Ask Making Enemies

[Darth Arcanos]

Students were evacuated from the west wing of the Umbara academy after the explosion. It was where his lab was. Azar was among the last to arrive on the scene because he was fast asleep and dead to the world. The Pureblood stood behind rows of others gazing at what was left of his lab and personal quarters. This was a deliberate attempt on his life, and his precious items for alchemy were either stolen or destroyed. It was not surprising that Azar had enemies within or outside of the Order, but such a brazen hit was noteworthy.

His tousled hair cascaded down his back and he was adorned in silk robes and what appeared to be fuzzy slippers. Azar stifled a yawn as a few students expressed genuine concern. Dalon was practically in tears.

“Are you okay?!” He sniffled, “I thought..I thought..oh gods!” He burst into tears, grabbing a passing acolyte to blow his nose into the kid’s robe sleeve. Dalon shoved the acolyte away before looking at Azar again, “Darth Arcanos, the thought of anything happening to you-”

“Get a grip, Master Dalon,” Azar said coolly, “I want an assessment of the damage and inventory of what’s missing or destroyed matched up against my alchemy list.”

To say that Azar was in a foul mood was an understatement. He stepped closer to where the fires were, a casual wave of his hand dispersing the smoke at once. Azar needed a clue or trail of some sort to track down who did this. And make them suffer.

 

[Vander]

Vwooom... was the first sound that Vander heard, and it was one he knew. Oh kriff, he knew it, and threw himself to the ground of the hallway as far away from it as he could. It was probably the only thing that saved him.

...POOOOM.

The wall to Vander's right crumbled and threw chunks around the room, slamming against Vander's hand that covered his head and tearing open more than a few gashes before dust settled over him. The Force caught a few of the largest chunks as everything began to settle down.

WHAT THE KRIFF. Vander spend much time around other Sith because he generally didn't trust them, and this just proved it all right! Kriffing absurd! Well, he had come back to audition for one of the Blademaster spots that had opened up because as it turned out... he was running out of fuel money. Sigh.

His ears were still ringing as he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet, people already starting to gather around and no one making any attempt to help the people caught in the blast. Not that Vander was much surprised.

He stumbled his way out of the blast zone, looking back at the damage left behind.

Ah kriff, he thought to himself as a single, dark presence stood out over the rest. Darth Arcanos was here, and that was... way too much of a wildcard. If Arcanos was here then was this about him? And if it was then...

Something clicked in Vander's mind. That part of him that was an assassin by trade, and the part that knew this wasn't right.

Darth Arcanos, don't! he shouted, reaching out a hand to the Sith Lord. Well... great, now all eyes were on him and way too much ice cold darkness was now pointing like the Eye of Sauron straight toward him.

Spit it out, dipstick, he thought to himself.

Secondary charges. It's traditional training to set secondary charges either in the blast zone or just outside of it, he said, eyes flicking around and a creeping tingling crawling up the back of his neck. Yeah, just outside the blast zone like where we're standing, he thought to himself, almost instinctively starting to back up.

Catch anyone providing aid or investigating the scene, he said.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar looked over when a figure called out his name. By then, many had their eyes on the Sith that certainly didn’t have the authority to address him as casually as he had. The man was caught like a bantha in the headlights, hand reaching out from a distance away. Azar was beginning to lose his patience when the Sith spoke and cautioned against secondary charges. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. Azar definitely lost his patience.

The Sith Lord eyed him for a moment before stepping towards him and out of the immediate blast zone. He crossed his arms over his chest, “How fortuitous that you have knowledge of such things,” Azar said breezily, “And thank you kindly for volunteering to inspect the area for any secondary charges,” He said simply, his golden eyes gleaming as they met the Champion’s own. Azar was a head shorter than the man and yet still carried himself with the bearings of a titan. Even in his adorable fuzzy slippers.

 

[Vander]

And this was why Vander didn't spend time around other Sith. You try to help someone and you just end up getting yourself killed. Well... he wasn't dead yet.

Um, yes, redirect. Be useful and don't get dead, he thought to himself, bowing and falling back on those instincts of survival that had kept him alive this long.

My Lord, forgive my impertinence. The direness of the situation got the better of me, he said.

I'm sure you wouldn't fault me for trying to stop you before another danger is triggered, he said.

I would be happy to investigate the area, though... perhaps you'd allow me to do it through the lenses of a droid? he requested. His mind was already churning over the alternatives. If he ran... he didn't like his odds. If he went in there... he really didn't like his odds.

I think I may be able to prove useful, and if not... I have every confidence you'll be able to dispose of me, he said. He liked his odds of being useful for something like this over any of the other options.

For a moment, Vander stopped breathing without even thinking about it, his toes curled up slightly in his boots, and still not having actually stood up straight from his bowed position. Kriiiiiiif.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar stared at the Champion in his bowed state. The man barely got through the first two sentences before Azar decided he was talking too much. The Force would very gently coil around his neck to make him stop his word vomit so Azar didn’t have to keep listening, “I don’t care how you do it, just get it done,” He said nonchalantly as he finally released the hold. He walked past the man, his silk robes carelessly slapping him in the face as he did so.

The Sith Lord kept his distance from the explosion for now, waiting on the Champion’s assessment before he acted. In the meantime, one of the other academy faculty members approached him after offering a deep bow.

“Lord Arcanos,” The woman began, “There have been three casualties. Two acolytes and one Champion.”

“Any alchemy students?”

“No, my lord.”

“Ah, good,” Azar said, “What do we do, send a fruit basket to their families? A note to some orphanage?”

“Well, I suppose we can- “

“Right you are,” Azar mused as he rubbed his chin, “Who cares? Scrape their guts off the floor before tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin my imported shoes walking through acolyte salsa,” He said nonchalantly.

 

[Vander]

Well this was it, Vander was about to start pulling the Force to himself but... well he wasn't really being strangled. What kind of life had he stumbled into where he was having to differentiate between being choked and being strangled.

There was a moment of what felt like something between panic and a whisper in the Force that told him to bide his time before the grip was released.

I hate it here. I don't want this job anymore, he internally grumbled.

There was a moment - a very, very serious moment - where he thought about just leaving. Weighing his odds of just vanishing as some unknown Champion into the Sith Order. Okay, you start moving up, you draw attention. You get squished. Or out of spite he devotes some obscene amount of resources to finding you, you get squished.

Neither of those were options he loved.

Fortunately for Vander, his mind had always been one of his stronger assets and he quickly raced through options of this that didn't get him squished. Be useful and quick, don't get strangled, don't get blown up... Okay you know what kind of charge it was so... where would you put it, he asked. Assuming a half-competent assassin, there were only a couple of spots.

Need groin level for this kind of charge, first missed because it was higher. Won't risk the same with the second. Can't be displaced by first. South side of the hall. Kriff, he realized.

There weren't any droids nearby and droids... were slow. Vander reached out to the Force and placed a hand against the vent, reaching beyond to the Force and the power that connected him to the vent and the... ah kriff!

This was really not Vander's day.

Second charge in the vent! he shouted in alarm to everyone else. It was just before Vander said this that Azar would spot a symbol that he had never seen before... or had he? As if from a half remembered dream, perhaps he had seen it. A prophetic dream? Hard to place, but important.

Azar would feel that familiar tingle down his spine that warned him of danger. The kind of danger to herald an explosion that was only moments away, soon to rip a blue arc of sonic energy through a second chunk of the academy.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar spotted the symbol and all thoughts of acolyte salsa fled his mind. His eyes narrowed as he focused, trying to recall where he had seen it before. He knew he never saw it anywhere physical, but why did it look so familiar? That sense of dread caused goosebumps along his skin and he immediately went closer towards the vent.

As the explosion began, Azar powerfully channeled the Force, creating a barrier to contain the blast. The display was magnificent, the fire and explosion all swirling in its bright glory but all contained within an orb. The Sith Lord may have been in pajamas and slippers, but he commanded the Force as a mere extension of himself, bringing it to heel and easily weaving it.

After the explosion was subdued and negated, Azar released the barrier, allowing the smoke to plume and escape. He wandered around till he spotted the Champion from earlier.

“Oh good, you haven’t turned to ash,” He said, a tone of surprise in his voice, “Good work, champion. You will assist me in getting to the bottom of this,” Azar said breezily, “I can’t believe someone would seek to harm me,” He said with a slight pout.

Dalon overheard this and grumpily glared at Vander. He nudged the Champion, “If anything happens to him, I’ll reach down your throat and tear your intestines out through your mouth, you little shit,” He growled while cracking his knuckles.

Azar was oblivious to that exchange, standing before the symbol. His fingers brushed over it as he closed his eyes. He drifted into the realm of the Force, trying to recall where he had seen the symbol before and under what context.

 

[Vander]

Vander had seen Sith Masters use the Force before. He'd even managed to kill one once, but he had never seen a Sith Lord weave the power in the way that Darth Arcanos did in that moment.

There was knowing about power like that, and there was seeing it and feeling it. He had never really understood the gap that existed between a Sith Lord and a Sith Master until that moment.

He watched the way the sonic charge turned in on itself, folding back a dozen times until it was drained to nothingness and Vander's mouth just... hung open a tiny bit.

He was shaken out of his surprise as Arcanos addressed him directly, giving something of a deer in headlights look.

Uh, yes, my lord, he said, and very abruptly he felt this lingering, stifling sense that he had managed to absolutely step in it. There was no way this was going to turn out well for him. If he was unsuccessful, dead. If he was successful... honestly, still maybe dead.

He pushed himself to his feet, silently brooding over his stupidity.

Smooth move, buttercup, he said to himself, almost missing Dalon and his... you know there was something about the man that even though he really should have been deeply threatened by him, it just wasn't working.

Noted, the assassin said, deciding that not pissing off Arcanos by screwing up was more important than dealing with... this guy.

And so, he started going over what he needed to do and know and where it could lead him.

Alright, so we've got two seismic charges, he muttered quietly to himself, recognizing not only the characteristic sound they made on detonation, but also the distinctive blue arcs of energy.

He glanced to the symbol on the wall, and quickly shook his head, not recognizing it and moving on to somewhere he could be more useful.

Placements were good and professional. This wasn't a noob, he muttered. He would continue his investigation until Arcanos came to him, deciding it was better to report his findings when they were wanted rather than... imposing.

A picture was beginning to form in Vander's mind and a lead was beginning to solidify out of the "fog" of evidence. He poked around the area some more, trying to pinpoint the exact place that the first bomb was placed.

As Azar looked at the symbol, he would begin to remember bits of a dream he had once had. That symbol on the expanse of an open, flat plain of ash that was clearly no actual place at all. Seemingly streaking out from it was a spider web of cracks and streaks as if cracks in glass.

At the end of one was a man holding a red lightsaber, dozens of others bowed at his feet and swearing their fealty. Then the image of that same man - his face obscured - decapitating Vossari. At the end of another were a herd of assassins descending upon Azar, and the faint feeling of a lightsaber in his chest would be alarming enough to nearly knock Azar out of the Force realm. A dream that perhaps even his own mind had repressed for his protection.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

The visions Azar had were enough to send his emotions surging. He was skilled enough to know it wasn’t real, but it was unsettling because it meant someone knew the extent of his love for Vossari (@Fine Dining Set ). The image of decapitating the Wrean was a threat and one that wouldn’t go unanswered. By the time Azar opened his eyes, he looked over to see the faculty member from earlier wheezing and floating in the air. The images had distressed and infuriated Azar enough to where he unwittingly used the Force on the thing nearest to him.

He released the woman, letting her crumple to the floor as she dry heaved and gasped. Azar stepped over her to find the Champion from earlier, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Though he was normally loud and dramatic, pure rage saw him display an icy, cool resolve. It was more focused, more tempered, building for the perfect time to strike.

Azar heard half of what the Champion said, though he did quirk a brow, “What is a noob?” He inquired.

“Have you found anything that may give us a lead on where to look?”

 

[Vander]

Vander was acutely aware of where the Sith Lord was because at any moment it could turn out that he was being choked or flung or otherwise assaulted. In this case it was some other woman who was the unfortunate victim of his randomized violence.

Better her than me, he thought to himself, though he was caught off guard by the fact that the Sith Lord had actually heard his mutterings.

Uh, a newbie, sir. Someone inexperienced, he said, deciding it best to plow on with his findings rather than to linger and risk some sort of ire.

Yes, I think so, he said in response to the second question.

The bombs were professionally placed and they were both seismic charges. Very rare and expensive tech, which should make them easier to track down, he said.

He didn't ask if Arcanos had found anything himself.

There shouldn't be many dealers on world who sell them, and if they didn't sell the bombs they might be able to point us to whoever did, he said.

Sith with assassin training and lots of credits and the right connections, he summarized his findings. There couldn't be that many people around here who fit the bill. If it were up to Vander, he'd go question the arms dealers, but it wasn't up to him.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Based on what the Champion described and his own assessment, this was no amateur. That meant they wouldn’t go shopping for products in the most obvious places. Azar thought about the details he often overheard from his students about where to get the best spice or other black market products when they thought he couldn’t hear them. The Pureblood rubbed his chin, deciding he needed to be as discreet as possible.

“Join me by the East entrance in approximately two hours,” He said simply, giving no further details.

In the agreed upon time, Vander would find a figure waiting there. It had a similar build to Arcanos, but something was different. When the figure turned around, Vander would see a feminine face that would pass for a Zeltron woman. Already possessing beautiful, effeminate features, Azar drank a lazy position to make his Pureblood appearance less obvious. Alchemy could do wonders.

“There is an arms dealer in the blue district by the name of Lav Korvin,” Azar explained, even the voice convincingly feminine, “It is imperative that we don’t reveal who I am under any circumstances. Not my name, my title, none of it. Understood, Champion?” She said, her now dark pigmented eyes narrowing.

“Let’s go,” She said simply turning on her heel and strutting off to lead the way.

 

[Vander]

It seemed that Vander had been roped into something serious here, and rather than paying close attention, he started calculating his odds of making it out of this... shenanigan alive.

Understood, he said, returning to the Maverick to get himself cleaned up. He washed the soot off, changed clothes, threw on a layer of kolto, and headed back out again after tucking away his knife and lightsaber.

He checked his chrono, marking that he was on track go arrive exactly five minutes early. When he arrived, he found Arcanos already there, facing out toward the city. Vander wondered a moment what filled the thoughts of a Sith Lord... this. Was he worried about the identity of his attempted assassin? Was he enraged that someone had tried to assassinate him? Alternatively, maybe he was thinking about what kind of wine he wanted with his dinner. Such a different world the man lived in compared to Vander. Someday, maybe, he would manage to get there. To actually have influence.

Eyes on the prize. One day at a time, he reminded himself.

When Arcanos turned around... or wait, what? Visible confusion passed over Vander's face for a moment as he thought that he had met the wrong person out here.

Are you...? he cleared his throat and straightened up a bit, not actually finishing to question. There was still that sense of power that emanated and betrayed this was indeed Arcanos.

Okay so what should I call you? he asked. He would have probably had a great time trolling if it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to get strangled after the fact.

We'll have to take local transport if we want to blend in then, he said, heading down to... a bus stop.

Yes, Darth Arcanos, Sith Master Arcanist and Dark Council member was about to ride the bus.

With a belch of fumes, the bus came to a stop in front of them and the two Sith climbed aboard. Several people just looked at the two of them, but no one tried to move to give them a seat. Vander was pretty sure he smelled urine somewhere at the back of the bus.

He reached up and grabbed a hold of one of the railings above as the bus moved down the road.

Hey there sweety. You could sit on my lap if you want, a man next to Azar said, staring lasciviously at the Sith Lord's backside.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

“Zana,” She made up on the spot, looking over her polished nails and extra digits now that she had five fingers. It was a nice little luxury she was going to enjoy. The thought of public transport made her grimace at once, “Disgusting,” She huffed, but followed along regardless. It was far worse than she expected and Zana was forced to press against other disgusting and smelly individuals. How did people live like this daily?

As the man asked if she could sit on his lap, she gave an amused giggle before the eyes narrowed, “I’d rather sit on a cactus,” She said haughtily before the man’s eyes abruptly glazed over and blood began to seep discreetly from his ears. Zana looked over at Vander, scowling, “What?” As if challenging him to say anything about it.

Zana had to resist the urge to gag several times until they finally arrived at the designated stop. Stepping off the bus, she took out a spray bottle of perfume and spritzed it all over herself to liberate herself from the funk of poverty.

“Honestly, this is a social experiment I could have done without,” She said dryly before quickly walking down an alleyway. Changing appearances didn’t mean Azar’s navigational skills improved whatsoever. The Sith Lord still had the habit of confidently strutting off in the complete wrong direction.

 

[Vander]

Vander was - at first - almost unaware of what was going on. There was far too much going on for Vander to clock every conversation and his mind was far more focused on not being shanked by one of the many people in this bus. He hated buses. Or crowded places in general. Or being touched and bumped into. At least all of that was assuming he wasn't the one doing the stabbing.

And then suddenly he was glancing over to see someone bleeding from his ears, and he shot an annoyed look - albeit a toned down one because he didn't want to get squished - in Azar's direction.

Low profile, he said quietly. It was Azar that had wanted the low profile to begin with.

They made it out of the bus, barely before anyone noticed the dead body aboard and Vander pulled out his EZphone to check where they were going. Before he could punch in the address, though, Azar was plodding along with so much confidence that Vander assumed he must have known where he was going.

Vander glanced down at his phone and then back up at Azar and shrugged, heading off after the Sith Lord.

Well, as it turned out, it was about ten more minutes of walking and they were at the edge of the jungle and very much not at their destination.

Um... where are we going? he asked with a few confused glances around, pulling out his phone and now punching in the coordinates and seeing they had definitely gone in the wrong direction.

Uh... I think it's this way, he said, now just... thoroughly confused. He started angling back toward the right direction which led them into seedier and seedier neighborhoods.

His eyes flicked around the area, his anxiety growing slightly the deeper they went and the feeling of being hunted never quite breaking. It was like... being followed although he saw no one.

The sides of the road were littered with garbage and even the discarded husks of several droids. Dead animals - road kill - lay on the ground. It was just overall a disgusting area.

Do you sense something... off? Like we're being followed? he asked. Maybe he was just paranoid. Well... he was definitely paranoid, but it wasn't paranoia if they were really following you.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

“Ewww!” Azar screeched, his female voice echoing far too loudly throughout the alley, “Why didn’t you warn me I was about to step on a dead rat?” He hissed at Vander who would see a very pissed off Zeltron woman glaring at him with her heeled shoe planted firmly on top of said rat with viscera spilling out.

“And of course we’re being followed,” He said breezily, scraping the shoe off and muttering to himself about how expensive they were, “I’m banking on someone trying to rob us so I can get more intel from them,” He admitted to not actually knowing where this black market shop was. He just hoped he looked helpless enough to get mugged. Fortunately, just being himself managed that just fine. He was perhaps one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy right now, but when it came to street smarts and basic instincts, he was severely lacking.

“Go stand over there,” He said as he shooed Vander away, “You look far too appropriate and actually poor enough to belong here. No one will buy that you’re lost.”

Azar barely had to stand around for a few moments when a group of sketchy men sauntered over. The disguised pureblood looked over them all, “Oh, you all have matching tattoos, how adorable,” He said with a complete lack of amusement, the tattoos a clear sign they were part of some gang.

 

[Vander]

Vander's hand waved out in front of him as he motioned to the ground. It was almost easy to forget that this was still a Sith Lord... distressingly easy.

I'm not looking where you're going, he said. This was just... hrng.

As Azar promptly declared that he looked poor enough to actually live here, he glanced down at his clothes. His clothes weren't that bad. Okay, fine, he definitely didn't belong in the "rich people" zone, but that was for the best. He could blend in just about anywhere, and that was what he was going for. He glanced back to see the shooing motion. It wasn't like the Sith Lord couldn't handle things if they got bad.

Alright, alright, he said, heading off, eyes sweeping over the street before looking up above. He liked being up high. It was always a nice advantage and let him just... drop on people and merc them.

He ran over toward a fire escape, pulling the Force around himself and jumping up, grabbing onto the fire exit before climbing upward to a small balcony above Azar. Down there in his Zeltron disguise he was looking very... assaultable, and Vander had every confidence that was the idea.

It didn't take long for the cockroaches to start descending. There were three of them: a trandoshan, a human, and a twi'lek.

Vander barely even noticed that he started fingering the vibroblade in its holster, practically squirming at the opportunity to drop like some sort of evil batman onto the thugs and slice and dice. Their blood would run out onto the streets, squirming as the life left them and the galaxy was purged of one more leeching bottom feeder.

He took a breath that he didn't realize he had held in exhale and forced himself to relax, trying to work the tension out of the muscles that had tightened in anticipation.

Below, the trio had moved to start surrounding their prey, each one unashamedly looking over their Zeltron prey. The tongue of the trandoshan flicked out as if tasting the air, and the twi'lek was actually the first one daring enough to reach out and try to lightly run the back of his hand down Azar's arm.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar felt that touch and sighed, “Now why’d you have to go and do that? You were all doing so well until just then,” He said as the twi’lek’s arm abruptly snapped and bent in an awkward way, the bone poking right out of skin. No one registered what happened at first, the twi’lek in complete shock and his friends slow on the uptake.

The Pureblood held up a finger as the twi’lek did the intake of breath before bellowing a cry of agony, “Uh uh, not too loud now,” Azar said sweetly before the Force gripped him around the throat. The twi’lek was left standing in a soundless, agonized cry with his eyes wide as the pain of his broken arm washed over him.

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“Mm, now that I have your attention, I was hoping you could give me some directions,” Azar said calmly. But the Trandoshan and human were still floored by what happened to their buddy, both mumbling incoherently.

Azar sighed, “Alas, he is far too distracting,” He said moodily, bodily hurling the twi’lek up to land with a thud near where Vander was in case the Champion was feeling left out. The twi’lek started sobbing as he looked at Vander, “W-What just happened? Bro..help me please..what..” He gasped, holding up his mangled arm.

The man was out of sight and out of mind for Azar who turned his focus back on the two men, “Now then, where was I?”

After the ‘interrogation’ Azar had what he needed, both thugs left as empty husks with their minds sufficiently fried. The Sith Lord wiped his gunk-covered heels off on the dead men's clothing, cursing to himself before he started walking, “I know where to go now,” He called out sweetly to Vandar as he turned a corner.

 

[Vander]

Vander made a grimace as he watched the Twi'lek's arm snap and the bone pop out.

Throat gripped, half the life throttled out of him, bone sticking out of his arm. It was almost a mercy that the twi'lek was put out of his misery by Vander's vibroblade. It was easier when you didn't listen to their pleas for help. Or rather, Vander had heard so many of the same over the years that now it was just... whatever. He'd seen death before... since far too young an age. It had left an imprint on him that changed how he saw violence.

And so, when the vibroblade slipped into the man's throat and he began to spasm and panic in those final death throes, Vander just looked away to what Azar did below.

In short order, all three were dead and in various states of mangling. Vander had to think that someone was going to come along, see a body hanging up high with multiple violent injuries, and think there was a serial killer on the loose or something. Technically no.

He cleaned his blade on the dead man's clothes and vaulted the railing, landing below smoothly and quietly before falling in behind the Sith Lord.

It was all going... pretty smoothly, which was usually the part where the rug got pulled out from under your feet.

Their arrival at the black market area was met with silence. Vander reached out to the Force and sensed... death. In fact, it permeated this place in a way that was so very Sith.

His pace slowed, and his hand instinctively reached back to brush his lightsaber before his eyes fell on the saber burns that lined the lock on the door. It would become immediately apparent that another Sith had already been here, and they were - annoyingly - a step behind.

Someone was covering their tracks, and although Vander couldn't sense in the Force where they were, there was enough turmoil in the darkness that he could tell they were here somewhere.

He could feel his heart begin to pound in anticipation, and Azar would - surprisingly - find that whoever was here felt unusually slippery. As if they had been well trained in how to keep themselves hidden in the Force.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar was annoyed, but not entirely surprised to learn that their witnesses had been butchered. However, the Pureblood remained calm, glancing over at the Champion, “Keep watch, I will handle this,” He said simply, not elaborating any further. The Zeltron woman stepped into a shop that had nothing but bodies strewn about inside.

“I was hoping not to have to resort to this already…” Azar grumbled to himself as he drew back his sleeve. He took a knife and cut a fine line on his skin, letting the blood spill out. He closed his eyes and channeled the Force, drawing from the wound and tapping into the realm of his ancestors. It was taxing and it would leave him weak, but they would have answers.

Azar searched through the realm of the Force, the presences in that plane of existence guiding him towards the figure he sought. He found the being before long, the imprint of the dead body. There was no corporeal form to it as it was simply a fragment of what it once was when it manifested a body.

“How did you die?” Azar’s voice echoed within the Force.

“Yellow eyes…” The disembodied voice echoed, seeped in fear and dread, “An agent of a Lord believed to be forgotten….”

“Did they give a name?”

“No name…they spoke of a coming dawn to herald the sun setting on Tempest…they grow in numbers..”

Azar’s first thought was Raze, but this sounded different. He only had energy for those questions before he lost control of the imprint, the spirit entirely too distressed over its harsh separation from its earthly body.

In the physical realm, the Pureblood collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily from the ordeal. Necromancy was not a light or easy method of sorcery and he often didn’t dabble in it. He could use a version of it through blood magic, but it was horribly draining. He only hoped Vander did his part and kept them both guarded. Azar would breathily relay what he learned to his companion if there were no surprises.

Roll: Nat 20 for necromancy

 

[Vander]

Vander gave a nod as Azar said to keep watch. That was right within his wheelhouse: you know with his obsessive paranoia being ever-present.

He moved toward the door, closing it behind him and pulling the lightsaber from under his clothes. There was no reason to keep it concealed in the "privacy" of the building, and he felt better with the weapon in hand.

He started to methodically look through the room, checking windows and doors for cracks through which they could be shot or crevices where explosives could be set. He sensed no trap at present, but he had never relied solely on the Force for things like that. People could mask their thoughts and intentions with enough training.

That was when Vander's attention started to be pulled back toward the Sith Lord. At first he wasn't sure if the blood being drawn was part of an illusion, but in short order he realized it definitely wasn't a trick. Blood droplets dripped to the floor and the winds of the Force shifted like an icy chill. It rushed toward Azar and seemed to be almost engulfed within him before it echoed out.

Vander's eyes flicked around, looking for the body to go along with the voice, saber bursting to life in his hand out of instinct, but there was... no one there. It was just... nothingness, and it caused Vander's teeth to grind together. He knew that arcane powers existed, but he didn't really understand them, and he didn't trust them. Maybe it was as simple as him fearing what he didn't understand, but he knew that what he didn't understand was a potential hazard to him.

He forcibly shook himself back out of the trance of watching... whatever this was and pushed himself back to standing watch.

And then it was over, but Vander's mind still lingered on what he saw. From a practical standpoint it seemed very useful, but it unnerved him more than he would admit.

Moreover as he watched, it seemed that the Sith Lord was... drained. Vander wouldn't have been a Sith if he didn't think about the potential to capitalize on the weakness, but even if it weren't for the fact that there was little reward and lots of risk, he wasn't even sure that it wasn't simply a test.

It was a fleeting thought and quickly interrupted by something else concerning. He barely caught the glimpse out of the corner of his eye, but it was like a shadow against the far wall of the room. Perhaps the greatest species to act as a Sith assassin, a Shistavenan seemed to almost materialize only as his red lightsaber burst to life to strike at Azar.

Vander was quicker, though. His own lightsaber burst to life and clashed with a shower of sparks just in front of the Sith Lord.

The second blade of Vander's blade tore free and burst to life again, cutting low against the assassin and forcing him to retreat, which he did quickly, turning to flee now that his ambush had failed.