All action takes place, so to speak, in a kind of twilight,
which like a fog or moonlight, often tends to make
things seem grotesque and larger than they really are.
~ Carl von Clausewitz
It wasn't often Castor revisited the battlefield after the fact, such tasks were usually left for the disciples or the military machine of the First Order - whether its illustrious Stormtrooper Corps or its bastard brother, the Auxiliary. Something had tugged at the Knight of Ren however, a sudden absence of a presence he had grown used to feeling at the edge of his mind. Castor couldn't shake the feeling and so instead he joined the festivities. Their mission had been completed, Jedi resistance carved out of sewers they hid in like the rats they were. *They were exterminated.* The thought brought no joy to the Knight, but a weary resignation that their task had been carried out, their mission brought to completion.
A heavy grunt exited the Ren's lips as he hoisted the carcass of some robed body up onto his shoulder, blood seeping into his own dark garments. The twitch of a sneer formed as he stepped forward and then pushed, the body heaving up off the man's shoulder - and onto the sharpened wooden stake. *Let this be a lesson to the Jedi, those defiant vermin who stayed our grasp for so long. No longer.* A wet sound filled the Ren's ears as the lifeless body settled lower on the stake, crimson glistening on the exposed wood. How many had he hoisted today? He couldn't recall, the battlefield had been strewn with bodies, debris, scattered cloth, dirt, and pooling blood.
Castor raised his eyes to the field of battle once more, his eyes gazing past the hundreds of stakes erected across the upturned earth. Each stake, another broken body adorned upon its point - each one a message of resounding clarity. *If you disregard the will of Sieger, you will pay the price.* For a moment his attention was drawn, the glimmer of something reflecting the waning rays of the sun. It could have been a piece of metal, a belt buckle, or even the glint of shattered glass but something didn't feel right to Castor. *Is that...*
In an instant the Knight's feet carried him across the broken ground towards the shimmer, a crumpled figure visible, the bright shimmer emanating from an object clasped in its hand. Recognition etched its mark across the Knight's drawn features, the breath sucked from his lungs. Silently he rushed to a knee, hands reaching for the cowl cast across the victim's face, dark robes suggesting something sinister - and then his fear was confirmed.
A cataclysmic force threatened to overwhelm the Knight of Ren as he knelt there next to the shattered body. He didn't believe it, eyes searching for an alternative. As if wiping the sleep from his eyes Castor rubbed his clenched fists against his eyelids. It was to no avail, for the face which his eyes gazed upon was none other than that of Sieger Ren. The Supreme Leader... was dead. *No one else can know.* A hasty movement saw the cowl replaced, silver hilt of the lightsaber quickly concealed beneath Castor's robes as he reached down and hoisted the husk that had been Sieger. He felt weak, his steps feeble as he tried to gain a sense of what brothers and sisters were nearest to him - had they seen? Did they know? *The Masters.* They would know how to proceed, how to handle this development. As his footsteps carried him from the battlefield, Castor made a silent plea... If ever they needed the guidance of Sieger's most senior, it was now.
Edited by Castor Ren, 23 July 2018 - 10:04 PM.