Two months ago Graxin would have never dared to contact the Grandmaster. Not after his terrible blunder on Ossus, and certainly not after failing to retrieve the holocron he had lost with that blunder. For a time, he had withdrawn. Rarely would he ever be seen on Ossus, and his positivity had been replaced with a defeatist attitude. The knight had allowed himself to fall into a slump, and for a time, it seemed he would never crawl out of it.
That had changed too.
There was news to be shared. Darth Vulcanus was dead, and would never again return to the mortal plain. Graxin had taken extra precautions to insure that the Dark Lord would never return. The ritual had been costly, and the corruptive taint of its use still lingered on the former Emperor's Hand. To his own credit, he managed to resist it and return to the correct path; albeit with a considerable struggle in the process.
Few knew that Krag was no more, but news was spreading. The Graug were leaderless now, and Graxin held the claim to Lordship by right. He had nested the Warchief in single combat, and most of the Graug clans would respect that.
These two things were only part of why the Knight had requested an audience. The Graug would become staunch allies of the Jedi Order, if the right cards were played, but Graxin had a more personal meeting for asking of Master Grayson in person.
He swallowed heavily as he strode through the halls of the temple. Few paid him much attention anymore, he was becoming a rather familiar face. It was a stark contrast to a few days earlier when he had arrived with an infant in his arms and an errant Graug warrior at his side.
He shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind. Focus.
He leveled his breathing as he darted around throngs of his brethren. Calm. He needed to be calm. Kiskla was not Krag, and he had conquered that obstacle. She was a young woman close to his age, perhaps younger than him, who had earned her position through dedication. Much in the way he had earned his own.
The thought set him at ease as he paused outside what he suspected to be her chambers. Admittedly, he was a bit confused as to where the Grandmaster spent most of her time.
He reached up and knocked on the doorway with a gloved hands. He stood up a bit straighter, and made a point to straighten out the leather coat he wore. It wouldn't do for him to look ragged in front of her, especially considering his usual discomfort with women around his own age.
He suspected that was part of why she intimidated him so much.
[member="Kiskla Grayson"]