Faction New Blood // Inaugural Trials

[Aliyah]

The girl brought a hand to her waist, watching as the duel went on, she was left without a sparring partner but to spectate was also a way to learn. "Take your time." A tired sigh escapes her, as she watches the fight. "...Not like I'm going anywhere..." The girl softly murmurs, deciding to take in her surroundings, wherever her gaze followed, particularly strong ripples of invisible energy could be felt, no doubt that this girl was gifted with the Force. Her gaze locked onto the beast which appeared to shoot out telepathic warnings. There is a long gaze, one of acknowledgement. But it quickly returns to the surrounding battles.

Eventually, she grows distracted by a few other acolytes hooded, and armed with swords. Looking for their next prey, she's temporarily drawn into a fight of her own, perhaps not outmatched but outnumbered for sure, the cunning siths had forged a temporary alliance to take on stronger enemies, unorthodox. But judging by how much the girl struggled to defend against several attacks at once, it didn't seem to be without a merit.

Sssslik Myunnah Kai'lyn

 

[Leshanna]

Leshanna didn’t have time to see where the interloper went, for as she turned her attention back to her opponent, she noticed him lower his head almost as if he was going to charge and ram her with his horns, before he made a swing towards her legs with the barbed sword.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she reacted more out of instinct than anything else, making a leap back to avoid the slash to her legs. Her dueling rival skipped to the side, as if anticipating a reaction strike from her, and for some reason she felt something hot flash over her, bringing a flush to her pale skin. It wasn’t fear…no she was too excited for that.

It was…anger? Maybe…but that didn’t feel quite right. She felt too much excitement to truly be angry. Exhilaration? That was maybe closer to the truth.

The world around her started to fade away, until all her focus was on her dueling partner. Leshanna glared and she made a quick step in towards him and lunged forward with a vicious swipe towards the Zabrak’s sword arm, her face contorting slightly with her effort and the heated determination she felt as she was urged forward by these strange new emotions. They made her feel stronger; she would finally get to show someone that she wasn’t some weak girl who could be pushed over anymore!

Naamino Zuukamano

​

 

[Darth Caedes]

​

Korriban​

Vardin, Palatial Capital of Korriban​

Spires of Kor'ethyr​

Tags— Zal Aditi | Madrona A’Mia | Naamino Zuukamano | Diarch Reign | Lodd Grimmin | Kyraj | Leshanna ​

​

Darth Caedes' golden gaze flickered with glinting interest, taking in the approach of Darth Reign. The other Lord's gait was calculated and well mannered, his words measured—a mark of someone aware of their standing yet careful not to overreach.

The Sith Lord bowed slightly to Elmindra, greeting her in the ways formality required, before turning his full attention to the King.

"My Lord Caedes, I will admit I was surprised to receive an invitation, but I could not pass up a chance to see the splendor of your realm and witness the future of the Sith firsthand. I must say, Korriban is not what I had expected. The history and power here are… amazing. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to join in this momentous occasion."​

Reign paused, his amber eyes glittering with warmth.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Darth Reign, Lord of the Diarchy, and a friend, should you have me."​

Caedes appraised the other man with an air of mild detachment, though inwardly he found the introduction a pleasant surprise. Reign was a name which carried weight beyond the borders of his Holy Worlds, and the Diarchy, while small, was not unformidable. Moreover, Caedes knew well enough the value of keeping powerful friends close, and potential rivals closer still. Accordingly, he allowed a thin smile to stretch his lips, leaning forward to address Reign.

"Lord Reign," Caedes began, magnanimously.​

"Your presence here is no accident, I assure you. The Diarchy's name has traveled far, as has the news of your work on Bastion."​

Pausing, his gaze was drawn off, up and over Reign's shoulder to where Lodd Grimmin emerged from the colorful crowds.

"You will find we have rooms prepared for you in Vardin's Palace," he informed, distractedly, "should you wish to extend your stay here on Korriban. Indeed, I look forward to seeing exactly how our paths converge in the future."​

Mounted atop a spidery-legged mechno-chair, the Neimoidian Trade representative drew near to the throne, entitled in the way Caedes had come to expect from those representing the privilege of wealth. He traced the creature's approach with thoughtful eyes.

"Ah, yes… It appears that I am not the earliest attendee at this conference," Grimmin said, obsequiously.​

"I will express my apologies for my lateness, Darth Caedes, but as you know, matters within the Alliance have not been particularly well-suited for investors. It is my hope that Korriban is not the same way…"​

Caedes leaned back to sprawl in his throne, considering the Neimoidian and waving away his apologies. Financial negotiations had never interested him, yet this was about more than petty politics. This was about rebuilding from the ashes and reconstituting Korriban's fleet. To do that, off-putting as it was to contend with, he needed creatures like this.

"Your concerns are noted, Grimmin," Caedes replied curtly, his eyes flicking to Elmindra.​

"The Trade Federation is recognized and welcomed on Korriban. I do not doubt you will find your stay here... worthwhile. Admiral Xitaar," he indicated with a gesture, "will see to the matters of commerce and trade. Rest assured, Korriban is more than capable of accommodating those willing to invest in its future."​

However, it was the throne's third petitioner which drew Caedes' interest most notably. Once a pureblood of Korriban's red-skinned Sith species, this final claimant wore a form long since corrupted by the unfortunate touch of cybernetics—an android hybrid in possession of both ancient heritage and modern machinery. Arrogance radiated from him like a storm, though it earned him only an amused grin from the Crown.

"As one who sits on a throne," Cryptis greeted, his mechanical voice rasping, "you must be the Darth Caedes I have heard tell of. I come before you in custom for a host, yet this world is more my home than any of the others I see here in this chamber."​

Caedes remained still, unfazed by the mechanical Lord's presumption.

"I have outlived rivals and Empires," the Sith continued, superciliously.​

"I have watched the Sith through the ages. I have grown bored of watching. Your works here do not disappoint me, as you at least present appreciation for my people's culture that you and your contemporaries claim to inherit. I am the Sith Lord Darth Cryptis. It will be foolish of you to dismiss my wisdom."​

Silence fell over the spire's balcony, a chill which seemed to smother conversations and break them into whispers. Emerging from their place in the shadows, Jen'koshû Dreadlords stepped forward and into the light, interposing themselves between this newcomer and their King; scarred, pale fingers gripping at the hilts of power-wrought blades. Their menace stilled the crowds, eliciting stammered gasps and surprised exhalations. It was oft said on Korriban that "the gaze of a Dreadlord was fear," enough to paralyze a man and turn his bowels to water. Ancient did not begin to describe the Jen'koshû terrors. Most had walked these sands, in life, beneath the auspices of Korriban's eldest Empires. Beneath their gaze, even this creature was little more than a child.

"You speak boldly for one so young," hissed the eldest Jen'koshû with a voice like gravel and glass.​

Yet Caedes did not rise to the insinuation, meeting Cryptis only with an air of amused boredom. Instead, he smiled—a smile which carried in it no warmth—and raised the fingers on one hand. Almost a lazy gesture, it bore the weight of full command nevertheless. Across the balcony, Jen'koshû halted in their tracks and fell back, hooded and enshadowed faces lowered in the presence of their King and Father—loosing the grip on their blades.

"Darth Cryptis," Caedes responded, his voice soft though edged with iron.​

"Indeed, it would be foolish for anyone to dismiss the wisdom of our elders," he cautioned, pointedly.​

"You are welcomed, all the same. Few can claim to have witnessed the rise and fall of empires as you have, and fewer still carry the bloodline of the Sith as you once did. Your belonging to this world is undeniable, and I acknowledge the weight of your history here. Yet, it was I who reclaimed Korriban from its Ashlan occupiers—when the Jedi sought to desecrate these holy grounds, you were absent. It was through my hand that Korriban was restored to its rightful place as a Holy World to our Order. And when the ashes settled, it was not merely by might that I claimed this throne. The spirits of our ancient forebears, set free at my will, embraced me as their rightful king. They recognized in me, as will you, the strength of vision to lead Korriban anew." Caedes adjusted in posture, leaning forward.​

"I welcome your wisdom, Darth Cryptis, for I value the past even as I forge for the future. But understand this: while I honor what you represent, the spirits have spoken, and this world, as ever, demands respect for its ruler."​

His eyes locked with Cryptis, the challenge clear.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Her jump back and the subsequent change that came over her didn't go unnoticed. Naami hadn't a clue what might be going on in the privacy of her mind, but he knew for certain that this girl was not some "wilting velanie flower". No, it was clear that she had guts. She snapped back against his attack with one of her own and the boy made to block it hastily. Spurred blades snagged and halted their momentum for a moment, Naami's face registering solemn surprise at the strength he had to put into holding her at bay.

Leshanna wasn't the only brand new combatant here, he'd also never used a weapon before that day and no amount of cardio or calisthenic exercise could make up for the unique exhaustion that comes with active combat- practice or otherwise. Though the scowl had faded from the boy's face as he registered surprise, he gritted his teeth as he suddenly pulled back to bash his hilt against hers. The move was ferociously executed but with no expertise behind it, and Naami very nearly scrapped the knuckles of his supporting hand against his own blade as he went for a two handed shove. Her shadow seemed to fall over him as he aggressively invaded her zone, clearly trying to push her more onto defense, and a slight tingle ran down his spine. It felt like a warning but in the heat of his duel he had no mind to heed it.

 

[Diarch Reign]

Tags: Darth Caedes Lodd Grimmin Elmindra Xitaar

---

Darth Reign was pleasantly surprised by the returned smile and the pleasing tone of the King, he had expected to be talked down to, as is the case with Royalty. At the mention of his work on Bastion however, Reign had to laugh, not in a derisive way, no, but with genuine affection. Saying “My work on Bastion is but a pale imitation of what you have achieved here, my lord. And the Diarchy but a small movement. But one day perhaps, we may be truly worthy of the notice you have given us.”

Feeling the presence of another behind him, he turned to slightly to see a neimoidian approaching, wearing the trappings of wealth. Pegging him for a trade federation representative, Reign made note to speak with him if time allowed. The Diarch was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed what the King next said. Snapping back to the moment, he responded “I would be honored to extend my stay, I believe we have much to discuss. I will advise my wife and daughters that I won’t be returning as expected, they are prone to worry.” a soft smile forming as he thought of his family back on Bastion.

Bowing, he took his leave so the king may speak with his other guests. Turning instead to the architect of his being here, First Lord Xitaar. Moving to stand by the Falleen’s side he gave a slight nod. “I know it was by your hand and the kings that I am here Lord Xitaar, word has reached the Diarchy of the disaster at Sluis Van, and the betrayal your people suffered. It is this easy betrayal of one Sith by another that drove my father away. It is the disdain of such immoral practices that is one of the driving principles we stand for. But enough philosophy, I feel we may be of use to you, please if time allows, let us talk of friendship.” he smiled at the other Lord. He had not come to talk alliances and politics, now that the king had allowed him to prolong his stay, there would be plenty of time.

With genuine affection, he continued “my heart wept for your people when we heard. I am sorry.” Reign knew his small condolences wouldn’t fix the pain, but would be remiss if he did not let it be known.

He did however let out a laugh at the drama unfolding at the throne, as someone in leadership he understood the king’s firm but fair tone and the unspoken challenge it carried.

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Diarch Reign Darth Caedes @Others

The Neimoidian perceived a sense of disdain directed towards him by the King of Korriban Darth Caedes . This animosity may have stemmed from a jealousy regarding the considerable influence and political clout wielded by the Trade Federation within both the Sith Order and the Galactic Alliance due to various alliances, or it could reflect a broader hostility towards his species as a whole since they were often viewed as cowards and avarious individuals.

This observation remained speculative for the most part until the Dark Lord made such intentions clear, indicating that he was viewed merely as a component within the machinery of industry rather than a potential investor with numerous connections across the galaxy. Under different circumstances, he might have taken offense at such an implication; however, he recognized that business dictated a different reality.

Those who could not adapt to the demands of commerce risked being swiftly confronted by emerging competitors and adversaries such as the Commerce Guild and Aurora Industries to name a few prominent ones. His hand reached out to pet the Neimoidian pylat bird perched on his other arm, which was settled comfortably and emitted a few squawks directed at the acolytes below, who were engaged in a struggle for survival against numerous adversities.

Meanwhile, the discussion shifted focus to Admiral Elmindra Xitaar , the designated opponent in this strategic contest of economic chess, recognized for her extensive expertise in such matters.

"Then I shall endeavor to communicate with your Finance Offical, Your Majesty. We will come to a suitable arrangement that will ensure that Korriban is considered the economic superior of Jutrand." Lodd responded with a degree of courtesy rather than directness, drawing upon his extensive political experience to convey a message that was simultaneously substantial and vague.

He merely assured that their accord would surpass the economic productivity of Jutrand, the capital of the Emperor. Regrettably for the Trade Monarch, the First Lord was engrossed in the matters concerning Diarch Reign , who, as per various rumors in the corporate community, was the Lord of the Dyarchy, an emerging force within the galaxy.

He opted to remain within the mechno-chair on a different balcony, biding his time to aquire another piece in his growing financial empire.

 

[Leshanna]

The Zabrak boy countered her swipe with haste, and she saw a look of surprise flash across his face as their blades locked together on the barbs and she pressed in on him. This brought a small smirk to the corner of her lips, but before she could do anything else he surprised her by disengaging and then smashing his blade against hers with enough force to jar her arms a bit, sending pins and needles down into the single hand that held her own sword, shoving against her as he did so in an effort to force her to back away and put her on the defensive. His move was risky for he very nearly grazed himself on the barbs of his own blade as he pressed into her space.

Leshanna grunted with some effort as she tried to stand her ground, bringing up her free hand to grip her sword once more in both hands as her feet started sliding slightly on the platform beneath her. Lesh exhaled sharply in what almost sounded like an angry snort; she really didn’t like being pushed around, and she scowled and glared at the boy fiercely as a realization hit her:

For too long had she been on the defensive in her young life, hiding and cowering away. It was time she proved once and for all that she was more than just a shy, quiet girl who was forced to endure all the negative things that had been placed upon her. And right now, this Zabrak boy embodied all of those negative thoughts and feelings and memories, and all she could think of doing was defeating them, once and for all!

Snarling, Lesh shifted her weight from one leg to the other and made a swift and rather angry kick towards the boy’s forward knee, putting her emotion into it, hoping to distract him or even hurt him enough so that he wouldn’t be so close to her.

If she could do that, then maybe she could gain the advance of space with which to make another attack with her pelko sword.

Naamino Zuukamano


​

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

His shove was somewhat successful but it clearly wasn't going to gain him ground. She would not yield ground to him without making him pay for it. And pay he did. Her sudden kick caught him off guard, causing him to drop to the assaulted knee but thankfully not fall back entirely. Instinct told him to raise the pelko blade in defense, faster than he'd yet moved this fight, fueled by spiking adrenaline. His heart pounded in his chest, his fear had evaporated, and his focus sharpened to a cutting edge.

Nothing else mattered. The way forward was binary: Success or failure.

Leshanna​

 

[Sssslik]

"One chrono-second, Overseers, fellow Acolytes, and those above us - dealing with a brutish mammal who decided to get uppity today."

Unfortunately, Kai'lyn had made the classical blunder endemic to all mammals - assuming a snake or serpentine species was slow. And indeed, as the booted foot came, aimed for the back of Sssslik's cranial region, the tail area holding the blade by the hilt swung outward. It attempted to connect with Kai'lyn's leg at the ankle or calf with alarming speed - hoping to force a strike and deflection, or at least if possible (should it even miss or connect), force the Togruta to back off his attempted kick. A gout of laughing hisses smirked from the Fillithar as crimson-slitted eyes merely took in the glimmering claws. With that, he merely slinked away as fast as possible - or more accurately, side-winded and then backwards to puff up like some kind of rattling serpent and to keep on-guard against anymore incoming attempts at an... well, assault was too strong of words.

A fallacy? No, too fancy. Tomfoolery? Yeah, that worked.

Another hissing series of words in Basic followed at the snake's puffed-up posture.

"You know, Mammal, you look diseased. Have you considered perhaps taking a bath?"

With a heckling bout of venomous laughter, the snake flicked its sword in its held tail section, before commenting one last time.

"Actually, no, a bath may be too little for a smelly corpse such as yourself. Perhaps a waste disposal unit for hazardous materials ought to work better?"

Kai'lyn​

 

[Leshanna]

The world around Leshanna and her dueling partner no longer existed to her. She didn’t feel the chill in the air, she didn’t see nor hear the other acolytes dueling nearby. Her sole focus was on this Zabrak boy, on finally stepping up and coming out of her own shell.

There was a moment of surprise that bloomed within the young girl when her foot connected with his knee, the impact hard enough to jostle her own leg but it was enough to drop her opponent down on one knee. She hadn’t expected that to actually work - but she wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation, lunging forward with a jab towards his chest, fueled by the growing excitement that continued to fill and energize her.

Her stab would not land how she intended, however, for he brought his blade up in the same moment that she made her thrust and her strike was deflected. The edge of her own pelko sword grazed against his shoulder, and in her overzealous lunge, she was not aware of just how close his sword was to her.

…Until she felt a sharp sting on her non-sword arm that made her hiss in pain.

Leshanna hopped away from him before she whirled back around to face him as searing pain began to radiate through her left arm from the tiny, bleeding cut left behind. The pain was far more intense than she imagined it would be, and tears began to form in her eyes. But she gritted her teeth despite this. She wasn't going to let this defeat her now, and she certainly wasn't going to cry in front of a boy!

Naamino Zuukamano

​

 

[Spirit of Korriban]

Sith Holy Worlds
Korriban
Kor'ethyr Dueling Pits
Tags— Naamino Zuukamano | Leshanna | Diarch Reign | Kyraj | Elmindra Xitaar | Lodd Grimmin | Sssslik | Aliyah | Kai'lyn

The courtyard of the Sith Academy erupted into activity as students paired off, stepping into the dueling lanes with their bone-carved pelko swords. Some clashes were swift and brutal—raw talent overpowering the weak in mere moments, leaving the defeated writhing on the ground, paralyzed by the pelko toxin. Other duels were more measured, filled with tension as combatants probed, gauging one another, trading blows in careful sequences. Still some students, grasping at any advantage, turned to Dun Möch, hurling taunts and venomous words in attempts to shake their opponents' resolve.

Darth Thaliax watched motionless, his gaze locked onto two young duelists: Leshanna , a human girl with sharp instincts, and Naamino Zuukamano , an eager Zabrak boy who had been the first to issue a challenge here today. Though both still lacked mastery, Thaliax saw the spark of fire and potential in the way they fought—the kind of potential that could, with proper guidance, be molded into something dangerous. Naamino fought with aggression, but Leshanna's fiery cunning allowed her to match his ferocity, turning each exchange into a contest of not just skill, but sheer emotional willpower.

A disturbance at the edge of the dueling lanes caught his attention. A flash of motion, a novice named Kai'lyn striking without first issueing challenge, and without the pelko-blade ordained by the trial. Thaliax moved without warning—a blur of silent-motion which belied his mass and the relative bulk of his armor. He seized a training sword in a grip of the Force, summoning it to him, its barbed edges whistling through the air and slapping into his outstretched hand. Then again, whipping the blade through the air as if tying a knot, he called upon the Force once more—this time wrapping its invisible tendrils around the rule-breaker and locking him in place. In perfect form he lashed out, striking with the war-honed precision of a Master and tap-tapping the pelko's barbs into the exposed areas of Kai'lyn's flesh; to the neck and lekku. Each strike fell like feathers, so light as not to leave marks, yet sufficient enough to deliver the pelko's immobilizing toxin.

"Power is not merely the ability to strike," Thaliax proclaimed, his voice booming with some kind of thaumaturgical effect."​

With a flick of his wrist, the Battlemaster hoisted Kai'lyn into the air, tossing him about to hang, suspended, upside down.

"Power is control—control over yourself first, over your surroundings, and most importantly, over your enemies."​

He tightened his grip in the Force, restricting the togruta's airways and ensuring his silence as he turned to address the gathered students. His voice, filtered through the rasp of his breath mask, landed as a cold monotone.

"Do not mistake haste for strength or aggression for dominance. A Sith must be measured and in control. Kai'lyn here has forgotten a most important tenet of our kind. There is no victory without discipline," he recited.​

"Kor'ethyr rules exist not to shackle you, but to sharpen you. Without control, you are a beast. And beasts are slaughtered."​

​

Another moment's silence, another murky look and bubbling breath, and Thaliax dropped the acolyte over his shoulder to collide with the stone. There was a wet thud.

"As you were," he dismissed, voice carried by the winds.​

Turning, he used a foot to supinate Kai'lyn, prodding at him until he lay upright.
More quietly this time, he growled down at the immobilized acolyte before him. Despite the child's impulsivity, he had shown the kind of talent born and honed from real experience.

"You have a patron." Thaliax predicted, "or a Master?"​

​

Spoiler: Kai'lyn's Permission

All god mod actions in this post have the express permission of Kai'lyn and are carried out with their consent.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

“I’d say that you should have worn flash lenses, but if the light was so bright that it essentially vaporized your retinas, maybe those wouldn’t have been much help.”

"I think it was like 10,000 lumens?" Marcus muttered. "Half of that would've been enough to cause permanent damage." The Jedi who had inflicted this on him must've been rather... twisted. Marcus would've preferred to have fought a paragon of good.

“I’m not blind, at least.”

Marcus laughed out loud at that. "Glad to hear it."

He was still grinning when he heard the howling tuk'ata. Chasianna asked him what they should do. "Stand and challenge here," he replied, summoning his dagger of recall from its hilt on his belt. "Moving positions could put us in the crosshairs of another creature!"

What? He was a coward, after all.

“It sounds like there is just one, but another could be close by.”

Mali had begun barking like mad, clearly ready to attack the tuk'ata. Yet the creature's attention was being drawn away from the two acolytes by someone (or something) to the west. Marcus decided to take advantage of the distraction. He threw his dagger at the beast and issued a command to his monstro-dog: "Get 'em, Mali!"

The beelzebork took off at top speed, racing across the dunes, her large tongue flapping out the side of her mouth like a flag. While the tuk'ata tried to evade the floating blade, Mali caught up to it and pounced, claws and teeth digging into the beast's flesh.

"I'll keep back for now," Marcus told Chasianna, still controlling his dagger with deft finesse. "I'm not much use in close quarters combat right now. Besides, you're faster than me anyway..."

Chasianna Zal Aditi​

 

[Sssslik]

Seeing the Togruta get essentially thudded into the ground like a sack of hardened spud-veg made the snake nearly bust out laughing. Nearly. If only because he didn't want to be turned into a freshly-shined pair of boots that he wound up keeping as silent as possible. To that end, he turned back to Aliyah and nodded his head, tail moving over to tip his slouch hat down slightly to her.

"I tip my hat to you, tailless monkey - one Acolyte to another."

Of course, there was a wry grin as he shifted back on his coils, scales rattling slightly as they rubbed against each other like saw-shaped puzzle pieces.

"Of course, I am only bemoaning the fact this will be only an Acolyte I'm facing. They could have sent me one with a better sense of fashion at least. Your hair looks like a dead Tynnian got bolted to your head and dyed a hideous color."

It was time to fight Death itself and make it his dinner! Because as soon as his taunting ending, the snake suddenly shifted. Moving slippery-fast on his coils, the Fillithar immediately lashed out - first with a feinting thrust deliberately meant to open up her guard by seeming to prod for the face (until it was retracted, of course), and with a fluid motion thanks to his unbelievably quick nature, followed it up with a pair of hip-to-shoulder and shoulder-to-hip slashes (the first combined into the second as to allow for his twisting body to spin about) that attempted to strike her. Twirling the training saber into something like that of a one-handed "fencing grip", the Sith Snek Fillithar Sith Acolyte unleashed his most important and impressive strike, should the prior attacks failed.

What was it?

Namely, striking at the ground suddenly with a down-to-top motion as to try to kick gritty sand and stony debris into the eyes of his Acolyte opponent.

Nobody said fighting a Sith had to be FAIR after all, as he chuffed with hissing laughter and waited to see if it worked. Some taunting never hurt, though.

"Many sentients say they've got a snake in their boot - but I believe you've got sand in your eyes! What a shame - it's going to be sad to not be able to see yourself be defeated so easily."

Then, going silent as to try and prepare to ambush her, the Fillithar kept cautious at every turn... He wasn't about to lose to a slightly evolved simian, after all. He swore he could still smell the stench of tropical fruit on its breath...

Aliyah​

 

[Aliyah]

The young acolyte seemed to deal with other acolytes teaming up on her, catching her breath as the two laid on the ground, writhing in pain, she might not be good at combat by a good mile, but she has the intuition and the spirit, and those things were indispensable in the light of stronger brutes or simply more experienced opponents starting to push down the weak.

She did make it pretty far, in spite of her status as a greenhorn.

"I try." She responds in a dry tone, watching as the snake sentient starts to taunt her, her lack of talking emphasising the fact that she grows focused on the duel, yet it does not seem like she's about to let the taunting continue, and the acolyte attempts to strike him in the middle of his sentence with the ruthlessness of an assassin, the strikes weren't flashy nor they had fluid motion behind them, they were short, practical, and straight to the point, minimal movement was done - likely a nod to the fact that she didn't require to put too much strength behind her blows to deal damage. And although Sssslik could likely parry or dodge them without much issue, they were enough to pressure anyone but the most skilled of opponents - who were currently watching the duels.

As the blades clash, the girl smiled. "You talk too much." With those words, she attempts to go for another strike, making a horizontal swing but the flexibility of Fillithar allows him to evade it, and respond with feints and strikes of his own, the one he planned to do at the end of his taunting, and thus the weakness of the girl, or rather - lack of experienced started to show.

While she was able to parry and even respond with counter-attacks of her own, a singular strike breaches her defenses and hits exposed flesh, causing immense pain, but not enough to make her kneel over. "Tsk..." She hisses, angered and not used to feelings of pain. It is followed by an apt use of environment on her opponent's part, now she was unable to see well, but on instincts alone she lunged with her blade in the direction of Sssslick's voice, attempting to catch the snake off-guard.

Regardless of whether she hits or not, the girl would withdraw, realizing at how much of a severe disadvantage she was, and the fact that her opponent became sneaky as to avoid creating any sound. And so, she'd reinforce her stance by planting her feet into the sand with certain determination, tightening her grip on the blade, and focusing, trying to distract herself from the feeling of extreme pain as she listened to her surroundings.

Sssslik

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Darth Caedes Zal Aditi Kivah The Scion Marcus Dinn

"EEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRREIR!"

The young cat immediately disengaged. His ears perked up as he tried to reorient away from the wounded wraid and focus instead on the lioness.

A flash of motion in his peripheral vision was his only warning. Spinning, his daggers hooked in a reverse grip, sparks flew as he just barely deflected something up and away. The sparks continued as the blade blunted against tough hide, as the child realized it was a tail.

The second tuk'ata's ambush foiled, the tail suddenly lifted away as the creature instead lunged at the boy. The lithe Cathar made a sideways leap, followed by another as he seemed to anticipate the tuk'ata's moves. And the creature, his.

Vaulting backward, the young kit spun out with a whirling strike that seemed aimed at keeping the beast's maw at arm's length... yet, his body tilted so that his blade dug into the ground and sent a shower of sand right into the tuk'ata's face. The sithspawn gave a harsh bellow as it recoiled back from the sand in its eye. Pushing up off the ground, the boy kicked out as he flipped end-over-end, delivering a kick right into the underside of the tuk'ata's jaw.

The predator off-balance, the boy landed and got his bearings just enough to break into sprint to one side.

As he did, the boy meowed back to Kivah. "Mrrrreowww-rrreow." They had their target for this assignment now. Which, on the whole, finding them was easier than he'd expected. Faster, too. Which was good. They might be back in time for dinner.

With dinner even.

The second tuk'ata shook off his attack, lunging at the boy. Jumping out of the way, the boy seemed to bounce off the side of an exposed rockface, sailing over the top of the tuk'ata's head as he made a strike at it's eye. The beast turned its head at the last moment, however, so the boy came away with having cut just a few hairs off its head.

Flipping back away from the creature, the boy tried to catch his breath as he asked, "Rrrrreow?" to see if Kivah wanted to try changing dance partners.

 

[Revna]

Korriban, c 902 ABY
The Spires of Kor'ethyr


Revna stood like a silent black shadow upon the viewing spire of the Sith King, Darth Caedes , watching out a viewing area to the dueling pits below. She had been directed to accompany him, along with a handful of others, to the viewing of the inaugural student trials of Kor'ethyr, the Sith Academy on Korriban - though she had separated herself from the others, keeping to herself unless she was directly addressed. She knew the importance of sometimes ‘being seen but not heard’, and she was content to simply be a presence there.

As she watched the students below, she was reminded of a time, not so very long ago, when she herself was a fresh acolyte being guided and trained not only by her High Priest, but also by the battlelords in his employ. The sight below her brought back those memories, and a tremor of sorrow spiked through her. The events of the Kaggath were still so fresh and raw to her, but she did her best to block them out. She wasn’t ready to face the memories, the truth, again. Not right now.

Revna was aware of others as they made their appearance before the King on his raised throne platform. She watched from the corner of her eye and listened in on their conversations; there was much she could learn from these interactions…not to mention she was curious to see how well this King interacted with others. Sith gathering together to meet for the first time could be a rather - tense affair, though the presence of the First Lord of Korriban, Elmindra Xitaar , seemed to help keep Darth Caedes cool and level headed. It was an interesting observance that Revna caught onto, though she made no outward appearance of being curious about such a thing.

She found the tact and gentlemanly nature of Diarch Reign to be a breath of fresh air. She had not interacted with or been around many Sith Lords who had such manners, and watching his interaction with the King and the First Lord of Korriban was a rather pleasant listening experience.

However, the gentleman from the Trade Federation appeared to be all about business, and the King’s response was plain-spoken towards the richly dressed Neimoidian, though no less gracious considering the situation and the topic at hand. The small Sith woman listened as Lodd Grimmin was directed to further correspond with Admiral Xitaar.

Heavy footfalls would pull Revna’s burning gaze towards a towering figure who approached the throne next, the air of superiority thick around his frame. She narrowed her gaze as she turned more to watch the scene that played out as the newcomer addressed Darth Caedes in the Old Tongue. Though she herself was still learning the language of the Sith, she picked up enough to know that this new individual walked a knife’s edge. A hush fell over those who were gathered and could see and hear the conversation taking place, and a hint of curious amusement glinted in her eyes as she watched the King carefully to see just how he would react.

A chill prickled across her skin as the Dreadlords step from the shadows, seemingly prepared to deal with the boldness of the rival Sith Lord. They hissed a response towards the one who announced himself as Darth Cryptis and she couldn’t help but wince slightly at the grating sound of their voice. The tension of anticipation seemed to build within the surrounding area as all awaited the response of the Sith King.

Her respect for Darth Caedes grew as she observed and listened to him. While he did not seem too rankled by the challenge to his authority and claim to Korriban, he still made his position clear in a firm yet respectful manner, presenting the truth of how he came to rule in a manner which could not be argued against. None present could deny what he had to say, and she was curious to hear the response back from Darth Cryptis. Would he submit to the rightful ruler of the Sith holy world? Or would he challenge the King further?

She felt a subtle shift through the Force, a surge of power, and her coal hued gaze snapped to the dueling pits below and she watched with some mild amusement as an unruly acolyte was swiftly and harshly brought to heel by one of the presiding Battlemasters. A very small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as the words the Battlemaster echoed out over the pits to fall upon the young ears of the students beyond; it was a lesson that even older Sith could stand to be reminded of from time to time. She continued to watch for a moment longer, before returning her attention back to the events unfolding before the throne.

 

[Sssslik]

Narrowly evading the blow, enough to where he felt the soft parting of air right by his head, the Fillithar kept quiet. He scooted back as silently as he could - head turned to the training racks. With his foe blinded, it was time to up the ante - and so, focusing on the Force, calling it within him... the serpentine Acolyte watched as the blade forcibly dislodged from the rack - and barely caught within his mouth with a SNAP! Unfortunately...

The Fillithar did not realize that being vastly strong in the Force, but untrained, and using a very complicated force power at this stage, was not a good idea. Because suddenly, he felt his coils lift off the ground as his tail, which held the other blade, scraped against the ground - he pulled too hard on the Force and pushed it too hard; it was enough to launch him forward like a child's hated Life Day toy. A muffled hiss in Fillithar dialect ((which if anybody could translate with the Force, found a colorful array of snake-related curses)) saw the snake whipcracking through the air as he flew. Or well, was thrown in one direction. Heading straight to a wall... the snake thought of the best way to do this as quickly as possible to avoid splatting into the wall.

So he came up with the dumbest idea imaginable.

Spinning his body like a top, and swearing to figure out the nausea problem later, snake-induced flight became a reality as the forty-three kilogram serpentine sentient suddenly began to just... whizz through the air at odd directions and angles of attack. Essentially, acting more like a spinning top then controlled flight, but hey, points to him for figuring out this mechanics of this unusually creative interpretation of Force Flight.

Managing to control his flight loosely enough to head in the generally vague direction of the opposing Aliyah, the frantic horizontal and occasional diagonal/vertical spinning saw an array of frenetic, absolutely seeming out of control (which they were, but he did his best to make it not that) slashes launched at her hands and torso in an effort to hit. The flying snake proceeded to finally slow down his momentum with this, as whether he hit or not, he flew past, scales catching on the ground and arresting his momentum.

The blue-scaled viperoid serpentine Sith Acolyte definitely looked a little green despite his blue coloration.

No.

He was definitely nausea-stricken, and as he turned to face towards her, the snake merely shook off the stars in his eyes - an opening for attack as he grumbled something out like... well, it was in his native dialect, but it translated as never doing this again.

Well, until he got the hang of it. Then flying may in fact prove to a viable combat strategy.

Aliyah​

 

[Akhuul Sautra]

Tags: Darth Caedes Diarch Reign Elmindra Xitaar Revna Lodd Grimmin Kyraj Naamino Zuukamano Leshanna Sssslik Aliyah Kai'lyn
Location: Spires of Kor'ethyr, Korriban
Equipment: In Bio
Objective: 2 - Observe the Dueling Pits Among the Masters

I was surprised that the others in this room took attention to my approach to the throne. A most pleasant surprise. Those who were at the throne mostly remained. However, were shocked at this brazen display. The man on the throne was most certainly the leader. I was sure of it.

As the others were saying their piece in relative retreat, the apparitions came down from the shadows. One of them taunted me in my people's tongue. I more curious than fearful, to be truthful. The difference was still the fact that my ancient android body keeps me safe from the concern of decaying flesh. I sensed the power from these wraiths, which furthered my curiosity.

Then the proclaimed "King" of Korriban spoke at last. I sensed the subtle challenge. However, my curiosity piqued when Darth Caedes spoke of the spirits of this world that preceded my birth on it choosing him. How he has rebuilt this world and did so to preserve my people's legacy.

Somehow, I was not disappointed. Finally there was a Lord with reverence and taking action accordingly in this age. As Darth Caedes finished his retort, I found myself laughing in satisfaction and audibly. The vocabulator let out this deep laugh while the glow within my chassis intensified. "You think I challenge your rulership, Darth Caedes? There is a reason I did not retake this world sooner, and it is not the barbarians from the Galactic Core.", I returned to the proclaimed King of my birth world. "Empires fall. Culture lingers.", I would then say in a flatter tone of voice. Had I lips of flesh, I would have been smiling most wryly. "It is little surprise your work on the world of my birth has yet to disappoint me. You are not Marka Ragnos, proclaimed King of Korriban. Yet, I am pleased with your efforts to preserve culture. With such efforts, Sith will remain Sith for future ages. Not cultists of destruction who seek gratification through carnage."

I would wait a moment to let what I said sink in before one last remark.
"You will receive no challenge of rulership from me, Darth Caedes. Play your politics. Posture your dominion with rivals. For such things, I care not. Only preserving my people's culture for your inheritance, and the inheritance of those who come after you all, is what I care for."
While true, I could not deny another drive. Aversion from boredom. Collecting artifacts was one way. Getting back at those Jedi barbarians would be another in due time. Perhaps some outings of striking terror into helpless masses could also be a bit of fun with my more active immortality? Such musings would keep calculating in my mind as information from my surroundings would also be processed.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

"Feck!"​

Naamino hissed as pain registered. Her stab was fierce and decisive, and it was only by the grace of whatever instinct took hold of him that he was able to deflect what otherwise would have been a duel ending blow. Still, Leshanna landed a score on his shoulder and in turn he made her pay for it with a slice of his own. The pain was immediate and he could already feel the way control over the affected arm had been lost. He gave a little silent snarl at the girl, brow furrowing as he took to his feet again, cantering a few steps backward so he could spare a glance at the limb which now hung limp at his side.

Commotion halted their fight momentarily, and though the zabrak kept his opponent in his peripheral, Naami couldn't help but pause to watch Darth Thaliax dole out swift corrective punishment. He took a sharp inhale of breath at seeing it, the might and responsibility of command. That was why he was here. To earn his place in power like that, to give orders and have them followed, to one day become the person imparting great wisdom and knowledge in decisive moments. And before all of that, he was here to serve the Sith as a soldier- and good soldiers didn't quit.

Suddenly he was animated with energy, hollering a wordless cry as he stormed toward his opponent with a lunge- faking a swipe at her sword arm then dipping to strike at her legs in a spin. The lamed arm swung in a weird limp semicircle and he struggled with not being able to balance himself with it but the swing was well executed regardless.

 

[Kivah]

The beast spun on her slashing with outstretched claws as it pulled its bleeding flank to safety. Kivah tried parrying with a dagger, and its talons stretched out past her blade to rake across her forearm. They shredded through the armored weave of her jacket like razors through flimsiplast. Despite that, the udyr biosuit protected her, and she dashed in with a growl of frustration. How much of her stuff was this thing going to ruin?

She went for a shoulder jab, stabbing into the skin where the Tuk'ata's scales thinned and shrunk for flexibility, before promptly being bowled over as it surged forward. Several hundred kilograms of monster knocked her to her back as it loomed over her, looking like it was dancing as it tried to stomp and pin her with its four feet. For a few frantic moments, Kivah rolled and thrashed violently to avoid being pinned in a rising cloud of dust around her. It stepped on her once, twice, each time its claws trying to dig into her fesh through jacket and udyr before she managed to get an angry jab up into the creature's gut. Bellowing, it jumped away, allowing Kivah to roll back to her feet.

Wary of her knives, it hadn't dropped its full weight on her while she was down. Still she knew that she'd have a wonderful set of bruises across her front in a short while. At least the helmet had kept her eyes safe and clear of the kicked up dust. Separated, they were circling again, and she was pleased to see the kit was doing fine with his own beastie. He blinded it and then opened up separation. What was he- "Rrrrreow?"

She smirked in understanding, Micah had guts. Asking to switch after she'd bloodied this one. "Rrrrowrr," she answered before she slashed at her Tuk'ata's face again and sprinted towards the steep rock face of the valley as it was rocking back to avoid her strike. She leaped atop a boulder and then to a rocky crag. Then in one smooth motion launched herself arcing back out over the fight.

Upside down and midair, she flung one of her knives at the one she'd been fighting as Micah's turned towards him. She wasn't an expert knife-thrower and didn't watch where the blade went. It was more a distraction and to free her other hand to take a double fisted reverse grip on the other long-bladed hunting knife. Kivah had grown up in the trees, running and jumping among the branches, and sometimes falling. It was something you learned how to do right pretty quick. As Kivah fell through the air, she angled her head towards her target, tucked in to speed her flip, added a little tail rotation juuuust so to line up. Vertical again, she stretched out with knees slightly bent. And slammed into the back of the second Tuk'ata to plunge her knife down with all her strength, weight, and momentum into the back of the creature. As she did, she twisted to pull it through the spine, only...

Pang!

The blade snapped and Kivah was suddenly very off balance and falling...

Zal Aditi Marcus Dinn The Scion Micah tol Powl Aramea Bel Naamino Zuukamano