Hermitcraft/Empires SMP/Third Life/Afterlife Randomness

Ren's Backstory

Q: Where is that "shadow capital" that Ren originates from, and how did he get to Hermitcraft?

Kingdomcraft does not exist in this story.

So the first part of this does take place in the Star Wars universe bc I felt like it and also Season 7

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...

Chatter in multiple languages and the sound of clinking silverware and whirring machinery filled the bar. The hazy air smelled of cigarette smoke. Sand gathered in the cracks between floorboards and in the corners of the room, to the point that nobody bothered to clean it up.

Gossip was exchanged here. Deals were made. Rivalries were started and settled.

In the back of the room sat a hooded figure. A cloth mask covered his nose and mouth, but those who were got close enough and lived to tell of it saw his piercing blue eyes and longish brown hair. He sat alone. Nobody dared approach him, because they knew who he was and feared him. They avoided his icy gaze like the plague, because for all they knew, he was hired to come after them.

The Shadow Hound. The most feared assassin in the galaxy.

Nobody knew his name or origin. Nobody wanted to.

He appeared to be waiting for someone. And that someone came, striding into the tavern as if he had no better place to be.

He made a beeline for the Shadow Hound after taking a quick glance around. He, too, wore a hooded cloak, the shadows beneath which were so deep that they hid his face. Beneath the cloak, a metal cylinder was strapped to his belt.

A lightsaber.

The crowd murmured to each other, some in fear, some in admiration. This man was either a Jedi, Sith, or highly skilled thief. He was nobody to be trifled with.

The new figure, be it thief or otherwise, sat down across from the Hound. The people nearest them strained to hear what he said.

"You are the Shadow Hound?"

The assassin nodded slowly. "Is this really a good place? We could be heard by anyone."

"It doesn't matter. They can't do anything."

The Shadow Hound fiddled with his cup, almost nervously. "Okay, then. You said you had a job for me?"

"I do," the stranger said, smiling even though nobody could see it. "A certain Jedi who I have had a rivalry with since apprenticeship."

The eavesdroppers nearly stopped listening. This man was a Sith.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why can't you just kill him yourself? You're obviously a Sith. You should be able to-"

"Are you questioning my offer?" The Sith growled. "I am paying you for this. Take it or leave it."

"I am not questioning your offer," the Shadow Hound replied calmly. "How much are you paying me?"

The Sith glanced around, causing the people watching them to looked away. Then he slid a slip of paper toward the assassin.

The Shadow Hound looked at it, and his eyes widened. He looked back up.

"Do we have a deal?" The Sith drawled.

"I feel that if I refuse, you'll show me how skilled you are with a lightsaber," the Hound replied, raising an eyebrow. "But deal."

They shook on it.

"How can I contact you when the job is done?" the Shadow Hound asked.

"You'll find me," the Sith promised. "Call me the Renperor."