Ask Speak Your Business

[Darth Tempest]

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Things were rapidly changing within the Empire. Whether it was the ever-evolving war with the Consortium or her recent meeting with Darth Trelain, the half-Annfyn was preparing herself for the days to come - consolidating her resources on Thule and reaching out to fellow Sith within the Empire. She would need support, and to build on what had already been established in the preceding months.

She couldn’t deny being somewhat curious to receive the request from Roman to meet. The Champion hadn’t been on her radar for years, and their last interaction on Dolla hadn’t ended on particularly positive terms. Nevertheless, Vahliri decided to hear out whatever the Champion to say.

Agreeing to meet him within her citadel, Vahliri seated herself at the throne at the end of the room - the square-cut chunk of obsidian positoned on a raised dais. She was adorned in her signature black-and-red robes, hood left down and twin lightsabers clipped to her belt - the one on the left having been bled from the crystal of Fennex. The walls of the throne room were lined with Royal Guards, each sporting their signature crimson armor and saberpikes held vertically.

“See him in,” She ordered one of her guards, gesturing for him to usher Roman into the throne room whenever he arrived.

PvP/DE enabled by default.

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

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Roman had not been involved in much Sith business after the Bacta attacks, sustaining significant injuries in the catacombs beneath, the Champion had spent some time recovering before returning to active field duty. In his absence, it seemed several things had changed including the pivotal players involved in Sith Leadership. One such figure however was arguably the most promising of rising Sith Warriors, Master Kahtal. He had met Vahliri some time ago and even he admitted to himself that their first meeting did not go as well as hoped. However, her reputation and prestige continued to grow while his had remained rather stagnant.

She was to be feared but as any wise Sith knows, even the most capable entities require some assistance behind the scenes. Irrespective of how Vahliri felt about Roman, she knew that he was ruthless and not afraid to get his hands dirty. Admirable qualities, to say the least.

Roman arrived a few minutes earlier than scheduled, his broad shouldered frame grabbed within his classic armor, face hidden behind the terror inspiring visage. Eyes peered from beneath the orbs of his helmet, a single Sith longsword strapped to his back, its metallic blade sharpened and resonated with sinister sith magics, capable of rending it equivalent in blows to a lightsaber. It was rumored that the champion preferred the feel and sight of cutting flesh with a blade rather than plasma.

Arriving within the throne room, he glanced briefly to the guards before attention settling upon the seated Vahliri. Roman exchanged a friendly nod in greeting, before speaking, his voice robotic and mechanical as it escaped through his helmet's scrambler. "Your powers have nearly tripled since the last time we met, such I can sense in your palpable aura..."

"Congratulations on your ascension...and....". pausing for a moment, Roman studied the architecture of her throne room as well as the decorations she had selected to adorn it... "Acquisition... This new power, suits you..." He spoke, before taking a respectful knee several meters in front of her, torso bowing down as expected. He knew his place, she was his superior, and rarely did Roman break the traditions of Sith formality.

"Thank you for meeting with me...Master Kahtal. Or do you prefer Queen now?" He asked.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

For quite a while, Vahliri was silent - watching as Roman marched into the Throneroom, amber eyes fixated sternly onto the Champion. It had been years since they’d seen each other last, and the half-Annfyn wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from their meeting. She didn’t put anything past the man, and accordingly didn’t let her guard down.

“Champion Antillies,” Vahliri said after a long moment, studying Roman from her perch. With a simple wave of her hand, the half-Annfyn dismissed the group of guards that stood like statues against the wall - their exit heralded by the stamp of boots against the obsidian floor. It was only once they were alone that Vahliri returned her gaze to Roman, arching a brow as he dropped to a knee.

“You have my thanks,” She said in response to his congratulations, jutting her chin for the Champion to return to his feet. While Vahliri certainly wasn't above flattery, it was difficult to tell quite yet whether those sentiments were genuine or had some underlying purpose. He’d observed courtesy, and the half-Annfyn was far more interested in actually hearing what the man had to say. “Rise.”

“Either title is suitable,” She said simply. “I suspect you won’t keep me in suspense, as to the purpose of your request?” Vahliri stared down at him expectantly.

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

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Roman's armored form slowly stood to its full height as she commanded, responding with a simple nodding gesture. "As you wish."

"Purpose? I suppose I can't come for a simple tour of your estates' countryside?" He responded with a light hearted chuckle, hoping to begin things with some simple pleasantries and friendly exchanges. Though knowing Vahliri, Roman wouldn't waste too many moments by having her linger on his joke and instead began to speak the answer to her original question. "Even when you were ranked my equal, I could tell your conviction and strength held you at different heights. Seems my instincts were correct.." He said, his attention slowly drifting to the room's walls and decorations before settling back upon the Sith Master.

"The First Blade captured by the Hutts, another Champion executed for his failures, and an Empire waning with heavy blows from our opposition. Times have changed..." He paused momentarily, merely sustaining eye contact with her for a moment before resuming his conversation.

"But you...someday you'll have all of us executing your will." His torso bending forwards in a gracious bow. "So, my Queen, I ask for an opportunity to prove myself worthy of fighting in your campaign... You have your apprentice, your armies, and even your diplomats."

"Instead, I hope to be your answer for affairs requiring more..........brutality".

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Though she said nothing, Vahliri arched a brow when Roman made his lighthearted and friendly quip, alongside the string of admirations and flattery that followed. Perhaps the Champion had truly changed since the last time they’d encountered one another, and his words were genuine. Or perhaps - more likely - he thought that playing to the half-Annfyn’s vanity would achieve the results that he desired. Her mind immediately went to work, quietly and without a word, to determine what exactly the man wanted from her.

Trust was a fleeting commodity amongst the Sith, and their interactions in the past certainly weren’t doing Roman any favors. It had little to do with holding a grudge, and everything to do with the Order in which they belonged to. Anything less was a liability.

By the time Roman finished speaking, Vahliri leaned forth in her seat ever-so-slightly - studying the Champion for a long moment. “Brutality,” She repeated after a moment, pondering the notion. “And is that all you are capable of, Champion Antilles?”

“I will be perfectly candid with you,” She said with a tilt of her head. “The Sith Order is filled with individuals capable of swinging a lightsaber and inflicting 'brutality',” Her gaze grew harsher as she stared at him. “Individuals who also seem to lack the ability to generate a single strategic thought. Incapable of controlling their emotions, and who make asinine decisions as a result.”

“I don’t need a Darth Draugr serving beneath me,” Vahliri said pointedly, having no qualms with openly pointing out the brutish and unintelligent nature of their captured Councilor. The Empire reeled as a result of his foolish decisions, and Vahliri hated him for it. “If that is what you are offering, consider me uninterested.”

“You wish for an opportunity to prove yourself? I presume you have come here with a methodology of doing that.” She asked. It was less of a question, and more of an expectation for Roman to explain why Vahliri ought to give him the time of day. “Why should I allow you to fight in my campaigns? Why should I trust you at all?”

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

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Roman tilted his head into a confident angle as she spoke, her words a reflection of the turmoil grasping the order currently. He was not surprised to hear her hesitations, after all, he had been but a merely forgotten thought all these years. Attempting to court one of the most promising Masters for a position in her ranks wasn't going to be easy, that much Roman knew.

As she displayed her reservation, there was not an ounce of reeling visible in the armored Champion. For as weaker warriors grew defensive and succumbed to doubts with words, Roman remained silent and attentive as she finished her thoughts. Within him however, there was an insatiable appetite for darkness, a palpable aura that resonated with a certain strength of character. Bold and masculine, it ushered a wave of stability and poise, the bulwark against her tempest. Unshakeable.

"Yes, I am aware of Darth Draugr's misfortunes. Though if I may be candid, I am not surprised with the outcome. I anticipated his lack of decorum would ultimately be his undoing. The councilor's mistake, which I do not intend to repeat..." He spoke, pausing for a brief moment before continuing again.

"Strategy, wisdom, and deception. Finest of tactics, though in the end, someone will have to shed blood....And that is an art in of itself...The painter, who uses only red..."

Roman smiled lightly, nodding his head in respect for the Sith Master. "With your permission, Queen of Thule. I ask to invoke the Order's most sacred doctrine. The Rule of Strong..."

"I challenge your finest warrior to single combat....for the privilege to fight at your side.."

@Altaris