Cathaoir Ordo
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Affiliation: Mandalorian Clan Ordo
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Post by Cathaoir Ordo on Jun 8, 2015 10:30:38 GMT -8
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Darth Andor
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Affiliation: Order of Ruin
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Post by Darth Andor on Jun 8, 2015 20:47:21 GMT -8
Korriban, a world of darkness, caterer to the Sith, and the birthplace of Darth Andor.*
*The Sith Lord had returned, his black boots crunching in the ever-sifting sand. His black cloak flapped lazily behind him, exposing his usual crimson tunic beneath. His hood was down, the sun's light highlighting Andor's sickly pale flesh: the skin was pulled to tight across his cheekbones and his lips were blood red and thin. His short white hair moved restlessly with the breeze as his head craned up, his electric blue eyes taking in the sight of the massive ziggurat before him.*
*The Eternal Pyre.*
*He had come here to kneel at its alter and to confront the spirits of the hundreds of Sith Lords of old. He sought their knowledge and their power to help strengthen the Order of Ruin, a successor to the long lost Brotherhood of Darkness. He absent-mindedly took inventory of the supplies he had brought with him, as he always did. Strapped to each forearm, and concealed beneath the sleeves of his crimson tunic, rested two identical black lightsaber hilts trimmed in gold. Holstered to his right hip was a DC-15s blaster pistol, and in a pouch attached to his belt in the small of his back was a single thermal detonator. On top of those, Andor also had his cortices and phrik lined prosthetic left arm which began just above the elbow and ran down to the wrist, where it connected to a cortosis-lined Neuro-Shock Hand, concealed beneath a very thin layer of synth-flesh that matched the rest of his white flesh. And he had the power of the Force at his disposal.*
*Even now he could feel its power surrounding him, emanating from the planet itself with all its dark and violent history. He felt it coarse through his body, burning his veins as it raced from his black heart to his head and to his toes. It swirled around him like a hurricane, stronger than any sandstorm Mother Nature could produce on this desolate world. He was surrounded by it. He reeked of it. He was consumed by it.*
*He took a step forward, and his right foot landed firmly on the first sculpted stone step as he began his ascent, each step bringing him closer to the altar of the Eternal Pyre.
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