A R C H I V I S T
[member="Darth Venefica"]
Zakuul. An ancient capital planet of a long since dead empire. A nondescript starship landed upon the swampy world. The occupant of the ship had stepped out, surging with a primal variation of the Dark Side. Allara Ven. Former Jedi. Witch. And now servant to the darkness after it had been awoken by a Sith Apprentice by the name of Abyss. How she thanked him. She was clad in strange clothing, a combination of armorweave cloth and form-fitting Vonduun crabs that seemed to hug the sensual curves of her body. Around her waist slithered yet another of her Vong companions. Raksha, her oldest friend. Her amphistaff. She called to it in the Vongsense, having it become a staff as she walked out into the swamps of Zakuul. She had made contact with an older Sith who she had heard rumors was looking for a student, sending a message to this Darth Venefica to meet her here. A neutral world free from the grasp of the One Sith, the ailing Republic, or any other beloved supreme government.
And there she waited in the swampland. It was a tad ironic to her. Her journey to this point began on the swamps of Dagobah. She remembered back to the crusty old hermit named Kiara. How she had been wrong about the balance. The infantile descent in the dark side had shown her that she had become a stoic. Repressed her emotions, when she should have been revelling in this new path before her. Hence why she sought a teacher. Someone who could set her on a path to more tempering of her power. She was as like steel before a blacksmith. Ready to be forged into a tool...or a weapon.
Zakuul. An ancient capital planet of a long since dead empire. A nondescript starship landed upon the swampy world. The occupant of the ship had stepped out, surging with a primal variation of the Dark Side. Allara Ven. Former Jedi. Witch. And now servant to the darkness after it had been awoken by a Sith Apprentice by the name of Abyss. How she thanked him. She was clad in strange clothing, a combination of armorweave cloth and form-fitting Vonduun crabs that seemed to hug the sensual curves of her body. Around her waist slithered yet another of her Vong companions. Raksha, her oldest friend. Her amphistaff. She called to it in the Vongsense, having it become a staff as she walked out into the swamps of Zakuul. She had made contact with an older Sith who she had heard rumors was looking for a student, sending a message to this Darth Venefica to meet her here. A neutral world free from the grasp of the One Sith, the ailing Republic, or any other beloved supreme government.
And there she waited in the swampland. It was a tad ironic to her. Her journey to this point began on the swamps of Dagobah. She remembered back to the crusty old hermit named Kiara. How she had been wrong about the balance. The infantile descent in the dark side had shown her that she had become a stoic. Repressed her emotions, when she should have been revelling in this new path before her. Hence why she sought a teacher. Someone who could set her on a path to more tempering of her power. She was as like steel before a blacksmith. Ready to be forged into a tool...or a weapon.