Although Dromund Kaas had been one of the first worlds to be reclaimed by the Empire, much of its millenia of Sith history was still hidden to the current flag bearers of the Dark Side. Scattered across there were dozens of long lost temples, crypts, great houses and fortresses, all long since lost their battle against nature. Tree’s, bushes and undergrowth ripped through concrete, bent steel, shattered glass and slowly reclaimed the land.
In one such ruin now stood Wodan, clothed in simple browns, beiges and blacks befitting the trek through the wilderness to this broken old home. The scars on his face were bare for all to see as he walked slowly up the steps of the great hall’s entrance. Behind him a small collection of Sith and Imperials stood near the entrance, one stood out, bound at the wrists and gagged. A traitor to the cause, a sympathiser to the Jedi and their Democracies he had been caught trying to give away military positions to the ISC and was now sentenced to Death.
Wodan had taken him from the holding cells beneath the Citadel, the promise to conduct the deed himself all that was needed for the traitor to be released to him. With a wave of his hand he pushed aside some of the debris which littered the old dais ahead of him. “Bring him up.” He called behind himself, his right index finger fidgeting with the Shard around his neck.
@LadyRen