While the old man leads us through the city, I take the time to study everything I can, leaving the troopers to watch for further attacks. But there are none, leaving me to focus on my analysis.
The architecture as we move closer to the base of the mountain subtly changes, shifting from alien to Imperial influences in design. And up ahead, we can make out the entrance to the Imperial base of the mountain itself. But the old man suddenly turns down a side street, leading us parallel to the base, rather than towards it. "I would have though the Guardian lived inside the mountain."
"He did, once." The man becomes silent again. So I take the opportunity to study him.
He's obviously human, or of a close human-like species. There are several in the galaxy. He's also obviously advanced in age for a human. I would surmise in his sixth or seventh decade. But he does not appear old. Oh, he looks like an older man, with they grey, almost white long hair and beard. But he does not carry himself that way. No, this man has a strength about him. His body does not fight against gravity. In fact, he walks tall and proud, and even despite his robes it is obvious he's body is still strong. And his eyes...
There is power in those eyes.
The old man leads us under a large ornate archway, and before us stands the palace we saw from the air. He continues walking until he reaches the large set of doors. "Leave."
I can sense Pellaeon starting to speak, assuming the man was talking to our group. But a moment later, other men carrying crossbows and blades step out of niches in the walls that were camouflaging them. Glowering at us, they walk away, leaving the old man behind.
I instantly become more alert. For what does it mean for an old man to dismiss his protectors when surrounded by a hostile force?
Pulling on the massive doors, the old man opens them with ease. Further confirming my suspicions of his hidden strength. "The Emperor's Guardian awaits."
He leads us in. And as the doors continue to open, allowing the light to pour in, we see a massive chamber, filled with hundreds of unlit candles. And nothing else in the room except a large, rectangular slab of black stone in the center. And it all becomes clear. We are not in a palace.
We are in a crypt.
"The Guardian is dead."
"Indeed he is," the old man says, moving behind me and the Captain.
"All of these candles. The people must have worshiped him."
"You misunderstand. Each candle is for an offworlder. Each one now lying in a grave."
"How did they die?" I ask, the answer painfully clear.
"I killed them. Just as I killed the Guardian. Just as I kill you."
Before any of my men can react, the old man raises his hands. Blue energy like lightening lashes out at me...only to disappear into nothingness a meter away from their target.
Pellaeon and the other troops try to react, to retaliate, but I put my hand up. "Hold," I say, forcing my voice to remain calm. I slowly turn around, looking the old man in the eyes. "We...are not ordinary offworlders."
I slowly smile as the old man's anger builds...
