Five.
Two stalked forward from the left. Two from the right. The one approaching from the center moved the slowest, the biggest threat among the pack. Its glowing red eyes betrayed an intelligence that extended beyond most predators. It stopped, raised its head, and unleashed a distorted howl. The flanking duos sprinted at him, a pair leaping for his upper half while the other two lunged for his ankles.
Erin threw his hand out towards the airborne creatures, a wave of energy picking up dust and slamming into them. It lessen the momentum behind their jumps, leaving them to land on all fours but they were unharmed, the push completely brushed off. At the same time, he retreated from the sharp teeth, razor sharp claws, and wiping tails of the other two.
They were relentless. Angry. Hateful.
Erin jumped over a clawed slash for his stomach and the other canine-like beast leaped after him. Utilizing both hands he threw the Force out, sending him flying further back through the tomb’s long corridors while the beast flew back, flipping and landing amongst the rest of its pack.
Erin landed, preparing his warblade as he skidded to a stop.
He understood why overseer Tremel sent him after these things. Their connection to the Dark Side -the way it swirled around the creatures, feeding into their strength and heightening their instincts- resulted in an all too prevalent resistance to the Force. He had heard of creatures like them; hounds changed through alchemy to battle alongside his ancient predecessors. Supposedly very effective tools against Jedi too reliant on their Force abilities.
This assignment was meant to test and refine his saber skills.
The creatures began their stalk once more, but Erin didn’t sit by and observe, rushing straight down their center. The leader of the pack proved that its larger size and commanding howls weren’t for show, spiked tail whipped out to defend against his slash. His warblade cut through the boney spines and sunk through the tough hide, burning into flesh and spreading steaming blood through the air.
The energy produced by this warblade didn’t burn as hot as a lightsaber, but direct blows were usually enough to leave cauterized wounds on its victims. The creatures were resistant to more than the Force.
It leaped back with an angered snarl, the other four converging on him. They were no where near as fast or as strong as their leader, their wild assault child’s play to dip, jump, and redirect. Each clash with his warblade left them with burns and shallow cuts. Not even their hides were a match for the leader’s.
They were just distractions.
It might’ve worked had it not been for the thing giving these creatures their strength. He felt the pack leader circling around while he fended off the rest. He felt it prepare to pounce.
Their use of the Dark Side was basic. Primitive. He might even be going too far by saying they were using it; it flowed through them but they had none of the awareness needed to truly take advantage.
Twisting around, Erin caught the airborne beast by its throat, a loud snap filling the corridor as it fell limp. The loss of their strongest meant nothing to the creatures. They pursued him despite the burns and cuts that slowed them. Erin swung corpse and warblade, the rest of the pack swiftly taken down.
Corpse tossed aside and warblade put away, he returned to the chamber where the other acolytes had been slaughtered and took a moment to examine their bodies.
Typical clothing. Old vibroweapons and staffs. A necklace.
Erin raised a hand, the accessory flying off one of the mauled corpses and into his grasp. A white skull, stained by blood. Appearance wise, it was nothing special.
Like those hounds, the Dark Side surrounded the thing. Another of alchemy’s creation.
Erin slipped the necklace into his satchel.
His training in alchemy was eclipsed by other subjects, but he knew enough not to wear something like this without thorough preparation. Sith were selfish and jealousy guarded their powers. That went double for the dead of the order, few the galaxy over able to claim having survived an encounter with a Sith spirit. It would be unusual for one of their ancient artifacts to be free of some form of curse or drawback.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Luckily, he wasn’t here for artifacts.
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Hunger and bloodlust, insatiable and all consuming.
Erin had little issue tracking down the dark creatures. When they weren’t throwing themselves at him, their unshackled desire to rip apart anything that wandered into the tomb set them apart from desperate acolytes. It wasn’t perfect, the tomb a host to dark energy, but he could scour the Force and get a feel for their general direction.
Growls and the familiar hum of vibro-weapons came from ahead.
It also helped that the hounds were almost always fighting someone.
He rounded a corner, pausing to watch the distant battle.
The familiar duo, Dia and Kory, were fending off a small pack of the hounds. They stood their ground well, Kory’s wide swinging electrostaff providing cover and opportunity for Dia to cut down their attackers. The latter used her nimble form to retreat before the animals could target her. He wouldn’t call either of them skilled, but they were standing their ground, composed in the face of danger that overwhelmed their peers.
Standing their ground wouldn’t ensure their survival, only prolong it.
Dia appeared to come to the same conclusion, retreating behind Kory and spreading her arms. The Force around them twisted and turn, seized by her will.
Light bluish-purple lightning descended from above, raining down upon the creatures. They defied the sudden storm of electricity, their resistance keeping them on their feet. The potent darkness being unleashed from the small twi’lek intensified the storm, bolts of lightning striking their tough hides with enough force to stop the creatures in their tracks, leaving them at the mercy of the violent storm.
The storm faded away once the hounds laid across the tomb’s floor, smoke rising from their wounds. The darkness that powered the electricity retreated, subdued within Dia.
The two took a few moments to gather their bearings then set off in his direction, both readying their weapons as they took notice of him. Dia glared up into the shadow of his hood while Kory’s narrowed eyes focused on the warblade he carried.
Erin stepped aside.
They were cautious, an eye kept on him as they moved forward.
“A bit of advice.” He started once they were beside him. Dia wore a necklace of some kind, denoting old symbols. Kory had a plain silver ring embedded with a red gem around a finger. Both were infused with the Force, seeped so deeply in the Dark Side that he didn’t need to wear them to know they offered powerful benefits to the wearer. “Few Sith would freely share in their power. Don’t wear those artifacts any longer than you need to.”
He doubted Harkon would have informed the slaves he looked down upon about the risks that came with recovering old artifacts. Dia said nothing, moving forward without pause. Kory looked down at her ring, frowning, then nodded and caught up with her companion.
Beneath the cover of his robes and modulator equipped mask, he went unrecognized.
Once they were well and gone, Erin admired the smoking corpses for a moment before continuing his descent into the tomb.
Overseer Tremel might not show hate for slaves in the overt fashion that Harkon did, but if he couldn’t see the merit in allowing a talent like Dia’s or acolytes like her to grow and serve The Empire because of some ideals about blood purity then he was a short-sighted fool.
So long as they were useful and made loyal, little else mattered.
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A hound leaped at him.
Erin sidestepped a swipe and caught the creature by its short tail, slamming it into the ground without stopping his stroll back up to the surface. It growled, chasing after him. Bites for his ankles were rewarded with a harsh kick. Claws for his chest would result in a punch. If the thing jumped for his face, he’d toss it aside.
He didn’t see any point in drawing his blade for the creature.
The hound was small, pitch black hide covered in fresh burns, cuts, and bruises. It struggled to keep pace with him, pants mixed in with growls.
The runt had been apart of the final pack he cut down. He hadn’t spared it or anything. Erin had expected its wounds to leave it immobile which would allow hunger or blood loss to finish the job. Curiously enough, it hounded his steps, attacking with a steadily falling ferocity.
It would soon die. How far would it follow him in search of revenge for its fallen kin until then?
Erin retraced his steps through the vast tome, crossing long corridors and heading up stairs. The runt of a hound continued to trail behind, limping along. It wasn’t long until he made it back to the upper levels where the other acolytes awaited.
Gazes landed on him from every direction.
The bigger groups wasted no time on pretenses or trickery, approaching with their weapons drawn and active. They stepped over a few charred corpses. Dia’s work if he had to guess.
Erin reached into his satchel, revealing the skull necklace taken from the dead acolytes. Its dark power prodded at him, whispering promises of power.
With it he could slaughter these fools without batting an eye.
Erin held back a snort as he ran a hand over the bloodied artifact. That errant thought wasn’t his own. Not completely. This necklace offered power by clouding the wearer’s mind with a heightened sense of rage.
Worthless. Power would be of no use if he was too drunk on his own anger to think clearly.
He tossed the necklace and it froze in the air above. Then shook, swayed in one direction only to be violently yanked in another. All over the room, hands reached out to the necklace, the Force wrapped around the object in a conflicting swirl of energy.
For a moment, the room was deathly silent. The calm before the storm.
Hands were severed, blood filled the air, and a chaotic battle broke out.
Erin walked straight down the center of it, any foolish enough to turn away from the chaos and brandish a blade his way, cut down by those around them. The runt stayed at his heels, defying the violent nature imbued within it, Erin a focal point for its red-hot rage.
If the resilient hound survived the trip back to the academy, perhaps he would make use of it. A hunting dog empowered by the Dark Side could be of great value.