an impasta
Apprentice tournaments. Try-outs; such a tired old way of doing things, in Khel's mind. Still, at least it was an easier way to see the capabilities of the apprentices without having to just toss them into the fray and hope they survived. That option was not always conducive to finding someone to personally teach, not in the early stages.
As a later trial, of course, it was entirely their fault if they failed and died.
The clone's head cocked off to one side, hearing voices a short distance away. Silently, a small remote drone floated over next to Marcis Sorr 's head, watching his interactions with those around him. Another rose, focused purely on the display going on below, supplementing Khel's senses through the Force. Honing in on the one who had just released the spell of darkness.
That acolyte was one of the most interesting of them down below, now, alongside the one who had earlier incanted her will into being; while Khel wasn't nearly as focused on sorcery as some others, he had more than a passing familiarity with it, owing to the inclinations of his own master. So he focused in, further, pinning down her particular scent in the Force.
"Don't gloat too long," he whispered, his words brushing up against Jonu Zihtil 's mind like a gentle caress. "Delays can mean death, after all." He paused, as the drone focused on the battlefield shifted, taking in the view of the other acolytes and the shadow growing around them, especially the one who had just lost their weapon.
"Strike when the opportunity presents."
As a later trial, of course, it was entirely their fault if they failed and died.
The clone's head cocked off to one side, hearing voices a short distance away. Silently, a small remote drone floated over next to Marcis Sorr 's head, watching his interactions with those around him. Another rose, focused purely on the display going on below, supplementing Khel's senses through the Force. Honing in on the one who had just released the spell of darkness.
That acolyte was one of the most interesting of them down below, now, alongside the one who had earlier incanted her will into being; while Khel wasn't nearly as focused on sorcery as some others, he had more than a passing familiarity with it, owing to the inclinations of his own master. So he focused in, further, pinning down her particular scent in the Force.
"Don't gloat too long," he whispered, his words brushing up against Jonu Zihtil 's mind like a gentle caress. "Delays can mean death, after all." He paused, as the drone focused on the battlefield shifted, taking in the view of the other acolytes and the shadow growing around them, especially the one who had just lost their weapon.
"Strike when the opportunity presents."