Too Many Masks

[Darth Ferus]

Oricon. Home of the Dread Masters. Sith who went beyond Sith. Who used the fear of mortals to corrupt and destroy the minds of those around them. They were aptly named, for all they did was inspire dread to friend and foe alike. They had once been locked away for many years, unable to be truly killed. But, they were. After their escape, they were hunted down by those they 'considered' allies and foes alike, and not a single Master was left alive.

Ferox stepped out onto the forsaken world, and instantly a shiver ran up the Sith's spine. Fear was still thick in the air, even after the thousands of years it had been since their slaughter. It was as if their ghosts still haunted. They probably did, and such a thought did little to ease the Blademaster's mind. The physical was what he knew, not the psyche.

The Lord wasn't alone. Not on this planet of course. [member="Darth Lykos"] , the new leader of the Sith Assassins and fellow Zabrak, was to meet him upon the surface. Here, the pair was to find the coordinates to a relic that would prove most valuable to the Assassins as a whole. Upon seeing his fellow Sith, Ferox would speak up in a rather casual tone.

"Can't say I'm a fan of this place. Gettin' under my skin, y'know?" His voice was thick, gruff after all the years. Ferox was getting old now after all. On his hip laid his massive pistol, and opposite was of course his sword. A tribute to an age gone by, and one he found more enjoyable than the typical Sith Sword or Lightsaber. Hopefully he wouldn't have to use either here.

"What's the plan?"

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Approaching the form of Ferox, a man once known to Xavka as Ferus, Xavka was clothed as he usually was. That is to say that a dark cloak wrapped around his form entirely, its many folds forming a cocoon of dark cloth that meant that nothing beneath was revealed, no signs of a weapon nor any hint to the Iridonian's physique. Unusually for him, though, was the fact that the cowl of the cloak was lowered, freely exposing his features for, even if he did sometimes reveal his face, he had never done so without having the hood drawn at the beginning. As such, illuminated by the glow that came from nearby lava pools, the crevices caused by the numerous scars that littered his face, some from torture from the time that he was a slave and some from fighting, were easily visible, just as the empty and disformed right ocular socket was. Xavka's usually ashen grey hair had taken on a dull yellow hue from the light reflecting off of the rocky ground even as it was still worn in dreadlocks that were woven around his horns.

Stopping just a scant few meters from Ferox, Xavka couldn't help but sight before speaking; low, rumbling growls and harsh syllables dropping from his lips as the language he spoke in was not Basic but Ul'Zabrak. "Must you be so flippant, Ferox? We are transgressing upon the ground transformed by the Dread Masters' rage, please show some caution." Much like Ferox's voice, Xavka's was gruff and deep but, in his case, that gruffness, that gravelly-ness came from both something he had been born with and a long scar that wrapped around his neck, deep enough that the vocal folds were suffering from scar tissue.

Sighing slightly, Xavka would continue to speak. "From what information I could find, we are looking for a small Temple, nothing big, somewhere 1 klick that way." His arm would come up to point, causing the sleeves of his cloak to fall away and reveal the dark black, dull meal of his cybernetic arm. "The plan, as you so ask, is move quickly. It's as simple as that, I have no wish to be here long." Compared to other situations, Xavka's speech in this moment was more casual, however, even so, beneath the folds of his cloak, his muscles were tense and ready to act - no where near as relaxed as his speech made his appear to be, not that the evidence of such could be seen.

Nodding slightly to Ferox, Xavka immediatley turned to start walking, long strides carrying him across the harsh terrain. He had spoken the truth to Ferox, he did not wish to linger long.



[member="Darth Ferox"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Must you be so dramatic, Lykos?" A light tease. With such a heavy place, he couldn't help but try a bit of friendly banter. Not that it really helped. A frown formed on his lips as an unsettling feeling washed over him. Was he being watched? No, nothing alive would dare come here. Well, he and [member="Darth Lykos"] had, but that's different. Right? Shaking his head he moved after his fellow, keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"One klick huh? Not too bad of a journey, though. A small temple? Any reports of Sithspawn guardians?" It was a common sight to see Sithspawn of varying shapes and sizes guarding a tomb, especially one with a powerful artifact within. Sith were pretty stingy when it came to their items. Or was it to test the worthiness of those who would try and claim what they had made? Paranoia on what it might be started to settle within the Zabrak's mind.

Was this the power of the Dread Masters?

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Turning his head to address Ferox's concerns, Lykos spoke with a clipped tone and sharp voice even as he carried on with his quick pace. "No, no reports of Sithspawn guards. It is odd, I admit, but it very much looks like that the Temple is devoid of all life in all context, even artificial. Keep your guard up, Ferox, keep alert. This situation is a matter of concern." Falling silent once more, the Assassin continued on his way, bare feet picking their was across burnt and hellish land. As he carried on with his quick pace, a shiver would run up the Zabrak's spine, a sense of dread and the feeling of being observed spearing through his mind. Even without the feelings he was experiencing, Xavka was wary, for the exact reason he had just spoken to Ferox about. Barely any Sith would leave their treasures unguarded and unprotected, the fact that there had been no signs of any guards at any point - even droids - when he had peered through the Force at the planet unsettled him.

As Xavka had hoped, it did not take the pair long to come across the Temple. Short and squat, the structure was comprised of a large series of stone slabs that formed a pyramid shape, but without the point. Set dead center of the side the two Sith were approaching from was a slight outcropping of carved stone that formed a small structure of a flat roof and pillars holding it up, it barely being seven feet high. Carved on every inch of the stone were runes, many of which Xavka could not even hope to gleam an understanding, many of the arcane letters being lost to the sands of time, the knowledge of the meanings and purposes lost.

Approaching the Temple, his pace slowly slightly, the feelings and shivers piercing through him began to heighten in strength, causing Xavka's head to whip around as if to try and perceive what was not truly there. Stepping underneath the small, outcropping structure, Xavka's hand would reach up and push against the stone doors that blocked the entrance, causing them to slowly grind open. Casting a quick look back at Ferox, Xavka continued forwards on silent footsteps, slipping between the opening between the doors.

The interior of the Temple was barren; no decoration, only a rune lined hallway that lead ever deeper. Following along the path set before him, Xavka soon emerged into a large, open area within the center of the structure. The room reached from the base of the Temple to the very top, where there was a solid roof lined with artificial lights that flickered on upon Xavka's entrance. Walkways lines the upper levels, extending out from the walls of the room, leaving the very center empty. Off to his left and right were a set of stone stairs and, in the middle of the room, was what Xavka had come to seek, a small pyramid of metal that glowed with an inner light, the Datacron that held the coordinates he sought after.

Striding forwards with his senses, both physical and those granted by the Force, stretched out and wariness burning within his chest, Xavka approached the Datacron with caution, his biological right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Just when he was a meter away, his senses screamed danger to him but, before he could react, it felt as if a physical force had impacted his chest before seeping into him and winding its way around his brain. The orange eye of Xavka began to glow a deep crimson as he began to draw his blade, his back still towards Ferox.


[member="Darth Ferox"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"More concern than you know. I imagine there's something that will mess with our heads. Deep fears, mood swings.." The elder began to trail off as he spoke, and eventually fell silent on their journey forward. He would walk beside [member="Darth Lykos"] , never once letting his hand leave the hilt of his blade. The unsettling feeling he had felt earlier was only getting stronger and stronger the closer they got.

It was within the temple, just before the holocron, that the world darkened. Thick shadow quickly took over the features of Xavka, the room, everything. The Zabraks brow furrowed as he stared where his ally once was. There, where Xavka once stood, the shadows cracked, burned. Fire formed, spiraling out and taking shape. As it spiraled, familiar shapes began to form, and with it the Zabrak growled.

The burning figure that formed before him was none other than Darth Vulcanus. The Graug Lord, the Sith of Fire, Lava. And Ferox's master. A grin formed on the figures face, taunting. A roar escaped Krest's throat as he pulled his blade free, letting the green saber extend. Blue eyes turned blood red as he leapt through the air, bringing the blade down in a feverish assault on his hated foe.

Yet, in reality, he was striking at Xavka himself.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Whereas Ferox saw the vision of his Master, no such clouding of his senses nor manipulation of his senses affected Xavka. Instead, the effects wrought upon his brain were of an emotional sort, as paranoia and anger ran rampant through his mind, whispers twisting and writhing within his thoughts. Each whisper spoke tales of betrayal, tales of of being struck down from being, tales of the folly of holding even a fraction of trust for another and, accompanying each tale, was the strong, all consuming thought that roared within his mind, stirring the bestial instincts within Xavka, that he should strike down the Sith behind him before he could be struck down instead.

Drawing the sabre at his side with a simple movement, and no unnecessary flourish, Xavka would whirl around, robes fanning out behind him, as his knees dropped him into a crouching position. Before he had even moved, though, his senses had heard the sound of an ignited lightsaber behind him, the sound of feet pushing off of grit covered stone flooring and the scent of the rush of adrenaline that had surged through Ferox. As those sounds and smell reached him, a feral, bloodlust filled smirk would flutter across the scarred and tanned features of Darth Lykos as he bowed to the cries of his feral instincts, bowed to the baying of blood. Of course, said smirk was soon wiped from his face as he entered into the spin, meaning that as Ferox would bring his lightsaber down towards the crouching for of Lykos, his face was emotionless again.

As he had span, all information that he held of Ferox had ran through Lykos' mind, in particular, the few times he had bared witness to his fellow Zabrak's sword work. Strong, fierce and flowing blows that would serve to overwhelm the foe, the classic description of Djem So. Focusing on that specific thought, a few other factors would flash through his mind, a mind that was stronger than most would suspect when taking Lykos' form at face value. 'One sound of feet, no follow up - jump not a charge. With the additional downward momentum of the leap, a strong opening attack would be Falling Avalanche.' As the final two words would ring within his mind, the tip of the sabre would clear the sheath and Lykos would land in crouch.

Looking up at the falling form of Ferox, the green blade of the lightsaber coming down towards his head, Lykos would feel a surge of triumph at his correct deduction before acting. A barrier within for Force would form in front of Ferox with nary a thought, however, since it was formed with barely any focus it was by no means strong enough to hold him back, but it would be enough to grant Lykos the one second he needed to act. The world around him would slow as the Force would be drawn into his body during the time he had just gained for himsel, his mind sharpening even further and his body surpassing its normal limits. Pushing upwards at the last moment, Lykos would launch himself into the air, angling himself so that the downward strike would miss him and that he would land on one of the higher floors that were jutting out at varying levels from the walls of the interior of the Temple.

Before he landed, Lykos would reach out into the Force and Ferox would soon feel the sensation of a cool, wet blanket settling around him shoulders as his connection to the Force would begin to weaken. The Force Dampen was by no means calling upon Lykos' focus enough that it would be a distraction to him, but, as a result Ferox would be able to break the effects. Although, to do so, it would require a few moments thought, a few moments where Lykos could continue to act and prepare for even as he bowed to the baying for blood within his subconscious, that did not mean that he was sacrificing his mind.


[member="Darth Ferox"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

To Ferox, all he saw was Vulcanus casually knock his blade away. Hate bloomed deep in his heart, clear in the wild gaze formed in his eyes. What he felt as his connection was dampened wasn't a wet blanket, but an assault of fire. His skin felt like it was bubbling under intense heat, and it only caused another blood curdling roar to escape the Sith's throat. As he did, the Force swelled to remove the fire, and in a way removed the dampen. Anger, pain, and hate all fulled the warrior now.

Taken into his blood lust the Zabrak followed [member="Darth Lykos"] , or the burning figure that was Vulcanus to him, once more bringing that deadly blade around. He was fast, almost a blur, and he struck in a wild craze, swinging in anyway he could to strike the burning form of his most hated person. "I will kill you Vulcanus! I will skin you and serve your face to the Horde! They will serve ME! AND I WILL NEVER BOW TO YOU AGAIN!"

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

The slight amount of time it had taken Ferox to shattered the dampening of his connection to the Force before he had leaped up towards Lykos had been long enough for the current leader of the Sith Assassins to achieve his next aim. As the Dampen was broken, Lykos' Presence within the Force altered, shifting drastically. What had once been a tightly controlled Presence, visible within the Force, tainted with Darkness and leaking intent into the Force mere moments before he acted, changed to become a neutral mask. No more was he Light or Dark within the Force, no more was his intent being broadcasted just soon enough that someone focusing on Battle Precognition and with fast reflexes could react to his action as the constantly prepared mask formed through hours of Quey'tek Meditation was pulled into place instead of left in the outskirts.

As Ferox's feet left the ground and he began to travel towards the apex of his leap, Lykos' Presence, blank as it was, shrank between one moment and the next a few heart beats after the initial change, becoming nothing more than a neutral pinprick within the Force as the practices of Art of the Small were put to use and the world seemed to blossom into view around the Assassin. As Ferox descended towards Lykos, lightsaber coming down in another Falling Avalanche, the final step occurred, barely five seconds after the Quey'tek mask had been used. Lykos' Presence, small and neutral, shifted once more as it was buried beneath the natural waves and ebbs of the Force, changing in an instant to match the background feeling of the Force, becoming unnoticeable and fully hidden through a series of actions that had taken years of practice to be pulled off in such a small amount of time.

As the green blade of plasma struck down as his head, Ferox's leap now ending, Lykos' left arm would come up to meet it, deflecting it as the blade would run along the lightsaber resistant metal that was his cybernetic arm before being pushed off to the side in a parry. Stepping backwards, sinking deeper into a haze formed through a mix of Force Reflex and natural battle instincts, Lykos would begin a dance of twisting arms and stances as his blade, seeping viscous shadows as he channeled the Force through it, and prosthetic arm would meet and resist each strike delivered by the angered flurry of blows. Twisting and spinning, contorting his tall frame where need be, Lykos would seem to be pulling move of Ataru and Makashi as he span around the enraged form of Darth Ferox, enhanced body guided by Precognition and knowledge born from years and years fighting meeting enhanced blows and reflecting or parrying with minimal effort as Lykos began to draw both upon his deep well of stamina and the Force, the Darkness gathering around him in a maelstrom, one that was hidden behind the concealment he had established.

Feeling the trickles of Darkness building to levels that he needed, Lykos settled in to wait, temporarily ignoring the baying for blood within his mind, as he awaited the perfect moment to strike, practice with dealing with his blindspot leaving Lykos perfectly able to keep track of Ferox's movements. Finally, the moment to act came as Lykos would drop low, twisting around Ferox's ankles as his left arm would redirect a strike meant to cleave his from shoulder to waist - redirecting and not parrying to prevent Ferox from using the ideals of Fluid Riposte which was found within Djem So. Before he would raise from his crouch, the Force would scream in pain around Lykos as the Darkness he had been calling upon was utilised. A wound would be calved into the Force as it was twisted in an unnatural way, folding around the form of Darth Lykos. An instant later, Lykos was gone from where he had been, his body vanishing, as the wound began to slowly heal, frayed edges mending themselves.

Not even a second after he had vanished, the cloaked form of Darth Lykos would spill out of nothingness and into reality a few levels above Ferox, away from the edge so that he would not be able to see him. Acting quickly, the Force would be wrapped around Lykos as he would fade from view, the Cloak manipulating the light that bounced off of him, as well as any sound waves he may make, to render him unseen and unheard. Thus, Xavka personified his personal motto of Unseen, Unheard, Unnoticed as he was now hidden within the physical world and within the Forec, nothing more than a Shadow.

Offering a brief prayer to Amina and Vysh in thanks for letting rage blind Ferox and allowing him to act as he had, Lykos would creep forwards and lock his gaze upon Ferox three levels bellow where the green blade of his leghtsaber had just carved its way into the rock floor beneath his feat. A bloodthirsty smirk of anticipation grew across Lykos' unseen face as he gave into the cries of the part of his subconscious that was fully animalistic in nature. The blood of the traitor would be spilled today.


[member="Darth Ferox"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Blind to even the Force now the Zabrak continued to strike against [member="Darth Lykos"] even as the Force screamed in his ears to defend. Again and again he lashed out, trying to cleave down the burning figure of his old master. It was then that something odd happened in his vision. The large figure that was Vulcanus ducked under and around him, and a new burning sensation was felt upon his back.

As quick as it happened, with how uncharacteristic the attack was, and blood that was felt on his calf despite the signature usage of flame Vulcanus was known for all alerted him to how.. Wrong this all was. Was this the Dread Masters doing? Their traps sprung after all these centuries? Red eyes began to fade to blue as the blackness that had shrouded his gaze and caused him to focus on the image of his dead master did the same.

The wound on his back continued to sting, but it didn't seem deep. Certainly not enough to cripple him. Yet, as he looked around, he found himself alone. Lykos was missing. Was this another part of the Dread Master trial? A collected frown formed on the lips of the Zabrak as he brought his blade up, holding it in a single handed grasp. His eyes shut as he simply listened to the Force.

Who ever had cut his back was still here. Vulcanus was a trick, yes. But the blood seeping into his clothing was very real. Who, or what, was sure to come back.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

From where he sat, crouched on one of the higher levels, a small smirk would tug at his lips as he watched on, invisible, as Ferox first tried to look around for him, blood dripping slowly from the cut he had opened on his fellow Zabrak, before settling into a guarded and ready stance, eyes closed. If Lykos were to guess, Ferox would currently be listening to the whispers from the Force, trying to detect him, however, as Lykos knew from prior experience, with his specific usage of Quey'tek, that such actions would not be as advantageous as they normally would be for now that his intent was no longer being into the Force, any warning he may gain from precognition would be more of a generalised warning of danger than a specific attack.

Slipping his hands into his robes, Lykos removed two of his chakrams from where they hung at his waist, concealed and folded in half inside of a pouch. With a practiced flick of his wrists, the two halves snapped together so that the Assassin was now holding two disks in his hands. Taking a deep breath to focus his aim, Lykos whipped his arms forwards, throwing both disks to the side slight and letting the flick of his wrist add some spin to the deadly metal disks. Reaching out, he would connect his mind with the flight of the disks through telekinesis, guiding them to travel where he commanded them to do so.

The disks would cut through the air with ease, each one heading for a side wall before the courses would alter to fly directly at the still form of Ferox. One chakram would attack from in front and to the right of Ferox, cutting down towards his chest from above while the second would come in low from behind and to the left, raising up towards his head. The two different courses were chosen by Lykos so as to make it harder for them to be dodged, covering a simple leap into the air as well as moving back or forwards slightly due to their angles of approach.

Knowing that his position would be revealed as soon as the disks had left his hands, Lykos had leaped forwards, his actions still concealed, to land one level bellow (one above Ferox) and off to his right, meaning that he now was positioned just off to the left of Ferox, staring down at his with a serious, bloodthristy intent in his eye. The attack with the chakrams were simple, yes, easily blocked if not for the usage of telekinesis manipulating their flight through the air. But, then, that was some done of purpose, for Lykos was choosing to observe how Ferox would react to the attack and build on his plan of action from there.


[member="Darth Ferox"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Danger.

Ferox felt it before he heard it. The Force gave it's warnings, and as indirect as they were, it opened his senses. His speed, strength. Hearing, scent. Sight. There was a song in the air, coming from both sides. To him, time slowed. Once again War was in control, and with it he could finally act. Two directions, one above, one below, left and right. Just as they closed in he moved. His mechanical wrist popped open, revealing the hidden lightsaber within. Two quick strikes. One with the mechanical right, the other with his left still holding his sword.

It was a quick turn, his arms swinging to counter the blades direction in two quick cuts. In perfect unison he battered the blades away, and as soon as he did the hidden blade in his wrist retreated, leaving only the green glow of his sword. "I know not who you are. But you strike me with visions of a dead man and hide from sight. I will end you."

[member="Darth Lykos"]