Touching Up On the Bare Basics

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik stood in one of the open training courts on Korriban, watching Acolytes practice Force Powers and Lightsaber styles. A large portion were practice with wooden staves, as they had not received a lightsaber yet, and another portion with sabers, likely set on training mode to dampen the lethality of the weapon. "Weak... all of them!" he exclaimed, watching the Acolytes clamor about against each other. "If this one wanted to watch boys play with sticks, I'd go home to Barab I! And there, they'd kill one another! You're all pathetic! Won't one of you take this one on?! Not one?!" he said, finally breaking his silence.

"YOU! The human boy. Fight this one!" he said, pointing to a larger than most Acolyte of Human, specifically Corellian ancestry.

"Uh, I only got this saber yesterday." he said, clamoring to find an excuse.

"Fool! Pathetic!" he hissed, then pointed to a Dathomirian. "You! You've trained with me before. Fight me!" Grik demanded.

"Kriff no. You're mad!" he responded and left the training court to go to another one.

"Coward!" he yelled at the Dathomirian as he walked away.

"Here's what this one will do. This one will fight whoever challenges, using only Shii Cho. No Force, no Ataru. Any takers? Are NONE of you true Sith?!"

 

[Vexillar]

Viole watched often enjoyed a nice afternoon of meditation at the training courts. The activity, the concentration of the Force, it made him feel at ease. He sat there this day, on a large boulder meditating. As he meditated, he assembled and disassembled his lightsaber. Be at ease...in fear lays death, in anger lays blindness, in hesitation lays bindings. He breathed slowly and steadily, taking in deep breaths and calming sighs. He reflected on the last few missions he was on. He pointed out his own areas of weakness. Too slow...too weak...too meek." He mentally reviewed his fights during these missions. Suddenly he could feel his left arm where he was shot. A small burn mark was there from the incident. It felt like that moment all over again. He lost control of his breathing for just a moment, before regaining it. This moment of peace wouldn't last for long though as suddenly he heard shouting. Finishing up assembling his lightsaber he "opened" his eyes to the world once more. He located the shouting male. He was battle starved. His aura radiated frustration. The Miraluka remained impassive as he observed the demands for battle.

He gave a sharp whistle that drew the attention of the grounds. "You seek a battle...This one shall answer. You may use Form I, and you may use your Force powers. Shall we say...first to three hits? Nothing fatal...You may favor killing and serious injury, but senseless death and forced retirement are wastes of..." --he looked around the training grounds for a moment-- ...potential. He spoke evenly and very matter of fact. He levitated his blade for the other Acolyte to see. A few of the Acolytes that Grik had challenged seemed perplexed at the Miraluka's acceptance. He dismissed their confused emotions though. Their concern, emotional state, and problems were none of his concerns.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik looked at the Miralukan with a grin. "Something makes this one think you'll be a fun fight. Deal. But one thing. This one wants to go to more strikes. I'll use one saber. Any other... handicaps you'd like me to add?" he asked, almost mockingly, with an amused siss. Grik was a brash and obnoxious Barabel who loved a good fight. Little known fact about Grik was that he was simply used to other Barabel and this was how they past time. He stuck his scaly hand out to meet the Miralukan, unsure if he'd actually see his hand.

 

[Vexillar]

"No...no more 'handicaps'. Also how about...five strikes?" He could see, and feel, the man's hesitation about extending his hand. He felt confused about the action. Which Viole took to mean that he wasn't sure if he should do it. If his skills at empathy were a bit better, or existent at all, maybe he could have discovered the reason behind the hesitation. As it was, however, Viole reached out and shook the man's hand. He then stood up slowly and stepped down from his position. He walked forward and put about six meters of space between the two of them. Viole then turned around to face Grik, his face was emotionless, and he seemed to be rather calm.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Holding his hand out, Grik grew impatient as he began to think the Miralukan wouldn't shake his hand. "Five is fine." he said, gripping his hand firmly and shaking it. He stepped back and got ready. The Acolytes around them had stopped sparring to watch the two spar. Grik drew his newest saber, powered by two Damind crystals which gave 18 centimeters to the blade, and ignited it, revealing an almost crimson color blade, a bit darker than the typical blade of a Sith. He stood with a simple but effective forward guard, angling the blade toward his enemy and upward. "This one is ready." he said, waiting for Viole.

 

[Vexillar]

A deal had been struck. The Acolyte stood with his right shoulder facing the Acolyte. His saber, held in the right hand, activated. From the black hilt a slightly thinner and sharper, thanks to the Rubat crystal, purple blade spawned. His curved saber fit neatly in his hand and he held it with determination. His feet were at shoulder width apart. He nodded as the Acolyte announced that he was ready. [color=#]"You may proceed..."[/color] Viole wasn't really one to strike first. He could wait for as long as need be. Judging from his opponent's desire for a challenge, however, Viole judged that the man wouldn't wait very long for an attack from Viole before making his own. The others who had gathered around to watch this fight were of little concern to Viole. He knew they were there, but he paid them no mind. They were not his target. This man was. The Miraluka knew very little about his target, but he would make what he did know work for him.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Combat was fun for Grik. He found joy, not only in killing, but the fight itself. If a kill didn't put up a fight, he felt that it was a waste of resources and would seek a worthy adversary to fill the void. He made sure the non lethal setting on his saber was turned on and dashed forward with the use of the Force, then off line with Viole, swinging hard at the wrist of his sword hand before flourishing, twisting his body around behind his opponent, attempting to strike a second time against the left leg. Continuing with his circular momentum, he covers out, and distances himself from his target.

 

[Vexillar]

The Miraluka let out a gentle breath as he watched the Acolyte dash forward at him. He was quick. He would give him that, but speed was not something that intimidated Viole. As Grik got within striking range, Viole would parry his strike, his blade met the male's and with a small gesture of his wrist the blade was diverted off to the side. The Miraluka utilized an in place Force Jump to sail up into the sky. When he landed and stood up straight and motioned for Grik to attack again. "Nice form. This one approves of it. Again." A small smile spread onto his lips as he 'eyed' the other Acolyte. Viole learned a fair amount from that attack. Form and function, this one had down. He needed to know more, however. Just a little bit more, and he would be content.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik turned and closed the distance, keeping the distance between him and his opponent, and utilizing his advantageously long blade, coming down with multiple short chops, coupled with thrusts and jabs under and over the blade hand. If allowed to dominate, Grik tended to back an enemy into the corner. As he allowed his opponent to get used to the light and quick strikes from a distance, he flipped his dual-phase switch, to shorten his blade, thus giving him much more leverage, for more power oriented strikes. Effectively, using his superior physique to do so, he locks blades with Viole, overhead and uses his heavy leg to shove the Miralukan away, giving him time to switch up his strikes, yet again, to keep his opponent on his toes. He hissed with excitement as he continued his offensive.

 

[Vexillar]

Viole proved to be able to hold his own against the quick strikes. Footwork had always been his strong suit, allowing him to quickly retreat and advance as need be, but he was on the defensive. He was simply watching, waiting. He knew eventually it would pay off, and it did. He arched a brow as the weapon's blade was shortened. Grik charged in again, and Viole readied himself as he was taught to. This would be a test against the weakness of Makashi. The savage, brutal, and powerful strikes of other forms. Makashi was a fluid one a, as Viole would say, gentleman's style. He retreated from the first strike, gauging power, but the Acolyte recoveed quickly from the miss and pushed the assault. Viole was now truly on the defensive with this. He had seen enough though to know what he was in for. Now he just needed to get away from this savage. They locked blades once more, and Grik went to strike out against him with his foot. Viole disengaged the blades and retreated from the foot, using the force from disengaging to add to the distance provided. The retreat wasn't good enough though, and Grik was on him once more. He needed to get his space.

The Miraluka began to siphon the Force from the universe. He pushed it into his left hand as he continued to defend himself, albeit with each strike, each movement of the other, defense became less and less appealing. He performed a quick parry, meeting the enemy's blade and flicking it off to the side with a quick motion. Once that was done, his left hand released the power that had stored up. The space between them was suddenly filled with the primal energy as it raced from his hand to it's intended target, Grik, with the intent of shoving him across the field.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

The reptilian stayed practically on top of his enemy throughout his assault. As his assault continued, he began pacing himself, making minute changes in the angling of his strikes and footwork that would make it hard for a retreating combatant to retreat, asserting his dominant position in the fight. While welling up for his own force strike, he continued striking. Waiting for an opening, and with the intention of exerting enough Force, he planned to negate the attack, but inside created a radial push, effecting both of the Acolytes possibly sending either one of them into the crowd that surrounded them. Grik was sent back several feet, but was able to clamor to his feet and close a great deal of distance simply by sprinting before stopping a few feet away from Viole, with his guard up. "This one... thinks that is one for both of us." he said, catching his breath as it had pressed out of his chest due to the force blast.

 

[Vexillar]

The blast sent Viole back a fair distance. The Miraluka managed to recover himself, his feet touching the ground and slowing him to a halt. He took a deep breath. He wouldn't contend or agree with the dual points. It would be pointless to. Let the stones fall where they may. The Acolyte continued to keep his mind well guarded, finding that he wasn't even actively thinking about anything to maintain it at this point. It just happened. He righted himself and advanced on his foe. In one quick Force-aided dash he appeared before the other. His blade went in for a thrust upon Grik's left shoulder. A simple strike that he would no doubt block, and that was what Viole wanted. For the moment the blades made contact, should they in fact touch, Viole would counter-pary the blade and end up back to attacking the shoulder once more.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Meeting Viole in the middle, he managed to stop before he got too close to dodge the thrust thrown by him at the end of his respective dash. As he lunged in to thrust, his positioning would leave his sword arm's side open for attack. Since Grik decided to dodge, this left him with the chance to score a point, so he acted upon it, striking at the center of Viole's ribs, shifting his weight and stepping through the strike, he'd rake his lightsabers non-lethal blade through his rib cage. He would continue in a circular motion, pivoting on the balls of his feet and cover out of striking range.

 

[Vexillar]

Good.

Here's another area where the Miraluka would shine. The dodge wasn't bad, and would have been perfect had it been anyone else. The Miraluka's mastery with Force Sight, as well as their literally lifetime experience with the ability, gave them incredible dexterity. Which was the sole reason why he chose the Makashi style to learn. It's fluid motions and quick strikes, combined with his natural dexterity, would make duels the perfect environment for him. The lunge for Grik's shoulder was performed, and while Viole could have dodged it, he kept his cards close to his chest. Instead of pivoting on his grounded forward foot, he remained still. He felt the blade cross his chest and as he did, his left hand turned slightly. Viole drew on the Force and unleashed a Force Push through that hand as Grik moved away from him. Timing it this way, would make dodging very difficult. In the mean time he would turn around, reposition himself, and then dash forward again. He began to unleash a flurry of quick and small strikes at Grik. Each strike was aimed for a different spot of the man's body, and, due to the fact that the Makashi style wasn't about brute force, the repositioning of his blade to strike out again was incredibly quick. The entire time he kept his feet in line together, advancing upon Grik, but always ready to retreat if he needed to be. He kept the pressure on Grik, and his sight was honed to such a degree that he could see all limbs on Grik, letting nothing escape his sight.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

Grik covered out, continuing in his circular footwork, effectively dodging the bulk of the Force Push, only being knocked slightly off balance. Enough was recovered so that he could effectively receive and defend against the offensive stance Viole took. While batting away the short and targeted strikes while he thought of a strategy. A few moments went by before he decided to aim a Force push at the Miralukan's legs to throw him off balance, possibly even take them out from under him, and then moved to the left, attempting a wide swing with his lightsaber before moving again, continuing his momentum, modifying it further with the Force, for a second power strike aimed for the crown of his opponent's head or right shoulder.

 

[Vexillar]

Viole carefully watched the Acolyte's movements carefully as he defended himself. The movement of his arm did not catch him off guard. He pushed off and retreated from the blast, dodging it with minimal effort. This also gave him more room to observe the other's movements as well. He Grik as he moved in for another attack, but Viole was more than ready for it. His blade came up, knocking the other blade up. Grik continued his movement, however, and Viole was still prepared for the worst. Fortunately for him, it simply ended up being another basic swing. His purple blade came up to meet the other's, and the strength behind it was clear. He couldn't leave the blades locked like this. So rather he pushed down on the blade, rolling it back out and down into the ground. He then stepped forward in an advance, but slid his blade up the enemy saber's length. This would, for all intents and purposes lead to his saber lightly running up the Barabel's hand, wrist, and arm where he would then remove the blade form his opponent, rather than keep it running across his chest and side. As he continued to advanced passed the Acolyte, he would quickly pivot and resume his flurry of attacks at the Acolyte. His feet were, of course, once more in line with each other ready for another advance or retreat as needed.

 

[Bleed Me A River]

The blade hit the Barabel's hand, burning it enough to be felt, but not enough to disarm him. The score between them was now two to two. He quickly followed up with a counter, spinning around out of Viole's line of attack and striking with a deceptive underhanded horizontal saber strike, timed as Viole striked away from Grik as he closed a lot of distance while doing so. After the attack was executed, he used his shoulder to bash him back, physically instead of using the Force, as its been of little use to him against Viole in this match. After doing that, he continued an onslaught of strikes, circling his opponent, instead of fighting in a linear fashion. He'd strike a few times and move to his left or right rapidly before doing so.

 

[Vexillar]

Grik moved, as Viole assumed he would, and swung his blade. It was a simple matter for the Acolyte to lower his own weapon to block the strike, and then follow it up with a retreat, thus avoiding the follow-up attack. Viole had a good sense of what this man's fighting style was at this point and, in truth, he was beginning to wonder how long he could keep this particular style up. The benefits of always moving, running about to and fro, swinging wide or with powerful strikes, was obvious. You remained hard to hit while hitting hard, always a good thing...except for when your energy would begin to falter. Such was the benefit of Makashi. It didn't require, use, or desire such brutish strikes or silly acrobatic motions. Makashi was ideal for saber combat, as with a simply flick of one's wrist the tables could be turned almost instantly. It was a beautiful thing. So when the Barabel moved in and began to circle him again, he wasn't terribly surprised. It seemed that was his best defense, moving in circles. Which was fine by Viole. His sight allowed him to move as quickly as he wanted and never worry about lag or a delay. The Force would always show him what was truly happening, and not what "eyes" would want their host to believe. Each time the blade came in he would simply parry the strike away, and wait for the man to move yet again. He allowed this to happen a few times before stepping in. He advanced and met the enemy's blade before it could fully extend thus interrupting the attack. He once more slid his blade down the length of the enemy's in an attempt to strike the male's digits. This was then followed up by a quick retreat and a ready stance for whatever attack would come.