[Several months had passed since the catastrophe that was the Synod. News had begun to properly spread, even as the death toll continues to rise. People missing, resistances crumbling, merging, disbanding as ideologies clash, it seemed like everything was more fractured than it had ever been.]
[Emperor Skywalker had died at the Synod. The Empire had fallen, destroyed by one of Skywalker's own adjudicators. He'd become something immeasurable. Something wholly dedicated to seeing everything the Emperor built brought to ruin. And somehow, even Jadus, whatever he had become, had met a grim fate.]
[The Empire was gone. A chapter in this world's history that will some day likely fascinate scholars...but to those who saw its rise and fall, it will be a ruined monument to hubris. It was gone and all those who seemingly lived there died with it. Even the one who brought Jadus down vanished with nary a trace.]
[Several months have passed and despite the unrest whirling about outside, the Vale is likely to be doing well given its secluded nature. So it's a little worrisome that some have called upon the Vale's caretaker. Someone appears to be approaching from the east. A man who, at one point stood tall and confident, reduced to hobbling on a gnarled staff made of lashed together wood and metal. His broad body emaciated, muscles lacking any real definition, clothes practically sloughing off of his frame. But most noticeably, his vibrant blue hair hangs matted, framing his face, mussed and long falls halfway down his back. And from beneath unkempt and shaggy bangs, green eyes seek out someone familiar.]
[He's stopped at the entrance and he scratches at the scruff on his chin and cheek, blue hair filling out sunken a pale face and slightly gaunt features. When asked to identify himself, he coughs.]
no subject
[Emperor Skywalker had died at the Synod. The Empire had fallen, destroyed by one of Skywalker's own adjudicators. He'd become something immeasurable. Something wholly dedicated to seeing everything the Emperor built brought to ruin. And somehow, even Jadus, whatever he had become, had met a grim fate.]
[The Empire was gone. A chapter in this world's history that will some day likely fascinate scholars...but to those who saw its rise and fall, it will be a ruined monument to hubris. It was gone and all those who seemingly lived there died with it. Even the one who brought Jadus down vanished with nary a trace.]
[Several months have passed and despite the unrest whirling about outside, the Vale is likely to be doing well given its secluded nature. So it's a little worrisome that some have called upon the Vale's caretaker. Someone appears to be approaching from the east. A man who, at one point stood tall and confident, reduced to hobbling on a gnarled staff made of lashed together wood and metal. His broad body emaciated, muscles lacking any real definition, clothes practically sloughing off of his frame. But most noticeably, his vibrant blue hair hangs matted, framing his face, mussed and long falls halfway down his back. And from beneath unkempt and shaggy bangs, green eyes seek out someone familiar.]
[He's stopped at the entrance and he scratches at the scruff on his chin and cheek, blue hair filling out sunken a pale face and slightly gaunt features. When asked to identify himself, he coughs.]
You wouldn't believe me if I told you...