Per my new OP template, thread is death enabled
Arla was quite dubious about this meeting. It was something that she needed to do for her own sake and for the sake of her people, but that didn't mean she had to be excited about it. As First Sister, it had fallen to her to make an agreement with the Empire, and upon reaching out, she had been informed that a "representative" would be sent to Dathomir.
Arla - with all the diplomatic skills of a rancor - was now preparing to receive the Lord Commander of the Imperial Knights. As yet, she had absolutely no idea the full implications of that as she had no way of knowing just who held that title in the new Empire.
For her own part, she was dressed in a finer outfit than she would normally wear, befitting of the position and the importance of the meeting.
She could hear the Imperial ship setting down outside the royal palace-temple, and she emerged from the doorway to meet whoever was going to descend the ramp. There was no great retinue to receive him, just the single Nightsister alone without pomp.
Be diplomatic. Be diplomatic. Think diplomatic thoughts. Don't think like a Sith. You're a Nightsister, she told herself. She moved out and rested her hands on the handles of the small knives on her belt only to realize that actually looked incredibly menacing and quickly removed them before settling for hooking her thumbs into her belts. It'd have to do.
Arla - with all the diplomatic skills of a rancor - was now preparing to receive the Lord Commander of the Imperial Knights. As yet, she had absolutely no idea the full implications of that as she had no way of knowing just who held that title in the new Empire.
For her own part, she was dressed in a finer outfit than she would normally wear, befitting of the position and the importance of the meeting.
She could hear the Imperial ship setting down outside the royal palace-temple, and she emerged from the doorway to meet whoever was going to descend the ramp. There was no great retinue to receive him, just the single Nightsister alone without pomp.
Be diplomatic. Be diplomatic. Think diplomatic thoughts. Don't think like a Sith. You're a Nightsister, she told herself. She moved out and rested her hands on the handles of the small knives on her belt only to realize that actually looked incredibly menacing and quickly removed them before settling for hooking her thumbs into her belts. It'd have to do.