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A Harsh Lesson
- Thread starter Pureblood-Sin
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In her four years at the academy on Korriban, Kytana had been subjected to all manner of abuse. She'd been beaten, bruised, abused, ridiculed and just about anything else. She'd been treated harshly, deceptively and hatefully. She'd been lied to, she'd been manipulated and she'd been deceived. She had learned, though, and she had done many of those things in turn. At first the entire situation had felt like a whole different galaxy, but she'd soon come to realise that it wasn't. It was just as simple as any other situation she'd been in. Do what you must to survive, do what you must to thrive, and most of all, do what you must to keep them all thinking exactly what you want them to. This is what Kytana had done all her life, and when she came to the realisation that this place was exactly the same, things had become a lot easier.
Even now, as she headed toward the training room, she was subjecting herself to yet more of the same. Rumour had it that one of her teachers hadn't had a single Acolyte under his care make it to the rank of Sith. That thought sent a spike of fear shooting through her, but she quickly clamped it down, binding it to all the other errant emotions kept deep in the dark pits of her mind, away from site and out of mind.
She fiddled with the lightsaber on her hip as she walked, flicking at her robes with her other hand. They looked absolutely awful, but they fit the theme she wanted. The young student eager to learn, yet terrified of those she was to learn from. It was a typical trope found among this academy. Everyone was afraid of everyone else, especially the Acolytes. They pretended they weren't; they thought they put on a good mask, but they didn't. Their masks were full of cracks running from one end to the other, threatening to shatter the entire facade in an instant. Amateurs, one and all. They were the easy ones to deal with. It was the actual Sith that were the frightening ones. The ones that commanded real power and knew how to properly keep their mask from cracking. Those were the ones that sent the deep well of emotions inside Kytana straining against the bindings so carefully wrapped around it.
She could handle them, though. If there was one thing in this entire galaxy that Kytana knew she was good at, it was her ability to deal with people. She would enter that training room, give them everything they wanted, say all the right things, and she would get through it. She had to. There was no other choice. One day she would have a choice, but not today.
Stopping outside the door to the training room, Kytana took a moment to prepare herself. She was awful combat of any kind that wasn't verbal, and she was well aware of it. Hopefully today would help with that, but she severely doubted it. She took a deep breath, released it and pressed the door control. The door slid open and she walked in after it, long red hair trailing down her dark Acolyte's robe as she entered. "Master," she said in a tone that hinted at respect and fear, "I am ready to learn." After she spoke, she took a moment to look around. "Is the other Sith not here yet?"
@Internecion @Pureblood-Sin
Even now, as she headed toward the training room, she was subjecting herself to yet more of the same. Rumour had it that one of her teachers hadn't had a single Acolyte under his care make it to the rank of Sith. That thought sent a spike of fear shooting through her, but she quickly clamped it down, binding it to all the other errant emotions kept deep in the dark pits of her mind, away from site and out of mind.
She fiddled with the lightsaber on her hip as she walked, flicking at her robes with her other hand. They looked absolutely awful, but they fit the theme she wanted. The young student eager to learn, yet terrified of those she was to learn from. It was a typical trope found among this academy. Everyone was afraid of everyone else, especially the Acolytes. They pretended they weren't; they thought they put on a good mask, but they didn't. Their masks were full of cracks running from one end to the other, threatening to shatter the entire facade in an instant. Amateurs, one and all. They were the easy ones to deal with. It was the actual Sith that were the frightening ones. The ones that commanded real power and knew how to properly keep their mask from cracking. Those were the ones that sent the deep well of emotions inside Kytana straining against the bindings so carefully wrapped around it.
She could handle them, though. If there was one thing in this entire galaxy that Kytana knew she was good at, it was her ability to deal with people. She would enter that training room, give them everything they wanted, say all the right things, and she would get through it. She had to. There was no other choice. One day she would have a choice, but not today.
Stopping outside the door to the training room, Kytana took a moment to prepare herself. She was awful combat of any kind that wasn't verbal, and she was well aware of it. Hopefully today would help with that, but she severely doubted it. She took a deep breath, released it and pressed the door control. The door slid open and she walked in after it, long red hair trailing down her dark Acolyte's robe as she entered. "Master," she said in a tone that hinted at respect and fear, "I am ready to learn." After she spoke, she took a moment to look around. "Is the other Sith not here yet?"
@Internecion @Pureblood-Sin
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"He will come..." Began Uhrsek, his rebreather mask then mechanically covered his face; voice reverberating in a sinister manner, he continued, "when he sees fit to do so. You Acolytes should know very well that Sith are never late nor early; it is our will alone that determines when we arrive."
He then proceeded to lock his single blazing eye upon the girl, intent on her seeing both this and the patch of burnt flesh where the other used to be. He raised his eyebrow stalk, letting his gaze pierce deep before speaking. "I believe you know who I am, and the reputation I have." He turned around, his singular braid of ebony hair flapping in the gust generated by his movement. The Red Sith looked upon the statues of the Lords of the distant past. His left hand began to stroke the weapons on his belt; first the lightsaber, then the khopesh. Ideas formulated within the depths of Uhrsek's dark mind, but was this one ready to face what he was to conjure. Once more, he began to speak, his electronic tone neutral; ultimately conveying nothing of his intent.
"You know that none of the Acolytes I've taken for my apprentices have lived to tell the tale; you've risked much to come to me. My question is: Are you foolish? Are you brave? Are you desperate? Perhaps you have a death-wish that you wish to seek at a painful cost?" A cruel smile manifested within the depths of his mask; the Red Sith's cheek tendrils quivered in anticipation at what was to come. "Tell me now, why is it you have come to me, even if it could be the last hour that you breathe?"
@Sapphire Storm
He then proceeded to lock his single blazing eye upon the girl, intent on her seeing both this and the patch of burnt flesh where the other used to be. He raised his eyebrow stalk, letting his gaze pierce deep before speaking. "I believe you know who I am, and the reputation I have." He turned around, his singular braid of ebony hair flapping in the gust generated by his movement. The Red Sith looked upon the statues of the Lords of the distant past. His left hand began to stroke the weapons on his belt; first the lightsaber, then the khopesh. Ideas formulated within the depths of Uhrsek's dark mind, but was this one ready to face what he was to conjure. Once more, he began to speak, his electronic tone neutral; ultimately conveying nothing of his intent.
"You know that none of the Acolytes I've taken for my apprentices have lived to tell the tale; you've risked much to come to me. My question is: Are you foolish? Are you brave? Are you desperate? Perhaps you have a death-wish that you wish to seek at a painful cost?" A cruel smile manifested within the depths of his mask; the Red Sith's cheek tendrils quivered in anticipation at what was to come. "Tell me now, why is it you have come to me, even if it could be the last hour that you breathe?"
@Sapphire Storm
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The assassin would cross the door at the height of the training chamber - looking across the vast, high rise room. His emerald scrutiny scanning the vast monolithic statues standing, as if en guard, facing one another at a given length one after another, down the entire length of the huge training wing on the vast war torn planet of Korriban. Sister planet to it's necropolis kindred Moraband whom was alive with the wailing calls of the dead - Korriban was alive in it's own right, in the crying anguished cries of the living. Forever in bondage to the pain that training under the blade and whip of the Sith bring.
Internecion would take a huge breathe in, clad in simple dueling robes and a lightweight heavy armor chest plate. A large pauldron would adorn either shoulder, opaque gun metal grey armor pieces ending in points, resembling a metal Norse warrior. His lower body wearing simple dueling robes and garb, he kept the weight higher up to fool those practiced in usmanipulation underneath one's center of gravity to think he could be easy to vault and throw. Even a Judo specialist would be hard pressed to 'unroot' Internecion, once he had dropped into a defensive position. The Ysanna born of war took that deep breathe in, the smell bringing back what felt like an eternity; when he was a fully capable Dark Jedi, lead to Moraband by none other then the Dark Lord of the Sith Darth Vyrdesseus - though that knowledge is still unbeknownst to him, or how exactly the Sith Lord mechanized events in his life and drew him here. Needless to say, he recognized the sensation breathing in the air of this specific training chamber on Korriban brought him. A decade, over ten years proving himself to the Sith philosophy of Rule by the Strong, even if he could best their most competent warriors in lightsaber combat even years prior. No, a strong offensive and unwavering defense did not prove himself to bear the title Sith. No, true immersion, full submergence in the Dark Side - a will to embrace that dark calling as an extention of one's self, as essential as the air we breath; that is what it meant to call one's self a Sith.
He augmented his sense of hearing upon entering the room, proving the impossible feat of hearing his two allies, the Red Sith jack of all trades, and the young Acolyte. Hearing the conversation, the Acolyte's curiosity as to his own where abouts, and his peer's knowledge - of her potential inevitable fate. No helmet or visage present, the cowl of his shroud drawn back - the face of Erebos Kaan would be present for all to see. Sin black hair, tied in a bun akin to a duelist to keep out of one's face - when worn long his hair would cross his waste. Striking emerald eyes burning out from the rather handsome yet worn face of a thirty six year old Ysanna male. The green in his eyes creating a sort of volcanic soil ridden aspect; tinged with veins of yellow and orange from extended use of the Dark Side of the Force - this was the start of an injurious, virulent degradation in the seasoned warrior's health. Having joined the arcane Sith cabal at a late age, he still had many lives to take, many adversaries to slay before the withering effects took hold - but those piercing, deadening eyes gave a sight to the insidious process starting.
Internecion would cross the higher platform overlooking the training hall - ashen black Sith cloak billowing behind him in the soft breeze his forward momentum would create. Hitting the endless flight of stairs, while keeping that burning earthen gaze on the young Acolyte - listening. As their conversation paused, he would cut his use of the Force - his dark mass of a presence writhing and surging in the Living Force; giving off a signature that even the young Acolyte may discern. One of power and malice, looming over her. Descending the flight he would cross the training hall - crossing leather-clad hands behind his back, he would stop in a military fashion within audible distance from the duo.
He would arrive and speak after the malevolent Red Sith's final statement, adding his own as to show respect to his peer - and knowingly, verbally cut off anything the Acolyte may begin to utter.
"My whereabouts are of no concern to you, Acolyte. " Strange enough he is commenting on a portion of their conversation that there was no way he could have heard, he hadn't even been standing there for that part a moment ago. "As you can see you have but one concern now - your survival. How certain can you be, that you haven't signed your own death warrant? My Red Sith ally here ... have you ever paused to contemplate, why no Acolyte of his has ever lived long enough to ascend to the fold of Sith?" He had been curious of this since his announcement to take a glance at the new tide of Acolytes on Korriban, by his High Priestess Nisara. She had ordered him to inspect the capabilities of those in need of training, thus he would unquestioningly comply. So, he chose to see where her fear threshold would lie.
Internecion would take a huge breathe in, clad in simple dueling robes and a lightweight heavy armor chest plate. A large pauldron would adorn either shoulder, opaque gun metal grey armor pieces ending in points, resembling a metal Norse warrior. His lower body wearing simple dueling robes and garb, he kept the weight higher up to fool those practiced in usmanipulation underneath one's center of gravity to think he could be easy to vault and throw. Even a Judo specialist would be hard pressed to 'unroot' Internecion, once he had dropped into a defensive position. The Ysanna born of war took that deep breathe in, the smell bringing back what felt like an eternity; when he was a fully capable Dark Jedi, lead to Moraband by none other then the Dark Lord of the Sith Darth Vyrdesseus - though that knowledge is still unbeknownst to him, or how exactly the Sith Lord mechanized events in his life and drew him here. Needless to say, he recognized the sensation breathing in the air of this specific training chamber on Korriban brought him. A decade, over ten years proving himself to the Sith philosophy of Rule by the Strong, even if he could best their most competent warriors in lightsaber combat even years prior. No, a strong offensive and unwavering defense did not prove himself to bear the title Sith. No, true immersion, full submergence in the Dark Side - a will to embrace that dark calling as an extention of one's self, as essential as the air we breath; that is what it meant to call one's self a Sith.
He augmented his sense of hearing upon entering the room, proving the impossible feat of hearing his two allies, the Red Sith jack of all trades, and the young Acolyte. Hearing the conversation, the Acolyte's curiosity as to his own where abouts, and his peer's knowledge - of her potential inevitable fate. No helmet or visage present, the cowl of his shroud drawn back - the face of Erebos Kaan would be present for all to see. Sin black hair, tied in a bun akin to a duelist to keep out of one's face - when worn long his hair would cross his waste. Striking emerald eyes burning out from the rather handsome yet worn face of a thirty six year old Ysanna male. The green in his eyes creating a sort of volcanic soil ridden aspect; tinged with veins of yellow and orange from extended use of the Dark Side of the Force - this was the start of an injurious, virulent degradation in the seasoned warrior's health. Having joined the arcane Sith cabal at a late age, he still had many lives to take, many adversaries to slay before the withering effects took hold - but those piercing, deadening eyes gave a sight to the insidious process starting.
Internecion would cross the higher platform overlooking the training hall - ashen black Sith cloak billowing behind him in the soft breeze his forward momentum would create. Hitting the endless flight of stairs, while keeping that burning earthen gaze on the young Acolyte - listening. As their conversation paused, he would cut his use of the Force - his dark mass of a presence writhing and surging in the Living Force; giving off a signature that even the young Acolyte may discern. One of power and malice, looming over her. Descending the flight he would cross the training hall - crossing leather-clad hands behind his back, he would stop in a military fashion within audible distance from the duo.
He would arrive and speak after the malevolent Red Sith's final statement, adding his own as to show respect to his peer - and knowingly, verbally cut off anything the Acolyte may begin to utter.
"My whereabouts are of no concern to you, Acolyte. " Strange enough he is commenting on a portion of their conversation that there was no way he could have heard, he hadn't even been standing there for that part a moment ago. "As you can see you have but one concern now - your survival. How certain can you be, that you haven't signed your own death warrant? My Red Sith ally here ... have you ever paused to contemplate, why no Acolyte of his has ever lived long enough to ascend to the fold of Sith?" He had been curious of this since his announcement to take a glance at the new tide of Acolytes on Korriban, by his High Priestess Nisara. She had ordered him to inspect the capabilities of those in need of training, thus he would unquestioningly comply. So, he chose to see where her fear threshold would lie.
Last edited:
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Kytana stood there in silence, her long red hair cascading down her body, contrasting with her dark robes and standing out even more than it usually did because of it. Fear. Confidence. Anger. Fury. There were so many different ways she could handle the situation, but which one would be better for the ones she had to deal with? They were weak, she could say. Only the strong survive among the Sith, she could continue, but what would be the point in that? Surely he had heard it from each of his apprentices in turn, each one claiming they were stronger than the one before, and each one perishing with just as much finality as the last. There were so many potential paths she could take with her answer to the Sith's question.
They were interrupted before she could answer, as something dark and forboding pushed in at her mind. It was welcome there, feeling almost as if it belonged. It mimicked her own inner mind, but in a far more advanced and stable state. She looked up as she felt it, catching sight of the second teacher that was attending her. That was where it was emanating from. That tall, imposing figure with armour covering its upper body. That was where the feeling of darkness and forboding was emanating from. She could feel it now, stronger than ever now that she knew from where it originated. She pulled herself away from it instinctively, shielding her mind from it in the same way she shielded herself from the dark, bound things deep within herself. She would not let it control her, like those things so desperately straining to leave the dark depths so often tried to do.
She kept her eyes on the newcomer, this Internecion, as he approached. She listened as he spoke, mind racing as she figured out how she wanted to handle the situation. The method of answering the question posed to her by the Ysanna came naturally, and for once she let it continue its natural path instead of holding it back and binding it tightly, carefully controlling every aspect of it. She still shaped what she said as carefully as ever, though. "My certainty stands before me," she said in a voice that projected confidence. "Nothing says potential and strength like two Sith coming to do the job one could accomplish. Most acolytes are weak. Most struggle to attract the attention of even one Sith, and yet here I am attracting the attention of two at once. You," she looked pointedly at Internecion, "and you," she turned her gaze on the red Sith, "are my certainty. You have betrayed your confidence in my abilities simply by showing me attention. It is the rare acolyte that draws the attention of a full Sith, let alone two at once."
They were interrupted before she could answer, as something dark and forboding pushed in at her mind. It was welcome there, feeling almost as if it belonged. It mimicked her own inner mind, but in a far more advanced and stable state. She looked up as she felt it, catching sight of the second teacher that was attending her. That was where it was emanating from. That tall, imposing figure with armour covering its upper body. That was where the feeling of darkness and forboding was emanating from. She could feel it now, stronger than ever now that she knew from where it originated. She pulled herself away from it instinctively, shielding her mind from it in the same way she shielded herself from the dark, bound things deep within herself. She would not let it control her, like those things so desperately straining to leave the dark depths so often tried to do.
She kept her eyes on the newcomer, this Internecion, as he approached. She listened as he spoke, mind racing as she figured out how she wanted to handle the situation. The method of answering the question posed to her by the Ysanna came naturally, and for once she let it continue its natural path instead of holding it back and binding it tightly, carefully controlling every aspect of it. She still shaped what she said as carefully as ever, though. "My certainty stands before me," she said in a voice that projected confidence. "Nothing says potential and strength like two Sith coming to do the job one could accomplish. Most acolytes are weak. Most struggle to attract the attention of even one Sith, and yet here I am attracting the attention of two at once. You," she looked pointedly at Internecion, "and you," she turned her gaze on the red Sith, "are my certainty. You have betrayed your confidence in my abilities simply by showing me attention. It is the rare acolyte that draws the attention of a full Sith, let alone two at once."
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Uhrsek listened as his fellow teacher spoke; his arrival did not come as a surprise to the Red Sith, and his words served to enforce the point he himself had made. Most Acolytes would be wetting themselves, yet she maintained her composure in the face of two senior Sith; so far so good. In turn, the girl before him would proceed to respond to both their questions; no doubt trying to further conceal any smidgen of fear she felt within herself. Charming as it was, Uhrsek had his own response, and it may not be what she had in mind...or liked to hear.
"Whilst I admire your bravado my dear, have you not considered other answers?" He swiftly turned around, drawing his ancestral khopesh in a slash aimed at her left cheek. Yet he stopped it, only nicking the skin, drawing only a few beads of blood; his half-mask retracted back into his armour, revealing a cruel grin. "Perhaps we have brought you here simply because we've grown tired of your presence among the Sith Order? Perhaps we have brought you here as part of a wager: to see how long it takes for you to beg for mercy before we finish with you. Perhaps I have brought you here to sate my grim curiosity on whether or not you will survive our attentions?"
His sword-arm twisted the khopesh slightly, intent on dealing pain, intent on seeing her react; whether she cowed in fear, gave in to her anger or maintained her composure, reserving her anger and hatred for another time.
"We know your record girl, just as you know my reputation; four years as an Acolyte and your skills in combat remain... disappointing. Tell us both why you think yourself so worthy of our attentions when we could be here for something detrimental to yourself?"
@Sapphire Storm
@Internecion
"Whilst I admire your bravado my dear, have you not considered other answers?" He swiftly turned around, drawing his ancestral khopesh in a slash aimed at her left cheek. Yet he stopped it, only nicking the skin, drawing only a few beads of blood; his half-mask retracted back into his armour, revealing a cruel grin. "Perhaps we have brought you here simply because we've grown tired of your presence among the Sith Order? Perhaps we have brought you here as part of a wager: to see how long it takes for you to beg for mercy before we finish with you. Perhaps I have brought you here to sate my grim curiosity on whether or not you will survive our attentions?"
His sword-arm twisted the khopesh slightly, intent on dealing pain, intent on seeing her react; whether she cowed in fear, gave in to her anger or maintained her composure, reserving her anger and hatred for another time.
"We know your record girl, just as you know my reputation; four years as an Acolyte and your skills in combat remain... disappointing. Tell us both why you think yourself so worthy of our attentions when we could be here for something detrimental to yourself?"
@Sapphire Storm
@Internecion
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The Acolyte's certainty amused him. He would keep his hands clasped tightly behind his back, as the Red Sith began her physical ... bonding session, he would move to encircle them both. A volcanic earthen scrutiny skimming his allies' movements as he would lash his khopesh across her left cheek; emerald eyes narrowing as he would intentionally waver the motion to a merely the mundane. The Ysanna literally twitching his neck to the right, entire head following suit as his eyes would follow the minuscule beads of blood all the way to the training room floor. Thinking idly in his own skull. ~What a waste of fresh.. ~ Stopping the thought in mid stream, returning his scrutiny to the Red Sith as he would prepare for another lashing.
His motive, alas, was to size the Red Sith up, just as much as the young one searching for tutelage. Finding her bravado sickening, so charismatic in her assuredness. The mirth, or any entertainment suddenly expunged from his being. Having half a mind to reach out with the Force and rip at her kneecaps, yet he would refrain for the moment out of sight for his allies' game; to see where such fear threshold lay that he sought a moment ago. Encircling them both, the black cloak swathed around his form, billowing behind him.
"Remain disapointing...? In combat. " He would repeat the words over. "I find that unacceptable, even for the ... weakest link to a grand barbed chain, seeking to coil itself around the Galactic Core. A chain is only as powerful as it's weakest link ... in this case you, Kytana. " Grinning a wide and sadistic smile. "There is no innate weakness in combat for any member of the Sith Brotherhood. Even it's weakest member. " Using the psychological attempt of inception, to increase a feeling of worthlessness in her through repeating the phrase again, and again. "You will not be helpless, it is not permitted. Pray you die by the hands of this tyrannical Red Sith. " Pausing a moment to allow the words to descend below the surface; surely his brethren heard the compliment and it had registered. "If he does not wish to soil his hands with your blood, then I shall personally take you to the very literal gauntlet of Ziost in the Esstran sector - and you will be dropped from my starship onto the crucible of strife, where your combat will fail you in your lack of preparing yourself; and you will be ripped apart by a mob. There is one third option. You will increase your combative abilities, your analytical and instinctual prowess for battle. As fast as Lord Tabashk requires. "
OOC: @Sapphire Storm
His motive, alas, was to size the Red Sith up, just as much as the young one searching for tutelage. Finding her bravado sickening, so charismatic in her assuredness. The mirth, or any entertainment suddenly expunged from his being. Having half a mind to reach out with the Force and rip at her kneecaps, yet he would refrain for the moment out of sight for his allies' game; to see where such fear threshold lay that he sought a moment ago. Encircling them both, the black cloak swathed around his form, billowing behind him.
"Remain disapointing...? In combat. " He would repeat the words over. "I find that unacceptable, even for the ... weakest link to a grand barbed chain, seeking to coil itself around the Galactic Core. A chain is only as powerful as it's weakest link ... in this case you, Kytana. " Grinning a wide and sadistic smile. "There is no innate weakness in combat for any member of the Sith Brotherhood. Even it's weakest member. " Using the psychological attempt of inception, to increase a feeling of worthlessness in her through repeating the phrase again, and again. "You will not be helpless, it is not permitted. Pray you die by the hands of this tyrannical Red Sith. " Pausing a moment to allow the words to descend below the surface; surely his brethren heard the compliment and it had registered. "If he does not wish to soil his hands with your blood, then I shall personally take you to the very literal gauntlet of Ziost in the Esstran sector - and you will be dropped from my starship onto the crucible of strife, where your combat will fail you in your lack of preparing yourself; and you will be ripped apart by a mob. There is one third option. You will increase your combative abilities, your analytical and instinctual prowess for battle. As fast as Lord Tabashk requires. "
OOC: @Sapphire Storm
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((For future reference, I'd appreciate it if the actions you performed didn't take the choice out of my character's hands. I'm more than happy to run with things, but I don't like it when the choice to run with them is taken from my hands.))
Kytana stepped back as the Red Sith went for his weapon. She moved out of reach of him with but a few simple steps, unwilling to let him mar her face so easily. Or so she thought. It was not far enough, though, and despite her attempt to stop it, still she felt the sting of his blade. She looked down at the oddly shaped weapon as she spoke. "For a Sith, you are very narrow-minded. I thought that kind of narrow-mindedness was the realm of the Jedi. Combat is but one of many ways of overcoming conflict." She was terrified, but she refused to let it show. She was very versed in the feeling of terror, for it had been a constant companion for her over her four years as an acolyte, and for a very long period of time before that. She had also become remarkably good at hiding it, but that was a skill she possessed from long, long ago.
She did the same here as she did in every situation. By this point it had become a natural response to her terror. Without even thinking, she smoothed out the emotions she was projecting. Her face retained its calm, confident look, even gaining a slight look of disdain as she looked down at the blade the Red Sith brandished. Inside, however, what had been almost uncontrolled terror bubbling just beneath the surface became suddenly, suspiciously still. She shackled that feeling she didn't want to feel, locking it away where it wouldn't cause any more damage. As always, though, she responded to terror and lack of surety with the complete opposite.
The urge to argue more was one she couldn't resist, despite knowing that in this situation it would get her nowhere. "If you were here to get rid of me," she said as she looked back up at the one eye of the Red Sith, "then you would not have brought this second Sith along. You simply would have done it yourself. Implying that you need two full Sith to dispose of one troublesome acolyte - an acolyte you have judged as wanting - simply implies weakness on your part." It was a stupid thing to say, but it matched the mask of confidence and surety she had donned upon entering the room, and so she said it. She would deal with the consequences as they came. She was, after all, used to absorbing the punishment of those more powerful than her. As far as she was concerned, she had survived worse. There was nothing they could do that hadn't already been done. And besides, physical punishment was the lesser of two evils.
Kytana stepped back as the Red Sith went for his weapon. She moved out of reach of him with but a few simple steps, unwilling to let him mar her face so easily. Or so she thought. It was not far enough, though, and despite her attempt to stop it, still she felt the sting of his blade. She looked down at the oddly shaped weapon as she spoke. "For a Sith, you are very narrow-minded. I thought that kind of narrow-mindedness was the realm of the Jedi. Combat is but one of many ways of overcoming conflict." She was terrified, but she refused to let it show. She was very versed in the feeling of terror, for it had been a constant companion for her over her four years as an acolyte, and for a very long period of time before that. She had also become remarkably good at hiding it, but that was a skill she possessed from long, long ago.
She did the same here as she did in every situation. By this point it had become a natural response to her terror. Without even thinking, she smoothed out the emotions she was projecting. Her face retained its calm, confident look, even gaining a slight look of disdain as she looked down at the blade the Red Sith brandished. Inside, however, what had been almost uncontrolled terror bubbling just beneath the surface became suddenly, suspiciously still. She shackled that feeling she didn't want to feel, locking it away where it wouldn't cause any more damage. As always, though, she responded to terror and lack of surety with the complete opposite.
The urge to argue more was one she couldn't resist, despite knowing that in this situation it would get her nowhere. "If you were here to get rid of me," she said as she looked back up at the one eye of the Red Sith, "then you would not have brought this second Sith along. You simply would have done it yourself. Implying that you need two full Sith to dispose of one troublesome acolyte - an acolyte you have judged as wanting - simply implies weakness on your part." It was a stupid thing to say, but it matched the mask of confidence and surety she had donned upon entering the room, and so she said it. She would deal with the consequences as they came. She was, after all, used to absorbing the punishment of those more powerful than her. As far as she was concerned, she had survived worse. There was nothing they could do that hadn't already been done. And besides, physical punishment was the lesser of two evils.
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Still she kept her facade, even though inside, she was probably on the verge of uncontrollable terror; she was well on her way to mastering and channeling what is inside, now she truly needed to begin mastering the blade before her insides came to be spilled out onto the the floor by a rival. Uhrsek smiled again, except this time there was no cruelty in those concealed lips; instead, it something that came close to pride. Yes, he was impressed that the Acolyte had stood her ground, yet now she had more work to deal with. The Sith then proceeded to speak whilst sheathing his blade.
"Good, good...a Sith without control is no better than a wild beast or a lowly urchin; but alas, you are still a worm in my eyes...but a worm with the potential to cocoon into something greater. It is the art of lightsaber combat that proves most problematic with you."
The Red Sith then turned towards his attention towards the Ysanna next to him.
"Does my esteemed colleague have any ideas and how we should approach this?"
@Sapphire Storm @Internecion
"Good, good...a Sith without control is no better than a wild beast or a lowly urchin; but alas, you are still a worm in my eyes...but a worm with the potential to cocoon into something greater. It is the art of lightsaber combat that proves most problematic with you."
The Red Sith then turned towards his attention towards the Ysanna next to him.
"Does my esteemed colleague have any ideas and how we should approach this?"
@Sapphire Storm @Internecion
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His response to this would be a sharp snap-hiss of his lightsaber, just a single blade of a rather lengthened handle born from the fold of his black cloak swathed around his form, concealing his previous movement. The bloodshine red illumination pouring out over the area, this would be his Red Sith ally's only warning to take a step back and avoid the voracious arc of crimson energy flashing past his position as well.
The red blade would slash across the area infront of him, a fluid turn of his body occurring from a wide clockwise pivot of his footing. The arc of the slice passing a solid meter width infront of him in sync with the turn of his heels, the rotation of his hips putting the power of the rest of his body behind the movement. Should the Red Sith be advised and step back a mere foot (as the blade would barely graze him should he not take the cue) the attack would be designed for the direction of where the Acolyte stood. A wide slash, coming in diagonally - at her left hip, and should the weapon connect (hopefully it will not as it would be extremely damaging to said victim) it would slash her clean in twain, exiting the body at her opposite right shoulder; the slash thus flowing out diagonally across her midsection, meant to sizzle through her like butter and reduce her to a smoking pile of gore and singed black skin. Should - the slash connect.
Needless to say, the young Acolyte would need to learn the basics of evasion very, very rapidly. There were no training sabers here. Only the flash of death in the form of red light - should the student not be quick to think on her feet. The first lesson would be survival.
The red blade would slash across the area infront of him, a fluid turn of his body occurring from a wide clockwise pivot of his footing. The arc of the slice passing a solid meter width infront of him in sync with the turn of his heels, the rotation of his hips putting the power of the rest of his body behind the movement. Should the Red Sith be advised and step back a mere foot (as the blade would barely graze him should he not take the cue) the attack would be designed for the direction of where the Acolyte stood. A wide slash, coming in diagonally - at her left hip, and should the weapon connect (hopefully it will not as it would be extremely damaging to said victim) it would slash her clean in twain, exiting the body at her opposite right shoulder; the slash thus flowing out diagonally across her midsection, meant to sizzle through her like butter and reduce her to a smoking pile of gore and singed black skin. Should - the slash connect.
Needless to say, the young Acolyte would need to learn the basics of evasion very, very rapidly. There were no training sabers here. Only the flash of death in the form of red light - should the student not be quick to think on her feet. The first lesson would be survival.
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Kytana, in her four years as an acolyte, had learned never to trust Sith. More so than anyone else in this galaxy, they were devious, dangerous and unpredictable. She rarely trusted anyone to begin with, but with Sith that feeling was increased tenfold. Thus, when the snap-hiss of the lightsaber was heard, her immediate action was a roll to the side and away from its source. It wasn't the most graceful or practiced roll, but it sufficed enough for her to get out of the way of the red blade. Her own blade came out a moment later, igniting with that all too familiar sound as the crimson of her weapon added to the glow of her teacher-turned-opponent's.
She was not a skilled combatant by any stretch of the imagination. Quite the opposite, in fact. She did know the basics, though, for she had been able to pick up those at the very least. She fell into a defensive stance, both hands on the hilt of her lightsaber, feet kept shoulder-width apart. She never stopped moving, even for a moment. She kept up constant movement with her feet, never allowing that to be compromised. She'd been beaten multiple times simply because she'd let herself become flat-footed, and as a result her footwork had been slow and sloppy. Keeping up constant movement helped that, and also helped with the randomness that was required of this most basic of lightsaber forms, not that she was skilled enough with it to be anything but predictable.
Kytana kept herself in this same defensive stance, always ensuring that both Sith in the room were within her sight, even if just her peripheral vision. She didn't trust either of them for a second. She waited for Internecion to engage her, as she knew he would, and kept herself light on her feet and ready to move in whichever direction she needed to, watching him intently the entire time, looking for any signs of what he might do. She didn't believe she would actually be able to defeat him, and was well aware that if he wanted to kill her he would likely do it without anything but pitifully pathetic resistance on her part, but she would try. That was what she was here for, after all. To learn and to improve.
@Pureblood-Sin @Internecion
She was not a skilled combatant by any stretch of the imagination. Quite the opposite, in fact. She did know the basics, though, for she had been able to pick up those at the very least. She fell into a defensive stance, both hands on the hilt of her lightsaber, feet kept shoulder-width apart. She never stopped moving, even for a moment. She kept up constant movement with her feet, never allowing that to be compromised. She'd been beaten multiple times simply because she'd let herself become flat-footed, and as a result her footwork had been slow and sloppy. Keeping up constant movement helped that, and also helped with the randomness that was required of this most basic of lightsaber forms, not that she was skilled enough with it to be anything but predictable.
Kytana kept herself in this same defensive stance, always ensuring that both Sith in the room were within her sight, even if just her peripheral vision. She didn't trust either of them for a second. She waited for Internecion to engage her, as she knew he would, and kept herself light on her feet and ready to move in whichever direction she needed to, watching him intently the entire time, looking for any signs of what he might do. She didn't believe she would actually be able to defeat him, and was well aware that if he wanted to kill her he would likely do it without anything but pitifully pathetic resistance on her part, but she would try. That was what she was here for, after all. To learn and to improve.
@Pureblood-Sin @Internecion
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Whilst it wasn't entirely what he had in mind, Uhrsek welcomed this aspect of the lesson; few things teach an individual quite like a life or death situation. His own defensive instincts prompted his still-grasped khopesh to be pulled from its sheathe into the path of Internecion's lightsaber. It would give the Acolyte a bit more time to mount her defense against the coming storm and him the time to determine whether or not his fellow Sith had planned to actually try and kill him or was simply indifferent as to who he was striking. Regardless, the Red Sith took the opportunity to back away and begin the analysis of both combatants. He was impressed that the girl had a strong survival instinct, but it didn't take a genius in the arts of lightsaber combat to know that her defense may be somewhat flimsy. Yet he remained silent, continuing to watch the event unfold; examining these two as they fought and keeping vigil for when his...intervention, may be required.
@Internecion @Sapphire Storm
@Internecion @Sapphire Storm
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Internecion would follow Kytana as he would evade - moving him further away from his Red Sith ally; his own footwork ever fluid, taking him after Kytana at a measured stance. Not rushing after her, not moving rapidly into melee range - his next action was one of deceit and distraction. He hoped the Acolyte's attention was unwavering, as his next choice of action would be a lesson all it's own. A mere step outside melee range in his fluid dance after her, he would release his left hand from his longer then average lightsaber handle - flicking a hand gesture upward in the direction of her upper mass and face - channeling out a telekinetic strike. Not a full fledged Force push, as the power of the intangible phenomena wouldn't hold the force to send her flying back in any way. It could be more defined as a Force strike, holding the power behind it to snap cartilage and break bone (more specifically, break the bone of the target of the Force strike) which would be the bridge of her nose - that being the target of the smaller Force strike. If it connected, it's intent of course would be to break the bridge of her nose, the manifestation coming with the power of a hurled brick, but in the very least his intention is to (again if it hits) jerk the tip of her nose, with the minor amount of pressure it would take to gain such results, in a manner that will hopefully cause blood to flow out of her nostrils - his intent, as a distraction.
The very moment after the smaller Force strike would be unleashed, his final movement would be snapping the very tip of his bloodshine red blade up at her hip - more to test her defense amid her reaction to the telekinetic attack. The end of his blade coming up from it's lower position - slashing up in a diagonal arc to merely graze her hip if it connected, before retracted back to a diagonal en guard position - if it hit, as she may very well have the composure to deflect and counter attack, afterall.
@Sapphire Storm
The very moment after the smaller Force strike would be unleashed, his final movement would be snapping the very tip of his bloodshine red blade up at her hip - more to test her defense amid her reaction to the telekinetic attack. The end of his blade coming up from it's lower position - slashing up in a diagonal arc to merely graze her hip if it connected, before retracted back to a diagonal en guard position - if it hit, as she may very well have the composure to deflect and counter attack, afterall.
@Sapphire Storm
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If there was one thing Kytana had in abundance, if was survival instincts. She may be awful at melee combat and she may be awful at proper usage of the Force, but her survival instincts weren't something that was ever in question. She was an observant person, and she always had been. This, combined with her natural will to survive, made for an immediate reaction to Internecion's actions. His intent was betrayed the very moment his left hand began to leave his lightsaber hilt, and in response, almost without realising what she was doing, the acolyte summoned a barrier of the Force around herself briefly, deflecting the kinetic energy with the Force. She felt the minor drain on her energy that it resulted in, but it wouldn't be enough of a drain to have any noticeable negative effects. It was only very slight.
Kytana let the barrier go the moment she felt that the attack was over, ceasing any further drain on her energy, even with as minuscule as that drain was. Her attention was immediately forced to something else as her instructor lashed out at her hip. Unfortunately for her, his reach was far superior to hers. One of the side effects of being so small was a reduction of her effective reach in combat, and as Internecion struck out at her, this was made abundantly clear. The very edge of his reach, which is what he was making use of here, was well outside the edge of her reach.
Kytana's reaction to his attack was quick, even if it was sloppily done. She struck downward at his crimson blade with a two-handed strike, using just enough force to knock it off course and make it miss her. The strike left her arms positioned so that her left elbow, which was the arm that held the lower part of her hilt, was angled backward, resulting in her lightsaber's hilt being held beside her torso just above her waist. She immediately followed this up with a forward step and a thrust, showing her opponent her right side as she turned herself side on, pushing her arms forward from their drawn back position, angling her blade at his right shoulder as she brought herself within reach of him. It was a very basic parry and counter manoeuvre that even she could use effectively, making use of the body zones taught by the Shii-Cho form.
She didn't know if it would inflict any damage were it to connect, but it would serve the purpose of jolting his weapon arm, and hopefully happened soon enough after knocking his weapon aside that he wouldn't have time to draw his weapon back into a guard position like he was intending to.
@Pureblood-Sin @Internecion
Kytana let the barrier go the moment she felt that the attack was over, ceasing any further drain on her energy, even with as minuscule as that drain was. Her attention was immediately forced to something else as her instructor lashed out at her hip. Unfortunately for her, his reach was far superior to hers. One of the side effects of being so small was a reduction of her effective reach in combat, and as Internecion struck out at her, this was made abundantly clear. The very edge of his reach, which is what he was making use of here, was well outside the edge of her reach.
Kytana's reaction to his attack was quick, even if it was sloppily done. She struck downward at his crimson blade with a two-handed strike, using just enough force to knock it off course and make it miss her. The strike left her arms positioned so that her left elbow, which was the arm that held the lower part of her hilt, was angled backward, resulting in her lightsaber's hilt being held beside her torso just above her waist. She immediately followed this up with a forward step and a thrust, showing her opponent her right side as she turned herself side on, pushing her arms forward from their drawn back position, angling her blade at his right shoulder as she brought herself within reach of him. It was a very basic parry and counter manoeuvre that even she could use effectively, making use of the body zones taught by the Shii-Cho form.
She didn't know if it would inflict any damage were it to connect, but it would serve the purpose of jolting his weapon arm, and hopefully happened soon enough after knocking his weapon aside that he wouldn't have time to draw his weapon back into a guard position like he was intending to.
@Pureblood-Sin @Internecion