Fallen Phoenix
First Bank of Coruscant
Coruscant
As staff and security alike were disoriented and blinded by the flash-band grenade his master had let loose on them, the Ashborn stepped forth while igniting both his wrist-mounted lightsabers, two crimson sources of light in middle of the ensuing chaos. With loyal Skydd safeguarding his Queen, he was free to exact mayhem on those inside. Taking a few steps was all that was required to reach the closest security officer - one of many to fall - and as the man's legs were removed from under him he fell to the floor unable to scream because of the initial shock. As the occasional shot was fired by the guards, Thyrian reacted to their actions with precision and brutal force, tossing one man aside with a surge of the Force so that his skull cracked against the concrete wall, while another he pulled an arm from its socket with his great strength. They were mere sacks of meat to him, unable to stand against even the most novice of Sith. "I KNOW A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY WORTHY OF MORE RESPECT!" he roared as he split another guard's torso from his hips with a combined strike using both his blades.
The boy he mentioned was, of course, his newly found little brother by the name of Sin Lykos; his closest connection to his humanity, although how would the boy react knowing of the savage bloodshed his older brother caused this day? Would he feel happy, respectful, digusted, sad? The thought lingered only for a brief second within the mind of the Ashborn, as he now was consumed by the dance-of-death, the crimson mist. It was almost intoxicating, taking another man's life, doubly so doing it for the one he loved. Her smile was all he needed to conquer galaxies, let alone ending the life of another. Once the immidiate opposition had been dealt with, Thyrian gave the all-clear for his master and Skydd to enter the large room, along with a nod towards Davin, the newest addition to Kära's legion of apprentices. The boy was not even in his twenties, and already a skilled marksman and accustomed with the sight and dealing of death - an admirable feat in the eyes of the Ashborn.
@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"] @[member="Davin"]
Coruscant
As staff and security alike were disoriented and blinded by the flash-band grenade his master had let loose on them, the Ashborn stepped forth while igniting both his wrist-mounted lightsabers, two crimson sources of light in middle of the ensuing chaos. With loyal Skydd safeguarding his Queen, he was free to exact mayhem on those inside. Taking a few steps was all that was required to reach the closest security officer - one of many to fall - and as the man's legs were removed from under him he fell to the floor unable to scream because of the initial shock. As the occasional shot was fired by the guards, Thyrian reacted to their actions with precision and brutal force, tossing one man aside with a surge of the Force so that his skull cracked against the concrete wall, while another he pulled an arm from its socket with his great strength. They were mere sacks of meat to him, unable to stand against even the most novice of Sith. "I KNOW A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY WORTHY OF MORE RESPECT!" he roared as he split another guard's torso from his hips with a combined strike using both his blades.
The boy he mentioned was, of course, his newly found little brother by the name of Sin Lykos; his closest connection to his humanity, although how would the boy react knowing of the savage bloodshed his older brother caused this day? Would he feel happy, respectful, digusted, sad? The thought lingered only for a brief second within the mind of the Ashborn, as he now was consumed by the dance-of-death, the crimson mist. It was almost intoxicating, taking another man's life, doubly so doing it for the one he loved. Her smile was all he needed to conquer galaxies, let alone ending the life of another. Once the immidiate opposition had been dealt with, Thyrian gave the all-clear for his master and Skydd to enter the large room, along with a nod towards Davin, the newest addition to Kära's legion of apprentices. The boy was not even in his twenties, and already a skilled marksman and accustomed with the sight and dealing of death - an admirable feat in the eyes of the Ashborn.
@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"] @[member="Davin"]