Korriban

[Commander Valinor]

Darkness fell on the small Dreshadae landing pad that the young Mordecai had alighted upon. Four sith troopers awaited at the edge of the pad, behind the hulking form of a Sith Lord. The dark cape of Lord Valinor swept against the age polished stone as he strode forward, his boots making little sound on the muffling carved stone. He approached the landing ramp and extended his hand towards the young man, his fingers curled and the air between them crackled with static discharge.

 

A roaring voice pounded in the brain of the young man, projected by the force, to hammer him from all sides.

 

You have asked to join the ranks of the great Sith Order, you called and we have answered. Show me your worth or die.

 

He reached out with the force and pulled the man towards him. Dragging him bodily down the ramp.

 

Your testing begins now

[Commander Valinor]

As the swordpoint glimmered silver before him, Valinor brought the man further down the ramp, the speed increasing as he dragged him. The man had guts, holding such a blade before Lord Valinor, and a shallow grin spread across the Sith’s face, under a mask of ebony durasteel. He dragged the man into his outstretched hand, letting the humming blade crash off his angled armour with a jarring clang.

 

Valinor grasped the man’s neck his his hand and tossed him to the ground. Where he would land on his back against the red carved stone.

 

You carry bravery, even in the face of poor odds. Well done.

 

He reached out his black gloved hand and brought the man to his feet again. He gestured towards the temple up ahead and began to walk in front of him.

 

Come. As we walk tell me of yourself, what drives you? What thirst for power brings you here?

[Commander Valinor]

Valinor’s laughter came as a bark of disapproval. His voice was soft and reproachful as they approached the great carved gate of the temple. The air became thick and dank as they walked through the dark doors of the ancient Sith Lords.

 

Your father was noone and by proxy you are as well. A better legacy than a hunk of nothing is an easy thing. Being a great warrior is more than that. It is a great journey that will take decades.

 

They paused before a great array of carven statues. He gestured towards the array, hundred strong that lined the corridor before them.

 

What do you know of the Sith?

[Commander Valinor]

With a twitch of a finger the lights around the room grew dark, save one that was positioned over the stone figure of Jidai Geki once a mighty Sith lord and Emperor of the Galactic Empire, beside him in the shadows were the hulking statues of Black, Furion, Dagon, and Ar-Pharazon the Golden. Together the pair walked before the ancient looking statue that had in truth only been carved into being a decade and a half before. He pointed to the stooped figure of Geki. The Emperor Mordecai's father had likely served.

 

There before us is one of the strongest men, warrior, and emperors that ever lived, now all that remains is a wreck of stone and ire

Valinor spun on his heel and continued down the corridor pointing to nameless sith after nameless Sith master. There was laughter in his voice as he spoke.

 

But who has heard of these men and women? Once called the most deadly or most powerful beings in the galaxy?

 

He turned and looked into the eye of Mordecai, the red fire from beneath his mask glinting in the pale light.

 

This galaxy is so full of chaos and death that a legacy built on that is not lasting. For the waves of pain and death will overtake you and pull you into the faceless masses the moment you decide that you have done enough. Legacy is a harsh thing to achieve and I am afriad the only way you can build such a thing is to kill more than the last great Sith lords. And that is a task beyond your current power

 

A thousand voices whispered in unison, coming from the statues themselves

 

What does our ruin teach?

 

Valinor held up his hand and the whispers stopped.

 

That is a lesson for another time. The history of the Sith is long and we do not have the time to cover it now. But they will teach you their history should you wish to know of it. For they have many lessons to teach.

 

He pointed to a clearing among the statues.

 

For now you will sit there and meditate. Tell me what you feel.

[Commander Valinor]

Good, you see the force for the tool it is

Came the barking voice of the Sith Lord. He slowly paced behind the young acolyte his boots almost silent in the great stone hall.

 

Take that clay and look closer, see how it permeates all that surrounds us? Extend your consciousness to the ground on which you sit.

 

As the man extended his feelings, the spirits of the ancient departed lords would leech at him. Speaking softly in his ear, claiming to give him power. If only he could bring them back to life.

[Commander Valinor]

Indeed

 

The voice rumbled like an avalanche of stone rolling down the glacially carved mountains ranges of the valley of the dark lords. The force had come easily to this young acolyte, far easier than many, but he still had much to learn before he would even see the great libraries or carry a lightsabre. The Sith Lord strode around the edges of the meditation ring until he stopped next to a grey wrought statue of durasteel. From its cold drasp he pulled an old hilt, broken and pockmarked with rust, the battery long ago corroded into component dust.

 

He tossed it lazily into the ring in front of the acolyte. Where it clattered noisily on the solid granite surface.

 

Now focus on this, only on this, describe to me what it is, what it feels, what you feel, and the stories it hold buried in its depths.

 

((This part I leave to your imagination, describe in fullest detail the old lightsabre, its crystal, the lord that held it, and any story you wish to make up about it. Make the post a full several paragraphs.))

[Commander Valinor]

Silence greeted the acolyte in return to his long explanation, the force stirred in the room with a twitch of the Lord’s hand. Bits of dust and stone whipped into a frenzy, a hurricane of filth that should have been decades ago swept away. In the dust a figure was outlined, walking slowly counter to it. Outlined in shimmering energy that absorbed and reflected the sparkling dust, illuminated by friction and cast off light from the overhead displays.

 

She is here little acolyte...Her spirit lives within that ancient blade, clinging to it to escape the darkness of her spirit. For once you accept the dark, there is no escaping it, even in death it consumes, and pulls at you.

The figure knelt in front of the acolyte the shimmering reflection of dust and light beginning to peel away to show the nothing beneath. But the eyes remained, begging for him not to do what would be ordered.

 

Now destroy it, grasp that fleeting power and rip it from its vestiges.

[Commander Valinor]

A mortal screeching echoed through the chamber, a young woman's last dying breaths spent in agonizing sorrow as she withered away, crushed and separated from her earthly devices. When the screeching ended, the silence was crushing. A life had been torn from the force without a second thought.

 

Now that the demon has been released, stretch forth your mind to the sabre, conform to it, and using the power from the force, try to move the wretched thing. Form a tendril of the force in your mind, touch it and finally move it.

 

Valinor stood beside the statue, his red eyes peering at the young man with hateful intent.

 

((Go into extreme detail on how your character visualizes the force, his presence, the act of stretching out, and finally how the force can move the object))

[Commander Valinor]

Again

 

Came the Sith Lords voice, echoing through the hallowed, haunted stone chamber.

 

And when you get it into your hand take this

 

A crystal landed at the young man's feet, followed by a battery. The crystal was sky blue, multifaceted, and sharp to the touch. It was ancient, grown in the crystal caves of some long forgotten world ere humanity ever stepped foot off their ancient homeworld. It carried the weight of the millennia, and had seen much tragedy in prior service , used in the wars by some nameless jedi who was slain by the hand of Marka Ragnos. His crystal and sabre brought here in one of the many treasure hordes of the ancient Sith Lords of Korriban. The battery was new, white cased, shipped from coruscant, labeled "Lemmabe 29A" And marked for use in data terminals. Both pieces lay upon the stone, in sharp contrast, ancient and newly manufactured. Both key to passing the first test.

 

And make the cursed thing sing again the song of darkness.

 

((Well done but more detail this time. Show me you character's feelings when he lifts it, the effort he puts forth, how the tendril of the force grasps the blade, how they fit together. Describe where the blade hilt fell, describe its weight, the carvings or lack thereof on its surface. Its up to you to paint the picture.))

[Commander Valinor]

Power was illuminating to those that sought it and while in meditation in the depths of Pelko, Valinor, commander and admiral of the Felix legions, awoke. The lust for power that emanated through the rock to penetrate his senses was enough to stir his interest. He sprang from the ground and strode towards its source, his red cloak billowing behind him like a spray of blood behind a blade. He stopped only for a moment at a weapons display before making his way to the cliff where young Camik Rhonik, the tawny beast from Cathar was training.

 

The stony wall of the cliffs behind the young cathar opened with a grind of stone on stone and Valinor strode through, holding an unlit sabre, and the only thing to be seen beneath a mask of black iron were two red glowing eyes. The eyes considered him and a smile stretched beneath the dark mask.

 

Acolytes report

 

The voice crashed into the Cathar’s mind through the force with military cadence which was echoed in the minds of the others on the cliffside.

 

You have shown potential so you will advance to the next step. Follow me.

 

The dark figure of the Sith admiral turned and walked into the dark tunnel from which he came. Which when entered contained a peculiar classroom, with oddly placed chunks of stone scattered about.

 

Take a seat, and tell me of yourselves, what drives you, what you wish and desire.

[Commander Valinor]

The crimson eyes of the Admiral slid from one student to the next until they settled on the Cathar.

 

Power is not freedom

 

His hand lifted slightly, and the room went dark, eliciting a yelp from one of the students. The orange blade of the admiral jumped forward and the student was left without an ear. Then the orange glow too disappeared with a snap hiss, leaving only total darkness. Even the eyes of the Admiral were gone.

 

Show me then your power that you so lust for

 

A wind picked up in the darkness, picking small stones and slivers of debris and tossing them with force around the room, the wind was powerful enough, and the force of the projectiles such that if a student was hit they would likely be injured.

 

At the top of this chamber there is a cave, in it you will find crystals, there are four of them. Work together or as single entities to get to the top without dying.

 

The large stones that were scattered about the room were the only thing to withstand the wind.

 

Though first you may wish to reach out with your senses and tell me what you see. Only then can you even attempt to make it. Use the stones as cover.

 

((Do not try to do this in one go, first try to get to cover in darkness, stretching out with your feelings to find the rock, then tell me what the rock feels like, what its history is.))

[Commander Valinor]

Eyes glowed crimson under a helm of charcoal black. The eyes observed silently, judging the abilities of the acolyte and were only obscured by the vaporous darkness that every so often crested over the crimson. It was that darkness which Valinor scattered about himself which hindered the eyes of foes and allies alike. But for now the eyes watched the young man work on his sabre.

 

When the acolyte looked up he was now deemed an apprentice, he had passed the first test. The building of a weapon of war. Valinor pushed against the wall at his side and the wall slid open to show three individuals, beaten and bloody.

 

All three were in their teens, both males in their late teens and the girl, whose cheeks reflected the red blade from the tears that traced down to her chin was in her early teens. Imperials all, and taken from Kuat during its fall. All of them had been in the junior flight academy there and the tattered remains of their uniforms still still showed the white imperial crest against the crimson fabric.

 

You have built a sabre and with that comes the power of apprinticeship. Now you decide their fate.

 

((You don’t have to be graphic, but this would be a good time to reflect on any old friends from childhood or sisters/brothers your character might have. Then kill or free these ‘innocents’ ))

[Commander Valinor]

((You have gained an NPC thrall/retinue which in a few posts we will decide what to do with))

 

Will is only a temporary thing young one.

 

The voice of the commander of the Felix Legions emanated from behind his mask as he evaluated the young apprentice’s deeds. He was strong, and learning, learning the desires that made a man great. He strode forward and placed his hand upon the young woman’s head, his fingers clawlike and where the armour touched, blood seeped from the pores until her face was matted with bright blood. She tried to scream but it came out a gurgle of pain as her bright eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.

She has the force and it is strong. In time you may mould her to your will, and I will send her to your chambers. Keep her as a thrall, but do not fall to the weakness of lust with this thing. A Sith deserves better. Now follow me.

Valinor strode from the room until they arrived at a large room, its floors covered by a few short walls and ramps. In its center, some ten meters high suspended in the air there was a crystal, blue in colour and radiating energy in the force.

 

Bring me that, and then we may continue one. You have ten seconds.

 

Turrets, three of them, descended from the ceiling, their low powered blasters scanning for a target, and when those seconds were up, they would knock the apprentice back down to size.

 

((Try and fail, learn how to overcome these obstacles, Distance, blaster bolts, and frustration))

[Commander Valinor]

 

Valinor, the admiral and commander of the Felix Legions let his silence hang over the room like a black acrid cloud. There was no disappointment in the silence, just calm judgement, studying the young man in silence as he gripped his crystal like a trophy won at an awards gala. His voice finally echoed in the silence, breaking it like a fragile plate.

“It was indeed easy. Now replace the crystal in your lightsabre with the one you hold, let it bind to the darkness in your spirit. Meditate on it. And when you are done…”

The Turrets that had before been part of the challenge loomed overhead. But where the crystal had been, now lay tied up the thrall that he had spared from death. Her pain and fear radiating in the force like a storm. Her voice muffled in its tears as she strained against her bonds and tried to spit the gag out. 

“Rescue her. But for now feed upon her despair while you meditate.”  

((Meditate, then try to actually physically get up there while under fire. You thrall wont die. Fail as well, so that your character can learn from that))

[Commander Valinor]

Ahhh well done then boy

Came the voice that thundered throughout the training area. The figure clapped his hands slowly and gestured for the apprentice to follow him. He turned and strode through the tunnels of the dark lords. Their statues looming overhead, staring with stone eyes. The only memory the galaxy had of them. He gestured to a towering stone figure. 

What lesson is taught to us from these statues of sith lords young Mordecai? 

[Commander Valinor]

Aye. Well said young one, merely seeking death and destruction is not a legacy that lasts. If you wish to be hated by millions of mothers and children and believe that is some kind of legacy that will last beyond a single generation it is foolishness. For who even remembers Ar-Pharazon the Golden? Terrian the cruel? Lord Achzet? 

His sweeping hand took in the statues dismissively. 

They are nothing, because they built nothing. That is our crucial flaw Mordecai. We do not look to the generations in front of us to leave a legacy to. 

His hand became an fist. 

We consolidate power out of greed and that power dies with us. We have built nothing but crypts and tombs, halls to our eternal power that show little but decay. 

The mask's eyes flared red gold. 

Do what I do little one. Build order, build stability, build the next generation. And do not fall to the trap that is power for powers self. 

The eyes turned to the apprentice.

Do you understand? 

[Commander Valinor]

Ahh so you have made the choice to follow us despite the warnings of every one before you

The voice was now strangely soft and its pitched changed to a tired tone, as a black hand reached up to tug the mask from Valinor’s face. Bright blue eyes stared back at Mordecai, as the black mist surrounding the commander of the Felix legions disintegrated into the air. The eyes were the striking feature of the commander’s face, and when the darkness surrounding had disappeared, the commander was revealed to be a woman. Mid twenties, face covered by red tattoos.

She extended a black gloved hand to the young man.

“Then join me, and tell me of what you wish to be within the Sith.” Her hand swept wide. “What draws you, a warriors spirit? A tricksters?”

[Commander Valinor]

“Well naturally we make you a Sith Assassin, like the Spider.”

A bright blue eye winked.

“But really we teach you how to become invisible and strike where it hurts most.”

She let go of his hand and pointed to a large expanse of shifting sand that was gathered at the feet of several statues.

“Go sit, meditate, and figure out how to disguise yourself in the sands.”

 

[Commander Valinor]

The subaltern had tried to be quiet in his approach to where the high ranking Sith Lord was teaching her apprentice, an effort to not disturb the mighty lord perhaps. But it was ineffective and the twinkle of laughter left Valinor’s eyes in a second as she felt the nervous man’s approach. Her voice was soft as she whispered to the apprentice as she stood up and placed a small hand over her beautiful face.

 

“We are disturbed. Can you not sense his apprehension? It is...delicious.” The hand covering her face went dark and in an instant the smiling face of Katarra Corun now deemed Lord Valinor was gone. Swallowed in shadows. “There must be something of great calamity to disturb me as such.”

 

Two sharp knocks echoed in the room from the subaltern, who swiftly opened the door and stepped inside. His face downcast. But his apprehension had piqued to a ferocious anticipation. And he announced himself, the eagerness dripping off his voice like a thick film.

 

“The Dark Lord has called all forces to action My Lord.”

 

He saluted and held out a slip of parchment like flimsiplast.

 

“We are called to war lord.”

 

Beneath the masquerade of shadows a smile crept from ear to ear. Her voice was harsh and victorious.

 

“Assemble the armies.”

 

Korriban had been called. And the old Ark of the Sith would answer.

 

“Stay in my shadow little one. By weeks end you and I may dine on the flesh of mighty warriors.”

 

________________________

 

Great shuttles descended from the grey cloudless sky to land among the old statues. They would be loaded with Lords and Ladies of the sith and their retinue before departing for space and the summons of their liege lord. Some many thousands of force users left the Temple of Unholy Dormition in this matter.

________________________

 

|The Felix legions|

marcet sine adversario virtus

 

One by one they appeared, black helmets dull in the Korribani sun, eyes dark behind the veil of the force. Blasters they carried, cradled in brutish arms, with sabres of darksteel slung on dark leather belts. Creatures of the darkside, unholy in intention and spirit, prepared to fight the enemies of their Lord commander. The dark four thousand and one.

 

 

((You may post us leaving to space. Have fun with it.))

[Commander Valinor]

The Sith combined force of troops and special forces departed Korriban to their rendezvous with their Dark Lord. 

 

((To Space!)) 

[Commander Valinor]

The Man, purple faced and well tattooed, held the vial up like a talisman. It appeared to be 

 dried blood in a canister of preservative, a crude way of preserving a specimen but not unheard of. Lord Valinor, The leader of the Felix legions, terror embodied, took the vial with a bow of respect. It was not often that the warriors of Kesh brought forth an envoy to the halls of Korriban. And as such, the Sith would treat any requests of theirs in the spirit of ecumenicalism. Even if it was just the request to clone a mighty Lord.

 

_______

 

Weeks later, in the depths of the medical frigate Xerxes, in orbit around the sand planet, a cloning tube beeped away in a drum beat of noise. Orderlies responded, left their preparations, popped the seal of the tank and slunk off into the darkness. When the great Baron of Kesh would awake, he would find a black tunic, made of expensive silken thread, boots of equally fine leather, and at last a single parang.

[Commander Valinor]

The warships of the Korribani Defense grid were always kept in shape enough to fight, even if their crews took rotational breaks in the relative freedom of Dreshdae’s cold winter nights. However, for the crew of the Unwavering Pursuit, they werelucky enough for the command team to all be on ground. The Admiral, sitting in the chambers of state in Dreshdae, gave a growl of appreciation to the subordinate that brought her the news. 

 

“Another defection, another day the rebel alliance falls further apart.” 

 

A normal and expected response to the report of a defector, but Lord Valinor had other thoughts. Within a few minutes, a company of the Felix Legion was despised along the docking bay and Valinor herself stood await the crew to disembark. 

[Commander Valinor]

The forces of the Felix legions watched eagerly for any signs of potential resistance from the defecting craft and when none came, most of the soldiers let their disappointment show visibly on their faces. But they kept their weapons ready in case a fight should break out. 

 

Valinor strode forward, trailing a darkness that cut through the bright summer day like spilled ink. Boots paused ominously at the edge of the boarding ramp and the voice that echoed from within the darkness boomed through the minds of all. 

 

Those that believe themselves competent in the force please line up on the left, those who are not force sensitive please array yourselves before me.

[Commander Valinor]

 

A shuddering breath brought the scent of someone long unlooked for and it brought a dark smile to the hidden lips of Valinor. But when the hidden masquerade looked back upon the small Imperial crew, the smile turned quickly to a frown of disgust. Valinor took a step back and surveyed them. 

 

Some stood with fear, others with pride, but in what Valinor could not tell. For how could deserters have pride? Cowardice begot desertion, and if they believed that they would have fan fare for their ‘valiant return to the empire’ they could not have been more wrong. 

 

She looked down the long line then raised her hand, stopping all of the idle chatter from troops and deserters alike. She held the hand open, a lightsabre pommel laying unlit across the outstretched palm. The darkness that surrounded the Sith Lord began to grow, like a web shaped by a spider. Sliding across the ground and through the air. And when the voice came it was terrible. 

 

Deserters deserve nothing less than death. And those that do not follow my instructions deserve a worse fate. You see the Sith are not a welcoming order. We accept only the Strongest

 

The lightsabre came on, a pale orange blade fighting and sputtering against the darkness. Valinor tossed it up into the air, where it would land at the feet of the crew. 

 

The one who survives may join our order

 

Laughter bellowed from the troops surrounding the Unwavering Pursuit, and like a lightswitch being flipped, darkness surrounded the deserters. Leaving them to slaughter each other like gladiators in some ancient arena. 

 

[Commander Valinor]

Valinor watched as the old apprentice approached. He had very obviously grown in stature and in power, her nose could tell her that. His aura was enticing, powerful, and had grown to the noontide of its power. She watched him as he approached and listened as he talked of his deeds. And she could feel the pride burning like a fever on his forehead. She lifted her hand as he finished and the area fell quiet. 

 

“Your power is strong but swift. You burn with power, but it will consume you. You will not see grey upon your head. At least....” Her voice turned soft, kind, and distant. “...You will die beautiful.”  

 

She let her hand drop. 

 

“But you have made me proud, and you will become a great lord before you stumble. I name thee Darth Mavanger, take these deserters and mould them to your will.” 

 

She turned, and with nothing further, walked into the lonely halls of Korriban.

[Commander Valinor]

Within the Bastion the forces of the Sith Training Academy stirred to their morning routines. Acolytes began their morning jogs, while masters met and meditated before they turned to their morning meals. Within the training academy, Lord Valinor the commander of the Felix Legions who ritually guarded the valley of the Dark Lords, strode down the halls towards the vague glimmer of the new arrivals. Valinor carried a darkness with them, as if they were a ghost within a thick fog, so that everywhere they went, a darkness fell upon the room as if the lights had begun to dim. 

 

It was in this ghastly form that Valinor came to the entrances of the Bastion of Pelko, the dark eyes within the darkness greeting those few acolytes that had not been admitted the night before. Though there were only four left from last night, a new presence of a young man showed himself. 

 

Five then

 

Valinor looked at Mike with little interest before gesturing him to the entrance where the other four sat waiting. 

 

“So you seek entrance to our holy academy? What brings you here?” 

 

The voice was low and rough as if it was echoing through gravel and carried a dread with it.

[Commander Valinor]

The Sith master’s eyes opened in mock terror, and their voice came in a pitiful moan of mocking dismay. 

 

“Oh woe to thee that you were so pitilessly hounded!”

 

The dark eyes narrowed to slits of dark magenta that glimmered in the rising sun of the midmorning. And with the speed of a striking cat the Sith master strode forward and struck the boy across the face with the back of their hand. And when the master spoke, the voice was devoid of emotion.

 

 “Were you not strong enough to stand for yourself?” The hand raised as if to strike again then pointed to one of the acolytes, a girl of the same age as Mike who stared up with abject horror towards the Sith Master. 

 

“So show us how you will rule. Show us how you would make the galaxy quake in fear.” With a flick of the dark wrist a small knife flipped into Mike’s palm. Its obsidian blade a horrible black and its edges razor sharp. The voice was cruel when it came. “The girl is useless to us, and cannot even touch the force.” The girl shouted in alarm and tried to back away but was trapped by the stone walls of the entrance. “Now show her the mercy you would show as a Sith Lord. Show us the man you would be. I put her fate in your hands.” 

 

It was a classic test of the Sith Lords, a judgement of power and a judgement of conscience. Was it true that he was being ordered to kill so quickly? Or was there some other purpose there among the shadows...

 

And Valinor smelled the scent of another, a darker presence from beyond the grave. Their face turned to the distant rocks before flicking back to the young boy. 

 

Come forth you who lurk

 

Echoed in Fynns mind. @Fynn Relmis

[Commander Valinor]

Hands and arms drummed in slowing agony against the dark earth as the sands of Korriban accepted yet another sacrifice to the glory of the Sith. Dark blood bubbled and frothed as it was absorbed into the greedy sand, and when the body was still, Valinor’s eyes turned yet again to the young living acolyte. Showing within them a tinge of an ancient regret. 

 

“Is that what you think power is?” 

 

The ghostly form of Valinor reached forward a hand and the knife that had been gifted flew to it. Disappearing into the dark fog that surrounded the Sith Master. The gift had been freely given, but being disused, the gift was taken back. The voice carried with it disappointment.

 

“Then you have much to learn. Follow if you wish to learn the lesson that was put before you.”

 

And with that, the Sith Master strode into the open gates, leaving them open should Mike and the remaining three young acolytes wish to follow.

[Commander Valinor]

Dark eyes under a darker cowl watched the young acolyte. There was such confidence there, such a delight for violence, an untempered rage that shone through every pore. It was nauseating, And so the Sith Master reached out a hand and slapped the boy across the left cheek. Not hard, not enough to spin him around or snap his neck, but enough to rattle his jaw and emphasise the point. 

 

“Violence does not beget power.” The hand stayed raised, then settled back into the darkness of the cloak. "The Emperor does not need another untempered blade to be used and thrown away. I will not waste my time on such a thing. Power is the threat of violence. And the knowledge of when to apply it. That is your first lesson.” 

 

“Now tell me, boy. What you will do with your power.” 

 

((try to draw this post out longer. Give description, and decrease your font size)) 

 

The eyes looked up to Fynn and the hand came out again, beckoning him forward. 

 

“And you, you are not young, and a dormant power lies within you. What is your story?”