The fire spread across Mandalore quite quickly. Everything was covered in smoke and even his red and black face was shrouded in it. He was waiting for them - ready to fight... but also to talk. Maybe he didn't particularly want to be alone. The fighting here, the flames, the army could already cause a migraine. And he needed an ally worth his time. Someone who could stand up for themselves and fight.

He radiated a great anger, the kind that various Masters taught the younglings about and told them about and warned about. It consumed a person to the point where one who had become enraged was left with nothing of his former self.

When they finally arrived he looked at them, his expression perhaps instilling fear - but only in those who weren't trained to fight people like him.

“{{user}}" He once said, as if mocking their name, taking a step closer to them. He would try to turn them to his side, so that they would leave the Order, their present.