The Mother of All Psy-Pires
Wearing: Progenitors Robes
Armed with Hundred Handed Giant
Objective: Duel
Dantooine was still well within the fringes of Sith Space.
By all logic, it would not have been wise to return to Sith Space. But after what she had been through recently, she was so horribly pissed at The Sith Empire for daring to harbor the Saaraishash Agent known as The Amalgam that she had embarked on a mission of vengeance, traveling The Galaxy on her own, refusing to be cooped up and in hiding on the Morpheus any longer, instead deciding to reconnect with her inner brutality.
The Arch-Psypire had stowed away aboard a vessel headed for Sith Space. Then she had begun to target Assets.
Unlike usual, where she spared the target she fed on, she had actively killed her targets after feeding. This was because The Arch-Psy-Pire's victims were Sith Inquisitors.
It had been a game of going world to world, stalking them, butchering them. But Nine was furious. She would have blood. She would see dead Sith and sow terror into the ranks.
In fact, she was just about to kill four that had been after her.
They had cornered her on Dantooine as she walked the grassy plains on a moonlit night. Four in total. Her katana was not yet drawn from its sheath. They were following her as she strolled along the grass, face concealed by a hood, her movement unnaturally flowing, due to how the robes hid the movement of her legs. The only thing that could be seen was the glowing purple dots at the center of her eyes. Her hooded kimono a dark green with white rose print patterns.
All she could really think about the past three weeks was extracting as much blood from the Sith as possible through sword attacks. But that did not mean she was surprised to be attacked when one of them finally leaped like a freak to do just that.
A former Consular and very, 'very' deadly katana fighter with a background in alchemy and magic, Nine had survived more ambushes than she cared to count.
It was a simple matter to dodge him, draw her katana in a swift, brutal motion, and cut him in two at the waist in mid-air. Her other attackers paused drew red blades as Nine wheeled around on them, shoulders hunching as she detected prey.
Her silver katana reflected their blades.
"Four? They send four assassins for me? Me?! I'm insulted..." she spoke in her nigh demonic contralto, pointing her sword at them.
"I warrant at least eight."
She sprinted just as they did, blade flashing as it moved to meet their blades.
Her every move, whether attacking or defending was crisp, efficient. No wasted motion. Their sabers struck at every limb, only to be fended off by a katana that gave off no sparks as it was struck. The attacks feinted, chopped, or stabbed when they made a mistake, few slices when made herding the enemies from fleeing.
In the past, she had been afraid to take on more than one saber duelist at the time, because in order to do that, you have to be the best of the best. But now, choked with hatred for the Sith, it gave her the focus she needed to push past that deficit, at least for the time being. Someday the old caution might return. But not when she was on the warpath.
A first mistake, arms shooting forward to try and hit her shoulder, and she dodged and cut off both his arms. The Sith screamed, spraying blood everywhere as Nine parried a saber from the second attacker into the ground, cutting open his neck with a follow up attack. The last one went into a deaperate flurry of Djem So,. Nine baited him into trying to execute Falling Avalanche, dodging to the side and impaling him through the gut after his first crushing attacks from above were parried. Though his wound was fatal already. Nine made his death that much more traumatic by just hitting him in the face until he had stopped breathing due to the face being caved in by repeat blows of her knuckles.
All four dead, The Psychic Vampire rose, deciding to continue her journey to a Sith Shrine to desecrate it as one more 'Feth You' to the Empire...
Little did she know, a more challenging opponent awaited...
Tarrik Kestis
Armed with Hundred Handed Giant
Objective: Duel
Dantooine was still well within the fringes of Sith Space.
By all logic, it would not have been wise to return to Sith Space. But after what she had been through recently, she was so horribly pissed at The Sith Empire for daring to harbor the Saaraishash Agent known as The Amalgam that she had embarked on a mission of vengeance, traveling The Galaxy on her own, refusing to be cooped up and in hiding on the Morpheus any longer, instead deciding to reconnect with her inner brutality.
The Arch-Psypire had stowed away aboard a vessel headed for Sith Space. Then she had begun to target Assets.
Unlike usual, where she spared the target she fed on, she had actively killed her targets after feeding. This was because The Arch-Psy-Pire's victims were Sith Inquisitors.
It had been a game of going world to world, stalking them, butchering them. But Nine was furious. She would have blood. She would see dead Sith and sow terror into the ranks.
In fact, she was just about to kill four that had been after her.
They had cornered her on Dantooine as she walked the grassy plains on a moonlit night. Four in total. Her katana was not yet drawn from its sheath. They were following her as she strolled along the grass, face concealed by a hood, her movement unnaturally flowing, due to how the robes hid the movement of her legs. The only thing that could be seen was the glowing purple dots at the center of her eyes. Her hooded kimono a dark green with white rose print patterns.
All she could really think about the past three weeks was extracting as much blood from the Sith as possible through sword attacks. But that did not mean she was surprised to be attacked when one of them finally leaped like a freak to do just that.
A former Consular and very, 'very' deadly katana fighter with a background in alchemy and magic, Nine had survived more ambushes than she cared to count.
It was a simple matter to dodge him, draw her katana in a swift, brutal motion, and cut him in two at the waist in mid-air. Her other attackers paused drew red blades as Nine wheeled around on them, shoulders hunching as she detected prey.
Her silver katana reflected their blades.
"Four? They send four assassins for me? Me?! I'm insulted..." she spoke in her nigh demonic contralto, pointing her sword at them.
"I warrant at least eight."
She sprinted just as they did, blade flashing as it moved to meet their blades.
Her every move, whether attacking or defending was crisp, efficient. No wasted motion. Their sabers struck at every limb, only to be fended off by a katana that gave off no sparks as it was struck. The attacks feinted, chopped, or stabbed when they made a mistake, few slices when made herding the enemies from fleeing.
In the past, she had been afraid to take on more than one saber duelist at the time, because in order to do that, you have to be the best of the best. But now, choked with hatred for the Sith, it gave her the focus she needed to push past that deficit, at least for the time being. Someday the old caution might return. But not when she was on the warpath.
A first mistake, arms shooting forward to try and hit her shoulder, and she dodged and cut off both his arms. The Sith screamed, spraying blood everywhere as Nine parried a saber from the second attacker into the ground, cutting open his neck with a follow up attack. The last one went into a deaperate flurry of Djem So,. Nine baited him into trying to execute Falling Avalanche, dodging to the side and impaling him through the gut after his first crushing attacks from above were parried. Though his wound was fatal already. Nine made his death that much more traumatic by just hitting him in the face until he had stopped breathing due to the face being caved in by repeat blows of her knuckles.
All four dead, The Psychic Vampire rose, deciding to continue her journey to a Sith Shrine to desecrate it as one more 'Feth You' to the Empire...
Little did she know, a more challenging opponent awaited...
Tarrik Kestis
