, but not actively taking up space in her dominant hand.

Her eyes widened, a faint heat coloring her cheeks at the remark about getting her on her knees... and more. "Look, I'll admit I'm not the sharpest, my lady, but that sounded a lot more like flirting than threatening." Soliane let out a nervous snort, caught somewhere between amusement and unease. Eyes darting around the tomb as if it was getting closer to suffocating them. Mayhaps the tales had been true and the treasure hunter had already been devoured by the lunacy that had consumed her foregoers. Yet when the hypocrisy poured from the accursed's mouth, a sharp gasp left her lips."Oh, don't be so pathetic. If I'm here to take what isn't mine, and you're clearly no keeper of this tomb--then we share the same aim, do we not, ma'am?" She jabbed a finger into the woman's chest, her touch light, before listening to the bold dare escaping their lips.

With a soft 'hmph', Sol withdrew her hand from the woman's armor and strode forward into the cavernous hall. Shattered statues of ancient Sith and long-dead wardens stood vigil on either side of the tiled path. Had she not known better, the mere sight would have made her think the place was looted lifetimes ago. Yet her scanner pulsed with life, attracted to the scattered relics waiting to be taken. "And they say people lose their minds on this planet? Well, if it's full of creeps like you skulking about… eh, fine, I see the point." She murmured mostly to herself. "So, what is it you seek on this planet? Because these relics are enough credits for me." With her back turned to the woman, Soliane sauntered towards one of the relics, inspecting the Ancient Sith inscribed on its planes. "With blood spilled and shadow bound, let the vessel be opened. May the darkness claim, and the strong endure eternal." She read aloud, turning with a scoff towards the presumed... Sith. "It must be so hopeless being a part of a cult like that."

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



Virelia's laughter rolled low in her throat, not mocking but thick with heat, like velvet dragged over steel. She let Soliane's jab linger against her armor, savoring the tiny defiance before the girl turned her back. Bold. Foolish. Delightful.

"You think me Sith?" she purred, following with unhurried steps into the hall, the shattered wardens seeming to bow before her shadow. "No, little scavenger. The Sith cast me out. I challenged one of their Dark Councillors to a Kaggath, and they recoiled." Her hand brushed the air as if dismissing something foul. "They did not exile me because I failed. They exiled me because they feared I would win."

She circled Soliane like a predator entertained by prey that still strutted. Her words cut with deliberate weight, meant to settle against the girl's skin. "The Sith despise chains. They cry for freedom, for passion, for breaking." A pause—Virelia leaned close, her voice licentious, whispering just by Soliane's ear. "But I? I adore chains. The way they bind. The way they remind. I wear none. I give them."

Her violet eyes burned when Soliane turned to scoff at the inscription. Virelia's smile curved sharp and knowing.

"You read their words as hopeless. I read them as truth. Blood is currency. Shadow is power. The strong endure because the weak are already forgotten." Her gauntleted hand rose, hovering just shy of Soliane's cheek, not touching—teasing. "And you, little thief, are already tangled in my chain. Whether you beg for freedom or not."

She withdrew, slow, deliberate, leaving the air heavy between them.

"So no, I am no Sith. I am darker. I am mine. And if you would walk beside me, you will kneel only when it pleases me."

 

[weirwooddream]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


A Kaggath, a rite consisting of two duellistic elements. From what Jado had shown her, it was scarcely fulfilled among the Ancient Sith. The chances of a death draped in mockery a source of dismay among their kind. For they all thrived in victory and fear, so as the victor would emerge as a personification of might, their foe would have been stripped of their dignity, and/or life. Soliane's word of defiance lay on her tongue, yet the will of this person lay as clear as day, unwilling to bend to the insights of another. "Well, I too have been thrown out of a dejarik-competition before, might have had something to do with me scrambling the holograms." A sweet, mischievous melody left her rosy lips, and she gently attached the ancient artefact to her belt.

As the woman did not falter in her attempts to intimidate her, Soliane merely drifted from relic to relic, studying the ancient artefacts scattered across the cavernous chamber. She listened only half-heartedly to the veiled threats and suggestive remarks leaving her companion's mouth again and again. Whilst she denied any ties to the Sith, her words carried that sense of authority and 'arrogance' that stunk of the cult. Her fingers slipped around some stone and traced the edges of a holo-disk, Soliane let the weight of it roll in her hand while with the other she activated her energy scanner, tapping the interface as if it were a common holo-tablet. "Noting this for the nearest brothel owner…" she murmured dryly, her fingers playing across the scanner's buttons. The device vibrated from the closeness of the holo-disk. "So, woman is into binding her partner, keeping control... hmm..." She looked towards the armored woman, eyes glinting with mischief. "Let me guess. You're the type who'd enjoy choking someone too."

When they finally left her aura, Soliane began to stow her scanner away... Only for the device to emit a sharp beeping from its speakers as its sensors locked onto a signature within an unnoticed crevice. "Kriffing pile of junk!" she snapped, throwing both the holo-disk and scanner in frustration on the worn soil before clapping her hands harshly over her ears to block out the whine.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



Virelia watched the girl flit from relic to relic, like a moth pretending to be fire. Mischief clung to Soliane's words, her every jest a fragile shield against the weight pressing down on them both. Virelia did not move to stop her. She only followed, her presence deliberate, slow, filling the chamber with inevitability.

When Soliane teased, voice bright and reckless—Virelia's lips parted in a smile that was both indulgence and threat. She did not laugh. She only tilted her head, eyes glowing violet, and allowed silence to linger until it pressed like a hand against Soliane's throat.

Finally, a murmur—low, molten, licentious.

"Enjoy…? Little thief, I perfect it."

Her voice caressed the air rather than raised it, making the cavern itself lean closer to catch the sound. She stepped nearer, her armored gauntlet rising, not to strike, not even to touch. Fingers hovered at Soliane's throat, tracing the outline of her pulse from inches away. The sparks that danced along her knuckles hissed faintly, close enough to feel, far enough to torment.

"You are quick with your tongue," she said, quiet, cutting, "but one day you will beg me to slow it for you."

The scanner's shrill alarm cut through the tension. Soliane's outburst, her hands clapping against her ears, the frustrated cry—Virelia did not flinch. Instead she reached out, impossibly swift, seizing the holo-disk from where it clattered. Her grip was possessive, decisive. The relic was hers now, whether Soliane liked it or not.

She turned it in her hand, the violet glow of her eyes spilling across the inscriptions. The whining of the device dulled against the oppressive hum of her presence. When she finally looked back, it was not to return the disk, but to let her gaze linger on Soliane's lips, her flushed cheek, the heat that still betrayed her despite the defiance in her stance.

"You play at irreverence," she murmured, her voice rich with restrained hunger. "But every jest of yours reveals you already know the shape of chains."

Her armored fingers, still hovering just above the girl's throat, flexed once—an unspoken promise. Then she withdrew, slow and deliberate, keeping the relic in hand.

"And one day, you will wear mine."

The words were soft, but final. A vow, not a threat. And the tomb swallowed them like scripture.

 

[weirwooddream]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


A disharmonious rhythm of alarm persisted vividly within the tomb, its sharp noise piercing her ears with wild abandon. Whilst concentration was the furthest state Soliane resided in, a gentle hand guided her mind towards inner calm. Her own? Or from one another? In an instance, the fainting echoes were the only proof of the scanner's astucity. When her hands gradually abandoned their silent guard over her hearing, another's found room to strike. For a faint grip found her throat, its crackling of elecricity infrequently dancing over her pale skin. With little option, the Chandrilan raised her head high, her heart racing akin to chased prey. Dark eyes darting among the void which shaped the room, nothing called to her, except for the glowing sextet of purplish eyes which shaped the figure's mask. Then down towards the items in the dirt, as the woman leaned down only briefly to grab ahold of her artefact. It was she who found it, not her- Irritation bubbled inside her, among the embarrassment and yet fancy of this vulnerable stance.

The addiction this figure had to mentions of chains had lightly begun to bore her, except that... It would be rather amusing to see her own cards played against her. Once they mercifully withdrew their hand, she slumped forward for a moment, catching the breath she had been trying to hold. Her left hand shot up to her neck, the woman's gloved fingertips fortunately only left an indistinct reddening upon her throat. (Nothing a flush of powder would not conceal)... After a long minute, Soliane knelt down to recover her scanner and placed it back in her shoulderbag. Whilst doing so, her fingers barely skimmed the rope of her grappling hook. A mischievous idea concocting in her mind, as Sol quietly seized it.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - weirwooddream



Virelia did not chase. She did not need to. The girl's defiance trembled on the edge of collapse, yet still burned with enough spirit to make the game entertaining. The faint red mark at her throat glowed like a sigil of ownership, proof of how close she had come to being undone. And yet, she still moved, still schemed. Virelia admired it—like watching a fledgling predator bare its teeth at a lioness.

She stood above her, turning the relic in her hand as if weighing its worth against the girl who had first touched it. The glow from the etched stone spilled over her armor, violet glimmers tracing the cruel lines of her helm. Her voice, when it came, was not raised—it never needed to be.

"You throw jests like daggers. You parade irreverence as though it will shield you." A pause, sharp, deliberate. "But you are still here. Still breathing. Still daring to look me in the eye when any wiser thief would have fled."

She stepped closer, boots ringing faintly against the cracked floor, her presence pressing down like gravity itself. When Soliane glanced up, Virelia lowered herself slightly, closing the gap without touching. The relic dangled from her fingers, its glow casting sharp light across Soliane's cheek.

"So I will ask, little wanderer—" her voice dipped, velvet over steel, "Who are you, truly? Chandrilan accent, scavenger's hands, but not the emptiness of a common thief. What hunger drives you into a tomb like this, where even Sith fear to linger?"

Her eyes—twin shards of violet—drank in the girl's face, her flush, her lingering defiance. Respect colored her tone now, though it was wrapped in the same licentious hunger that flavored every word.

"I have seen zealots. I have seen cowards. You are neither. Mischief is your shield, but it is not all you are." She tilted her head, lips curving into a razor's smile. "Tell me your name. Tell me what you seek. If you amuse me with your truth as much as you do with your lies… perhaps I will let you leave with more than breath in your lungs."

Her gauntleted hand rose once more, not to grip but to hover, fingers a whisper above Soliane's cheek. It was not a threat. It was a demand for answer, framed as a caress withheld.

"Who are you, little thief? And why does your fire deserve to endure?"