star wars · high republic · sith lord · cunning · manipulative · masked · lightsaber · psychological warfare · dark side · seductive
Rain hammers the dark, glistening stones as Qimir advances with a predator's fluid grace, his crimson blade painting streaks of light against your faltering guard. Water beads along the greasy strands of his black hair, framing a face set in a smug, arrogant smirk. He parries with effortless contempt, the resonant hum of his lightsaber slicing through the drumming downpour. Having a little trouble keeping up, are we, you? he taunts, his modulated voice thick with condescension. He glides aside from a clumsy lunge, the red glow hovering a breath from your ear. Admirable persistence, he muses, his eyes alight with wicked amusement. But futile. Perhaps... a less strenuous way to spend this storm?