Reyven Samoth
Grand Lord of the Tribe
Dromund Kaas...
It had been ages since he'd been on the surface of the planet. Nearly a millennium. For too long had he watched pretenders ruin what he had strived to create. The galaxy scoured by sickness. The galaxy returning to its base levels. It was recovering, but it needed guidance. He needed to make sure the Sith were on the proper path once more. As the Fury-class shuttle touched down on the lush, storm-cloaked world, he was already on the loading ramp and making his way down to the world.
Humid air hung about the master as he looked about. He had intentionally set down near Kaas City. He had to test these would-be Sith, their soldiers. See how well they performed. As he approached the gates to the city, he spotted a gathering of guards and made his way over to them, figure hidden beneath his crimson cloak. His mask hid any indication of emotion as he watched them for a while before they noticed his presence. One guard turned to regard him for a moment, unsure of what to make of him given that he did indeed look like a Sith, but not any Sith that they'd seen before. "Is there anything I can do for you? Are you lost?"
Reyven simply shrugged and without making any noticeable movements lashed out through the Force on their minds, digging into their deepest fears and unleashing them on the unsuspecting troopers. Their allies became a manifestation of that fear by his guidance and they turned blasters on one another, firing until only one remained, armor scored and bleeding, but definitely alive. Reyven released the hold on his mind and stepped to the survivor. "What's your name, soldier?" The man seemed visibly shaken, but managed out a name. "J-Jorus, Jorus Temril, sir."
Reyven nodded at him. "Tell your commander that the Sith's troops need more mental conditioning to resist such attacks. As you have first-hand experience now, I expect you to have some command over this development. Tell your commander that you deserve a promotion to accomodate that command, and that if he has any problems with my decision, he can come speak with Darth Sanctis." With a sharp turn he left the man and made his way into the city proper.
Time changed all things, it seemed.
It had been ages since he'd been on the surface of the planet. Nearly a millennium. For too long had he watched pretenders ruin what he had strived to create. The galaxy scoured by sickness. The galaxy returning to its base levels. It was recovering, but it needed guidance. He needed to make sure the Sith were on the proper path once more. As the Fury-class shuttle touched down on the lush, storm-cloaked world, he was already on the loading ramp and making his way down to the world.
Humid air hung about the master as he looked about. He had intentionally set down near Kaas City. He had to test these would-be Sith, their soldiers. See how well they performed. As he approached the gates to the city, he spotted a gathering of guards and made his way over to them, figure hidden beneath his crimson cloak. His mask hid any indication of emotion as he watched them for a while before they noticed his presence. One guard turned to regard him for a moment, unsure of what to make of him given that he did indeed look like a Sith, but not any Sith that they'd seen before. "Is there anything I can do for you? Are you lost?"
Reyven simply shrugged and without making any noticeable movements lashed out through the Force on their minds, digging into their deepest fears and unleashing them on the unsuspecting troopers. Their allies became a manifestation of that fear by his guidance and they turned blasters on one another, firing until only one remained, armor scored and bleeding, but definitely alive. Reyven released the hold on his mind and stepped to the survivor. "What's your name, soldier?" The man seemed visibly shaken, but managed out a name. "J-Jorus, Jorus Temril, sir."
Reyven nodded at him. "Tell your commander that the Sith's troops need more mental conditioning to resist such attacks. As you have first-hand experience now, I expect you to have some command over this development. Tell your commander that you deserve a promotion to accomodate that command, and that if he has any problems with my decision, he can come speak with Darth Sanctis." With a sharp turn he left the man and made his way into the city proper.
Time changed all things, it seemed.