RPG [SPAR] Rite of Passage [M-V]

[Gavin]

[FONT=Verdana][COLOR=WHITE][SIZE=1][LEFT]The blood coloured sunset on hallowed Korriban seemed appropriate for the occasion, Tain meditations in the Force were broken by his hours of lightsaber katas, refining the already powerful Ataru technique against his student's Makashi, a style he had taken with the intention of one day using it against Tain. Korriban was a nexus for the Dark Side, on this world more so than any other it was capable of almost touching it as though it were a tactile thing. He breathing slowed, drawing deep into the Force, bringing centuries of arcane knowledge to the surface, ready to be used at a moments notice. This was Tain?s greatest aptitude, the skill that had proven his own master?s undoing, whatever Tain learned, whatever secret no matter how obscure could never be forgotten. This was his heritage of the Nelvaan shaman caste, the one part of his people he held any respect for. Stilling his breathing, the Sith Master ventured deep into the heart of the Force, reflecting on the memories of countless beings across the galaxy, he focussed on a particular mind, a young Padawan in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Tain did this often, watched Jedi for hours, discerning new weaknesses that might be exploited. He knew very well the Jedi Council believed the Sith extinct, a folly of follies, though Tain eventually hoped to corrupt the galaxy to it?s true nature, he took a particular interest in the Jedi, part of him wanted to storm the Temple outright, letting his blade taste the vengeance of generations of built-up Sith hatred, the legacy left from one master to the next, the destruction of the Jedi Order. Other parts wanted him to slowly corrupt them from within, gently swaying those young and powerful in the ways of the Sith, until eventually the Jedi would fail to even recognise themselves. But he was not strong enough, and the Rule of Two meant the Sith could never again face the Jedi in direct martial combat. ?[b]You have finally arrived.[/b]? There was no distain in his voice, simply stated fact. The corpse-like Modus was all but dead on the outside, the only illusion of life was held in his eyes, they flickered like a dying candle. Modus crimson robes further augmented his emaciated form, but through the Force, his apprentice was difference, like a dark wind that stripped the life from all it touched, something demonic, truly he was as much as pinnacle of the Dark Side as his master. Modus? lightsaber hung loosely from his robes, Tain was somewhat glad his apprentice had not attacked outright, it did not seem necessary, nor in keeping with his apprentice?s measured nature. Perhaps they would talk, it had been weeks since they had last spoken, and after this confrontation they would never speak again. ?[b]Do you have any words to mark the occasion Modus ?[/b]? ---------- Well then, let?s begin.[/LEFT][/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT]