Open Korriban Reach Heaven Through Violence

[Qû’jara Jinyeva]

Spoiler: OOC

Open challenge to one Sith. Spectators are free to join but not to interfere if possible. [OOC thread]

———


REACH HEAVEN THROUGH VIOLENCE

———​

There was a dueling chamber at a Korriban temple complex steeped in holy history.

Thousands of years of blood had been spilled there, so that the entire space was absurdly heavy in the dark side, as if the spirits of the dead were an anchor. It was a place where legends had been made and broken, warriors forged in the crucible of battle or their brittle bones cracked and cast aside for the roaming dogs of Korriban to gnaw into nothing.

It was not the first time Qû’jara Jinyeva had been there.

Duels to the death were typically reserved for occasions where one had been gravely offended, in such a way that demanded the most ancient form of retribution. Qû had no such quarrel with her Sith brethren, and it was not mortal combat she sought. These moods befell the colossal Nautolan at times, some function of instinct and inspiration, for to Qû’jara Jinyeva battle was the greatest way she had found to express herself. Perhaps the only way.

The dueling chamber was a thirty-seven by thirty-seven meter room, these measurements chosen for the sacred quality of prime numbers. A warm red light suffused the room from glowing hieroglyphics, every square centimeter of surface on every wall engraved with the lore and mythology of the Sith, so that the history of the dark side itself surrounded them. Above the room multiple balconies emerged so that an audience could gather to watch particularly vicious skirmishes.

There was a single entrance to the chamber through a long pyramidal corridor, itself heavily engraved with the tales of the Sith that came before in intricate patterns that could describe microcircuitry or the Moraband creation myth depending on one's perspective.

The center of the dueling chamber was a circle of sand, eleven meters in circumference. Qû’jara was at one extreme, an electroblade lying in the sand beside her, another situated perfectly symmetrically on the other side of the sand circle should her opponent choose to use it as their weapon. Often Qû’jara's opponents preferred their fists, and she broke them with hers.

She sat in perfect repose, radiating her presence in the Force. There could be no clearer invitation.

 

[Drane T'keen]

It was not every day that Drane visited the temple, whether on Korriban or elsewhere, or even in private meditation within his personal chamber. Such temples were a place to escape as much as create; to learn as much as teach.

Yet this was one Sith with another temple, not of darkness but of light. Sunlight. But it was no less red. Thyrsian first, Sith second, and for a warrior like him both paths intertwined, formed a road forward for his future, complementing one another like a blaster for a soldier.

The sons and daughters of the red sun believed in battle and war, in strength and skill, not too terribly differently from the Sith Order, the latter is who this Thyrsian visited today.

In a black leather jacket, pants and boots, unarmored, with lightsabers on his person, but straight away he spotted the electroblade closer to him, another one on the other end of the arena, and a figure sitting quietly.

“I take it this one is for me?”

The man asked politely, presuming nothing over this other person, studying her.

“Drane T’keen,” he introduced. “And who are you?”

Despite his cordiality and formality, he was no stranger to where he was, to the light that bled around him like a crystal to fill a Sith’s fist.

Drane had wielded his blade ever since he was a boy, as a Thyrsian, and as a man, as a Sith, and this chamber all but whispered his name both dead and alive as shadows to the sunlight.

@Jake

 

[Qû’jara Jinyeva]

Qû’jara felt Drane's approach before she saw him, rising as he entered the chamber to survey her opponent. She had already removed her boots and outer robes, which lay neatly folded behind her against the wall, bare feet more maneuverable in the sandpit. Her lidless eyes took in the sight of the Thyrsian, tall by human standards but shorter than herself, making note of his bearing. He possessed the clear gait of a warrior.

Qû's head ticked imperceptibly to the side, head tendrils twitching as many possibilities flickered through her many-lobed cephalopod mind, spiraling out from every detail the alien warrior revealed about himself: his cordial tone, the relaxed posture and lightsabers at his hip suggestive of a man comfortable with a blade. The curious absence of the smell of mammalian bloodlust.

She wondered how long it would take for that calm demeanor to turn to fear. The Nautolan let the Force channel itself through her like a conduit, expanding her senses, slowing her perception, steeling herself. She felt the gentle warmth of the hieroglyphic scriptures in the walls around them, the mammalian heartbeat of Drane T'keen, the reagents flowing in her own blood to slow certain enzymes, keeping her amphibious flesh cool and humid despite the oppressive Korriban heat.

Feeling everything, or at least its shadow...

"It could be," Qû’jara replied in a deep, oceanic voice, her Basic clear but watery. She reached out in the Force and the practice blade beside her rose into her hand, thrumming to life with an electric buzz. "I am named Qû’jara Jinyeva. If you have come here with doubts about my purpose, you should not step into the sand."

@Die Shize

 

[Feifi Candorus]

Study. Watch. Adapt. Consume.​

The concordian had been busy, returning after a.. Personal visit to verona, feifi had been doing good work, her stealth tactics were getting exceptional, for a acolyte at least, and her ability to strike from surprise, backstab, lie, cheat, steal, were almost as high as her self imposed training regimen, after all, if she was going to collect a forge masters head, she was going to need to be better than she was now. And studying from the champions, was a method of hers to learn from these individuals, grow in her own skill, apply, repeat.

She would remain silent, waiting to see how the champions would interact.

@Jake @Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

Fear. To be in this chamber, this building, with no emotion, was to mean you weren’t even Sith to begin with.

A Sith had to feel the darkness, the anger, the terror; the hate and rage and pain. Otherwise what was the point of it? That the Sith were emotionless pits of emptiness was a contradiction of their very existence.

Fear was an element that Drane T’keen had since been accustomed with. He had experienced it intimately, as a gift and a curse, and sought the same from his enemies. From his victims. Yet, in this present sand pit, there were no enemies or victims. Not really.

Truly, the voices that lingered in these halls, that roamed floor to ceiling as ghosts so noiseless, may drive any being insane if they were not ready to hear, to listen, to see and witness as Drane T’keen did with all elevated senses.

As those who came before him. As the woman who was positioned before him, presented even, amid a fighting pit fit for warriors like her and him.

Not one to stand on ceremony despite his conventionality, the Thyrsian removed his boots.

“Qû’jara Jinyeva,” he repeated as he got into position, not caring much about any audience. This was practice for him as much as entertainment, but it remained to be seen what would develop.

Boots set aside, Drane stepped into the pit of sand that could become a ring of fire any moment at that.

“Here I am.”

Electroblade levitated into his right hand, gaze glued to its blade as if there were four fighters in this pit, not two.

“Care to make the first move?”

@Jake (@Qû’jara Jinyeva)
@Hastur (@Feifi Candorus)

 

[Qû’jara Jinyeva]

[theme music]

Qû’jara had already expanded her awareness well beyond herself and through the temple corridors for an acolyte to sneak beneath her detection, but she approved of such voyeurism. Though Qû couldn't read Feifi's thoughts, she would agree with them: watch, adapt, consume. Witness the strong and confront weakness to crush it under the light of scrutiny,

Besides, her senses promised the skirmish had potential. She could tell from every movement that Drane T'keen was an expertly trained duelist, though he had already presented one weakness: he was very talkative.

Qû’jara waited in perfect stillness, an open conduit to the Force, almost meditative in her stance, her multichambered heart beating once, twice as the Thyrsian removed his boots and prepared himself. The only sound beside his noble tenor as he repeated her name was the thrum of the electroblade and the far-off whistle of air through the corridors of the pyramid complex, like distant voices.

She would find entertainment a profoundly mammalian emotion to extract from battle. Qû’jara Jinyeva knew the true names of the feelings which unlocked the secrets of war. Dzwol shâsotkun. There is only passion.

"Here—"

Drane T'keen would never finish his question, though it would be quickly answered. Qû’jara's battle-hunger exploded through the Force as soon as he entered the sand circle, radiating across the entire temple for any other Sith to feel the sudden supernova of bloodlust as the Nautolan sprang from utter immobility into fluid movement, like a predator lunging at prey after waiting patiently for it to wander between hungry jaws. To feel the full weight of her passion.

Qû’jara closed half the distance between them in a single elegant leap [~5m] as the Thyrsian opened his mouth, the Force accelerating her into a blur of motion, never leaving the ground more than a few centimeters.

Right arm holding the electroblade, she simply swept her free arm upward in a deceptively gentle gesture, unleashing a part of the energy that suffused her in a concussive surge that hurled a wave of sand forward and into Drane T'keen's face to obscure his vision as he dared ask his opponent to take the initiative. She did not release enough energy to throw the man from his feet but the wave of force might unbalance him if he were caught unaware.

She landed in a perfect Makashi dueling stance, presenting her body sideways towards the Thyrsian, the foot of her sword hand in front. As her arm naturally came down from its sweeping motion, Qû’jara brought her elbow behind her, closing her hand into a fist and thrusting forward, releasing a further concussive force like a punch that would blow through the sand at about face level.

The Nautolan warrior returned to a neutral stance as she prepared for Drane's reaction, readying herself for a counterattack or to intensify her assault depending on the Thyrsian's response.

@Die Shize (@Drane T'keen)
@Hastur (@Feifi Candorus)

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar, or Arcanos as the Sith knew him, often frequented the newly opened Sith academy on Korriban. A lot of students were transferred over from Umbara and he was appointing new teachers to drive a curriculum that combined both Sith history from the Stygian Caldera along with principles of the Sith Order.

He got wind of the fight taking place in the dueling chambers of the academy that went beyond just simple practice. The Sith Lord strode over to the little arena, finding himself in one of the balconies that oversaw the action. Anyone else that was watching stiffened and stopped goofing about, the de factor Dark Lord and the King of the very planet itself now amidst them.

For his part, Azar made no fanfare of his arrival, standing by the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in ornate, white robes, his hair in intricate braids, and his ears lined with golden earrings. He presented as royalty and carried himself with the bearing of a titan despite being small in stature. His expression was difficult to read and he would reserve any judgment until the conclusion of the duel.

@Jake @Die Shize @Hastur

 

[Drane T'keen]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Passion. Strength. Victory over your opponents. Combat and combatants. If there was no entertainment to be relished from such conflict then why be a Sith to begin with?

This one might have liked to know the name of his opponent, for his own selfish Thyrsian customs if no less than Sith, but this other one was having none of it. Oh well. Drane thought in that instant after his own introduction. Come hell.

She came and, if he had to admit it, Drane would dare say hers was the best greeting he could ever hope from a fellow opponent. He couldn’t help but grin after being interrupted by none other than action.

As sand came for him, Drane as much stepped to the side as he deflected the barrage with his free left hand, his right hand cradling the hilt of an electroblade.

The Nautolan having landed in a stance after her sand attack, Drane had meanwhile wasted no moment taking some flashy leap as he approached. Instead, he stuck to his own two feet, maintaining a stance fit for offense and defense—but only action mattered in the end.

As the Nautolan situated herself into a Makashi stance, the Thyrsian beckoned himself forward toward her, right hand gripping his weapon but left hand empty as it retaliated against the sand coming his way.

A whirlwind of dust and debris; particles as tiny as the pinprick of the pupil, cast away, only to be deflected and redirected at an arena's end in less than a second as the Thyrsian advanced toward his Nautolan opponent with no prejudice.

Enough of tricks, in Drane's opinion anyway, as he sought to close the distance and swing his sword in his right hand from her left shoulder to her right hip to carve across flesh and bone and leave her with a scream.

@Jake (@Qû’jara Jinyeva)

 

[Karai Hekk-iv-Adas]

Karai arrived at the beginning of the fight. He was very interesting as a budding Warrior himself, and so hoped to learn a few tricks or tips by both observation and taking notes on his EZPhone. As a native to the planet and the Korriban Academy, it didn't take long to find out about it and find his way there to claim a good spot, where he could see the best action and learn the most. His keen eyes was in awe at some of the display and at being in the presence of his king again, hopefully for more than a brief glimpse like last time.

From what he knew and research, Drane T'keen was apparently a very accomplished Champion, as was his opponent. And yet for now Karai favoured Drane, their style was similar so he found more in common. He admired the swordwork as the duel begun in earnest, and briefly peered into the crowd to see if there were any familiar faces. He saw a Mandalorian who looked part machine, she must have been in a rough experience he noted. Hopefully he could avoid the same fate. He also saw some potentially he could work with perhaps. He soon faced the centre again and continued his taking of notes and observation. Beneath the surface the duel excited and enthralled him. As a Warrior he also found solace in battle so here he felt right at home, and a strange comfort in seeing others like him. That were equally observing. Although he was still cautious, they were Sith. And he knew the reputation of such events. Most ended violently even in the stands.

Karai however wasn't looking for trouble.

Instead he looked at Drane, hoping to learn about him by the way he fought. About both. For a fight revealed so much about people, even up to the last moment. He allowed a small smile as he watched.

@Sreeya @Die Shize @Hastur @Jake

 

[Qû’jara Jinyeva]

[theme music]

Beyond the other Sith that had begun to gather to watch their duel, it was impossible for the King of Korriban to go undetected no matter how subtle his entrance, but not even Darth Arcanos himself could break Qû’jara's concentration. Her opening ploy succeeded in giving her space and baiting her opponent into an attack. The few breaths that it took Drane to evade the sand and close the distance between them were ample time to transition, flexibility of stance being a core tenet of Form III, Soresu.

The Nautolan was several inches taller than the Thyrsian and her reach therefore proportionally greater. This wasn't an overwhelming advantage, but she had been hovering at the edge of her own range to begin with, so that Qû simply chose the ideal moment when Drane stepped in and committed to his strike from shoulder to hip to slide backwards out of reach along a perfect line, following the principles of Makashi footwork as if executing the movements from a textbook.

She moved like a specter across the sand, leaving no trace, preternaturally quickened by the Force, embodying at once the economy of movement and the elegance of the Ways of Mynock and Ysalamiri.

Weaving her own electroblade in with the most gentle and subtle movement from her neutral stance as Drane's continued its downward arc, Qû’jara performed a classic Makashi riposte, angling the Thyrsian's sword further downward with her own blade to force him into an uncomfortable position with his sword arm pulled awkwardly across his body after the diagonal strike, throwing off his balance and and exposing his right flank.

As she did so, Qû’jara also took a single fluid step forward with her left foot, pivoting towards Drane's hypothetically exposed right side, and again gathered concussive energy into her free left hand, rotating her hip to generate force and deliver a Teräs Käsi rising rancor liver shot to the right side of Drane's ribcage under the sword arm that would be pulled across his body after her riposte.

@Die Shize

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

When Cheriss had heard that there was going to be a duel, she figured that it would be a good opportunity to watch and take some notes on her datapad. Learning from a holocron was one thing, but watching the theory come to life in the real world was just as important.

It seemed that others had thought the same. When the champion arrived at the balconies above, she saw a few other spectators there. One looked young, probably an acolyte. Nearby was Darth Arcanos himself, his arms crossed as he observed. He didn’t look like he wanted to be bothered, so Cheriss didn’t. The last one she recognized— Karai, the acolyte who’d been her companion in Kas’im’s tomb.

She went to the balcony, stopping in front of it a few feet away from the Sith.

“It looks like we’re of the same mind,” she said with a slight smile, noting the EZPhone in Karai’s hand. “Good to see you again.” With that, she would finally look down to see who the duelists were. They had just gotten started, and Cheriss saw that one of them was a Nautolan woman who was as quick on her feet as she was with her blade. The other… was that Drane? Her brow went up at that, but she didn’t say anything out loud. This would be an interesting fight for sure

@Jake @Die Shize @Hastur @Sreeya @Akheron

 

[Caerllion of Cyfnos]

Since its opening, Caerllion had become a frequent visitor to the Korriban Academy. While not a professor, he was constantly being invited to make seminars about the use of genetics in association to the Dark Side. A good number of Acolytes participated in these events, all interested in delving into these experiments. Perhaps he was watching the birth of a new generation of geneticists.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mind visiting the Academy anymore. The fact that he was teaching something that he loved made the Annfyn ignore the fact that Acolytes could be annoying.

Caerllion had finished a workshop about the use of polymerase chain reaction to make copies of a specific DNA region in vitro when he discovered that a combat exhibition was being made between two Champions. He knew the one called Drane, having worked with him sometime ago. Since he had nothing better to do, the Annfyn decided to watch it.

Still dressed in the same formal clothes that he had worn during the workshop, Caerllion arrived in one of the balconies to watch the fight in the arena below. To his surprise, the Master saw that Azar was watching it. Immediately, his body felt the familiar warm from being in the Pureblood presence.

He completely ignored the other Sith present, for him they were dust in Azar’s presence, and approached the Pureblood. Caerllion stopped next to the red-skinned man and bowed. “Good evening, my king.” he said, admiring his perfection for a brief moment, before turning to look at the fight starting below. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you there. How are you doing?”

@Jake @Die Shize @Akheron @Sicadorito @Hastur @Sreeya

 

[Feifi Candorus]

The concordian didn't pay much mind to those who had arrived, save for Darth Arcanos, who received a gentle bow of respect and recognition from the acaloyte, before the girl would return to her focusing, makashi.. a duelist form, she was familiar with it, but had not brought it to life just yet, focusing on ataru and don moch methods, but this form of study is what truly made her come alive, the spider learnt best from studying others live..

Of course feifi's helmet betrayed no hint of emotion, the T-shaped visor she once bore now twisted into more of a V-shape, the girls clawed metal arm wrapped in thought, as she would absorb every ounce of the duel, not only for her own personal gain, but potential insurance, even in training, one could get an idea of how one thought, and that knowledge could be quite handy, if the need arose..

Knowledge.. that was truly the power here, to know when to strike, to know what ones capabilities are, to know when someone was weak, and to know when to offer the carrot or the stick..

@LouJoVi @Sreeya @Akheron @Sicadorito @Die Shize

 

[Karai Hekk-iv-Adas]

Karai was continuing to observe, when he felt and heard a familiar presence enter the booth with him. He allowed a small smile as Cheriss entered, remembering the escapade fondly that they had undertaken together in the tomb and what they did after. He was still looking for some Kyber crystals as they needed. He wondered how she was doing on that front, hopefully better luck than he was having.

He chuckled a little at the comment as he gave a brief bow and spoke. "It appears so." he said "It is nice to see you again also, Champion Cheriss. Surprised to see you a bit, it doesn't seem your usual scene. How have you been since we last spoke? I haven't had much luck with the Kyber. I was hoping you might have had better. Although I will say I recently got hold of some droids."

While he waited for an answer, he continued to observe, he found both opponents attacks interesting as each made a move to try and counter the other and end the opposition. He looked up to see Master Cynfos also now present, a man to be admired also for his skill with alchemical beasts he heard. Both were people he hoped to meet and it seemed a perfect opportunity, perhaps he could convince Cheriss to also say hello.

"I'm tempted to go up there and say hello to the king. We haven't met yet, and I admire him greatly. Especially for all his done for my people and the Sith. He is a legendary figure I looked up to while on the street, his tale inspired me. I'm sort of a fan. Master Cynfos is equally admirable. What to join me? I think we can learn a lot from those two just by talking."

@Die Shize @Hastur @Sreeya @LouJoVi @Jake @Sicadorito

 

[Trael Osso-Drast]

Trael was at the Korriban academy for some basic research, making sure he was up to date with everything pyromancy related. Especially with the discovery of a new galaxy and supposed other Sith. Sadly for Trael his research and testing of new ways to utilize pyromancy didn’t go quite as planned.

Trael was walking through the halls in a familiar bright pink outfit. He was internally kicking himself when he realized it was the only clothing that survived his failed experiment. Luckily the Sith Master had garnered enough of a reputation that most Sith simply looked at him. He passed by a doorway to the sounds of a battle, stepping through curiously.

As he walked onto the balcony he recognized two figures, Azar and Caer. Trael walked over to stand on the side of Azar opposite Caer. He reached the edge of the balcony and took off the sweater part of his outfit, using it to wipe the sweat from his face. Laying it over the railing of the balcony before leaning on it so it provided some cushioning. He gazed down into the arena momentarily before it diverted to Azar and Caer, “Master Cynfos, Lord Arcanos. It seems I got here just on time.” He said with a smile before looking back at the fighting.

@Sreeya @LouJoVi

 

[Cerberus]

This was the first day Cerberus ever felt the dry air of Korriban. It's sun's rays kissed warmth onto parts of his face. Skin exposed because he'd decided to leave his outfits helmet behind in order to get a better look at this place. Though of course, he had to pull his hood up to cover some of his pale white skin.

He wasn't certain about his decision to visit the planet, considering the half human, half zeltron wasn't the most social person and preferred the simplicity of working non stop. Non stop work allowed him to pretend like he didn't have to be social, but his curiosity overroad that.

He'd also been mulling over the idea of asking someone here about the tome he recovered in a recent heist. These thoughts caused him wander until he saw a gathering of Sith near a fight. The gathering didn't seem all too unusual until his crimson eyes settled for a handful of heartbeats on @Darth Arcanos; a royal.

Noticing this, Ceberus decided to stay near a large statue further back from the crowd to watch the fight along with the other Sith. He couldn't let the trip go to total waste by not even stopping.

 

[Drane T'keen]

The Arena
Drrane T'keen vs. Qû’jara Jinyeva
​

With or without the sand to cradle his bare feet, Drane had not exploded toward his opponent with the vehemence of Djem So but with the elegance of Makashi. Footwork being key to maneuvering, the balance of his position wasn’t broken, yet the balance of his swing had certainly been interrupted.

With his right blade pinned to his left behind his opponent’s own, it was apparent that moving forward was not an option at the moment due to a most brilliant riposte. Evidently his opponent was no mere mynock with or without the Way of the Mynock.

So instead of moving forward Drane moved backward. The instant the blades of both Sith connected with the Nautolan’s advancement, the Thyrsian stepped back diagonally to his right. This was done as much to create a bit of distance given his predicament as reclaim his blade away from his assailant’s.

As he stepped, Drane shifted his blade to his right, again to remove it from his opponent’s but also to bring it into the path of her left hand’s attack.

However, the Nautolan proved to be gifted with more than sword and with a martial art that the Thyrsian admittedly wasn’t, and the strike of her fist was further amplified by having already drawn on the Force for speed.

That Force wrapped around Drane’s body the next instant as the fist connected with his ribcage. Perhaps his only saving grace was initiating his step backward when she slid opposite, forcing her toward him to cover the distance even with the Force the next instant in order for her fist to hit him.

Stepping backward, Drane suddenly went flying backward and landed on his back. Unless his opponent was rushing him or would let him get up, he wouldn't straight away. Instead, amid a couple cracked ribs, the Thyrsian Sith glimpsed the countenance of a Human Sith in the distance.

"...Cheriss..?

He whispered on his back in the sand. She wasn't alone though. Amid the audience, Drane glanced at Caerllion, AKA Mayhem, and Darth Arcanos himself. Well well...

"Well..."

@Jake (@Qû’jara Jinyeva)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Cheriss turned to look at Karai when he replied. Was he surprised to see her at a duel? Either way, she hadn’t been looking for the kyber crystals so much as practicing some of the other forms. Taking notes on this duel was meant to be a supplement. She wasn’t surprised that Karai had been involved elsewhere, and having droids would be a good addition to his cause. She wondered just how many he had. She also noticed that he referred to her by rank again, just like when they’d met for the first time. Maybe he was just being formal in front of his king.

“I’ve been well,” Cheriss responded with a brief nod. “I haven’t had much luck with the kyber either. I’m glad to hear you’ve had success with the droids, though.” She smiled a bit at that. Karai proved himself to be quite capable, and she was glad to have him as an ally. As for saying hello to the king, she wasn’t against the idea.

“Of course. I don’t see why not.” Cheriss didn’t know much about the king, but she did recognize that he held great influence over the Sith. Glancing over at him now as more Sith began to arrive, he didn’t seem so opposed to talking as she’d initially assumed. Getting acquainted couldn’t do any harm… and notes could wait. She recognized Master Cyfnos beside him too. She looked down the balcony for her gaze to linger on Drane one more time. He had been knocked back, and it was then that their eyes met. His lips looked like he’d mouthed her name.

Cheriss, on the other hand, didn’t say a word, not out loud nor in his mind. Instead she tilted her head down toward him and gave him the slightest of frowns. He would know that she expected him to get back up. She knew him to be a better duelist than that.

But that was enough and she turned her focus to Karai instead.

“So,” she said to the acolyte as she started toward the group, “who would you wager on if you were going to put in a bet?” Even if he was knocked down for now, she still had faith in the Thyrsian.

@Akheron @LouJoVi @Sreeya @Die Shize

 

[Qû’jara Jinyeva]

A blur of motion, the Thyrsian taking a step back that saved him from a week in a bacta tank while they grew him a new liver, then Qû’jara Jinyeva's bloodlust spiking tangibly in the Force through the atmosphere of the dueling chamber. She felt the brutal crunch of bone beneath her fist, the impact rolling through her own body as Drane was hurled away towards the edge of the sand circle.

To cut the body of a mighty enemy, feel their bones break, their will crumble. Could there be any greater ecstasy?

Qû's did not echo but screamed through the Force, so that every Sith gathered would feel the surge of incredible bloodlust, her insane and holy battle-hunger, even Drane himself, even the acolytes, shattering the veil of the dueling arena's Force aura like her fist shattered Drane's ribs.

One could be no closer to the Force than now, in the adrenaline rush of war, threading the line between life and death. Light and dark.

As Drane hit the ground Qû’jara was already returning to ready stance, her electroblade held in the Makashi salute.

"You know the words, warrior, just as I. Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun," Qû’jara said in the Original Speech, clearly audible from anywhere in the chamber, words weighing heavily upon the Force itself.

As Drane caught his breath, Qû stalked cautiously forward, still a predator animal, lingering several steps out of range, ready to lunge or defend herself [~4m]. Well aware that prey was most dangerous when wounded.

She held her free fist in the air, symbol of her indomitable conviction, her unconquerable belief, of all she knew of the true secrets of battle, reaching towards heaven through violence.

Before their eyes, Darth Arcanos and the other masters, before the acolytes and warriors, Qû’jara seized the dark side, as strongly as she ever had in her entire life.

Only a few seconds had passed, time enough for Drane to mutter to himself, but dilated for his Nautolan opponent whose senses were still accelerated, as much a conduit for the Force as a warrior of her strength in the prime of battle possibly could be. She pronounced her next words like a sentence to death.

"Wonoksh Qyâsik nun."

She brought the Force down like a cudgel on top of Drane with as much power as she could muster, aiming to brutally crush him into the sand while the Thyrsian was disoriented from her previous blow. Not kill him, but certainly put an unpleasant end to his day unless he reacted swiftly.

@Die Shize (@Drane T'keen)
@Sicadorito @Sreeya @Dread @Javier esschoolbus
@Akheron @Hastur @LouJoVi

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar was genuinely impressed by the fight. He didn’t know either combatant, but they both displayed skill in their respective methods of fighting. They were a blur of motions, reminding the Sith Lord that talent and tenacity could still coexist within the Sith Order. He almost smiled at the display, his attention drawn away briefly when Caerllion (@LouJoVi ) arrived. Azar’s gaze briefly flicked over his choice of attire, the Annfyn appearing especially appealing. The style fit him perfectly and the Sith Lord’s gaze lingered far longer than needed, “Is it a surprise?” He asked with a faint smirk, his tone an easy drawl, “I did open this academy after all,” Azar said, “You look like a marvelous king yourself.”

His gaze panned back over the fight, “I do not know these Champions, but they are performing admirably,” He said, “So much so that I can’t quite place an obvious winner.”

Azar’s eyes kept scanning over the crowds, gaze locking briefly with a man (@Dread)standing in a far corner that was looking his way. He looked into the crimson eyes. Another pretty man. Was Azar always cursed to be surrounded by pretty men? This one probably brought drama too. Azar looked away when the Champion drifted back into the shadows.

The Sith Lord watched as the Thyrsian took a solid hit. The nautolan was aggressive, giving no quarter as she channeled the Force. Azar felt that pulse in energy, the surge of the dark side almost intoxicating for someone like him who was born into it. It was like an exquisite high and it made his golden eyes glint with bloodlust. He had to temper himself, the siren call of the dark side always irresistible. Especially while he was dealing with the affliction of his mind. Those thin, black veins just barely began to surface on his skin, but he reeled it back before they became pronounced.

A moment later, Trael (@Javier esschoolbus )appeared and Azar did a double take. He stared with wide eyes, the other man wearing that same ridiculous get-up as the very first day they noticed one another. The sight sent a pang through his chest, digging up both fond memories and pain. Azar gave a curt nod, “So you did…” He responded quietly.

He made a point of looking back at the fight, catching Trael casually removing his shirt in his peripheral. The dress code was always more lax around Korriban, especially with the local attire. Nevertheless, he had to keep reminding himself not to look at his former lover standing shirtless directly next to him. How a visit to observe a fight turned swiftly into a sexual tension crisis was beyond him, but he would keep his dignified and proper presence.