Ask A Spar Of Few Words

[Sol Kenuk]

The ambience of Korriban had changed. The invasion of the Killiks seemed to have left it's scars, and now the temple itself was guarded more heavily than Sol had ever seen it. Upon every corner, there were eyes, a grim face, and the scars of ruin that the Insectoids had carved across sand and stone. Nonetheless, the academy could not afford to rest idly, buried beneath the sand and forgotten. With the threat repelled, services were quick to resume, and the Kel'dor found himself upon the dry world once again, gazing upon the crimson banners that draped ancient walls. Despite the darkness of this place, the heated bite of the poisoned force within the air, Sol can't help but feel as if this world were akin to his home. He had trained here, learned here. He had bled here. The inhospitable landscape was the cherry on top, really. Korriban was as close to Dorin as the Empire had for now.

Eventually, he makes way into one of the many sparring arenas that the academy maintained, and for good reason. Sol could not afford to allow his abilities to fade and his skills to slip, not while the Killiks hunted the stars for new prey. And, even when the bugs were gone, that still left the Jedi to deal with. There was no sense in complacency, and Sol could not rely on his books for everything. So, there he was, standing within the arena in a simple black outfit that insured he wouldn't get overheated too quickly. Sol was here for one reason, and one reason only. He wanted to fight, to brush up on his dueling skills to insure that he'd be ready when the next real battle sought him out. Luckily for the Kel'dor, he had found as sparring partner that seemed equally as willing to train. The exercise would do him some good, and perhaps both Sith would learn something new.

@lizziie

 

[Imani Din]

It'd been a while since Imani had sparred with someone. The last time had probably been back when she was at Korriban, which was a tad ironic seeing how her days at the academy had been brought up quite a few times the last time she and Sol had spoken. She'd accepted his request for a dueling partner most because of that. The last thing the tiefling wanted to do was fall out of practice.

"Are we doing weapons, no weapons, or whatever?" Imani asked as she stretched her arm behind her head and up toward the sky. There was a brief look of strain on her face, and then her body relaxed as she dropped her arm back down. Like the rest of her family, Imani had grown up Matukai and was essentially a master of the fighting style. That being said, she'd always gravitated toward Force sorcery, even if she'd never out right pursued it.

On the woman's hip, rather than a lightsaber, was the hilt of her Wan-shen.

tag: @Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

Sol peers upon the woman with a small, friendly smile tugging upon his masked maw, the crinkle of his cheeks evidence enough to the polite expression. Her question slipped into the dusty air, and the Kel'dor thought about it for merely a moment.

"I suppose we'd might as well practice with weapons." His lightsaber could be switched to a lower level of power if she preferred, to avoid any lethal accidents. That Wan-shen of Imani's, though, well he's not so sure about that. It wasn't necessarily because it was dangerous, no, Sol thought the added aspect of danger would make the spar a bit more realistic. He's simply never seen one in action before, wasn't entirely certain what to expect. He supposed it would be a learning experience.

"I've never seen a Wan-shen in action before." Sol admits simply, gesturing toward the weapon at her hip. "So learning to defend against it would be most beneficial." The length of the pole-arm was a cause for concern, but all the better that the Sith learns how to manage it in a real fight. Like the Tiefling, Sol preferred to rely on the force, rather than weaponry. Perhaps in this case, that would serve to benefit him far more than close-ranged combat.

For now, Sol doesn't engage the blade of his lightsaber. The hilt of the weapon is brought into the palm of his hand, a measure of security if it was needed. Then, with a conniving smirk behind his fanged mask, the Sith speaks, "Ready when you are."

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[Imani Din]

Imani nodded in understanding when Sol spoke, then removed the weapon from her belt. She threw her arm down to the side, causing the weapon to expand and click into place. Once the weapon was firmly locked into place, Imani began advancing toward Sol.

The polearm remained in her left hand while she focused the Force in her right hand, still approaching Sol.

Just as she was about to enter striking range, Imani used that gathered Force to send out a short but strong burst of the Force, intent on throwing Sol off balance. Her right hand snapped to the polearm, assuming the leading hand position while the other slid down, and she thrust forward while using her leading leg to steady her strike. The strike would occur immediately after the Force burst, and she hoped to take advantage of him while he recovered from his stumble.

If he moved backward at all, she would move forward to keep the distance the same, keeping her leading foot in front to maintain her balance. If the strike hit, the leather-wrapped tip of the blade would prevent any actual damage.

tag: @Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

With everything settled with a nod, Sol prepares for the fight that would come, all but beckoning for Imani's first strike with a rare, conniving smile. His eyes glisten like firelight as he observes the woman's every move, both physically, and through the mind's eye of the force itself. The polearm shifts within her grip, a curious weapon to the Kel'dor, but nonetheless, his focus is resolute. As she moves, the hilt of his saber ignited within his right hand, and the settings promptly lowered to a far less lethal state.

There.

He can sense the force gathering around one hand, the push that was expelled outward as if to weaken his stance and cause him to stumble. Sol steps back alongside the forceful momentum as he too draws upon the force to resist her own, fortifying the position of his feet in order to resist the motions and insure that he is not sent staggering. Simultaneously, his vision notes the shifted grip on her weapon and the Kel'dor bravely prepares to meet it head-on.

All the while, the familiar hum of his lightsaber washes the pair in a glow of vibrant crimson, as the plasma blade connects it's side to that of the Wan-shen, knocking the point away from it's intended target so that Sol would not end up prodded by it's leather wrapped blade. He keeps his lightsaber pressed against the polearm, the shriek of the connected weapons grating his ears.

Rather than move backwards and away as his instincts screamed at him to do, the long length of the polearm seems to present an opportunity that the Kel'dor might have been overly confident to try and exploit. Nonetheless, he steps closer, aims to drag his lightsaber down the polearm's length until it connects with Imani's leading right hand. Under normal circumstances, such an attack would have devastating consequences to the limb. With the saber on it's lowest setting though, she would only experience minor burns if the hit succeeded.

At the same time, Sol's left hand had not been idle. The Kel'dor draws hatred from his thoughts, fuels the gathering wave of dark energy with a chilling sensation of rage. Electricity crackles between his talons as he aims a short-lived blast of Sith Lightning toward Imani's abdomen. It wouldn't be fatal if it hit, Sol had no interest in feeding the stream past it's initial connection, but undoubtedly it would be an agonizing sensation to fight against.

@lizziie