Kyyrk
Vylmira's Wrath
In all things, weigh the risk against the reward. Words that Kyyrk kept near and dear to his heart. War often challenged his adherence to this mantra. But he stuck by it. He was cold. Cunning. Calculating. Patient. Patience was a virtue. And after five thousand years spent imprisoned? Patience was something Kyyrk excelled at. He would not strike unless it afforded a victory. He was reserved until he found what he sought. Then he struck without mercy. Such had always been the way. Now, in the deserts of Verun, he was given a chance to put his skill to the test. Clad in his usual armor, and armed with the one blade that had been with him through thick and thin, Kyyrk waited.
The rules were simple. Two mile square. No attacking bystanders. Medics on standby if things got out of hand. If either were called away for any reason, the other was to respect that. Not that either of them would stoop to such a feint. The signal had been given. The battlefield was live. Kyyrk's helmet had ceased all visual function, allowing the man to focus exclusively on his Force Sight. His breath was slow and measured. Storing strength for the engagement to come. Kyyrk moved through the cluster of rocks silently, his senses dedicated to finding his opponent, while masking his own presence.
In truth, if someone had asked Kyyrk what he would have thought of such a thing, he'd have said it was stupid. But this exercise had proven infinitely useful. To both of them. A chance to hone their skills against one of equal power. For all the failings that such an order had, Kyyrk still respected the Sith to a degree. Conflict among your peers certainly was an effective Crucible of growth. Today's bout had drawn a small crowd. Curious to see in who's favor the scales would tip this time. And so, the warmaster faced the Dominus once more. The board was set. Kyyrk was allowing the Dominus to make the first move...
The rules were simple. Two mile square. No attacking bystanders. Medics on standby if things got out of hand. If either were called away for any reason, the other was to respect that. Not that either of them would stoop to such a feint. The signal had been given. The battlefield was live. Kyyrk's helmet had ceased all visual function, allowing the man to focus exclusively on his Force Sight. His breath was slow and measured. Storing strength for the engagement to come. Kyyrk moved through the cluster of rocks silently, his senses dedicated to finding his opponent, while masking his own presence.
In truth, if someone had asked Kyyrk what he would have thought of such a thing, he'd have said it was stupid. But this exercise had proven infinitely useful. To both of them. A chance to hone their skills against one of equal power. For all the failings that such an order had, Kyyrk still respected the Sith to a degree. Conflict among your peers certainly was an effective Crucible of growth. Today's bout had drawn a small crowd. Curious to see in who's favor the scales would tip this time. And so, the warmaster faced the Dominus once more. The board was set. Kyyrk was allowing the Dominus to make the first move...
