The Dark Hoard (Chapter 1)

[Raven 2552]

Mando'yaim
0320 hours
Mandalorian Museum
Archive Room
Sundari
​

The room was lit by only a single lamp, perched precariously on the edge of a small desk that sat in the middle of the open space, surrounded on all sides by towering bookshelves which were stuffed to near bursting with thick leather covered volumes. A lone figure sat at the desk, his head bent low and his hands flipping pages at a rapid pace. If the man was weary because of the late hour it did not show. Around him lay the detritus of his time in the dark, discarded books and protein bar wrappers scattered almost carelessly around him. His lips moved quickly, the words quiet and running together.

Jakob Merrik was close to something. Something big. He had found it by accident. Ancient records from a Mandalorian convoy of a ship signature that had been written off as nothing more than a passing fleet. But the drive signatures... The drive signatures had stirred an old memory in his mind, a legend that he had been told as a child perched on his father's knee. If this was what he thought it was than it could very well be the most significant discovery in a half millennium. Jakob tapped the odd signatures into the datapad that sat at his side and stared at the screen as it ran the figures. When the confirmation came back it caused his jaw to go slack. Darknell.

He pulled the signatures and ran the numbers, tracking the course they would have been on. At the heading they would have been on, there was only one planet they could have jumped to. Atoa. An inhospitable ball of ice in the Ghost Nebula. It made sense. The Tyrant of Darknell was a paranoid ruler, seeing assassins around every corner, and in the last years of his life had taken his hoard to the stars. Where better to go than a place than no one had heard of? Well, except surveyors and of course the Atoans. You could have hidden a battle fleet on Atoa and no one would have ever seen it. It would have been child's play to hide a few bulk freighters and escort cruisers.

Leaning back in the chair Jakob considered his options as he felt the knots in his back loosen without the pressure of his hunched posture to hold them together. He could go himself, but this could present obstacles he would not be able to overcome alone. Paranoia led to fear, fear led to overreaction, and overreaction led to things like traps and failsafes. And as confident as he was in his skills it was always better to have someone set off the pressure plate first. Besides, it would be an interesting study into the mindset of the ancient Tyrant. That would make for an interesting dissertation. He tapped his fingers together in front if his face, the fingers steepled and then he rested his chin on the folded hands.

"Torin!" He called over his shoulder to the waiting aide. The young Mando moved forward, the light barely illuminating his craggy features as he stood at the edge of the circle of light cast by the single lumen. He stood expectantly, his hands clasped behind his back. "I need you to gather the messengers. I have a job for them."​

****
Coruscant
8 Days Later
2300 Hours
Floor 2354
High Garden Apartments​

Breaking in had been easy. You would think someone who handled priceless treasures for a living would have been a little more conscientious of his personal security. And a thorough scan of the apartment had revealed no listening devices or security cameras. It had, however, turned up a rather well-aged bottle of Corellian Whiskey and two snifters. A flick of a fingernail against the side had produced a beautiful steady hum that rang in a timbre pleasant to the ear. Real crystal. Not inexpensive. He poured two fingers into each glass and then settled himself on the couch, one of the snifters in his left hand, and the other sitting on the side table near a well worn armchair.

Here he waited in the dark. It took over an hour and a half for the good doctor to make it home, and as the tinny sounds of a woman’s laughter sounded outside the door the uninvited guest sat up slightly straighter and placed his hand on the well worn leather of his gunbelt. When the automatic door slid into its recess the laughter became louder, the high pitch of the woman’s laughter blending with the low chuckle of a male. The laughter stopped as the lights flicked on and they were greeted with the sight of a large man wearing a large blaster on his thigh sitting almost casually on the couch, a snifter of whiskey held delicately in his left. He was dressed in nondescript clothing topped with a leather jacket. A well tooled and worn gunbelt was slung low on his waist, and his right hand, the skin dark as charcoal toyed with the leather.

When he spoke his voice was deep enough to cause a rumble in one’s chest. “Doctor Conally. I’ve been waiting for you.” The unknown man’s eyes flicked to the doctor’s companion. He nudged his head towards the door, indicating the Twi’lek female should leave. “The doctor and I have business to discuss.” She didn’t move and the large man dropped his chin slightly, telegraphing the threat he could represent. “You need to leave. Now.” A frightened glance at him caused her to scurry out of the room in a hurry, and as she reached the door she threw one last look over her shoulder before disappearing down the dimly lit hall. “You should close the door doctor. What I have to discuss is not for prying ears.” The door slid shut quietly with the press of a button and the tuxedo-ed man turned to face the unknown on the couch.

The man on the couch gestured to the chair and the whiskey that sat near it. “Please. Sit. I apologize for my methods, but your offices are rather difficult to get into without stating your business. And what I’ve been sent to talk to you about is a rather… delicate subject.” As the doctor sat the man on the couch held out a data card with the symbol of Clan Merrik, a Mythosaur Skull over crossed sabers, embossed on it. “It’s something that I think will be right up your alley.”​

****
Csilla
13 Days Later
1325 Hours
Zurs’avi’noura Estate​

A cold night could bother many Sentients, but the Mandalorian who was sealed up tight in his gear couldn’t even notice the cold. What he did notice was the fan that kept catching at the back of his neck and causing the heat that was pumped in to stay sealed in with him. It was ironic. He was was sweating profusely on a planet where the temperature was below freezing. Hi voice was low as he swore and made a promise to fix it as soon as he got back to his ship.

He had been moving through the cold for several hours now, the estate he had been sent to being several hundred kilometers away from the starport. If he hadn’t had the swoop with him he would have risked a closer landing but since he had brought the bike and had been wanting a good ride for a while he had decided to enjoy the wind blasted plains and the challenges they could provide. A steady thump thump thump beat against his ears as he turned up the volume on the new synth music he had purchased from the vendor in the capital. It had a a driving bass beat that was well complimented by a higher pitched string instrument.

He could get used to this.

As he moved closer to the estate it started to take shape. It was built in the common style on this planet, squat and low so as to better protect against the howling wind and snow. The Mandalorian also had to admire how well it blended in against the landscape. Tough for an enemy to find it. Worthy of at least some respect. His swoop was a blur as it passed the outer boundaries of the estate, moving upwards slightly with a pull of the handlebars to jump the low fence. Eyes flicked across his displays as the bike’s sensors read a path that dropped through some low paths and gave him the best chance to avoid any built in defense emplacements. He gunned the engine and dipped into a small ravine, throwing caution to the wind as he increased his speed.

The estate was large enough that even at his speed it took him almost another half hour to reach the front door. He set the bike down gently and swung his leg over the side to plant his booted feet firmly against the rockcrete. A quick stretch of his taut shoulders allowed the knots to loosen and the Mandalorian stepped forwards to the stairs that led down to the entrance. At the bottom the door sat open and a Chiss in a servant’s uniform stood waiting for him. His bright red eyes regarded the Mandalorian curiously as he moved down the steps.

A gloved hand delved into a pouch and deftly brought forth a data card with the Clan Merrik sigil on the face. “I have a message for your master. Something I think he might be interested in.”

****
Nar Shaddaa
17 Days Later
0117 Hours
Corellian Sector​

A quick sidestep moved to Mandalorian out of the way out of the drunk Twi’lek that was stumbling down the dimly lit boulevard, a mostly empty bottle of Corellian Whiskey clutched in his grey hand. Curses that were slurred out in the language of Ryloth caused the Mandalorian’s lips to move upward in a slight grin as he caught several references to the impurity of his lineage. Well of course he was impure. There wasn’t a Mandalorian alive that wasn’t. Came with the territory of being a mixed species culture. Even those who trumpeted pure blood didn’t have a single drop of original Mando blood in their veins. Some of the older Clans could trace their ancestors back for thousands of years, but along the way there was always a jump.

In armored hands sat sat a rifle, casually slung over his shoulder with the safety on, but his finger resting next to the switch within easy reach of the trigger. His armor was painted a cheery red trimmed with blue, and a blue half cloak hung from his right shoulder. He had been walking these streets for almost a week waiting for his target to arrive back in his usual berth. Every day he walked past multiple times, and every time it was empty. But maybe today would be his lucky day if the Manda wills it.

As he approached the bay his hopes were raised by the fact that for the first time the bay door sat closed, the lock mechanism glowing red. Moving closer the brightly painted Mando threw a quick glance through the glasteel panel inserted into the grimy steel and silently rejoiced at the sight of the Claw-3 Interceptor. Finally.

Surreptitious glances up and down the corridors around him showed him that he was alone for the moment, and a quick blink-click sprung forth a security spike from his gauntlet. It slid into the override port with a slight ‘click’ and then grinding noises sprung forth from the console as the spike worked its purpose. After 30 seconds or so the panel flashed green and the Mandalorian popped the spike back into his gauntlet after withdrawing it from the port. He pressed his hand against the panel and the door slid open quietly. The Mandalorian stepped through and allowed the door to slide shut behind him.

Walking across the bay towards the similarly dressed man he doffed his helmet and put on his best smile and motioned towards the ship. “Looks like she’s seen better times. I think I might have a way for you to get her all fixed up.” He pulled a card from the holding slot on his left gauntlet and held it up to reflect the bright luminescence from the lights above. “In fact, you would probably be able to buy yourself a whole new ship.”

****
Tatooine
13 days later
1412 hours
Mos Eisley Spaceport​

Mandalorians were not an unusual sight here on Tatooine. At any given time there were probably a dozen or more of the famed bounty hunters on the desert world, wither picking up or dropping off contracts to the Hutts and other various crime lords on the blasted rock. But for the Mandalorian who stalked the streets of the infamous Mos Eisley spaceport the acquisition of credits was the furthest thing from his mind. He was here hunting another hunter, one who would stand out like a sore thumb even here. After all, you didn’t see many Barabels here.

Vendors hawked their wares from brightly colored stalls on the sides of the streets. Odd foods and clothes that would be out of place on almost every other planet in the galaxy were proclaimed unashamedly as the best in the spaceport. A small chuckle escaped the Mandalorian’s lips as the thought of how ridiculous he would look with one of the brightly colored ponchos slung over his armor. No one would be able to take him seriously.

His eyes scanned the streets as he walked, looking for the distinctive build of a Barabel among the populace. They were almost as easy to spot as the distinctive t-visor that sat in front of his gaze. Rumbling long gaits were simple to catch even hidden under armor or cloaks. Last he had heard the Assassin had been spotted here after a successful hit. Staying on the planet he had performed the assassination on was bold, but not out of character.

As he cleared the sunken doorway of a cantina he sidestepped two jawas who were chittering to each other in their high-pitched quick language. From his time here he had picked up a few words in their trade language and he recognized the words droid, moisture farmers, restraining bolt, and several discussions of how much they could scam the yokels of this planet for. These Jawas were bolder than most, and he felt small fingers delve into one of his pouches, and as they exited the Jawa found himself looking into the barrel of a blaster. “I would say you’re making a mistake little one.” They startled and ran, dropping the miniaturized grenade he had lifted from the Mandalorian. He scooped it up and tucked it back into the pouch and sealed it again before continuing his trek.

The communicator on his gauntlet beeped and he raised it in front of his eyes. The image of a Hutt sprang to life and the Mandalorian inclined his head in greeting. <Your target is near, bounty hunter. But according to my spies he’s getting ready to leave. I would hurry if I was you.> Another inclination of the head satisfied the Hutt and the transmission shut off. His speed doubled as he made his way towards the spaceport.

As he neared the spaceport his eyes alighted upon a tall robed figure who was almost dancing his way in and out of the crowds. But the motions were slightly cumbersome, and as the cloak moved slightly as it caught onto a shoulder the Mandalorian spotted a scaly five finger hand. There he was. His fingers pulled a small embossed data chip from a holding space on his gauntlet and his stride increased. Pulling up closer to the Barabel the hunter made sure his hands were visible with no weapons in them. It didn’t truly mean he was unarmed as he carried a myriad of weapons built into the armor that ringed his forearms.

“Vinn Esper.” The voice was cold and emotionless filtered through the helmet speakers. “I have a job for you.”

****
Darasuum Ijaat
31 days later
1530 hours
Ghost Nebula​

Jakob flipped the switches on the control panel that shut off the incessant beeping of the sensors. Outside the windows swirling gases caused visibility to fall to a minimum. Despite the beauty of the situation it was also incredibly dangerous. His fingers danced over the controls as he input the coordinates into the navicomputer and then leaned back for a few minutes as the computer worked out a safe course. When the course was laid in and plotted he pushed forward on the lever and the nebula in front of him dissolved into the star stretched corridor of hyperspace. He stood up and left the cockpit, adjusting the straps that held his armor tightly to him and made his way into the cargo hold, where his eclectic team sat scattered around the medium sized bay.

He stopped in front of a small holo-plinth built into the floor, and spread his arms in greeting. “Welcome. I am Jakob Merrik, Director of the Mandalorian Museum and your benefactor for this trip. I have gathered you here for one simple purpose, one that will require all of your unique skillsets.” In his excitement he was almost bouncing on his heels. “We are going to be searching for something that has been lost for almost a thousand years. A treasure that has been consigned to legend and myth. Have any of you heard of the Tyrant of Darknell?”

@Ludcake @TheBeta @Kori Buor @Vinn Esper​

 

[Vinn Esper]

Vinn hadn't had any pressing business to attend to for either the SBZ or himself. He was very much fatigued with the dusty dirty atmosphere of tattooine and was getting ready to leave when a Mando entered the bar and began to approach him after sticking a gun into the face of a Jawa.

Vinn didn't particularly like Mandos, and knew of their propensity for bounty hunting. He had done quite a few things at this point to warrant a price on his head. Though he wasn't aware of one, Vinn hadn't survived by lacking caution. As the Mando came closer, Vinn boot his boot on the upper portion of the table leg prepared to kick it at the Mando if need be. Both his hands came to rest upon the hilts of his vibroswords. He was ready for a fight.

However, it appeared it wasn't a fight the Mando was seeking. He approached, his hands raised in a gesture to suggest he meant no harm. Vinn held his position, not quite believing the Mando. He spoke, his message short and to the point, "Vinn Esper, I have a job for you."

Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events. It was also something Vinn could believe. He relaxed, slightly, putting his foot back onto the floor. "Time and place you or your boss wanna meet. Here and now ain't appropriate."

That had been a month ago. Now he was out here in the middle of nowhere. Only one face was familiar and Vinn hadn't been particularly keen on seeing it again. Still he'd greeted his old boss respectfully, "Doctor Conally, see you've been well." He doubted the good Doctor was his boss in this mission and he hadn't need to wait long before his doubts were confirmed. Some other academic type by the name of Jacob came out talking some nonsense about a long dead guy Vinn hadn't ever cared to hear of.

He answered the guy, "I reckon some of these be more educated in these types of useless information, than I. However, I think all of us are ready to get to work. That is why we're here, ain't it? If it be pleasurable to y'all, I'd like to receive the details of my assignment and skip the history lesson, which to be quite plain, don't mean nothing to me anyway."

 

[Ludcake]

Eighteen days before, Zurs'avi'noura received a message. One of his servants entrusted him with the request, as apparently a Mandalorian had delivered it. Something that caught his interest, both due to its relevance to his interests- the Chiss was a historian, after all- , due to the break from his routine and, perhaps most of all, due to how he found curious that a Mandalorian was to ask him for help. Thus, at the day specified, he boarded his fully automated personal yacht, the Oura's Pride, and traveled to the Ghost Nebula, in the Expansion Region. His ship safely arrived at the location specified, and thus he slowly stepped out of it, entering the ship's cargo hold.

Wearing his usual uniform in its entirety, from phrik gauntlet to white cape, the Chiss' steps were methodical, approaching the small cluster of people. Perhaps other participants, or his employers... Either way, it didn't matter for long, as a man identified himself as Jacob Merrik, the director of the Mandalorian Museum. Savin had heard of him before, though barely so; Mandalorian lore was far from his speciality. Apparently, the man was his employer, and quickly asked them a question about their quest. The Chiss was quick to answer, his arrogant tone made clear.

"Yes, the Tyrant of Darknell... The paranoid ruler of the Knel'char system, I believe? Huh, fairytales aren't quite my area of expertise, I'm afraid."

The Chiss carefully bit his lip, looking at his... Companions, apparently. A Barabel, a human, and... Another Mandalorian. It was most definitely worrying, considering the Barabel's response to Merrik's suggestion.

 

[TheBeta]

Although, attending such events wasn't his preferred activity, he certainly found some parts enjoyable when he did need funding dedicated to his department of the Eternity Corporation. the Twi'lek girl on his arm was one of those pleasures, and one that he didn't often have the pleasure of. In fact, Alastair was reluctant to have struck things so well with her. Their laughter was ignorant of the rest of the residents. Alastair seldom found himself back here, and thus was nearly always in an acceptable condition for guests; However, Alastair's mind was far from where it needed to be for the guest he found inside.

His spine chilled as his eyes adjusted to the bold intruder awaiting him in the dark. Despite the many encounters so close to death and the creepy things he'd seen, he still couldn't prepare himself for something as common and terrifying as a home intruder. Alastair's mouth pursed in reaction, his body stiffened unable to jump to the next thought, stuck between fight or flight. His companion, however, had no issue with flight, leaving him behind without a thought or a number.

Thankfully, this intruder was quick to set his mind at some level of ease, making his intentions clearer, but still ominous by all means. The doctor tried to ignore the pounding of his startled heart and approached the man boldly, having deciphered that if he wanted him dead he'd already be dead. Alastair wasn't the kind of man people would send an assassin after anyway. It was much easier for him to make friends than enemies, especially in his most recent works in supporting both the Sith and the Republic in recovering their ancient pasts.

Alastair's shaken quiver in his voice disappeared with relative ease when every moment with the man revealed another mystery, piquing his ever insatiable curiosity. He had to admit that the bold nature of the visit had many implications that Alastair was certain he wouldn't be able to discern quite yet. However, Alastair did notice the sigil on the data chip handed to him, and he recognized it as Mandalorian, though he was uncertain of the clan of origin. Their conversation was short, and despite his prodding, he didn't manage to get much out of what seemed to be a messenger. It was only when Alastair finally turned his back on his surprise guest to insert the data chip into a computer that the mysterious man vanished, leaving Alastair with only an assumption of how he'd entered and retreated.

Over the next two and a half months afterwards, Alastair made his every attempt to have the Eternity Corporation sanction his mission out to his mysterious employer, however, with as vague as the details he'd been given on the data chip, he got nothing. Even being head of the department of Archeology didn't grant him the ability to automatically go wherever he wanted with whatever resources. This forced Alastair to embark to the 'Eternal Honor' to meet the man only previously identified by the name Jakob Merrik. Like the studious man he was sure the very same Jakob Merrik sought him out because of, Alastiar spent much of the rest of his time researching what little tidbits of information he was awarded for sitting through the earlier intrusion. He'd pour meticulously over the datachip over and over again, even delving purposely into the public history of his eventual employer, trying to learn all he could.

No matter what he did though, his thirst for more information seemed as if it would never be quenched, and as a result he only grew more an more curious for what Jakob had in store for him. Unfortunately, his research yielded almost as little as the datachip had. Information yes, but all of it was meaningless without the perspective of the goal set by the curator. Names, meaningless names for him, Parja, Jeyne, they didn't reveal anything about him. The trouble was more along the lines of the security of information withheld from public view by the Madalorian government Of 'course, it was completely understandable, but frustrating to say the least.

Alastair had a lot on his mind now, and he as getting nowhere until just recently, when it dawned on him why the name Jakob Merrik was familiar to him. Between a few various publications and an artifact of no particular significance, Alastair had made brief -indirect- contact with the curator when returning the artifact back to the museum he curated. It was no more contact than a well written message along with a package sent as high priority by none other than the Eternity Corporation, but it was contact none the less, and it became evident how Merrik found Alastair in the first place. Clever man.

Unfortunately, the artifact Alastair had sent had no significance at all, just seeming to be a missing piece of a long since solved mystery, certainly not that of the mystery Jakob likely had in mind for Doctor Conally. Ultimately, Alastair found Jakob as much an enigma as his recruitment. Alastair found himself incapable of refusing the prospect, and he took the adventure under personal time and resources, finding himself within the Ghost Nebula, acquainting himself with old and new faces. Vinn at least, he already had an inkling of his personality after having participated in one particular mission before this. He wasn't a very warm person, but Alastair was pleased with the semi-appreciative greeting from the Bounty Hunter.

"Always a pleasure Mr. Esper," Alastair's Scottish accent addressed the familiar sight.

The thrust of hyperspace alerted the crew to their jump out of the Nebula to an undisclosed destination, and finally Jakob appeared at the head of the stairs leading down into the bay. It was a perfect pedestal, allowing him to be perfectly visible while allowing the projection of his voice to carry over the entire room. Furthermore, the staircase was hardly tall enough to imply superiority to any of the more conscious members of their group.

“We are going to be searching for something that has been lost for almost a thousand years. A treasure that has been consigned to legend and myth. Have any of you heard of the Tyrant of Darknell?”

The Chiss across the group from Alastair was quick to respond, attempting to show off what little information he had on the subject. Alastair admittedly never found out the reason behind his visit, and thus didn't have the opportunity to do his research. He may have read the name somewhere, but apart from that, he was certainly unfamiliar. It just went so far as to show that despite the fact that so many stories existed, one cannot hear them all in a Galaxy as vast as this, even if it is well within the boundaries of your chosen profession. However, Alastair certainly intended to learn what he could of the supposed 'Fairytale' behind this tyrant.

"I admit, Curator Jakob Merrik, that I am not familiar with the Tyrant Darknell," he started. Although, it was not as surprising to Alastair to not know the name. He'd been quite preoccupied with his own little adventures, and even though he'd like to think he had something that made him bounce on his heels like this did the Mandolorian curator, Alastair had been stuck on the little adventures that didn't seem to add up to anything other than the garnishing of a well fitted resume to such an adventure. Although, from what he could gather already, Alastair could discern that being described as a Fairytale was precisely the manner in which the majority of his biggest finds originated.

"However, Savin, I would not dismiss something merely because it is delivered as folklore. I remind you of the proverb that there is a grain of truth in every lie, which I believe translates well in the comparison that if this Darknell is merely a tall tale, that there is at least an inkling of truth in his story," Alastair warned the blue man before turning to back to Merrik to deliver the rest of his introduction, "I beg you, my esteemed colleague, please enlighten us for those who were not as fortunate to know what you do."

Already, Alastair had an excellent feeling for their adventure, and he'd only just met Jakob Merrik.

 

[Kori Buor]

It had been nearly a month and a half since Aethon Kast had been approached by another armored Mandalorian in one of the landing bays of Nar Shaddaa. At first his initial reaction was to draw on the stranger, shoot, and worry about who he was and ask questions later. Only by the faintest breadth of a hair did Aethon not shoot, instead feeling that this individual bore him no ill will despite having broken into his landing bay. As the man offered him a job which would pay quite well; well enough to restore his battle-worn and tested interceptor, the Protector scoffed, his ship didn't need repairs, she was perfect the way she was. Still, the offer of enough money to buy a whole new ship intrigued the Mandalorian enough to pursue whatever the offer was.

Now, standing in the cargo bay of some ship, Aethon waited as the reason he had been summoned, along with another three colorful characters; a barabel, a human, and a chiss. Jakob Merrik entered the cargo bay, announcing himself and treasure, ostensibly to do with the fabled Tyrant of Darknell. The barabel made some comment about cutting the history lesson and Aethon merely snorted in response as he rolled his eyes behind his T-visor. Next, the Chiss commented that fairytails were his area of expertise. "Neither are they mine," he interjected softly under his breath, "And yet I'm still here."

Finally, the last man spoke, a human with an interesting accent. When he was finished, Aethon looked around at the others before resting his eyes back on Jakob. Aethon knew of him via his sister Jeyne, the two had been... friends, once upon a time. Now he didn't know what they were. Clearing his throat the Mandalorian stood up a little straighter. "I am also mostly unfamiliar with the Tyrant, vod, but if you could enlighten me as well to the details of his existence I'm sure we'd all be better off for it. So, please, continue with the history lesson; I'm sure it will be very relevant to what we are all going to be doing."

 

[Raven 2552]

Jakob smiled warmly around the room at the reactions from the gathered crew. The Barabel seemed eager to be pointed in the direction of his target, the Chiss spoke as if this was beneath him, while the Doctor and his fellow Mandalorian seemed eager for him to expand upon their mission and the reasons that had caused him to call together this eclectic group of adventurers, scoundrels, and academics. He rolled his shoulders slightly and raised his gauntlet in front of him, his fingers sliding over the controls built into the right forearm. The Holo-plinth sprang to life and projected the world of Darknell in a cold blue light, the continents craggy and in stark contrast to the smooth ocean surfaces. “This is Darknell, an important trade center along the Hydian Way. A bastion of hope and dreams for a thousand species.” The image changed to a world with the oceans almost boiled away, large gaping mines leveling mountain ranges. It was almost completely unrecognizable. “And this was Darknell under the rule of the Tyrant.”

“Much of the history has been lost to time and hatred, but from what we’ve been able to recover the Tyrant ruled Darknell with an iron fist for almost 8 decades, pushing his people to nearly destroy the planet in his quest for more and more riches. After they pulled as much from their own core as they could, the Tyrant pushed out in an ever expanding sphere. In less than a 5 years he had conquered 4 neighboring systems, and within a decade he had taken 9.” The projection pulled back, showing an ever increasing spread along the Hydian Way. “The Tyrant’s stockpiles grew, and soon he was the wealthiest and most powerful ruler in the Outer Rim.”

With a gentle movement of his fingers over the control pad the image changed into a bulk cruiser, the vessel appearing lopsided thanks to multiple additional cargo pods welded haphazardly onto it. The whole vessel looked like it would fall apart with the slightest shake. “This is the Gem of Darknell. It was one of 15 bulk cruisers commissioned by the Tyrant in order to take his hoard to the stars. With power comes paranoia, and the Tyrant started to see assassins around every corner, thieves in every shadow. To save his own life and to keep his hoard to himself he took these cruisers, loaded them near-to-bursting, and then he, his retinue, personal guard, and the entire hoard disappeared.” With a quick movement the image changed again, a map of the galaxy with small red pinpricks bursting into existence, no rhyme or reason to their scattering.

“These are the locations of confirmed sightings over the next 5 years of the Tyrant’s fleet. They would pop into a system, refuel and restock while under heavy guard from the fleet, and then jump into oblivion again. But then the refuels stopped. After 6 months of not a single sighting a search party was dispatched. They searched for over a year, but turned up no signs of the fleet. They chased rumor after rumor but each was a dead end, leading to abandoned systems and broken down outposts. The Tyrant and his fleet were never seen again.” He changed the projection one last time, and the calculations he had completed months before blossomed to life. Drive signatures scrolled next to jump headings and it triangulated out and a line scrolled from the location the ancient Mandalorian fleet had picked up the odd signatures and moved unerringly until it settled on Atoa.

“3 years after the disappearance of the fleet an unusual drive signature was detected by a Mandalorian trading fleet, and at the time the odd readings were dismissed as nothing more than failing drive systems. But upon further study they matched perfectly with a modified drive system from the Corporate Sector, which were only ever installed on one group of ships. The Tyrants Hoard. After double checking the area and of course the astronavigation hazards at the time, it came out that the only point the fleet could have jumped to from the point in space and at the heading they were detected at safely was Atoa.” The Projection shut off with a small click and faded from view.

“Atoa is an inhospitable world, covered in ice and littered with deadly crevasses and mountain ranges. It is also so far off the hyperlanes that it is never visited by anyone other than explorers, and even then only rarely. The last recorded instance of anyone setting foot on the surface is over a century ago. From ground scans that have been run on the world I’ve found three different areas of the planet that are deep enough to hide a fleet.” He pointed behind them to the crates. “I’ve taken the liberty of packing you all cold weather gear. Where we’re going you’re going to need it.” He smiled broadly.

“Any questions?”

 

[Vinn Esper]

Over ruled, Vinn sat quietly and listened to the the man speak. He wouldn't have paid attention except for this man didn't have only a story to tell. He had done his due diligence and offered actual intelligence on his target. That was something Vinn appreciated. Still the whole idea was very farfetched in his mind.

"I understand your thinking its the same ship. I could see it bein the same ship. What makes you so sure any remnant of what this tyrant had is still on that ship? Anybody could be flying that thing after a thousand years," Vinn voiced his concerns, "don't get me wrong I ain't trying to talk myself out of a job, but I ain't trying to rip you off either. I'd hate for you to pay me and find nothing."

Vinn wasn't finished yet, "What makes you think that it stayed on the iceball? You show this guy hopped around a lot and randomly. You said he was paranoid, why wouldn't he have laid out some complicated path to some backwater place and then got rid of the ship? That's what I woulda done."

 

[TheBeta]

Alastair always loved a good treasure hunt; However, he also had to admit his own skepticism, even if it was only to himself. He’d seen far too many fairy tales turn into reality to dismiss even the minute possibility that this Tyrant ever existed no less his fortune. However, a thousand years was a long time for something to go missing. A great many things could have happened to it, and by the description from his employer, a convoy filled to the brim with untold riches would require quite the crew to merely transport it. That means a lot of eyes and hands on that treasure. If it was hidden away like the Mandalorian historian implied, it seemed very likely that some greedy hands would take it for themselves the first chance they took. A thousand years is a very easy span of time for a treasure of any size to slowly disappear.

However, Alastair figured that this Tyrant was more likely to distribute his wealth amongst those that survive him than to have it stolen. If he was able to hide it away from even those that survived him Alastair had his own doubts on the subject. However, it was his main concern of the reasons why it hadn’t been discovered already. Someone as paranoid as Jakob says, this horde is not likely to be unguarded by whatever or whoever was left by this ancient Tyrant.

However, Alastair’s main concern hadn’t even been voiced yet, “My biggest concern, Jakob, is of who else knows about this? The people who seek out treasures of this magnitude are likely to be…” he couldn’t help but to glance around present company, “…dangerous to say the least, and no doubt highly motivated. If you’ve found this out through Madalorian records that are more or less public access, then who else could have possibly found out about this? Who have you already told?”

Although, what question Alastair wanted to ask, but didn’t want to know the answer to was why he didn’t have the Mandalorians to back him on this mission. Why did he have to resort to outsiders? The Mandalorians weren’t exactly the friendly type, especially when it came to Mandalorian records. Even Alastair’s presence here was likely unnecessary when he could have petitioned for funding from the Mandalorians themselves. It more questioned the state of the individual seeking such funds rather than the validity of the mission. Resource-wise, it doesn’t… hasn’t taken much to get a small team to pursue the potential for vast wealth.

However, Alastair didn’t want to voice his concerns in the pretense of conveying that he thought this could be a waste of time. Even if there wasn’t any wealth to be located, a find of such significance, more related to the validation of the story behind the Tyrant of Darknel, it would add significantly to the history of this particular portion of the Galaxy. It would be a massive boost to anyone’s career. And even more impressively though, if such a treasure could be found, those responsible for the locating of the artifacts would be able to open a massive wealth of knowledge that would keep an entire team of qualified archeologists and curators busy for years if not centuries to come. That… and the wealth.

“I do want to aknowledge though,” Alastair nods to Vinn Esper, “If there is a find of such historical value, that just looking into a lead, no matter how dry it may possibly be, is worth the effort.”

Alastair was very much becoming more and more excited for the upcoming expedition into the frozen world of Atoa in order to look for any sign of solving this thousand year old enigma. He’d prepared himself well enough to pack his own gear, but he had to admit that he wasn’t prepared to depart into a frozen wasteland of any kind, and he fully intended to sift through the gear provided by his new colleague in order to ensure that he was as prepared as possible before departing.

 

[Ludcake]

The Chiss attentively and silently listened to both his... Comrades' remarks to him and his apparent employer's debriefing of their mission, carefully explaining the history behind the Tyrant of Darknell... And his own findings about it. Slightly biting his lip, the man decided to speak up.

"I see... Very well, then. The final results of this historical finding should be enough to make it worth my while, I suppose." He said, his arrogant tone ever present. "The sheer number of possible additions to my collection ought to be enough... If your museum doesn't intend to hoard all the artifacts for yourself, that is. Do you, Mandalorian?" He asked, in a slightly threatening tone.

"That won't be an issue, Barabel..." He started, heavily sighing."If there's anything left there, I should be able to track whatever remains down." Savin duly stated, slightly shaking his head.

"Doctor Connally... It's doubtful that the Mandalorians would bother themselves with such historical findings when there's little chance to find the ancient pistol of some long-forgotten Mandalore, I'm afraid." The Chiss calmly said, as though he wasn't upsetting anyone else in the room.

 

[Kori Buor]

Listening to the story Jakob shared with the other four members of this little team, Aethon turned everything over in his mind for several minutes before he even spoke. There was a lot to process, and part of him doubted if such a story was even true if it really had been as long as everyone had said. These stories tended to take on a life of their own and people can see connections and facts where there is only coincidence and rumor, fitting facts to theories instead of theories to facts. Still, Aethon was willing to see where this all went if at least proved to be half as interesting as it sounded like it could be, true or not.

Also, this would be a good way to escape from his recent duties with the Dominion, and get some of his thoughts sorted about Jakob's sister, Jeyne, whom the man had just met again recently. Things had not gone well with a few revelations in particular about her current status, and he really needed to get away from all of that and just think and feel some excitement again.

Taking a few moments to give his attention to each person as they commented on the mission or the history lesson, even posing a few questions of their own to Jakob about the veracity of such a tale, the Mandalorian man wondered what the chances were that they would actually find anything. Speaking up he stated, "I'm sure Doctor Merrik here will want at least a small part of the find for his exhibit. Having some new artifacts to display is good for business... the rest... well I'm sure the lot of you can figure out what to do with it. Though, I'm sure there are some valid points that have been brought up that you would like to address. Anyways, I'm ready, Jakob, when everyone else is done asking their questions we can begin immediately."

Aethon had no real stake in this mission; for all intents and purposes this was his vacation. Getting paid only happened to be a bonus.

 

[Raven 2552]

Their questions and concerns were valid. Jakob would have had them himself if he had been approached for this opportunity. He sat back for a moment on his heels and thought before answering. “I understand the hesitation, I really do. Things that have been lost for over a thousand years tend to stay lost. And as of right now Atoa is the only lead.” He shrugged. “It was only by pure happenstance I even stumbled across the drive signatures. They were in a tome of shipping levies during a period of Mandalorian trade expansion. And I can assure you, Dr. Conally, Mandalorian archives are sealed from the general public, and our economic and military records are not allowed to be viewed by anyone but Mandalorian curators and leaders. We find it… prudent to keep the details of our society hidden from those not of the Manda. When an enemy does not know your true strength, they cannot plan to overcome it.”

His head cocked to the side slightly as the thought back on the last few months. “And so far, the only ones who know are we five, my sister, and one of my assistants. This expedition is being financed from my personal accounts to keep it as quiet as possible, and I would trust Jeyne and Torin with my life.” Eying the Chiss as he addressed the new concerns. “I have not been idle the last two months. Although the records of the time are fragmented due to war and secrecy from what I’ve been able to record the total value of the Tyrant's hoard would be over five trillion credits. A portion would be dispatched to museums across the galaxy, with a large portion of it going back to the rightful owners. However, standard finder’s fee is 10%. That’s five hundred billion credits to be split 5 ways. I’m sure that I could convince Darknell to allow us to hold onto a few artifacts. I think that would be more than enough to cover your time on this expedition. And that’s only from the records I could find. Who knows what else could be stored?” While he spoke he casually placed his hand on his blaster, having caught the threat in the Chiss’ words. A smile flickered across his face.

“And it is obvious you have never actually explored any of our culture, Savin. Our museums are filled to almost bursting with the remains of other cultures. Granted, most of them were conquered by us, but they are kept alive in memory.” Mandalorian culture learned from those across the galaxy that impressed them, integrating aspects and war tactics into their own. For a people that were built from all races integration was as natural to them as breathing.

A chime went off overhead and Jakob turned his head to look down the corridor to the bridge. “We’re exiting hyperspace around Atoa in 30 seconds. After that we’re going to move to the first possible site and we’ll be dropping into the crust of the planet. It’s an unmapped crevice, so keep your eyes open and the stanchions and grappling hooks ready. If you fall, we’re not coming to get you.”

 

[Vinn Esper]

A hundred billion credits, yeah right. Still, as Vinn gauged the attitudes and responses of those around the room, Vinn noticed there was in fact opportunity. Other then Doctor Conally, both men looked as if they may have some cause to employ him for. Vinn saw this as an opportunity to expand his business contacts, if nothing more.

"Okay, I'm in." Vinn answered as he joined Alastair at the crate, gathering the equipment he would need to climb down the ice shaft. He also grabbed two flare guns, loaded with six flares each and secured them on his belt.

 

[TheBeta]

Alastair wasn’t really consoled by the idea that the records were sealed to only the Mandalorians. It was actually another Mandalorian team that frightened him. It was odd that no Mandalorian wanted to pony up the rather insignificant amount of money to fund this trip. Surely he had to ask his own kin to fund the trip before resorting to funding it himself. Trillions of credits had a tendency to bring out the scarier parts of a man… or alien. The Mandalorians weren’t too much different. Even if Alastair didn’t know it for sure himself, even Mandalorians had to fear each other.

However, Alastair felt confident in his colleague’s judgment, and if they were likely alone in their search, then what did he have to fear?

Alastari felt the ship drop out of hyperspace, indicating their arrival, and their soon assumed departure to the surface of the planet. Thankfully, Alastair was ready to go, having combined his own equipment with that of his employer’s. Alastiar felt as if he were ready to take on an avalanche with this gear.

“Well then my fellow Doctor, I will follow you,” Alastair addressed Jakob. Although, that was more because he wasn’t certain of how he was going to go about getting into the crevice. Were they to take the entire ship down, a drop ship of sorts, or were they going with another method. Alastair was clearly unfamiliar with the ship, and would be forced to rely on the curator.

 

[Kori Buor]

There was an audible chuckle from Aethon as he listened to Jakob. While he could respect the man for his work and diligent effort in tracking down all of this information and putting the leads together, the suggestion of over a billion credits as a finders fee was almost completely ridiculous. He didn't believe he was going to see a fraction of that amount, but even so he was still fine with lending his skills and services in this quest. At the very least it would be an excellent escape, and if he got paid enough to cover his expenses he would be happy. It wasn't too often one was able to take a vacation, have fun, and then not worry about how much money they had to spend on their time off.

With a chuckle at Jakob's remark about Saviin not knowing the culture of the Mandalorians for not knowing that their museums were filled with the relic and artefacts of other civilizations, the Mandalorian Protector smirked and gave a nod in agreement. "I think one of my most favorite pieces are the dueling blades of some Echani lord a Mand'alor slew in single combat with his battle axe. The Mand'alor took the Echani's head clean off with a single swipe after the Echani tried some elaborate dance attack. The stories always make the fight sound quite humorous."

When Jakob announced they would be entering the system of their destination in less than a minute, Kast clapped his hands together in excitement as he approached the Merrik. "Excellent, lead the way, vod. This sounds like it is shaping up to be quite the interesting adventure. Let's get that cold weather gear so we don't freeze, and then we can see about setting out on this expedition you've deemed worthy enough to gather our skills for. Hopefully, we won't be leaving anyone behind, but I, for one, do not intend on dying on this ice rock. There are some... unresolved issues I have. Wouldn't mind seeking your advice on it while we're on this treasure hunt, vod."

 

[Raven 2552]

Jakob nodded and smiled at his fellow Mando. “When we have some time I’d be more than happy to offer council.” His armor creaked slightly as he shifted his position, and the thick jumpsuit underneath the armored panels stretched with his movement. Atoa was a planet where the temperature averaged 30 degrees below 0, and even with the heated aspects of his gear without extra layers he still would have frozen. He bade the gathered group a brief goodbye and made his way into the cockpit where he slid into the pilot’s chair and pulled the lever to drop them out of hyperspace. As the blurred lines of the stars shortened into pinpricks he was greeted with the sight of the ice-white barren ball of Atoa in front of him. It grew rapidly in front of the ship as the sublight drives pushed them at ever increasing velocities towards their destination.

As they got closer Jakob pulled the ship into a skimming dive along the edge of the atmosphere as he let the sensors built into the array scan the ball of ice below them. Scattered life signs , no signs of industrialization, and virtually nothing that could truly be considered civilization. It was truly a place that could be considered the end of the universe. The sensors chirped at him as they picked up the first of the three possible hiding spots they would be exploring. His hands danced over the controls and the ship dipped into the thin air and knifed through the clouds. Down and down they soared until what had looked like a smooth ball of ice formed into a vision of a rocky and cracked world, the plains blasted smooth by the continual wind that whipped along the ridges of the mountains and caused a continuous maelstrom.

After what seemed like an eternity to an excited mind but in fact was no more than 10 or 15 minutes, the Darasuum Ijaat slowed to a hover over a large crevice in the ice below. The sides were sharp and the delineation between them and the darkness below was as if cut by a blade. Sensors were useless past 20 meters, and as the sensors projected that the crevice was not large enough for the ship to drop into, Jakob moved it to the side and placed down about 50 meters from the lip. He left the ship’s reactors running as he left the cockpit, worried as he was that they would come back to a frozen hunk of metal rather than the sleek Mandalorian transport.

The bay was already beginning to chill as he stepped into it and surveyed the group before he slid his buy’ce down over his head, sealing the helmet to his neck seal with a satisfying hiss. As his HUD popped to life over his eyes he turned a quizzical head cock at the group. “Are you waiting for an invitation?” A few strides brought him to the hatch and his armored hand slapped down on the release button. The ramp yawed open, and Jakob braced himself against the push of air that roared into the previously warm interior. He pointed to ropes and climbing gear that was tied neatly to the wall next to the hatch. “You’re going to want those.”

He put his words into action, grabbing a thick coil of rope and its attached gear and moved down the ramp into the cold. Wind hammered at him and he bent his head down and pushed through until he stood at the edge of the chasm. He looked down and looked at the cool blue walls that arced downwards in a smooth arc until they faded into blackness. Two flares were pulled from one of his pouches and burned to life with a smart tap against his thigh plate.Dropping them from the top he watched them fall into the inky void. They clattered against several ledges and then dropped out of sight. It was a long way down.

He looped the rope around his body and eased himself over the edge. Crampons attached to his boots bit into the ice and he controlled his descent with short easy kicks into the wall. As the light disappeared above him he flicked on the spotlight attached to the side of his buy’ce and pushed deeper into the unknown.

After almost an hour of descent the bottom came into sight. He let himself slide down the wall until his boots came into contact with a rocky surface. Testing the ground underneath his feet he found that the ground was rocky and surprisingly free of ice. That was certainly interesting. This deep the ground should be nothing but a sheet of ice. More questions on a trip already filled with them. Jakob couldn’t help himself as his excitement continued to grow. What else did the dark hold for them?

 

[TheBeta]

@Alastair was no stranger to ropes and repelling into some deep was an ordinary experience for him. All he had to do was not let his overconfidence overcome him and take it easy. Too many times he's seen even highly experienced climbers such as himself make mistakes that cost them a lot more than they intended. On a planet sheathed in ice, it was a call to be far more aware of one's surroundings... and their feet.

The only one more eager than Alastair seemed to be Jakob, understandably so too. Whenever he's made a big discovery of himself, there was a sense of ownership and pride that would cause him to see things through to the end. There was really no feeling quite like that short of bearing a child. Sliding the rope around his waist and turning on the head lamp was nothing short of routine for Alastair, even as he descended into the icy chasm of the glacial surface of the planet. The head lamp couldn't nearly compete with the depth of the fissure providing a depthy blackness where he tried to see where the rest of the rope had fallen beneath him. For the time being, Alastair was comfortable, the whipping ice-filled winds well above him by then, there was no chill to pierce his woefully prepared protection against the cold. However, Alastair knew that if they all didn't keep moving that hypothermia was easily a possibility. It was day on the planet's surface and still it was extraordinarily frigid.

Foot by foot, he traversed the opening, cautious not to make a single misstep, wondering precisely what he was going to find. Any clue really would be interpretable presuming that the icy planet preserved it as well as the planet's surface. If there were ships, even a thousand years ago, heat staining would be evident on the walls. If there were levy systems in place, evidence of scraping would be found. However, there was no certainty that the treasure was here let alone that if it ever was that it would have been lowered into this particular section of the opening. Even so, Alastair was meticulously vigilant, not only for any signs, but for his fellow, lesser experienced, climbers. Even on his own expeditions, Alastair usually hired and expert to guide their way into unfamiliar terrain. However, here, he and perhaps Jakob were the experts, and neither one of them were familiar with the terrain. There was no way to knowing what they were to expect; Unstable seismic activity, loos rock and ice facings, or even local fauna were all things to worry about when climbing.

"You see anything yet?" Alastair called down to Jakob who already had his own head start.

@Vinn Esper @Kori Buor @Ludcake @Raven 2552

 

[Raven 2552]

Jakob knelt on the rocky ground, and slowly pulled his glove off to run his bare fingers against the rocky ground. Although chilled to the touch, it was not as cold as he expected it to be. He slid the glove back on and stood back up, casting the beam of his searchlight around the bottom of the chasm. Looking for anything that might show there had once been anyone down here. Besides the unusual warmth and missing ice on the ground, this area looked completely naturally formed. When Dr. Conally called down to him, he twisted his head up slightly, illuminating the area around the doctor and their other companions. Raising his voice he called back. “Nothing yet!”

According to the scans, this chasm ran for almost 10 kilometers and dropped another thousand meters into the planet. Having dropped into the far end at the shallowest point, that left a lot of ground to cover. And this was only the first landing site. And if the Tyrant had only used Atoa as a stopping point, maybe a repair location, then they could be in for a long trip. He scanned the area around him once again, and found the remains of his flairs laying on the ground burned black at one end. Another one was pulled from his pouch and ignited, sparking to life in the blackness and causing a red glow to suffuse throughout the bottom of the chasm. Under his breath Jakob whistled a low tune. One from childhood and remembered fondly from playing with Raynar in the woods. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Waiting for the others he walked a slow circuit around the chasm while running his hands along the walls. Even through the gloves he would be able to feel a change in the ice that wasn’t natural. He held the flare in a position that would give the greatest light while not causing any damage to the wall from the chemical reactions occurring within the bright orange stick. The ice was smooth and unbroken, grown through millennia layer by layer. Untouched since it was laid down, Jakob was touching the very history of the planet. An uneventful history, but still history.

Jakob turned to stare down the chasm, his beam darting into the blackness and then being snuffed out in the distance. He pulled a small red flag from his belt and used his armored gauntlet to drive it into the ice. This seemed like the easiest place to climb back out, might as well make sure they couldn’t miss it.

 

[Vinn Esper]

Vinn watched the others descend down the ropes, he went down last not exactly excited about the prospect of the descent. Still down he went with the rest of the group. When the group reached the ground, they were surprised to find stone instead of ice. The two scientists were yelling at each other. Vinn kept close to Jakob and kept quiet observing the environment.

Vinn activated the thermal vision in his helmet and began to move forward into the chasm, one of the flare guns in his hand. "I'll take point downtown chasm if no one objects. That way you know the space ahead is safe while your planting flags." The gun was pointed towards the ground.

The landscape around him appeared in blues and purples, as he advanced into the chasm. It was eerily quiet and the barabels, normally silent footsteps, echoed unnervingly. Vinn was a little on edge down here. While logic told him that there couldn't be much down here that would pose a threat to them, he couldn't help feeling vulnerable. So, he continued down the chasm, not moving too far from the group. Vinn kept his attention on the task, the would be glad when this part was done.

 

[TheBeta]

As Alastair touched ground on a ledge, he could already tell a slight difference in the air. Perhaps he was simply overcompensating for the lack of wind blowing onto him, but Alastair could have sworn that it was actually getting warmer, even if only barely, as he descended, and if he were wearing a helmet like the other two, he may not have ever felt it. Even so though, regardless of whether or not it was warmer or not, I was still a very cold place where they were.

Alastair observed as Vinn and Jakob did their own things. However, Alastair needed to get some readings. Whipping his back pack around, he unclasped the top to pull out a few various tools. The first was a small pick in which he used to chip off a small piece of ice to evaluate. Placing it into a handheld device, he scanned it for a reading. The ice chip melted faster than he intended under the sheltered warmth coming from the device, but what readings he'd gotten thus far could give them a base reading if anything else. It seemed mostly ordinary for now, but Alastair couldn't help but to notice that there were trace amounts of carbon. It was hardly enough for any conclusive decision to be made, but it was certainly something of a foundation for a fantasy to be built off of. For now, it was probably best not to tell anyone as it could be a number of natural sources rather than that of exhaust from a ship that may have sent fumes over a thousand years or not. If anything it was a massive stretch.

Still though, Alastair was excited to get another, deeper, sample for him to cross reference it off of. Alastair replaced his belongings into his bag, realizing that he could very well be left behind if he didn't keep up with them. Vinn was already heading deeper as it was. However, his hand brushed against a beacon in his bag. It was nice to have it for security or in case something happens, but if there was no one to answer it, then it was useless.

"Jakob, you said that no one knew we were here, right?"

 

[Kori Buor]

Nodding in response to his fellow Mandalorian, Aethon smiled, pleased to hear that Jakob was willing to offer his council on a rather personal matter. Grabbing his own set of climbing gear, the Mandalorian Protector more than gladly followed the others to the edge of the crevasse, a slight spring in his step as though he suddenly felt reassured. Looking down into the depths below he let out a whistle, "Damn, that's deep."

Following after the others, Aethon Kast wrapped the line around him and prepped it to make sure he wouldn't fall to his death. Their descent seemed to take an eternity, although it was probably only about an hour. By the end of it, even the Protector found himself slightly winded; after all, controlling one's descent into a unfathomably deep chasm was work on the body if one did not wish to lose control and plummet to their death.

As his foot touched the ground, Aethon breathed a sigh of relief and looked around at the rest. "Well, that was interesting... can't wait for us to go back up that. I'm sure it will be a simple delight."

The chasm they were in seemed to go on forever in all directions as he could only see darkness when he looked further down. How such a place was a natural formation was beyond him. Wherever this treasure was located, if it was in this chasm, or if there were more geological features like the one they were in; it would take an age before they found it. Looking at Vinn he replied, "That's fine with me. Let's go for a walk then, eh gents? Don't think we want to waste any more time than we need to."

Stepping up next to Jakob he hoped a private line of communication with him, "So, if you don't mind me asking, vod Jakob, when was the last time you spoke with you sister?"