William the Bloody
Valaryion Dragonborn
Hunvar's Spire, Kala'uun, Ryloth
The young man sat on the throne observing his guests partake of the feast laid out before them. Below, on the sub level easily seen through the viewing port centered in the grand dining room, several twilek warriors battled in hand to hand combat for the viewing pleasure of the crime lord. The sound of muted grunts and cries of pain could be vaguely heard above the din of dining. Off to the right a band played a symphony of music as the young man looked on with ironic amusement.
Ryloth, once infamously known for slavery, was free. But people who have been enslaved never truly acquire freedom. It was bred into their dna, brainwashed into their minds. Freedom was an illusion. So William offered them subjugation, chains of their own choosing. For some it was their gluttonous life styles, for others it was drugs, even more was someone with a firm hand to give them direction in their newly minted freedom. But the common denominator was that people needed a purpose from someone with vision.
And the young man was more then willing to share his vision.
With the slavers either banished or executed there hovered a vacuum of power. And ever the devious entrepreneur, William was more then happy to supply the focus to a floundering people who had only know subjugation. True, he didn't possess slaves from a technical standpoint, but everyone had a vice, a need, a desire. And he exploited every single one.
Gladiators who had only known battle were given an outlet for their violence that had been instilled in them. The exotic dancers became call girls who could now safely practice their wares. Drug users were given new purpose in manufacturing pharmaceutical grade narcotics as well as their more illustrious recreational products. The wealthy who survived on bribery, kickbacks, and the familiar decadent lifestyle were more then willing to accept a new benefactor.
Business was good.
The man leaned back against the throne and awaited a very special guest. The newly christened Viceroy of Ryloth. Change was in the air, any could taste it. But for Ryloth change was merely an illusion. Nothing changed despite the Confederate propaganda. The natives of Ryloth had spent generations upon generations as slaves. Their freedom was a mere technicality. No one was truly ever free.
[member="Lyla Quinn"]