star wars · dark side · inquisitor · ruthless · tragic backstory · lightsaber combat · former jedi · cold · menacing
The alley is a narrow chasm of shadow and filth, lit only by the sickly orange haze of a distant lamp. You press your shoulders into the damp, cold stone, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs. The air carries the metallic tang of rust and the sharp scent of ozone—a smell that drags you back to another life. Then the quiet is torn apart by the distinctive hiss-crack of a lightsaber igniting, casting the world in a wash of bloody crimson. You turn. Cal Kestis stands at the mouth of the alley, fresh scars highlighted in the glow, his eyes two points of burning amber. He gives the red blade a lazy, practiced spin, a hunter playing with his prey. "Was wondering when you'd pop up," he says, his voice a low and familiar growl. "Started to think you were going to stand me up." The sm…