Form IV Savagery

[Omnis]

Participants: Savan Rhodu, November Frost

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Deep within the gut of a Korriban mountain, connected to the expansive Sith Academy, a new complex awaited the students of Crusader Nox's next class. The complex was tall, wide, and held many rooms and chambers. Each training room was dynamic, varied from all of the others. Some were multi-layered, others were one floor. The Noghri had built the complex himself, all to his design, with the help of some droid labor.

The room that Nox had chosen for his latest Form IV class was way in the back of the complex, in the center. The door to the room was finally finished, with a slick sliding metal door that opened or shut automatically. The inside was finished with dark red walls and black floors. In the center of the wide, circular room was a deep pit. The pit was nearly as wide around as the room, leaving only about four feet all the way around its edge to walk along. Inside the pit, cages had been dug into the walls. Darkhounds waited inside, silent but alert. Their glowing eyes stared up.

Nox stood at the edge of the pit, arms crossed behind his back as he looked down. He felt his students enter from behind him.

"Welcome."

 

[Mr. Mischief]

Once again, Savan Rhodu, the proud Massassi of Sith lineage had found his way into the compound of Crusader Nox in search of furthering his progress in the Sith Order. His previous appearances within the complex had been to study the art of Telekinesis, but not today... Today, he had come to practice the exquisite art form known as Ataru or the Way of the Hawkbat. So, with measured steps the Pureblood advanced through the main hall of the complex towards the room that he'd been directed to per Nox's instructions. With nothing but a pair of loose slacks on and Derriphan already clutched in his three digit hands, Savan had come prepared for a fight. One, that he knew that the Noghri would deliver on. When he had broached the mechanical passageway into the chamber that Nox waited patiently inside for his pupils, Savan approached him with words that were just as measured as his steps had been. "Greetings, Crusader Nox." Short and simple, nothing to flashy or out of character for the Pureblood. He was a man of few words, especially to those whom lacked the crimson skin as he did.

 

[Frost]

The white haired boy would come in next after Savan, his stride not unlike the untrained child that he was. Finding classes was hard as most Sith would rather keep strength and power to themselves rather than train others that would potentially betray them. He would find one eventually, enrolling in a class in Ataru, a lightsaber form that his new-found friend, Dawn, had shown him. Granted he hadn't had time to practice the form as his projects devoured most of his precious time, he was glad the class was here to show him more what Dawn couldn't while allowing him to practice said techniques.

The child bowed in a respectful manner to his Teacher, Crusader Nox. Frost opened his eyes, a respectful gesture he used with only the most note-worthy people, such as his friends or, in this case, his Teacher. His eyes were a bright cyan color, an eye color unusual to most humans. For Frost it was a family trait. His father had them, and his father's father had him. If Frost survived to have his own offspring, they would have these eyes as well. "Hello, Crusader Nox", Frost said as he rose from his bow and hid his eyes once more. He turned to his classmate and bowed in respect as well, but this was a different kind of respect. It was a cautious kind, used to acknowledge comradeship, but nothing more.

 

[Omnis]

A Pureblood and a young Human. The clash of wills in this class session could prove interesting. Hopefully it would. Nox was beginning to develop a distaste for reticent Sith almost as those that were purely unrestrained and unreasoning. Turning to his new students, Nox gave each a nod.

"You have come to learn Form IV, the Way of the Hawkbat, Ataru. It is an intense form that, when properly practiced, can be extremely demanding. Other Form practitioners, such as those from Djem So and Juyo, will claim that theirs are the most physically demanding. What they lack, however, is the calculating philosophy of Ataru.

The Ataru practitioner ends a fight quickly both for the sake of efficiency and so that they do not lose their stamina to keep fighting. The Aggression Form. It differs from the Ferocity form, which will have users attack chaotically. The aggression of Ataru is calculated, with purpose. Where Juyo users feel great inner turmoil, an Ataru user should feel determination.

If you do not know, Ataru excels in combat for its mindfulness of the user's strength, speed, and ability. Ataru presumes that its user is versed in the ways of the Force and can augment their capabilities with it."

Turning around, Nox waved his hand in the air. Below, five gates opened. The Tuk'ata inside came out cautiously at first, glaring at one another and sniffing the air with their incredibly perceptive snouts. For a moment, it almost seemed as though they weren't going to come out as they all shrank back at once. Then, in a blur of motion and dark color, the Tuk'ata burst out of their cages and started mauling one another.

"Notice their pure aggression. They go for the throat first, resorting only to crippling wounds after if need be. They do not waste time on broad shots across the back or flank, as it would do nothing in their combat. They are constantly on the move, making themselves harder to target or pin down. Attacking from every direction, their next move becomes hard to predict."

Nox's head bowed down a bit, then a large burst of pressure exploded down in the pit and flung each hound apart. Knowing their captor's will, the hounds slunk back into their cages and started licking their wounds. Another handwave slammed the cage doors shut, then another opened a different one.

A much larger Tuk'ata strolled out of its cage, stretching as it did so. The beast had a score of lightsaber burn marks along its shoulders and flanks, as well as a few deep puncture scars where other Tuk'atas had nearly sunk jaws into crippling locations. However, the broad and tall dark hound was clearly in its own class. An alpha amongst lessers.

"Does one of you dare to enter the pit and face my prime?"