Jantar Keltainen
Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
“Welcome to Dromund Kaas, where freedom goes to die, and legends are forced on the galaxy."
― Vette
An extremely dangerous place. And very, very strong with the dark side.
Jantar liked it already.
She had done her homework. There were some interesting historical aspects to the world of Dromund Kaas. It was once the capital of the Sith Empire. Until that fell.
Then it was rediscovered by someone who rejected the Rule of Two, who thought that there was more than enough of the dark side to go around. He founded a religion that would become known as the Dark Force. They had an ancient temple that was was serviced for centuries by the Dark Prophets. It was so steeped in the dark side that it formed its own nexus — one so powerful it interfered with all weaponry and technology except for lightsabers.
But reality was never as wonderful as theory.
The noisome smell of fetid water and decay was borne to Jantar on the still, warm breeze as she walked down the ramp of her shio, boots squelching in the muck. Jantar imagined that if the dark side had a smell, it would be this. A reek — almost sweet in the way that rot could be, stifling, and impossible to avoid.
Dark-side energy was extremely strong here. The dark energies felt insidious, purely evil for evil’s sake than fuel for a lust for power. Despite the warmth, the moist air felt clammy, like wet skin slapping against your own.
Her destination lay straight ahead. Home to the Dark Prophets, site of an extremely powerful Dark Force nexus, the Dark Force temple loomed upward, a black, somber silhouette against the grey daylight sky, rendered mysterious and unclear by the mist that occasionally thickened to drizzle. No lights punctured its cold darkness.
As Jantar drew closer, the temple ceased to be a sullen unnerving shape on the horizon and instead became a looming threat.
It was solid stone, grey and massive, and heavy with banked threat. The darkness emanating from it was almost like a sound so deep that one could not hear it, but could feel it in one's bones or blood. Jantar could well believe that in its presence, blasters and other mundane energy weapons and technology would be rendered useless.
Even in the murky light, Jantar couldn't possibly miss the pair of giant, golden statues of hooded figures, hands folded across the pommels of swords. The figures were more disquieting in this dark, dank place than in the sun of Korriban’s desert. Painted vines with ominous blossoms and probably deadly thorns twined about the base of the temple.
And then she headed in.
[member="Elani Zambrano"]
― Vette
An extremely dangerous place. And very, very strong with the dark side.
Jantar liked it already.
She had done her homework. There were some interesting historical aspects to the world of Dromund Kaas. It was once the capital of the Sith Empire. Until that fell.
Then it was rediscovered by someone who rejected the Rule of Two, who thought that there was more than enough of the dark side to go around. He founded a religion that would become known as the Dark Force. They had an ancient temple that was was serviced for centuries by the Dark Prophets. It was so steeped in the dark side that it formed its own nexus — one so powerful it interfered with all weaponry and technology except for lightsabers.
But reality was never as wonderful as theory.
The noisome smell of fetid water and decay was borne to Jantar on the still, warm breeze as she walked down the ramp of her shio, boots squelching in the muck. Jantar imagined that if the dark side had a smell, it would be this. A reek — almost sweet in the way that rot could be, stifling, and impossible to avoid.
Dark-side energy was extremely strong here. The dark energies felt insidious, purely evil for evil’s sake than fuel for a lust for power. Despite the warmth, the moist air felt clammy, like wet skin slapping against your own.
Her destination lay straight ahead. Home to the Dark Prophets, site of an extremely powerful Dark Force nexus, the Dark Force temple loomed upward, a black, somber silhouette against the grey daylight sky, rendered mysterious and unclear by the mist that occasionally thickened to drizzle. No lights punctured its cold darkness.
As Jantar drew closer, the temple ceased to be a sullen unnerving shape on the horizon and instead became a looming threat.
It was solid stone, grey and massive, and heavy with banked threat. The darkness emanating from it was almost like a sound so deep that one could not hear it, but could feel it in one's bones or blood. Jantar could well believe that in its presence, blasters and other mundane energy weapons and technology would be rendered useless.
Even in the murky light, Jantar couldn't possibly miss the pair of giant, golden statues of hooded figures, hands folded across the pommels of swords. The figures were more disquieting in this dark, dank place than in the sun of Korriban’s desert. Painted vines with ominous blossoms and probably deadly thorns twined about the base of the temple.
And then she headed in.
[member="Elani Zambrano"]