"Oh my, this is fitting." Raoh said, with words escaping his mouth with hushed glee. "You've chosen a fine training ground..." Raoh sauntered through the hallowed burial grounds. His hand brushing against the headstones of the fallen. Each felt different under his fingertips. Each told a different story. Those who were loved, saw theirs well taken care of. While those who were not, found theirs forgotten to the canals of time. This was a sacred ground for many, and they would be desecrating it.
Raoh knew naught of the Sith who would train him, but It did not weigh heavily on his conscious. This Sith was a means to a end. A means to regain his lost culture, and regain a part lost for him to time. He turned to the Sith, brimming with a smile. "Shall we?" Raoh asked, with twisted anticipation. This would be the first step of many, in fulfilling The Rotting Mother's prophecy.
[member="Darth Rapax"]