Archive scroll: Dathomir

An account of Darth Drose's time on Dathomir.


Value: 2000 Cr


Day one:
Dathomir is, to most, lush and beautiful; even a paradise of sorts. Personally I find it repulsive. Not even a flycatcher grows in these woods. Just useless, foul smelling flowers. No matter. This planet will be teeming with my work by morning.

Day two:
Interesting. Dathomir’s flora is more resilient than its appearance would suggest. My bloodweeds completely failed to take. A first, certainly. I have designed the bloodweed to reproduce rapidly in the harshest environments. I have had success everywhere from Hoth to Tattooine and yet, on this most fertile planet, my precious creations have withered to ash. Why, I wonder. I must investigate this further.

Day five:
Blast. Two days of sweat and toil with nothing to show for it. Even the Force is quiet on this matter. I must meditate on this. The Dark Side will reveal all.

Day six:
I have a lead. My meditations have revealed an enormous building a few kilometers from my camp. It’s Force signature is massive. How did I not sense it before?

Day seven: It is a Star Temple, built by the ancient Kwa. This explains everything. The Kwa were strong in the Light Side of the Force. They infused it into every crevice of their architecture. The planet is covered in these buildings, which has left an incredibly powerful Light Side residue over every inch of the place. Not only has it completely blinded my ability to sense in the Force, but it has destroyed my beautiful experiments. I think it would be best to cut my losses, but first, I must avenge my children…

Day eight: I used to scoff at my superiors when they preached the importance of meditation. I owe them an apology. Meditation saved my life this day. I exerted nearly all of my not inconsiderable power to locate a weakness in the structure I could exploit, and was nearly defeated by that impenetrable aura. I caught a brief glimpse of something monstrous. I received a strong impression of unfathomable old age and an idea of a sentient mind trapped within a primal body. I am no coward, but neither am I a fool. Good riddance to this place.

Archive scroll: Dathomir

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