On A Pale Horse
Those skilled in Alchemy and Sorcery were often the type well know. Darth Arcanix. Darth Carnifex. Darth Scolipsis. The list went on in Vazz's mind. Information was important. Knowing things was important. So was not being known. Vazz didn't want to be known if he could help it. His power, his strengths, they came from being unknown. That was the life of an Assassin, of an illusionist. It's also why he was here. Not every Alchemist was known throughout the Galaxy.
He needed one such Alchemist.
"The Marionette, correct?" It was a desolate landscape. The outer worlds of the former Maw superpower hadn't been rescued just yet. The Alliance could not reach everywhere. From what he heard, bodies had been going missing. It made sense, from the rumors he heard. A ghastly woman. A necromancer. And a seamstress. The illusion that doubled as Vazz's appearance dipped his head in greeting. As a Defel, he could only exist as a shadow. Absorbing light, never truly having a face to be seen.
"I a request for you. If you have time."
Spindle