Cameron Centurion
The First Son
Approaching Exocron Space
"Hopefuls! Pilgrims! Our journey finally draws to an end as we slip nearer to the warm embrace of the Ten. The Moross way of life will draw all of us in, permit us the chance to transcend the struggles of the galaxy with the strength of the Gods of Moross. Prepare yourselves, my children, for the rest of your lives!". The elderly man that had been responsible for arranging this congregation of travelers smiled warmly at them all with outstretched arms. He was positive that he was leading all of the passengers of this worn freighter to a better life.
However, there was one member of the so-called congregation that went through the motions of awe, devotion, repentance, and whatever other bullshit the remaining nutbags onboard were holding to. The large man's plain black cloak fell loosely around his body. Dressed in little more than a casual pair of black pants, he brought with him only a very simple, tattered looking bag full of sparse belongings. In fact, it mostly contained weapons he had preferred to keep hidden from those onboard.
From beneath the veil of darkness provided by his cloak's hood, Ashmedai's silver-green eyes were cast down at the floor as he muttered several strings of religions incantations, begging for strength and forgiveness. However, Ashmedai knew in the very core of his being that none would receive anything from any gods. He'd simply been around too long for that. So the question was...why was he here? Why after so much time living the simple life at his home on Corstris had he elected to venture forth and continue his...investigations? Simple, the rapid spread of an entirely new religion that seemed to be gripping people by the hundreds at an astounding rate was impressive enough for him to notice. Never one to rely on media reports or word of mouth, he'd positioned himself to investigate on his own. He knew little about the makeup of this new religion, but he was quite interested to see who was using it as a basis for power and control these days. After all, there was scarcely a weapon in existence more powerful than religion. Those able to utilize it successfully...at least warranted a personal visit.
Once the vessel had arrived at its destination, Ashmedai came to his feet with the rest of the would-be followers. Though he towered over many of them, the Sith Lord stepped down the loading ramp silently. Casually, he followed the masses, allowing all of his senses to take in his surroundings.
"Hopefuls! Pilgrims! Our journey finally draws to an end as we slip nearer to the warm embrace of the Ten. The Moross way of life will draw all of us in, permit us the chance to transcend the struggles of the galaxy with the strength of the Gods of Moross. Prepare yourselves, my children, for the rest of your lives!". The elderly man that had been responsible for arranging this congregation of travelers smiled warmly at them all with outstretched arms. He was positive that he was leading all of the passengers of this worn freighter to a better life.
However, there was one member of the so-called congregation that went through the motions of awe, devotion, repentance, and whatever other bullshit the remaining nutbags onboard were holding to. The large man's plain black cloak fell loosely around his body. Dressed in little more than a casual pair of black pants, he brought with him only a very simple, tattered looking bag full of sparse belongings. In fact, it mostly contained weapons he had preferred to keep hidden from those onboard.
From beneath the veil of darkness provided by his cloak's hood, Ashmedai's silver-green eyes were cast down at the floor as he muttered several strings of religions incantations, begging for strength and forgiveness. However, Ashmedai knew in the very core of his being that none would receive anything from any gods. He'd simply been around too long for that. So the question was...why was he here? Why after so much time living the simple life at his home on Corstris had he elected to venture forth and continue his...investigations? Simple, the rapid spread of an entirely new religion that seemed to be gripping people by the hundreds at an astounding rate was impressive enough for him to notice. Never one to rely on media reports or word of mouth, he'd positioned himself to investigate on his own. He knew little about the makeup of this new religion, but he was quite interested to see who was using it as a basis for power and control these days. After all, there was scarcely a weapon in existence more powerful than religion. Those able to utilize it successfully...at least warranted a personal visit.
Once the vessel had arrived at its destination, Ashmedai came to his feet with the rest of the would-be followers. Though he towered over many of them, the Sith Lord stepped down the loading ramp silently. Casually, he followed the masses, allowing all of his senses to take in his surroundings.