ᴅᴀʀᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴛᴜs
Very few willing venture this far into the wilderness.
Tattooine was not exactly the sort of planet that the average soul frequented. It was far flung, had nothing of "worth", and was home to the most unfavorable conditions around. Above, twin suns glared down upon oceans of sand. Shade was a dream. Water was an illusion. For most visitors of this planet, the only place to be was Mos Eisley: a literal cesspool that at least doubled as a decent watering hole. However, for the Dar'manda named Dagora-Kel, the ridiculously uncomfortable wastes were where he needed to be. Now, that in itself was somewhat of a contradiction, for a man of his "position" had little reason to be trudging about the desert. He had a company to run, money to make, and upstarts to stomp.
As such, to the naked eye, a CEO wandering the sands was odd.
But, there was reason to Dagora's madness.
Long ago, these same sands had been the battlefield between two titans. United under the same banner, these two men decided to cut loose for the first time in ages...and the result was mutual respect. Sure, Dagora lost a rather beautiful suit of beskar'gam during the contest of strengths, but he had gained a new ally. Of course, time would see these two separated, for the future was always a fickle thing. Yet, as the years rolled by, a reunion was set to take place. For them, simply being within the same system aroused a response in the Force: an awareness that the other yet lived. Like moths to an open flame, the both would be drawn to the other; and warlike passions would flare once more.
This was why the Dar'manda wandered about the desert. This was why Dagora abandoned the comforts of his role in favor of blistering heat. [member="Ket Van-Derveld"] yet lived, he could feel it...and that rat bastard owed him a new suit of armor.
Tattooine was not exactly the sort of planet that the average soul frequented. It was far flung, had nothing of "worth", and was home to the most unfavorable conditions around. Above, twin suns glared down upon oceans of sand. Shade was a dream. Water was an illusion. For most visitors of this planet, the only place to be was Mos Eisley: a literal cesspool that at least doubled as a decent watering hole. However, for the Dar'manda named Dagora-Kel, the ridiculously uncomfortable wastes were where he needed to be. Now, that in itself was somewhat of a contradiction, for a man of his "position" had little reason to be trudging about the desert. He had a company to run, money to make, and upstarts to stomp.
As such, to the naked eye, a CEO wandering the sands was odd.
But, there was reason to Dagora's madness.
Long ago, these same sands had been the battlefield between two titans. United under the same banner, these two men decided to cut loose for the first time in ages...and the result was mutual respect. Sure, Dagora lost a rather beautiful suit of beskar'gam during the contest of strengths, but he had gained a new ally. Of course, time would see these two separated, for the future was always a fickle thing. Yet, as the years rolled by, a reunion was set to take place. For them, simply being within the same system aroused a response in the Force: an awareness that the other yet lived. Like moths to an open flame, the both would be drawn to the other; and warlike passions would flare once more.
This was why the Dar'manda wandered about the desert. This was why Dagora abandoned the comforts of his role in favor of blistering heat. [member="Ket Van-Derveld"] yet lived, he could feel it...and that rat bastard owed him a new suit of armor.
