Defenders of Peace

[Akhilleus]

Wandering the halls of the Jedi conclave on Yutan, Zator found himself grumbling inwardly about the cowardice and indecisiveness of the current jedi that filled the order. More so three specific ones. The complacent Grandmaster that wasn’t doing his job properly, the pixie that did nothing but sit there and act like his lackey and the sharp tongued witch that knew how to throw nothing but insults. It was sickening to the Tof’s very core. As one who had dealt with the Sith Zator found himself disappointed with the jedi. They were simply the mirror images of the Sith but these were just less successful. It was obvious to anyone the past leadership was bringing them down yet they clung to their enclave the way it was. Despicable. Maybe the Galactic Alliance would’ve been a better place for me. Zator thought to himself. They seemed to have the right idea, they were the ones taking the fight to the sith while this enclave sat and drank tea among themselves consolidating their power among their elite if thats what one could call them. Dismissing the thought Zator promised He’d give them a few more chances to prove themselves and their dedication before giving up. While the enclave was flawed they could be fixed, even if he had to get rid of the Grandmaster himself. Bring forth a vote of no confidence in the current Grandmaster and his ways. If only to bring about a much needed reform.

Looking out the window and into the darkness Zator noticed that it had begun to rain. The pitter-patter sounds of raindrops hitting the ground below was almost calming. Perhaps a walk is what the jedi needed to calm himself after the ignorance he had to put up with. Stepping up to one of the windows that overlooked the courtyard the vongshaped Tof leaped over the edge. Landing in a crouch his bones shielded from damage by a force barrier Zator caused the ground to shake and the tiles to shatter. The cool rain fell on his yellowish skin cooling his body and calming his mind. Now it was quiet, no disturbances as this late at night many would still be sleeping.


[member="Aynea Zyn'meshurok"]

 

[Nyxie]

The "foxtress"—a silly term that had always stuck—was sitting on a monument in the temple courtyard. She wore her usual robe, chemise and heels, wielding a small wax-paper parasol to keep dry in the rain shower. Her vulpine ears twitched gently as they felt the pulse of a large splatter in the distance. Sharp, golden eyes lazily turned to the side to see the man, [member="Zator Carr"], just kneeling in the rain. Suddenly her attraction to this particular place became more clear.

"You'll get soaking wet just standing there, you know..." her voice echoed out like a soft hymn.

The vixen slid gently from her perch on the monument and slowly walked towards the man, steps pattering softly in the rain with each footfall accompanied by the low, hollow ring of Mandalorian iron plating. The elegant patterns that adorned her left forearm glowed indigo, lighting the two's faces. She bared her hand before the man, conjuring a small, chromatic flame in her palm; a refuge from the rain; the mark of the goddess.