Malicious Malos

[Roman Antilles (TL8)]

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Tomb of Darth Malos, Korriban, 13:23 local time

The pilgrimage took longer than he had expected, though it was not without its own spoils of adventure. Migrating through the scorching deserts as the sun of Korriban melted on the back of his neck was difficult enough, but not clearly as entertaining as running into a few yellow eyed Sith as well as their ferocious hounds. Those damn Tuk'ata seemed as if they had never eaten, their tongues lashing out in unsatisfied hunger.

Roman finally arrived towards the entrance of the legendary Tomb, eyes scanning upwards towards the roof of the simplistic cave system as he finally laid his gaze upon the path forward. He nodded his head to the other two acolytes that accompanied him.

Did he wish to share his spoils with them? Of course not, but Roman had read enough about the Dark Lords to realize that the tomb held dangers. Who better to satisfy the dark side than a simple, flesh offering...

Roman moved inwards, descending the initial staircase and arriving into the first centralized lair region. His left hand digging into the sand as it gave a relaxing and soothing feeling over him, dark energies channeled into the acolyte as he attempted to communicate with the sinister energies that lay dormant for centuries.

@vamp

 

[The Storyteller]

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Just a few years over five centuries. It had been half a millennium since the dark spirit of Darth Malos had last conversed with a living being, but that would change today. There had been contenders. They had all failed. As with the other Sith tombs, no one had been successful in their endeavor to take up the legacy of the founding Lords of the Sith Empire. Perhaps that would change. Most likely not.

Three Acolytes approached the tomb, and if Malos was still alive to see it, he would scoff. He had razed entire worlds and slain the finest warriors in the Galaxy in single combat. He had been the most powerful Templar the Exiles had ever seen. Three mere Acolytes did not even deserve to approach his tomb.

But approach they did, not aware what laid ahead. A lone gust of wind blew across the wastelands of Korriban, grains of sand scattering about as they had for all of existence. Crows—foreign to Korriban and impossible to sustain on the planet—perched on the tip of the small mountain that the tomb had been built under, simply glaring at the approaching figures. One left its spot—and flew into the tomb, sailing through the dusty air as if this was not the first time.

Within the grounds, an ancient evil lay, unmoved, in slumber. That would change today.

 

[Roman Antilles (TL8)]

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Roman could feel its seething anger, the force swelled and displaced around as his presence and those of his companions had seemingly awoken the ancient evil. Some would argue that he was foolish to venture into this place, though the ambitious young Sith had his own motivations. He had studied the Lords of Yore, and the dark templar was one he had most fascinations with. History had an interesting place in destiny. If he was to shape his own legacy, he would have to take a lesson from the dead.

Moving forwards into the tomb, Roman descended first with the other two shortly behind him a few paces. Ebony colored marauder robes fluttered as the gust of wind swept through the wastelands, pebbles and dirt scattering across their walkway as finally the sun of Korriban was masked by the darkness of the revered temple.

There was an entity present, Roman could feel it, it definitely was no friend of his. At least, not yet...

@vamp

 

[The Storyteller]

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The Acolyte was wrong to interpret the energy around him as something rageful, because Malos had never been a rageful man in life. He had always analyzed the world around him from a special perspective, not implicating his emotions into his work. He had simply not felt much, just a sense of duty. It was rare that he was overcome with feeling, and it tended to happen only in the most heated of battles.

No, now he was simply being, slumbering, the energy around his tomb malicious simply because the dark side of the Force felt that way. Malos had not woken yet. Roman hadn't done anything to warrant an awakening.

The three Acolytes entered the tomb. You are merely visitors here, something seemed to tell them. Do not forget that.

They would keep moving forward into the tomb until they reached a fork in the road, something so simple and generic that one might even laugh thinking that Malos designed it. But some things, generic as they may be, are necessary. And Malos knew that better than anyone.

The Acolytes had a choice. Left or right.