Dorne Calato
Character
[member="Matsu Ike"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Consul Cyrano Dorne stood quietly beside his brown kybuk mount, accompanied by his son Calato. The Consul was a man in his 50's, and a hard life of fighting had added many wrinkles, many lines, and many a graying hairs in his head of black, though by the grace of the Force he was as able-bodied as any of his man at arms. Cyrano wore a nobleman's winter tunic and thick boots, over which he wore the pelt of one of this world's saber toothed cat. The grey-white fur made him blend well into the surrounding snow. though today only he and his son were there, to meet their guest in secret.
His son Calato also stood with his own beast, and minded a third meant for their guest. Calato was young though already began to sport a dark, raven beard and long, disheveled hair, carrying his father's features. He dressed as well as his father, and also carried a pelt- though smaller than his father's. The young man tightened his hood over his head, trying to keep warm.
"...Who are we meeting, father?" Calato deigned to ask after having stood in the snow for an hour now, with nary but a family of wild Kybuk in the distance.
"An old friend, son." Cyrano answered simply. His son, quick on the uptake, followed with a question to confirm.
"Old friend? So... they know?"
"Yes.... yes they do. They are the Jedi order I spoke of."
Cyrano thought quietly to himself, reflecting back on his days as a Jedi Knight... and the fateful day he declined promotion to Master, when his world needed him most due to his brother's death. This was a good twenty years ago, and he wondered if his old Jedi comrades ever forgave him, or at least understood it was what he thought was right at the time. He looked up to the skies to see if his friend's vessel was coming or not. He tried to humor himself, perhaps this world is so backwards they deigned to miss it on their travels.
1: CYRANO
The Landing pad for this feudal outer rim world was a simple marked ferrocrete platform, maintained with paint and hand brush to accept a rare few star ships as visitors. It rested in a wide, grassy valley under grey skies, marked by a ring of a dozen stones painted black, braziers of lit flames atop them which made them visible from the sky... though appearing very primitive.Consul Cyrano Dorne stood quietly beside his brown kybuk mount, accompanied by his son Calato. The Consul was a man in his 50's, and a hard life of fighting had added many wrinkles, many lines, and many a graying hairs in his head of black, though by the grace of the Force he was as able-bodied as any of his man at arms. Cyrano wore a nobleman's winter tunic and thick boots, over which he wore the pelt of one of this world's saber toothed cat. The grey-white fur made him blend well into the surrounding snow. though today only he and his son were there, to meet their guest in secret.
His son Calato also stood with his own beast, and minded a third meant for their guest. Calato was young though already began to sport a dark, raven beard and long, disheveled hair, carrying his father's features. He dressed as well as his father, and also carried a pelt- though smaller than his father's. The young man tightened his hood over his head, trying to keep warm.
"...Who are we meeting, father?" Calato deigned to ask after having stood in the snow for an hour now, with nary but a family of wild Kybuk in the distance.
"An old friend, son." Cyrano answered simply. His son, quick on the uptake, followed with a question to confirm.
"Old friend? So... they know?"
"Yes.... yes they do. They are the Jedi order I spoke of."
Cyrano thought quietly to himself, reflecting back on his days as a Jedi Knight... and the fateful day he declined promotion to Master, when his world needed him most due to his brother's death. This was a good twenty years ago, and he wondered if his old Jedi comrades ever forgave him, or at least understood it was what he thought was right at the time. He looked up to the skies to see if his friend's vessel was coming or not. He tried to humor himself, perhaps this world is so backwards they deigned to miss it on their travels.