[member="Thel Rhysode"]
The Handmaiden stood within the dark of the ruins, her eyes slowly shifting over the broken stone masonry and torn statues that seemed to loom over the open plains.
Her eyes wandered slowly, her head hidden beneath a heavy hood. The horns that protruded from her skull seemed to slowly slip out from beneath the black cloth, her tattoos on her lower lip showing as her chin tilted up to allow her a better look at the statue above her. The massive man seemed to loom there, his face cut in half by ancient rot, his hands hanging onto a heavy sword. The Handmaiden tilted her head, looking at the sword. There were half a dozen markings upon it's blade, most of them faded and torn away by the rains that had happened on this world.
A particular marking stood out, a single symbol still etched as though it had been placed there yesterday.
Handmaiden gave no indication of it's significance. Her head did not sway, her eyes did not bulge, she simply looked at it with the same air of calm that she had put on everything else.
These ruins were old, ancient beyond all belief. This world had once been home of the Sith Empire, the ancient Empire they had called it. This world had resisted the Sith, resisted their invasion and then later their occupation. It was a significant event in history, a world resisting the Empire so fiercely as this one had. That was why this statue was important, why The Handmaiden had made her way here.
The past always held something of worth.
Even if it wasn't seen by everyone.
The Handmaiden stood within the dark of the ruins, her eyes slowly shifting over the broken stone masonry and torn statues that seemed to loom over the open plains.
Her eyes wandered slowly, her head hidden beneath a heavy hood. The horns that protruded from her skull seemed to slowly slip out from beneath the black cloth, her tattoos on her lower lip showing as her chin tilted up to allow her a better look at the statue above her. The massive man seemed to loom there, his face cut in half by ancient rot, his hands hanging onto a heavy sword. The Handmaiden tilted her head, looking at the sword. There were half a dozen markings upon it's blade, most of them faded and torn away by the rains that had happened on this world.
A particular marking stood out, a single symbol still etched as though it had been placed there yesterday.
Handmaiden gave no indication of it's significance. Her head did not sway, her eyes did not bulge, she simply looked at it with the same air of calm that she had put on everything else.
These ruins were old, ancient beyond all belief. This world had once been home of the Sith Empire, the ancient Empire they had called it. This world had resisted the Sith, resisted their invasion and then later their occupation. It was a significant event in history, a world resisting the Empire so fiercely as this one had. That was why this statue was important, why The Handmaiden had made her way here.
The past always held something of worth.
Even if it wasn't seen by everyone.