Months had passed since Vossari and Azar's fateful trip to Wrea. Vossari had hoped for simplicity - a nice dinner with his dad, a way to amend their doomed relationship. What he had found was...complicating. His father demonstrated that he was a blood sorcerer, and that his long-dead mother was one of the most powerful women on Wrea. Papa Khaldun warned his son of the enemies the Khaldun family has faced over the years - warned that they still lived and would kill them both.
The question of whether Wrean assassins could ever hope of damaging a Sith Lord aside, Vossari rejected it. He left his dad, with Azar, at the bottom of the sea. The passing months between were unkind. The Sith had failed an invasion on Ithor, resulting in the passing of Karys. Azar had changed since that day, naturally. They had both become more reclusive in the past months, Vossari wrapped in his studies of Wrea as he tried to finally close the chapters of his many schemes across Dromuund Kaas, Manaan, Saleucami, Aargau, and any other planet. The stress was getting to him - he was near plucking out his hair.
In times of great internal conflict, he always turned to Azar. He hoped that today would be no different.
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A droid-piloted ferry dropped off Vossari to King Arcanos's palace, burning hot into the bright sun of a Korribani day. Voss wore a simple outfit, consisting of a locally-made cotton pants with Wrean accoutrements. Days spent wandering Murzana's crowded streets gave him small insights into the multifaceted culture of the true blooded Sith, the progenitors of their Order. He knew that their proud people survived years of hardship through strength and tradition. And now, with King Arcanos's rule, merchants on the streets clamored to speak of a new Golden Age for the Korribani peoples.
Voss loved to linger by the pools of his palace's oasis, but today called for something different. He sought out Azar's marvelous study, with a thick, leather-bound tome in hand. He hoped to find his love there, as he imagined: Hard at work, experimenting, stressing.
@Sreeya
The question of whether Wrean assassins could ever hope of damaging a Sith Lord aside, Vossari rejected it. He left his dad, with Azar, at the bottom of the sea. The passing months between were unkind. The Sith had failed an invasion on Ithor, resulting in the passing of Karys. Azar had changed since that day, naturally. They had both become more reclusive in the past months, Vossari wrapped in his studies of Wrea as he tried to finally close the chapters of his many schemes across Dromuund Kaas, Manaan, Saleucami, Aargau, and any other planet. The stress was getting to him - he was near plucking out his hair.
In times of great internal conflict, he always turned to Azar. He hoped that today would be no different.
____________________________________________
A droid-piloted ferry dropped off Vossari to King Arcanos's palace, burning hot into the bright sun of a Korribani day. Voss wore a simple outfit, consisting of a locally-made cotton pants with Wrean accoutrements. Days spent wandering Murzana's crowded streets gave him small insights into the multifaceted culture of the true blooded Sith, the progenitors of their Order. He knew that their proud people survived years of hardship through strength and tradition. And now, with King Arcanos's rule, merchants on the streets clamored to speak of a new Golden Age for the Korribani peoples.
Voss loved to linger by the pools of his palace's oasis, but today called for something different. He sought out Azar's marvelous study, with a thick, leather-bound tome in hand. He hoped to find his love there, as he imagined: Hard at work, experimenting, stressing.
@Sreeya