Arrogance.
Known as a trait that many in the Galaxy found as deplorable, when exhibited by the young Heir it served a finite purpose. For him, arrogance was more than simply assuming that he was above other beings for arbitrary reasons. No, this was his trigger. It was an instant source of negativity from which he could draw strength to form Sorcery through the Dark Side. As such, the instant the blaster bolts began to reflect off of his crimson blade, his psyche began to fill with thoughts dripping with arrogance. 'They dare,' he growled mentally, effortlessly knocking away bolt after bolt with relative ease, 'attack me!? I am Jacques Cavill, son of the Crusher of Coruscant and the Sith Empress?! They should tremble before me, and yet they DARE fire their weapons. For this, they shall die!'
The negativity flowed forth like a mighty tide, so much so that any being sensitive to the Force would have felt...an aura of black erupt about Jacques' form. This aura, of course, was unseen by the naked eye and could only be felt; for he radiated pure hatred, anger, and other emotions that characterized the corruptive side of the Force. When he finally emptied his mind of "self" and allowed his psyche to be filled to the brim with this negativity, he reached out and spoke a single word in a language long lost to the known Galaxy. "Dwomutsiqsa." he said, and in response to incantation, energies surged forth from his right hand which had extended in his concentration. Their manifestation was swift, as quick as the blinking of an eye, and their appearance was that of a billowing cloud of purple haze.
The cloud leapt forth from his hand and burrowed itself into the snow, before expanding and shooting upwards. The display was unlike anything that the thugs had ever seen, for as the spell worked, their onslaught came to a close. The cloud expanded quickly, only taking seconds to finalize its form; coming to a halt as a "corridor" of darkness. From these black depths did a single, smoky form emerge, and once into the light of day, the corridor extinguished into nothing. The being was tall, looming at over seven feet in height, and was composed entirely of crimson smoke. Its appearance was, initially, that of a horned, muscular humanoid...but it quickly shifted depending upon the eyes who looked upon it. Jacques, being the summoner of the Smoke Demon, saw only its true form however.
The Smoke Demon, thriving upon the emotions so prevalent within the hearts of men, appeared as the worst fear of those surrounding it. To one, he appeared as a deceased enemy returned for vengeance. To another, he appeared as a multitude of serpents intermingled with arachnids and other nasty creatures. Each form was grotesque in one way or another, and each form caused fear to grip the men who had dared fire upon the young Heir. Of course, in order to maintain this summoning, and control over the Demon, Jacques did not afford himself any satisfaction; for concentration was of the utmost importance. "Kill them all." he ordered in perfect Sith, to which the Smoke Demon replied with a grunt. It surged forth and assaulted the "noble" who was purchasing the creatures in the first place, knocking him to the ground with minimal effort before capitalizing on his first victim.
It cloaked its form about the fallen man, forming a hazy shell about his body...and then quite literally vaporized the man.
Panic rippled through the thugs. Some fired blasters as the Demon, others, namely the thug leading the exchange, grabbed some of the cages and ran off. In the end, the only ones left after the initial vaporization were those stupid enough to fire upon the Smoke Demon, and a single cage containing a pair of pups. "Finish them." came the cold, unrelenting order of Jacques...and once reformed into its main appearance, the Smoke Demon could not help but oblige the will of its Master. It surged forth and began its assault upon the remaining enemies, taking great pleasure in beating them around with its claws first. As this occurred, the young Heir, drunk with power, turned his attention to the woman who was supposed to be hiding. Her disobedience fueled a pang of annoyance, which only served to augment the strength of the Spell.
"Did I not tell you to stay hidden?"
@[member="Anwen Talith"].