Lords of the Sith: Primacy

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya looked at Spencer blankly, confusion crossing the twi'leks features as she tried to work out what was wrong with the girl. Then it dawned on her. Anaya had felt her won pain, her won emotions, Spencer had felt everyone else's pain. She needed something good, something that wasn't dark to focus on. Anaya drew on fear and pain, Spencer could not cope with it. Kneeling down in front of Spencer the twi'lek lifted her chin with a finger and smiled.

Opening her mind up to Spencer she focused on a memory, a feeling she could bring to mind with out little thought. It was the joy that came to her when she danced, the love for the music, the passion in the dance. the light stepps and the hards steps, the twist and the turns that left her dizzy with delight. Rising , she pulled Spencer up to her feet once more before scooping an arms under her knees and carrying her, across the throne room towards Ashin.

Humming lightly to herself, so lost in the happy little place in her mind that Anaya totally missed Ashin's announcement.

 

[Skorn Draclau]

@[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Anaya Fen"]

The display of power had been magnificent Skorn had not long been back in active service. He was one of the lost Draclau after all. And when he had returned he had returned to witness an age old ritual of Sith ascension. Of course it had been life threatening for the most part, and it had taken every ounce of his skill to avoid the tendrils of darkness and the falling stones that had erupted around him. What followed was the natural result of such displays. The entire chamber was in ruins. Guards were now flooding in escorting out the injured, moving about the debris.

The stench of burnt sulfur lingered in the air. Foul sorcery. Amidst the dust haze a figure moved out. Heading towards the throne and the Empress. The Draclau was clad in a crimson and black cloak. Underneath it he wore ornate and archaic robes of Sith design. Beneath the hood, his face was pale and his hair white as snow. Only his eyes had color, the color of fire. When he spoke, he did so in a deep voice with a thick outer rim accent.

"Shame the contest is over. I would have loved to try my worth. "

He nodded to the Twilek.

"Fighting champions doesnt have the same ring to it."

He walked towards the newly acknowledged Empress. A smile on his face. The Sith had a new monarch. It would be rude to not make introductions at such a critical juncture.

"Alas maybe I am a few years too early."

As soon as he was near enough for her to hear him, he bowed. Going down on one knee.

"I am Skorn Draclau, Son of Malice, Firstborn of the Draclau. Allow me the honor to be the first to congratulate you on your ascension, my Empress."

He clenched his hand to a fist and struck his chest.

"I am yours to command."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"And I am Desmius, granddaughter of Darth Shule and Sky Kerberos. My grandparents and your father were friends and enemies both; my grandfather trained your brother Lono. The Draclau name will always be honored in the Sith Empire, so long as its champions remain worthy of it. Welcome to the fold, brother."

 

[Skorn Draclau]

He rose and bowed once more.

"I am grateful that you would accept me. The Draclau clan will ever be loyal to the throne."

With that he moved away, others would come. So the Empress and the Draclau shared a bit of history. His thoughts lingered on that one name she had used. Sky Kerberos, that name carried weight in any day and age. The fabled Goddess of Chaos. There was a rumored death cult on Korriban that worshipped her. But he knew more of her from his father. She had been close to Malice Draclau. She had also killed him once.

A past however rarely impacted a future.

Rarely.