Eyes open with fatigue.
A man struggles to stay away a horrible pain coursing through his entire body. The pain becomes too much forcing him to return to a sleep where he is locked in a dream of memories, ones of him being taken as a child and accepting the dark side then finally the betrayal of his master. This happened repeatedly drifting in and out of these horrifying flashes the thing keeping him sane is opening his eyes to a strange flower outside the nearby window it caught his eye because it was dry and will ultimately die. "Who are you?" Those words, he would hear them but before he could look towards the one asking he would drift off. After hearing it a fifth time the dreams were not of memories but of the flower wilting away but suddenly rain came and with it new life to the flower. "Dewdrop, Dew for short i will call you that until you wish to tell me your name" the voice cut through the dream not like a painful blade but like the rays of the sun warming the flower with energy.
Eyes open with confusion.
Dew looks around finally rid of his fatigue he is in a strange place, strange because it seems to be a home he tries to focus on how he got here. The only thing that cones to mind is his final conscious memories, a mission accomplished and his master asking him for his saber to grant him the title of lord only to be stabbed by not only his master's but his own saber....embarrassing. Rage soon replaced confusion but it soon subsides looking down to see someone has nursed him to health, someone has fed him for what reason would one help a sith?? His hand raises up to touch a small braid in his hair he's had since childhood that strangely brought him comfort. But his eyes snap back to reality struggling but forces himself to stand with only a rage filled thought in his mind "This is not my end! But it will be his and anyone who gets in my way!!"
Eyes burning with Rage.
Dewdrop, The start of an ending
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Ray Lambric
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
Betrayal.
It was the natural course of the Sith Order. Kingdoms were built on the dead bodies of those who were too weak to have seen the betrayal coming. There again, some betrayals were undeserving of the strong who were made its victims and so upheld the weaker lot. The Dark Lord of the Sith himself, Darth Tormentous, was one such being that had once been betrayed and sent unto its cold embrace where he defied hel itself and spat in the devil’s eye to return to the realm of the living and reap a terrifying tally of his usurpers. In this he had taken to heart the theme of betrayal and he’d taken special interest in its execution.
He had learned of the betrayal of one of his Warriors. One such Warrior of promise underneath a treacherous backstabbing wraith of a Lord. No - Tormentous did not seek out the betrayer to end him for the destruction of promise. He would leave that for his quarry. Revenge was often a delicious undertaking and he would not rob the sensations of just one such tender slice of revenge.
First through he needed to track down the Warrior who would have had his Lord-ship made official and see the damage done. If the man was recoverable then he would do so. If not - then death. For one does not simply leave the Sith a free man and continue breathing in the same hand.
It had taken the Dark One weeks to learn that the failed betrayal had sent this young Warrior to a far flung world. And here it was that Tormentous would not waste any time in letting this potential escape his grasp. The Specter, his personal Sith Infiltrator broke out of hyperspace above the world and as he sat in the pilot’s chair he was already plotting in a landing sequence. Soon - he would recover that which was lost.
Soon, he would find strength be set upon the foundation of the Sith rather than the threat of weakness.
It was the natural course of the Sith Order. Kingdoms were built on the dead bodies of those who were too weak to have seen the betrayal coming. There again, some betrayals were undeserving of the strong who were made its victims and so upheld the weaker lot. The Dark Lord of the Sith himself, Darth Tormentous, was one such being that had once been betrayed and sent unto its cold embrace where he defied hel itself and spat in the devil’s eye to return to the realm of the living and reap a terrifying tally of his usurpers. In this he had taken to heart the theme of betrayal and he’d taken special interest in its execution.
He had learned of the betrayal of one of his Warriors. One such Warrior of promise underneath a treacherous backstabbing wraith of a Lord. No - Tormentous did not seek out the betrayer to end him for the destruction of promise. He would leave that for his quarry. Revenge was often a delicious undertaking and he would not rob the sensations of just one such tender slice of revenge.
First through he needed to track down the Warrior who would have had his Lord-ship made official and see the damage done. If the man was recoverable then he would do so. If not - then death. For one does not simply leave the Sith a free man and continue breathing in the same hand.
It had taken the Dark One weeks to learn that the failed betrayal had sent this young Warrior to a far flung world. And here it was that Tormentous would not waste any time in letting this potential escape his grasp. The Specter, his personal Sith Infiltrator broke out of hyperspace above the world and as he sat in the pilot’s chair he was already plotting in a landing sequence. Soon - he would recover that which was lost.
Soon, he would find strength be set upon the foundation of the Sith rather than the threat of weakness.
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Ray Lambric
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
Dew forced himself to move around trashing the home until he found decent clothing knowing too well someone would check for his body and hunt him down if it was not found. Looking out the window he saw he was in a small town not too advanced but from the looks of the people not too strong, this ment whoever saved his life could not have taken him far he had to escape. On foot?? No he'd surely get caught he went out with a simple brown cloak covering his identity to scout out, he saw as simple as the town was there seemed to be a unique trading system involved. Three routes were taken, a magnet propelled train for large objects, creature pulled wagons for medium and speeders for small. The train seemed the most obvious choice but other sith surely will search there first after raiding this town, the speeder would also be a good choice but will leave him visible. He looked at the wagon knowing if they did find him there is no way he'd outrun them, his anger rose more and more but he raised his head deciding on a plan. He worked quickly sneaking over to the train seeing only workers loading were there as if the town had so much trust as to not defend it, he snuck into one of the cargo holds and waited until the train sped off to its next destination.
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
The Specter cruised down into a holding pattern - there was a city nearby with a lengthy train system running through it. Likely this place was along a mining route which would lead on into the mountains and this town was but a stop along the way to the local Star Port where the minerals could be offloaded from the train and transferred into a freighter for export. Likely it was quite the lucrative business. Nothing really stood out about this town and Tormentous thought to avoid it entirely.
Though as he was to change course and search elsewhere he felt something. At first it was subtle but it grew in potency by such rapid margins that the Dark One failed to miss it. This feeling. It was Tormentous’ mainstay. His watchword. His nature.
It was anger.
Blossoming like a simple match light and flourishing into a bonfire the sense of anger flowed from the town like a rancid odor of which he couldn’t miss even if he’d tried. Surely some random getting angry wouldn’t have garnered any attention at all - this one however was linked strongly to the Force as if he was trained or rather he was once trained and so his fury was a very vivid flare as it also held true power behind it.
Like a beacon had been shot up Tormentous’ eye cut a thread and looked right to the train where he had sensed this incredible fueling emotion. The train was already in motion and speeding away from the town. It mattered little to him. The Infiltrator had a great amount of speed and soared over top the train in moments. Towards the end of the train cars it cruised easily in pace with the train roughly a hundred feet up. Allowing the ship’s AI to fly the vessel in his absence, the Dark Lord stepped off of the landing ramp of his ship and plummeted like a stone in which he landed, lowering himself to one knee to cushion the impact. He left a dent in the rooftop of the train car.
Closing his eye he searched outwards with the Force and sought his prey. Surely as he was here in the flesh so too was the lost pupil. Opening his eye once more the Lord of All arose from his kneeling position and began walking to the edge of the rear train car - his next step was to gain entry unto the train proper and therein would begin his search for his wayward servant.
Though as he was to change course and search elsewhere he felt something. At first it was subtle but it grew in potency by such rapid margins that the Dark One failed to miss it. This feeling. It was Tormentous’ mainstay. His watchword. His nature.
It was anger.
Blossoming like a simple match light and flourishing into a bonfire the sense of anger flowed from the town like a rancid odor of which he couldn’t miss even if he’d tried. Surely some random getting angry wouldn’t have garnered any attention at all - this one however was linked strongly to the Force as if he was trained or rather he was once trained and so his fury was a very vivid flare as it also held true power behind it.
Like a beacon had been shot up Tormentous’ eye cut a thread and looked right to the train where he had sensed this incredible fueling emotion. The train was already in motion and speeding away from the town. It mattered little to him. The Infiltrator had a great amount of speed and soared over top the train in moments. Towards the end of the train cars it cruised easily in pace with the train roughly a hundred feet up. Allowing the ship’s AI to fly the vessel in his absence, the Dark Lord stepped off of the landing ramp of his ship and plummeted like a stone in which he landed, lowering himself to one knee to cushion the impact. He left a dent in the rooftop of the train car.
Closing his eye he searched outwards with the Force and sought his prey. Surely as he was here in the flesh so too was the lost pupil. Opening his eye once more the Lord of All arose from his kneeling position and began walking to the edge of the rear train car - his next step was to gain entry unto the train proper and therein would begin his search for his wayward servant.
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Ray Lambric
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
Dew's eyes widen knowing who had landed on the train, his former master called him the Grim Reaper both Sith and Jedi feared even sensing him. "Tsk...out of everyone" he thought of how he could have found him his anger rising but its cut short by a realization, his anger. He couldn't help but to chuckle, here he was in a cargo train hiding from a sith while getting angry and trying to find one to blame. Dew sighed realizing he had to face what he lured in.
He looked around at the cargo sighing as he grabbed the nearest cargo box ripping off a pipe looking at it thinking of his saber growling in anger as he kicked open the door lock and opened it clinging onto the side of the train. Climbing up slowly until he stands ontop of the the train facing the man approaching him. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind of how to escape but each ended with a final encounter. Dew glared at him examining him standing his ground his rage building higher and higher not because of the man approaching but the fact he may die before his goal is reached.
He looked around at the cargo sighing as he grabbed the nearest cargo box ripping off a pipe looking at it thinking of his saber growling in anger as he kicked open the door lock and opened it clinging onto the side of the train. Climbing up slowly until he stands ontop of the the train facing the man approaching him. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind of how to escape but each ended with a final encounter. Dew glared at him examining him standing his ground his rage building higher and higher not because of the man approaching but the fact he may die before his goal is reached.
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
He sensed the encroaching youth before he saw him. Turning around facing the front of the train he witnessed the Sith Warrior acrobatically climb his way to the top of the train car. So stood Darth Tormentous. He wore dark gray Sith Eradicator Armor, it was a plated suit of heavy coverings that was well suited for his massive 6’2” and 250 lbs build. Overtop his armor was a midnight black heavy cape clasped around the front by a silver chain. The cape was slightly frayed all over having been worn and tarnished by crusades on a hundred worlds and kissed by the suns of just as many or more. The hood of the cape came over his face, despite the swift wind of the train the hood remained fast on his head which successfully covered his face. His gauntlets were studded at the knuckles making any offensive strike he’d make a horrible one.
A massive sword was set to a clasp on his back. The sword was nigh-on legendary among the stars of the galaxy. It was forged from the sand of Moraband itself, forged in the fires of Exar Kun’s own kiln and by Tormentous’ own hands. He had fueled the blade with Sith Sorcery the likes of which had never been seen in an age. Behold, the Jidai Maras. A steel bound sword none could carry but him and it thirsted for the blood of his enemies with an insatiable lust that would never be overcome.
But it was in his face that delivered the bone chilling nightmare that reigned over an entire Empire. Whose very glance could make an entire star system fall to its knees and beg for their lives that he would have mercy - a mercy that did not exist.
His face was darkened by the hood. The lower portion from the nose down was covered by a metal mask of gunmetal gray. Red lights gleaned on either side of it which brought to his face an eerie hue. His left eye glowed with intense ethereal power. Acid yellow and with such intensity that those it looked upon could feel its presence. Then there was his right eye. Blind, milky white with a horrific scar given him by an Echani Lord and a massive Zabrak warrior. That blind white eye though, when it bored into you, you could feel your very soul being judged for every crime you’d ever committed and every lie you’d ever wrought.
Tormetous stepped forward slowly. His boots thumped on the car’s rooftop with utter methodical intent. He stopped several feet away from the armed Warrior and so in the moment where either one needed to make a move - so did the Dark One speak and when he did the gravel in his voice carried with it a literal chill to the air itself.
“Revenge.”
He could sense - no - feel this man’s desire for it. He needed it. He had to have it.
“You have been wronged. Yet I do not see that you are the weaker soul. It was your Lord.”
The devil himself extended a hand to Dew and it was covered in hoarfrost, the cold mist blasting off of him from the speed of the train. “Come with me. Back to the Caldera. Together we will find vengeance and those that wronged you will suffer a thousand deaths - your name will soak their every waking moment with their cries and they will rue the day that they ever suffered you to live.”
He paused a moment. He was the Emperor of the Sith Empire. If Dew took his offer, then there was nowhere that Dew’s former Master could hide. Though in that same moment, if he took not the hand of the Dark Lord then he would be found lacking resolve. He would never have access to his master and his revenge would be robbed from him forever.
The choice - was his and his alone.
A massive sword was set to a clasp on his back. The sword was nigh-on legendary among the stars of the galaxy. It was forged from the sand of Moraband itself, forged in the fires of Exar Kun’s own kiln and by Tormentous’ own hands. He had fueled the blade with Sith Sorcery the likes of which had never been seen in an age. Behold, the Jidai Maras. A steel bound sword none could carry but him and it thirsted for the blood of his enemies with an insatiable lust that would never be overcome.
But it was in his face that delivered the bone chilling nightmare that reigned over an entire Empire. Whose very glance could make an entire star system fall to its knees and beg for their lives that he would have mercy - a mercy that did not exist.
His face was darkened by the hood. The lower portion from the nose down was covered by a metal mask of gunmetal gray. Red lights gleaned on either side of it which brought to his face an eerie hue. His left eye glowed with intense ethereal power. Acid yellow and with such intensity that those it looked upon could feel its presence. Then there was his right eye. Blind, milky white with a horrific scar given him by an Echani Lord and a massive Zabrak warrior. That blind white eye though, when it bored into you, you could feel your very soul being judged for every crime you’d ever committed and every lie you’d ever wrought.
Tormetous stepped forward slowly. His boots thumped on the car’s rooftop with utter methodical intent. He stopped several feet away from the armed Warrior and so in the moment where either one needed to make a move - so did the Dark One speak and when he did the gravel in his voice carried with it a literal chill to the air itself.
“Revenge.”
He could sense - no - feel this man’s desire for it. He needed it. He had to have it.
“You have been wronged. Yet I do not see that you are the weaker soul. It was your Lord.”
The devil himself extended a hand to Dew and it was covered in hoarfrost, the cold mist blasting off of him from the speed of the train. “Come with me. Back to the Caldera. Together we will find vengeance and those that wronged you will suffer a thousand deaths - your name will soak their every waking moment with their cries and they will rue the day that they ever suffered you to live.”
He paused a moment. He was the Emperor of the Sith Empire. If Dew took his offer, then there was nowhere that Dew’s former Master could hide. Though in that same moment, if he took not the hand of the Dark Lord then he would be found lacking resolve. He would never have access to his master and his revenge would be robbed from him forever.
The choice - was his and his alone.
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Ray Lambric
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
There it was, death staring him eye to eye two complete opposites. As one stood battled ready Dew only had simple leather clothing and boots covering him with a simple woven cloak and nothing more than a metal pipe his eyes met with the man the sight horrifying but not to him, no there was only one thing that could scare him and death was not it. He danced with death before and had no problem accepting the fact he may permanently repeat the experience. He stared at the hand as it hung towards him listening to the words knowing all too well their meaning it was not as simple as accept help or not. The choice was join or die, a man with no mercy like this would never understand, who would not even his own name was his anymore the only one that came to mind was the idiotic new one he heard as he drifted.
"Put your hand away"
His eyes practically glowed with anger yellow and red dancing together completely covering whatever natural color was behind them as he glared at the man. "You are no idiot but neither am I" His bandaged arm raises the pole towards him. "Revenge, that is the only reason i crawled out from the grave and rage is the fuel that pushes me forward. Your offer would be taken by many in a heartbeat but my heart only wishes one thing, My Master's head. Joining you wouldn't only be dragging me back to possibly experience the same betrayal as the one ive been through but i would just be like him, a coward who needs handicaps, help and i will not accept that, my revenge is mine and mine alone." He tries to hide a faint pant feeling his wounds but his rage fills each muscle in his body keeping his ground. "I am Dewdrop, i have an idiotic new name but i refuse to return to being an idiot who follows a master that only wishes personal gain, im no Sith but dam well im no Jedi...I will use the force as a weapon for my revenge and ill accept my death to you if anything it would be an honor to die to one so powerful but not now...my rage will not allow it because of Revenge...that is my resolve!" His words came out on their own, unfiltered and fueled with rage...Rage, the only thing he had left it would not be tied down by someone who would use him he wanted all its raw power to be aimed towards one man and one man alone.
"Put your hand away"
His eyes practically glowed with anger yellow and red dancing together completely covering whatever natural color was behind them as he glared at the man. "You are no idiot but neither am I" His bandaged arm raises the pole towards him. "Revenge, that is the only reason i crawled out from the grave and rage is the fuel that pushes me forward. Your offer would be taken by many in a heartbeat but my heart only wishes one thing, My Master's head. Joining you wouldn't only be dragging me back to possibly experience the same betrayal as the one ive been through but i would just be like him, a coward who needs handicaps, help and i will not accept that, my revenge is mine and mine alone." He tries to hide a faint pant feeling his wounds but his rage fills each muscle in his body keeping his ground. "I am Dewdrop, i have an idiotic new name but i refuse to return to being an idiot who follows a master that only wishes personal gain, im no Sith but dam well im no Jedi...I will use the force as a weapon for my revenge and ill accept my death to you if anything it would be an honor to die to one so powerful but not now...my rage will not allow it because of Revenge...that is my resolve!" His words came out on their own, unfiltered and fueled with rage...Rage, the only thing he had left it would not be tied down by someone who would use him he wanted all its raw power to be aimed towards one man and one man alone.
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
His hand lowered into a balled fist, his patience took a drastic drop and his temper flared - yet the Dark One kept his wits about him and his rage was quenched by discipline. He endured the speech the young man delivered to him, listening intently to the logic spelled from his mind. Tormentous could appreciate that he did not wish to coddled or carried to the finish line. It was a respectable quality. But he also felt fear in this man and it disgusted him. He supposed right then and there that this whelp would not take his offer and instead would condemn himself to a life on the run. It mattered little in the grand scheme. But perhaps once final chance, one last plea would salvage this soul.
“Your Master’s head. You may have it if you are worthy enough to take it. You confused my offer as if I intended to give you everything on a platter. Narry and offering of service would be given. To those who serve me nothing is. Everything is earned through the blood and sweat of their merits and proven fortitude. From their very names to the clothes they wear onto those that may serve them in kind - everything is earned. I would not help you get the revenge you seek, what I would do is ensure that you are equipped with the tools - the ability through the Force - to take your revenge on your own and then when you are ready you shall either be found unworthy and incapable of the revenge you seek, or you will claim the life of the one that tried to slay you.” Tormentous turned his back and took a few steps away as he sorted the situation out in his mind. He did not wish for this ‘Dewdrop’ to go astray, he wished to preserve him and make him stronger for it was the strength of many that carried the will of an Empire.
“Honor has no place in the things we do.” He turned back around, “Betrayal is part of life. You fear betrayal, fear that it may happen again. But you do not see what is more important - why were you betrayed? It was because you were becoming strong. Strong enough to kill your Master and take his place. It was he that acted first and it was your fault for trusting him blindly that you did not see it coming. The way of the Sith is that the weak are only deserving of death. The Apprentice should always usurp the Master which represents rising strength in the Order or those that were and are now diluted do not continue to reign when they should not. Betrayal is a natural occurrence. You must not fear it. You must overcome it.”
“I can teach you how to overcome these things.” He frowned within his mask and eyed the boy tirelessly. He was putting a lot of effort into this one. Typically he did not.
There was more to this though. Should Dewdrop continue to refuse him - he seemed not to understand the gravity of the situation. Tormentous did not need his servants to be willing. He could just as easily capture this youth and enslave him to the Dark Side of the Force. Either way - the Sith would have their due.
Though there was one point that Tormetous did not appreciate in Dew’s retort. He claimed he was not Sith. Was he to disavow that which he could have been? Perhaps the truth was really that this boy was already destroyed inside and the resolve he so claimed was not as stalwart as advertised. Was he already worthless? Broken and spoiled? He did not like the idea of it - though if this was so - then there was only one note left in this dance to be sounded - the death knell.
“Your Master’s head. You may have it if you are worthy enough to take it. You confused my offer as if I intended to give you everything on a platter. Narry and offering of service would be given. To those who serve me nothing is. Everything is earned through the blood and sweat of their merits and proven fortitude. From their very names to the clothes they wear onto those that may serve them in kind - everything is earned. I would not help you get the revenge you seek, what I would do is ensure that you are equipped with the tools - the ability through the Force - to take your revenge on your own and then when you are ready you shall either be found unworthy and incapable of the revenge you seek, or you will claim the life of the one that tried to slay you.” Tormentous turned his back and took a few steps away as he sorted the situation out in his mind. He did not wish for this ‘Dewdrop’ to go astray, he wished to preserve him and make him stronger for it was the strength of many that carried the will of an Empire.
“Honor has no place in the things we do.” He turned back around, “Betrayal is part of life. You fear betrayal, fear that it may happen again. But you do not see what is more important - why were you betrayed? It was because you were becoming strong. Strong enough to kill your Master and take his place. It was he that acted first and it was your fault for trusting him blindly that you did not see it coming. The way of the Sith is that the weak are only deserving of death. The Apprentice should always usurp the Master which represents rising strength in the Order or those that were and are now diluted do not continue to reign when they should not. Betrayal is a natural occurrence. You must not fear it. You must overcome it.”
“I can teach you how to overcome these things.” He frowned within his mask and eyed the boy tirelessly. He was putting a lot of effort into this one. Typically he did not.
There was more to this though. Should Dewdrop continue to refuse him - he seemed not to understand the gravity of the situation. Tormentous did not need his servants to be willing. He could just as easily capture this youth and enslave him to the Dark Side of the Force. Either way - the Sith would have their due.
Though there was one point that Tormetous did not appreciate in Dew’s retort. He claimed he was not Sith. Was he to disavow that which he could have been? Perhaps the truth was really that this boy was already destroyed inside and the resolve he so claimed was not as stalwart as advertised. Was he already worthless? Broken and spoiled? He did not like the idea of it - though if this was so - then there was only one note left in this dance to be sounded - the death knell.
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Ray Lambric
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
He stared at him his grip tightening around the pole. "Do not take my sense of honor as a weakness, we are all born to die the thought of dying to one so powerful is an incredible one but the thought of nearly dying to a coward will not stand. I am and forever will be in the dark side of the force every moment i breathe it is with me and as much as i know i can grow that power under your teaching i cast away the title of sith! I fight for the dark side but for no group that conceal rats and cowards. You are right, i was foolish to believe your offer was a handout but you serve under the sith and that is my only problem with your offer, in joining you i join them which i will not. But i do have a question, why attempt so hard to sway me back? Ive heard tales of you hunting or capturing others in mere moments and yet you stand here having a full conversation with me, the gesture honors me." He takes a breathe to push away the pain and takes a stance. "I refuse to join the sith, your patience must be at its limit so do as you wish...but i wish to say one last thing, an offer of my own. Teach me, train me in the way of the darkside i care not if people know my name but i want power to kill anyone Jedi or Sith who get in my way, so i may kill the bastard who betrayed me. And in return ill get you something better than me, A jedi padawan. " He runs his hand through his hair revealing a braid. "My potential is great because i was destined to become a Jedi but i was taken before my training started but imagine if you had a trained padawan at your side, you would make the ultimate Sith warrior for the Empire and all i want is power and no connection to the Sith, if the offer tempts you hold out your hand again and if not...lets see how long i last." He kept his eyes locked on him showing no sign of backing down to show his words are true.
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Dewdrop, The start of an ending
Another refusal and it was time to move - though the youth spoke further and Tormentous gave pause to his pent up aggression. A question appeared and while Tormentous did not owe this boy anything, he would answer. Perhaps he was feeling lenient today? Unlikely. There was something about this young man that Tormentous liked - he never backed down. Not even once. Even though he’d known who Tormentous was, he took not one step back. There was a fire in him and if trained properly then he could truly be a deadly force to be reckoned with. No - he needn’t be Sith, the Sith Order did not require one to be named by such a title, one could live outside the constraints of the Order and still dwell within its halls and train in its ways.
Yes. That would do.
“It is true that the only way some would escape my hand is either through slavery or death.” He paused, milling the question over a moment, “Hesitation is not something the Sith may bear in their lives. But it was not hesitation or lack of resolve as to why I speak with you now - it is because the truth is, just because we are Sith does not mean we cannot be civilized. Not every moment of our lives revolve around tragedy and murder. To speak, to question, to have patience - these things are necessary in our lives should we learn to see another day and overcome our enemies. But why have I spared you?” He balled both hands into fists and planted them on his hips as he addressed the youth.
“I did not strike you down because I can see deeper into you than you yourself may know. I can feel,” his right hand came up in a clenched fist and he flexed his arm for emphasis and dramatic effect, “your potential. It is raw and untapped though it is bright. To destroy you here and now would be a waste. Surely enough I would not allow you to serve another, but should I point you in the right direction - teach you what is true power and should you yet survive these teachings,” he stood a little straighter and leaned back, “oh what power you could embody!”
“Know this, young one, my will is absolute and my forgiveness is a narrow thing. But do well in these times and the trials ahead and you will have that which you seek.”
Again he extended his hand to shake Dewdrop’s in a warrior’s grip. “I accept. You needn’t call yourself Sith. I will train you in exchange for this Jedi Padawan you speak of - as well during your training should I require a service of you then I expect you to see it done. A small price to pay - for unlimited power.”
Yes. That would do.
“It is true that the only way some would escape my hand is either through slavery or death.” He paused, milling the question over a moment, “Hesitation is not something the Sith may bear in their lives. But it was not hesitation or lack of resolve as to why I speak with you now - it is because the truth is, just because we are Sith does not mean we cannot be civilized. Not every moment of our lives revolve around tragedy and murder. To speak, to question, to have patience - these things are necessary in our lives should we learn to see another day and overcome our enemies. But why have I spared you?” He balled both hands into fists and planted them on his hips as he addressed the youth.
“I did not strike you down because I can see deeper into you than you yourself may know. I can feel,” his right hand came up in a clenched fist and he flexed his arm for emphasis and dramatic effect, “your potential. It is raw and untapped though it is bright. To destroy you here and now would be a waste. Surely enough I would not allow you to serve another, but should I point you in the right direction - teach you what is true power and should you yet survive these teachings,” he stood a little straighter and leaned back, “oh what power you could embody!”
“Know this, young one, my will is absolute and my forgiveness is a narrow thing. But do well in these times and the trials ahead and you will have that which you seek.”
Again he extended his hand to shake Dewdrop’s in a warrior’s grip. “I accept. You needn’t call yourself Sith. I will train you in exchange for this Jedi Padawan you speak of - as well during your training should I require a service of you then I expect you to see it done. A small price to pay - for unlimited power.”