Dominion The Serpent's Den | (SO Dominion of Empty Hex)

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Strosius​

Even without the Force, the two of them worked in remarkable tandem. Experience had equipped them with a sense of opportunism, though they had yet to reach their full potential.

"Your blades tell more than a thousand words."

As she hounded Malum, Alisteri flew in to strike at her flank, and the Pale Assassin's blade quickly shifted to intercept as she stepped and pivoted to avoid being caught directly between them. Malum's opportunistic sweep met a flourish of black silk as a second bloodshine blade snapped to life and shifted his blade out of alignment and redirected the force.

"You are sloppy."

The flowing silk that had shrouded her parry against Malum smouldered as it flared and snapped with her swift movements. Her sabres bound with theirs gathering them close as their pressure bore down on her; the crimson blades were snapping, sparking, hissing like a den of vipers. Her sabres twisted and swiftly jerked as she sought to ram the handguards of her twinned blades into her apprentices' plasma beams, aiming to short them out with the silvery cortosis.

The tsaisibola, deftly avoided by Alisteri, now coiled and lashed out against Malum's heels with its venomous bite, either to wound or to herd him away from its master. Its active camouflage replicated the swirling smoke and dark stone floors, making the serpent difficult to pin down.

"Even now, you doubt yourself."

Had they truly taken on an opponent they could not defeat? Or was she simply sowing seeds of defeat in their hearts? As good as she was to obscure herself, even in plain sight, it was difficult to see if she was wounded or weary. Yet, the Pale Assassin knew, age never bought her more time in a physical confrontation.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Righting the Wrongs
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Darth Ophidia

As expected it wasn't easy to catch the Mistress of Assassins between the pair of them despite their quick movements, her own blades enough to hold theirs off and allow her to slip back before they could close in on her. Alisteri growled under his breath and decided to find a better angle for his next attack, pulling his blade back as she jerked hers forwards towards them.

He stepped around the thrusted blade, still trying to get on her flank, and swept his blade in a low slash towards her stomach. If he could get a solid hit to her side or even her leg then hopefully her movement would be hindered and she'd robbed of her swift movements. While she could dance around them as she pleased there was simply no way to hit her so they had to get her pinned and hope that she wasn't as adept at defending from two different areas at once.

Wearing her down was possible but given her experience it was far more likely that she would be able to exploit their mistakes long before they could do so with hers. While one swing went for her gut he tightened his grip on his broken sword and tried to stab it into her arm just above the elbow. Downing an arm would be just as good as hindering her movement, if not more so.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective: Doubting Paths Taken

"Then let each word be the chorus to the saga of your downfall." Both lip and mind announced through gritted teeth, his legs rapidly advancing forward, a losing battle to push on her exposed flank, beaten by her own rapid movements, as she kept both apprentices in her line of sight. They did not even have a moment of relief, of dramatic poise at the appearance of her second blade.

No, no.

The tempo of the song had changed.

But the song played regardless, unfeeling of the thoughts and wants of the listener.

It would have taken Malum aback, that and her biting criticism, so unemotional, so apathetic, simply in her mind curling the very facts which displayed themselves over her purview.

But it would not now.

Malum caught in the emotion of betrayal from both sides, of his betrayal, of being trapped in his mind as fate and destiny played out before him, the will of the Force, acting through them all, even when they were cut off from its hands.

And he... having no concern for the thoughts and opinions of the woman that would die at his hand.

Exploiting the moment of Darth Strosius ' attack, while his main blade was caught in a battle of hisses with its opponent, time seemed to slow, as his mind grew down into a heady spirit, focusing all his will on an attack that would end this deadlock, his second bore forth, hissing through the wind, aiming to simply wound, anywhere, to show she could be harmed.

To show she could be killed.

To wound her, to slow her down.

Yet it was he who would hiss, as silk would suddenly catch alight in beautiful flames that would end his attack in its infancy, forcing him back, as he gazed down upon his secondary blade, short-circuiting, almost gasping for mechanical breath as the cortosis rammed through its systems. He had been a true fool, to imagine that Malum's mistress would not use such tools to her advantage.

She had brought out every tool available to her without the powers of the Force on her side, and who knew if there was any more underneath the darkened cloak. Where Malum and Darth Strosius had intended to fight a caged and cornered lion, bound down by chains, dangerous still in its own right, but a far better prospect than one free in action.

The lion had proven every bit equal to the challenge, using the metaphorical chains, and all else at her disposal to counterattack.

They could both only hope to learn from that example.

His musings would be his downfall, as the tsaisibola camouflaged in the darkness that was its domain would take its opportunity.

Het let out a low groan, as he instantly felt the poison begin spreading from his feet to his leg, and soon the rest of his body. For the first time since the battle began, he could feel the amulet by his neck, for but a moment warm, before dying its cold death. The relic actively fighting the artefact to do its purpose, only to be held down and have its life choked out, as the artefact executes its purpose. Batting aside the serpent, an odd calm, even odder than that normally felt by the Forceless entity took hold.

"Even now, you doubt yourself."

Doubt? Did he doubt? Did he doubt, Malum?

The trapped apprentice said nothing.

He considered, it was possible, that an entity which held rationality as its sole vision, had every capability to doubt. Yet, was he doubting for irrational causes? Was this some trick employed by the Queen of Lies and Deceit?

At the end of the day, it mattered little.

His sole undamaged blade was raised to his nose, as his breathing calmed.

"There is no room for doubt now, after all, you seem to have given us a time limit." The poison flowed through his veins, as the breath released from his lungs.

The darkened spectre charged forward, his blade aiming to cut through all resistance, and end this.

End this before Malum died.

Darth Ophidia

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr​

They were relentless - Hounding her with their strikes and lashing out with their most devious tactics while the timer of threatening fatigue ticked on. One of her cortosis guards cut Malum's blade out of the action for now, but she could not count it out of the match yet. Cortosis was temporary, after all. The most secure way to end this would be to regain her power.

One of her blades angled itself into an odd parry, carrying Alisteri's cut into a new path as her blade wound around his. The distance between them shrunk as she darted in to close the distance between them, letting his broken blade land somewhere along her silk-clad arm. The fabric twisted and slipped, allowing some protection, but the metal still bit.

There was no room for hedging one's attacks in a fight to the death.

The strange block placed Alisteri's blade in the path of Malum's new charge, trying tow ard him off from closing the distance. She tried to slip behind her elder apprentice while, the second blade flashed at the Sangnir's neck in an attempt to decapitate him from behind.

Even without the Force, her speed was blinding fast, the motions of her hands precise and deadly. A lifetime of strife had sharpened her responses. From her youth in the fighting pits of Rattatak, to the blazing blitz of the One Sith, to the war of attrition against order upon order of Jedi.

The Pale Assassin was never known to drag out a fight of she could help it.

"Then fight like you mean it."

The tsaisibola, kicked off its path, slithered around the scene of the fight, seeking another chance at aiding its master. Its hiss echoed through the stills swirling smoke.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Righting the Wrongs
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Darth Ophidia

Again his broken sword did manage a strike, but not one that mattered as anything other than proof that he could indeed hit his master. More importantly Darth Ophidia expertly used his momentum against him, parrying his stab and moving in closer so that an easy counter was made difficult by the awkward positioning. Alisteri's own momentum was still pushing him forward and forcing his blade in the path of Malum's coming strike as their master slipped behind him with one of her blades raising up for a strike at him in turn.

Either he'd be skewered from both sides or his limp body would be a hinderance to Malum and neither of those possibilities were ones that he particularly cared for. Having to leave his broken sword behind in order to accomplish the movement without losing his head, Alisteri dropped down and rolled forward to be out of the path of the two incoming blades.

Only once he stopped did he feel the stinging singe of where his master's lightsaber had trailed from one of his shoulders down to the rough center of his back. Nothing debilitating yet but the brief moment before he swallowed the pain and gritted his teeth to stifle a hiss did mean that he was unable to move back in to intercept his master and Malum's clash. His hiss was not the only one to grace his ears however. His eyes snapped open as he heard something slithering around the dueling Sith, easily lost in the smoke.

Darth Ophidia may have been the main opponent but her little pet was still looking for a way to aid in their defeat it seemed. He wouldn't give it the chance. Getting back to his feet and gripping his lightsaber tightly his gaze and hearing swiveled as it searched for any sign of the serpent sliding through the smoke. "Hold for a few moments Malum, I won't be long." He had a snake to hunt.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

His remaining active blade clashed against Darth Ophidia 's lightsabre, as she was inches away from cutting Darth Strosius' neck clean off, though as was the Sangnir's won't, he had done his own utmost to escape the fate, barrelling out of the way of being skewered in half by both incoming blades, and instead allowing both blades to clash in a show of pure light as the plasma burned deeply against each other, looking for any fault, where none existed to burst through and mortally wound whoever stood opposite its arc.

"Do be swift, Darth Strosius ," He pressed down the blade further against Darth Ophidia's his eyes as dull as ever, but his lips, curving to a smile as forged as it was fake, "We only risk losing everything." The poison was still flowing freely through his veins, and already he could feel his foot begin to grow numb, if the goal was to tire Darth Ophidia out, they would need to move quicker, or Malum's body would certainly fail them first.

It was at that moment that his cortosis shorted-out blade flickered back into life, eyes flicking towards the reignited blade, there was no hesitation, as he swung it forward with all force, pinned as she was with one blade, if he could bypass the second, or at least put that too on the defensive.

It would be the route to his victory.

It was everything Jar'Kai had taught.

An overwhelming force from all angles, moving with daunting speed, keep striking, keep cutting, weaken the defence until it broke.

And then, they would triumph.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr​

Alisteri slipped from her noose with a deft, albeit desperate manoeuvre, clearing the path for Malum's assault.

The plasma of their blades screamed as they collided and ground into each other in a fight for dominant position. A fight in which Ophidia's two blades were slowly gaining ground. But the effect of cortosis was temporary, and Malum's second blade snapped into existence and roared into the fray, forcing the Pale Assassin to step back and beat his blades aside.

Her footwork was immaculate, retreating swiftly without collapsing the pressure that kept her assailant at bay. Still, she knew that being caught on the defensive while outnumbered was a death sentence. She had to regain the initiative.

As she stepped back, she bounced back into a lunge against Malum's chest, covering the assault of the one blade with the other. However, it was part of a ruse as the tip of her blade quickly dipped into a small, circular cut, aiming to circumvent the parry and cut his wrist, if he reacted as she believed.

Whether successful or not, the blades would then quickly shift purpose, as the left-handed blade took the offensive role and pressed with the threat of the tip. The delicate curve of her hilts. expertly crafted, made this style of pressuring through the point very quick, precise and effective. While the normal hilt required angling and tilting of the hand to align the tip, her bloodshine blades naturally aligned the tip with her hand and allowed quick manipulations of the fine plasma tip. Furthermore, her blades were subtly made to fit each other's weight and pattern of movement, making them two halves of a whole when she wielded them.

She had told them this when they studied their bladework. She had shown them the difference, but to experience it in the hand of a master of Makashi and Jar'kai was something else entirely.

The tsaisibola sensed that it was being hunted now. The intent of Alisteri had shifted from a passive watch to active search, and it triggered the serpent's instinct to use active camouflage. Scales shifted to fit with the colour and texture of the floor as it slithered quietly up along the decoration of one of the pillars.

Its instinct was to protect its master, but not to engage in a fair fight. In many ways, it was as trained an assassin as any in the Tsis'kaar. And as time had shown it, it was the most loyal.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Righting the Wrongs
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Darth Ophidia

The smoke obscured his vision whilst the duel just behind his back occupied his hearing, neither of which made his hunt for his master's serpent companion any easier. His lightsaber was held up and ready to slash out at the first sign of movement, both hands clenching around the hilt of the crimson blade. If he couldn't find and kill the serpent quickly then it would either do such to him or Malum could falter and be slain which would free up their master to do the deed herself.

:"High Priest we have an issue!": Alisteri hissed a curse under his breath as his masked gaze scanned the floor for any signs of movement amidst the smoke, idly switching his commlink on with a quick tap to his mask in order to answer his trooper. :"I'm a little occupied at the moment so make it quick soldier.": :"The artifact sir, it's starting to flicker! We're receiving confirmed reports of Sith regaining their connection to the Force along the outskirts of the fortress already!": His eyes snapped open wide. "Oh chit."

There was no way that it could be drained already, it had barely been active a few minutes! Had the enchantments and power not been stored as well as he had thought? Perhaps the sheer amount of Sith on the world were causing the field too much strain? He gritted his teeth together and reluctantly abandoned his search for the creature, fixing his gaze on where he could hear the duel still going on.

They had to end this now.

Without further delay, and cursing his own eagerness to search through the smoke, the masked man sprinted forward to rejoin the duel. He would emerge through the smoke in a lunge of his own, aiming a wide slash at his master's right side as he rushed into the fray once more.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Darth Strosius was taking too long, and no matter the fact that Malum and he had come this day with every intention, with every need to challenge their Mistress, having made plans, to entrap her in place. It was so plainly clear, that even now, graduated to knighthood, they were very much still the apprentices to their master.

But it still was Malum and Darth Strosius' role, their duty, to themselves, to an Emperor they had for sworn, and to an Empire that needed to stretch from the Outer Rim to the Deep Core.

All that could only be accomplished, themselves saved, the Tsis'Kaar saved, her teachings to survive, her legacy to exist beyond.

Only, if she was killed.

Only, if she was betrayed.

She did not make it simple though, not that any of them could have expected otherwise.

Where one might have hoped her sudden withdrawal signalled the initiative turning in their favour, one would have needed to be far more naive than even Malum was, even in retreat, she held the momentum, and the counterattack was even more vicious than the attack. She pressed them with pinpoint strikes, forcing the figure of Malum back, using the length of her blades to be as swift as it was ferocious, a viper's fangs unveiled over, and over, promising them harsh and intense pain if they made contact.

All one could do was retreat, pushed back further, blocks and parries only causing Malum's lips to hiss out, as the heat of the plasma grew too intense, as little by little, Malum's arms slowed, and a stray strike would make it past the guard, a mix of a groan and a shout, both involuntary heralded those moments.

They could not retreat forever, yet she gave them no opening, the poison working its way up Malum's leg slowed them further. Inevitability called, as the perimeter of the dark room beckoned, running of space to run, as she pushed him, further, and further back.

Something had to change.

And then it did.

Red orbs once dead, began to glimmer the colour of Malum's famous ancestor.

An amulet once dead, began to rapidly burn, burning out the poison in his system.

Emotions, turmoil, anger, and betrayal, were aflame around them, swirling around them like a tornado, once where there was nothing, a beacon scorched alone at midnight.

A blink.

And he breathed new life.

A solitary tear trailed his eyes.

"I am sorry," as he almost reached the end of the road, pushed to the limit, that entity that lived and had will that he hated, had come to save him. Willing it to his command, feeling its presence in the air when it had once disappeared, he fueled it, broke it, moulded it into new shape.

Darkness took form, and above him, a trident without base, three spears of midnight black formed, and without a word, he fired it forward, his peripherals spotting... spotting the one who had made him betray, about to again engage with...

...To the one whom he had betrayed.

Darth Ophidia Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr​

As the device that kept the influence of the Force at bay flickered, and the power that lay just out of their grasp flooded back into their boiling blood, a sense of destiny filled the room. Destiny, and a thrum of foreboding. Each clash of plasma, each step, and slash, and thrust exchanged between the master and her two apprentices, caused a cascade of fates to fracture and reform as the fate of the Tsis'kaar, and by extension, the fate of the Sith themselves, hung in the balance.

She had successfully pushed Malum back to his limit, and with some regret, but no hesitation, Darth Ophidia was ready to bear down on him one last time and end the most promising thread of the Line of Marr- If, that is, it was not for the timely intervention of Alisteri.

Late, perhaps, but just in time to halt the finality of her assault, his sweeping slash at her side forced the Pale Assassin to step and pivot off the line of attack. Her blade caught his and redirected it towards Malum, seeking to once more place the two combatants in each others' way. Another lesson she hoped they would learn:

There is no division between one's foes. Treat their attacks as though coming from a singular source, and it will not matter if they are one or a hundred.​

The second sabre was ready to launch into a fierce counterattack against Alisteri's flank when Malum's grasp on the Force returned long enough for him to gather the power of the amulet into three spears of midnight black. She sensed it, and retreated from Alisteri, seeking to avoid the deadly force, and hoping Alisteri was foolish enough to follow her into the line of fire.

Normally, she would have been faster. The black silk that draped her form obscured the injuries left by Alisteri's broken blade, injuries that kept her from moving just quickly enough. Her legs and upper body got out of the way, her right arm covering her retreat, and the left one lagged behind. The sorcery ripped through it as though it was air. Leaving the severed limb and one of her two sabres to fall to the ground with a spray of ink dark blood.

She did not scream, not audibly anyhow, but her pain made the thin flickers of the Force to ripple and shake like an earthquake, causing the windows of the room to crack and shatter, and battering the device with the sheer pain and hatred coalesced within her.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Righting the Wrongs
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Darth Ophidia

Alisteri's return to the fray was nothing short of frantic and hurried, his intervention to save Malum from being cut down more of a reaction as he dove back in to the duel than anything else. His strikes and movements were far from calculated or measured and as such the redirection of his blade to try and push him and the other apprentice was far more effective than it had been before, with the masked man stumbling for a few moments in order to avoid Malum before he moved in once again.

He could practically see their chance at victory slipping away as he felt the Force return to him, a rather grim dichotomy. Any amount of relief at having access to his power again was instantly overshadowed by the knowledge that their master would have hers once more in turn. She began to pull back and he didn't hesitate to pursue, too focused on making sure that his blade was held at the proper angle to defend against any sort of reprisal.

Even with adrenaline making up more of his body's circulation than blood the feeling of a spear carving through the back of his thigh in a glancing blow was impossible to ignore. Alisteri fell to one knee and hissed a curse under his breath, quickly raising his lightsaber to block what he knew would be an attempted attack on his wounded form. Only to see the very arm and weapon that he knew should be bearing down on him to fall to the ground, his master wounded yet seemingly no less eager to continue battling as tremors in the Force itself shook the fortress around them.

Time seemed to still as he stared down at the arm and the dark blood pooling from the section where it had been cleaved from the greater whole of Darth Ophidia. She was bleeding. She had been hurt. She could be killed. Memories of the past rose to the forefront of his mind as he felt her power wash over him, her authority familiar and one that had cowed him many times before.

He remembered when he waged war for the Sith Lords of the old Sith Empire, a war that they could only lose. A war that those same Sith Lords fled to save their own hides and powerbases. He remembered reconvening on Odavessa and reuniting with his master, only to watch in disgust and horror as she stood alongside the Worm Emperor, alongside Carnifex, alongside the very Sith that had destroyed the Sith Empire he had bled and seen so many die for. He remembered when she had sided with Empyrean and saw with his own eyes as she handed the throne of the Sith Order to him on a silver platter, never to strike him nor Carnifex down despite having the chance to do so.

Alisteri reached out and wrenched the still ignited sabre from his master's lost hand, his gaze turning to glare up at her as his own wrath curled within his form. He was still bowing before her even now in his current state. And she had bowed to so many in the past, never doing what needed to be done in order to secure victory for the Sith and rid them of their internal adversaries.

He would bow to her no longer. He would bow to no one.

With a roar, and ignoring the screaming pain in his leg, Darth Strosius leapt at the master of the Tsis'Kaar seemingly without any heed for the raw presence of power she exuded. Wielding her blade alongside his own he launched a fury of strikes that sought to capitalize on her being down a hand and thus down a weapon, strikes to probe and attempt to exploit any gap in her defenses in order to land a brutal blow. He would see her bow before him in the end, of that he was certain.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It was an ugly sound, a sound he had no doubt heard a multitude of times across various battlefields, but this time, without the sounds of battle around them, without the shouts of pain, with only the Force striking around him, the winds above them shattering, all could hear the grisly fleshy thunk as an arm ripped off the rest of the body, fell, splattering blood across the surface, of the darkened hall.

It was enough for him to hesitate, for but a moment.

She...

...Could be harmed.

Whether she had drawn first blood or not, whether she had pushed him to the edge of oblivion or not.

Whether he had consciously struck Ali or it had been accidental, gazing, upon the back of his thigh where one of his spears would have also struck his Mistress, if Ali had not advanced so far. Ali had betrayed him, had betrayed them all, he had forced them into this rebellion, and then he had made him negotiate the agreement... to betray her.

But had not the seeds of this rebellion been planted so long ago?

He had planted those seeds, that rainy night on Jutrand, personal ambition driving him to Darth Empyrean, his Emperor's side. The Emperor he had not chosen, but the Emperor his Mistress had ordered him to bow. Had that been it? Had a sense of obligation he did not even know of to guide his path, a sense of legalism, a sense of right?

No, he was no fool, to believe he was that controlled by some fragment in his mind, but the thesis was not wrong, simply... the cause.

Even now, he thought of one loyal, as he loyally followed his Mistress into rebellion and then if they survived this night, would loyally claim service to his Emperor.

For other events had taken place that night, self-aggrandisement, to seize his place as the champion of the Darth Marr, to have a Sepruchal priest as part of his household, to grow worthy to become greater than a simple acolyte.

Had not Darth Empyrean told him all this would come to pass?

Malum had agreed.

Agreed believing that future need not be considered, believing that the Emperor's reign would come to an end, and they would elevate a new Empress.

But there had been truth to his words had not there been?

Ambition.

Ambition... had brought the Tsis'Kaar close to annihilation.

And...

Ambition... would let them crawl back under his rule, despite all it took, despite all he had done, despite all the regrets he had brought himself to reach this point.

It was necessary for the future they needed to create.

A flash in the pan, and memories of the hot Archais sun barrelled down upon him.

Red eyes and golden hair.

He would never see her again, but for these memories, for all the memories he would make.

He could not fall.

Success or Death.

Coinciding with Alisteri's primal scream, Malum found strength returning to his feet as he rushed forward, keeping at the edge of this makeshift arena, making certain Alisteri would not be in his way, as she kept using them against each other, and extending out his lightsabre, he felt the Force swirl about him, invisible inky tendrils launching out of him, clasping onto her, and feeling her pain, feeling her suffering.

Their duel that day upon Fiviune had ended with his defeat.

Not today.

As of his lightsabre lightning spluttered awake, without thunder within a flash, at the speed of the light that made it manifest it struck out toward her.

And within seconds, his two blades would strike from the opposite direction of his Sangnir companion.

In the next few minutes, the fate of them, of the Tsis'Kaar, of the Sith.

Would be decided.

Darth Ophidia Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Strosius
​

The illusion of invulnerability was a simple, but powerful tool. She, and most of her peers, cultivated the lie of imperviousness as a simple form of defence. Whether that was to simply conceal any wounds they might sustain, or by distracting their opponent with a false target, its effectiveness was indesputable. However, one the spell was broken, the young men were all the more emboldened.

Darth Ophidia knew she had no time to languish over her lost limb.

If she paused but for a heartbeat, then she would lose far more than an arm. She would have approved at Malum's callous use of sorcery had it not been used against her. Still, in a silent part of herself, she approved. She would have preferred to fight only one for succession, but it would seem they were determined to share her demise. Time would require them to turn their blades against one another as well.

Yes, she could still set her plans to life.

She could work through them.

She rushed backwards as her single sabre flashed into a strained, yet effective defence against the barrage of their four sabres. It was enough to simply hold them back, to lure them in. As Malum's tendrils of Force gripped out against her, so did tendrils of hers' flash out against the two of them, seeking to sap their strength and halt their use of the Force. The clock ticked faster now - Her severed arm still bled, she would have to set it all up quickly.

Her retreat halted as their sabres came clashing in from either side, and she took a quick step forward. A thrust of the Force, borne from the forward movement of her entire body sought to push the two of them back with immense force - The full, unadulterated power of a Dark Lord washing out against them. The very stones beneath them cracked and shifted, and the stone pillars strained to stay aloft.

As the Force thrummed around them, shadows darkened to void-like pits, and the darkness began to whisper. Memories of days past, echoes of times that weaved the web leading to this moment. In the dark recesses of the room, it seemed as though time began to unravel, and the netherworld bled in. Soulless faces carved into the inky blackness stared out, reaching just to the edge of shadow, but no further.

They sensed fate in the air.

They spelled death.

Darth Ophidia, the Pale Assassin, the Queen of Shadows, the Tsis'kaar and Dark Lord of the Sith herself, seized hold of her own life essence, and sharpened it like a spear.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Righting the Wrongs
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Darth Ophidia

He could almost admire how capably Darth Ophidia was handling herself, down an arm with only one blade and yet she was weathering an assault from both himself and Malum at once. Almost. Given that such a defense was keeping him from his moment of victory any possible sentiments of awe were quashed beneath the raging inferno of wrath that empowered every swing he made, each one aiming to cleave into the Queen of Shadows. Even if it weren't a direct fatal hit he'd settle for simply mauling her with a flurry of strikes until she was in multiple pieces.

Before Darth Strosius could find a better way to press the advantage that he and Malum held over their opponent however, she lashed out with something other than just her lightsabre. Dark tendrils battered against his blades as well as her own, forcing him to somewhat slow his assault as he had to defend himself from them. What exactly they were and how they worked were a mystery to him, but evidently not to Malum based on his own usage of them, but he most certainly didn't intend to let them touch him.

Darth Ophidia and the Heir of Marr could utilize their fancy tricks all that they liked, all that mattered in the end was who got struck down by one of their crimson blades first. He intended to ensure that it wouldn't be him on the receiving end. The masked man could feel the unbound power of the Pale Assassin, the very fortress around them quaking in its wake, but despite the great gap that he knew would exist between them he felt no fear.

Fear was for underlings, fear was for the weak, fear was for Jedi. And Darth Strosius was none of the three. He was not the heir to a great Sith legacy, nor was he a veteran Sith that could rival the rulers of the Order themselves, he was better. As he cut at the tendrils the memories of the chains binding him in that wretched little closet onboard that pirate ship, when the Force had first heeded his call and allowed him to shatter those bindings. Before him stood another such binding with a blade in hand, and as he carved and slashed he began to see the weak links and flaws in both them and their summoner.

He was so much better than those born into power and now it was time to prove it.

Darth Strosius began making more surgical and methodical slashes, disabling and cutting down the tendrils in a far more efficient manner almost as quickly as they could assail. He kept hacking his way forward until finally, for the briefest of moments, no darkness nor weapon was between one of his blades and his former master. Without hesitation he dove forward, seeking to drive her very own lightsaber through her heart.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

This was the gap between a Sith Lord and mere Sith Knights he realised, the gap between one whose age had transcended back to the era of the One Sith, and a mere scion that was born as the previous empire, and a soldier who had fought to the bitterest end to preserve that empire. Four red lightsabres blustered and burned against one, and it was the one that was made victory each and every time.

She was fast.

But that much was proven far before this battle had begun.

The tides had turned against her certainly, but the currents were unpredictable in their path, it would only take a singular moment, a lost second of thought for one of them to be struck down, and the waves to turn about-face.

His energy was rapidly fading, with every swing, his lightsabres grew heavier, and every movement forward, ever forward, his feet stung with the clamminess and pain that signalled an imminent collapse. He was being drained, and her own Consume Essence using him as the fuel reservoir as his older co-apprentice fought through them like they were invasive vines.

His own Consume Essence, feeding off her with reckless abandon, a ravenous hunger, was all which maintained any equilibrium.

This had to end now.

She denied him that, his lightsabre's desperate motions cut through the inky tendrils, only for the ground beneath his very feet to betray him, the great cacophony as enough force pressed against rock that it shattered entirely. Flinging him with tiny stones back against the wall, leading out a great groan, as his spine felt the agony impacting his back, as through bleary red eyes, he could even have imagined that the solid pillars were bending under the strain.

As through the dust kicked up by his Mistresses' newest move.

He felt a chill in the air.

The presence which he felt his entire life, the Force which strummed through all which had life, sang greater now in its sombre melancholy, darkness coloured his vision, voices he did not recognise whispered around the rapidly deteriorating room, voices that he did not recognise, voices which he... knew had to be dead.

Masks, faces, and eyes, peered through the shadows, those which no longer existed in the materium, if they ever had, as a shrill whistle accompanied the colder wind. They became mere actors on a stage, made to be witnessed by those he did not know. His eyes turned inwards, as through a skull which did not belong to him... he began to... see, visions that were not his.

Visions that belonged to... who?

Death itself was making itself manifest in the room.

Yet whose death had still not been decided.

The Force itself now demanded an answer.

And peering through the darkness, through the dust.

As Malum saw, in seeming slow motion, as Alisteri had finally broken through the wall, charging forth as history was made before them all.

Malum knew.

He let out a low hiss, as wavering knees stood upright against the wall.

He was not a mere spectator.

The darkness was pulled towards him with such intensity that light glimmered through gaps, only to be smothered underneath once again, through every inch of his form, the darkness began to make home, flowing up his fingers, flowing up his hand and arms, through the veins, even his heart was growing black with tar and mud.

One moment, he stood against the wall.

The next.

A great snap broke through the air, as the young body twisted through the room, bent across in such a speed that time did not allow.

As the lightsabre still desperately gripped in his hand.

Aimed to cut off a Dark Lord of the Sith's head.

Darth Ophidia Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr​

In the autumn of her years, Darth Ophidia had spent a lot of time picking at the scab of time. The dark side of the Force was a pathway to many things that seemed inconceivable to the average mind, and some things that even the Sith themselves only dared dream. Many had sought mastery of time, either by seeking immortality, or by conquering the crux of time and fate. Some sought to slow down time itself. And in this moment, as her two apprentices bore down on her with lethal intent, Darth Ophidia could see time unravel before her.

She felt her hand caress murals in a quiet farewell.​

A knife gliding through death as one life was traded for another.​

The stab of a needle in a place where the forgotten slept

A thousand clashes of lightsabers flashing all around her. Rattatak. Knives and fists, and flesh and blood.​

Teaching her first apprentices, now lost to time. The beginning of dark experiments. The swish of a white dress stained with blood.

Her feet dashing through over sand as venom coursed through her veins. Frantic attacks, and warm blood on her skin.​

Time stretched in that moment on Fiviune, as she could see the entirety of her life before her in the flash of the lightsabres. Her body could not break with the flow of time, but her mind had shed its shackle. The memories began to echo in the shadows, told by the lives she had ended.

She stood behind Carnifex, sabre in hand. Weighing her time, her chance.

A skill of arms passed down in the end times of an Empire.​

A name whispered through time eaten.​

In the mirror of the past, she saw how the ripples of causality spread through the universe, and caught glimpses of the paths ahead. There were paths where she lived and fought on, and paths where they all died. But what is one life against the creed of the Sith? What are two or a thousand? There was a path where she saw herself on the broken throne of the Sith, but with nothing but ashes at her feet as their order lay in ruins, like those scattered in view of her fortress there on Fiviune.

It was in that split second, when Strosius thrust her own sabre at her heart, and Malum snapped into existence with his sabre slashing for her neck, that she saw the path. Her own sabre flashed as time set back in motion. She twisted, turning to parry Malum's blow and seemingly avoiding Strosius' thrust by a fraction of an inch. At her peak, she could have sent Malum's wide sword arc into Strosius and pierced Malum's chest herself.

But she was not fast enough.

Strosius' thrust caught her through the right side of the chest as her blade collided with Malum's. Malum's blade pushed through her parry, and buried itself into her left clavicle. The two apprentices left face to face, their master between them. Her second sabre fell to the floor heavily as she reached her remaining hand out to the darkness,

"This is my last lesson for you two; this is the truth, whole and unfiltered:"

Her hand clawed the darkness before it turned to touch each of her apprentices in turn. Her voice was softer, older, older than her ashen face portrayed.

"Two there shall be, and only two. A master and an apprentice; one to embody the power, and one to crave it."

Her essence, torn in two, travelled through her words, through her will, through the weapons that pierced her and the shadows that surrounded them. A deathly silence cut the air as she drew a final breath and closed her eyes.

"Everything else is an illusion".

The body of Maica Pec fell from the blades, as though the shadows below them reached up and pulled her down. Her body cracked and broke to fine ash as the last breath left her lungs. Yet something remained of Darth Ophidia, bound to the two of them.

Success or Death.

In death, Victory.