Location: Serreno
Objective: Wedding Party
Lord Daimen had been invited to his sister Anya’s Wedding. The Dark Elf arrived under cover of night. There in lush forest he stood in his black robes and armor looking up at a crescent moon. He heard the sound of a twig snap and with tuay he drew his Saberstaff and ignited the bright ruby blade, only to see the face of a Lady Elf in a White Night Dress.
“I knew you would come, Brother.”
The Darth deactivated his blade and looked at The Bride To Be.
“It seems despite my powers I cannot hide from you.”
Anya smirked,
“You always were clumsy, when we played hide or shriek, I always found you.”
The Towering Elf drew closer to her.
“That was a long time ago..”
Anya placed her hand on his cheek.
“Dear brother, everything is a long time ago.”
With that he began to chuckle and take her hand, kissing it and lifting her into air beneath the stars.
“My dear sister! At last you are getting hitched! So many poor Elf lads shall mourn they missed their chance!”
Anya smiled, his sanguine nature had come to the surface.
“Will you give me away?”
Daimen removed one hand and stroked his clean shaven chin.
“Are you a gift?”
He was being facetious.
“I am serious! Father is gone and you are the eldest, its your responsibility. Do this for your favorite sister!” She said in a very charmful tone.
“Your my only sister.”
He sat down on a felled tree trunk.
“If it will make you happy..”
Anya threw her hands around his neck and kissed his cheek.
“That’s enough! I already said yes.”
He then fell over on the ground as she tickled him in his arm grooves.
“Stop it! I am a dignified Sith.. agh!”
He then sat up on bended knees and saw Anya was solemn.
“Now what is this my precious sis? Why do you look as on the moon of Father’s passing?”
She shed some tears that he caught with his gloved hand.
“What draws the sacred drops for your eyes?!”
Anya looked at her Brother,
“I had a dream.. a terrible dream, it was about you.”
Daimen drew close to his Sister and placed his arm around her.
“Dreams are just dreams..”
Anya looked at him,
“No.. I saw you in armor and laying in a pool of your own blood.. sinking.. sinking until..”she swallowed deeply before saying, “A great shadow rose up in your place, but it was not you! It was not you!”
She leaned into his shoulder and wept.
“There.. there Sister, the stress of tomorrow is probably just manifesting in these dreams. I’m right here, I am still the same.”
She looked up at him,
“Promise me you will not leave before the New Moon..”
His red eyes fixed on her,
“I promise.”
She then leaned into him and closes her eyes. He placed his chin on her head.
“Everything is going to be alright Anya.”
The Next morning the forest was astir with preparations, as a long and table in the shape of a S was placed around the trees where the wedding party would dine. All manner of people had been invited across the galaxy. Daimen knew that there would be old friends, new ones, and of course some enemies to make things interesting.
He was dressing in his war armor, the finest plate forged by Dark Elves, with glowing bled crystals marking the chest plate, pauldrons, and belt. His Staffsaber he touched with his ebony colored gloves. Two Elves approached,
“Well look at this, the Mighty One looks so strong in his armor, doesn’t he Gruwel?”
“Yes indeed Tuthen, a formidable sight to be sure.”
Daimen smirked as he turned,
“You two should be chained in the Well of Forgetting! You rascals!”
The Three converged, hugging and placing their foreheads on each others foreheads.
“We thought you’d still be with you cultist friends, what did you call them Gruwel?”
“The Sips, on account that they seemed to drink a lot more than conquer anything.”
Daimen shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“You two are fortunate I am the only Sith here.. because if they heard you talk thus they’d..”
“Gruwel he’s gonna do it! Come on man! Show us that wizardy!”
Daimen called forth red bolts of lightning that arched around his hands and plate armored arms.
“Cool!” Said Tuthen.
“Look at that!” said Gruwel.
Daimen then made it stop and looked at his old friends.
“I wish you were here when Cavar stumbled into some pirates. They’d have been no match for our Anandar!” said Tuthen.
At that name Daimen hissed, his eyes of blood rippled, and two fangs emerged. This frightened them both as they stepped back.
Daimen regained control of himself and said,
“I suggest you not use my Borne Name.”
Tuthen nodded,
“Sure.. whatever you say.”
Gruwel shook his head up and down, “Absolutely.”
Feeling his head begin to ache, The Darth bud his two friends adieu for now. He went to a fountain and looked into the water, his eyes growing larger into saucers of blood.
“Anandar! Anandar!” a voice shouted in muffled tones.,
He bore his teeth in a snarl, and made a fist, when the flutes began to play indicating the ceremony was soon to begin. He stood there, looking into the water, hesring his words,
“I am still the same..”
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