Their Origins In Murder

While rewriting our character histories, Kazarelth and I have decided to chronicle our origins in a run-on, taking place in both modern 31 ABY and our shared past from as far back as 24 ABY.

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31 ABY
The Sword's Sheath, Itanna Belt

Sitting at the controls of his personal holoprojector unit, Dralin Talismarr spoke to the scale representation of his twin brother.

"I heard that you were seeing action in Eden, Kaz. Planning to stop by your old home?"

Smirking at his seconds-older brother, the scholarly Kazarelth shook his head. "I know the prevailing attitude amongst the Gladians. I'm sure an ex-Gladian like myself wouldn't see much of a welcome there."

The Omwati brothers stared for a moment, unsure of what to say next. They had been separated for a three years, the longest amount of time the twins had gone without seeing each other. Reclusive even as children, they had been as close as any pair of siblings could be. Kazarelth's sudden disappearance- what Dralin would later learn was his recruitment into Tarentum- had been a major blow the the older twin, having lost his older twin only a couple of years before.

Kazarelth was sorely tempted though, as he looked at his fraternal twin. Their bond, though recently repaired, was still frayed. When Kazarelth had brought Dralin to Gladius three years ago there was still some unfamiliarity between them. They had grown apart. The younger twin a full Knight of Tarentum – a scholar of the Watchers and a withered twig when compared to the child full of life, while Dralin was a neophyte young in the ways of theory and yet wiser in the application of the Force.

‘I am sure we could work something out. Perhaps you could come down to Eden…?’ Kazarelth’s Force-aided voice was conveyed through to Dralin. His torn voice box could never produce the variety of sounds he could now. He took the opportunity to replay a much younger Kazarelth’s voice – with an imploring tone.
Dralin smiled but said nothing. His mind was propelled backwards.

There was always laughter. Even when summer was gone, the angelic laughter of the twins and their sister filled their great mansion with joy.
That was a long time ago. Too long before – his hands did not know the taste of blood then.

He laughed as he tried to push away those memories. There was work to be done – work for a Rollmaster, not for a Death Dealer or a killer. With a word of farewell he turned off the holo-comm. Port and stood up, surveying his room. Perhaps those auditors would like to have a look at the souvenirs he collected. Too bad for them.