<div class="floatright">(http://pre04.deviantart.net/02fe/th/pre/i/2012/244/a/b/darth_revan_by_momogoyo-d5d5cq9.jpg)</div>Name: Darth Revan<br/>Location: Skyrim Road, Execution Cages<br/>Tagging: Sylvanas, Ganon (M), Gayle (M) Shepherd (M)<br/>Doing: Meditation<br/>Warnings?: None<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Revan had been quiet for most of his time in the cages; sitting in a state of cross-legged meditation for most of the days that he'd been in the cages. He had been in the cages since the prison had loaded up the majority of the dissident forces that made up this caravan of soon-to-be-ex threats to the Empress' dynasty. The more astute might have noticed that he was in the cages even before that. In truth, Revan had been carted around for what was close to a week, pondering imponderables as he attempted to gather as much of his strength as he could muster for what would likely be a futile attempt at escape.<br/><br/>He recalled the letter in his robe, hidden snuggly into one of the inner pouches and sealed tight. It had been slipped into his pocket by...someone. A guard maybe? It was hard to tell, but surely only a guard would have been close enough to put it into his cloak. Perhaps the more pressing question was who had put so much effort into making sure a dead man would receive the letter? and perhaps more importantly: why?<br/><br/>One of his 'room' mates had spent the greater part of the last three days pacing back and forth, pouting and whispering and fuming about her fate. He had taken notice of her consistent strength; and also the fact that she hadn't needed to drink, or eat, or sleep. While she had paced, he had watched the others in the little convoy, a curiosity compelling him to try and understand how they moved, and how they acted. The first thing he noticed was the general detestability of the guards. They had been drunkards who abused their positions of power frequently; attempting to taunt and goad the menfolk, and grope and grab at the womenfolk. He had attempted to crush one of their windpipes during the first day of travel, but found himself grasping at the strings of the force; immobile and confused in the immaterial maelstrom of the force. He had known that his connection to the force was weakened recently, but to this extent? It was like his connection to the force had been cut off entirely!<br/><br/>Soon enough, he realised that it wasn't so much that he was cut off from the force, it was more that his connection to the force was being blocked. The shackles around his hands must have been the source, and that realization soon had him focusing his meditation. What at first had merely been an attempt by him to calm his emotions now changed into him attempting to focus the force around him. He had spent so much time focusing on this meditation, that he seemed to forget to eat, or sleep. Not that the guards had provided him with food, as note had been sent to someone that the Masked man was to be left alone as much as possible.<br/><br/>For two days, Revan focused on his meditative state. On the morning of the third day, he was disturbed by a general aura around the camp; a certain purpose to the guards, and a tension amongst the prisoners. He watched the scrappy young thing in one of the front cages, who had doled out broken noses to the letches that made attempts at her; he watched as the silent-droid made every attempt to remain quiet; he watched  as a loud Green man made a boisterous attempt at goading the guards; and he noticed...<br/><br/>His train of thoughts were disturbed as he felt a dull sensation slap against his thigh. Slowly and intentionally looking up, his mask moving to portray this change, the mask of Revan glanced up at the Banshee Queen, Sylvanas. He had attempted to ignore her little tryst with meaningless threats and goading. She had claimed to be important, but he could not see how such brash arrogance was useful here. The Stormlords held the keys to their shackles, and all of the cards. Even if one of them was stupid enough to fall for the attempts at infuriation: they would enter the cage, beat the woman, possibly rape her, and then kill her. If the shackles were inhibiting his connection to the force, they were probably limiting other people's skillsets as well.<br/><br/>When Sylvanas finally finished speaking, Revan was quiet for a moment; then two; and finally a third. He was intentionally dragging out the silence of the cage as she paced back and forth. Perhaps for the first time he took in her appealing, if not confusing, form. His mask hid his eyes, and his amused smirk, as she seemingly grew more and more irate at his silence. The fact she'd declared herself a queen had him thinking that she was used to being listened to. He was intentionally being quiet to set the tone of their brief future together: Revan did not bow.<br/><br/>Silently, Revan rose to his full height. Fully outstretched, the cloaked figure stood at over six feet in height. He looked down at the Banshee, feeling his bones protest at the sudden movement. He clenched his fists, feeling the metal of the shackles grind against the bonded bones of his wrists as he popped each joint of his fingers. "<strong>We do not have an opportunity to kill the Stormlords, no matter how detestable they act.</strong>" His voice was deep and full as he looked around the clearing that was set to be the site of his death.<br/><br/>Putting his hands on the metal bars of the cage, he tried to sense any of the strange 'weakness' that the woman had spoken of. He could sense nothing in particular, but he could smell the scent of burnt flesh from a corner behind the Banshee Queen. It was...curious.<br/><br/>Still, one thing that Sylvanas had said caught his attention. It was nearly time. He could feel the force around him now, filling the area with the touch of it as he tried to conjure up the powers of his blood, and his universe. He could<em>feel</em>the force surrounding him; and yet he still couldn't manipulate it. "<strong>These shackles are what keep me pinned. Remove those, and I could break us out of this cage.</strong>"<br/><br/>After a moment, he paused; and then added. "<strong>So says Revan. Of no title, no crown, and no allegiance.</strong>"