The Art of War

[Darth Abyss]

Obroa-skai, Sophistication

It was an odd place for what would take place here soon, but Abyss was a fairly odd man in the eyes of many. He had challenged another lord of the sith to a duel, not one for dominance and titles, but one simply to test the skills and growth of two powerful beings in the way that was most sacred to the sith. Blades would cross, and reality would be lifted from its limits by the force, so two men could see where their limit was. It would be a fascinating sight to see, it would be art, but sadly no one besides the two sith lords themselves would be there to see it.

The art gallery was empty besides the hooded figure of Darth Abyss, which had cleared out the place with his trademark talent for brainwashing, so he and [member="Krest"] would have all the room, time and privacy to measure their powers against each other. Abyss calmly walked between the exhibits, all belonging to a new exhibit called "Faces of History - A personal view into the Past." Each wall of the gallery was filled with portraits of important men and women of the galaxy's history, ranging from Emperor Palpatin and Darth Vader over to Yoda and many more rather prominent Individuals in the main slots, and pictures of equally important, yet less known figures like Grand Admiral Thrawn, Darth Malak, or Obi Wan Kenobi. One entire corridor had been dubbed "The path of the Skywalkers" and showed the entire known line of the Skywalker family, the men on the right, the women on the left.

With a chuckle he crossed the picture of Revan, officially drawn by a men called Anton Zadane, a Tattoine based artist famed for his pictures and unique style who had died a year ago. The chuckle was due to a very small detail, a hint of red paint in the "A" of Anton, which in fact was no paint but blood. Blood that did not belong to the man the picture was awarded to, but to the man who was looking at it in this moment. It was a small, secret accomplishment of his own, one that made him feel a bit of pride for once, as he had managed to deceive numerous Art experts across the galaxy. Turning around, the hooded figure was framed by the mask of Darth Revan, as the sith lord awaited his opponent under the watchful eyes of those that had shaped history.

 

[Darth Ferus]

A museum of ancient history. It was just that to the Zabrak as he stepped into the halls. Names of famous people, all powerful in their own right, all worth knowing of. But not immortalizing in such a dull way. Exhibits of Sith, how pointless. How insulting. Part of the Lord wanted to rip down all of it, but that didn't matter. No, the only reason War had come to this planet, to this place, was because of Famine.

The hilt of a lightsaber rested in his hand as he walked down through the displays, his eyes forward on the cloaked figure of [member="Darth Abyss"] , framed by the mask of another long dead legend. "You've always had a flair when it came down to a fight. Why this place, out of curiosity?"

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Art is a passion of mine."

The edges of mouth twitched for only a second, as he spoke but they returned to its cold, stoic expression before it was really noticeable. As a sith lord with a small empire in the shadows, he rarely found the time to enjoy art as much as he would've liked, and with having this fight happen here he could combine two things he enjoyed into one.

"Shall we begin?"

The hilt of his saber jumped into his right, and the crimson blade appeared to illuminate the picture behind him into dim, red light. He held the weapon loosely in his hand, pointing to the ground instead of the classical makashi salute to open up the fight. Yet he simply stood and waited, as he rarely made the first move in a fight.

"It is a really a shame that many of those pictures will not see the next day."

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"For a man who enjoys art, it seems almost foolish to pick this as a battleground." In response to [member="Darth Abyss"] 's activation, the hilt in Krest's hand sprang to life, it's red blade giving off it's wonderfully gruesome hue. The hint of a smile formed on the Zabrak's lips as he watched the salute, knowing all too well who had shown Abyss the form he had chosen to use. The Pale. Always finesse. But finesse had it's weaknesses.

Normally War would wait until his opponent moved, but he knew that Abyss too would wait, and the pointless stand off would get this no where. So without delay the red man charged forward, letting the Force flow through his body to increase his speed, and sharpen his focus. Each step pushed him forward faster then the last, until his form would be a blur to move. But to a Lord, he would still be seen.

And being seen was what he wanted. Just before he reached his foe Krest leaped, closing the distance in a fraction of a second to bring his blade down in a single handed overhead strike. This was nothing but a distraction however, for as he jumped his free hand would reach to one of the nearby displays, and he would bring his hand from it to Abyss, sending the heavy replica of Bane's armor for Famine. He wanted to close the distance, where the advantage was clearly his, and catch the younger off guard. There was no taking it easy.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"All things must pass, even art. Beauty lives in the moment, not in eternity."

He was a second to slow. While his blade caught that of the red assassin with ease. It took him a second to realize that he shouldn't be able to do it so easily, as Ferox was a notorious blademaster. The the replica of the armor crashed into his body, pushing all air out of his body and sending him into a stumble to his left. Yet it toom him only a moment to find his balance again, returning into a solid stance only seconds after thr armor hit the ground besides him. It had been a surprising and painful hit, but one that left no real damage on his body. Now it was his turn.

Keeping his blade in vertically in front of his face with his right, he began to slowly circled towards his left side, seemingly looking for an angle or opening from another position. At the same time his left wandered subtly to his back, pulling the pin of one of the grenades there. If he had calculated it right, it would go of as soon as the red would make his next move. The small device was a weapon of his own design, and instead of exploding, it would instead fill the room both with smoke and with darkness, as it was loaded with both a smokescreen, which was especially effective in closed rooms like this one, and a light absorbing cell which used electromagnetic fields to bend the light around it.

He continued his circle, waiting for his opponents attack, keeping his blade ready to block the next strike send at him. Once the grenade would go of he would've to deactivate the weapon to hide his position, but he would've to keep it on until that moment would come.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

And there it was. When the armor hit [member="Darth Abyss"] Krest had made his opening. He did not wait for his fellow Lord to regain his footing. Did not give him time to find balance or even retrieve a grenade. No, Abyss should have learned from fighting Ferus all those years ago. Krest was there, his lightsaber above his head and slamming downwards on the stumbling lord. There was no moment of rest unless Abyss made one, and Krest would teach him that at every given moment.

 

[Darth Abyss]

Again the black caught the blade of the read, using the strengths of form to to redirect it to fall down besides him, while pulling his left foot back. If that was how the bladmaster intended to play it, then Abyss wouldr follow, allowing him to live in his illusion of superiority a bit longer. By now he had found his balance again, but he hadn't been able to reach for the grenade on his back. Keeping his weapon in a defensive stance, he relocated his weight on his left foot, ready to defend and retreat as long as he could.

Arrogance was a helpful tool to keep an opponent in check, and while Ferox had worked hard for his right to feel and be stronger than most, it was still arrogance in the end. It was a game on time, as even the most skilled warriors could make mistakes, leave themselves open for an attack, or fail to see the situation from the right perspective. That was the difference between the two men, [member="Krest"] was a warrior to the core, while Abyss viewed himself more as an tactician than as a soldier. He had options that the red had not, and he would use them at the given time.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Defense. That's what his opponent had chosen to stick with. Blocking and evading what he could, waiting for a chance to strike back. To find an opening and exploit. Krest wasn't about to let that happen. He kept close to [member="Darth Abyss"] , cutting at him with smaller strikes, nothing like how he would normally attack. There was no overwhelming strikes of pure and raw power, but quick, light, fast jabs and cuts similar to any Makashi user.

That was the distraction, yet again. As he cut out with the mechanical arm holding the lightsaber his free had was at work, manipulating the Force. The Force would grasp around the Black's anckle to trip him up and send him to his back. Everything the Zabrak did was to overpower his foe.

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss felt the grip around his ankle, but he didn't really fought it. Ferox had throw a number of rather untypical strikes at him, and he had not yet found the time to evaluate this switch of style enough to react accordingly. He was a master of swordplay so it wasn't so spectacular that he could pull moves from all forms, but it was a pattern he had not seen before. Instead of reacting he would continue his play, and see where it would lead him. He had enough aces up both his sleeves to retaliate to a dangerous attack quickly and effective, but he still waited for he right moment.

His greatest strength in this moment, besides his talent for acting, was the fact that [member="Krest"] was well aware of Abyss lack of skill with a saber, so his more than mediocre performance wasn't overly unbelievable. Even if he would know that Abyss kept something ready, he wouldn't be able to guess what exactly. The element of surprise was a quite useful tool against a more skilled enemy.

He stopped his fall with his left, as the red blade in his right feel to the side besides him seemingly due to his lose of balance. His body was still facing the red, but he had no saber in his hand anymore, and his left which was notorious for the many tricks it had pulled in his duels was occupied with keeping his body of the ground. From an outside perspective it could easily look like he was already unarmed and beaten by a superior adversary.

 

[Darth Ferus]

With his saber in hand the Zabrak thrust the red blade our for the fallen form of [member="Darth Abyss"] . He knew there was something wrong, he could feel it in the whispers of the Force, but he couldn't stop now. Couldn't afford to give Black a moment to plan and plot. The thrust was final, meant to puncture the heart of his comrade and fellow lord of the Sith. To hesitate would be an insult, and to hesitate would cause his own loss.

Yet even as he struck down with his one handed strike Krest kept his other hand up, trying to prepare for what ever trap he had just unleashed.

 

[Darth Abyss]

As the thrust came down on him, Abyss acted quick. His right reached for something behind his right shoulder, where the slightest glimpse of a sword hilt could be seen. In one fluid motion the sith lord pulled the weapon out of its seath while whispering a single word. The runes on the blade emitted a short blue glow, as the sword was swung at Ferox sword arm, not to stop the blade but to cut of the hand completely. Yet for [member="Krest"] it would seem like the weapon was simply a blur that masked exact angle and position of the blade, as the sith magic imbued in it was able to bend the light around it.

The blade was a design by Abyss tailored to fight those skilled with a blade. What he lacked in raw combat capability was balanced out with a creative, and probably unique weapon. The trick would certainly get old with time, but it was something Abyss himself had never seen or heard of before, so he hoped that it would catch his enemy completely of guard.