Lettow certainly didn't look the part. Unimaginable generations ago the Legions of Lettow marked the first major split into the dark side. This order has survived, and had been galvanized into the Eternal Legion, the other half to Magos's Guardians of the Eternal. He was surprised that they had taken no interest in the world, but he now understood fully. It barely remembered it's past itself! The world know seemed identical to any second or third tier core world. It was no ecumenopolis like Coruscant, but it was still heavily human, wealthy and urbanized. He hoped to find any relics of the past but the search was starting to look foolish.
He and Korsak had easily gotten an archaeology permit from the blustering civil service representative at nearby Portai, it's capital. A bit of mental manipulation goes a long way. It was now mud afternoon and the crouched a mere 5 meters from a busy speeder lane digging through the unkempt field. This was the site of the First Temple of Xendor, and yet the two, even with their psychometric talents had come up blank, besides a tile that carried a faint essence of the dark side.
He looked over to his friend and wiped a bit of sweat from his bill. "Not sure what to make of all this, this IS the place, correct?" He reached over and slid the tile through his hand, savoring the ancient aura that surrounded it. The shape it made was a rectangle, it's four sides a value of the dark side, how fitting. A speeder truck roared by. "Almost makes me wish for Morabandan Flesh Flies!" Magos hoped is friend was coping well since Mustafar, he had gotten away with a cane, the Amaran had lost his arm, and, Magos feared, his grounding. But he was the heretic in this situation, so he stayed silent. He took a clump of soil into his hand and ran it through his fingers, shutting his eyes and feeling the faint memory of the wonder that once stood here. Time conquers all, the Force, he hoped, could conquer time.
@The Captain
@Noctyr
@Algarus
He and Korsak had easily gotten an archaeology permit from the blustering civil service representative at nearby Portai, it's capital. A bit of mental manipulation goes a long way. It was now mud afternoon and the crouched a mere 5 meters from a busy speeder lane digging through the unkempt field. This was the site of the First Temple of Xendor, and yet the two, even with their psychometric talents had come up blank, besides a tile that carried a faint essence of the dark side.
He looked over to his friend and wiped a bit of sweat from his bill. "Not sure what to make of all this, this IS the place, correct?" He reached over and slid the tile through his hand, savoring the ancient aura that surrounded it. The shape it made was a rectangle, it's four sides a value of the dark side, how fitting. A speeder truck roared by. "Almost makes me wish for Morabandan Flesh Flies!" Magos hoped is friend was coping well since Mustafar, he had gotten away with a cane, the Amaran had lost his arm, and, Magos feared, his grounding. But he was the heretic in this situation, so he stayed silent. He took a clump of soil into his hand and ran it through his fingers, shutting his eyes and feeling the faint memory of the wonder that once stood here. Time conquers all, the Force, he hoped, could conquer time.
@The Captain
@Noctyr
@Algarus