Darth Malcharion stood alone on one of the numerous terraces scattered across the Black Citadel, the terrestrial home of the Emrick Dynasty on Myrios. The black robes he wore, covering the many machine parts that now made up his body, drifted in the breeze. The scent of rain filled the Grand Lords senses as he stared into the distance, watching the rising red giant that marked the beginning of another day. He closed his yellow eyes for a brief moment, breathing in and centering his mind for the affairs to come today, before finally opening them. Turning, hands folded behind his back, he walked towards the entrance of the terrace.
Two white and red clad servants bowed to the Grand Lord of the Emrick Dynasty as he marched through the opening, quickly turning and sealing the doors behind him. The storms on Myrios were frightening affairs to be sure, and with the Black Citadel located high up in the mountains, it would experience the full force of the typhoon. The fortress had been built to resist such weather conditions, but there always seemed to be a new leak somewhere. Darth Malcharion's armored footsteps echoed down the marble corridors of the Black Citadel as he made his way through sparsely decorated halls and chambers. He passed few members of the Dynasty in his journey, the Black Citadel was too large now for the few of them that remained, and only quickly groveling servants crossed his path.
Most days, Malcharion was busy dealing with matters of state; organizing the resources of Myrios, overseeing the training of new soldiers for the Dynasty, and fending off attempts by the other Sith to try and remove him from his throne. The only official way to become the Grand Lord was to challenge the current holder of the title to a Kaggath, but few of the remaining Emrick Sith were willing to risk such a move against Malcharion. Instead, subtle accidents were orchestrated to try and remove him. A week rarely went by where he did not have to punish a member of his family for being too blatant with their assassination attempt. It was fine to try, but to do it too publicly was frowned upon.
Entering a private study, Malcharion turned to look at a clock situated on the wall. It was nearly time. He had reached out to another individual, learned about through the connections to this Brotherhood of Darkness. He had invited them to Myrios for a discussion, and hoped that they would arrive without too much delay. Taking a seat in a rather ordinary armchair, the Grand Lord of the Emrick Dynasty and the ruler of Myrios picked up a data pad from the table next to the chair, and began to read daily reports.
Firrerreo
