<div class="floatright">(http://i1099.photobucket.com/albums/g393/theredfear/Screenshots/Screenshot_2012-10-29_01_36_58_733242.jpg)<strong><br/>Temor (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=150938.msg6869979#msg6869979)</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong> Korriban Shuttle Landing <br/><strong>Summary:</strong> Arriving<br/><strong>Tagged: </strong> Moros, anyone<br/><hr/></div><br/>Whatever replies he might have intended for the Chiss or the other man who'd spoken were to be postponed, as his attention was now focused on his fellow Darth. Oh he had no illusions whatsoever that any of the civility being demonstrated was remotely genuine. He'd learned long ago that when dealing with Sith, every smile hides malice and betrayal. Even words of respect often hold double meanings.<br/><br/>Temor's rise to dominance in the House of Dominar had been at once similar, and completely different from Moros. One day after earning the title of Darth, Temor went to the family estate and summoned the Elders. There before them all he challenged his father. They fought for hours, and when at last he peirced his father's heart Temor saw the pride that swelled in his father's gaze before he breathed his last. Outshone only by the pride in his mother's eyes as she watched along with the other House Elders.<br/><br/>"Do not sell yourself short Moros. The crimson of your skin speaks quite proudly of the greatness in your own veins.. " The words served as a simple reminder that as Sith Pureblood, Moros had also been gifted at birth with more Force Potential than most sentients. Just as Chiss were known for having few if any force sensitives, Pureblood Sith were known for being unusually gifted with force sensitivity to the point of it being unheard of for a Pureblood to not be force sensitive.<br/><br/>But the true point of his words were to serve as a subtle jab. Moros's words indicated that he fancied himself the type who pulled himself up out of the muck. Reminding him that he too had been gifted at birth with more inherent potential than most...not all, but most...was just a nice little way to deflate that fantasy, while appearing to compliment him. Temor might not care for these silly political games and subtle insults...but that didn't mean he was incapable of playing them.<br/><br/>"Tell me Moros. The rumors are not true are they? That you intend to make your son ignite his blade against mere acolytes, fresh from crawling about the tombs? Acolytes who've not yet even earned the honor of being called Sith?  " Temor had not yet actually moved from his place. He suspected that Moros would be too proud to move his procession around Temor. To move aside for Temor in front of so many others might seem like a sign of weakness. Not to Temor of course. He considered such a thought foolish. But Sith...especially sith of comparable status...often seemed particularly self conscious about even remotely perceived as a gesture of weakness or submission to another who did not clearly outrank them.<br/><br/>An amusing thought flitted breifly across his mind. That he if stood here all day, Moros would sooner die than go around him. Temor could tie him up indefinitely, forcing Moros to continue to play at having civil and pleasant conversation to avoid the appearance of being unwantedly delayed. Okay...probably not. Surely even Moros could not be that superficial. And even if he were, Temor himself had better things to do. Still it was an amusing thought. That wasn't why he was continuing to make conversation.<br/><br/>No, he asked because perhaps Moros would let something slip about his true intentions with a bit of careful prodding and subtle goading. Temor had come here because he had indeed decided it was time to find himself an apprentice, and such an event seemed an ideal environment to find one of worth. Most Sith were too far gone. Perhaps if he could find a suitable young Acolyte he might find someone he could shape and mold into his image of the ideal Sith...someone to help him advance his own plans for the Empire. But now he was beginning to suspect Moros had something more in mind than mere sport and challenge between acolytes.