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He didn't know how, but he had survived the crash. Along with the astro-mech. The little thing chirped and beeped incoherantly as it followed its master through the rocky and graged waists of the planets surface.

Trance had it set on scaning mode to detect any sentiant creatures, but he douted thats what it was doing. It was in, if possible, worse shap than the ship was before it had crashed. They to pieces of machinery looked about even when he woke up to an elctro shock from the droid prod arm.

He had managed to survive, but not without enjerys. He was he had some broken ribs and a cuncution. His vition had doubled and was on the verge of tripling. Macking it very hard to walk. Somthing inside kept pushing him though. He wasnt sure if it was the whispering or what. It was a feeling, teeling him he had to stay alive, at what ever costs.

He walked for what felt like hours. The planets harsh sun was not the kindest thing in the galxay. Every time he looked up at it he could swear to see a pair of eyes and wide toothy mouth opened with laughter. It brutal waves beat down onhis skin like a force pike at low power.

Finally, he could see somthing that resembled some sort of temple. It didn't matter. Any sort of shade was welcome at this point. He could see its gaping enntry way like the mouth of a cave. To him it looked more like the gates of Heavan.

A smile spread across his lips and the little droid started beeping franticly. This nearly made him laugh. That beeping ment sighns of life, it also meant the droid had done what it was told for once. A double positive!

But...perhaps he shouldn't have gotten exsited. That tiny little exertion of strength had cost him what was left. His vition blurred and grew dark. And before he knew it, he could feel the hat sand and rocks of the planet against his exposed arms and face. Then the whispering started.

He sits down on the cold floor near the wall in the cell, he figures that his attempt to heal the person outside the temple failed. He figured that maybe more meditation and practise with the force, and only the force could help him tame his abilities.

Perhpaes one is not able to heal with the force from such a distance. Who knows maybe they're already dead, hell if I know. All I know is that I ain't been released yet, so I still got work to do!

He looks around the room for any thing to lift and move with the force and spots a chair in the corner of the room, he closes his eyes and steadies his breathing then reaches towards the chair and slowly lifts it off the ground.

Hope the gaurds won't mind if I redecorate hehe.

He focuses in on the chair with all the effort he can put forth and moves the chair around the room in the air, after about 3 minutes of moving the chair it falls soflty on the ground as he looses control of the chair for a moment. He strains as he picks it up again and continues to move the chair.

Eric glares at the Dark Lord, never liking being talked down to like this, but he remembered Luke's warning. "Why else would one as weak as myself come here? Power is the obvious answer, and that is what I seek, and on my travels, I have found that I will get a lot more if I came to you, instead of the Jedi. And that is all I ask for, simple training, in order to become more powerful, and I will follow all orders given to me by any member of this temple." Eric's voice did not quiver like he thought it would, but he was not scared.

It was black, all black. Not a thing in sight. Nothing but the sound of voices. It had never been this clear, this steady. He could make each word out, each syllable, as though he were reading a datapad.

Where are you going? Why do you struggle? What do you want?

Each voice was diffrent, but they all came at hi one after the other with no puase between words. This place, it was this place, this planet. He had heard tales that an anciant race of jedi outcasts once resided here, it was his reason for coming, and that they had brought a largeamount of the force with them.

The little astromech continued to chirp and chime in an atempt to wake its master. It continuesly prodded him with it stun wand at low power, but only succeded in making his condition worse.

The harsh sun was begining to set. Perhaps it was a good thing, perhaps it was bad. He would be released from the strangling grasp of the ball of fire, but he would soon land in the hands of the night. The nights were as harsh as the days. Like the air of a desert, it became excedingly cold on Korriban. The shade of the many canyons and the wind that swept through them made it even colder.

Answers. I seek and want answers. He replied to the questions in an equal whisper. The voice in his head trailed off.

There were no answers, none for the moment. Only the air growing colder with each passing moment. His pale whit skin had been relentlesly burned by the hot suns rays. It already craked and pussed with blisters. His arms, neck, and one side of his face had gone from a pale white to a deep red.

Then you have only to open your eyes

It was the last he had heared before his mind shut done. How ironic that he would be at Deaths door only yards away from a temples entrance, a possible salvation from the tortures that lay behind and ahead.

There is much work for you to do. You want answers? They lie before you.

Even in limbo the whispers tortured him. The voices all spoke as one. Was there no escape? No release from the pain he was feeling, both mental and physicle? He had lost all memory of were he was, were he had been, were he was going. He remembered only the now.

I'm too tired, I can't move. He replied weakly. He didn't know why he was unable to move. A lack of physicle strength. A lack of will perhaps? AT the moment, he didn't care. He was comfterble were he was.

We will have no weakling as our disciple. Now, AWAKEN!

As though a pair of hands had wrapped around his neck, he felt his wind pipe close and the air to his lungs stoped flowing. A sensation, like being ripped from your feet and thrown severle feet, rushed through his body. The pain from before had returned and he was ripped from his dreamless sleep. He became aware of were he was, and why he had come.

That feeling, the same feeling that drove him in this derection, through the pain and trauma, through the hot and unforgiving sun, across the deserted waists, that feeling had returned to him.

He found the strength, just barely, to stand and walk. The little T3 astro mech droid chirped and beeped with glee that its master was up and about again.

"Not now...need...to keep moving" He hushed at the little droid.

Step by step, inch by inch. The looming door, his "Gates of Heavan", grew closer. His mind was wraped around that opening and the possible warmth beyond it.

He was so tired and his whole body ached, each step felt like he was being dipped in moltan corbonite. Yet, he still found the strength to go on. SOmthing other than his own will was fuelign him. A desire, a desire for what was in his heart. At the time, he knew not what it was.

"S...s...sanctuary..."

He fell face forward as he stepped through the huge ornate door way. It would be decided the next time he woke up wheather he was welcome or not. If he woke up. His body hit the rock floor with a dull thud. One that did not echo too far from the main entrance.

"Any...body home?" he whispered, knowing full well no one would hear it even if their were some on here.

He closed his eyes, but found he was unable to drift away as before. His body hurt like hell, his mind had become some what of a twisted mental wreck, and he was sure he still had a cuncution, and through all this, he was not able to slow his mind.

There were no whispers. The only sound was that of his shallow breathing, each intake burning his lungs. He closed his eyes again, still nothing. Fine, he would just lay here till somthing happaned.

((Sorry, I'm feeling uncreative right now.))

Draiman stood watching a few students doing their training, a few of their Masters watches as did a few others outside, it was out back of the Temple, where a small circle was dusted off to battle.

They used swords instead of true sabers, then agian they weren't given sabers, Draiman soon crossed his arms over his chest, he wore his dark black turtle neck and black pants and boots.

He took notice on the anger the students used in the sparring, each one had their own style, Brute Force was Draiman's personal trade mark, he had the body and strength for it, knocking one off balance is great.

Draiman brushed his bangs to the side as the breeze picked up once outside, most of everyone was dressed in black clothing, the Masters had their own design, some with shoulder pads and in darker colours other then black.

With much shouting and violence being used in the fight Draiman proceeded forward to check it out a bit more, finding two female students who seemed well fit battling, one fliped over the next and the other rolled under the one, it was interesting how Gender makes a diffrence, he took notice females use more agility then men, yet this is what he saw.

Pervious experiencing bad images in his mind he thought it would be best for him to take a few day off, the Dark Lord ordered him to do so, yet he was intispating on grabbing a saber and battling, but no luck, he would do more damage to himself then anything.

Just a few more metres to go...Maniac stands on the top of a mountain right across the shyrack cave...he can see the valley of the lords, he can see the academy... it seems rathr quiet, and maniac climbs down the mountain, ready to head into the cave.
He moves as quick as he possibly can, detection can be futile...