Verran steps out of the shuttle, his breath already turning to steam in front of him as he gazes out at the icy landscape of Ziost. His lightsaber, and his mask clipped to his belt, the Sith Acolytes walks off the landing platform, the engines of the shuttle roaring back to life, the craft ascending to return to the ship it came from. Walking forward, Verran gazes at the Sith Academy before him, a sense of accomplishment, duty, and pride welling up inside of him. He had made it, his dreams becoming a reality. From his years of pre-training spent on Brentaal IV, he had obtained a decent understanding of his destiny, to serve in the Sith Order, and bring glory to the Imperium. Closer and closer he came, the Academy now towering over him, calling him, challenging him. Verran offered a challenging smile to the Academy, ready to face whatever obstacle was put in his place.
