Scarface
Ned Stark's Bastard, Knows Nothing
Quaint was the word.
Gryphus cautiously stepped into the derelict training chamber of the Sith Council's base of operations with vicious intent. An interesting juxtaposition of emotion it was indeed. His eyes scanned every corner of the room. Gry was alone, for now. After a lifetime of social regression, it was finally time for the young Sith aspirant to learn and climb the figurative ladder of power. He was contacted just a day prior to arrive in this training epicenter at this very specific time. The man who reached out to him went by Darth Kentarch, an apparent Sith Master and the catalyst that would awaken a fury inside of Gryphus like no other.
He stepped into the central atrium and was immediately prodded by a sensor node on the inside of his chest piece. Curse this armor, it was his greatest shortcoming. The barbed sensor took an analysis of his body function and sent it to a popup HUD within his photoreceptors. His vestigial eye blinked the notification away. Elevated blood pressure, 140/90, just like it always was, wakefulness was at 92%, and his lung pump was operating at peak efficiency. Wonderful, he mused sarcastically.
For now he was meant to wait. If this man was serious about his offer, then Gryphus could begin training within the hour. This concept was the only thing that excited the man who had more depression packed into his cranium than a Gundark had testosterone. He was ready.
Because he had to be.
@[member="Darth Kentarch"]
Gryphus cautiously stepped into the derelict training chamber of the Sith Council's base of operations with vicious intent. An interesting juxtaposition of emotion it was indeed. His eyes scanned every corner of the room. Gry was alone, for now. After a lifetime of social regression, it was finally time for the young Sith aspirant to learn and climb the figurative ladder of power. He was contacted just a day prior to arrive in this training epicenter at this very specific time. The man who reached out to him went by Darth Kentarch, an apparent Sith Master and the catalyst that would awaken a fury inside of Gryphus like no other.
He stepped into the central atrium and was immediately prodded by a sensor node on the inside of his chest piece. Curse this armor, it was his greatest shortcoming. The barbed sensor took an analysis of his body function and sent it to a popup HUD within his photoreceptors. His vestigial eye blinked the notification away. Elevated blood pressure, 140/90, just like it always was, wakefulness was at 92%, and his lung pump was operating at peak efficiency. Wonderful, he mused sarcastically.
For now he was meant to wait. If this man was serious about his offer, then Gryphus could begin training within the hour. This concept was the only thing that excited the man who had more depression packed into his cranium than a Gundark had testosterone. He was ready.
Because he had to be.
@[member="Darth Kentarch"]