Prologue: The Nightmare Lands Nov 3, 2016 4:15:34 GMT
Post by Darth Exolus on Nov 3, 2016 4:15:34 GMT
I have foreseen it. You will return home. The Lords of the Sith will find you in shadowed forests. Take you. What your are will cease to be, and you will have a new name.
An old man defied death. He dared to challenge both space and time to come before his young Acolyte, as all good mentors hoped to do. He had wandered for too long, searched aimlessly. He'd been away from his orange pastures too long, from the flamewoods. So it was that the spirit of a dead Sith hermit appeared in front of his former pupil; the Voss boy Sen-rah. So it was that he directed him away from the stars, and back to his roots. Not to the unchanging halls of Voss-Ka, or to search inside himself by the flamewoods, stuck in perpetual autumn. The number of Voss on their homeworld was to increase by one soon enough.
Beseeched by the old man, Sen-rah was directed back to an area of space dominated by a vast covenant of worlds looking Coreward to a foe larger than the trifles of the Gormak. Home. A black forest could be nothing else but the Nightmare Lands, the ancient and forbidden woods, tainted forever by the blackness of Sel-Makor of the Dark Heart. Though the entity had long-since been vanquished by noble souls, the shadow never lifted from the dead woods - forever was the grass a sickly hay color. The superstitions about this place persisted, and few Voss set foot in the woods - fewer still came the Gormak. All the young Sen-rah had to contest with were a few opportunistic scavenger creatures, picking at the carcasses of creatures foolish enough to stray in.
Not a soul bothered him upon his return. No dignitaries greeted him, no scornful Mystics forbade him entry. Whether by luck or by fate, the pilot that had brought him home had no trouble in dropping him just shy of the gloaming woodlands stretching out before him. Even though the blight of Sel-Makor was gone, a niggling darkness pulsated from the center of the woods, like a heartbeat. Someone - something was in the Nightmare Lands with him, and it called out to him, begging him to enter. There, gliding through the trees, he caught a glimpse of something spectral, drifting toward a crumbling, dilapidated hole in the hills that ran parallel to the Nightmare Lands. Whatever it was, it was not Voss nor Gormak. A vision of old perhaps, some lingering presence left from the rot of the Dark Heart. Though overgrown, and caked in moss, a curious-shaped lettering was scored into the stone arch, leading into the mouth of a cave.
You must not be here. Retreat, relent. The Dark One has returned young Mystic. Tala-Reh's faithful warns you. Turn back.