Daxton Bane
Character
A chill wind blew through the open window, causing the pages of the ancient tome before the Templar to dance before he placed an armored palm on top of them.
Although he could have had the room lit with ilumen rods, Daxton preferred the flickering dance of candlelights from over a dozen lit tapers scattered around the room to dispel the cold and the dark.
The sweet smell of honey and beeswax was a comfort which reminded him of his youth, of far less pleasant times.
Turning the page over, he suddenly paused and looked skyward as if his senses told him something which was not obvious to the uninformed observer. A secret smile crossed his dry lips, as his tongue snaked out to lick the tip of his finger.
A familiar presence was nearby, one he fully expected to show themselves here in the sanctity of his lair. Was it a challenger? It has been months since he has had a decent fight, much less one which didn't involve a Jedi crying for their mother as they tried to hold in their spilled guts.
Sighing softly to himself, the Jedi were getting boring. Not one decent challenge to date, and the Grandmaster Watts, the golden paragon of virtue himself, still hid like an old hag from him. Well not that he could blame him for wanting to cling to life, but it was a thorn in his throat none the less.
Closing his eyes, Daxton reached out to the Force and began to meditate....
@[member="Saeldar"]
Although he could have had the room lit with ilumen rods, Daxton preferred the flickering dance of candlelights from over a dozen lit tapers scattered around the room to dispel the cold and the dark.
The sweet smell of honey and beeswax was a comfort which reminded him of his youth, of far less pleasant times.
Turning the page over, he suddenly paused and looked skyward as if his senses told him something which was not obvious to the uninformed observer. A secret smile crossed his dry lips, as his tongue snaked out to lick the tip of his finger.
A familiar presence was nearby, one he fully expected to show themselves here in the sanctity of his lair. Was it a challenger? It has been months since he has had a decent fight, much less one which didn't involve a Jedi crying for their mother as they tried to hold in their spilled guts.
Sighing softly to himself, the Jedi were getting boring. Not one decent challenge to date, and the Grandmaster Watts, the golden paragon of virtue himself, still hid like an old hag from him. Well not that he could blame him for wanting to cling to life, but it was a thorn in his throat none the less.
Closing his eyes, Daxton reached out to the Force and began to meditate....
@[member="Saeldar"]