The Shepherd
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Jul 30, 2015 18:06:30 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Jul 30, 2015 18:06:30 GMT -8
He had known it was coming the moment he felt the monster fly by him in the Gungan submersible, narrowly avoiding him (as was likely the monster's intention). He had known it was happening as he crossed over the underwater cliff face, feeling each life end, one by one, slash by slash, scream by bloodcurdling scream. He pushed his body and his rebreather to their limits, pushing through the water as fast as the Force would allow, but he had known it would be too little, too late. By the time Rutil Iorek crossed the bubbly threshold into the undersea Gungan city, he had known what he would find there.
The monster was angry. Even if the lingering stench of the dark side and the psychic imprints of his slaughter were undetectable to the Jedi, his fury showed in his blade work. Limbs were hewn away at sloppy angles. There were slashes that would undoubtedly have not been fatal on the corpses of the city's inhabitants. The Sith had indeed had a head start, but he had not had the kind of time that would have allowed him to get so ham-handed with his lightsaber. He was angry. He was furious. Ordinarily that would have turned the coming battle in Rutil's favor, but a Sith knew how to harness their rage and turn it into something terrifying. That was one disadvantage that the Zabrak Jedi had. Another was that, from what he saw, the Sith was undoubtedly younger, and had a much deeper pool of physical energy to draw from; if the fight drew on long enough, that could prove fatal. But Rutil had faced opponents like that many times before.
He was still here. They weren't.
Walking through the corridors of the city, Rutil followed the stink of the Sith Lord, doing his best to ignore the trail of corpses. Of course, "trail" was a kind word; he doubted anybody was still alive down here, and he doubted anybody back in that village had fared any better. Rutil had been to the sites of massacres before. Some he arrived to days after the fact, where the bodies had been allowed to putrefy and swell. Some he had arrived to centuries later, usually as part of a pilgrimage. But this was different. The ghosts of the dead still lingered, their presence still lingering deep beneath the oceans of Naboo, their cries for help echoing in the mind of the old Jedi as he passed by each lost soul. Man, woman, and child alike had fallen to the monster's fury, each one deemed less important than some trinket the Gungans wouldn't know what to do with anyway. Rutil had no idea how many more had died down here, their city now acting as their tomb. But if his gut and the hairs on the back of his neck were any indicator, it was dozens. Scores. Maybe even hundreds.
He was still here. They weren't.
With each step, the foul stench grew stronger, and the corresponding air felt thicker. Through the transparent walls of the Gungan city he could see the Sith Lord, finally reaching some grand antechamber. Within, on a pedestal, Rutil could see the very prize the monster in there had killed so many to have. It was small. It was triangular. It was red. It was evil. And it had to be destroyed before he - or anybody like him - got their hands on it. Rounding a corner and shortly thereafter entering the antechamber himself, he stepped quietly, letting the Sith Lord bask in the artifact's darkness before letting the snap-hiss of his royal blue lightsaber announce his arrival.
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Darth Andor
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Jul 30, 2015 18:56:08 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Jul 30, 2015 18:56:08 GMT -8
His mind was alive with the screams of his victim's. Screams of pain, screams of horror, screams for mercy. At first, he appeared as nothing but a shadow to the Gungan's after arriving at their beloved underwater city. He stalked his victims, staying out of sight as he planned his course of action: to spin a web of lies and deceit around the stupid creatures: just like he had done with those weak-minded farmers.*
*That's where he had left the Zabrak: cornered on a rooftop and temporarily put out of commission. The Sith Lord knew that the villager's wouldn't stand a chance against the Jedi without his battle mediation, but they could buy him time to track down the holocron, the ancient artifact of the Sith. Every second mattered.*
*And now he was here. The holocron was here. Even now, Andor could see it on its pedestal through the transparent walls of the Gungan city. Seeing it displayed like a trophy angered the Sith... It outraged him. But fortunately, the Gungan's were to dimwitted to know the true value of their discovered treasure, and thus, had not turned it in to the Republic. Darth Andor stepped out from the shadows, making his first move. The nearby, lone Gungan spotted him and rushed over, his electropole held in a cautious guard. Immediately, Andor lashed out with the Darkside, spewing words and energies onto the Gungan, trying to twist his version of reality as he had the Mayor's wife back on the village island. But something wasn't right. Something was.... off.*
*The Gungan broke free of his trance and managed to sound the alarm a mere instance before Andor's crimson blade had erupted from its black hilt and stabbed into the Gungan's open mouth. With a upwards slash, the Gungan fell lifeless to the ground, his head still attached, but smoking and split in two. Gungans erupted from every direction, armed with spears, shields and boomas, Andor was overcome with fury at his failure. His body tensed and he leapt into the masses, his twin blades embodying the destruction of a hurricane.*
*Everything went black as Andor lost all track of space and time.*
*Finally, when his senses returned, the Dark Lord found himself in the antechamber, standing only a couple of feet away from object he had come to collect. His lightsabers were at his hips, deactivated. They were all dead: every male, every female, every child. He could recollect what had happened. All he heard was screams amongst the distance humming of his lightsabers. The overwhelming sense of grief, pain and death empowered the Sith.*
*His body shivered with excitement as his right hand extended. His pale, skeletal fingers clasped around the holorcon, and his mind was once more swarmed in darkness. This holocron was old, very old. "What holocron IS this?" He thought to himself. But before he could continue, before he could activate the ancient relic, his senses alerted him to a new, familiar presence.*
*The holocron was small enough to slip into his robes, but the triangular shape made it clunky and bothersome. His hand let go as he turned to face his opponent, his hands dropping to his lightsabers at his sides. Unclipping them from his waist, he brought them before him. The *snap-hiss* of his twin blades ringing out at the same time as the Zabrak's own blue blade came forth. His blades were held at each side, hip level with the blades pointed in front of him in a neutral stance, giving no indication to the form of combat Andor was about to engage in.
"That's twice you've failed now, Jedi. You couldn't save the villagers and you couldn't save the Gungans." His voice was a whisper, but still it echoed around the antechamber, cold as ice and as sharp as the finest steel."How does it feel knowing you're about to fail for a third time? Surely the Force has shown you." "It's shown me."
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The Shepherd
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Jul 30, 2015 19:20:31 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Jul 30, 2015 19:20:31 GMT -8
He stood there, leering at the Zabrak Jedi, taunting him. As the Sith spoke, Rutil drew the Force around him like a shield in complete silence, holding his ground and glaring at the Sith with contempt deeper even than Naboo's infinite ocean. The Force Shield technique was ancient and simple - one of the first defensive Force techniques a Jedi learned - and it was taught early on for a simple reason; it worked. Without it, anybody could be thrown around like a leaf caught in a storm. But while it was not the strongest protection, it would prevent the Sith from affecting him directly. If the monster with the two blood-colored blades wanted to throw him around with his mind, the bastard would have to earn it, and Rutil wasn't going to make it easy for him.
The Sith had gotten to the part about the Holocron showing him something as his speech began to slow. Fish outside the city bubble went from darting, to swimming, to slithering, and almost to a crawl as the Force sped up Rutil's body and mind. When he did move, the Sith would have - at most - half a second to respond before the Jedi Guardian's blue blade sliced him into something unrecognizable. The Force flowed and flourished in the old Zabrak, as it always had.
As did something else.
Rutil felt a new sensation. He wasn't able to pin it down, but he knew something was amiss. Opening with a flurry of attacks aided by Force Speed was his standard, and more often than not it ended fights before they truly began, but this was different. It wasn't the Sith's battle meditation; even if it had been, Rutil was ready for it this time. It wasn't the abundance of life that the sea offered, allowing Rutil to feel the glory of the Force all around him and further see the Sith's perversion of it. But whatever it was, he liked it. His body felt stronger. His mind felt sharper. His vision - and his target - felt clearer than ever before.
Capitalizing on the new sensaion, Rutil exploded into a sprint, bringing his blade low and swinging high as he reached the Sith Lord, aiming to bisect the monster from the legs up.
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Darth Andor
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Jul 31, 2015 14:30:30 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Jul 31, 2015 14:30:30 GMT -8
*He anticipated an attack the instant he felt the Jedi reaching out for the Force. Andor's own body was warm: just getting started, having been exposed to the Force during the target practice with the Gungans... Fighting Jedi younglings would have been more difficult than what he had just encountered. The Dark Lord's veins burned with the fiery energies of the darkside before the Jedi had even stepped forth. But now, Andor was more than ready.*
* He stood his ground as the Jedi nearly disappeared, becoming nothing but a blur as he sped directly at Andor, engaging combat by taking the offensive.*
*Predictable.*
* Force speed was commonly used by fighters, and during their brief encounter at the village, Andor noticed that it was Rutil's first move then... And his first move now. He matched the Jedi's speed with his own use of the Force, if not moving even faster. His two blades flickered as they immediately formed an "X" in front of him, blades pointing at the ground. The blue blade came up and crashed into the crook of Andor's own blades. The power behind Rutil's strike was impressive, even for an elder, but Andor used that power, that momentum, to his advantage.*
*He didn't seek to stop the Jedi's strike. As the blades clashed, Andor jumped into the air, using his opponent's blade as a makeshift launch pad, as a gymnast would use a horse. His body rotated into a front flip, blurred by the Sith's own use of Force Speed. He was above the Jedi, and then behind him, his feet landing softly on the ground in less than a second. He stood with his left foot ahead of his right, his chest blocked by his left shoulder. But no sooner had he landed, Andor was already striking out. His left crimson blade slashed from right to left at the Jedi's midsection, the power of the strike coming from two variables: the superhuman strength of his mechanical arm, and the twisting motion of his torso as his body went with his arm, using his own bodyweight to also power the swing. Andor's right blade stayed back, and out of the way, wary of a counter-attack.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 1, 2015 12:13:09 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 1, 2015 12:13:09 GMT -8
Rutil had a feeling of what was to come the moment he felt the resistance - or lack thereof - of the Sith Lord's blades on his own. The abomination did not go very high, favoring practicality over theatricality as he touched down not far behind the Zabrak and came in with a counterattack. Almost as soon as he landed, the Sith lashed out with his left arm, a long red blade of energy aiming to cut the older man in two. There were several ways of neutralizing that particular threat. But Rutil saw only one that would work remotely well.
Rather than engage the Sith, Rutil slid back, aided by the Force to carry him almost two meters backward, letting the Sith's attack cut through nothing but air. And when he came to a stop, Rutil forsook all form in favor of power, and sent a powerful Force Push in the Sith's direction.
For a moment, the Guardian had worried that he'd overextended himself; he could feel the raw power leaving his body as it shot from his body like a slug leaving a barrel. But almost as soon as it left, Rutil once again felt refreshed and ready, the energy that had left him building back up faster than he had ever felt it do so before. It confused the Jedi for a moment before he snapped himself back to his opponent; he wasn't about to look a gift kaadu in the mouth.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 1, 2015 17:09:01 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 1, 2015 17:09:01 GMT -8
Andor's blade slashed through nothing as the Jedi retreated, creating a two meter gap between himself and Andor. But everything moved forward, Andor's momentum carrying him to his left. His feet left the ground once more as he cartwheeled to his left, using his momentum to guide him, as was the way of the Fourth Form, Ataru. He felt a build-up, a MASSIVE absorption of energy gathering around the Jedi as Rutil prepped his attack.*
*The Jedi's backpedal halted as Andor's feet touched the ground again, this time positioning the Sith at the Jedi's two o'clock position. His blades deactivated as he thrust both hands forward, palms facing Rutil. In an explosion of energy, the two Force Pushs collided in mid air, causing the air around them to sizzle with energy. There was a brief second of nothing but tension, Andor's face contorted with focus, holding Rutil's own Force Push at bay, much like the brief conflict on Mustafa between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader.*
*With a grunt, Andor took a step forward, and the air between them exploded. The Sith Lord was hit by the overwhelming concussive wave and his feet rose off the ground as he was thrown backwards, his black cloak a flapping frenzy, threatening to entangle him. He soared backwards another three or four meters, making the distance from the Jedi a solid six meters at least (even more if Rutil was thrown backwards as well). He crashed onto the ground, taking the brunt of it with his left shoulder, rolling onto it at the last second. The air rushed out of his lungs as he let out a low gasp.*
*He wanted to just lay there, but of course, he couldn't. Fortunately, decades of combat and physical fitness had conditioned the Sith Lord for such minor impacts. Shaking his head vigorously to clear the stars that whirled around him, he jumped to his feet, lightsabers in hand, but unlit. Surely, Rutil would have been hit by the concussive explosion of the opposing forces as well, but as the Sith Lord rose, he was prepared for anything.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 3, 2015 16:07:48 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 3, 2015 16:07:48 GMT -8
He felt it coming before it happened. A blast of concussive air erupted between the Jedi and the Sith, the force of it sending the Sith flying backwards and onto his back. Rather than fight it, Rutil dropped to a knee and let the wave ride over him, rolling with the telekinetic explosion. It was far from fun, and the old Zabrak could feel the air forced out of his lungs as his body felt hundreds of fists impacting his body all at once. But rather than being sent across the antechamber, Rutil fell into a roll and was back on his feet in a heartbeat, the Guardian's blue blade having left a short glowing scrape in the floor to his right.
The Sith had not fared nearly so well. When Rutil's eyes locked onto his prey, the abomination had landed flat on his back towards the far side of the Gungan antechamber with a loud thud. Rutil's every instinct told him to rush in and finish him, and it took every fiber of his being and every second of his training to remind himself how bad an idea that was. Rutil was strong, skilled, focused, and had survived where countless more talented Jedi had died, and he had slain Sith vastly more powerful than himself. The reason he had managed to do so was because he followed one simple rule; he always assumed his opponent was stronger, more skilled, and more focused. He had seen firsthand how quickly the Sith could react. Trying to close that distance was suicide.
Rutil let out a breath that could have been mistaken for a feral growl as he collected himself. He knew better than to even think that way.
As the Sith leaped to his feet, however, Rutil was ready for him. Rather than reach out with his hand or his lightsaber, or make a mad dash into the red blades that lie in wait, Rutil once again stretched out with the Force. A quick, violent, and targeted burst upward would propel his enemy far further upward than he had intended, sending him into the air, into a fall, and - if there was any justice - into a place where Rutil could finish him once and for all.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 3, 2015 19:36:35 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 3, 2015 19:36:35 GMT -8
Another swell in the Force. He knew what was happening, but couldn't stop it, having already making the jump to get to his feet. Andor wanted to run his options in his head, to calculatethe pros and cons of each counter-attack or defense.*
*But there was no time to think. There was only time to act. Andor let his instincts kick in, letting his body naturally mold into the sequences of Ataru he had strictly practiced and mastered for decades in the training rooms. And being a master of the fourth, most agile form of lightsaber combat meant being a master of one's own momentum. Andor felt himself rising into the air, but then, when he anticipated to land on his feet, he kept rising. It seemed he was in the clasp of the Jedi's Force Grip.*
*Andor felt himself thrown into the air. Reaching out with the Force, he pushed himself even higher, his arms reaching above him. Higher and higher he rose, feeling his ascent slowing. He was almost there!*
*Just a bit farther.... Got it!*
*Wrapping his arms around the golden, metallic poles that were the rafters of the highly decorated antechamber. Hoisting himself up with ease and speed, due to the last remnants of his rising momentum before being taken over by gravity's downward pull, Andor's feet landed smoothly on the thin pole, which was only five or six inches wide. He balanced himself like a gymnast on a balance beam, his right foot in front of his left, but he never stopped moving. He had to stay a step ahead, to keep the Zabrak on his feet. The more he could keep this Jedi moving, the easier it would be to wear him out... Hell, it shouldn't be that hard, he had white hairs sprouting from his head!*
*Andor's right crimson blade slashed downwards in a flourish, followed immediately with the left. The two heated blades easily sliced through the metallic pole in front of him, severing a length about a foot long. In a follow up slash back in an upwards direction before the detached piece of metal could fall to the floor below, Andor severed the pole twice more: three separate pieces each about four inches long and about five inches wide.*
*Only a couple seconds total had elapsed since Andor had first grabbed hold of the rafters, but now, the fragments of the metal rafter began to fall. Speeding downwards with an ever increasing velocity. The Dark Lord thrust his hands forward, palms out and used yet another telekinetic application of the Force, gripping the three pieces of metal and hurling them at the Jedi at lethal speeds of a bullet. One was aimed for his center of mass, while the other two were slightly to his left and right.*
*The Dark Lord stood poised high above the Jedi and nearly seven meters away, as the three metal projectiles shot closer and closer to their target with each passing moment.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 3, 2015 20:25:41 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 3, 2015 20:25:41 GMT -8
While the Sith was busy slashing away at the elegant chandelier-like fixtures, Rutil was watching his every move, readying himself. As the monstrosity above him made his move, Rutil gathered the Force around himself, letting it permeate and replenish his body anew. It lit his nerves on fire and sharpened his senses. It tensed his muscles and it quickened his pulse. The Force had always been Rutil's ideal, and he had been a devoted servant to its will all his life. But things were different here. Now, it was his ally.
Now, it was his weapon.
When the makeshift flechette came at him, Rutil stood his ground. His training told him to get out of the way. His body told him to be ready for the pain, and to fight through it as he always had. But his will said something else altogether. And it was his will that won out; just short of his face, all three blades stopped cold in mid-air, hovering ever so briefly before falling to the floor with a small clatter.
Rutil had never been so brazen or showy as to outright intercept an attack of that nature, let alone do so as inefficiently as he had. But Rutil had held back before. He had held back on the surface, and forty-odd villagers had paid the price. The Jedi had held back when he had been a Padawan, and the whole Order had been annihilated. At the behest of the Praxeum staff he had eased his training regimen, and one of his pupils had almost been killed by a kriffing droid. But the Sith would not hold back. They would not be restrained by laws or morality. And if he - or the galaxy - was to ever stand a chance, then neither could he.
Not anymore.
"I had expected more from a Sith Lord," Rutil said, his voice carrying a chilling edge, "or are you just the true Sith's lapdog? It would explain a good deal."
As he spoke, he continued to let the Force build around him, reaching out with his senses to find an opportunity that would let him in.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 3, 2015 20:45:25 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 3, 2015 20:45:25 GMT -8
His attack fell short, the Jedi stopping the projectiles in mid air and letting them drop to the ground, followed with the ring of striking metal. The Sith Lord wasn't surprised, either. He was abnormally patient, slowly tiring out his prey before moving in for the kill-strike. Then, he heard the man's voice, spitting an insult in his direction, no doubt in an attempt to enrage the Sith into a drunken fury. Too bad the Jedi's attempt was in vein.*
"That's what they all say." The Sith Lord's voice too was as cold as ever, still a whisper, yet ringing in the Jedi's ears. "Yet here I am."
He stood poised on the edge of the severed rafter, his mind bristling as he felt his blood continue to burn with the influence of the Dark Side of the Force. His mind drew on his emotions, bringing back memories of pain, hate and anger to fuel his drive to eliminate the Jedi before him. He longed for blood. He longed for the thrill of battle. But Andor was not a mindless brute who charged forward and relied solely on brute strength to dispatch his enemies: unlike most Sith it seemed. He was far more patient, relying on shadows and trickery to take his prey. But now, he had been exposed, forced to fight head on.*
*But there was always a way to trick an opponent. And it was almost time to play his next card.
"Looks to me like you're slowing down a bit, old man." As he spoke, his words were infused with the darkside in an application of Dun Moch, hoping to bring the Jedi's emotions into play, and to use them against him.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 3, 2015 21:02:41 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 3, 2015 21:02:41 GMT -8
"Never heard that one before."
At first, Rutil had merely been bluffing when he said he had expected more. But for someone trying to rile up their opponent, goading them into a fatal mistake, the Sith had chosen the wrong opponent. Between the years, the experience, and the deep-seated contempt for all those like his enemy, Rutil simply didn't care. He knew he was old. He knew he was a Jedi. So what?
Rutil took slow steps backward, back towards the hallway that led into the antechamber, getting a better look at the abomination hanging in the rafters as he readied his next move.
"So, what am I going to etch on your tombstone?"
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Darth Andor
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Aug 3, 2015 21:23:32 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 3, 2015 21:23:32 GMT -8
"Leaving so soon?" Andor snickered as he jumped from the rafters, his black cloak billowing out around him as he dropped to the ground. Simultaneously, he reached out with the Force, yet again, feeling the exhilaration take hold as his power seared through his veins. The Sith reached out with his left hand and made a swift, sharp pulling motion, intending to pull the Jedi's feet out from under him by the ankles, sending him toppling to the ground.*
*Andor''s black boots landed silently on the ground and he began to stalk towards his opponent, his lightsabers held at his side, trailing behind him. The points of the crimson blades stuck into the floor, leaving a trail of orangish-yellow molten metal as he crept closer, quickly closing the distance to his target, who would hopefully be struggling to get back on his feet.*
*Meanwhile, the holocron still sat on its perch, still between the opponents but far off to Andor's right (Rutil's left) waiting to be taken from its cage.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 3, 2015 22:21:04 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 3, 2015 22:21:04 GMT -8
The protective field that Rutil had summoned with the Force had paid off. When the Sith tried to yank his feet out from under him, most of the attack was rebuffed and repelled, requiring only a quick shift in footing on the Jedi's part to nullify it completely. And as the Sith made his approach, Rutil remained standing, unmoved by the monster's presence and unfazed by the theatrical display. But despite his complete lack of fear, despite his ever-growing desire to take the Sith in his hands and break his body apart bone by bone, he continued to backpedal, slowly but surely eventually coming near the threshold.
Then, with the Force as his tool, he struck.
The Jedi took a flying leap backward, landing on the metal frame of the Gungan bubble door before capaulting himself in a front flip towards the Sith Lord, arcing down with his brilliant blue blade, angling to sear his throat and burn out his taunting voice forever.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 3, 2015 22:45:43 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 3, 2015 22:45:43 GMT -8
Andor stalked forward, quickening his pace as the Jedi continued to back away, keeping the distance even. "Scared, Jedi?." He chuckled just a moment before the Zabrak launched into the offensive, acrobatically leaping into the air and coming down onto of the Sith Lord, finally set on clashing blades. But their blades would not clash. Not yet.*
*The distance was still great enough between the two combatants for Andor to react easily to the Jedi's move. The Sith Lord stood his ground until the last possible second and finally as the Jedi's front flip reached its apex above him, Andor dove forward, his blades deactivating as he tucked his shoulder. He rolled beneath the Jedi as he soared past him overhead. He came back up onto his feet behind the Jedi, whirling around to face his backside. His blades were already reigniting as Andor stepped forward on his right leg, thrusting out with his right blade, aiming to pierce the Jedi in the middle of his back, keeping his left lightsaber held diagonally across his chest from his left hip to right shoulder in a defensive guard.*
*As always, acting like an unconscious behavior, Andor's mind was continuously open to the darkside, feeling its power keeping this body agile and rejuvenated. He gathered it, letting it pool in his being, preparing to unleash it in a massive wave.*
*Soon.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 4, 2015 14:08:16 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 4, 2015 14:08:16 GMT -8
There were very few rules of combat that were set in stone. Those that were - and that he taught as such - Rutil was growing closer to ignoring as each minute passed. But there was one that he would never allow himself or those in his charge to break; no matter who, no matter what, never turn your back on your enemy. He spun around the instant his feet hit the floor, his blue blade lancing out to catch the Sith's red one just in the nick of time. There was a brief pause in the action, just long enough for the Jedi to growl a response to the Sith's would-be taunt.
"Not of you."
Batting the Sith's blade away, the Jedi began to advance, letting loose with a flurry of Djem-So strikes to the Sith's body, trying to force him into the corridor. Rutil had seen the Sith fight, and all of his characteristics thus far had shown a preference for Ataru. If he could force him into the corridor he had been trying to back into, leaping and soaring about wouldn't be possible, and from there it was only a matter of time before Rutil was able to skewer the son of a bitch.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 4, 2015 15:50:15 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 4, 2015 15:50:15 GMT -8
Rutil twirled around to intercept Andor's thrust, his blue blade catching Andor's crimson one, holding it still as he spoke. Ouch. That one hurt.*
*Before Andor could snap back, the Jedi pressed forward, unleashing a series of strong, direct power strikes. For a Jedi, Andor sensed a lot of aggression, perhaps he could take that and turn it into anger. If the Jedi gave into his anger, it would be an easy cleanup for the Sith Lord. And Andor had a feeling he knew exactly how to release the Jedi's emotions from their cage. In fact, it was one of the Sith's specialities.*
*Andor's blade stayed put as Rutil tried to bat it away, effectively staying between them, preventing the Jedi from getting too close. He parried the first strike with his left blade, angling it so that the blade would slide off of it and fall away to his right (Rutil's left). Then, Andor's right blade came down onto of the blue blade, trapping it beneath and holding it steady. Now, Rutil's body was exposed. With a flick of his left wrist, the crimson blade came down onto of the Jedi's trapped arms, hoping to sever his arms at the elbow. As the lightsaber would slice through its target (if Rutil isn't able to defend), Andor would disengage his opponent's blade, and move to his left, placing himself to Rutil's right and out of the path of the corridor behind him.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 4, 2015 16:28:36 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 4, 2015 16:28:36 GMT -8
Rutil couldn't help but admire the Sith's skill with two blades. It was an inherently difficult form to use and even more difficult to master, but for all his abhorrence the Sith had managed to do something right with his life, and it showed. Rutil's blade was caught.
Rutil's arms, however, were not.
As the red blade came down, Rutil darted out of its way, forgoing his weapon to trap the arm of his enemy. Seizing the arm at the wrist and elbow, the Zabrak had been mere moments away from snapping the monster's arm clean in two when his hands registered metal instead of flesh. Rather than shatter his hand trying to shatter the Sith's arm, Rutil held it and pulled himself further away from the Sith's control zone, sending a powerful kick to his enemy's lower back.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 4, 2015 17:59:03 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 4, 2015 17:59:03 GMT -8
The Jedi thought he had the Sith's mechanical arm trapped, but unfortunately for him, he didn't. This Jedi's physical strength was just slightly under-par compared to the mechanical function of Andor's prosthetic. As the Jedi moved, Andor went with him, taking the brunt of Rutil's kick in his gut, since the Jedi was unable to get behind him. It knocked the wind out of the Sith and made his head begin to swim every so slightly. But it would take more than a hit to the gut to stop the Dark Lord.*
* Andor twisted his arm, pulling it back until it latched onto the side of the Jedi's right wrist, the one holding the lightsaber hilt. The Sith Lord intended to shatter the Jedi's wrist, but as he clenched down, something else happened in favor of the Sith. The slight jolt of Andor's grab on Rutil's wrist incidentally activated his Neuro Shock Hand, sending a Neuro-Shock towards the Zabrak's torso. As the shockwave unleashed, Andor's hand flexed as his grip began to tighten on the Jedi's wrist to a devastating degree.
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The Shepherd
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Aug 7, 2015 21:47:14 GMT -8
Post by The Shepherd on Aug 7, 2015 21:47:14 GMT -8
It felt like nothing Rutil had ever experience before. All at once, his every muscle seized up, denying him the ability to move as an indescribable pain shot through his body. Every nerve went alight at once, lighting up his body like millions of tiny infernos. The Sith's grip on the old man's wrist didn't even register as the rest of his body screamed for a mercy that wouldn't come. The sudden and total contraction of his muscles forced the air out of Rutil's lungs as well, forcing the usually stoic and terse Zabrak to do something he hadn't done in a long time.
He screamed.
The energy that had been building within him, however, wasn't let out. It went into overdrive, building and boiling, fueled by the Zabrak's pain and ignited by his shock and anger. It continued to grow until, much like the electricity coursing through his body, it threatened to tear him apart, fiber by fiber. But in doing so, it slowly pulled Rutil back. His vision slowly came to, and his eyes found the Sith Lord once again. His hearing returned, allowing him to hear the sound of his own weak, pitiful cries. His sensation moved beyond just pain, extending to feel the individual motors in the Sith's artificial hand, so he could know which ones to crush under the hell of his boot. And his sense of smell was given back to him, catching the foul stench of the monster's breath, which he would soon stop. Permanently.
Now.
His yell of pain turned into a roar of fury as the Jedi let go of any pretense and any restriction, letting the unbridled energy within him explode outward in a Force Repulse the likes of which Rutil had never unleashed before.
It wasn't about winning the fight against the Sith anymore. But Rutil was damn sure going to take the Sith with him.
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Darth Andor
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Aug 8, 2015 10:21:42 GMT -8
Post by Darth Andor on Aug 8, 2015 10:21:42 GMT -8
The Jedi screamed, his voice a sweet song of pain and misery, playing in the Sith Lord's ear. The Jedi screamed, his pain lighting up as a conduit of power, sickly teasing the Sith Lord's senses. And like leech, the Sith Lord grabbed onto it, usurping the Jedi's pain as it emanated from his being like the stench off a Tauntaun. Andor's grip tightened, his strength, his awareness, his power boosted to a whole new level.*
*He clenched down with his hand, as he leaned his head in, getting in Rutil's face. His mouth opened to reveal two rows of almost-too-clean, white teeth sharpened to a point. Fangs. He took a deep breath and his voice erupted in his own scream. The vibrations in the air thrummed against the Sith's eardrums as his scream of pleasure clashed against the Jedi's scream of pain, like oil mixing with water. The whole sensation was euphoric for the Dark Lord, every second of the Jedi's pain giving him the ultimate power boost.*
*Then the Jedi's scream turned a roar, pain turning into fury. It was a warning, telling Andor the Jedi was about to unleash something.... something BIG. Andor felt his opponent's rage, letting it boil his blood, excite his heart, and entice his mind. Using those emotions, and the accumulating power that came with it, Andor wrapped himself in a cocoon of the Force. The protection bubble molded around his body emitting an eerie crimson hue just an instant before Andor felt a concussive impact.*
*Even with the shield, the Dark Lord felt like he'd been hit by a truck.*
*The Force Repulse, upon impact, shattered the Projection Bubble, red fragments of darkside energy flying through the air in all directions like a chaotic fireworks display. His grip on the Jedi's wrist tightened even more, a result of the Dark Lord's breath being abusively stolen from his lungs and a instinctual contraction to try and hold himself steady. Then, the Dark Lord felt his feet leave the ground, his opponent's wrist still in his grasp. Andor's body was sent flying backwards, and with the excessive pull on the Jedi's arm, there would be enough force to shatter his opponent's wrist, maybe even his shoulder. Hell, the force of the Repulse was so great, it was even possible the Jedi's arm would be ripped clean from its socket.*
*Despite the outcome, Andor tried to control the flight of his body, but there was just too much momentum. He flew across the room until finally, his back collided with the podium that held the holocron. His head snapped back, the back of his skull impacting hard on the firm stand and immediately his head was enveloped in a deep fog; a concussion. The podium crashed to the floor, sending the holocron flying away from both combatants.*
*The Dark Lord lay on his back, stunned. With each breath there was a sharp pain his ribs, a number of them cracked or shattered. Had it not been for the Protection Bubble, Andor would have easily been knocked unconscious, if not killed from the Jedi's relentless attack. The Sith Lord tried to remember what was going on, tried to get himself to move, but the fog that poisoned his mind was too thick. But the pain.. why did his torso hurt? Why did his head hurt? Why did he feel like he'd been hit by a truck?*
*And then, the Dark Lord remembered.
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